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atopvisenyashill · 5 months

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i was thinking more about characters Performing Gender, but not necessarily Transgressing Gender. I wound up focusing on Ned and Sansa bc I feel like I understand them the most but-

Sansa as a hostage is imo the most obvious (bc it’s so well done) moment of someone clearly Performing Gender but not being transgressive in that performance. Which isn’t to say it’s not a complicated performance; it’s a fine line Sansa walks between weaponizing her gender to protect herself without seeming too fake. She’s trying to placate the Lannisters by playing the perfect, dedicated, air headed betrothed because it’s the only defense she has - if she outwardly rebels, she will be punished in a likely violent and/or sexual way (which isn’t even conjecture - when she says “or maybe he’ll give me yours” Joffrey has her struck with an armored hand). She’s not quite successful in being convincing but that’s because it’s a rather extreme situation; despite no one believing her, she does make herself seem meek and stupid enough that no one suspects she’s plotting to escape with Dontos until she’s well away from KL. The fact that she even has Dontos to confide in is because of Sansa’s relationship with gender! When she saves him, she covers her rebellious slip by playing up Joffrey’s intelligence & his role as King; she reaches for “tools” of her gender AND of ~proper manhood~ to save a life and herself from another beating. Her retreats into the godswood and silence are very much Sansa attempting to recharge from these draining interactions, the same way a knight would need to stop and eat and rest after a fight. She is fighting, constantly, by forcing herself to stay within the narrow confines of a specific type of gender performance as a way of shielding herself from harm.

Ned yelling at Cat is another big one, and I’ve seen the scene referred to as Ned using his patriarchal power to scare Cat, which is a great description. It feels like a Performance because Ned is putting on this terrifying Lord Stark mask in an attempt to get Catelyn to stop asking about Jon (and Lyanna). This is not how he usually acts with those he loves! When Ned is with His People, he is welcoming of questions, curiosity, emotion, even transgressive thought (to a point! the idea that Ned is a feminist because he lets Arya learn to fight is Not accurate but you can’t deny he allows significantly more flexibility wrt gender expression than most of the fathers we meet in this series. the bar is in hell tho). Yet when Cat asks him about Jon’s mother, Ned scares her so well she stops asking & still remembers the moment bitterly over a decade later. And if that snippet we see through Bran’s eyes of Ned praying that Cat will forgive him does come after she asks (like it’s suspected), it’s clear not only that this is a performance he’s putting on & weaponizing against Cat, it’s one he does not like using as a weapon against someone he is close to. After using the power his gender gives him to cause harm, he retreats to the godswood and silence to pray and rest, much like Sansa. A spiritual cleanse, the way a soldier may pray after battle, to reset and reconnect Being A Proper Man to Being A Kind Man.

I think there’s something interesting in that two of the characters most widely defined by how well they adhere to Westerosi gender norms both dislike feeling like they had to weaponize their gender. They are exhausted by the performance, because it’s a performance. This isn’t Sansa getting excited over tourneys, or Ned teaching his sons to fight; it’s toxic masculinity, it’s structural misogyny. It’s something they’re good at, excel at, and connected to something they enjoy but when it’s paired with violence, whether done by Ned or done to Sansa, it crosses over in their minds from an innate part of themselves (The Gender) to a performance necessary due to survival (The Gender Role). And that after these performances, both retreat to nature & god as a way of resting and cleansing from the experience.

#valyrianscrolls #ned stark #sansa stark #getting on my soap box #there’s something here too about romanticism. like shelley and coleridge and whitman. the need to return to nature to undo society’s harm.#especially with the way various romance movements and romantic tropes are played with by their characters.#i can’t even remember who said it which just shows u how shitty an english major i am aksjd but about how.#like society is necessary but just as necessary is the ability to escape into nature. i *think* it was coleridge i’m probably wrong.#the gender war makes corpses of us all #gender politics in asoiaf #obviously you can point to several moments for both of them. sansa calling petyr father. ned’s relationship with theon. wherein they both #are clearly performing something for an audience.#there’s like 12 other branches of this in my head. jaime’s romanticism. being knighted bloody & the sacrilegious nature of the sept sex.#and his inability to escape his gender performance the way ned & sansa do. ned being willing to cry in front of others but robb only ever #crying in the dark with his baby brother after he loses ned. cat’s tower stuff & finding solace in sewing.#i’m gonna try to write up something about loras & renly here too. tomorrow.#also i wrote this at the train station after work so if there’s errors or it makes no sense just pretend u never saw it skskdj

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solarisfortuneia · 8 months

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here's a silly something that was going to be a thing of its own but i thought it was much better as a blurb <3

“kaeya,” you call, running your fingers over a midnight blue t-shirt with a cat and the word ‘meowlicious’ embroidered on it in silver. “come take a look at this!”

hearing no response, you turn, only to find kaeya’s hoodie-clad figure next to the hat section, where a wide variety of them sit on display. the trolley sits to the side, abandoned in favor of a ridiculously colored hat that now sits on his head.

