#though i also often make them do things on their whims and for their aspirations

[westmoor]

the hart

(«- the fox. «- the hare)

(3.6k, shifter!jaskier, geraskier. some angst, some anxiety, some whump and violence - and healing.)

Destiny had favoured him, or so he’d thought.

Jaskier had been a different creature then. For the creature he is now, the world has little mercy.

Whatever courage youth had given him, darting down secret alleys on daring quests in the streets of Oxenfurt, skittering past the guards of his childhood estate to chase whatever whims the night presented, it’s all gone now.

Driven out by the dying light of day, vacant darkness with its tendrils crawling closer, growing longer, lean and frail. Grasping until they find him, take and remake him, warping his body to this shape he doesn’t recognize. And at last, plunging his world into one of twisting nightmares, undulating breaths hot and heaving through the grass, and the shadowed beasts stalking, searching, as the last remnants of his fortitude slips away under his feet.

Silence, he thinks, is the only mercy spared for creatures like him.

Beyond the concert of the dawn chorus, the lyric of a nightingale at dusk, the mourning of wolves calling their distant brethren as the season grows colder, there’s another world of sound. Imperceptible to all but those that live in frequent danger, that hold their breath and press their bellies to the ground in fields and meadows, straining their ears for a sign to flee.

Sudden fluttering of wagtails and startled sparrows. Squirrels hoarsely chattering above. Watchful rabbits drumming in the thicket, ordering their children underground.

He tries to wield it, to wrap himself in it. If he stays in this voiceless creature long enough, breathes quietly enough, perhaps the savagery that trails the luscious scent of prey in his tracks will go on by, and forget about him altogether.

Perhaps if he is good enough, hides deep enough - perhaps he can forget, too. Forget about foxes and hares and men with infections in their hearts, about whichever sickness has taken hold in him.

Or perhaps his luck runs out, like it so often does for those whose lives are favoured more by chance than destiny. Then, well, that is just a different sort of silence.

But for Jaskier, when chance fails him and he finds himself outwitted and caught in the jaws of that ultimate mercy, silence doesn’t come.

Instead, what finds him is a threadbare cloak, a smouldering campfire, a red mare, and the steady hands of a witcher.

--

They make it back to the little clearing he had run from, Jaskier’s cloth-wound body bundled in Geralt’s arm like something precious.

As shock begins to lose its grip on his mind, peeling back the layer of numbness he’s been afforded, the pain comes seeping back. With every step and jostle, something rattles in his chest. His joints move, but they move wrong.

He doesn’t know if bones this brittle are made to heal, or if this is just a body built for breaking. The icy wet that trickles through his coat is almost a distraction.

It hurts so much. It should hurt more.

He doesn’t even have a voice to whimper in.

It’s not until he’s lowered gently to the ground that he realises where they are, recognizes the low-hanging branches and the saddlebags piled haphazardly where he’d last seen Geralt standing. Recognizes too the wave that now, his panic bled out into the musty leaves somewhere on the forest floor behind them, feels more like shame. Thought battles instinct in his frayed mind and he knows he cannot run, but he cannot stay, and -

And had he been an excess burden in Geralt’s life before, then now, surely -

For eyes as wide as his, meant to discern between friend and foe at a league, any feature this close might as well be cruel. The details of his face are unclear as Geralt leans over him.

But he does know movement. Feels the fingertip that strokes the divot in his forehead. Geralt speaks, but the tone is clearer than the words, and it isn’t harsh. While passing over dirtied fur, easing down his ears, the other hand moves into the space between them and makes a sign.

Just like that, Jaskier’s world grows small again.

Slowly, the phantoms crouching at his vision’s edge recede, forced back beyond the shadows of the trees, kept at bay by scant firelight. Mighty trunks stand sentinel, barring their return.

Gone is the endless sky and the swift death that soars there. Gone too are the open fields and the dangers that prowl them, pointed snouts pressed to the ground, wetting their tongues at the scent of his injury.

He only knows what moves within this temporary refuge - tonight in the forest, tomorrow in the field - and the rounded silhouettes of those that could, but would not harm him.

There is no grand reckoning. No speech or lofty monologue, no words to twist or tones to ring false. Geralt doesn’t beg for forgiveness, makes no excuses, but he talks - low and smooth, for as long as Jaskier is awake to hear it.

The words will have faded from memory by dawn, but their essence remains - the solemn promise made that night, heard by none but the tall pines, a red mare, and himself. The one wrapped around him like a cloak, applied in layers of soothing honeyed balm over claw marks and wounds before it is spoken into existence: That no new hurt will find him here.

It’s a tedious process, but Geralt is right: his body does heal. Though the first week or so is spent under a dim fog brought by his witcher’s hand, it requires a restraint he never knew he had to hold out until his flesh starts to knit together.

Once his bones grow strong enough not to snap under the pressure as they twist in their fastenings, he finds the gap between one form and the other, and wills it open.

The transformation, though not always voluntary, had always come easy. This does not. It feels like fitting an old key, like forcing a lock that’s threatening to rust shut, throwing his weight against it in the hopes that the bar gives before the hinge.

He takes his first breath in the ribcage of a man like one saved from drowning. It burns and strains, and he is dizzy with the sudden height - but relief floods him like a tidal pool, and drowns out every other sensation.

When he looks up, Geralt is there, holding his clothes and lute, the things he’d left behind when they became too much to carry.

That becomes a pattern.

I am healed, he tells himself, and tells himself until he believes it, once his shoulder bends and deep breaths come painlessly. He believes it when he sings the songs of great grey beasts and their mountain brothers, terrible monsters and greater heroes, piecing together their stories bit by bit.

I will be healed, he decides, and tries to forget the songs about moorhens’ clucking and black little paws through the dew. Putting those pieces together not because they fit, but because they must, and tries to lose the ones left over.

But more often than not, Geralt is there and he picks them up, one by one, and hands them back in all the right order.

“You weren’t a hare when we met,” Geralt states one evening, in a moment of relative quiet - as quiet as their evenings are, one tuning his lute and the other sharpening the hunting knife he’d just tried to give Jaskier a lesson in wielding.

As if conjured by the mention of its name, Jaskier’s heart sets to beating. Although many unsaid things had become topics of conversation lately, neither had tried putting words to that. He suppresses the nervous shudder that crawls along his neck.

“I’m not a hare now either,” he says, and though it’s phrased in jest, it’s a reminder more than anything else: That he is not prey, and he will not run.

Geralt dismisses it with a grunt, and Jaskier knows that wasn’t what he had meant. There was a question in that statement, one of the dozens he himself had pondered over years, though he’s not sure which one exactly. Luckily, they all have the same answer.

“I don’t know,” he says, and the pressure at the back of his throat and how the words in his head refuse to conform into sentences tells him whatever comes next will be a ramble. While he’s never had trouble speaking frankly, honesty is harder. !I don’t know when or why or… how. Not how it started, even. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t - or when I didn’t - whatever I am.”

He’s aware that he’s stopped playing. Looking at his hands still poised over the strings, he wills the stream to slow, and tries to find solid ground to stand on. Geralt, bless him, gives him time.

“I believe it changed, though,” he continues once the whirling pool in his stomach has settled, when he’s less at risk of going under. “When we were in Rinde - perhaps later? I felt as though I’d come apart. Like a music box shattered on the floor and put back together, looking just like it had before, but the melody not playing the same.”

“In Rinde,” Geralt repeats, frown deepening with something akin to guilt. “Do you think the djinn, or Yen…?”

Jaskier has thought about it. Still thinks about it, when it all comes seeping through a bedroom window, when the sweet beckoning of the wind outside becomes curses. When it raps at the glass and taunts him for hiding his face in borrowed blankets or warm skin of a stranger, laughing at his cowardice. He remembers going out of tune, dissonant thrumming at his core at the disturbance of foreign magic.

“Yes,” he says.

But he also remembers Geralt’s gaze falling on another, losing the weight of it and coming unmoored. A beautiful sorceress, soft arms wrapped around rough, hushed voices ringing in unison. Seasons shifting and roads turning under his feet as he followed that to which he had tethered his dreams and aspirations. He remembers the scent of smoke and hunt and howl, and laying claim to a home, to a heart that wasn’t offered.

“But I think it was me, too,” he finishes. “I think the djinn - or Yennefer - or something may have pulled my pegs loose, so to speak. But the shape I took, that was mine.”

He’s always found it curious - if sometimes unfortunate - how words not intended to be spoken aloud but come by their own volition often seem to manifest more strongly than those initially planned. How much harder they are to ignore.

Curious, too, how a thing once named becomes tangible and must, at least in concept, adhere to the rules and limitations of the real world. How it can be touched and held, put away and taken out, turned over until it stops hurting.

The nights grow long in the wilderness, and the passing of summer shortens the days. And while he is no longer driven to bolt from his skin in fits that feel like madness, the whispers of the dark still tinge the air he breathes with the sweetness of rock-rose and blackberry. There are nights when it becomes inevitable, when he knows before the sun has set that the carefully balanced scales of temptation and trepidation will tip, and he will spend the hours of darkness trapped within this animal that cannot sing.

But even then, there is respite.

An index finger easing the tension of his furred head, careful strokes to coax his ears from their rigid stance, from turning at any sound real or imagined. Palms coming settling over his temples, roughened fingertips on bare skin, providing solid walls against all that feels too vast to comprehend, and reducing his world to just what can be held between two hands.

If the drumming of rabbits is his signal of peril, the signal of peace becomes the rhythm of a slow and steady heart, beating faithfully in the chest just beneath his ear.

It’s there, in the secluded space between their bodies where he draws circles to match the caresses over the small of his back, that he finds the courage to unearth the fragments of what he once was, mismatched bones and unmoored thoughts and instincts all he has been unable to lose, and starts to mold them back together into something recognizable.

As the thing that has sprouted and grown lush from the ruins of what was between them matures and turns vibrant, so do the leaves.

Autumn brings abundance the likes of which he has barely known. Roadsides overflow with wildberries to rival the richest vineyards of Toussaint. Cider sweet as honey pours in every tavern in their way, pressed apples picked from branches hung so low to the ground they must've sighed with relief at the loss of their burden.

Yet no sun-warmed apple cider shines as golden, nor has any Toussaint wine rendered him as drunk as his lover’s eyes or lips on his. At his side, in his arms, Jaskier finds the hollow indentations of a former self still vacant, still waiting. And the corresponding edges, worn smooth like river rocks over time, fall into place with such ease he wonders how they ever came apart at all.

There, safe under Geralt’s gentle touch, the wild may call all it wants.

--

Another forest’s edge, another contract, another waning moon.

Jaskier stokes the fire, tending to the warding light, wondering idly whether flames ignited by a Witcher’s sign hold more power than those lit by mere mortals. He likes to think they do. If he leans into it, he can easily convince himself of Geralt’s grounding presence remaining long after his footsteps are lost in the undergrowth. Behind him, Roach grazes in a patch of clovers, her calm tempering even the most skittish of his natures.

It is still, stiller than it has been for a while. The slight gale that picked up at the setting sun has dwindled to a breeze. He thought about unpacking his lute near an hour ago, but wouldn’t risk disturbing the sanctity of the evening, its melody would feel too far out of place in the arrangement of grasshoppers and midnight warblers.

Even to his human senses, animals of bush and green play in concert - from the whip of a falcon’s wings to the complaints of adolescent woodgrouse reluctant to leave their natal clutch - unknowingly orchestrated, and all of them distant. None, no matter their place in nature's hierarchy, dare test their mettle against the ever-present sense of death and danger that shrouds the dwelling of a witcher.

They stir and fuss, some waking while others settle down to sleep, until they don’t.

Jaskier’s buried instincts know it before his waking mind does, the urgent shift in pace and tune, discordant notes of prey’s first warning.

He listens intently.

It must be large, or voracious, or both. Seldom does a simple beast inspire such disquiet, word of its advances sending ripples of caution to every ear that knows to harken.

Be quick, they say, or be quiet.

Though he can’t make out the movements of the thing itself, the tell-tale cries and rattles of other creatures point its path. A bird takes wing, then another, each one closer and all too close to their camp.

Roach stands frozen, nostrils flared. He thinks he can hear it now. Smell the stench of its breath if he tries, make out its shape in there amongst the trees, moving with far too much stealth for anything that size. Too large for a cat, too quiet for a bear.

It closes in, so near now that a crouch, a leap, might take it into their midst.

Jaskier holds his breath. There is nothing else to do. Not as a fox, or a hare, or a man. Nothing to do but wait.

Whether real or supplied by imagination, he hears it scuff at the ground, draw a deep lungful of scent down into its massive body. And then it moves - away, back into the woods.

For a moment, he welcomes the silence, rushing elation that fortune has yet to claim his debts. But realization doesn’t follow far behind.

No wild thing would come upon a witcher by accident. None could miss the scent of one, and none should come so close to it before changing their mind, unless...

The lone hunter, whatever its goals, has picked a fresher trail: Geralt’s.

It’s ill-advised. More so, it’s stupid. The knife feels foreign in his hand.

He’s not such a fool that he thinks he can fight it, or that the blade or his ability to wield it would make any difference at all. But he must do something, needs to try. If only he can warn Geralt, call out in time and let him know before the beast can pounce…

But it moves fast, and his eyes are slaves to the light, inadequate under the ceiling of leaves and branches. Soon, he hardly knows if he follows it at all.

Every fiber of his being wills against abandoning this last shred of defense, but he knows he has no choice, not if he is to make it.

The knife lands with a thump, the soft ground cushioning its fall. For the first time in a long time, by his own volition, Jaskier shuts his eyes and folds his frame in on itself, opening them to a world tall and vast and all too sharp.

Speed is on his side. This is a body made for running, and run it does. By whatever force his kind is blessed, by fate or chance or both, nothing stands in his way. Though moments wasted on doubt comes at a price, and though he covers ground thrice as fast, he can’t gain it all back.

His vision is wide. The white of Geralt’s head, back turned as he brings his weight down to end the last of the ghouls, lights it like a beacon.

And the ragged shape, hulking even where it’s coiled to spring, attention locked to Geralt’s undefended back with an intensity that swears violence. Canine eyes do not glow, but in that moment, in his world of ash and shadow, Jaskier swears the werewolf’s eyes shine red.

And a hare’s cry, no matter his haste, no matter how shrill, holds no power to them.

He sees everything at once.

Glints of teeth under snarling lips as it jumps. The flash of the witcher’s blade as it swings too high, going clear of the werewolf’s head.

Its jaws lock at his side, tearing through armour and sinew into muscle, grating against bone. Jaskier has never heard a sound like this. Not from man, or from beast. Not from Geralt. It's sheer anguish turned vocal.

Something in him breaks, then.

Like an old joint, once healed wrong and calcified, cracking open to swing freely. It hurts at first. The snap, burning white-hot and blinding. And then: Euphoria.

His body regresses to the confines of a man, and beyond. The change is too fast to feel, too fast to track.

