#there are problematic aspects from years ago

[queerfables]

Taking away the glass?

Oh gosh I'm actually so keen to talk about this so thank you for the opening!

Context: Responding to akaitsukicat's artwork of Crowley and Aziraphale separated by a glass wall, I said that the reason we're all such wrecks over their kiss is because after 6000 years in canon and 33 years in real life, that kiss was "taking away the glass".

The glass is a metaphor that media scholar Henry Jenkins uses to explain the appeal of slash, originally published in 1993. Here, "slash" refers to queer re-interpretation of heterosexual media, including transformative works exploring those readings.

This is what Jenkins says about the glass:

When I try to explain slash to non-fans, I often reference that moment in Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan where Spock is dying and Kirk stands there, a wall of glass separating the two longtime buddies. Both of them are reaching out towards each other, their hands pressed hard against the glass, trying to establish physical contact. They both have so much they want to say and so little time to say it. Spock calls Kirk his friend, the fullest expression of their feelings anywhere in the series. Almost everyone who watches the scene feels the passion the two men share, the hunger for something more than what they are allowed. And, I tell my nonfan listeners, slash is what happens when you take away the glass. The glass, for me, is often more social than physical; the glass represents those aspects of traditional masculinity which prevent emotional expressiveness or physical intimacy between men, which block the possibility of true male friendship. Slash is what happens when you take away those barriers and imagine what a new kind of male friendship might look like. One of the most exciting things about slash is that it teaches us how to recognize the signs of emotional caring beneath all the masks by which traditional male culture seeks to repress or hide those feelings.

The vid I refer to, inspired by Jenkin's comments, is The Glass by thingswithwings. It's a beautiful vid, sad and hopeful and empowering, with a very moving commentary on fandom history. It was originally published in 2008, which is relevant to understanding the position it takes in the dialogue around queer relationships in media.

Here's thingswithwings' summary of the vid, as it appears on YouTube:

Henry Jenkins, speaking of the Spock death scene from Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, said, "slash is what happens when you take away the glass." It has been said, in response, that death also happens when you take away the glass. ie, if you took away the glass Kirk would die of radiation poisoning too; the barrier between desiring men cannot be removed on pain of death. Homosexuality, or just loving touch between two people of the same gender, is equivalent to death in this media narrative. One of the interesting things about slash is the way it takes away the glass, then puts it back, then takes it away, then puts it back, often pleasurably. I think this is both problematic and powerful. It is problematic because it reasserts the impossibility of the touch (it fetishizes oppression in a negative manner); it is powerful - and good - because it dwells on and thinks about and removes the glass (it fetishizes oppression in a transformative manner). One of the interesting things about mainstream media is that it continues to put the glass back up, no matter how hard we try to tear it down. Queer desiring touches have been, and remain, imaginable but impossible. TL;DR ALTERNATE SUMMARY: THERE SEEMS TO BE SOME KIND OF INVISIBLE BARRIER IDK WHAT IT MIGHT BE

In regards to Good Omens, it's relevant that this entire conversation about homosocial relationships in media takes place within the 29 year period between the publication of Good Omens the book and the adaptation of the story to screen. The vid was created 15 years ago - which is to say 18 years after the book was published and 11 years before season 1 was released - and it talks about realised queer desire in mainstream media as being so impossible that it is equivalent to death. That is the kind of resistance that queer representation in pop culture has been up against, these last three decades.

Crowley/Aziraphale, as depicted in the book, is such a classic example of slash. I've seen some people who read the book in a contemporary context saying they didn't necessarily pick up on any subtext between the characters, and I suspect this is a mark of cultural expectations. Firstly, because the cultural references that the intentional subtext relies on have become obscured over time - see Neil Gaiman's explanation of the "consenting cycle repairmen" line. But more importantly because the audience's frame of reference for unintentional subtext has shifted, too. What is unsayable and which silences are emotionally loaded has changed over time. Even if you are intentionally using a queer lens in your reading, you might not see subtext in the same places that someone would even 10 years ago.

For example, take this passage from the book:

On the whole, neither [Aziraphale] nor Crowley would have chosen each other's company, but they were both men, or at least men-shaped creatures, of the world, and the Arrangement had worked to their advantage all this time. Besides, you grew accustomed to the only other face that had been around more or less consistently for six millennia.

On it's face, this line suggests that the relationship between the two of them is a matter of convenience more than desire. Maybe that's the intended reading and maybe that's how it started or how they justify their association to themselves, but taken together with how deeply they know each other and how they are always each other's first thought in a crisis, suddenly "neither would have chosen the other's company" sounds like an extremely British way to say they care about each other far more than they were supposed to. Plus, this is Aziraphale's take on their relationship, and it plays rather beautifully against Crowley's much simpler expression of the exact same sentiment:

Aziraphale. The Enemy, of course. But an enemy for six thousand years now, which made him a sort of friend.

To go back to Henry Jenkin's wise words, what we're seeing here is Aziraphale thinking about Crowley through the glass - through the "aspects of traditional masculinity which prevent emotional expressiveness or physical intimacy between men". If you came up in slash fandom at a time when seeing queer relationships in canon was unthinkable, you probably find it easier to identify the gap between how Aziraphale thinks about his relationship with Crowley and how their relationship actually functions. That gap was where a lot of slash lived.

You might say that the book shows Crowley and Aziraphale watching each other through the glass, and season 1 is them pressing up against it. They're still prevented from showing the full depth of feeling between them, they still hunger for more than they're allowed, but they are reaching for it. We see the history of their relationship developing through the ages. The unsayable is still left unsaid, but we feel the weight of it in everything they do. They come so very close but they still can't cross that threshold.

And then there's season 2. Within the text, Crowley and Aziraphale are not just pressing against the glass, they're actively trying to dismantle it. They're searching for a door to the other side. They're inspecting for weak points where they could cut their way through. And then suddenly they're out of time and out of options and the glass is still between them, and there's nothing they can do.

As the audience, you feel that desperation. You feel that grief. And if you're someone who's been watching the glass go back up on every relationship you thought might stand a chance of tearing it down, it hits hard. You're longing vicariously with the characters, but you're longing for yourself too, to see queer desire made possible. To see queer touch made not just imaginable but real.

And then, with all hope lost, Crowley throws himself through the glass. It doesn't matter that it doesn't save them. They kiss and it changes everything. Queer desire is no longer up for debate. Queer touch is no longer impossible. They kiss and the glass shatters, entirely and irrevocably.

This is why it matters so much that they did kiss, even though the love between them was already undeniable. For thirty years, Crowley and Aziraphale were part of a media landscape that relentlessly reinforced the glass at every turn and flooded fatal radiation through any crack they couldn't fix. In a different context, that kiss would be less vital to affirming their relationship. But in the world we live in, with the specific history that this story has, I don't think anything else could have done what it did. The glass between these characters had been reinforced over decades, in a culture that made the barriers to open intimacy between men inescapable. Their kiss was what it took to break it.

And by shattering the glass, this story has fundamentally rewritten what is possible. It proves the rules preventing true affection between people of the same gender can be defied. Queer people are already becoming more visible in pop culture; we're no longer reliant on slash reimagining queer longing between heterosexual leads. But Crowley and Aziraphale's kiss is cathartic and vindicating in an entirely different way. It turns slash into intentional queerness. It takes a fetishisation of oppression vacillating between problematic and transformative, and finally stands up on the side of powerful, empowering transformation. It confronts the barriers that once rendered this desiring touch impossible, and breaks through them once and for all.

That's what taking away the glass means. That's what Good Omens did.

#good omens #good omens meta #taking away the glass #fandom history #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #fable talks good omens

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but how has your opinion changed on Steven Universe now than when it first aired? Like I have fond memories of watching the show while it was airing but now I realize that it had a lot of problems that I feel like a lot of fans either flat out ignore or bend over backwards to make sure their rose tinted glasses stay on.

... okay, fair question. Let's talk about this.

I'll try not to wax poetic too long, but there are a lot of things to be said here.

First and foremost - how has my opinion changed since the show has ended?

Simply put - it hasn't.

When I started watching Steven Universe over 7 years ago, I didn't have much knowledge of it. I sat down, saw a few of episodes and went 'well, this is a silly show for kids with a goofy but loveable protagonist... but it seems like it's also incredibly charming with its delivery and has some nice, more complex themes about loss and healing and grief throughout.'

And if you ask me what Steven Universe is now... I would probably say that exact same thing.

Am I wearing rose tinted lenses? Interesting question.

What ARE 'rose tinted lenses' in this context anyway?

What do these lenses represent? What do they obscure?

Since you didn't go into specifics, I can only assume what you're referring to when you say that many fans ignore the show's problems.

There have been many discussions surrounding various aspects of the show and how it might be read as 'problematic' (ahhh how I've come to despise that word.... without context, it has all the descriptive power of the word 'icky' - none of the critical details and all of the emotional punch of scrunching up your face like a cat that just sniffed a lemon...)

Is this about something as simple as the 'SU doesn't have a consistent size for its characters' debate?

Because that has been gone back to, over and over again, and proven to be a point of opinion. SU favored allowing storyboarders to show off their personal flourish, and even though Peridot was 30% hair in that one episode, it did not overall take away from the plotline being told, which was their goal. If you wanted to watch a show with consistent styling throughout, you can always watch a 3D modeled show, but keeping that up was simply never one of SU's main pillars. And I feel like it didn't have to be.

Is this about something more complex such as the way Rose was presented?

...and how her arc was shown backwards instead of forwards - showing first the person she became in the end, and afterwards revealing all the growth she had to have to get there?

That was on purpose! And I don't think this is a problem. It's a feature, not a bug. Rose was never meant to be an ideal character - she was meant to be complicated and messy, and I think the fact that the fandom is so split in their opinions of her shows that the Crewniverse pulled that off really well!

She fucked over Bismuth! She forced Pearl to be silent! Those are both parts of her character arc that were never resolved because she died before she could resolve it - that's BY DESIGN. Sometimes, you just do something absolutely stupid and cruel, and you cannot go back to fix it.

Is this about the Diamonds? The fact that they were not put in space jail, after being put on trial for space crimes, and then publicly executed for space eco-genocide?

Here's the thing - most people I know who watched and loved SU are fully aware of that. But simply put - Steven Universe was not a story about Revenge.

Steven Universe was a story about love. A story about family. A story about truth, and lies, and hurt, and healing. About how sometimes healing doesn't happen. And how sometimes it will, but you won't be around to see it.

But it's not a story that can be all things for all people.

That is the thesis of my reply: It is a story.

It is not a manifesto. It is not a bible. It is not a Complete Truth.

It is a single story. Made by a group of very talented people, who cared about these characters, who did their best. They made a funny, emotional, well-drawn and complex cartoon show about the things THEY personally wanted to tell stories about.

Does it answer all questions the way everyone wants them answered? No. That's impossible.

Everyone wants a different story. Everyone wants a different solution, a different resolution. A different ending.

Steven Universe is one story. It cannot satisfy all people.

So when you ask me 'has your opinion of Steven Universe changed'? The answer is 'no'.

I went in, expecting to see a story. I saw a lot of what I liked! I saw some parts which I thought were interesting. I saw some parts which, yes, I disagreed with a little.

But overall, it's a good story. And that's what I expected, and that's what I got, which means I'm pretty satisfied. I love that story.

I feel like recently, there's this expectation of media, to be Everything For All People. And it's a bit unrealistic. No one call tell the perfect story. We are all simply telling the stories we want to tell. And people will vibe with that, more or less.

A single story, made by a small group of people, will never be that for you. There will never be an Unproblematic Cartoon that you watch that will be devoid of things you disagree with.