“what?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye. “you don’t think i look handsome like this?” he poses like a model on the runway. with his midnight-colored hoodie, white sneakers, silver earrings, eyepatch and rainbow beach hat, he makes for a comedic sight.

the price tag dangles over his eyes, the cherry atop this absurd cake. a smile spreads across your face and laughter bubbles up in your chest.

“you look very handsome,” you tease. “i’d definitely pay—” you reach for the tag and flip it over. “five ninety nine for you.”

“is that all i’m worth?” one hand flies to the center of his chest in feigned astonishment. he catches your wrist with the other when you begin to move away. “i was under the impression that i’m worth far more than a meagre five ninety nine.”

“oh, you are.” you flick his forehead playfully. “but the standard rule of department stores is that i pay what’s on the tag.” you stick your tongue out at him, intertwining your fingers with his.

“touché. it looks like you’ve struck a bargain. take me home, then, my love.”

“we’ve got to pay for our stuff first, my love.”

#—💡#that's the blurb tag i've only used it once before jdshjsd #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #kaeya x you #le gasp mika posted something?#SDKJSKDJH SORRY GUYS I'VE BEEN WRITING BUT IT'S NOTHING POST-WORTHY #i'll salvage something soon (is that a lie? who knows not me)#and i have two events so i'm working on those too!!#AND YES I REMEMBER THE EVENT REQS I GOT LONG AGO I'LL WRITE THEM EVENTUALLY JSDHJH #anyway that's all for now bye ily #life do be life-ing

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kenobihater · 2 months

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of all the star wars movies, which of them do y'all 1) enjoy the most 2) consider the best quality and 3) think you've rewatched the most. add your answers in the reblogs or replies, i'm genuinely curious how much of an overlap there is within everyone's three answers. mine don't overlap at all! they're revenge of the sith, empire strikes back, and the force awakens :^)

#len speaks #star wars #revenge of the sith #empire strikes back #the force awakens #not tagging more films than that bc i cant b bothered. incoming tag ramble ahead bc i have sw brainrot rn and im making it everyones prob❤️#i rlly struggled 2 remember if id watched tfa or aotc more. i went w/ tfa bc it was formative to me as a teen and ive seen it probably 6ish #times? whereas aotc was the first sw movie i remember (specifically the scene of obiwan serving c*nt in the bar lmao) but i've only seen it #for sure 4.5 and maybe 5.5 times. the .5 is from when i got bored after obi-wan's scene ended and ran off to go play in the mud or smthn 😭#i'm sure tfa will eventually get surpassed in number of rewatches by aotc and rots bc i don't fw the direction of the ST but that's my #current ballpark estimate of my total number of rewatches #as an adult tho if i just wanna watch a star war i'll go with aotc bc it's fun and ends semihappily and i can turn my brain off for the #spinny lightsabers. it's great background noise or for if you're sick or whatever. rots on the other hand? i won't talk through that unless #i'm quoting it with my brother and i am LOCKED IN 100% entirely entranced by it all #i almost picked rogue one for the best quality answer but i think the character writing is weaker and the facial cgi is creepy. esb beats #it by a hair imho bc of that. the vader hallway scene goes hard tho!!!#also i'm not covering shows or games or books or anything else in this post - simply the films. might ask abt shows later but that might #also give me hives bc so many of the shows suck ass and i don't rlly want ppl extolling the virtues of t.bb in my notes 💀#and yes i do think one's enjoyment and one's opinion of quality are two things that often overlap. but sometimes you just like something #bad and that's awesome. like rots is the best of the prequels by a large margin and i adore the opening and characters and many of the #scenes but that doesn't mean it's the best star wars has to offer ykwim? it's my specialest most favoritest sw movie but that doesn't blind #me to the dialogue lmfaooo

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whoopssteddiefeels · 1 year

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Penny in the Air

Robin is a lot of things: judgey, hyperactive, anxious, impulsive, talkative, loud- there’s a list okay, and she’s very familiar with it. High up the list is that she is very, very gay (if possible, she’s pretty sure she’s actually getting gayer. She blames Steve for this, as she’s pretty sure it has to do with being able to finally talk about her crushes to someone other than her reflection.)

The point is, she’s gay, so she’s not surprised that she notices first. The Steve-Eddie thing. Because it is, in fact, a thing at this point.

She knows Eddie is gay- knows it like the sky is blue and David Bowie rocks- because of, y’know, the way he is (if she had any doubt, the way he leaned in while calling Steve “big boy”, ew, killed it dead.) Her research suggests this is “gaydar,” but its very unfair, she thinks, that so far it has only detected exactly (2) gays, both men, making it pretty much useless. It has given her exactly 0 information on Vickie.

She empathizes with Eddie’s position. Feels it pang under her sternum when his eyes go soft watching Steve talk emphatically, hair flopping around in that ridiculous way it does. Knows how it must catch in his throat when his hand suddenly retracts halfway to Steve’s shoulder, going to his own hair to cover the aborted movement. Tries hard to not over-identify with the sharp tug he gives there, trying to snap himself out of it (fails because she did literally exactly that when Vickie was in the video store the previous day, almost as if he had seen and copied the mechanism).