A new form, new instincts bursting through before he knows how to tame them. Fear gives way to fury. By the time he knows he is moving, he has already moved.

It takes no thought at all to lower his head. To align his skull and spine. Leap from his spot.

The impact ought to hurt, but it doesn’t. There’s an audible crack as something breaks, but not from him. Neither is the inhuman yowl that follows, sound reverberating through the forest.

The smell of blood fills his lungs. He doesn’t balk at it.

His face runs warm, runs wet. Twisting to free himself of frantic limbs and mottled fur, he shakes his antlers to strike again. This time, he finds the wolf yielding, limping back just shy of his sharpened crown. When it flees, he thinks to follow, to make up for every night and every hour spent in terror, driven underground by lesser beasts than this.

But Geralt’s scream still echoes in him, the sound of it a weight he cannot bear, couldn’t move under had he tried.

In the moment it takes to hesitate, doubt rears its head. Face awash and prongs painted red with the blood of another living thing, he feels about as far from the self he has learned to accept as one can come. To anyone else, he must look monstrous.

But when he turns, Geralt isn’t looking at him with disgust. Not with scorn, either. Or pity, or any other thing Jaskier had thought he’d face if he spoke the truth of his nature all those years ago.

Geralt raises the arm at his uninjured side. Had Jaskier been smaller, and softer, he would’ve slipped under it, curled up in the hollow at his witcher’s throat and stayed there, felt his heart beat and his chest rise until morning came to see them hale.

Instead, Geralt steadies himself with a hand on his neck and draws close. Giving more of his balance Jaskier than perhaps he means to, but no more than Jaskier can hold, his breaths so deep they might as well be sobs.

There are words to be had. Answers to be found. Leagues to walk, and promises to keep.

Soon enough, winter winds will sweep down across the continent, summons ringing from empty halls in far northern mountains, and they will answer.

But for now, Jaskier is home.

For now, the witcher leans his forehead against that of his hart - or fox, or hare, or bard - knowing that neither will follow that path alone.

At the edge of the woods and throughout the field beyond, rabbits cease their drumming, and the first few songbirds wake to herald the dawn.

--

Sorry for showing up half-assed four months late?

Tag list: @llamasdumpsterfire @stinastar​ @elliestormfound​ @justjess94​ @fontegagrilledcheese​ @dani-dandelino​ @honeysuckletook​ @underwaterattribute @ahhhhhhdonna @biitumen @cinary @saphiramalbec @lilbanili @sulkyshengshou @blooodymoon @dapandapod @kuripon @samstree

@tsukuyomi-selene and @herostag asked to be tagged for this one in particular, I think?

#post before i chicken out #the fox #the hare #the hart #geraskier #the witcher fanfic #shapeshifter!jaskier #geralt #jaskier

[batfoonery]

Binge-worthy (Batfam Headcanons)

My brain has been on the fritz, so binging shows and completing fiber craft wips has been about the only non-classwork activity I can handle.

Dick

Doesn't often binge watch shows, if ever. He doesn't like feeling like he's wasting time in front of a screen when he could be out there working a case, doing a job, saving a kitten from a tree or helping an old lady with groceries, etc etc.

Sometimes he can't sleep though, and there are two shows that are always on somewhere in the variety of his cable package: Law & Order SVU and Criminal Minds. Sometimes Dami snuggles up with him and they share ice cream and cry over SVU stories that hit a little too close to home until dawn comes to cleanse the morning.

He's seen just about every episode of each. And he has a Lot Of Feelings about SVU.

Be the Olivia Benson that you want to see in the world.

Jason

You cannot tell me this child does not love nasty TLC dramas. Say Yes to the Dress (he likes Atlanta best, but the og is also *chef's kiss*), Seeking Sister Wives, I Love a Mama's Boy, 90 Day Fiance, My 600lbs Life.... He's seen them all.

There are some days where it is too icky out for villains, so he holes himself up in a safehouse with snacks otherwise banned from the mannor, and alternates between trashy tv shows and classic lit.

Steph, Cass, and Babs usually break in and they all end up falling asleep screeching at the tv together.

Cass

No one ever sees her actually watching tv or streaming any shows online, but she's always up to date with the popular programs.

Knows all the good B99 quotes, and always deploys them with the best timing. It drives Tim crazy because he's always trying to watch them with her but they're always too busy.

The secret is she watches everything with Bruce. It's their bonding time, snacking on Alfred-approved pre-patrol snacks and having peaceful time before patrol.

Tim

Kinda watches things? But kinda doesn't. He plays things in the background while doing other things. So he gets the stories, but doesn't always get the details.

Loves all the different Star Treks and also some older programs, like I Love Lucy, I Dream of Jeannie, Gilligan's Island, MASH.... Old sitcoms make him nostalgic, because his dad used to enjoy them.

Sometimes if he's having a bad day he'll watch one and kind of just doze in and out, not really paying attention.

On those days, Alfred sits with him if he has the time. Tim's out of it, like his brain is resetting, and Alfred will just kinda pet his head, make sure he's getting fluids (tea, non-caffeinated, or flavored water). They don't talk, and it's possible that Tim isn't even fully aware that he's there. But it's nice.

Duke

When my man binges, he BINGES. Sometimes they don't see him for days. That's how he got through all of the (modern) seasons of Dr. Who (Ten and Rose always make him tear up, but Dr. River Song is his favorite character. She's a chaotic sass machine that he aspires to emulate).

Bounces around from genre to genre. Likes fantasy, comedy, sci-fi... isn't as big on slice of life. Binging is a good way to escape, and he takes full advantage.

Famous binges have included: The Witcher, Witches of Waverly Place, Suite Life of Zack and Cody, Phineas and Ferb, The October Faction, The Order, The Haunting of Hill House, Modern Family, and Sherlock.

Damian

Duke got him hooked on anime. He literally reads manga in canon it isn't exactly a big leap. Unlike Duke, he enjoys slice of life, with maybe limited fantasy. Fruits Basket, Shugo Chara!, and Blue Exorcist are all things he's watched and enjoyed, but that's about as "fantasy" as he'll get.

Found family/friends are his favorite types of story. Kabukibu! is one that he found particularly charming.

That being said, if a show has particularly stunning animation, even if it isn't his favorite genre, he'll watch it. The first few seasons of RWBY, for example.

Oh my GOD LAND OF THE LUSTROUS. Dick agreed to binge watch it with him on a whim and they ended up not emerging from the bed until they'd seen all the episodes. No food, no sleep. Just story and beautiful perfect animation. When they were seen again they were in tears and demanded that Bruce figure out how to fund a second season. He told him that he'd work on it and be the hero that we all need, I NEED MORE OK?!

#batfam #batfamily headcanons #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #cassandra cain #tim drake #duke thomas #damian wayne

[boxesandrings]

Hello!! I just recently got into the stardew fandom and I'm notice a severe lack of Elliot content ;-; could I please get something fluffy and/or explicit with him and an afab or gender neutral farmer?? Hope you have a good day!!

Hello! It took me a while to decide if I wanted to do a smut or a fluff, but ultimately I decided a fluff, just because I love Elliott so much and wanted to see his soft and lovey side (also, I just published a smut of him on my AO3, and if you want to read it you can click here). Hope you enjoy!

Title: Dedicated

Rating: G

Summary: Elliott dedicated his novel to the Farmer, but the Farmer gets confused and thinks it's for someone else. Reassuring fluff ensues.

Characters: Elliott, nb!Farmer, Leah, Maru, Lewis, Gunther

Words: 2741

Elliott was not a nervous person. There never really was a reason for him to be— things tended to work out for him. School came naturally to him, and any poor grades were often changed for him after pleading his case to his teachers. Elliott only applied to his dream school and was accepted easily, and excelled within his program. He slept with the people he wanted, because they always wanted to sleep with him too, and when he decided on a whim to move to Pelican Town, the breezy seaside town he frequented on vacations as a child, the cabin was already there, almost as if waiting for him. Things worked out.

The Farmer, however, made him nervous. They arrived a little over a year after he did, and Elliott couldn’t help but find the newcomer intimidating. They’d spend long days out in the sun, tilling the earth or wrangling chickens. Elliott would often step out of his cabin early in the morning to enjoy the stillness of the beach, only to find the Farmer already there, holding a fishing pole. They were non-stop, powerful. Elliott couldn’t help but feel inadequate around them, his stomach fluttered every time he spoke to the new Farmer.

Their short, shoulder length golden hair and long, muscular legs didn’t make anything easier either. The first summer after the Farmer had moved to town, Elliott had been so mesmerized by the way the Farmer’s back muscles looked as they helped Willy move some barrels on the dock that he hadn’t noticed the firepit in front of his house and tripped on the rocks, breaking his wrist.

He’d never had trouble flirting with other people before; Elliott knew he looked good and drew people in with his artistic vibe, and who would be able to resist his 10,000 megawatt smile? But for some reason the Farmer was different. He’d get flustered anytime the Farmer spoke to him, but for some reason the Farmer kept coming back.

He kissed the Farmer almost two months ago now, their stomachs both burning and heads dizzy from the homemade pomegranate wine the Farmer had made. Elliott had been bold and messy, and instantly had regretted how he had pulled the Farmer in, but they just smiled and kissed him again, over and over until the night sky grew bright. Elliott had bought a proper bouquet the next day, and the relationship had been going well since.

Elliott scanned the museum now, looking for his partner. After his book had been picked up and published by a proper agency a month ago, Mayor Lewis had insisted upon a proper book reading and signing event. The Mayor had told Elliott it was to honor his accomplishments, to celebrate Pelican Town’s first proper author, but Elliott had the feeling it was more about the potential revenue the tourists might bring in.

The Farmer walked into the museum, their arms linked between both Maru and Leah’s, the three of them laughing as they shuffled in. Elliott waved, and the Farmer waved back, face beaming with pride. The group slipped toward the back of the crowd, leaning against the display shelves. As if on cue, the Mayor walked up to the microphone on the makeshift stage Gunther had set up in the museum and addressed the crowd, introducing Elliott and reminding the tourists of all Pelican Town’s many amenities. Elliott rolled his eyes at the Farmer who giggled with their friends, and made his way up behind Lewis.

“Thank you all, for coming today. It truly is so exciting to see that in the short time my novel has been out how many people it resonated with, how many of you traveled to see me.” He bit his lip and scanned the room, attempting to gauge the interest of the crowd. A young woman up front threw him a look Elliott could describe as bedroom eyes, and he coughed, quickly looking away.

“Well, I’m certainly excited to start this, as I’m sure you all are.” A small laugh from the crowd, agreement. “The book, as some of you may know, is Camellia Station, a romance about a stewardess who falls in love with a travelling architect, and the great distances each would go for their love.” He picked up the book. “Shall we begin?

The crowd let out a small cheer, and just from listening, Elliott could tell it was mostly from his friends in town. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ears, and cracked open the cover.

“Camellia Station.” A small smattering of cheers, this time from a larger section of the crowd. He flipped the page, his breath hitching.

To My Love.

He had forgotten he had written that, almost eight months ago when he had sent in the final draft of his manuscript. The love in question, of course, was the Farmer, who hadn’t known how maddeningly in love he was with them at the time, and still hadn’t heard the words from Elliott himself. It was so quick, and they had only been on a few proper dates.

Elliott realized he had been silent staring at the page. Only for three, maybe five seconds, but long enough. He looked up, flashing a sheeping smile. “Sorry, it’s just hard to believe this is finally happening.” Some members of the crowd laughed, and Elliott cleared his throat.

“To my love.” He flipped the page quickly, and heard the young woman in the front row sigh dreamily. “Chapter One. 'Your ticket, sir?' Ticket collector Gozman extended a gloved hand towards the young commuter. 'Ah, yes. I have it right here,' he replied, reaching into his coat pocket. Mortified, he discovered that the ticket was missing..."

********************************************

The rest of the reading went off without a hitch. At the end of the second chapter, Elliott closed the novel and looked up at the crowd, a playful smile on his lips. “As much as I’d love to continue, we must return the museum back to its generous owner, who provided us the space to conduct this event. Thank you all so much for coming to listen and share this day with me.”

The audience began to clap, some more enthusiastically than others, and Elliott blushed as he heard the Farmer’s group being especially rowdy from the back. People began to line up to purchase copies of his book or to have him sign ones they already owned. After 20 or so minutes of signatures and well wishes, Elliott looked up to see Maru, Leah, and the Farmer smiling back down at him.

“Ellie! I’m so proud of you!” Leah practically leapt over the desk to get to him, pulling him into a hug much tighter than he would have ever expected.

“Leah! Thank you. I’m so glad you all came.” He wiggled his way out of her arms and smiled at Maru. “I’m glad you were able to make it.” Maru smiled back at him and nodded.

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss it.” Maru had been a surprising addition to their friend group. Before the Farmer, it had been just him and Leah, two aspiring artists against the world. It wasn’t that they didn’t like or get along with her, they just didn’t run in the same circles. The Farmer had quickly bonded with Maru after arriving, though, and as they moved their way into Elliott and Leah’s lives, Maru came along for the ride. Now, Elliott could barely picture the group without her.

“Congrats, El.” The Farmer walked behind the table now and wrapped their arms around him, planting a kiss on his cheek. Elliott smiled, wrapping an arm around his partner.

“Were you hoping to get an autograph as well?” The Farmer pursed their lips and looked up, a pantomime of thought.

“Actually, I know the author, so I think I can just get one whenever I want.” Elliott laughed.

“Certainly.” He looked back up at the two women. “Seriously, though, I’m so glad you were all able to come today. It really means a lot to me.” Maru nodded, but Leah came right back up to the couple and wrapped them both in her arms.

“Of course! I wouldn’t have missed it for anything!” Leah brought the couple into her, her arms around both, tears in her eyes. “I love you all so much! Maru, you too! Get in here.”

Maru sighed behind them but smiled and made her way into the huddle, Leah’s arms encompassing her as well. She stood for a moment, humming quietly as she held her friends.

“Leah? Not to be the buzzkill, but almost everyone has left and Gunther is staring directly at us.” Elliott shuffled uncomfortably as the rest of the group spotted the curator. Leah let go of her friends, and began to make her way toward the door, apologizing as she went. Maru followed quickly after, and the Farmer and Elliott made their way out hand in hand.

“Yeah! I think it went super. You sounded really good up there.” Elliott stepped ahead, opening the door for the Farmer.

“Do you think it went well?” Elliott looked down at his partner. The Farmer nodded, looking at Elliott through the corner of their eye.

“Thanks.” Elliott appreciated the praise, but something had seemed off in the Farmer’s tone. Was it not actually good? Did they hate the book? Elliott felt nervous.

“Everything okay?” The Farmer paused, then turned to face Elliott, a weary smile on their face.

“Yeah! I just had to get up a little earlier this morning to make sure I had everything taken care of before the reading.” Elliott nodded, but the pit in the bottom of his stomach remained. “Are you still down for dinner at mine tonight?”