Being critical of media doesn't mean 'Criticize the FUCK outta that media, and the one with the least criticisms is the best one'.

Critical thinking is about evaluating things critically - that means being critical of YOURSELF. Being critical of your OWN reactions. Asking 'why did I like this?' and 'why did I dislike this?'. Asking 'this doesn't mesh with me, but who WOULD it mesh with? It isn't for me, but who is it for? Who would it hurt, but also who would it help?'

Some people HATED how SU: Future ended. They beat their fists on the wall and cried about how Steven was leaving his family behind, and how THEY could never imagine doing something like that, and how he was running away from his problems just like Rose had.

Me? I loved it. I think it was the right choice, and I COULD imagine it and thought it was in character. I thought he needed to be his own person, instead of shouldering everyone else's responsibilities for once. Was one of us more right than the other? Maybe not? Maybe that was the whole point?

Loving things is not about putting on rose colored glasses. Sometimes, choosing to love something with flaws is an act of rebellion. It's about knowing you have differences, but understanding that there is value in the things you DO agree on, and knowing you can consume that.

Healthy consumption of media does not mean throwing the whole cartoon away as soon as you notice something is wrong with it, like a bruise on an apple.

Healthy consumption of media involves critical thinking AND feeding yourself. Acknowledging you may disagree with parts of it, but not starving yourself just because your apples all have small imperfections.

Eat, for fuck's sake. Feed yourself. You'll feel better.

Thassit.

#chekhov answers #steven universe

[etheries1015]

AYYE EITHERIES YOU'RE BACK

You're on the stan Lilia path I see? You are a person of culture as well. I was reading about myths and realized that the non-human immortals in Yuu's world is totally different from the faes aka the only non-human immortals in TWST because most of them either love or lust for humans. For example, I have heard that nine-tailed foxes seduce humans to drain their life force, youkais falling for humans, and in my country there are tons of stories where genies fell in love with humans. On the other hand, twst faes are like EWWW humans. Total opposites despite both having magic powers lmao.

Imagine the anti-human faes like general era Lilia, Sebek, and Baul with you, their close friend who's a powerful non-human immortal thing. You have great powers but what pisses them off IS THAT YOU ARE A HUMANSEXUAL 🤯👹😠🤬 Out of all fine faes you decided to flirt with HUMANS

Remember the distracted boyfriend meme years ago? The one where the guy is distracted and admiring the girl in red clothing while his gf is angry right next to him? That sums up your friendship dynamic with the anti-human fae.

I'M BAACKK yesss I am slowly turning into..like..A Lilia stan blog...BUAHAHA. I'm about ready to drop an ungodly amount of money for Lilia merch to fill my hyper fixation. Someone needs to shoot me and drag my corpse outside to touch some grass, or before I make some seriously problematic financial decisions.

I LIKE THAT HAHAHA Reader being a Yokai or succubus of somesort (because i'm hrny 24/7) and so infatuated with humans, being friends with Faes that have no interest in them is very interesting to you. Like. They are so cute when they wriggle around on their two legs with very little going on in their brains...it's less of love for humans, but more of...infatuation? Interest? Kind of like someone who enjoys reading mythology and going down a rabbit hole of mythical creatures they find fascinating.

Lilia- y/n. For a being incredibly talented in many aspects of martial arts and magical properties, I must say I am incredibly disappointed in your choice of whom you bring home at night.

Y/n - I have told you this time and time again, they are useful for replenishing my energy, Lilia! I don't understand what is with the fae of your world that hate humans so much. Aren't they cute? how they crawl around kind of like ants?

Lilia- That's...hmm. I do not agree with your stance, however...your analogy is kind of funny...

Baul, annoyed- I feel that this war should make it fairly obvious why we have such distaste for humans. Why don't you try another species? Beastmen, perhaps? Or even Fae? They have ample amount of magical energy you can also obtain from.

Y/n- that's like telling a meat eater to substitute chicken for chicken-flavored soy products. It just isn't the same! You two will never understand.

Baul, folding his arms- you're lucky you are aiding us in the war. Albiet at the price the shitty humans you like to mingle with despite your martial prowess.

Lilia- and that time you stopped mid battle simply to ask a human if they'd like to sleep with you.

Y/n, shrugging- don't knock it til' you try it

Lilia- ...i'll pass. Go shower, you smell like human stench.

Right to left;

Lilia, immortal/magic being Yuu, humans

HAHAHA thank you for this, it made me cackle

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland headcannons #baul twst #Lilia vanrouge #twst headcannons

[kaiowut99]

A Special Announcement~ | Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V Tag Force Special Re-Translation Project!

I've been itching to get around to posting about this for a few months now, but wanted to wait until I'd worked on enough for it, but also had the idea to create an announcement trailer to go with it for added good measure--after recording and editing clips for a couple weeks and leveling the audio last night, heremst we are! (For some clips, I forgot to turn off the PPSSPP emulator's DevMenu option so that shows up in the top-left, buuut I didn't feel like re-recording those, lmao.)

Details worth reading below the cut here, but tl;dr work has been in progress for over a year in between things, work will continue to be in progress for a while, and the release will happen when everything's ready, but stay tuned, fun's getting started etc etc~

So, I'm sure most of us are familiar with the as-yet-unlocalized-by-Konami TFSP, the seventh and last entry in the Tag Force series on the PSP that came out early in ARC-V's run (featuring the first five series which was a cool first), as well as the current translations out there originally worked on by the guys at XenoTranslations (omarrrio and ScrewTheRules/ClickClaxer01 at GBATemp handling the card and story/etc translations, respectively) and how there are... some issues with what's out there. Everything from the DM story mode being loaded with YGOTAS references (no shade to YGOTAS and much respect to LK/Martin for his ongoing work on it still making me laugh sometimes, ofc) to the off-the-cuff edginess of 2014-2015-era internet culture and the problematic (in some cases, derogatory) language that permeated it--though to its credit, some parts do have some level of translation attempted, but taken as a whole, it can definitely turn people off from giving the game a try and seeing what it brings to the table (which is still a good amount despite the corners Konami cut here/there compared to prior TF games).

I actually did attempt a translation of my own back in 2015 (if you've been following me for a long time, you might remember it lol), tackling the GX story text starting with Judai's heart events, but eventually put it on the backburner as I focused more on my GX subbing work and beginning to finalize everything (which I'm still doing). Sometime in 2022, a friend over on NeoArkCradle (the "anonymous YGO fan" in the opening screen) was poring over the story text and patching it up the best he could to remove the references and inaccuracies with more coherent work, and after a while of seeing what he was working with in the Discord, I was a bit blown away by just how inaccurate much of it was--so alongside him, and using the better tools available since then (including some really awesome work from both nzxth2 [who did a proper re-translation of 5D's TF6 not too long ago and was kind enough to release his tools for it] and our coding helper Xan1242 who we eventually reached out to for some help), I decided to *cracks knuckles* get involved and help give everything a more accurate and professional translation, much like I do with my GX subs, working directly off the Japanese text and files. I've been taking cracks at everything in between the GX episodes I've been finalizing going back to at least last January (and I'd used my little hiatus after finalizing GX Season 2's subs to really get at some other stuff throughout the game), starting with re-translating DM's story text but also properly translating other aspects of the game, from the character names (using the original Japanese names, including those of the TF-exclusive characters, partly since Konami made a whole mess of them in English TF1-5), in-duel dialogue, pack descriptions, and more to images with Japanese text (such as localizing the in-duel cut-in onomatopoeia as you see in the video above, or other little images throughout) using some Photoshop skills I've picked up. And it's been a joint effort, as said NAC friend and I have been bouncing off how we'd like to see this go between us to stay on the same page and all, while also checking with other translators there for second/third opinions as needed.

Our plan is to release two versions of a translation--one which uses the OCG [translated] card names in Story Mode, in-duel, and other text but not in the game's card system (mainly to deal with story-relevant notes like Osiris vs Slifer with the Gods or things like not-Utopia Hope being symbolic between Yuma and Astral, akin to how I do my GX subs), and one which uses the TCG card names in everything (like how the official subs go about it). While we're mostly working with the Japanese game files due to how the Xeno team went about decoding everything, we'll be using the card-system-related files from the fixed ISO provided by FLSGaming which fixed some issues that had been present there. And Xan has helped us with a plugin that will be used to apply our translations to the system files that were hard to edit otherwise (things like the character and recipe names, as well as the pack names pulled from for the Card Description screen), but more on how that'll work once this is ready for release, lol. At some point, I'd like to also look at HDifying textures and things, but that's definitely a bonus-level thing for after the main work here is done.

SO.

Currently, Story-Mode-wise, I've gone through everything up to Yusei's events--so Dark Yugi/Kaiba/Jounouchi/Ishizu/Mai in DM, Judai/Manjoume/Asuka/Misawa/Ryou in GX, and Yusei in 5D's have been fully retranslated, though I took initial cracks at Yuma and Yuya's events to get content for this video lol (I've also been intentionally holding off on as much ZEXAL as I can until I've properly watched the whole show so I have context). I haven't tackled overworld text yet, though (like pre-duel or the tournament-related text, which is all in the same file as all the story text). I've also been handling the in-duel dialogue as I go through the character stories, so also just up to Yusei, though I did take initial cracks at Aki's, Yuma and Shark's, and Yuya and Yuzu's for the video.

Other things tackled that were sprinkled into the video, along with some other notes:

Pack names and descriptions have been retranslated, though the descriptions may see minor edits closer to release for a little variety between worlds given the different characters at the shop. Character recipe names were also retranslated, with Yugipedia's translations for them used as an occasional second opinion, though ones based on pack names had to be abbreviated in spots.

Menu text, from the Options to Help screens and stuff in between, has been retranslated, as have in-duel text strings (so, you'll see a full "Activate Effect" instead of "Activate" or "Switch to Attack/Defense Position" instead of "Switch to ATK/DEF Position", etc--also fixed the "BATTELE PHASE" graphic typo, and NAC friend created a new translation for the "Turn Change" graphic for accuracy since ENG TF1-5 made that into "Next Player's Turn").

Database stuff, such as the Sound Test, Tutorials, Duel Missions, etc., have been retranslated closer to the Japanese text; originally I retranslated the Tutorial text via hex editor, with compromises done on quite a bit of it due to the space limits, but as Xan recently updated a text extractor tool of theirs to more cleanly pull out and reinsert that text, I've been going through and fleshing out those translations more (on my commutes to/from work mostly, to be productive lol).

As mentioned, I've been localizing/translating Japanese-text images throughout the game as I come across them, like with the in-duel onomatopoeia that come up during cut-ins or images in the shop/duel/etc screens using Japanese text, to make sure the game is fully translated.

The series logos, used during the title sequence and in the Series Select screens, were updated with translated fan edits shared on Deviantart (which we'll credit in the final release) for DM and GX, while the 5D's-ARC-V logos were edited to enlarge the "Yu-Gi-Oh!" text on them that was pretty hard to see originally.

The game's original opening sequence starts on an anti-piracy message before going into the Konami logo and then a "From Yu-Gi-Oh!..." screen before the opening animation for each series logo--the original team decided to use the first image to vent their frustration at Konami for not localizing this game, and while that's valid (to some extent), we thought we'd use the opportunity to dedicate this project to Kazuki Takahashi for inspiring our love for YGO and the place it's had in our hearts for all these years.

We'll be updating the names of cards that had TCG releases after the original patch was worked on/updated by FLSG to those corresponding names.

Xan has been working on many UI fixes for us to apply with this, among them 3-line dialogue box text as is used in the ENG TF1-5 games--once implemented for TFSP, I'll be going over everything to make full use of that extra space where needed, so things might not look as they do in the video by then.