The part of the puzzle she can’t figure out is Steve. She’s annoyingly aware that he likes (groan) boobies, thanks Fast Times, and he isn’t treating Eddie like a girl whose number he’s trying to score. That being said, whenever the older boy appears, Steve lights up like a damn Christmas tree. Affection doesn’t have to be romantic; she knows this- wants to hit several of the kiddos over the head with it whenever they allude to her dating Steve- but empathy for Eddie is tinting her judgement, and once you put on the gay rose-tinted glasses it’s hard to unsee the possibility. It certainly seems like flirting. Rearranging his hair every three seconds, drawing Eddie’s eyes to the mane that is his pride and joy. Getting what she can only describe as unnecessarily close when he squeezes by Eddie in the video store aisles or whoever’s living room they’re sprawled in, hands brushing a shoulder, back, or one time his hip under the pretense of maintaining balance. The soft blush whenever Eddie flirts hard in a way he knows can be passed off as a joke. The honest megawatt smile Steve gets whenever Eddie starts in on his usual antics is infinitely more endearing than the smolder he’s learned to use like a weapon.

She usually knows exactly what Steve is thinking or feeling before he does. They’ve got that whole platonic soul mate telepathy thing, and he’s easily the center of her social world. So, since she can’t tell what he’s thinking (other than the obvious but unhelpful “Eddie, yay!”), she’s 99.9% sure, from experience, ok, that it means he isn’t thinking. Like at all. So, what she’s witnessing is instinctive, his body just moving into Eddie’s space because it feels correct, and he hasn’t paused to think about it.

He’s walking that line of comfortable and affectionate that is ambiguously intimate. Could be platonic, could be more. It would be frustrating for anyone with a crush, but she knows from bitter experience with straight-girl crushes that Eddie must be going insane. And yes, Robin and Eddie are friends, but not close enough for her to open a conversation with “So you’re obviously gay and into Steve, my best friend who I talk to every second of every day, and no he hasn’t mentioned it, and neither have I. What’s up with that?” Similarly, she can’t quite figure out how to bring it up to Steve without accidentally outing Eddie in the process.

That’s the main reason she’s keeping her mouth uncharacteristically shut on the subject. She is not, however, above the occasional raised eyebrow, ok, especially as Eddie’s flirting slowly becomes ridiculously obvious. The man is literally leaning on the counter, chin on his hand, mooning up at Steve through his eyelashes. Steve has his hip propped on the opposite side, leaning into the shared space. How are either of them this oblivious, seriously.

~*~

She’s there when the penny finally drops.

They’re not even watching a romantic movie, it’s fucking Life of Brian, all three of them calling out their favorite lines along with the actors, throwing things and generally goofing off. If she takes the armchair to force the boys together on the couch, she doesn’t think anyone can blame her. If she’s feeling a little smug that they both sit in the middle, right next to each other, instead of taking opposite ends, she keeps it to herself. She might not want to stick her foot right in the middle of that mess, but she’s not above setting booby traps.

Robin couldn’t tell you exactly when Steve’s arm went around Eddie’s shoulder; it was somewhere between Eddie practically climbing into Steve’s lap for a “Biggus Dickus” re-enactment, the closeness and flirting safely enveloped in humor, and Steve attempting to force Eddie to “haggle” for the bag of chips. When she glances over from the safety of her armchair, Steve’s arm is trapped behind Eddie’s head, draped over his shoulder on the opposite side. Eddie, usually a constant ball of fidgety motion, is frozen stiff like he’s trying not to scare off a nervous rabbit. Even in the blue light coming off the screen she can see the flush coloring his usually nocturnal-pale cheeks.

The thing is, Steve had just discussed this move with her. Told her to invite Vickie to movie night, recommended light, easily joked off roughhousing and settling an arm around her in a way specifically gaged to judge the reaction. Which means he knows. No way he hasn’t finally figured out what his lizard brain has clearly been screaming for months (seriously, she deserves a medal. Someone tell her future girlfriends about her stamina), not with the way he’s twirling a soft brown curl around and around his finger. He must know Eddie can feel that. And oh. Steve is not-so-subtly glancing to his right, trying to gage that reaction like they discussed, to see if this is ok.

Yup. Robin needs to be literally anywhere else. She tries to be subtle (insert laugh here), muttering “bathroom” and legging it out of the room, seeking the safety of the kitchen. She wasn’t worried though- odds are she could start playing trumpet and those two wouldn’t hear it past the tension of the moment.

~*~

In addition to gay, Robin is also easily bored. She hums along to “Always look on the bright side of life,” drifting in from the living room, crunching on some peppery crackers she found in a cabinet in a way that vaguely matches the song’s rhythm. She would just leave the boys to whatever they were going to do (yuck, don’t think about it), but unfortunately the two people most likely to give her a ride home were occupied (seriously, no thinking about it). She’d held out for as long as she could, really, but if the movie was ending, surely she had given them enough time?

Hoping she wasn’t going to regret it, she peaked out of the kitchen, and was relieved to see that 1) everyone still had clothes on and 2) Steve and Eddie were cuddling. Fucking finally.

“SO, BOYS,” she boomed (remember loud is on the list of things she is), trying not to enjoy the way two ridiculous heads of hair jumped and then shifted away from one another anxiously. “Who finally lost the longest game of gay chicken I’ve ever seen?”