Elliott cheered up almost instantly. How could he have forgotten dinner?

“Of course! Let’s go, straight away!” He grabbed the Farmer’s hand and began to strut, his chest puffed out in a caricature of strength. The Farmer laughed, almost tripping as they tried to keep up with Elliott’s stride.

Once at the Farmer’s home, Elliott pulled up his hair and began the task of preparing dinner. Without a proper kitchen in his cabin, Elliott’s culinary prowess was wasted. In the Farmer’s renovated kitchen, however, he relished any chance to show off his skills. The Farmer opted for a shower while he prepared their meal, claiming to be covered in grime from the morning on the farm, but something in Elliott’s stomach twisted again, unsure if his partner’s words were true.

Lost in his thoughts, Elliott didn’t notice when the Farmer appeared behind him, wrapping their arms around his stomach as they peaked around his shoulders to watch the action on the stove. “Whatchya cooking?” Elliott twisted to kiss the Farmer’s head and inhaled deeply, promising to commit the smell of the Farmer’s shampoo, cedar and smoke, to memory.

“I’m just putting the sear on some snapper that I bought from Willy this morning, would you be a dear and get the wine from the fridge?” The Farmer nodded, and their arms slipped away as they padded to the fridge. Elliott heard the pour behind him; the ting of the neck of the bottle against the glasses. The Farmer walked back up beside him, holding one glass between them.

“Do you want a taste?” Elliott nodded, expecting the Farmer to hand him the glass, but was surprised when the Farmer lifted the glass to his lips, a serious and intent look in their eyes. Elliott drank from the glass without breaking eye contact, attempting to play it cool, even as he gripped the handle of the pan tighter. He felt another tinge in his stomach, but this one wasn’t from nerves.

“Why darling,” he said, his voice dangerously low, “it’s not yet time for dessert.” The Farmer smiled, their lips still pressed together and kissed Elliott’s cheek and turned, making their way to the table. Elliott turned his attention back to the fish and turned off the burner and began to plate, unsure now if the meal would be eaten right away after all.

As he carried the plates over to the table, the Farmer smiled and scratched their head. “I feel bad, I really should have cooked tonight. It’s your big day after all.” Elliot sat next to the Farmer, kissing their forehead quickly on his way.

“Nonsense. I love to cook, and any day I get the opportunity to only makes the day better.” The Farmer smiled, but Elliott noticed that their leg continued to bounce quickly underneath the table. He bit his lip. “Darling-”

“El, did I— oh.” The couple paused, eyeing each other.

“I just wanted to ask if everything was okay.” Elliott pursed his lips. The Farmer chuckled nervously and ran a hand through their damp hair.

Elliott blinked and set down his fork, confused. “What?” The Farmer leaned forward, regret in their eyes.ing your reading today, did I… was I the other person, like did my presence impact your last relationship?”

Elliott blinked and set down his fork, confused. “What?” The Farmer leaned forward, regret in their eyes.

“I’m not saying something happened or that you cheated or anything, I would never imply that, but I know when I came here I was kinda flirty and obviously you were into that but I thought you were single.” The Farmer was animated as they rambled, their hands waving about. “And I mean I’m happy to be with you, I prefer it this way, but I’d feel terrible if I somehow caused stress in your relationships at all—”

Elliott grabbed the Farmer’s hands and pulled them in toward him, drawing their attention back in. He shook his head, confused.

“Darling, I don’t— What are you talking about?” The Farmer bit their lip and looked down again.

“At the reading, the dedication… I mean, it was sweet, but you sent in the final draft, what, almost a year ago now? And the story was very good, you know I think that, but I couldn’t help but think about that and how… if I was some kind of topic of stress in whatever… you know.” The Farmer looked back up, eyes misty.

Elliott laughed. He couldn’t help it. This is what the Farmer had been stressed about? He could understand if, certainly, but their own nerves almost seemed silly compared to his. The Farmer tilted their head, waiting for Elliott to answer.

When he finally calmed down, Elliott shook his head and picked his fork back up, studying his food as he cut off a piece of the fish. “No, it’s been… my last true relationship was many, many years ago, long before I came to the valley.”

“Oh.” The Farmer nodded, but Elliot could hear the confused tone in their voice.

“The dedication was for you.” He looked back up at the Farmer, smiling. The Farmer blinked and opened their mouth to speak, but Elliott cut them off. “I know, but… in all honesty, I truly think I’ve been in love with you for a long time, dear.” The Farmer smiled now, the misty look returning to their eyes.

“Oh, El.” They giggled and moved their chair closer to his, and slid a hand around the back of his neck.

“I really do believe from the moment I first saw you, I fell for you,” Elliott continued. “You had my heart.” The Farmer let out another small giggle and leaned forward, pulling Elliott’s head in toward theirs for a kiss, deep and soft and tender.

When they pulled away, the Farmer leaned their forehead against his. “I love you too, Elliott.” They chuckled and bit their lip, eyes scanning his. “I know I don’t have some grand gesture or… beautiful speech to tell you with, but I do.” Elliott nodded, and kissed his partner again.

Elliott stood up, his arms still around the Farmer, pulling them up with him. He pulled the Farmer in flush against him, their bodies pressed together as he tried to continue to kiss them, unable to maintain the connection as he fought his smile.

“That’s alright darling, your love is grand enough.” The Farmer laughed as Elliott tried to pull them into an even tighter embrace..

“My Love.” The Farmer smiled as they studied Elliot’s face. Elliott’s hand made its way to the Farmer’s cheek, stroking the skin with his thumb.

“My love.”

#elliott sdv #sdv elliott #stardew elliott #sdv fic #fic request #requests open #sdv requests #stardew fluff

[melsie-sims]

Your bacc is my favorite story to read right now! I was wondering what personality mods do you use?

Aww thank you!! I'm really glad!! Mods add a lot of personality to the game for sure, and I hope these help, but it's not all. Most of it is still just to nudge my creativity. I mostly just use whims, first impressions and some autonomy to help with storytelling. Sometimes the game does some fun stuff that completely changes my plans for a sim though so it's great!

I have... a lot of mods, some smaller than others. The main ones that really change my game are the following:

MissyHissy's Personality Mod / Custom Whims & Hobby Mod. I give every sim in my game a Sims 2 Aspiration trait and a hobby when they age into teens or when they move into town as YA’s/Adults (they're found in the reward store).

Bienchen's Whim Overhaul & Trait Overhaul. I'm not sure exactly what that mod does or how much it changes my game, but I have gotten way better whims since I started using it so it's making the list!

Lumpinou's First Impressions Mod, Road to Romance, No Strings & Woohoo Wellness. They all add SO MUCH! I use the first impressions to plan friendships and romances. Sometimes it can cause a ton of drama when paired with WonderfulWhims’ attraction system, which I also recommend!

The No Strings Mod is great for poly ships or non-committal sims that want to play the field! Road to Romance is a mod I only downloaded recently so I can't really say yet whether or not I like it. I haven't experienced many of its features, but it adds cute rabbit hole dates that give fun moodlets.

Give Me Some Talent by FDSims4Mods is a MUST. I couldn't play without it anymore. It adds so much to the BACC since it's a challenge that relies a lot on skill building. It makes it way more fun to have sims that are good at things, but may suck at other things. Winona's an awful cook so I've been using that as a run-on joke.

LGBT Mod by PimpMySims4 (not really personality, but it does add a ton to the game! I pick these for my sims when they age up to teens as well. Sometimes I roll a dice to randomize the sexuality for extra spice.)

I also have custom careers and aspirations (KiaraSims4Mods is a great modder to check out for this!) which add a bit of variety. If you don't mind an insane amount of moodlets I suggest Chingyu traits. They're not in my game anymore; I personally couldn't handle just how much they overpowered sims' moods, but for storytelling some of them are really good!!

I hope this helps!! Please note, my game is pretty laggy. Some of these mods may also conflict with other mods. WonderfulWhims, Woohoo Wellness and/or MCCC together mess up the odds of pregnancy. For me sims got pregnant almost 100% of the time even though the odds were supposed to be 17% for Risky Woohoo. So if you have those together be aware that your sims will likely get pregnant way more often than usual. That's why I use a dice roll for my pregnancies now.

I actually use dice rolls for a lot of things, which also makes things more exciting and adds a bit of randomness to the game.

#sims 4 #sims 4 mods #bacc ask #ask me anything #ask reply

[incarnateirony]

15.15: The Absent Mother

I’ve had to take a great deal of time to pull my thoughts together on this episode because it was so MUCH. I’ve said in the past that I wasn’t a fan of Davy; he often layered his things very thinly. But today was a masterfully interwoven piece to the point I literally watched another show for an hour while thinking about it, went and took a shower for half an hour to scrub my head clean, and came back to this and STILL sat to write about it.

So if you’re new to my meta, I’m going to break the ice. You need to read my The Generational Family post to dip your toes in. It speaks in plain english things that will be less-plain english in this post.

If you’re less-new to my meta, but often floating in the occult references, I’m going to try to drop links to posts or tag folders of references.

But what a fantastic salute to the Empress this entire episode is.

Now let’s dive in.

It’s no secret my blog bangs on about arcana on the regular. I have spoken of the four colors (represented in the above gif but also frequenting the #hues of involution tag). 

Frankly, I consider it invariable that the brother focused episode will summon forth The Emperor as a key focus. Somewhere in that chaos binder of tags I even predicted that much when I saw the color themes of the episode, but that’s a whole other aside--just something to put a pin in the idea of while I speak of the Empress, and the Generational Family.

(15.16 update: hahahahah)

I’ve gone feral

BACK TO ORIGINAL 15.15 POST

Some time back I had made a post about Castiel’s tie to this path; be that his frequent association with Mary over time (be it storyline parallels in general arc, John and Mary’s meeting, mixtapes or whatever else); that he and Rowena served as mirror and foil from her earliest conception, back when his parental storylines hovered more in regret over Claire; that Amara and her forced bond were associations of the profound bond and many lines directly mirrored while other motions challenged each other (Eg, heart tie, profound bond>mark bond);

I even made a joke at one point that Castiel should wear a pink trenchcoat to match Rowena’s dress.

This, of course, I joked equally was absurd, and that we would probably have to settle for the violet-pink light of Death on both him and Dean in 15.13′s alchemical Marriage of the Minds.

This Marriage of the Minds you’ll find plenty of topic on for my blog, and all in association with the Art arcana, from which the Occultum is drawn to begin with in its concept. This may seem like a long drift aside from the episode itself, but is more a preface of discussion based reminders.

Either way, @meta-mania-spn​ outright trolled in to my trenchcoat joke with this when it was released, saying “here’s your pink trenchcoat.”

And how on point you were!

But I’m going to have to ask fandom to do me a favor before we continue any further in this discussion.

I’m going to need you to stop trying to shove everything in singular boxes applicable to one and only-one storyline. Go back to the Generational Family post. Make sure that’s anchored like, in your subconscious at this point. Know it, feel it. 

Okay, now we can continue.

Hah hah “You’re standing in The Trap zone.” Okay.

So obviously, we have two major story ends going on right now: On the one hand, Sam and Dean go have a discussion to Amara where they plan to lie to her to pull off a stunt against Chuck; on the other hand, we have Castiel and Jack working a case. This seems simple enough in our structure.

Amara’s face of this ends up being entirely reflection. Of her cosmogenic origins (”We are the same.”), We Are Twins (I point to Thoth’s use of the twins in generational storytelling), etc. Of her history with Dean. Of her reasons of bringing Mary back.

Fandom may not like her reasons for bringing Mary back. They may even hate them. And we’ll get back to this later, but this is the sum of this.

On the other hand, Cas and Jack think a demon is involved. They even summon one. Turns out Rowena, in taking over hell, has adopted a new system. No more tricking and damning souls. People end up where they belong. The demon is bored (which has a funny shout out at the end on him trying to find a new purpose--as a cop, which is about six levels of commentary but I digress), but the continued path of Rowena renovating hell from welcome meetings for damned souls to lack of intentionally dragging others down is made clear, while evoked.

I point back to Rowena’s own history: at one point she aspired for power, but after Funeralia, she was stricken with guilt and grief over feeling like she abandoned her son. This is a thread that I have tried to put in videos over time as a still-binding tie; Castiel staring into Belphegor’s husked out eyes at one point, even if it wasn’t really his fault, just as we lost Rowena who went to essentially reclaim her son’s legacy and throne since she couldn’t atone for his loss.

But then we get to the case. It’s a whole long adventure, much of which has some bog-standard casework; we do have Castiel coming to speak that he found new meaning in becoming a parent (rolling back to the parental thread), and there’s a bunch of great imagery we’ll cover below. But before we get to that, let’s focus on the resolution.

It reveals a broken family structure: Mother was sick and felt shoved away, Father Changed Things, and the child ended up on a destructive path about following god.

Now when I talk about not boxing things in on one level, I’m going to break down this family a bit.  We’ll also just totes ignore the Joseph-the-Carpenter tattoo on the pastor that clearly has NOTHING to do with Joseph behind Dean only an episode ago and the entire Emperor theme with the sun behind his head. After the whole Mary behind Cas thing. Nope, nothing to see here. Has NOTHING to do with the generational stuff I’m about to talk below. That’d be silly right?

You also have to think of it this way. If Pastor Joe (yes that’s his FKING name) a parallel, so is his dead wife. There are levels where it was felt she was mocked, and pushed away, which tied into Amara this episode. You have your Chuck and Amara level parallel. However, on the emotional level, the mother figure that Castiel actually ends up representing is also coming due to be absent. And this is about the father's atonement with that just as much as it is with Dean having his dialogue with Amara.

On many levels. Dean and Amara’s dialogue trades of old grudges, old motivations, but also current events and learning to live in the now. 

The child, however, was still stuck in the past--a past the mother who told her to believe in God seemed to want, but the same kind of duty Castiel became aware of needing to change in the past. But she got stuck in it.

While she judged people by their sins, Jack and Castiel end up finding the poor unfortunate man judged by Lust, after an entire aside Castiel had with the pastor about one of the victims struggling as a gay man and what-not; For Reasons(TM). But this is an arcana post, not a “point out the obvious fucking screaming queer text and subtext being put in blinker lights this episode” post, so I’m going to generally show that the misguided and wrathful child thought she was carrying out God’s will.

And then I direct you to my Lust tag.

I have far longer stuff on it, but if you skim, you’ll find the loudest message is about not letting a wrathful god judge or punish you for sins. It involves the Whore of Babylon as a symbol of power riding a beast that represented (Aleister) Crowley; or in this case, Rowena riding Crowley to power, but also birthing and rearranging a new world. I point back to the demon in question, and then I gesture to the stuff about Castiel’s impending storyline overlap.

Did other sins get punished, sure; the one girl got greed, for example. If you check my posts on the Lust topic, there are other forms of debauch actually associated with lust beyond just carnal lovers, but the message about ignoring god’s wrath and making the new world remains in-tact.