Character bios will be worked on after I've done the story stuff, though I've taken initial cracks at it for Yuma and Yuya's bios for the video, along with translating the location/affiliation names ("Domino High School," "Satellite," etc).

Currently no release date is planned, as I'm working on this between my GX-finalizing work and actual IRL work, though we'll see how later this year looks as more work gets done--but as noted in the video, all things being equal, it will be released when everything is ready. I'll try to post regular updates or rambles now that this announcement's been made, lol, but do try not to constantly check in on a release date. 🙏🏽

All that said, I think that covers just about everything I wanted to put out there with this, lol. It's been fun to work on this so far and getting to see what I've re-translated in-game is definitely neat; looking forward to us being able to release everything when ready.

Stay tuned for more; the fun's just getting started!

#yugioh #ygo #yugioh dm #GX #yugioh gx #5D's #yugioh 5ds #yugioh 5d's #ZEXAL #yugioh zexal #yugioh arc v #arc v #tag force #tag force special #tfsp #ygo tfsp #ygo tag force #yugioh tag force #my work #tfsp retranslation #project rambling #[dunno who might've caught onto my slight hinting at this in some of my GX release posts lol but hey] #also you'd be surprised at how much text is recycled from the earlier TFs and TFSP that goes unused #maybe they planned to add more and didn't but who's to say #was also a shame they cut the unique field animations but may look into seeing if it's possible to restore 'em #but woot glad to put this out there lol

[onewhowantstobeunderstood]

Current leftism is the Big Brother

This is a realization that I had five years ago.

I've never been a left-wing follower or a right-wing. I prefer to walk in the middle like Buddhism has always inspired me. No, more than that, I prefer to be a free thinker. Some left-wing ideas are awesome. Some right-wing ideas are good. Some left-wing ideas are wicked. Some right-wing ideas are cruel. But rooting for a political party, as if it's a sports team, will create a mob-like mentality.

Worse, cult-like mentality.

For some reason, the left has become an extreme cult of desperate progression without an ounce of care. In a period of two years, we've seen the trans acceptance movement (which was awesome) jump to the forced acceptance of a trans woman, guilty of rape, to be transferred to a female prison. What followed was the rape and violence against several female inmates. In a period of twenty years, we've seen the sexual liberation of women turn into the acceptance of nine-month pregnancy abortion (which is clear murder, given some people are born with seven, or eight months... Me included).

What's the final goal of this rushed progression?

What's a perfect world in the eyes of a leftist? Every time I asked, they never had a clear vision. They didn't know. The goal of the left is just the progression. But will they know the time to stop? Probably not. Because, if they lived in a utopia, they would do what their ideology tells them... to change the status quo for more progression.

The left was created from dissatisfaction. If that's the foundation of the ideology, the left will never be truly satisfied.

But what makes me think that the current (mostly US) leftism has unbalanced the world towards a 1984, by George Orwell, type of reality was the subtle use of doublethink, newspeak, and thoughtcrime. Let's go, one by one.

Doublethink: In the book, doublethink is the acceptance of opposing concepts by indoctrination. For example, Winston had to accept that 2+2 was both four and five. Because, if Big Brother says it's five, one cannot doubt the morals and good intentions of Big Brother. Now, applying doublethink to leftism, we have gender studies. Male and female chromosomes are the equivalent of 2+2 equal four. But the complex studies of genders as a social construct, non-binary, non-conforming, ever-changing, never-settling is the equivalent of 2+2 equals five. The indoctrination of gender studies has the goal of dissatisfaction. One, subjected to such, should never be satisfied with it's own body, self, and family ties (much like a cult, parting the individual from it's family). And if the individual is dissatisfied, it is pushed towards progression. Which, often, results in body modification. These victims (sometimes, as young as five years old) become live propaganda. And, despite all the changes, they end up still dissatisfied.

Newspeak: In the book, newspeak is the manipulation of language for the benefit of Big Brother. Some words, erased, like 'lovely', 'freedom', 'lie', 'love'. And some words, created and enforced, like 'upsub' that means the greatness in submitting to Big Brother. Or 'crimestop', that means not accepting ideas that go against Big Brother. The current leftism uses newspeak on a daily basis. And they shift or create more words daily too. Woke, equity, gender studies, pregnant people, latinx, systemic, structural, social justice, microaggression, problematic, cis, cultural appropriation, intersectionality, mansplain, trigger, theybies, maps (minor-attracted people, formerly known are pedophiles). All of these words have the goal of causing confusion. To describe something simple as if it's extremely hidden, new, and complex.

Thoughtcrime: In the book, thoughtcrime is any thought or belief that goes against the party Ingsoc (English Socialism) or Big Brother. Now, this is the most basic aspect of current leftism. No one is allowed to question abortion, or trans progression, or the lgbt change of name for inclusion (which certainly weakened the lgbt community's strength). No one is allowed to question feminism or racial arguments. No one is allowed to question left-wing leaders and misconduct. And, most important, no one is allowed to question progression. If anyone does so, they are immediately ostracized and shamed, being called transphobic, racist, homophobic, and misogynistic without committing said crime (which weakens the severity of the crime itself).

All the tactics used by Ingsoc and Big Brother in the books 1984, by George Orwell, are being currently used by the left. George Orwell, himself, was a democratic socialist, but he was also a free thinker. And he wrote 1984 and Animal Farm as criticisms against Stalinism and the Third Reich. He wrote the flaws of both right-wing and left-wing into a single book. The far left and the far right are so similar that they almost touch, like says the Horseshoe Theory.

Personally, I don't think this division of right-wing and left-wing is serving society anymore. Our political concepts need to evolve in union (and not sink deeper into hateful separation).

If a single person reads this post and realizes that they are free thinkers, I'll be happy. The left is not the moral ground that it claims to be. Because their morals are not open and honest. Their morals are constructed by repeated arguments. Much less, the left is a counter-culture. The left and its progressiveness, right now, is the status quo. They will walk society forward, without a care, even if straight into a cliff.

#anti leftist #anti leftism #anti woke #free thinker #antisemitism

[saltwaterandstars]

I mentioned in a little comments conversation with @bookhobbit that over the last year I've worked really hard on changing my relationship with my body (which had become totally medicalised after I developed long-term health problems). I said I'd write something about how I've gone about this, so here it is - a long post with brief medical details under the cut. This is not a post about what I think anyone else could or should do - I don't know what would be possible or helpful for anyone else. It's just a description of what I've been doing in response to a challenging aspect of my life.

Some background. I have several long-term health conditions, the most problematic being an autoimmune condition that causes muscle damage. If you can't get it into remission then it becomes a progressive disease, causing damage to the muscles that are needed to walk and lift things, and to control swallowing and breathing. So yeah, you want to get it into remission. I'm lucky in that I've responded to the immunosuppressants and the condition stays in remission or near enough as long as I take the meds, so my muscles are not getting massively damaged at the moment. But the meds have wrecked my stomach lining and intermittently do bad things to my liver, and the multiple muscle biopsies I needed to get a diagnosis have done other damage, and because of the meds, even in phases when the autoimmune condition is in remission, I still regularly have unpleasant symptoms. And when I take a break from the meds, the muscle damage starts again.

Relationship to my body. Since all this started a few years ago my life has felt like an endless stream of MRI scans, medications, biopsies, blood tests, injections, and rehab. And my body has come to feel like a collection of broken parts, just a heap of systems that don't work and feel bad and are frightening and exhausting. About a year ago I recognised that my relationship to my body had been completely changed by all this. I had come to see my body, to experience my body, as just a collection of medical problems and nothing more. And of course, that was being reinforced by the regular conversations I have to have with doctors about it all—dispassionate, diagnostic conversations about whatever bits of my body are currently failing to perform normally. I had come to experience my body as a bag of broken medical objects—and that is absolutely not the relationship I want to have with it. So, I decided to do what I could to change that relationship.

How I went about changing my relationship with my body. What I can’t change is the fact that I have long-term health conditions and that means symptoms and treatments to varying degrees for the rest of my life. I can’t change the fact that there are parts of my body, whole systems, that just don’t work well. But what I had to recognise is that my body is not merely that; I am not merely that. And knowing intellectually that I am more than a collection of symptoms was not enough. I needed to retrain my attentional habits to notice more than just medical stuff. And I needed to start treating my body as more than just medical stuff.

I’m lucky that I have some personal resources that I could lean on to do this:

I’m a (non-theist) pagan and I’m used to using ritual to turn towards painful experiences and explore them and set specific intentions about them

I have a decades-long history of mindfulness practice

I am a determined, obstinate creature!

This is what I did.

1. I made a ritual about the issue. I cast a circle and lined the circle with objects and pictures that represented my imaginary gang (Patti Smith, Kate Bush, Natasha Khan, Mary Oliver, and Hilary Mantel, in case you’re wondering!) I sat in the middle of the circle and told the ladies the story of what had happened—of how ill I was and how medicalised my body had become and how sad and lost and frightened I felt about it all. I stated my intention to the gang: to reclaim my physical, animal self—to relearn how to experience my physical self as more than a selection of medical problems; to treat my physical self as more than a medical problem. I listed some of the ways I could view and experience my body that were not about it being a broken medical object. I made a commitment to myself and to the gang to weave this practice into my daily life, and then to show that I was serious about the commitment, I acted on it in the ritual by putting on lots of temporary tattoos and jewellery—treating my body as something to be adorned and celebrated rather than just medicalised. I finished by having a little feast, thanking the gang, and closing the circle.

For me, a ritual like this acts as a clarifying lens and also as a crucible in which to form new behavioural habits. And I use the memory of the ritual as a support when I’m trying to act on my commitment day in, day out, and maybe struggling.

2. I put myself on an attention training programme. By that I mean that following the ritual, every time I noticed that I was focussed/fixated/ruminating on a symptom or some other aspect of my body-as-a-medical-object I would ask myself two questions:

Is there any reason why continuing to focus narrowly on this medical issue/body part right now is going to be helpful? (It was rarely helpful). I would then wish the body part well and would shift to the second question:

In addition to this medical issue/struggling body part, what else is my body right now? I’d make myself broaden out my attention to include the whole of my body (including but not limited to the body part or symptom I’d been fixating on), to be able to respond to this question based on direct, sensory experience: This is a body that’s wearing yellow socks with puffins on them. This is a body that’s feeling the breeze coming in through that open window and enjoying the sensation. This is a body that smells of pears from my favourite shower gel. This is a body that’s tired. This is a body that’s feeling hungry. This is a body that feels restless. This is a body that's listening to Chaka Khan and has an urge to dance.

Over the last year I have intentionally, thousands of times, acknowledged my body’s struggles and symptoms and then I've widened the field of my attention to notice what else my body is, what else it can experience, what else it means to me, what it is as a whole. I have trained myself, one tiny practice at a time, to reconnect with a wider, fatter, richer sense of what my body is, of who I am as an embodied creature. Of course, my attention is still pulled to pain and nausea and symptom-focussed worry etc. but I don’t get caught up in those things for as long as I used to, and I notice the non-medical stuff quicker and more frequently than I did.

3. As per the commitment I made in the ritual, I have begun (again) to treat my body as more than just a collection of medical problems that need treatment. Specifically, I have worked on changing my role/behaviour towards my body from that of merely nurse/physio. For me this has included (at different times) adorning it with temporary tattoos that make me smile, feeding it foods it really likes, wearing perfume, wearing clothes in colours I love, singing round the house, massaging my hands and feet, seeking more cuddles etc. from my husband, dancing when I feel able to, and really importantly to me, starting to have massages every six weeks or so that are utterly non-medical in nature. I still have to give myself injections and book blood tests and make myself have naps etc. but that’s not all I do in relation to my body now.