Steve’s head makes an audible thump as it drops against the back of the couch, hands coming up to rub at his face as she rounds the furniture to face them, feeling deliciously smug. Eddie gave up any pretense and buried his face in Steve’s shoulder, sweater and hair completely hiding his face.

“Shut up Robin, go away,” Steve groans.

“Nope! This has been the slowest burn of all time, you guys were killing me. I have to balance it out by being just as insufferable.” she chirped, doing her best Steve impression, hands on her hips and eyebrow quirked.

“Technically, I would say we both won gay chicken since neither of us pulled back. No chickens here. Roosters only, in fact.” Eddie surfaces with a smug little smile, dimples on full display.

“Oh you’re definitely a cock Munson, I’ll give you that,”

“Don’t make me flip you the bird-”

“That’s a bit of ostritch-”

“Well toucan play at that game-”

“I’m so happy I like tits-“

“Why me?” Steve grumbled at the same time Eddie dropped his teasing tone to ask, “Wait what?”

“Me? Lesbian. You? Obviously gay. Steve has been flirting back at you for months you dingus.”

“I’ve been what?” Steve sits up straight, suddenly laser focused on Robin. “I have not. I only realized, like, a week ago-”

He was seriously going to be the death of her.

“Steve. Stephen. My guy. What would you say if I told you a girl had been giving me a hair show, the unnecessary squeeze-by, and big eyes? Consistently. For weeks.”

Eddie starts laughing. Then cackling. Steve went an even deeper shade of red, though she could tell this one was more indignant ruby than embarrassed scarlet.

“Thank you,” Eddie wheezed out, fighting down another fit, picking himself up from where he had slid down the couch. “Oh my god, thank you for fucking noticing that. He was wasn’t he? I thought it was just in my head, y’know, and Gareth always said I tend to imagine signs that aren’t there.”

“Oh I know, you think you have a hard time, girls are so physically affectionate platonically, it’s impossible to tell-”

“Ok. Done with this conversation!” Steve interrupted, standing up between the two of them, hands furiously combing through his hair.

Robin only grinned wider at Eddie. “So, Munson, care to give me a ride home?”

“You know, Buckley, I would be delighted.”

“Hey now-” Steve tried to interject as the two of them moved towards the door.

“Why thank you, kind sir.”

“Don’t mention it, fair lady. Your chariot awaits.”

“Wait, hang on, Eddie-” Steve’s tone shifted from confused to plaintive as she stepped out into the night. And she resolutely pretended to not hear Eddie’s reply before he closed the door behind them.

“Sit tight, big boy, I’ll be right back!”

#steddie #steddie fluff #Robin Buckley #Robin POV #steve harrington/ eddie munsion #fic #ficlet #sometimes i write things #fluff #Am I the only one who remember Life of Brian? Biggus Dickus was iconic #I too am a tired lesbian #platonic stobin #gratuitous bird puns #i just think my writing style sounds like Robin so I wanted to try something #letterkenny reference if you squint real hard

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front-facing-pokemon · 4 months

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#something is very obviously different about these two compared to my normal images on this blog. i acknowledge this #also the sv model is Really good. and since they always stare straight at the camera anyway… and no one pays attention to the background…#and the only high-quality phantump model i could find was so horribly shiny that its eyes were just white voids #in my defense‚ phantump always just stare straight at you in game #the lighting is different‚ yeah. that's probably the dead giveaway. beyond the background. but like. i'm the only being on the planet who #really likes phantump anyway. i feel like it's a generally forgettable pokémon to most folks #phantump #HELLO this one is a weird one. i have some explaining to do. so when i did this one i didn't know how to edit models really at all #and when i got the models for these‚ the xy models were super shiny. shiny to the point that it made their eyes fuckin invisible #and i decided that since you could barely tell it was phantump‚ i needed a different way to get these images #i remembered that in the SV dlc‚ every time you find a wild phantump‚ it just fucking. stares. at you. and i was like. aha #i kinda remembered because of the test stream that i did. tumblr user alligayytorr (am i getting the right amount of Ys) said #“haha i am getting a sneak peek” when i zoomed the camera in on a phantump. and i remembered that. and i was like. i can utilize this #and ended up using just an in-game screenshot of SV in replacement of the regular content. later on‚ after that #once we got into gen 7 and it became less and less reliable to find models‚ i had to learn how to edit them manually to remove the shine #i am a software dev. not a 3d modeler. this ended up coming down to editing the code of the models directly (which i ended up writing a #script to automate). now‚ today‚ january 22nd (the day of me writing these tags and updating this post)‚ i remembered this post was in the #queue and was not normal. so i went back‚ ran the script on the phantump and trevenant models‚ and unshinified them #then edited these two posts to be normal. i have left the original pictures i took under the cut for reference and as bonuses #because i really enjoy phantump. so that's why those images are there‚ and that's why these tags are here #just for posterity's sake‚ the folks who come here mostly for my commentary‚ i've left the ORIGINAL tags of the post when i initially #made it with the SV pictures up at the top (i wanted to rearrange them‚ but tumblr makes that Very difficult‚ so i left them as-is)#so if these tags are confusing to read i Apologize. but i hope now that you're at the bottom you understand what happened #i'm gonna go edit the trevenant post now

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deservedgrace · 4 months

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i appreciate the curiosity and desire to understand when people ask me what growing up religious/in a cult was like, how religion and religious trauma impacts me, why i'm so against christianity, but i kind of dread those questions now because it's so... impossible to explain it properly. i don't know how to explain to people that don't have that experience that it's everything and it's a million little things.