This is the kind of wrath enacted by the girl. Who is furious about how the aeon changed. Because you changed everything, dad. They don’t worship God, they worship You.

So here’s the fun question: Is this a child of man furious that man is no longer the true god because Chuck in the corrupted Emperor path has changed the world to his whims, just flipped? That is to say, that they no longer see the Shadow as The One True God? Or is this someone throwing a tantrum on Chuck’s behest that the world of man is being reclaimed? Or is it a generalized moral of all of these things contingent on the choices The Ones -- Sam and Dean -- make moving forward? And what of Jack inevitably feeling like he has to do Dean’s commands, with the task laid out to destroy God as mapped by Death, in the inevitable absence of Castiel?

Now this has drifted a wide-berth from speaking of the Empress herself, which I’ll roll back to. I had mentioned, for example, the pink. So let’s talk about why that is.

The Empress is the Matron. While she goes through many forms, this is sort of the central or individualized one. She represents a fertility in preparing to birth the new world. She holds a blossom, she takes a pose I’m not gonna bother breaking down in this post, and she is crowned in a sphere that is passed to her from the Emperor which she will wear until the next aeon from their union is born.

She is represented by the moon, and though her child will eventually become the new sun it must first be the earth, her emperor is her current sun; the son is the reflection of the father in the eyes of the mother; the Empress Moon lets the Emperor Sun shine on her face and brings life to the earth in their union, and again, I point back to the Marriage of the Minds post.

Now, see that bird in the corner? That’s a pelican. It’s frequently associated in old alchemy as the mother giving her life, as part of the birthing process is also death, for her next generation. I have spoken in the past that Byzantium itself is an ideal example of that. The pelican has intensive alchemical implications, but it was believed she “fed her child from her own heart.”

Okay cool so there’s just a bleeding heart right there while Jack struggles with feeling like he has to deal with this alone, while Castiel tries to insist he doesn’t, with the renegade child taking it upon herself to carry out god’s work and essentially going mad/bad. Castiel not wanting to let that all fall on Jack.

There’s also giant posters about THE WORLD and a mirror shadow Safe Place poster which I’m not even going to talk on much beyond gesturing vaguely at my Shadow tag and Universe tag and move on, but I will take particular note of the hands reaching out to Cas and the world as a vague gesture to once again stick a pin in.

I mean there’s a few other themes I’m going to point out for general notes: hearts everywhere,

Some stuff on Day and Night and hands all over/handholding, which I’ll point to my talk on Absence for false dichotomies

And an admittedly offtopical “lmao fuck this news screen”

But with that, I move forward:

The child here was dressed almost EERILY like Mrs Butters, for the record. And uh-- /wore her cross upside down/

They both kind of represent the same thing of misguided ideals, though Mrs Butters proved able to be reasoned with at the end and went to go return to nature where she belonged, just as man should return to his place some day free of god’s machinations; but she didn’t break her cycle and her fate is to be decided after this by court and what-not, which.. you know, fine.

But that’s a note worth passing re: Mrs Butters, but again, it needs to fall to generational; child vs parent, with Mrs Butters being the lightly lamia-associated elder who lost her sons and went mad trying to protect them according to how she had been commanded, just like this story, too, comes to misguided commands in absence.

Add in of course that Butters pointed out Jack was “too much like his father”. This, of course, was a shot at Lucifer in a way, but the serpent she evoked isn’t truly symbolic of Lucifer in our show, it’s about humanity. And uh, who is synonymous synced to in SPN? Even ignoring the relevance of the serpent to the Emperor? 

Throughout this episode, Jack waltzes around imprinted on habits from Dean, taking on the weight of the world, sacrifice, doing it alone, and inevitably, small bursts of anger.

While... Amara tracks and polka dances sideways across the Mary issue of idealizations vs realities, of the Now being more important than the Then. Fandom gets stuck on how unfair it was to Dean and considers it torture which, human perspective, fair. But Amara isn’t thinking on your human level. In fact she very loudly flags around how Dean (and frankly, the audience) doesn’t properly perceive the scope of what she even is. 

Castiel, driving home, continues to try to be an improved parent. He talks with Jack, and tries to tell him he doesn’t have to do this alone. But Jack is stuck in that rut, and it’s a rut Castiel knows too well. He’s walked these paths and the audience has walked these paths and he can’t let the child handle this alone, though Jack declares it isn’t his choice. Jack has surrendered to what he believes Death commands of him, what the job is.

It’s going to be about choice.

But right now, Jack is too much like his father. And I point back to the Moon, who lets the Sun shine on her face, perceiving the world as a reflection of the Father, of Soul in the eyes of the Mind. This is the path to teach their son to avoid just as much.

Meanwhile, Castiel is punched in the FACE basically by Jack saying not to tell Sam and Dean he’s turning into Soul Bomb Take 2. He doesn’t want to worry them over something he can’t do anything about. Congratulations, Castiel is now living the mirror of Jack knowing the Empty deal and Sam and Dean not being told, and you can SEE the reality of it ALL slam him in the face. Not just because Jack blowing up would negate the point of his sacrifice; I don’t know if that even really plinks his mental armor; but the actual magnitude of that kind of secret.

Burying my clown brain’s fierce desire to talk at length of small details like Cas opting not to wake Dean up in the room, we see a recursion-yet-subversion at the end. 

We cut off, here, abruptly. In context of the episode, we know Castiel has at least learned one lesson and is going to try to tell Dean about his deal. But on some level, this all enmeshes thoroughly to Castiel’s Empty deal. Do I think Cas is going to tell the Empty deal in 16? No, I’m gonna guess on some level Sam gets his hands on it around 17 maybe, or nobody at all finds out--or at least Dean himself doesn’t find out--until 18.

In that time they *still* will not have stopped Chuck, that won’t be until 19. So I really wish this arm flailing about “oh god they’re making it all about Cas saving Jack and then dropping it!” would stop because man guys, I’m tired, I’ve been writing you the roadmap on this for two years and haven’t failed yet, pls listen.

Even after episode 18, Castiel’s role is inevitably going to be to take the burden from Jack. ...And Dean will too, but you won’t really even start to wrap your heads around the how and the why until at *least* 16 covers the Emperor path better in scale of the generational family. That’s going to be a joint thing.

Yes, I’m saying that’s going to be a joint thing after the Empty.

The show has taken a highlighter repeatedly to the fact that Jack was neither ready to rule or remove Chuck and that it was all a bad idea. Like “Then who?!” yes HMMM WHO. 

Who is sitting here following the path of all of these individuals in this very episode? Do I need to gesture people to literal years of Castiel being associated with every one of these women’s central stories in my meta, make everyone read literal compendiums of it to get the where and why, or is it at least enough in the collective subconscious to be recognized?

What is Rowena doing? What is Rowena doing, right now? She unbirthed an entire realm and is restructuring it; where people go only where they deserve to go, where they aren’t as boxed in but certainly aren’t out there being shitheads for the sake of being shitheads. But man, if only there was SOME ONE ELSE lined up on this whole lunar path, somewhere, with these women.

(For more on the blossom, see my Albedo tag)

For the full context and, frankly, mental breakdowns about 15.13 and what all that amounted to, I point you to the tags I linked above in discussion and lead-in to this post, because I’m not going to re-tread that ground right now.

But Castiel’s deal has always been about saving Jack. Castiel has been the Empress all year and before it. He will continue to be the empress, symbolized as feeding her young from her own heart, and--well, like that above gif (and also like 15.09, but with Sam in that generational rotation), receiving the sphere from the Emperor (Dean) and passing it to the new aeon to be reborn. Jack is the new Aeon. the mother will protect this at any cost.

But I don’t know why fandom pole vaults into assuming then that the Emperor suddenly has no place in this fascinatingly interwoven play. They are part of this cooperative birthing process together. Even in and beyond Death. As it is, there’s parts of Jack’s resignation that will inevitably tie to Castiel with Dean in 18.

As always, the case is a warning tale, but just what side of it you take really depends on where the characters choose to step. Is it a warning of man stepping away from god or god changing the rules on man? 

Even Amara’s message is multifaceted: Knowing when to walk away on your own path is not the same as betraying someone. And it’s only going to be by Dean’s manipulation that she would consider it, while he is in fact lying to her; but that’s NOT going to come without a long term price. And frankly, is itself a message for the endgame of this show, with some people thinking taking ones’ own path is tantamount to betrayal. It is not. But what matters it the truth. And the choice. And remembering that we all have a choice.

And what of Cas, after the Empty then?

My soul went to heaven, big surprise.

In order to be in the Occultum, the Occultum must be in you.

To know what he, himself, is also worth, Castiel will have to make that place within himself. And that will also be the place for his child, and his family, and humankind as he has come to adopt as his people.

...But there was a two step phase to that spell and I remind you Rowena wasn’t alone in that image.

The pink of fertile rebirth.

For more on the Empress, click here. 

Anyway

#CASTIELSUTERUS2020

#supernatural #spn #empress #lust #amara #castiel #rowena #mary winchester #15.15 #15x15

[steepgan]

someone dear (i) — d. ragnvindr x f!reader

PART I - PART II - PART III

bye i created this on a whim ive always wanted to write an mc who just likes money yet still carries the “happiness/freedom” ideals of mondstadt.. essentially its an mc whos like hell yeah i love money <3 and fun..!!! okay also i did not edit this at all i was just like <3 writing time baby..

Of course, working for the wealthiest gentleman in Mondstadt was no easy task. There were two places you could work: Dawn Winery or Angel’s Share. The winery, settled in the countryside, was a cozy job with friendly workers who saw rolling hills of green every day; however, the only available occupation within your skillset was being a maid. So you worked at Angel’s Share which was planted in the city, and there you were greeted with weary workers and angry people. It was plenty more fun, anyway.

Your boss was as impassive as a tree, giving you your pay and leaving you be. He kept a strange emotional distance. Which was fine. Totally fine. But whenever you wanted a raise, his aloof attitude warded you off and you’d tell yourself you’d try next time.

Growing up in a household where money was a prominent figure in your life, you had materialistic values and a great love for money. So during your employment at the tavern, you picked up more shifts than anyone else and seldom splurged. You were stuck giving your laments to your friends and returning customers who were kind enough to humor wails.

“One of these days, Lisa, I’m actually going to lose it,” you said to the librarian of the knights. You slumped your body on the bar, clearly in a professional fashion. “What do you want to drink?”

Lisa gave you a pitying look. “You could always become a knight or an adventurer. They receive plenty of pay through commissions.”

“No, thank you! I kind of want to live.”

“I don’t think I’ll have anything to drink,” Lisa said. She laughed at your sullen expression. “Today, at least. I have to explore these ruins later today. I really, really don’t want to, but Jean is making me.”

You slid a tin can labelled TIPS to Lisa. “Every time you don’t want to do something it’s five mora.”

“Since when did this become a thing?”

“It’s always been a thing. I was just giving you a family-friend discount up until now.”

Lisa dropped the coins into the can. You smiled at the sound of click-clank. Lisa rested her cheek on the palm of her hand and said, “have you ever thought about… not working for the tavern? I’m sure there are other places in the world that’ll appreciate your pleasant company.”

“Yeah, but Master Diluc pays the best in Mondstadt if you don’t have a decent education under your belt,” you said dryly. “I’d have to travel out of Mondstadt to find a better opportunity.”

“There’s always the cathedral,” Lisa offered. 

“Do you see me as a devout follower to any god other than money? [Name], Humble Follower of Barbatos Since The Beginning! Engrave that on my tombstone, would you?”

“I don’t really want to do that.”

You pushed the tin can toward the librarian.

Lo and behold, the man of the hour strutted in with his typical apathy. If he carried himself with a more open chest and with his chin up, you’d find him more agreeable, more approachable. He’d be knightly, even. But Diluc hated knights. He hated small talk, too. He hated a lot of things.

He was a man of good looks and good fortune, in addition to being Mondstradt’s most eligible brooding bachelor bastard, donning a nice black coat with golden trimmings and tassels. A coat that’d fetch a nice price if you were to pawn it off. Not that you were thinking about selling your boss’ clothes. He stood at a decent height with his vermillion messy hair tied back and narrow eyes framed with thick lashes. 

When Diluc walked through the doors, he didn’t spare you a glance before climbing up the stairs to deal with some other matters. As long as you did your job, he didn’t bother you.

Lisa whistled. “He’s so cold.”

“Pays well, though,” you murmured absentmindedly. Lisa looked as if she wanted to say something. Maybe it was something about how money didn’t exactly suffice for human relationships. Or something about her future job for the knights. Whatever was on the tip of her tongue, she chose not to say it, and dropped a few more mora coins into your little tin can.

Your relationship with Diluc was strange. You took enough shifts to be one of the most well-compensated workers under him, but you didn’t exactly know Diluc outside of his cool exterior. You didn’t know if you’d wanted to, either. Some nights, he’d come home right before the tavern’s opening, his clothes tattered and dirty and a grim feature coating his pretty features.

Typically you’d be working and cleaning, and you’d nod to him. Diluc would then take off to the second floor of the tavern. You never questioned it. You never would, either, unless you were paid to do so. 

One late night, it was just you cleaning up for the night and Diluc sitting at the bar, going through some papers. Diluc offered to take Charles’ shift for the day, to which the man was grateful for. As you were wiping down the bar, Diluc said, “I never knew we had a tip jar.”

“It’s an ongoing gag with Lisa,” you said. “Please don’t mind it.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly. It was a joke with Lisa! You simply kept it out on the counter for every customer to see all day and all night. If they happen to drop mora in there for your charming smile and excellent service, who were you to stop them?

Diluc said nothing. You hadn’t expected him to. He’d let it slide, you supposed. If the tavern had a best employee of the month award, you would have won it consecutively for the last few years you’d been employed under the pretty man. However, Diluc was no great lover of trivial awards that were actually poorly concealed incentives, and as long as you were paid accordingly, you didn’t care about awards, either.

“If you needed a raise then say it,” he said suddenly. And you were surprised.

“Thank you,” you said.

“No need.”

When you left the tavern you squealed. Patton, the caller, awoke from his nap from a chair supposedly for customers. His legs had been propped on the accompanying table, which you had cleaned earlier so you didn’t have to deal with a certain customer who had too much to drink inside.

Patton rubbed his eyes groggily. “What’s up, [Name]?”

“I got a raise!” you exclaimed. “I’m so happy I could kiss you right now, Patton.”

“Please don’t,” he said. “What’s that in your hand?”

“Oh, leftovers.” You gave the small bag you were holding a good jostle. “It’s for the dog up there. I have a habit of feeding him every once in a while whenever there’s good scraps.”

Patton eyed you. “If you get bit and infected with rabies, maybe I’ll take your raise. Try and pet it for me, would you?”

“In your dreams, Patton.”