Given that my health conditions are going to be around for the rest of my life, I think these practices will also need to be around for the rest of my life, or at least for as long as I find them helpful.

This is already very long so I’m going to stop here, but I’m very happy to answer any questions about any of it - if anyone gets to the end and it's of interest :-)

#personal

[animefeminist]

My Fave Is Problematic: Stop!! Hibari-Kun!

Content Warning: racism/racial caricatures (including example screenshot), sexual harassment, transphobia, sexualization of minors

Stop!! Hibari-Kun!’s titular character is, for me, one of the best representations of a trans woman in media—made all the more shocking by the fact that it was made in the 1980s, a time when the concept of trans women was even more deeply misunderstood than it is now. 

However, with that decade came many problematic aspects, such as casual transphobia, racism, and uncomfortable sexuality. The dichotomy of Hibari as both a progressive trans narrative and an ignorant product of its time showcases Japan’s complicated relationship with trans women and other marginalized groups. As a non-binary person myself, I certainly found a lot of fun and gender envy from Stop!! Hibari-kun. I discovered it two years ago, coincidentally around the time I was coming to terms with my own identity. The confidence with which she displays her femininity is something I’ve always admired. This ironically makes it all the harder to recommend, because Stop!! Hibari-kun also has aspects that I was incredibly uncomfortable with despite its great qualities.

Read it at Anime Feminist!

#stop hibari kun #hibari oozora #eguchi hisashi #classic manga #transgender #articles

[paddysnuffles]

Why was Oceangate visiting the Titanic an issue but visiting other disaster sites isn't?: Thoughts from a Titanic nerd

Alright, as someone who’s had a special interest on the Titanic for well over 20 years, here’s my take on the Oceangate incident.

Part of why it took me so long to say something was that I felt the need to think about why the idea of the “expedition” enraged me so much. It’s not like we don’t visit disaster sites as tourists regularly. Take Pompeii and Herculaneum, for instance – as disastrous as it gets, yet no one would argue that it’s tasteless to visit those sites. So could it be just a matter of how much time has passed?

That may be an aspect of it, but there are plenty of modern disasters that we visit, such as the Frank Slide site not too far from where I live. Half a town was buried alive in 1903, with most of the victims still being under the rubble to this day. But there’s a visitor’s centre where you can see the slide site from the windows and learn about the event. 

So what gives? Why was the Oceangate trip so enraging?

And here’s the conclusion I’ve come to:

In the case of Pompeii and Herculaneum, we visit the sites of disasters that affected everyone – rich and poor, slave and master, animals and humans. And we do so to learn about the past, to see what life was like over 1,000 years ago. Because, like it or not, those sites are pristine windows into the past.

In the case of Frank Slide, we visit to learn from the mistakes of the past (the local Indigenous folk had vehemently warned white people to not build so close to Turtle Mountain, as it had a history of “moving” and white people said they were just being superstitious) as well as to remember the stories of the people who died (most of which were poor working families of miners).

Then there’s the Titanic.

Proper expeditions for study and retrieval fit into the same categories as the disasters mentioned above. When a disaster site is being disturbed in order to learn about what happened and to uncover more about the stories of the people lost in the event, disturbing the site is acceptable. It’s necessary and done with a sobering level of respect; that this isn’t about gawking at a gravesite. Note that the descendants of Titanic victims don’t typically have a problem with exploration of the site done for educational purposes, but they did have an issue with turning the site into a tourist travel spot.

Another aspect to why the Oceangate tourism trip was problematic and that breaks from the categories listed above is that the trip involved obscenely rich people going to gawk at what is primarily the resting place of thousands of poor people. Most of the Titanic survivors were rich, because the poor were kept locked in their areas while the rich were escorted to safety in half-full boats when there already weren’t enough boats to go around (more on that in a minute). If the “expedition” were for everyday people to view the site then maaaaybe it’d be acceptable. But it wasn’t. 

It was a trip for the obscenely rich to gawk at the gravesite of poor people whose deaths were largely caused by rich people repeatedly ignoring safety precautions. From the fact that the Titanic didn’t have enough lifeboats as it was (largely because the company thought they messed with the ship’s aesthetic and made the deck look cluttered) to the lookouts not having enough binoculars because they lost one of them and no one thought to bring extra or ask a passenger to borrow theirs, to ignoring iceberg warnings and still going fast despite knowing it wasn’t safe to do so, and more.

So while I feel bad for the 19-year-old who didn’t want to go in the first place, I don’t feel sorry for the others. Not even the Titanic expert. Because by being a part of this trip he was condoning both the disrespect of the dead as well as condoning the behaviour of the CEO who mocked safety regulations. And as a Titanic expert, he should have been aware that lack of safety precautions were not only the primary reason the ship sank, but also the primary reason why naval safety regulations (such as ships being required to have at least enough lifeboats for everyone on board but ideally a couple extra as a buffer) were first set in place.

#oceangate #i'm just saying #titanic submarine #titanic wreck #titanic submersible #titanic disaster #billionaire #rich life #eat the rich #just some thoughts

[reclusivebookslug]

Bella Swan is Autistic: An Analysis

(Disclaimers: I enjoy Twilight in spite of its problematic elements, not because of them or in ignorance of them. There are as many different ways to be autistic as there are autistic people. Many allistic people will relate on some level to some aspects of the autistic experience; this does not make them autistic. This is all just my opinion, based on my experience as a late-diagnosed, low-support-needs autistic woman. I am aware this is not a brand-new original idea.)

I reread Twilight (I think for the first time since getting diagnosed 4 years ago) and I found a bunch of things I relate to Bella about. Below the cut is a list of some of her autism-related character traits with quotes for textual evidence. The links lead to articles explaining how these traits relate to autism. The list is ordered chronologically based on page number of the accompanied quotes. Page numbers are based on the paperback edition with ISBN-13: 9780316015844. A backslash in a quote signifies a paragraph break. I’ll update if I read any of the other books or rewatch the movies and anything new comes up.

Bella has trouble regulating her emotional expressions: she has to put conscious effort into how she presents herself

"I'd always been a bad liar" (p. 4). "For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency" (p. 25). "I had never been enormously tactful" (p. 31). "'My face is so easy to read -- my mother always calls me her open book'" (p. 50).

Bella is shy and a bit socially awkward: she avoids attention for fear of embarrassment

"Charlie wasn't comfortable with expressing his emotions out loud. I inherited that from him" (p. 7). "Mr. Varner... was the only one who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I stammered, blushed, and tripped over my own boots on the way to my seat" (p. 17). "To my dismay, I found myself the center of attention for the rest of the week" (pp. 68-69).

Bella feels different from other people: she doesn’t know how to connect with others and feels pressure to fit in

"I didn't relate well to people my age. Maybe the truth was that I didn't relate well to people, period. Even my mother, who I was closer to than anyone else on the planet, was never in harmony with me, never on exactly the same page. Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain" (pp. 10-11). "I answered honestly, instead of pretending to be normal like everyone else" (p. 47). “'My mind doesn't work right? I'm a freak?' The words bothered me more than they should -- probably because his speculation hit home. I'd always suspected as much, and it embarrassed me to have it confirmed" (p. 181).

Bella has a unique sense of humor: other people don’t get her jokes and she doesn’t get other peoples’ jokes

"'You don't look very tan.' / 'My mother is part albino.' / He studied my face apprehensively, and I sighed. It looked like clouds and a sense of humor didn't mix. A few months of this and I'd forget how to use sarcasm" (p. 16). “Bella was being unintentionally funny” (p. 367).

Bella finds comfort in routine: the change in routine from moving was difficult for her, and she felt better once the new routine became familiar

"I fell into the pattern of the familiar task gladly" (p. 33).

Bella is academically gifted: she finds assignments easier than her peers do, she has already read the books assigned in her English course

"'Were you in an advanced placement program in Phoenix?' / 'Yes'" (p. 47).

Bella enjoys being alone: she is introverted and enjoys solitary activities

"In a lot of ways, living with Charlie was like having my own place, and I found myself reveling in the aloneness instead of being lonely" (p. 54). "I've never minded being alone" (p. 241).

Bella has motor difficulties: she is clumsy, uncoordinated, accident-prone, and bad at sports

"Possibly my crippling clumsiness was seen as endearing rather than pathetic, casting me as a damsel in distress" (p. 55). "My sense of direction was hopeless; I could get lost in much less helpful surroundings" (p. 136).

Bella has special interests: Edward and books

"... no one else was as aware of Edward as I always was. No one else watched him the way I did" (p. 69). "I was sitting in my room, researching vampires. What was wrong with me" (p. 135)? "... they didn't know how preoccupied I could get when surrounded by books; it was something that I preferred to do alone" (p. 156).

Bella is perceived as different by others: a history of social exclusion is hinted at, Edward’s mind-reading doesn’t work on her

"'It's better if we're not friends,' he explained. 'Trust me.' / My eyes narrowed. I'd heard that before” (pp. 74-75). "He enunciated every syllable, as if he were talking to someone mentally handicapped" (p. 83). "'My mom always says I was born thirty-five years old and that I get more middle-aged every year'" (p. 106). ".'.. maybe your mind doesn't work the same way the rest of theirs do. Like your thoughts are on the AM frequency and I'm only getting FM'” (p. 181). "'You're not like anyone I've ever known. ... / ... 'I have a better than average grasp of human nature. People are predictable. But you ... you never do what I expect. You always take me by surprise'" (p. 245).

Bella has sensory differences: she notices and is bothered by things others don’t and aren’t, she engages in sensory-seeking and sensory-avoiding behavior when stressed

"'People can't smell blood,' he contradicted. / 'Well, I can -- that's what makes me sick. It smells like rust ... and salt" (p. 100). "I put in my headphones, hit Play, and turned up the volume until it hurt my ears. I closed my eyes, but the light still intruded, so I added a pillow over the top of my face" (pp. 129-130). "'You're always crabbier when your eyes are black ... I expect it then' ... 'I have a theory about that'" (p. 171). “For three and a half hours I stared at the wall, curled in a ball, rocking” (p. 425).

#twilight #the twilight saga #isabella swan #bella swan #stephenie meyer #autism #neurodivergent #masking #masked autistic #autistic headcanon #autistic hc #twilight headcanon #twilight hc #autistic bella swan #bella swan is autistic #autistic bella swan headcanon #twilight fan theory #feel free to add on #feel free to reblog #autistic characters #special interest infodump #projecting #twilight renaissance #twilight bella

[kaqura]

I apologise for asking this if it isn't something you want to talk about but do you know why there is so much hatred for Kagura from so many S*ssr*n shippers/HnY fans? I haven't seen HnY because I don't like sequels that take away the happy ending of the original so I only know a few spoilers through the grapevine, but the Kagura hate I've seen lately from some HnY fans reminds me of anti-Kikyou Inukag shippers from twenty years ago. But Inukag shippers are more supportive of Kikyou nowadays and fandom in general is less misogynistic than it used to be, so I don't understand why another woman being important to Sesshoumaru in the original Inuyasha series is so unacceptable that Kagura gets hate now. Even if people ship S*ssr*n, love isn't a finite resource? Sesshoumaru loving and wanting to avenge Kagura doesn't mean he can't love anyone else, it doesn't diminish his other relationships—especially because Rin was a literal eight-year-old child when Kagura was alive. It's not like Kagura was a yandere type who harmed Sesshoumaru or anyone else he cared about, either, after a while Rin knew she had nothing to fear from Kagura and was squee'ing about Kagura being in love with Sesshoumaru.