#like. there's a reason my therapist didn't really get the religious trauma until we had been working on it every week for at least a year #i keep trying to write this post and explaining it but i keep dissociating and like #that's part of it too #there are a lot of things i don't remember that only come to me when i'm triggered/having a flashback #there are a lot of things that are normalized so even when i realize they're traumatizing #other people don't #there are a lot of things that don't sound very upsetting and only make sense in the context of larger things #there are some things you can't understand the weight of unless you've been in it #there are some thing you just straight up forget until something reminds you of it #there are just... so many bits and pieces that make up what makes it traumatic #and xtianity is so fucking normalized that nobody blinks an eye about it #if i never have to explain my religious trauma to a MHP again it will be too soon #religious trauma #ex christian #ex cult

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kingkatsuki · 21 days

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One of my absolute favorite “cliche” tropes is amnesia fics where reader has been dating character for years, but they forget and then they can only remember dating their ex. So it’s like they go back to the ex because it’s all they’ve ever known, and their current love has to cope with seeing the love of their life in the arms of another guy.

I could read that trope a million times over and never get bored or think it’s too repetitive.

#bonus points with him trying to help you remember but not wanting to like scare you or freak you out???#and even better for like Sanemi when there’s no phones or cameras to show text messages???#or photographs #and he REGRETS not writing you letters so badly then sigh #or like Bakugou not giving up but like caring about your welfare so much that he just kinda watches you with your ex?#cause he’s seen you in the hospital for weeks/months and knows how shit it’s been for you? how sad and lonely you’ve been #and he missed seeing you happy— even if this time it’s at the hands of another man #but he subtly leaves you gifts like your favourite flowers???#like maybe it sparks something inside you? because you tell everyone your favourite flowers are roses #but you find fresh tulips on your bedside table each morning after he visits? and it like grabs at something at the back of your mind???#or he brings you coffee and he’s somehow the only one that gets it right??? but it’s something you’d never order?#like you ask for oat milk but he brings it with coconut milk and it just tastes better? and you’re like I didn’t even know I liked this???#and your ex is just like ‘she likes oat milk’ like MATE NO WE DO NOT #I WILL EAT THIS UP WITH A SPOON AND WOLF IT DOWN YOU HAVE NO IDEA

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bonefall · 7 months

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oo snowkit becomes snowcarve?

He does!

In StarClan, you can use the names and appearance that you could have had, if you died young. It's very rare that you get permakits or permapprentices. I lifted from the COTC story about Smallstar and his siblings.

(Though, in BB those kits actually survive and it's MAPLESHADE’S kits who lead to the law on protecting children, Darkstar's Commandment, the Queen’s Rights. Smallstar is the leader of WindClan and xey're super chill. Xey own a lovely shawl.)

So Snowkit chooses to appear as Snowcarve, an Honor Title he would have earned for the creation of a full written Clan cat language, expanded from the simple glyphs. I'm not sure if he's a popular patron, but I do know that Bramble and Tawny invoke him sometimes.

Unfortunately though he's more invoked for general guidance by the two of them, not for possibilities like I think he'd like. He watches over them though, like a guardian angel. A lot of cats secretly have those.

I'm not sure who he follows around more often though. I think he LIKES following Tawny more because she's a better listener to his omens. But he feels like Bramble NEEDS him more, y'know?

Also notably, Snowcarve was technically their uncle, but the relationship is best described as "1st cousin." Rabnir in Clanmew, a familial role about somewhat distant but parallel growth, seen also with Brightpaw and Swiftpaw.

#Snowcarve has a lot of opinions on the Clan and its actions #I think he really strongly dislikes how they tried to 'honor' him with Whitewing #She's deaf and serious but he doesn't feel like they're very alike at all. She doesn't even like glyphs.#I think in general he feels a lot of resentment about how they remember him as something so innocent and simple #One of the interesting implications of how dead kids work in BB that I haven't explored much is--#--that they will be remembered for the most simple part of their existence #But they're like angels. They have a lot of tasks and jobs they carry out and they learn all that #And see what they could have been on earth. And even claim it. They aren't connected to that innocent image of themselves #Or even to the mortal plane in general. They have a stronger connection to the celestial one #So sometimes a parent will live a whole life thinking of the baby they lost #Only to meet their adult child in the afterlife.#BB!Snowcarve #There's a couple relevant young-angels actually I should write a blurb for the most important ones #Mole Moss Shrew and Snow.#Tw child death #Tw ableism

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tswwwit · 5 months

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I hope this doesn't come across the wrong way but i recently reread the entire familiar au (its as amazing as always!) and its so impressive to see how far you have come as a writer especially compared to the new cult au its honestly pretty inspiring

Thank you! It's truly nice to hear that I've made progress. I mean, obviously - hopefully - I would have after all this time, but sometimes the improvement is hard to see when you're so close to it.