After a few taunts and banter, you left Patton alone. In a few hours, you’d come back to the tavern to work more. Before your mom had been hospitalized, you’d maybe put your extra money to treat yourself to Good Hunter or to buy new clothes. 

Of course, while money was one of your many goals, you had other aspirations as well. More than anything, you’d like to resume a humble life in Mondstadt. If you could afford it, then you’d travel to Liyue and sightsee. And then maybe a little further. But you’d always return to Mondstadt. It was just home to you, and you liked home.

You crouched and fed the dog. He pressed his snout into your palm, warm and comforting. You giggled and finished the leftovers from your little sack. As much as Patton wanted you to die of infection, the dog was very tame and kind toward you. He let you brush his fur and scratch behind his ears. If you had enough patience and enough time, you’d teach him to bite Patton.

The next day, you were working with Charles, as per usual. He’d been working here far longer than any of you. You’d been employed here for a while now, and you’d come to know the man quite well after rowdy nights and quiet days in the tavern. He despised a drunk customer as much as you, but whenever you were on shift with him, he always offered to take care of it.

If not you, then Charles would get the nonexistent employee of the year award.

“Just put up a work wanted poster,” Charles said, cleaning a glass. “Judging by our usuals, we won’t get an honest inquiry for it in a while.”

You, who’d been making an apple cider, said, “oh, for the boars?” While you did want to work at the winery for its pleasant view and people, there were boars who’d been uprooting vines and you did not want to tussle with a boar. 

“Say, [Name], you heard of the Darknight Hero?”

“Who hasn’t?” you asked. “My friends talk about him all the time. Everyone likes a good mystery around these parts. Have you seen the library? Oh, and the idea of him being handsome isn’t that bad… Do you think he’s rich, Charles?”

Charles snorted. “If he can afford to leave at night to protect Mondstadt, then he must be rich. He’s no worker like us, but he’s definitely noteworthy. He may as well just be an urban rumor, though, so don’t go around trying to seduce him only to get into his pockets.”

“I would never!”

“I saw you make eyes at a customer who was wearing very fine jewelry that could be pawned off for a high price.”

“I liked her eyes. They were kind. Reminded me of a princess from a fairytale.”

Diluc came from upstairs to the first floor. He was the same as he’d always been—closed off, calm, and collected. Fitting. He cast a quick glance at you and Charles before disappearing outside onto the streets of Mondstadt.

“That’s Master Diluc for you,” Charles said. “So elusive you could call him a ghost. A handsome, ghost, that is.”

“I barely know anything about him,” you said. “Elusive is correct, if not absolutely distant.”

“Really? You should talk to him more often.”

There was already a set difference between you and Charles. Firstly, it would be the years working at Angel’s Share. Charles knew Diluc more than you did. You wanted to point this out, but instead you slumped your shoulders. “He’s just so unapproachable, Charles. You wouldn’t understand. That mustache of yours makes you look amicable and agreeable.”

Charles self-consciously twirled the end of his mustache. He looked as if he wanted to say something. He turned back to his work, setting the clean glass down. “You and Master Diluc seem to complement each other, that’s all.”

You were very friendly and a good person underneath all your materialistic values. Had it not been for Diluc’s offstandish personality, maybe you and Diluc would be a little more than boss and employee. Maybe you and Diluc would be friends.

Of course, your main focus was your happiness and sanity. If you’d interacted with Diluc outside of work, you might’ve gone insane. Oh! And money. It was always money. You watched a customer drop a few mora into the tip jar.

PART I - PART II - PART III

#diluc #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact diluc #x reader #PLEASEEEE IM LOSING IT ITS ACTUALLY SO BAD IM NOT HAPPY AT ALL #genshin impact fluff

[black-streak]

Little Pistol - Daisy

Chapter 1

Previous Next

I'm trying to keep this in line with her canon personality to an extent here. Determined, focused, conniving and scheming. A little obsessive. But also needs to give herself a little pep talk to go through with things. Let me know how I'm doing?

Btw, title is by Brand New.

LP Taglist

@zalladane @moonlightstar64 @amayakans @elmokingkong @queen-in-a-flower-crown

Permanent list

@naoryllis @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @my-name-is-michell @maribat-is-lifeblood @dast218 @novicevoice @shizukiryuu @princess-of-fangirls @bigpicklebananatree @pirats-pizzacanninibles @abrx2002 @breemeister @darkthunder1589 @thestressmademedoit @severelyenchantedwonderland @isabellemasen @multi-fandom-freak0221 @fantasyloversblog @bzz75 @cloudiedraws @jardimazul @orbitsvt @gingerdaile @sotheresthatthought @kadmeread @novaloptr @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @crazylittlemunchkin @18-fandoms-unite-08 @tiny-goddess-of-chaos

~---~

Convincing a miniaturized pocket god that your intentions are sound came surprisingly easy to her.

That could be in part due to all the prior planning. Considering every possible argument the goddess could come up with and creating contingencies to match. Really though, taking out Tikki's own advice and laying it out as a perfect reasoning quieted her down quite nicely. Not that Tikki agreed with her, but the logic was too sound to push back on and the little bug never expected Marinette to come up with such thoughts without getting emotional. It just wasn't the way the girl was as far as Tikki was concerned. So it could only be taken at face value without the usual accusations of her being overdramatic.

It was an early Saturday when she voiced her thoughts.

"Hey Tikki?"

"Yes, Marinette?" the red bug looked up from her perch.

"Our biggest priority is to stop akumas and find Hawkmoth, correct?"

"Of course. You know that," she dismissed.

"So is it reasonable to say that Chat has been a hinderance to our duty?"

"How do you mean?"

"He distracts me or sits out on important battles. Threatens to quit if details that don't pertain to our purpose are withheld. He refuses to remain professional in the face of an attack."

"Well yes, he has been rather unhelpful lately, but then again, you are teenagers. It's to be expected, I suppose. Though I do wish he'd be a bit more focused," she easily agreed.

Marinette bit back a victorious smile and kept her expression closed off but for the determined, calculating expression she saved for important moments. Like now.

"In that case, it would be a good idea to make him focus any way I can. To make it easier. To hurry along the hunt for Hawkmoth."

Tikki's expression became weary as she stared at her welder, taken off guard by the open statement, "I don't know, Marinette...What did you have in mind?"

"Nothing yet, but I think I'm going to start brainstorming some ideas. Maybe do a little research. Something needs to change though," she emphasized, staring down her kwami with a hopeful, prodding look until she hesitantly nodded her agreement.

With the god's blessing, she turned to her tablet, pulling up everything she could on different heroes and their methods. Down the rabbit hole she fell.

… 

Some thirteen hours had passed and she felt the strain of her eyes and the bright burn to her retinas for the effort of her work. She refused to believe that no inspiration would come from this effort, though she'd moved on from conventional heroes and into a more sketchy territory by now, having been let down by the uptight views of others who'd obviously never been harassed or neglected by their partner and therefore wouldn't understand her need for a more, let's say, gray solution.

She'd seen the ideals of Superman and the Lanterns and the generalized view of both the Teen Titans and Justice League alike. Many worked with partners, many had betrayals or interpersonal problems. The solution they always took was for one or both parties to leave the team and travel to opposite sides of their country. Or world. Or separate worlds. Either way, avoidance was key. That didn't really work for her though. She had to stay in close contact with her partner while not truly working together. Remain civil within the same city limits. Fight side by side even. And it's not like she could just leave her responsibility here or allow Chat to go unchecked with a miraculous on his own. 

Then she stumbled upon Batman's history. The infamous bat had many a partner or sidekick with their own rough history and seemed to be operating with them regularly still. His solution to a lost or dead partner seemed to be a steady stream of replacements. Unfortunately, unlike a vigilante suit, a miraculous has to resonate with the wearer and no one she knew and trusted would fit the black cat. So she was stuck with the one.

Still though, Batman apparently had a falling out with his first Robin who became Nightwing. Those two were seen together regularly now so something must have happened to fix their issues. Gods, she was so lucky the internet seemed to stalk these people hardcore enough to have so much information on them so readily available. However, looking deeper, the resulting theories and knowledge did not bode well for her. It seems Nightwing had been in much the same state as her and with zero apologies from the Bat, had forgiven the man and resumed operations as usual. Well she was done with forgiving and forgetting. She wanted a real solution, not just rolling over and letting Chat do as he pleased! 

Alright, so Batman was the Chat Noir to the Robin's Ladybug. Maybe the others fared better?

Nope, second one died.

Current one seems to be a literal feral child out to bleed Gotham dry. Not sure how that helped, though maybe she could go just psycho enough to force Chat to be the responsible one? No, he'd just try and quit again.

Huh.

There was a third and fourth one apparently? Between the murder baby and the dead one. What happened to them?

The fourth was a blonde girl with a short stint. Seems she just moved departments since many speculated she might be a batgirl or working with a few others in the city. Not much more.

But what about the other one?

The third Robin, who worked with the Teen Titans for a stint. Who worked many years under the Bat, who gave away the title to the blonde only to return after and disappear once more with the coming of the blood toddler. What happened? Where'd he go?

…

Thousands had apparently asked the same question themselves. All signs seemed to point towards a betrayal. Something went wrong. The first resigned, the second died, the third just seemed to drop off the face of the planet. Did Batman kick him out? Replace him? For child's play, sword addition? She couldn't be sure, but it seemed the most likely guess. Much more believable than alien kidnapping or a quest for a dead man or his predecessor coming to life to end him.

But what after that? 

Surely, Marinette could've stopped there. Obviously, this wasn't the same as her situation, but she couldn't help but be so very intrigued. She watched videos of the boy in his Robin suit (much more practical than the first two if you asked her, though still slightly shameful) fighting and flying across rooftops and working with his team. He was so. So. Efficient. So clean. Ruthless when he decided to be. Calculated. Everything she ever wanted to be. 

He was amazing.

And then he disappeared.

Where did he go, that perfect Robin. How could anyone ever think the position needed an upgrade when the perfect bird was already there? It made no sense. And then she found him. Hunting through the rogues and heroes and inbetweens of Gotham, hidden in his own layerings of cover stories and identities. Her new aspiration of what a hero should be, mixed into the Anti-heroes of the city.

The vigilante of the more morally ambiguous variety, manipulating the world to the way he saw fit, using whatever method he wished. And the way he seemed to bend the city to his whim, well it matched quite well with how she wished her own city would be. She found her solution. Now it was showtime.

…

"Are you ready to apologize, m'lady?" Chat dropped down at her side, the akuma of the week tied up below them. It was a relatively easy battle, with no need for special abilities for once.

"Whatever for, Chatton?" Marinette asked, already tensing at the response she knew she'd receive. She hated when he tried to coerce her into apologizing for things that aren't her fault.

"For your neglect of your kitten, obviously."

"I don't have a kitten," she stated plainly.

"What? You wound me, to disown me so abruptly," he put a clawed hand to his chest, offense and hurt in spades marking his features.

"I can't disown what I never adopted," she went along with the analogy so he wouldn't complain about her ruining his fun again. The last thing she needed was his whining.

He perked up with this, "Well we can draw up some adoption papers right now if you wish? I'd love to be yours," he smarmed, leaning into her space further. 

This was it. Time to turn the tables. To make this work in her favor. She just needed to play it right, the way her Robin did. By manipulating the enemy into doing her bidding. She could do this.

"That's just it, though. I don't believe you would," she frowned, letting her eyes soften the way she'd seen Lila do so often. Might as well learn something from the girl.

"What? I would," he insisted, eyebrows furrowing.

"See you say that, but where's the proof? You've done nothing but pester and punish me over these weeks. You say you love me, but then watch me get hurt by akumas and make me fight all alone and threaten to leave me. That's not the actions of a loving partner. It feels like you hate me."

That had him panicking.

"No no, I don't hate you, you're my sun and my moon. My everything. Surely you know your worth in my life. I only did those things to show you how much you hurt me." He attempted to reason with her.

"See, but I've never intentionally hurt you. And always apologized to you when I realized I had. Whereas you just admitted to causing me distress as a form of punishment. It seems to me that I'm far more attached to you than you are to me and I'm just not willing to hurt myself by getting involved with someone who so obviously dislikes me."

"I- no- that's not- I love you! I didn't mean to do that, I shouldn't have. Please believe me? I love you, Ladybug," he begged, ears dropping and body tensed in fear.

"I'm sorry, but until I see some proof, I can't do that," she shook her head before taking off home without a backward glance, leaving the cat to his misery.

…

That night, Tikki went straight to bed and refused to speak to her for the next two days.

#timinette #timari #ml x dc #maribat #if she can recognize akuma victims she can recognize a costume change fight me #Dark!timinette

[maddie-grove]

Little Book Review: When a Rogue Meets His Match

Author: Elizabeth Hoyt.

Publication Date: 2020.

Genre: Historical romance (Georgian).

Premise: Aristocratic Messalina Greycourt wants nothing more than to save up enough money to leave the country with her younger sister so they can escape the clutches of their evil uncle. A wrench gets thrown in her plans, though, when her uncle forces her to marry his henchman, the intense Gideon Hawthorne. Born in poverty, Gideon has amassed wealth and aspires to join the upper class through marriage to Messalina, but mostly he has the hots for her. However, he kind of agreed to kill her brother. Can this marriage be saved? If so, what the hell is in it for Messalina?

Thoughts: A hero who does over-the-top villainous stuff and owns it can be fun. A hero who acts morally but is often a pain in the ass can be interesting and realistic. But a hero who does obvious villain shit while smugly claiming the moral high ground is insufferable, especially when the narrative seems to be on his side. Gideon, for example, demands Messalina's hand in marriage because her uncle owes him a favor. Her uncle agrees, but he'll only hand over Messalina's dowry if Gideon agrees to waste her eldest brother...which Gideon does agree to, without much hesitation. Questionable negotiation skills aside, that's some classic villain-hero nonsense. Yet, for most of the book, Gideon acts like he's holier than Messalina because she's rich and he used to be poor.

This might've worked if Messalina had worse faults than very mild rich-lady cluelessness, or if Gideon had more than a trace of altruism in his ruthless proto-capitalist soul, or if Messalina's comfort and financial security weren't legally dependent on the whims of her male family members. More important, it might've worked if Gideon hadn't forced Messalina to marry him and entered a contract to stab her brother to death. Yes, class privilege is real, but it's a little rich (lol) to shame your wife for briefly and discreetly expressing a desire to replace a cook who can barely make toast when you made her marry you so you could become even more rich and powerful. Like, is money good or is it bad? Make up your mind, Gideon!