Again, I apologise for how long this question was and sending it on Anon, I just didn't want to get hate from S*ssr*n shippers or HnY fans. Kagura's my favourite Inuyasha character, so it made me sad to browse the Inuyasha reddit/tumblr and see people calling her a 'manipulative bitch' and such when I went looking for fanart and fic about her. It's especially strange coming from people who praise other former villain characters like Sesshoumaru, who did worse things than Kagura when he was evil.

hello buddy sorry this is late i literally did not see it??

but since i'm obviously on the opposite end of the spectrum in this situation & have only really been involved in the tumblr iy fandom for so many years, the only thing i know about any of that drama is that she's perceived as a threat to their yucky ship bc she was really the canon love interest for sesshomaru in the og series. and kagura is obviously the polar opposite of rin in literally every aspect. like, we have a demoness that was born from the body of the main villain who comes out the gate swinging on koga's entire family & is forced to beef with the whole inugang constantly and calls sesshomaru a bitch to his face the second time they meet. versus a cute lil baby who's a complete blank slate. so for people that don't care for her bc of their ship bias it's pretty easy to misinterpret her character & motivations and draw silly conclusions lmao. i'm not gonna say kagura isn't problematic in some ways but LITERALLY WHO CARES it's not that serious?? pretty much everyone in IY has done morally questionable shit. it's a fairy tale set in feudal japan, like. and it sucks that you're coming across negative bs when you're just trying to enjoy yourself in this fandom!! that happened to me too when i first got back into iy in 2020 bc i didn't know that kagura was like severely hated until i joined an iy group on fb (owned by you-know-who, unbeknownst to me) and saw all that weird shit lmao. but there's a lot of really great creators on tumblr, at least, that are anti-sr & pro-kagura, so i hope that you could at least enjoy yourself on this blog!! <3

#i dont even want this showing up in the tags bc i dont have time for weirdo sr's in my inbox fksjfkdl #OH WELL #anti sessrin #hny #ask #anti shit #iy #*

[dailyadventureprompts]

Can we get a reimagining for golems pleas? They’re somewhat problematic in their current portrayal when you consider the mythological origins

Monsters Reimagined: Golems

For those not in the know, there was a discourse a little while ago about how golems and how their use in pop fantasy diverged from their origins as a part of Jewish folklore. While there’s different arguments to be made about whether you should use creatures from the folklore of other cultures (verging onto appropriation) most of the discussion I saw revolved around the fact that golems in d&d (and the fantasy genre that imitated it) bear little resemblance to their mythological roots, flattening a creature with rich cultural connections into just another brainless monster to be flattened by adventurers.

That said, humans have been imagining stories about artificial people for as long as we’ve been building things with our own hands, and just because we don’t use the name “golem” doesn’t mean we have to abandon the concept entirely.  TLDR:  While you could just default to calling them “constructs” as many have, I like to use the term “Malgam” for my artificially constructed servitor monsters. Not only does it relate to their nature as an amalgamation of particular elements, it also has the same mouthfeel as the original monster. This also lets you use “golem” in the specific context for the creature it was intended: An artificial creature given life through the working of holy scholars, in imitation of the way that the creator gave life to them.

There have always been stories of artificial beings: and in many ways the origin myths of most cultures have humans crafted by the gods out of something inanimate, which could theoretically classify all humans as something given form by the hands of another.

As someone with a childhood fascination with both robots and greek mythology, it blew my mind that accounts of the god Hephaestus had him assisted by mechanical beings. Despite the fact that the ancient greeks were living in the bronze age, they still had enough of an understanding of machinery to think “ yep, get good enough at this sorta thing and you could make people”

Golems are part of this tradition, but take on a particularly religious aspect in that it’s animation echoes gods own creation of humans, imperfect as all mortal attempts must be in comparison with their creator. Many golem myths likewise get into power hierarchies, as those golems that were not built for defence are often built to perform labour for their creators, growing rebellious and subverting the divine hierarchy

Logically then, if we’re going to write adventures ABOUT golems, we should do so through the examination of the creator gods, worshippers, and the things they both make, as well as how the relationships between them can reveal about our philosophy as an audience:

Through careful study of the teachings of his creation goddess, a sage has created a golem to act as his apprentice, seeking a blank and willing vessel to fill up with the purest form of her faith and knowledge without all the base humanity getting in the way. The golem turns out to be a prodigy, but over years of instruction the sage comes to care for them as one might a child, believing them to be just as ensouled as a person. The golem, pious to a fault, knows that it would be blasphamy for their instructor to claim powers equal to that of the goddess and denies the claim, causing a rift to form between them. Now the two wander the great temples and libraries of the land, searching for the proof that will

Brought to life by a miracle of Moradin, a tremendously strong golem has guarded a particular village for generations, dispatching monsters and raiders, throwing itself into danger to rescue those who dwell within the town, drawn to where it can help best by a divinely gifted sixth sense. The party just so happen to be in town when it rises from it’s traditional seat of honor before the steps of the village temple, takes seven long strides, and brings its fist down on a stupefied merchant, who’d just arrived in town. The townsfolk are divided, did their protector go mad, or did its orders to kill come directly from the allhammer himself? The merchants travelling companions are demanding retribution, while the golem returns to its seat and merely shrugs. Its role is not to question what it does, only to protect the village when it is called to do so.

on the trail of a diabolist who’s tortured priests and robbed monasteries, the party has finally realized that their foe intends to scorn the gods by creating a more perfect form of being than they ever could, and has been extracting the secrets of lifeweaving over many bloody years. Catching up to the villain in his lair, the party is aghast to discover that he has succeeded: using foul magic to birth a “perfect” specimen who quickly concluded that her creator was unfit for his position of power over her and tore him limb from limb. Now the party is faced with a very different sort of challenge: a superhuman entity who wishes to understand her place in the world but who has yet to be taught any reason why she should care about other beings beyond their usefulness to her.  

Refocusing goelms in this way as a type of construct rather than the brand-name for lumbering animated statues lets us pay proper respect to their folkloric roots, while also giving us a new tool in our narrative toolbox in order to tell more diverse and insightful stories.

Art

#monsters reimagined #golem #construct #Religion #history #Cleric #diplomacy #random encounter #mystery #villain #mid level

[copperbadge]

Hi! I hope this isn't too out of left field, but you're one of the fandom creators I've followed the longest (since SGA's heyday,) and one whose work I really enjoy/respect. It seems like fandom as community is kind of... dying? In favour of cash/influence motivated content creation? Do you have any tips on how to contribute to/preserve the community aspects (aside from the brigades/crusades against "insert problematic content here" that seems to band ppl together) of fandom? So much of it seems to just be throwing comments into the ether, and I'm not sure how to contribute.

I've been thinking about this ask for a while, but I don't think I'm any further along towards giving a good answer now than I was a week ago when you sent it.

There are so many aspects to answering this -- not just answering it but answering it as me. I will always be of fandom; I've spent roughly thirty of my forty-three years in fandom. But I haven't had a single specific fandom for a couple of years now. The last time I posted any fanfic of meaningful length was 2020; I've done shortfics since, but mainly for fundraisers and to prompts, and in the meantime worked on my own stuff. Generally, between about fourteen and thirty, I would find a specific canon, write for it for about two years, and then move on to a new canon. Marvel was an exception in that I think I was in it for about eight years, roughly 2012-2020; Good Omens was too in that I left the fandom and came back to it, something I've never done, but even then I wrote a couple of fics in 2020 and not really anything since.

Additionally, I'm, you know, here on Tumblr, I'm not really anywhere else. Fandom is so massive and our experience of it so subjective that it's difficult to say "where" fandom is; it was on livejournal and moved to tumblr but I think realistically since that move it has fractured significantly, to the point where it is spread across tumblr, twitter, tiktok, discord, and dreamwidth. I am on one of those. :D And nobody really knows what percentage of fandom is where. It goes back to the problem of how to define fandom and how to track a generally self-reporting, semi-closed community.

There is, I think, a growing movement to monetize hobbies in general, and separate from that to Create Content rather than just Post Shit. And social media platforms, for the most part, are designed to push specific content, so those capable of "gaming" the algorithm tend to rise to the top and be most visible, and that's a very homogenized set of data, generally speaking. It is the new Mainstream Culture.

But there are two problems with this new mainstream culture: first, it's insanely fragmented compared to ten or twenty years ago. It is possible to put your content out in front of literal millions of people on YouTube and still not be a cultural phenomenon in the way that a TV show with the same viewership would have been on network television in the 1990s, because you're just one of a million options. I knew who all six Friends were even when I didn't watch Friends, but I don't know who the top influencers on YouTube are, because there's like thirty thousand of them and they're all super niche and none of them appeal to my interests, and unlike in the 1990s when I had five TV channels, I have all of the internet I can look at instead.

I say this is a problem, but in many respects it's not -- at least it means alternate viewpoints that don't need to care about network executives or ad revenue are getting out there....somewhere. It's merely a problem in that we can no longer really establish a firm idea of where we are, culturally.

The second problem is more germane to us: fandom has always been a counterculture. Fandom is tightly engaged with disrupting the narrative of dominant culture, with telling the stories that dominant culture won't using the products of that culture to do so. Most countercultures eventually either die out or become mainstream, but fandom has proved slippery in that sense because it is always in reaction to established culture. When part of fandom becomes mainstream, the rest shrugs and moves on. The first time we've really seen that shift is in the monetization of things like gaming and nerd culture, which is a pretty recent phenomenon.

But I don't know what the extent is. I would imagine these days it's harder to find the real weird gritty countercultural stuff, because the "friendly" neutered nerd content gets pushed to the top, but I feel like once you've got an in, you can find the rest of it. So I don't know if it's that fandom is dying, it's just being split into two halves: the very visible dominant-culture-friendly stuff and the less marketable and thus harder-to-find countercultural stuff. And in any case I'm not super qualified to talk about that split because I don't honestly see it that often. I know it's there, but I'm at a remove from it because of my particular status in fandom as a long-term, well-known fan with a relatively large following. (Relative to the norm. Relative to like, anyone on tiktok, I'm nobody.) So my vision of fandom is eternally skewed by the fact that I'm the Spiders Georg of fandom.

So I don't really have any answers because I don't even properly have my arms around the problem. I'm not sure anyone does, or knows the size or severity of it, whether it's a non-issue or a major one. I'm not sure anyone can. Fandom is huge and weird and invisible and hard to predict. And that's okay; part of what makes us fandom is our ability to adapt and integrate and make things our own, so we just...keep doing that in the best way we're able, I think, and trust the rest will figure itself out and present itself to us as either a fun new opportunity or a problem to be solved.

#fandom

[msmargaretmurry]

2 and 44 for book meme, and if those have been asked/answered, dealer's choice!

2. Favorite fantasy book(s).

a wrinkle in time obviously!! as previously mentioned for this meme, robin hobb's farseer books (the first trilogy is my most favorite, but i also have a lot of love for the bingtown traders trilogy and the second fitz trilogy; although here i must admit i haven't read the last 7 books in the series because i fell off the reading wagon in general after the third trilogy). lynn flewelling's nightrunner series. loved the raven cycle, loved six of crows/crooked kingdom (enjoyed the other books in that universe too but the crows books were the best). the radiant emperor duology is a recent entry into the faves list.

44. The book(s) whose stories have become part of your very makeup.

a wrinkle in time obviously!!!! and, again, the farseer books. recently maggie read the farseer books at my behest and was like "wow i understand so much about you as a person now." the giver. plenty of girl-centered classics: anne of green gables; little women; the little house on the prairie books because my mom read them all to my sister and me as kids although i do acknowledge their very problematic aspects as an adult. from the mixed-up files of mrs. basil e. frankweiler was formative to young me, as was running out of time by margaret peterson haddix. animorphs got me into trauma and found family early. i only read the left hand of darkness for the first time a couple years ago but it did change me as a person.