#answers #I've been tempted at times to just take down some of my really old stuff #Because I am very 😬 when I reread it #But I think it stands as a nice relic/testament to how I've grown as a writer #In that I only roll around in agony about 90% of the time reading current writing now as opposed 575% with the old stuff #It feels like I don't know what I'm doing at any given time #But presumably I've learned SOMETHING #And my writing is not The Worst™#Funny how the baseline changes as skill changes because it's hard to remember sometimes that yes #Skill has improved!!#I say as I stare at this document with severe doubts and worry and agony #Nothing like looking at a 5k doc and going 'yeah this is only halfway to the end at BEST'#There is so much more yet to complete #Also super nice to hear that the cult thing is good to read #It's got a lot more visuals than my usual so I'm pushing my comfort zone #I am Not A Visual Person so that takes some Effort #All of these tags have been very navelgazing so here's a fun fact #If *I* can get better at writing by doing it for a long time #YOU can do it TOO and BETTER #It just takes - again - a lot of writing to get there

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thebramblewood · 6 months

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Read an exclusive excerpt of "Chapter 5: The Mysterious Cal and Lily" from Tangled Vines: A Complete Investigation of the Vatore Disappearances, the bestselling phenomenon sweeping Sim Nation!

The advent of the Roaring '20s put a new city on the map. Prohibition was in full swing across the nation (though often loosely and selectively enforced), but citizens were more eager than ever to revel in excess. Producers of alcoholic beverages (including the Vatore family itself, having swiftly resumed business operations despite the loss of its future inheritors) transitioned to an outward emphasis on medical spirits while moving recreational production underground. Equally clandestine speakeasys began cropping up by the dozens, but one city's winding sidewalks, grimy storefronts, and labyrinthine system of underground tunnels made it particularly well-suited to hosting these secret locales. Soon enough, San Myshuno was the pinnacle of glitz, glamor, and elegant debauchery. All who attended a party wanted to be seen. Curiously, though, two of the names most often uncovered in tabloid archives, Cal and Lily, seemed to fully avoid the increasingly ubiquitous flash of the camera. While other frequenters of the speakeasy circuit often found their grainy black and white faces in print, providing endless fodder for the burgeoning gossip rag industry, this pair remained elusive, which of course sold even more papers. Fellow partygoers pitched first-hand accounts to the highest bidders, and readers clung onto every salacious word. Lily and Cal were always observed to arrive together, but she would soon make a beeline for the gramophone while he settled in at the bar. Nearly every report calls Lily an exquisite beauty with an almost supernatural ability for drawing men into her orbit. In some instances, partygoers describe a herd of suitors nearly erupting into fisticuffs as they competed for her attention. It is impossible to say how many of these accounts are exaggerated or even fabricated. Nevertheless, it is clear she was quite the force. At the end of the night, she would leave with her chosen companion, stupefied by his stroke of good luck, on her arm. Meanwhile, Cal would watch listlessly from a distance, nursing a glass of whiskey he was never observed to actually drink. The relationship between the two was unclear, as was his reason for accompanying her, as he seemed to have little interest in the raucousness surrounding him. He rarely engaged with other guests or even Lily herself, though there is at least one report of an argument in which he seemed with little success to be dissuading her from leaving with yet another man. One cannot help but draw parallels to a certain set of siblings with suspiciously similar names. Despite being younger, Caleb Vatore was always said to be protective over his sister Lilith's interests, even if she rarely heeded his advice. Digging into the newspaper archives at Myshuno Meadows Library unearths several more disturbing accounts. Increasingly, there were whispers that the men Lily seduced completely vanished from San Myshuno society after coming into contact with her. While there was a small spike in unsolved murder cases at the time, a concrete connection between the victims and the mysterious Lily cannot be made. In one story, which admittedly reads like a hallucinatory drug trip, Lily is described as a succubus with glowing red eyes and sharp blood-stained teeth. This account was clearly dismissed, for its revelations were never entertained further. All at once, the champagne and glitter dissolved into a more sober era, and these socialites vanished from public life just as swiftly. In isolation, similarities between Cal and Lily and the disappeared Vatore siblings may seem like mere coincidences. In truth, it cannot even be proven that they existed. No official records matching either individual have been discovered. One could argue that they were works of fiction concocted to boost sales or composites drawn from several individuals. However, considered alongside the evidence to be presented in later chapters, the theory that this duo and the Vatores are one and the same becomes too tantalizingly probable to dismiss.