It's surprisingly common for heroes who force heroines to marry them to get up on their moral high horse, though. Usually, this self-righteousness is related to the hero's conviction that the marriage furthers an important political goal (like promoting peaceful relations between families/factions) and that the heroine is being selfish by not committing to the arrangement wholeheartedly. This isn't a likable trait in a hero, but it has more dramatic weight, and it makes more sense than "I am going to berate you for being a typical rich lady, even though I specifically married you for your wealth so I could add dowry money to my henchman money and mine-owning money." Also, Gideon is just so stupid. The moment that really set me off was when Messalina wants him to get her some furniture to store her clothes in, and he's like, "Um, most people only have one set of clothes and they just hang them on hooks." Cool! Do they get more clothes if your wife (who does not want to be with you, and whom you married partly for money and social clout) has to stack her dresses on the floor? How did you ever make money when you have chewing gum for brains?

I can't really remember anything else about this book, but included in my edition was a very nice novella, Kelly Bowen's Night of the Scoundrel (2019). It's a Regency romance about a long-lost baron who hires an unconventional female detective to get revenge on the man who ruined his life, and I was taken aback by its emotional impact and delicate handling of trauma. The heroine, Adeline, is truly wonderful.

Hot Goodreads Take: "After three attempts on his life, Gideon starts thinking someone might want him dead," one very funny reviewer remarks. That is also such a thing with mildly to moderately irritating heroes.

#little book review #romance novels #elizabeth hoyt #when the rogue meets his match #kelly bowen #night of the scoundrel #i keep wanting to say when A rogue meets his match #or when the rogue MET his match #a forgettable title for a forgettable book #i get the sense hoyt's more interested in future protagonists

[sz-amare]

7. My Top 15 Anime List

I have watched a lot of anime in the past four years, but one thing that gives me great enjoyment is ranking my top anime. Here I will rank my top 15 favorite anime, along with some honorable mentions that couldn’t make it. However, I won’t be going too in-depth on the analyses; I just want to give you a general idea of why the particular anime is where it is on my list. In general, I rank my anime depending on a combination of factors: 1) how brilliant I find the anime to be written, 2) if the themes resonate with me, 3) if it is categorized in my favorite genres, and 4) my general enjoyment level. Anyway, to the list.

 Number 15

One Punch Man

When I first watched One Punch Man, it seemed nothing more than a mindless comedy anime. Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed it and laughed a lot, but I found it to be forgettable. But one day, I heard that the genre of One Punch Man was seinen, which made no sense to me. It had no dark and mature themes, and as I mentioned, it was nothing more than a senseless comedy. But then one day, on a whim, I watched One Punch Man again. And I REALLY enjoyed it. I still laughed a lot, but something felt different to me this time. I actually felt like I had a deep connection with each of the characters. The story seemed to be more structured and enjoyable this time, and finally, I could actually see the themes that One Punch Man was trying to explore. It made sudden sense to me that One Punch Man is indeed a seinen and that it had a lot more to it than on the surface. Of course, the difference in experience is because of my new understanding of anime and the experience I gained.

Number 14

Kenichi: The Mightiest Disciple

Kenichi: The Mightiest Disciple is probably one of the most unknown, underappreciated, and underrated anime on this list. Someone recommended it to me, and I had never heard of it, so I assumed it was a mediocre anime. But when I watched it, I had so much fun which I hadn’t felt in many months. It is a training shōnen anime where the main character tries to learn martial arts. That is all I want to say for now because I don’t want to spoil anything, so go watch it. I highly recommend it.

Number 13

A Place Further than the Universe

I don’t see many people talking much about A Place Further than the Universe. But, I must say, it is absolutely phenomenal. It is, hands down, the most inspiring anime in existence. The basic premise is a high school girl wanting to do something significant in her high school life. I won’t say anymore because, again, I don’t want to spoil this anime, and I recommend you check it out if you need inspiration in your life. Let me just say that it is now an aspiring goal of mine to visit Antarctica.

Number 12

Plastic Memories

I made a whole analysis on the previous post so go check it out. But for a quick recap, the life lesson I learned from Plastic Memories has permanently changed my behavior for the better. I found it to be the saddest anime I have ever watched.

 Number 11

Steins; Gate

Once again, I have already made an analysis on Steins; Gate, but this time I only covered the first episode. I also ranked Steins; Gate a 10/10 so that must mean that the rest of this list must contain masterpieces. But to be honest, that is not really the case. You see, to me, even if I consider something a masterpiece, the enjoyment factor plays the most significant role in ranking high on my list. For example, I found Death Note to be brilliant, but I really struggled to enjoy it and therefore, it is not ranked that highly. Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed Steins; Gate, but I just enjoyed the rest of these anime way more. Anyway, if you want to see why I loved Steins; Gate so much and why I find it so brilliant, check out blog post 4.

Number 10

Berserk (Manga)

Almost everything I found In Berserk is brilliant (except its adaptations, that’s gas station toilet). Guts is a 10/10 protagonist, Griffith is a 10/10 antagonist, the cast is a 10/10, the story is a 10/10, AND THE ART!!! Holy shit!!! I can actually picture an entire museum dedicated to each panel of Berserk.

 Again, the only reason this anime is not any higher is simply because I enjoyed the others on this list so much more. However, I am yet to review any analyses on it so there is a possibility that it will bump-up several places higher when I truly understand the brilliance behind it. Great read though!

Number 9

Haikyuu

I LOVE Haikyuu. Each season gets progressively better and better. It has a lot of controversy around it because of its fan base and because it’s a sports anime. But to be honest, I find Haikyuu to be a better shōnen than My Hero Academia, Black Clover, Jujutsu Kaisen, Demon Slayer, and most other modern shōnen anime. It has its amazing moments, its cast is amazing, the character development is amazing, the themes are amazing, and the antagonists are amazing. I am not bluffing when I say that the antagonists in a Volleyball anime are better than the antagonists in many shōnen anime (I’m going to develop haters before I can even develop fans). I plan on making an essay on what most shōnen strive for yet fail to achieve, and Haikyuu somehow delivers.

Number 8

Oregairu

Best romance. Hands down. Oregairu, or SNAFU, or My Teen Rom-Com is Not What I Expected (yes, so many titles) is a masterpiece in its own right. If you are a guy and you watched Oregairu, don’t act like you didn’t imitate Hachiman a couple times. He is a beautiful protagonist, which most of us guys relate to. His inner monologues result in us treating them as gospel. The sub-text is confusing as fuck, but end up making sense in all sorts of ways once decoded. Yukino is best girl, but man I love Yuigahama almost just as much. The general enjoyment I got out of Oregairu is so far through the roof that I once forced myself to stop watching it so that I could savor the show a little more. It is a little difficult to get into at first, but you will most likely end up enjoying it.

Number 7

Re Zero

This is the most recent addition to the list. I often don’t add anything new to my list; I just switch the places between some of them. But ever since season 2, Re Zero jumped significantly in rank. It is the best anime of 2020 (including sequels), and I enjoyed each episode to the max. I was considering adding Re Zero to my top 10 since the first half of the second season finished, but I was a bit hesitant because I am easily affected by recency bias. But my love for Re Zero would just not die down: my love for it grows after each episode airs. It is the only anime on this list that I watched weekly other than One Piece. I actually prefer watching a series I love weekly rather than binging it all, except for One Piece, pacing is constipation (slow and painful). Other than the vast enjoyment I got out of Re Zero, the main reason it made it to this list is because of the light novel comparisons I watch. Aninews is my favorite source. He compares the episode to the light novels, mentioning what was left out and further describing the emotions and thoughts of the characters. He tends to release the “Cut Content” videos a week after the episode airs, but the content and quality are incomparable. I found the videos to be so amazing I am basically just as excited for the weekly videos as the Re Zero episodes themselves. If you love Re Zero, the Cut Content series is a must watch.

The fantastic details and emotions the light novels are able to portray are stunning. I decided to read the light novels recently, but the only issue is that I am very short on time. But for each novel I complete, I will release a post on it.

Number 6

Mob Psycho

Although I said I found Haikyuu to be better than most modern shōnen, Mob Psycho is hands down the king. Its quality far surpasses all modern shōnen and a lot of older generation shōnen too. Funny thing is, I believe Mob Psycho’s primary genre is slice of life, not shōnen. I also believe it to be the best take on an overpowered protagonist. One of my favorite things is that Mob, who is the strongest esper we have seen, seems to be so weak. That is exactly how he should be portrayed; he is still a child with mental challenges that he is constantly trying to overcome. The themes that Mob Psycho explores are some of my favorites. The animation is a bit weird at first, but after watching it, you suddenly realize how brilliant it is.

(Honorable Mentions)

Attack on Titan

I am going to get a lot of hate for not including this in my top 5, let alone my top 15. Attack on Titan is still releasing episodes, so that opinion may change soon but let me be clear about one thing: Attack on Titan is a masterpiece. It is absolute greatness. The hype and enjoyment I get out of Attack on Titan are out of this world. But, a) the enjoyment feels a bit short-lived for me personally. It is a fantastic week after airing, but I tend to forget about it the next. b) Attack on Titan is simply not my type of show. Again, I do love Attack on Titan. Again, it is a masterpiece. And again, it may bump up a bit after a few episodes release, but as of now, Attack on Titan isn’t in my top 15.

(Honorable Mentions)

No Game No Life

Similar to One Punch Man, I thought No Game No Life was an anime for senseless fun and enjoyment. But then I watched the movie. The movie is canon to the light novels, but it is irrelevant to the plot and only contributes to the understanding of the world. However, since I watched that movie, I felt the world of No Game No Life to be more realistic. Of course, a world where games resolve all sorts of conflicts like war is ridiculous. But after watching the movie, that ridiculousness somehow turned to reality. The world of No Game No Life became fascinating to me, and what seemed like dumb games began to turn into political machinations.

(Honorable Mention)

Magi & Yona of the Dawn

All I have to say about these two anime is that they seemed to be very fascinating premises and concepts, but the anime sadly stops for both. I am considering reading the manga for both of them sometime soon, so this list may change once I do.

Number 5

Hunter x Hunter

If you like shōnen, I don’t see why you would hate Hiatus x Hai—I mean Hunter x Hunter. The only thing it slightly lacks is a strong main cast, which many people like anyway. Otherwise, absolute perfection. They have most of the best villains in all of anime: Hisoka, Chrollo, Meruem… How can you not love Meruem? And the way he parallels with Gon but in the opposite direction: just perfection. The arcs are hard to rank because they are all perfection in their own right. The best power system in anime is nothing short but perfection. If it weren’t for the Hiatus, it would be ranked fourth. I doubt it would scratch my top three.

Number 4

Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood

I know I kept saying perfection when talking about Hunter x Hunter, but I actually believe that Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood is the perfect series (Note: I am not saying that no one can love it and that it has to be your #1; obviously there are preferences. I’m merely saying that it perfectly crafts what it is trying to portray). The only two arguments you can bring is that the beginning is weak. But if you watch the 03 version, there are no issues whatsoever, in my eyes. Keep in mind, when I say it is the best, I mean from a narrative standpoint. Yes, the animation isn’t the greatest, and the gags are kind of bad, but from a general narrative standpoint, it is the best writing I have ever seen. The plot was brilliant and well-crafted. The world is beautifully bound by their power system: alchemy. The philosophical discussions and themes it explores always have you thinking. The characters are very likable and are all top tier characters. The mysteries keep you in a cycle of confusion and excitement. Since I love science and chemistry, alchemy was so fascinating to me. This show is definitely well-deserving of the number one rank in My Anime List.

Number 3

Kill la Kill

After listing a lot of the best anime/manga with the best stories and narratives, I can see why someone would be upset that I brought up Kill la Kill. This one is certainly the odd one out. However, remember me mentioning that the enjoyment factor is the biggest decision maker in my list placement? Kill la Kill gave me the most enjoyment out of all the anime on this list, even more significant than the obvious #1. I didn’t find anything to be all that brilliant in Kill la Kill, and I can completely understand if someone hated this particular show. But there was something about Kill la Kill that made me feel nostalgic in a weird way. It also gave me one of the weirdest yet most immense feeling of satisfaction I have ever felt. I love Kill la Kill.

Number 2

Konosuba

           Okay yeah, this one is also the odd one out, but it is a little more acceptable. I find Konosuba to be the best comedy anime of all time. Not necessarily because it is the funniest anime (I think it is the funniest but comedy is subjective), but instead because, unlike most comedies, like Nichijo, the characters in Konosuba are absolutely brilliant. Kazuma is one of my favorite characters of all time, Megumi is best girl, but I still love both Darkness and Aqua. Their interactions are absolutely entertaining on both a comedic scale and a general enjoyment scale. Their assholeish-type relationship reflects my relationship with my friends (we are complete assholes to each other, but we also love one another).

Not only that but from the comedy focused anime that I have watched, the plot in this one is actually delightful. The Konosuba movie is my favorite movie of all time, right after A Silent Voice.

Number 1

One Piece

If you read a couple of my previous posts or recognized my profile picture, you probably knew that One Piece is my favorite anime of all time. My love for One Piece is so extensive that I would rather forget all my experiences with anime than forget my experience with One Piece. One Piece inspired me and changed my life. Not in the typical way where I learned a life lesson from the story like Plastic Memories, but simply because I found the writing to be so brilliant. So it was more that Eiichiro Oda, the author of One Piece, inspired me. The characters are the best I have ever seen, the villains are well crafted, the world-building is literally the best in all of fiction, the build-up is fascinating, the questions from the mysteries somehow keep piling over, the symbolism fleshes out aspects of the anime even more, the backstories make characters more relatable and understandable, the general dynamic flow of the world feels like reality, the themes it explores are great learning experiences, the originality never ends, the hype moments keep you energetic for more, the foreshadowing is so phenomenal to the extent where it shouldn’t exist, and the general planning of the story makes it obvious how amazing of an author Eiichiro Oda is.

This series has been airing weekly for nearly 22 years now, the manga for 25. How in the world is Oda able to create this monster of a story, planning certain elements a decade or two in advance? This is brilliance. This is beauty in writing. And I want nothing more than to create a masterpiece of my own.

Final Notes

Emotional, I know. I believe my list here is a bit diverse in terms of genre: shōnen, seinen, romance, comedy, sports, slice-of-life, and mystery. I think it’s a great thing to widen your horizons a bit by exploring various types of genres. Anyway, there are many anime I haven’t watched that could easily replace and dethrone some of the anime on this list. I plan on watching and reading Hajime no Ippo, Gintama, Vagabond, Oyasumi Pun Pun, I”s, etc. I heard these anime/manga are considered the best for their respective genres by many people, and I will probably finish reading and watching these anime/manga in about six months. So I will make a top 15 anime list once again around that time.

If you have any questions or you want to discuss something, feel free to ask in the “Ask Me Anything” tab on my Tumblr page.

#anime #animelove #otaku #animeblogpost #animelist #manga #mangalove #onepunchman #history's strongest disciple kenichi #plasticmemories #a place further than the universe #steinsgate #berserk #haikyuu #orgairu #re zero #mob psycho 100 #attack on titan #no game no life #magi #yona of the dawn #hunterxhunter #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #kill la kill #konosuba #one piece

[chillyravenart]

Thoughts on Seara Targaryen?