#ask #reading meme

[blindmagdalena]

Eat Your Ego, Honey ( Ch 1 )

Homelander x original female character

Notes: 18+ escort services, sex work, masturbation, voyeurism, stalking, Homelander in general. problematic. see ao3 link for detailed tags. chapter index. check out the playlist!

summary: Layla is an escort who specializes in the marriage of sex and emotional intimacy. In an effort to protect herself in an inherently hazardous industry, she enforces a strict ‘No Supes’ policy. Homelander doesn't take no for an answer, and insists that she take him on as a client. She's quickly caught up in the maelstrom of his life, forcing them both to confront a feelings of obsession, danger, love, trauma, sex, and how the entanglement of all of those things have shaped their lives.

“I’ve been booked by The Homelander? ”

Layla’s voice is incredulous while her assistant, Holly, has an apprehensive kind of look to her, a thick paper folder held up between her two hands, clutched over her chest. Holly has always been a nervous looking woman, but today she looks particularly high strung, her shoulders drawn up tighter than the bun atop her head. 

“Yes, ma’am, and he comes with… a whole host of NDA’s,” Holly says, gesturing to Layla with the envelope in her hands for emphasis.

Layla exhales a mirthless little laugh born of disbelief. She takes a moment to process before she reaches out to grab hold of the folder from her assistant, setting it down on her desk to flip through. It’s standard enough legal jargon, assurance that she won’t so much as hint towards any involvement with Vought’s golden son to anyone, but that’s not the part that’s bothering her.

“I don’t work with supes,” Layla reminds her, though gauging by Holly’s expression, she doesn’t need it. They both know that. It’s been a sticking point in her line of work ever since she started six years ago.

“I know, but he was persistent, and… He booked domestic,” Holly says, wringing her hands slightly.

“Domestic?” Layla echoes, irritation giving way to contemplation. Homelander had been all over the news not long ago, denouncing the actions of his former girlfriend, only for her abrupt death to outshine his countless damage control interviews. Her brows furrow. Domestic is precisely what one might expect; cuddling, familiarity, casual intimacy, but no sex. Some clients request that she cooks for them. Sometimes there is a roleplay aspect. They want her to be their wife, or their mother. More often than not, she ends up feeling more like a therapist than an escort during these sessions. 

Grief comes in all shapes. Layla’s seen it in spades in her line of work. Companionship and intimacy at top dollar. Homelander lost his girlfriend not long ago, and regardless of what the situation between them was, whether he actually knew the truth about her or not, he’s clearly more affected than Vought wants to let on.

“That’s what the paperwork says,” Holly answers after a beat, snapping Layla from her thoughts. “I swear, I tried to recommend him to someone else, but his representative was insistent that he wouldn’t see anyone else. Apparently he’s heard of you.”

Absently, Layla begins to chew her bottom lip. She doesn't advertise that she doesn't work with supes, but she generally doesn't need to. She has enough associates to pass them off, so turning them down was rarely an issue, and if it was, they would be flat out refused… but it’s never been such a high profile figure. 

Snubbing someone like him could be bad for business. While Layla has never been formally introduced to the Homelander, she has been in proximity to him at Vought sponsored events, including one less than a week ago. Running into him with bad blood between them sounds… troublesome, to say the least.

“Okay,” she says, forming her game plan as she speaks.

“Okay?” Holly echoes, her trepidation turning immediately to surprise.

“Okay,” Layla confirms. The two of them engage in a mutually incredulous staring contest, neither quite believing the confirmation. To show her precisely how serious she is, Layla walks around her desk, takes a seat, and begins signing the forms.

“You… want me to confirm the booking, then?” Holly asks, holding her hand out as Layla begins shuffling the documents back into a neat stack, handing the folder back to her assistant.

“Yes, go ahead and confirm the booking. First timer stipulations apply,” Layla tells her, taking in a breath as she squares her shoulders. As a first timer, it would be a highly controlled session in her office, as opposed to a more homely setting. She rents a variety of houses and apartments for more elaborate sessions with familiar clients, but Homelander is what she would consider ‘high risk.’  ”It’s one session. What could go wrong?”

Homelander arrives late for his session.

Layla’s been waiting nearly half an hour, seated at her desk with a good book. Frankly, it’s no skin off her back. Her time is already paid for, and she won’t be spending a moment longer than what’s been agreed upon. He can arrive five minutes to the end of his allotted time if he likes; he’ll get five minutes, and not a second more. Just in case, however, she’s left the remainder of her day clear. Heaven forbid something does go terribly wrong.

The office their session is to take place in is sectioned off into three distinct areas, though the floorplan is fully open. Her ‘office’ is to the south, directly across from the entrance on the northern wall, while the ‘living room’ aesthetic and the ‘bedroom’ aesthetic sit on the east and west walls, respectively. The only separated space is the bathroom. This suite also fully utilizes security cameras. It’s ideal for setting her clients up for a proper session while still prioritizing her safety and comfort.

When the door across the way swings open, Layla looks up from her book, peering over the lenses of her reading glasses. Homelander stands tall in the open doorway, his eyes drifting lazily about the room for a good while before landing on her. His flat expression shifts to a smile that somehow feels even less pleasant than the neutral line that had come before it.

“I was beginning to worry you’d lost your way,” Layla says as she stands, sliding off her glasses. She sets her glasses atop her book, which she leaves splayed open, keeping her page.

“Nope. Busy day,” he answers, closing the door behind him. He doesn’t take her eyes off her as he does it. He approaches her slowly, hands on his hips. “Saving people. Hero business. Dangerous world out there, you know.”

Layla’s expression remains patient. Her painted red lips curl slightly in a smile of understanding. “It’s no problem. I’m glad you made it. My name is Layla,” she says, walking around her desk in order to meet him halfway. She offers her hand out to him, but Homelander makes no move to take it. Instead, he’s staring at her, his head cocked slightly. He clicks his tongue, and takes a small half breath.

“I thought you’d be blonde,” he confesses

Unaffected, Layla inclines her head slightly, dropping her hand. She’s certain that he knew she wasn’t. “I am not.”

“Ch’yeah, clearly,” he says from the corner of his mouth. His gaze drifts down from her chestnut brown hair to her eyes, to her painted red lips, to her clean white button-up blouse. She takes note of the way his gaze lingers at her chest for just a split second before he looks down to her pants. He quirks a brow, bringing his eyes back up to hers. “Kind of a masculine outfit, don’t you think?”

“Would you wear it?” She asks, lifting both her brows.

The smug line of his mouth falters at that. “No.”

“Then it can’t be that masculine,” Layla dismisses, her smile fully intact.

“You’re older than I thought you’d be, too,” he says, his tone now adopting a level of derision.

“Is that going to be a problem for you?” She asks, unbothered. She understands too well what he’s trying to do for it to get under her skin. There is a power imbalance between them, and he’s trying to knock her off kilter. He made her wait, showing her that he values his time much higher than hers, and now he’s trying to make her feel less-than. It’s a tactic she has experienced countless times in her profession. It never works.

Homelander scoffs, lips pulled into a lopsided smile that’s halfway to a sneer. He looks away from her, and then back to her, the corners of his mouth twitching with what looks to be a dozen things he almost says. Instead of answering her, he resumes inspecting her office. He turns away from her, locking his hands behind his back, beneath his star-spangled cape. Only when his back is turned does Layla let herself roll her eyes in a brief upward flick. Otherwise, she keeps her body language open and welcoming.

“You didn’t fill out the session form,” Layla says, pivoting to keep an eye on him. Like a shark, he’s circling her while he investigates her office. He pauses to lean over her desk, where she has left her book splayed open. She can see him run his tongue along his upper teeth in his mouth as he casually moves her glasses aside, and begins turning pages.

“Yeah, no. Didn’t see the point,” he answers, and to her bemusement, he does seem to be actually reading the pages as he turns them with surprising speed. The book is a science fiction story, initially grounded in reality and focused on the exploration of space, and the complex politics thereof. He eventually wrinkles his nose, and closes the book. He continues to explore.

So much for keeping her place.

“Bunch’a useless crap. Didn’t think you’d need all that to do your job,” he says, taking a lingering look at the ‘living room’ section of her suite before returning his attention to her.

“And what exactly do you think my job is?” Layla asks, stepping back to take a seat on the edge of her desk.

“You’re a whore,” Homelander responds nonchalantly. The word falls easily from his lips, which quirk minutely at the corners. He likes calling her that, she can immediately tell. She can see the power trip in his eyes, the need to put her below him. As it turns out, The Homelander is a man like any other. Power is a poison, and he is thoroughly intoxicated.

“But you didn’t pay for a whore today. You paid for a companion,” she counters, leaning back with her hands on her desk. For a split second, he looks frustrated, but he’s quick to conceal it. He clearly wants a rise out of her. He’s not going to get it. “Domesticity, to be specific.”

Homelander’s lips are pulled into a thin line. His eyes are half-lidded, unamused. He closes the distance between them with long, purposeful strides, stopping only when there’s a foot between them. With her halfway seated on her desk, he seems taller than he really is, looming over her with clear intent in his icy stare. “What’s paid for is your time . I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.”

“So tell me what–”

It happens in a flash. The words die on Layla’s tongue, her breath cut short by a leather-clad hand wrapping around her throat. He’s baring his teeth, his face mere inches from hers. “Do you ever shut the fuck up?” He hisses. She can hear the way he’s gritting his teeth together. His hand is firm around her throat, but he isn’t choking her. She’s able to take in a slow breath, unimpeded. “You think you’re so fucking smart. You think you’re better than me?” He pushes, flexing his hold.

Layla holds his gaze. She remains still, waiting to see if this flare will pass. While it’s true that she does not work with Supes for her own safety, anyone would be naive to think that a man had never threatened or acted violently with her. They were just as capable of killing her as a Supe. The primary difference is that most human men aren’t easily capable of accidentally maiming or killing her.

Homelander’s eyes flicker impatiently between hers, to her lips, then back up. He scoffs, lips twisted in an unkind smile. “What’s the matter, Lalya? Cat got your tongue suddenly?”

Layla stays quiet. Homelander’s expression falters, wavering between arrogance, confusion, and irritation. “Your heart should be pounding,” he tells her, voice low. They can both feel it. Her pulse is a little elevated, but steady. She doesn’t scare that easily. “You think I won’t snap your goddamn neck?”

Gently, Layla lifts a hand to his gloved forearm, resting her palm atop it. She strokes slowly, and with her other hand, begins to pry his fingers away one by one. Surprisingly, he allows it, though his stare remains intense, like an agitated wild animal. Maintaining eye contact, she lowers his hand to her lap, and continues to stroke soothing lines down his forearm, leaving her other hand in his. “Please don’t do that,” she says at last. Her tone is placating, but firm. He looks thoroughly caught off guard by her polite response. His eyes drop to where she’s holding his hand. His expression shifts rapidly between several states, brows pinching, and then relaxing. The corners of his mouth rise, and then fall flat.

“I know how powerful you are, and so do you. You knew precisely how much strength to use to hold me without hurting me,” she says. He’s still fixated on his hand in her lap, on the way she’s holding his fingers, lightly massaging her thumb into his palm. She knows that her touches are having an impact because when he does look back up, his expression is no longer tight with paranoia and mistrust. His lips are slightly pursed, but his eyes have softened. He looks surprisingly boyish.