#ts4 #sims 4 #sims 4 story #ts4 story #simblr #story: hzid #lilith vatore #caleb vatore #oops i dropped something #thanks to the magic of storytelling i've obtained the footage #anyway i've decided lilith only kills men (on purpose anyway)#she doesn't count the accidents #also i realized while writing this that it was very subconsciously inspired by this kind of obscure british film called bright young things #(which is itself based on the novel vile bodies by evelyn waugh)#i remember it mainly being about vapid awful people in a downward spiral of increasingly debauched behavior #(in other words highly recommended)#but specifically there's a reporter character played by james mcavoy who picks up intel at parties #and then feverishly dictates his reports by phone in the middle of the night to ensure they make the morning edition #that's exactly what i'm picturing here #it's like the '20s version of celebrities being papped #anyway if you read everything under the cut and then also made it this far you're a real one #gonna cool it on the lore for now and hold onto the more interesting bits a while longer

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zishuge · 6 months

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Today I gave myself feels thinking about Fang Duobing, Di Feisheng, and Hulijing moving on and aging in a world without Li Lianhua. A world where Li Lianhua isn't there — but then again, he is there, in Lianhualou, and in the townspeople who flock to it, bearing gifts for the miracle doctor who once saved a life, fixed a roof, exposed a conman, comforted a child. Young Fang Duobing used to want to know every little detail about his hero, Li Xiangyi. Now Fang Duobing wants to know every detail about his beloved friend, Li Lianhua. The years pass and fewer people come. But if they remember him, Li Lianhua lives on.

(long post, half meta, half fic, bittersweet)

They travel together, with Hulijing, in Lianhualou. Fang Duobing has nothing better to do, so he takes up detective work again. Di Feisheng has nothing better to do, so he comes along. Everywhere they go, they look for Li Lianhua. And in their journeys, it seems like everywhere they go, someone is talking about Li Xiangyi. Li Xiangyi, who had always been something of a legend, but ever since his reappearance and subsequent (re)disappearance, has seemingly been elevated into something approaching godhood.

you should've seen him, people say, floating across the rooftops in red, cold and beautiful, like an avenging hero out of some novel. wasn't he dead? no — of course he wasn't, li xiangyi would never have been so easily killed. but it was bicha poison, i heard nobody could survive bicha poison. yes, he was definitely dead, and came back to life through dark magic. no, he'd been alive the whole time, just held captive by di feisheng. he tried to kill his shixiong ten years ago and failed, and came back to finish the job. no, his shixiong tried to kill the emperor and li xiangyi came to stop him. the emperor? impossible. yes — don't you know, li xiangyi is the emperor's long-lost son?

All of it only amuses Di Feisheng, but it irks Fang Duobing. The same Fang Duobing, who, when he was younger, would've hungered for every little detail about Li Xiangyi and begged to hear more, now finds it maddening to listen to these strangers talk about him as if they knew him. The world might have known Li Xiangyi, but it had never known Li Lianhua.

Li Lianhua, who could wield Shaoshi like it was a natural extension of his arm, but regularly cut his fingers clumsily slicing radishes and onions. Li Lianhua, who would invariably try to shrug off an attack of bicha poison, but yelped and jumped back from hot oil splatters in the kitchen like a child. Li Lianhua, who frowned when a passing carriage splashed mud onto his robes, but knelt carelessly into the dirt and grass to play with Hulijing.

None of them knew any of that.

But as Fang Duobing and Di Feisheng continue their travels, they begin to encounter other people as well. People who come running when they see Lianhualou in the distance tottering their way. People who come bearing gifts — a woman looking for the shenyi who had helped her with her back pain and also exposed the con artist who had tried to trick her daughter into marriage. A young man coming to thank the doctor who had given his father herbs for stress while uncovering the corrupt official who had falsely accused him of theft. An elderly couple looking for the young man who had helped them thatch their roof before a rainstorm and had given them some medicinal cream before he left. (One middle-aged man with a club, looking for the wangba quack doctor who had exposed his infidelity to his wife — he had left after one look at Di Feisheng, standing silently in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest and dao strapped across his back.) People who greet Hulijing like an old friend.

Fang Duobing listens eagerly to every story they tell him, and in return, he tells them about his brilliant, kind, exasperating friend. Di Feisheng rolls his eyes every time, but Fang Duobing notices he never walks away either. They don't talk about it. But it’s as if Li Lianhua returns, however briefly, during those visits; in those moments, Fang Duobing can almost see him standing there, bending down to pet Hulijing alongside these old friends as she grins her little doggy grin and wags her tail. She escorts their guests to the door, and sits in the doorway after they leave, looking out at the world as though waiting. He doesn't ask if Di Feisheng can see him too. They sit and share wine after these visits, and eat the fruit that the visitors bring, until Di Feisheng can stand the heavy silence no longer and pushes Fang Duobing outside to spar. Hulijing follows faithfully, as always.

(fang duobing had brought home a puppy, once. he can't remember where he found it, but he remembers that he had held it in his lap in his wheelchair, eager to show it to his uncle before taking it home to his mother. his uncle had glared, and told him that dogs were only useful to guard the house, and tianji manor already had guards, human ones, and that fang duobing would do better to focus on his swordplay rather than waste time on such useless and frivolous things. he had taken the puppy away and fang duobing had never seen it again. it wasn't until those blurry months as he rode across the countryside looking for li lianhua, hulijing trotting along ever so loyally at his side, that he realized this was just another way that shan gudao and li xiangyi were opposites.)

The years pass, and there are fewer and fewer people who come. One day Fang Duobing wakes up with the unbearable realization that he is now older than Li Lianhua had ever been, would ever be, and is unable to get out of bed for a good half a shichen. Di Feisheng leaves him be.