I've mentioned this briefly here but let me add a few more of my thoughts.

I feel like Saera is treated like some faultless feminist icon in the fandom (how surprising lmao) but let's be absolutely real here: she was a spoilt, headstrong princess who was never going to cave into societal/parental pressure. I’m personally not a fan at all but I want to list a few things about her personality and upbringing that may be of some use in understanding her better. Forgive my rambling in advance!

Princess Saera, three years younger, was a trial from the very start; tempestuous, demanding, disobedient. The first word she spoke was no, and she said it often and loudly. She refused to be weaned until past the age of four. Even as she ran about the castle, talking more than her siblings Vaegon and Daella combined, she wanted her mother’s milk, and raged and screamed whenever the queen dismissed another wetnurse. “Seven save us,” Alysanne whispered to the king one night, “when I look at her I see Aerea.” 

Not to forget, George loves hitting characters where it hurts and that's through their children. And George went in particularly hard with Jaehaerys and Alysanne's children. I absolutely adore the older bunch, Aemon, Baelon, Alyssa... but the younger bunch didn’t exactly speak to me the same way. I suppose with so many children, it was natural to have a few bad eggs, and Saera was one of them. Jaehaerys spoilt her as child and she grew up to be very bright but also had a cruel streak too. 

... and long before she was half-grown, Saera had learned the art of getting anything she wanted from her father: a kitten, a hound, a pony, a hawk, a horse (Jaehaerys did draw a firm line at the elephant). Queen Alysanne was far less gullible, however, and Septon Barth tells us that Saera’s sisters all misliked her to various degrees.

The border between innocent pranks, wanton mischief, and acts of malice is not always discerned by one so young, but there can be no doubt that the princess crossed it freely.

Septon Barth also commented on Saera’s disposition, and her hunger for the attention her older siblings received:

“She is the king’s daughter, and well aware of it. Servants see to her every need, though not always as quickly as she might like... If she were the king’s firstborn, or better still his only child, she would be well content. Instead she finds herself the ninthborn, with six living siblings who are older than her and even more adored.”

Saera pranked her sister Daella with cats and bees, dyed the KG cloaks pink, and would show up drunk to the sept for prayers. And since Saera had every whim granted to her, it's natural that she would want more from the world and succeeded in carving out her own kingdom across the Narrow Sea. I definitely don't think she would have been content with living a normal life in Westeros, married to some lord and running his house.

“She wants what she wants and she wants it now,” Grand Maester Elysar wrote of the princess in 69 AC, when she was only two. “Seven save us all when she is older. The Dragonkeepers had best lock up the dragons.” He had no notion how prophetic those words would be.

At fourteen, she told the king she meant to marry the Prince of Dorne, or perhaps the King Beyond the Wall, so she could be a queen “like Mother.”

By fifteen, Saera had other ideas however.

Why dream of distant monarchs when she could have as many squires, knights, and likely lords as she desired? Dozens danced attendance on her, but three soon emerged as favorites. Jonah Mooton was the heir to Maidenpool, Red Roy Connington was the fifteen-year-old Lord of Griffin’s Roost, and Braxton Beesbury, called Stinger, was a nineteen-year-old knight, the finest lance in the Reach...

And initially it was Queen Alysanne who voiced her dismay regarding Saera’s behaviour with her newly acquired suitors. “Saera is clever, but not wise” and she also criticised her choice of female companions as well as Beesbury/Stinger who was rumoured to have sired a bastard. However Jaehaerys brushed it off unconcerned that she would get up to any mischief at court with so many watching eyes. Unfortunately, he was wrong.

Then came the incident at the Blue Pearl with Tom Turnip, and her three favourite lordlings (including Stinger who later fought Jaehaerys in his trial by combat) which made matters worse. I highly doubt any other noble lord would have been ok with his daughter cavorting with household knights in a brothel- least of all a KING. When questioned about her actions, Saera really didn’t do herself any favours:

I could marry all three of them, why not? Why should I have just one husband? The Conqueror had two wives, and Maegor had six or eight.” She had gone too far. Jaehaerys rose to his feet and descended from the Iron Throne, his face a mask of rage. “You would compare yourself to Maegor? Is that who you aspire to be?”

After the horrors Jaehaerys and his siblings had endured under Maegor, it’s no wonder he was so shaken by her blase attitude. And again, Alysanne was able to soften his anger and reconcile him to forgive Saera, but she ran away that very night and tried to steal a dragon which sealed her fate.

Alysanne wept when she heard, for she knew her cause was hopeless. Jaehaerys was hard as stone. “Saera with a dragon,” was all he had to say. “Would she have taken Balerion as well, I wonder?”

One of my favourite aspects of this whole saga was Jaehaerys fighting Stinger for her honour, "This old man," just takes me out every single time. Forty-nine year old Jae, taking out nineteen year old Beesbury just reminds me too much of Daemon vs Aemond - WHY ARE FORTY-NINE YEAR OLD TARG MEN SO BADASS?

I also understand that Saera was a plot device to add filial conflict to Jaehaerys’ reign, after all a successful king doesn’t always make a successful father. Jaehaerys was the quintessential medieval monarch with a kingdom to run and keep in order after a very volatile period and Saera was a royal princess and expected to uphold those standards. As Grand Maester Elysar put it, “He was better with roads than with daughters.” I think Jaehaerys had his flaws for sure, but again, this is asoiaf and I really don’t understand how people expect paternal relationships to be as open and affectionate as they are today- seriously look at how fatherhood has evolved in the last fifty years alone and tell me a medieval king would have been braiding his daughter’s hair and having heart-to-hearts with her. He could have done more to understand her, but then we wouldn’t have this embittered storyline and everything would be hunky-dory. That’s not how GRRM works unfortunately.

I am certain Jaehaerys had loved her as a daughter, and her actions had caused him pain which had hardened his heart at the time. But it is also apparent later on that Jaehaerys was hit hard by this event and also mistook Alic*nt for Saera on his sickbed. I also feel heartbroken for Alysanne who lost so many of her children and felt Saera's loss very acutely too. She also became withdrawn and was clearly shaken by all the losses she had endured.

The years had taken their toll on him, and those who knew him well said that he was never the same after his daughter Saera had disgraced and then abandoned him. He had grown thinner, almost gaunt, and there was more grey than gold in his beard now, and in his hair.

The Old King sometimes mistook her for one of his daughters, calling her by their names; near the end, he grew certain she was his daughter Saera, returned to him from beyond the narrow sea.

Anyway I am glad Saera got to set up her own empire and lifestyle (Hot Girl Saera ™), she is arguably the first Targaryen entrepreneur of sorts too. She is most certainly not the feminist kween this fandom treats her as IMO, raise ya standards! Ultimately I wouldn't say I'm a fan mainly because her character didn’t appeal to me, particularly when I read Fire and Blood. Besides, Saera’s domain lies outside my circle of interest and I'm more concerned with what happens to subsequent characters in Westeros.

Hope that answered your question!

#saera targaryen #asoiaf #fire and blood #jaehaerys i targaryen #anon asks #chillyravenart answers

[dothwrites]

@redridinghood03 requested Destiel baking together with a flour war. <3

---

It’s an odd sort of life for a hunter when the worst catastrophe of the day is finding Cas trying to do things in the kitchen. 

“Thought we agreed that you weren’t going to experiment anymore,” Dean says, cautiously, because it’s 11am, which is still an hour before Cas is considered fully human. Antagonizing Cas at this hour, when a quick glance at the coffee maker tells him that the former angel is only a cup and a half deep, is a ballsy measure, but Dean didn’t get to his advanced age by playing safe. “Or that you would at least bring along an adventure buddy.” 

Cas doesn’t deign to look at him as he studies the flour spread out across the countertop with toddler like intensity. 

“Dean, when the ancestors of humanity’s ancestors were still swimming in the oceans, I was already a garrison commander,” Castiel says, and yeah, Dean made him mad. That’s a definite pissy tone in his voice. 

“All right grouchy, no need to brag.” 

Cas just grunts at him. Throwing caution to the winds, Dean creeps forward, enough that he can see the sad looking lump of...something...in the mixing bowl. 

“So uh...we’re having...” Dean’s nose wrinkles as he looks at the greyish lump congealing in the stainless steel bowl. He feels as though he should look away, just so this monstrosity can pass from the world in some kind of peace. At his elbow, he can feel the slow burn of Cas’ irritation. “Gruel?” he finally guesses. 

“I’ll just clean it up,” Cas says. 

Thing is, Dean loves ruffling Cas’ metaphorical feathers. He loves the look that Cas gets on him, like a cat who’s just been sprayed in the face with a squirt gun and holds a grudge over it. There’s something so delightful about seeing Castiel, badass former angel of the Lord, snapping and snarling because Dean changed the channel or moved his book or inconvenienced him in any way, shape, or form. 

He’d hoped for that pissy little reaction. What he gets is so much worse. Cas’ voice is resigned as he turns to the pathetic huddle of failure in front of him. The disappointment clear in the slump of his spine rubs against some half-healed, raw spot of Dean’s, until he’s rushing forward and catching the cold goop in his hands. It’s simultaneously lumpy and unnaturally smooth and he bites back the automatic gag as the soft, sticky mess oozes through the spaces in his fingers. 

“Maybe we can save this,” he tries. It’s a pipe-dream--This is obviously beyond saving, but anything to make that disappointed look disappear from Cas’ face. “What were you trying to make anyway?” 

Cas’ face gets that squinty, shifty look that it does when he’s trying to figure out the best way to slide around the relevant facts. Out of all of humanity’s little quirks, Dean wishes that Cas hadn’t taken to lying like a duck to water, but the good news is, for the most part, Cas is pretty fucking obvious when he decides to throw a little lie in the mix. 

Case in point: right fucking now. 

“A pastry dish,” Cas finally lands on. 

Dean can’t stop his snort, which is not a good thing, because all that does is serve to piss Cas off even further. Dean asks, around his own little helpless burbles of laughter and Cas’ half-snarl, “A pastry dish? Cas, you know that making pastry is like...well, it’s hard,” he finishes lamely, Cas’ glare finally getting to him. He bumps his hips into Cas’, ignores the little shiver of delight that he gets from the action and takes Cas’ place at the counter. “You don’t do anything by halves,” Dean murmurs.

It all makes sense now: the flour, the butter, the eggs, even the sodden lump of hopeful dough in the bowl. The only thing that Dean can’t understand is why Cas would wake up with the burning need to turn contestant on a baking show. As a human, Cas is vulnerable to whims, but this is stranger than most. 

“All right.” Dean rolls up his sleeves and surveys the countertop, same way he used to look at the weapons stashed in the back of the Impala. “Tell me what we’re dealing with.” 

“I was going to make it myself.” There’s something petulant in Cas’ tone, which Dean would normally roll right over (another bit of humanity that Dean wishes Cas hadn’t caught onto so quickly was the idea of stubbornness) but what makes him stop is the ragged, raw edge of something else. He doesn’t know what it is, but it’s not just a whim, like he originally thought. For whatever reason, Cas has decided that making this stupid pastry thing matters. 

“I know.” Dean dares to lean into Cas’ space, touch his shoulder to Cas’. Something about the contact relaxes them both, lets a little breath of fresh air into the room. “But no offense, you’re going to need some help. I’m here, I’m willing...Let’s just get it done.” 

The look on Cas’ face says that he’s not thrilled with Dean’s logic, but that he also doesn’t see a logical alternative. So Dean listens as Cas rattles off the ingredients that he’ll need (human or not, Castiel has a mind like a steel trap, which comes in damn handy most times) and the basic instructions. 

The flour hits the bowl with a soft whump and sends up a little cloud everywhere. Dean blinks through it, wiping away the bit that’s gotten on his cheeks. He rubs his fingers together before he looks over at Cas. 

“Oh hell,” he says around his laughter, “you’ve got...” 

A fine patina of flour sits on Cas’ hair, nose, and shoulders. It looks like he’s been in through a snowstorm or that he has the worst case of dandruff ever. Dean can’t help but laugh because the overly dignified stare that Cas tries to defend himself with doesn’t help relieve the ridiculousness of the situation. Instead, it just adds to it, like watching a cat trying to recover its lost dignity. 

Dean’s chuckles morph into outright laughter, becoming louder and more uncontrolled the more that Castiel tries to pull his cloak of dignity around him. Finally, Cas’ facade and patience both snap and he does that which Dean was not expecting him to do. 

Dean sputters around the sudden face full of flour, spitting clouds of white away from his mouth as he snorts in small bursts. He blinks to clear his vision and looks at Cas. Cas’ face is a mixture of satisfaction, horror at his own daring, and slowly but surely, delight. As Dean watches, the sheer joy eclipses everything else, until Cas is grinning, huge and wide and gummy, before he starts to laugh. 

He’s heard Cas chuckle before, short little huffs through his nose and, rarer than a blue moon, an occasional short bark of amusement (usually at Dean’s expense, but sometimes they watch funny stuff on TV). But this is the first time that he’s ever heard Cas laugh, a full bodied sound that comes up deep from the diaphragm and explodes through the kitchen, rich and warm and infectious enough that soon, Dean’s laughing along with him.  

“Asshole,” he says, gasping around his laughs as he seizes a handful of flour and tosses it in Cas’ general direction. It falls well short of him, but the intention was clear, and suddenly, like children, they’re chasing each other around the kitchen, dodging over and under tables and countertops, throwing flour. 

Castiel may have been the commander of an angelic garrison for thousands of years, but Dean’s an older brother. There was only ever one way that this was going to end.

It ends with Cas cornered against the fridge, hands empty as Dean advances on him, bag of flour in hand. “Dean,” Cas tries, holding his hands out in what Dean supposes is supposed to be reconciliation. “Dean, there’s no need for...Look at the kitchen, it’s already a mess...”

“Yes it is.” Dean’s cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. “And whose fault is that, Castiel?” 

Cas’ face shifts from a poor attempt at pleading to his smitey expression, eyes narrowed and mouth pressed into a flat line. “You started it,” he says, flatly, uncompromising. 

“Did I?” Dean asks, calm and sedate as he dumps half the bag over Cas’ head. 

After the dust settles (it turned out to be a kamikaze attack, the flour dust got Dean as well as Cas), they slump onto the floor, still huffing with breathless laughter. Dean’s shoulder presses into Cas’ and his fingers are tangled through Cas’. He decides to leave them there. 

“So what were you making?” Dean asks. Whatever it was, it’s long beyond salvaging now. He supposes that after they clean up, they can either try for Take 3 or, they can just do what they probably should have done to begin with, which is to go down to Lebanon’s bakery and buy whatever it is that Cas had a hankering for. 

Cas slants his eyes at him. “Well, it was March 14th, so I was trying to honor that occasion.” 

It takes Dean a minute to link the pieces together. “A pie,” he finally comes up with. “You were...you were trying to bake a pie.” 