“From the moment you walked in the door, you held the power. I’m here for you. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” she continues, speaking evenly. He’s receptive to that, his squared shoulders relaxing slightly, though he’s still tense. A moment of silence passes. He’s switched to watching the way her hand moves on his forearm, slow back and forth sweeps. It isn’t much through the thick layers of his glove and his suit, but the motion alone seems to have him transfixed. When he doesn’t appear to know where to go from here, Layla stays her hand on his wrist. “Would you like to sit with me on the couch?”

Looking up at her, Homelander hesitates briefly before he nods. She smiles at that, and eases him back enough so that she can stand. The shift in his demeanor is surprising, but nothing Layla hasn’t been faced with before. It’s often the men who are most desperate to assert their dominance that need services like hers the most. Layla laces their fingers together and walks him to the couch. She looks back at him, but he’s too busy staring down at where she’s holding his hand. Layla sits down first, slipping her hand out of his. He flexes his hand once hers leaves it, and meets her gaze. With a patient smile, she pats the seat next to her. “Come,” she says, voice soft. “Sit with me.”

Apparently, Layla has successfully tripped a switch in Homelander’s brain. He moves his arm behind him to hook his cape, guiding it out of the way, as not to sit on it. His hands move instinctively to rest on his thighs, and his posture is rigid. He doesn’t look nervous, but he does look perplexed, uncertain of what comes next. So far, nothing has gone as he’d anticipated. “Is it alright if I touch you?” She asks, currently mirroring his own position, hands in her lap. His lips are set in a tight purse, brows pinched, but he nods again. She starts moving her hand through his hair, as if tucking it behind his ear. She follows that line to the back of his head, where she gently scrapes her nails along his scalp. He’s watching her closely from the corner of his eye. She hums approvingly.

“Soft,” she appreciates, her smile widening slightly as she enjoys his hair. He still looks thoroughly at a loss. As time goes on, however, he begins to relax, sinking back into the chair bit by bit. His hands have gone from coiled fists to resting flat on his thighs. When she hears him sigh, his eyes falling shut, she decides to move forward. “You can rest against me if you like,” she offers. He opens his eyes and turns his head properly to look at her then, glancing down at her chest, then her lap, before back to her eyes. He shifts a little, but looks uncertain of how to proceed, so she offers her hands. “I can show you my favorite position.”

“‘Kay,” he says simply, his first word since the outburst. Taking the lead, Layla picks up his furthest hand, and brings it across her waist. She does the same with the other, putting it behind her, so that his arms are around her middle. With her arm over his shoulder, she cups the back of his head and brings him in to rest his head in the crook of her neck. “That’s it. Good,” she coos, relaxing back against the couch. His arm is pressed to the couch by the small of her back, and he’s shifting himself more to the side, halfway laying down against her. They manage to get comfortable, despite the gaudy eagle pauldrons on his shoulders. He’s terribly stiff at first, but as she cards her fingers through his hair, he begins to relax against her, gradually filling the spaces between their bodies.

Homelander adjusts his hold suddenly, wrapping his arms more tightly around her, pulling her against his chest. She tilts her head to allow it when he nuzzles in closer against her neck, inhaling deep before exhaling a warm, content sigh across her neck. He holds onto her as though she may disappear at any moment, one hand on her waist, the other cupped at her ribcage. Based on what she’s read of Homelander since he booked her, she can understand why.  According to her research, he had lost both of his parents when he was fairly young. Members of The Seven came and went, with Translucent most recently passing. He’d also allegedly been fairly close to his manager at Vought, Madelyn Stillwell, who perished not long ago. Shortly after that, Stormfront. It seems that Homelander has a difficult time keeping people in his life.

Testing the waters, Layla hums the beginnings of a melody. Quiet, like a lullaby, to fill the silence around them. If Homelander minds, he doesn’t voice it. However, when she pauses her hand in his hair, he does give a low grunt. Satisfied that he’s enjoying both, she resumes petting through his blonde locks, humming soft tunes all the while. Eventually, however, a single beep of her watch informs her that they have reached the final five minutes of their session. Layla stops humming at that. She moves her hand from his hair to his shoulder, just shy of the gold eagle, and gives him a gentle squeeze. “It’s almost time to go,” she tells him gently, stroking with her thumb. She can already feel tension creeping back into his muscles.

"No," he says flatly. She can feel him speak the word against her neck. "I’ll pay." “It isn’t about the money,” she replies, maintaining her soothing tone. “It’s about our agreement. If we’re going to establish a working relationship, we need to trust each other.” At that, Homelander lifts his head from her neck. His hair is thoroughly mussed, but his eyes have already lost whatever contentment might have existed in them while they were snuggling. “Relationship,” he echoes, as if testing the word on his tongue. His jaw flexes. She can see him weighing his options as he looks down at her, arms still vice-like around her. “Are you seeing someone after me?” He asks, meeting her gaze.

“No,” Layla answers, though she takes a mental note of the question. Jealousy isn’t uncommon among her clients. It’s easy enough to work around. If they were to move forward, she would make sure Homelander was always her last for the day, lest he feel shuffled off for the sake of another man. Homelander confirms her suspicion when he relaxes slightly with her answer. “I want to see you again.”

“I would like that.” Layla shifts slightly in his grasp, and uses both hands to comb his hair back into place. He looks surprised by her response. “Really?” There is an unexpected earnestness to his voice. She has never before met a man with quite so sharp a divide between his different moods, but at least the shift is an endearing one. “Will you be on time?”

“Yes,” he answers readily. He leans closer to her. With the way he’s sitting upright now, he’s pulled her halfway into his lap. It’s effortless for him. Layla puts a hand on his chest, steadying him. “Okay, that’s good. When would you like to come back?” “Tomorrow.” Homelander’s voice is firm. His face is close enough to hers now that she can feel his breath on her lips. “Will you fill out the session form?” “Yes, yes, whatever, fine,” he says dismissively, a flash of impatient irritation. He huffs a breath, fixing her with an expectant look. “Tomorrow.”

Layla subtly bites her tongue. Her day is booked solid tomorrow, but she doesn’t want to lose the stability they’ve just barely managed to build. “Okay. Tomorrow at 6:00pm. ”It’s later than she would normally book, but she knows she won’t be finished her day before then, and she’ll need time between clients. She can tell by his expression that it wasn’t what he was hoping for, that he likely wanted to meet as early as they did today, but she’s pleasantly surprised when he does not argue.

Layla’s watch beeps three times, and Homelander looks down at it like it’s something vile. She moves her hands to his wrists, and just as she had before, works towards gently prying his grip around her waist loose. This time, however, he does not relent so easily. His hands stay perfectly put, without an ounce of give, but he does look a little amused by her efforts. “Homelander…” She addresses kindly, albeit sternly. “What’s the rush? You said there’s no one after me,” he says, lips curved in a mischievous little smile. He leans in and very nearly catches her in a kiss, but she manages to get her hand between them, her index finger pressed to his lips. His brows knit together and he looks up at her, another twinge of annoyance in his eyes.

“Like I said before, it’s about our arrangement. Trust. This relationship isn’t about what you can take from someone, Homelander,” she says, drawing her hand away. “It’s about what someone can give to you. Let me take care of you, okay?” That does the trick. Homelander’s expression softens, the curve of his brows revealing a hint of vulnerability before evening out. With only mild reluctance, he withdraws his arms from around her, and lets her stand up unimpeded. As a reward for his compliance, Layla leans down, and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek. “That was very good. Let me get you those forms,” she says, leaving him a little dumbstruck on the couch. She retrieves a copy of the documents from her desk, and gathers them neatly into a paperclip for him to take.

When Layla turns around, Homelander is already standing, his hands interlaced modestly in front of him. He still doesn’t seem pleased about having to leave, but he is at least compliant, and no longer insulting her. She walks to him, and offers out the forms, which he takes with something of a cynical quirk to his lips. “It would really help me if you’d fill those out.” “Yeah, yeah, I got it,” he assures her, lazily lifting a page before letting it fall back down. The bite is largely gone from his bark. The hand holding the forms drops to his side, and his other hand settles on his hip. Homelander fixes her with a lingering stare, head tipped back slightly. He looks to be processing everything that just happened. “So, tomorrow.” “Tomorrow,” Layla confirms, smiling. “6:00pm.”

“6:00pm,” he echoes, rocking on his heels a touch. “Oookie-dokie. Well, ah… I’ll see you then,” he says, bouncing his fingers off his forehead in a little salute that broadens Layla’s smile. Homelander leaves, and Layla is left in the surreal aftermath of his session. She all but collapses down into her office chair, kicking off her heels. Booking him again so immediately in her off hours had been an insanely impulsive move, but after the progress she made between his arrival and his departure, she felt compelled to. Layla absently touches her neck, pressing her fingers precisely where his had been. She squeezes harder than he did. No tenderness, or signs of bruising. It had been purely for show. Layla chews her lip absently for a moment before focusing herself, picking up her cellphone to inform Holly of the development.

On the other side of the door, Homelander watches her for a few minutes, his vision easily penetrating the wood. His lips are parted, the corner of his mouth twitching in an almost-smile.

For the next several hours, Homelander is consumed with nothing but thoughts of his session with Layla. Who the fuck does she think she is? She had been insufferably calm throughout their time together. She was imperturbable, despite his needling, despite his outburst. She had been… Patient.

The melody she hummed as he embraced her repeats in his head over and over like some sick carnival loop. He remembers the way her finger had felt against his lips. More than anything, he remembers the smell of her. Her perfume had smelled vanilla sweet, but not sugary. He can still smell it on himself, which is perhaps the most agonizing part of it. Every so often he’ll catch a whiff of her, and the cycle begins anew.

He can’t wait a whole day. He has to see her again.

This is how Homelander finds himself sitting atop a fifteen storey condo complex. He figured her home wouldn’t be terribly far from her office, and after scanning several city blocks, he found her. He can already smell her perfume wafting out an open window.

She’s cooking herself a meal when he finds her. He watched by focusing his vision down several storeys. She’s putting together some kind of pasta dish that Homelander has no interest in. However, she hums while she cooks, and he likes that. It’s a jazzy kind of tune, matching the sway of her hips as she moves from place to place. While he’s wholly disinterested in the meal itself, it’s tempting to imagine her cooking for him.

After that, she settles down at her desk. She just got home, and yet she appears to be working again already. Homelander cocks his head to the side, honing in on what’s on her screen. The top-down angle isn’t ideal, but he can make out enough to figure out she’s watching security cam footage from her own office. Intrigued, he stands up and walks about the roof, seeking a better angle to watch with her.

Layla is watching the security camera footage of their session. She’s taking notes, pausing or replaying from time to time. Frustratingly, he doesn’t understand the notes she’s taking. They look to be done in some kind of shorthand.

What really catches Homelander’s attention is when she pauses the video and leans back in her chair, crossing her arms. She’s staring at herself in his grip, his hand around her throat. Homelander’s eyes narrow slightly, trying to gauge her response. He can hear her heartbeat from here, but it’s steady. She’s not taking any notes, she’s simply staring at the freeze frame. Eventually, she takes a deep breath, and closes down her computer. She runs her hands through her hair, thoroughly mussing it before she stands.

It’s late enough in the evening now that Homelander has the cover of darkness when he descends down the side of the building, hovering outside her condo. Her line of vision is blocked by the walls, but not his. He watches with rapt attention as Layla makes her way through her bedroom to her bath. She cranks the faucet, and Homelander feels his mouth dry. Anticipation bubbles in his chest.

The way Layla undresses suits her character perfectly. She unbuttons her white blouse first, unfastening every single one before sliding it off her shoulders. She folds it loosely and places it down on the bathroom counter. Homelander swallows, his tongue clicking dryly as his lips part. She’s left now in a simple white camisole. Layla removes the undergarment, revealing a pretty pink bra. It isn’t lacy, or overly designed. It’s perfectly functional, and yet the color sends Homelander into a near frenzy, his jaw tight. What he’s seen of her wardrobe is largely monochrome, so is the pink simply a secret pleasure she indulges just for herself? It’s their secret now.