The years pass, and Di Feisheng grows older too. There are lines on his face, snowy white beginning to thread through his jet-black hair. Fang Duobing wants very much to tease him about it, but the words catch in his throat when he looks too closely at the signs of time on Di Feisheng's face. What a precious and altogether rare thing it is, to age.

The years pass, and Hulijing grows older too. Fang Duobing finds that more and more often, Hulijing can no longer keep up with him when he goes riding. He stops going riding. She gets cold more easily now too, and more and more often Fang Duobing wakes in the morning with Hulijing curled up under the covers next to him, her wet nose shoved into his armpit. He holds her close and thinks about Li Lianhua shivering in his arms.

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It's been nearly a year since their last visitor, but today there is an old man. He comes in the morning, bringing a basket of plums. A long time ago, he says, a young man who lived here saved my life. I had been poisoned, he says, by my son who wanted my money and my lands. The doctors said there was no cure. But then the young man came and performed a miracle. He saved my life. He saved my life.

Fang Duobing knows it was no miracle that saved him. He asks for the old man's hand and it is given readily, albeit bemusedly. He presses his fingers to the inside of the man's wrist, and is greeted with a whisper-faint, gentle thrum of yangzhouman — a soft hello from a much-beloved friend. You fool, he thinks dazedly, caught somewhere between overwhelmed that here is someone, inside whom a piece of Li Lianhua lives on, and so bitterly angry. What had it cost? Some hours, days, weeks? He doesn't let himself think of what another week might have afforded them in those wild final days, in their desperate search for a cure. Fang Duobing gives the old man back his hand and blinks back the sting of tears. He cannot talk about Li Lianhua today. He apologizes and tells him that the man he is looking for is traveling and won't be back for a few days, but that Fang-mou will pass on the message. Before he leaves, the man leans down to rub at Hulijing's ear. My old friend, he says, like me, you, too, are truly old now.

After the man leaves, Fang Duobing folds himself into a sit on the floor of Lianhualou and gathers Hulijing into his arms. Gently — her joints are stiff now, and he can't haul her around, can't roughhouse with her the way he used to. Di Feisheng comes down the stairs from where he had been listening; he stands behind Fang Duobing and places a warm, steady hand on his shoulder. At the edge of his vision, near the door, Fang Duobing can see the hazy hem of green robes. If he looks up, he wonders brokenly, what would he see? The face of a man forever frozen in youth? Or a face lined with age, snowy white beginning to thread through jet-black hair? He suddenly finds that he cannot bear to find out.

Fang Duobing knows. He knows that the myth and the outlandish rumors about proud, arrogant, beautiful Li Xiangyi will never die. But he also knows that one day, there will be no one else who comes to Lianhualou; no one left who remembers gentle, sly, infuriating Li Lianhua. One day, the old man will pass on and the piece of Li Lianhua that he carries with him will fade as well. And one day… Fang Duobing presses his forehead against the soft fur of Hulijing's neck where it has gone white and thin with age. He closes his eyes and breathes.

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Years and years and years later, Fang Duobing is awakened from where he has fallen into a light doze reading in his chair by a soft knock on the door. There is a woman standing outside, holding a small basket of pears. I think I remember this building, she says. I must've only been six years old, but I had run off and lost my parents. I fell down in the street and skinned my knees. A kind gege helped me and gave me a piece of candy. He said he would walk me home but I said I didn't know whether I should tell him where I lived. He laughed and asked if it would help if I knew where he lived. He pointed to the most fantastical and wild house I had ever seen. I think it was this place. Xiansheng, does he live here? Who was he? Do you know him?

Fang Duobing smiles and invites her inside. On the bed, the small white dog that Di Feisheng has named, ridiculously, Baigujing, raises her head and thumps her tail a few times in hello. Di Feisheng looks up from where he is writing a letter at the table. Fang Duobing leads the woman over and waves at her to sit down. He sits across from her, ignoring Di Feisheng's eyeroll, and offers her a piece of candy. He always keeps candy around. Fang Duobing smiles once more and says, if you'd like to know — there is so much I would like to tell you.

#i just... the idea that xiaobao just wants li lianhua to live in any way he can #if he can't live on in reality xiaobao will make damn sure he lives on in someone's memory #something something you die a second death when there is no one left to remember you something something legacy #one day there will only be fang duobing and di feisheng #fang duobing who was li lianhua's friend #and di feisheng who was li xiangyi's equal #but it is not this day #i hurt myself #mysterious lotus casebook #cw: pet death #it's only very vaguely mplied but just in case #my ramblings #how long does transferred inner power stay in someone else's body? *shrug*#that's probably not how the force works #i write economic research for a living why am i suddenly writing mlc fic i haven't written fic in 10 years THE BRAINROT IT IS REAL #in my mind these are simple townspeople not caught up on jianghu things & thus never knew that li lianhua was li xiangyi - whoever that is #baigujing is “white bone spirit” from journey to the west bc i thought di feisheng would find it funny #but did journey to the west even exist yet in lhl time? probably not? IDK i'm uncultured.

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