The bath is filling rapidly. Layla adds a dollop of liquid that froths up into foamy bubbles. She unbuttons her pants next, the zipper loud in Homelander’s ears. She folds the charcoal pants just as neatly, setting them next to her tops. Fuck, her panties are the same soft pink. Homelander braces his hand against the corner wall of the condo, biting down on his tongue. His cock is half hard. He presses his palm to it and gives himself a slow grind. He grits his teeth when she stops short of finishing undressing to fetch a towel from another room. She places it on a hook next to the tub, and begins humming. Homelander’s eyes fall shut almost immediately. He exhales a rough breath, but quickly forces his eyes back open.

Her voice resonates in his ears, drowns out the sound of the tub filling. He doesn’t recognize the melody, but it’s different from what she’d hummed during their session. It’s slow, almost sensual. Does she know he’s watching her? She must. Why else would she be moving so torturously slow? Finally, standing in front of the tub, she reaches behind to unclasp her bra. Homelander’s hand tightens on the corner of the building, his jaw slack. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. Her nipples are nearly the same pink as her underwear, and the chill of the evening has already perked them prettily. He imagines vividly how they would feel in his mouth. His cock throbs at the thought, almost fully hard now.

Stepping out of her panties, Homelander also gets the perfect view of the dark thatch of neatly groomed hair between her legs. She sets her underwear just as tidily atop her other clothes, and shuts off the faucet to her bath. When Layla slips into the water, she gives a sigh of pleasure that reverberates in Homelander’s ears, setting his teeth on edge. She’s taunting him now, just like when she’d refused his kiss, pressed her finger to his lips like she owned them. He can still remember how she tasted when he licked his lips. Homelander grinds harder against his own hand, steadily losing himself in a mix of memories, fantasies and what’s before his very eyes. Layla sinks deeper into the bath, tipping her head back to rest in the divot along the back of the tub. Homelander watches, transfixed, as she drags soapy water up her chest, her neck, over her face. She takes it to the back of her neck and massages there, her eyes falling shut. The steel beneath his hand groans slightly, but it’s lost on Homelander. He can hear nothing but the soft vibrations of her voice as her humming continues to torment him, joined now by the occasional slosh of water. He rocks his hips slow against his hand, following the tempo she’s set with her melody.

Layla pauses her tune to take in a deep breath, one hand settling on the side of the tub while the other disappears beneath the water. Her eyes are closed, but after a moment, her brows furrow. Her lips fall open on an unspoken oh. Homelander realizes with a start that she’s touching herself. He groans loudly, tipping his head back briefly, gut churning with a flare of heat. With a fumbling hand, he quickly clicks open his belt and yanks his pants open with a viciousness his suit barely survives. He pulls his straining cock free, and grips it tight in his leather-clad palm.

He can see it. He can see her fingers moving in slow circles, hidden from everyone’s view, even hers, but not from him. He pumps his cock slow at first, squeezing the steel frame of the building. He’s distracted when her other hand moves, slipping up her chest, massaging gently at her own breasts. Those should be his hands. He should be responsible for those airy little sounds she makes. She should be bouncing on his cock with her fingers on his lips, in his mouth. Homelander flips rapidly between fantasy and reality, mouth hanging open, grunting out strained little sounds of pleasure.

Layla’s hand slides further up her body, from her chest to her throat. Her eyes are shut tight, and the pace of her fingers picks up. She gives her own throat a small squeeze. “Fuck,” Homelander rasps, gritting his teeth as he pumps his cock faster in turn. She’s thinking about him, he has no fucking doubt. She’s doing this because of him, for him. She’s remembering the way he touched her, had to see it for herself on film, and now she’s showing him exactly what she wants him to do to her. Inside, he can hear Layla’s breathing turn erratic, her heart rate steadily climbing. “That’s it,” he whispers, head tipped back, watching her through narrowed eyes. “Thaaat’s it, faster. That’s it, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Homelander comes with a strangled noise, the metal beam his hand sinking beneath his grasp, leaving a permanent indentation of his hand. He gasps in a sharp breath, head spinning while he rides out the pleasure. He strokes himself through it, watching with feverish intensity as Layla also hits her climax, her fingers stilling while she loudly moans her pleasure. She’s thoroughly debauched, wet hair clinging to her face, a flush spread up her neck and over her cheeks. She looks nothing like the perpetually composed woman he met in her office. He wants to be the one to take her apart like this.

Gingerly, Homelander tucks himself back into his pants. He pushes a hand through his hair, inhaling deeply. Layla sits relaxed awhile longer, lingering in her pleasure-induced stupor in the tub, lips set in an absent smile. He continues to watch while she finishes up her bath, washing her hair, rubbing the makeup from her face. He even lingers while she braids her damp hair, dressed for bed in nothing but a satiny night slip. Homelander listens to the way she falls asleep. Her breathing evens out over time, and the beat of her heart steadily slows. She sleeps on her side, her braid trailing on the pillow behind her, one hand beneath her cheek. Drifting to the balcony door across from her bed, Homelander lands silently. He cocks his head, eying the door. Curiously, just to check, Homelander tests the handle of the door. Unlocked. The corners of his mouth twitch. She may as well have invited him in.

Stepping inside, Homelander is immediately hit with that same pleasant vanilla scent. It’s richer now, no barriers between them. He walks to her bed first, casting a shadow over her in the wake of the city light spilling in. She’s fast asleep, lips parted on shallow breaths. The natural color of her lips is a pretty mauve, but he sees why she wears the red. It commands authority. Without it, she looks almost.. demure.

Looking away, Homelander decides to peruse. He snoops through her closet first, running his hand along the rows of clothing sitting on hangers. Just as he’d seen with his x-ray vision, there’s very little color in her wardrobe. However, a rich pop of blue catches his eye. The dress is floor length, but with a slit on the right side that runs high up the thigh. It’s set off the shoulders, with long sleeves. He takes off his glove, tucking it under his arm, to feel the fabric, rubbing it between his fingers. Velvet.

This is what she was wearing the first night he saw her. Vought had hosted a prestigious gala in an attempt to recoup investor funds in the wake of media frenzies, and he can remember vividly the first moment he noticed her. She had been standing with a date leagues below her, a sorry excuse of a man who couldn’t hold a conversation in a bucket. He had been bewildered by the duo until he learned the true nature of their partnership. Of course he was paying her. There was no other way a woman like her would be caught dead with a man of his caliber.

When she smiled at his terrible jokes, Homelander couldn’t help but roll his eyes. She spoke to him like she was reading from a script— a feeling he was all too familiar with. Their situations were not so different. Homelander had also been forced to regurgitate garbage from men who were less than dirt compared to him.

After that night, he spent days wondering about her before finally deciding to seek her out.

Moving on, Homelander makes his way to the bathroom. Her clothes are right where she left them, folded neatly on the sink. Swallowing dryly, he steps closer, reaching with his ungloved hand to pick up the simple white camisole from the stack. Lips parted, he brings it to his nose, taking a slow, deep inhale of it. His eyes flutter shut. His spent cock throbs dully. Looking around, Homelander tucks the camisole under his arm alongside his glove, and continues exploring, listening for any sign of Layla’s sleep being disturbed. He pokes and prods about her drawers, her cabinets, but doesn’t find anything of particular interest. She likely keeps anything related to her job at her office. In the kitchen, Homelander pops open the fridge. It’s pretty well stocked, she certainly cooks for herself. There’s fresh produce, cuts of meat, and… a half gallon of milk. Licking his lips, Homelander reaches for it, standing up straight with his arm resting on the door of the fridge. He turns it over in his hand. Whole milk. Quietly, he pops open the carton, and lifts it up to his lips, giving a soft, satisfied grunt as he guzzles a few sips.

Catching himself before he downs the whole carton, Homelander sets it back in the fridge, wiping his mouth with the back of his ungloved hand. He licks his lips clean, and starts walking back towards the bedroom. Circling the bed, Homelander stands before Layla once more, head cocked. She’s made it painfully apparent that she wants him as much as he wants her. He felt confident when she so readily booked him again, but now he’s wholly certain of it. Reaching out, Homelander barely brushes his bare knuckles down her cheek. Bracing his hand on her headboard, he leans in close enough to feel each of her breaths on his lips. He could take her now. Wrap his hand around her throat and fuck her the way he’s sure she was fantasizing about. His lips nearly touch hers when he remembers what she said to him.

“It’s about what someone can give to you. Let me take care of you, okay?” Homelander stops. Flexing his hand on the headrest, he stands back up. Taking in a breath, he takes his glove out from under his arm and slides it back on. The camisole, he bundles up into a ball to keep for himself. He casts Layla one last lingering gaze before he turns around, stepping out onto her balcony. He closes the door softly behind him, and then takes off into the night sky. Their next session can’t come soon enough. Chapter two.

#homelander x oc #homelander x ofc #homelander #homelander fanfiction #it's done!!! #my writing #eat your ego

[will-wood-confessions]

i commented on youtube almost two years ago that the lyrics of the stereosexuals songs were kinda misogynistic and i STILL get people responding to it saying that i “actually don’t understand the songs they’re not misogynistic at all he’s playing a character it’s just like front street.” someone made a meme about my comment on the will wood subreddit. mind you. i still like the songs. they’re very catchy and i enjoy edgy bullshit. but some of the lyrics skeeve me out a little. even if the songs are playing a character, which i do think they are, they don’t have the same clarity of purpose as front street or even thermodynamic lawyer. it’s ok to like something while still criticizing its more problematic aspects. i think some people have kind of a “will can do no wrong ever” attitude that stops them from doing this.

#will wood confessions #ww confessions 070 - 079 #will wood #will wood and the tapeworms #wwatt #wwattw #the stereosexuals

[windcarvedlyre]

After almost 100%ing Enankomiya recently, does anyone else feel like the Sunchildren have parallels with the Seven?

A corrupt but worshipped political core (Celestia and the Heavenly Principles/the Dainichi Mikoshi and the nobles behind it), ruling a realm with an artificial substitute for the true sky and controlling fundamental aspects of the place (the day/night cycle for Enankomiya). Using the Sunchildren/Seven as sacred figureheads, making them commit tyrannical acts against their people and serve as scapegoats. Giving them objects signifying their power that simultaneously symbolise their subservience: a 'bridle' for the sunchildren, chess-piece-shaped gnoses for the archons.

The Sunchildren were executed at a certain age to prevent them from maturing and learning their true role. The Seven are more self-aware but Nahida didn't know the sky was fake, erosion* gives them all expiry dates that could limit their accumulation of knowledge and power, and most of the original Seven conveniently died 500 years ago. Right after seeing the false sky break and being forced to be complicit in genocide. The archon war could have been a way to have gods killed before they became too problematic (and thin their numbers to be more manageable) as well.

The Sunchildren were still children. They were lonely. Enankomiya's people considered them willfully ignorant but they had no real agency.

One of the sunchildren sang beautifully and played the lyre. Another sculpted with clay. Another spent an early portion of his life very ill but recovered from this and gained knowledge in medicine. I can't find parallels to archons in the rest- one was into boating and you could link that to hydro or Inazuma, but that's a stretch- but the lyre one especially sent me.

Am I insane? Am I reading into this too much?

*I've read that in chinese erosion is attributed to the Heavenly Principles. Apparently the english lore has translated references to them in vague ways that obscure lore multiple times.

#genshin impact #genshin #.txt #i bet there's some detailed analysis of this on youtube/reddit already #but i wanted to get my thoughts down