“In honor of the day,” Cas says, seriously as if Pi Day were an internationally recognized day of mourning and not a fun coincidence that high school teachers all over the country seized. 

Dean’s still not done putting the pieces together. “You were making a pie because...” The last piece slots into place and Dean’s cheeks heat, at the same time as a grin starts to spread across his face. “Cas, were you making a pie for me?”

Cas is definitely looking shifty now, his fingers twitching underneath Dean’s as he starts to brush at the flour covering his jeans. Dean doesn’t let him pull away and laces his fingers tightly with Cas’. He doesn’t push or prod, because he’s learned through painful experimentation that pushing Cas too fast and too far beyond his comfort zone ends in nothing more than a snapped Fuck off Dean at best and a slapped ear at worst, but he also doesn’t let Cas pull away. Because Dean also knows that, while Cas aspires to be a world-class liar, there’s nothing he craves more than the truth. From everyone, but most often, himself. 

“It’s possible,” Cas begins, belligerence covering up something pale and vulnerable, “that, since it was already associated with the day, and since I knew that it was your favorite dessert, that it could be thought that I was making the pie for you--”

“You were going to make me a pie,” Dean breathes, just before he puts a hand on Cas’ cheek to tilt his head towards him. He checks Cas’ eyes, a silent is this ok and the look he gets from Cas screams full speed ahead, so Dean leans forward. 

Absurd that after all this time, what it takes is a failed pie and a kitchen doused in flour. But, Dean thinks, before Cas’ lips meet his and then he’s not thinking about much at all, much like pie crust, it’s usually not about the individual ingredients, but more the process and the sum of its parts. 

---

Later, curled up in his bed, satisfaction and bliss still humming through his veins, Dean nuzzles at the underside of Cas’ jaw, stubble prickling alongside his nose and cheeks. “Was there something that we forgot to do?” he asks, voice heavy and thick with impending sleep. “Feels like we’re missing something.” 

“Don’t know.” Cas’ arm curves over Dean’s waist and settles possessively on the small of his back. Miles and miles of skin are pressed against his and Dean loves it, would bottle this feeling and take hits off of it like a junkie if he could. “Sleep now. Worry later.” 

“Yeah,” Dean yawns, already halfway gone. Cas is right. Whatever it is that they’re missing, they can figure it out after a nap. 

That’s his last thought, at least until he hears the Sam’s shrill, “What the hell?” coming from the kitchen. 

Oh, Dean thinks, remembering the flour covering almost every inch of the kitchen, as well as the incriminating patterns made in said flour, as well as the obvious articles of clothing left in the kitchen. 

That’s what we forgot to do.

Then he sleeps. 

#destiel #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #fluff #castiel in the bunker #human!cas #dean winchester #castiel #dothwrites

[autisim]

Welcome to the Castelli Legacy! 

This is my random Sims legacy challenge which will be (hopefully) running for 10 generations. I’ll be following the whims and autonomy of my sims as much as possible, and using randomized rolls to create my sims and generate random gameplay events. To start with, here’s my founder: Leone Castelli! (randomized using my generators here and here)

Leone Castelli

Appearance: Tan skin, medium brown hair, hazel eyes, fit build, blue colour scheme, and a scar above their eyebrow. 

Traits: Neat, foodie, loner (...for now)

Gender: Genderqueer & AFAB (mostly uses they/them pronouns, but is fine with close friends and partners using he/him pronouns)

Sexuality: Pansexual and polyamorous (attracted to all genders and wants to form committed romantic relationships with multiple people)

Aspiration: Part-time student (wants to maintain their grades whilst working a part-time or full-time job)

Job: Career hopper. Will be switching between three full-time careers - a mixologist, conservationist, and doctor - and two unconventional freelance careers - an alchemist (producing potions) and a fizzer (producing fizzy drinks).

Hobby: Video games (must spend at least 3 hours per week on activities relating to the video gaming skill)

Legacy Type

I’ll be rerolling these every generation (using my generator here) because I think it makes sense for each heir to have their own criteria for who they want to be the next heir (plus it shakes things up a bit, which is the whole point of me doing a random legacy challenge).

Strict Equality - The next heir must be a different gender to Leone (either a woman, woman-aligned or feminine-of-center).

Foster - Only adopted children are eligible to be heirs unless there are no adopted children, at which point naturally born children become eligible.

Tolerant - The species of a child doesn’t affect their eligibility as heir.

Living Will - The eligible child with the highest friendly relationship score with the Leone will be named heir.

Throuple With Help - Leone must have two romantic live-in partners and a non-romantic helper sim living in their house.

Three children - Leone must have a total of 3 children.

Also here are some additional facts about Leone Castelli under the cut, for anyone who’s interested.

Leone describes themself as masculine-of-center. They previously identified as a butch lesbian before coming out as genderqueer and realising they’re pansexual. They still feel an affinity to the lesbian community though, and they often have a lot of lesbian friends.

They had top surgery about four years ago and are super pleased with the results, but they don’t intent to start taking testosterone.

Leone had to have a hysterectomy due to medical issues, so they’re unable to have biological children. They aren’t too upset about this as they had always planned to adopt children anyway. 

Leone left school early at 15 to be a full-time carer for their terminally ill mother, who sadly died when Leone was 20. Leone misses her a lot.

Their father passed away a few months ago after struggling for years with depression and alcoholism. Leone feels ambivalent about this because their father was emotionally distant and an all-round awful guy, but they also feel guilty about moving out whilst seeing him spiral downwards after their mother’s death.

Leone’s maternal grandparents were originally from Veronaville and moved to Windenburg when Leone’s mother was a toddler. Leone’s father is also from Veronaville, but moved to Windenburg as an adult.

Leone has been homeless and living in their van for a couple of years now. They’ve managed to scrape enough money together to buy some land and they’re excited to finally create a place of their own.

They’ve had a series of different low-paid jobs but have never actually enjoyed the work they’ve done. They want to get back into education and do a biology degree, but have to save up before they can afford that. 

Leone enjoys both cooking for themself (even though they’re not that good at it) and eating out at restaurants, particularly diners.

Leone isn't really shy, but is naturally introverted and only enjoys being around people for a short while. This and their tough appearance makes people think Leone is cold and emotionally distant, but they can be very loyal and dedicated to their friends.

Leone loves doing housework and organising things. This goes back to when they were a carer for their ill mother, when doing the household chores was one of the only things that gave them a sense of control and achievement in their life.

#random legacy challenge #ts4 legacy #ts4 #sims 4 #my sims #castelli legacy #leone castelli #gen 1 #I feel like I'm definitely getting better at making graphics in photoshop #I'm quite proud of this one #edit: now the additional facts are actually under a cut oops

[konietzko-sylvoran]

You Reap what you Sow

Daily Writing Challenge Day 10 - Reap 9/29

“The Two of Wands indicates a period of personal growth.  It's a time to embark on new adventures, taking time to research carefully before you make decisions. Acting decisively gains you respect of others, and by committing all of your energy to new people, you build a path to success."  ~ Fortune Teller Caythaes - ToA 2020 Again the fortune teller’s words were brought to Koneitzko’s thoughts as he lay there in their pandaren bed at the nearby inn. While Talthorn slept against his chest he couldn’t rest, though this time it wasn’t from a troubled mind but from the fact that in all this happiness and joy there was still something missing. For whatever reason perhaps because he had no other sense of direction but the card reader’s words, he couldn’t let go of this reading in particular. That it was time to embark on new adventures. Time... to commit all his energy to new people and build a path to success. At first he had thought the card simply meant that it was time for personal growth in accepting that this mysterious extravagant magi could be something more to him. That instead of turning him away or assuming that he’d be just a flavor of the week he should commit time to get to know him and see if there was more he might offer. And he did. He still didn’t know how or why Talthorn respected him, trusted him even loved him as much as he did - but he also didn’t question it either. But maybe the card wasn’t just about Talthorn... perhaps, it went even deeper yet.  "Three of Wands. This follows the path of the previous card, indicating that careful planning will pay off. It cautions that rejecting good advice, or by making decisions in haste you will meet failure , however, success is possible. It will be up to you to visualize obstacles, and anticipate problems before they appear. Be precise when weighing the risks before making important decisions. I have faith in you, May the Eternal Sun guide you."  ~ Fortune Teller Caythaes - ToA 2020 As he reflected on his future card, this was the card that gave him pause. He knew how easily he could fail. He knew how much careful planning was -not- his way of life. He lived freely, day by day, night by night, carefree and acted on a whim. It was why he did so well in attracting different lovers because so many craved that ability to just let go and live free as he did and he always gave off that energy. But it also left him empty and lonely and that was not something he had expected to feel as he lay there with someone who made him feel so whole and at home. What good advice was he rejecting? Had he rejected anything as of late? Or was it more he was just being dismissive and not taking subtle ploys to get him to work with others seriously? Was Sharpen just being Sharpen, or was he truly offering Konietzko advice at mention of joining the Succulent Tarts. Was his desire to be in the night life again blinding him from Jiroki’s advice to join her mercenary group? Should he stray from the night life entirely considering how much he’d drowned himself in it before? Just how long would he resist the urge of the fix of drugs, alcohol and tantalizing offers to join others in more than just a dance? He certainly almost fumbled just by being asked his name when with the famed fire dancer. He wouldn’t do that to Talthorn without his thoughts or permission... or at least, he truly hoped he wouldn’t. Talthorn had never made any demands of him but he just couldn’t bring himself to do what he’d done in the past. If he gave in to that impulse or those desires to numb his senses would he stop himself if the right elf walked past him? He couldn’t afford to think such things but these were all risks he had to weigh before choosing to even consider this. As he felt Talthorn start to stir and wake, he knew the first if not the only person he should confide in to find his best advice. "With our lives bringing us to such wonderful places as of late, I think it would be an opportune time to inquire about your thoughts in really accepting one of these organizations we are becoming closer with? I know it was an interest of yours! But I don't know....everything." Talthorn smirks up from his place on Kon’s chest, ready to hear what his lover speak about wonderful possibilities with him. A genuine look of curiosity and somewhat shock overcame Kon’s face, followed by one of his endearing smiles. "This must be a small sample of what it feels like to be so in tune with your heart's other half that you both know what weighs heavy on their thoughts before they even bring it up." He said as his own way of admitting shock to being asked what he'd been thinking most of the time he slept. "I am greatly interested in those we've come to associate with as of late, I always have been if honest but I stepped away out of fear that it was only because of my former life." He admitted not wanting to sour the mood any but it was his truth and he trusted that Talthorn would never become upset with how often he spoke of his former marriage even if he truly hardly spoke much of it in detail at all. "I greatly  enjoy their shows, their energy and as you now have experienced yourself it is heartwarming how welcoming they are with their patrons and fans. I suppose, there is a part of me that has always been drawn to it. Though it wasn't till Sharpen mentioned it that I ever truly considered the fact that I... that -we- even perhaps may tantalize the idea of being more than just their audience." Talthorn mms in response about the heartwarming factors truly feeling that too! It was a lovely draw. He paused a moment when Konietzko said -we-, blinking a few times at him. The magi was so flattered with these thoughts the other spoke out loud. "Really! The both of us...? " his eyes shimmer and dart to a side in thought while his smile broadens. Why had he not thought so easily that he could join his partner in this? "Yes..." Kon said with a warm amusement in his eyes and tone as he caressed his face again. "-We- you and I, of course I would not wish to ask you to leave whatever other commitments you already have.” Talthorn looked back up with inquisitive eyes. He would address that in a minute. Questions slowly begin to surface. "I had wanted to ask about that, if you did want to join with them? What would you wish to do? To me there is no question that you could be stage worthy if you truly wanted to be any sort of entertainer." “If you so wished it, I do believe that -we- have much to offer. I learned a few things during my time with Sivandris. Not everything that came from those days was bad, and I know how much I enjoy dancing, singing even if so compelled." He admitted with some thought. "Though at times I wonder if simply being a greeter, an attractive lure to welcome patrons and entice them to divulge a little is perhaps more my forte. I admire a man who knows his worth, who knows how many heads he turns when he walks into a room and owns it. There was a time I used to radiate that energy though I was always pale in comparison to him." He said as he looked Talthorn in the eyes and caressed his cheek. "Just as I pale in the energy and charm that you yourself offer. I belong as a support role in all that I do and I am alright with that. But I would be willing to learn to become something more. With the Tarts, I feel they might accept us for how we draw others in. But with the Owls... well, perhaps it is more our mystery and the hidden potential I hope to one day bring forth. But it does not mean we can't start in the background and work our way up to the stage." Talthorn felt his heart skip at the mention of -them- being a part of something else together. A community of people, that he could really come to know that had similar looks of life. He looked ready to downright protest with the words of his beloved saying he didn't radiate! He bristles in would be words and wills himself to listen a bit more. "Well, I can accept that if we were to consider being a part of these places that put on such displays, that we might need to take a bit of time to learn what it is we might excel in." Talthorn caresses over the man's skin tenderly. "But you'll find out for yourself quickly if you were to be a greeter just how much you do shine my heart. I don't think you realize how many people are captivated by the essence you are." He gazed again with a smile before needing to shake off his enchanted stare. "And -we- would be very good at being welcoming to others, definitely." He looked confident with those words. "Be apart of the experience, just in a much different way." He then hmmed about this with some thought. "You really are such a natural with people. We both are, in our own ways. And I do enjoy the very idea of getting to help make our, and others life experiences that much better. Really live life! This would be a way to do so. Hm, do we have to choose between them?" There was a level of discomfort there. For Kon, there was a sense of ease that Talthorn not only agreed but that he thought so highly of their skills and what they had to offer. "This is one of many reasons I am growing to love you, I do hope you know that Talthorn." He said still caressing his bearded cheek. “ "Why don't we ask them if they'd accept us first, with the fact  that we wish to in the long run aspire to be performers for both. But in the start... we can only offer the skills we have now. Why you could be a photographer even if you so desired. What I'm saying is let us talk with them and see. But I do wish for your thoughts on the matter. So what say you then my extravagant Kal? Shall we embark on this journey together to see what we are to become? Owls, Tarts whatever.” "That is a brilliant idea! Let's speak to them! I can't -wait- to see what they think of us being apart of their organizations. They could very well feel like a second family. In a sense, they already do? The idea of them having common ideas and interests as we do, definitely puts them in a similar category. I can do a great deal of things, and I am sure they will be open to more positive involvements. I -want- to do and be more for this world! A way to find more life to live, and to share it with you." Talthorn spoke warmly, moving in to kiss his lips tenderly. Konietzko warmly smiled as he met his lips, happy to receive it and trusting that Talthorn was speaking in truth because till he caught him in a lie why wouldn't he? He simply chose to believe that Talthorn wouldn't. With Talthorn at his side, he could now take his time to research into this carefully before making decisions. He could commit all his energy to new people and plant the seeds to building something successful in his life. Something meaningful, something more. 

While he had always had a strong liking and fan base with the performers of the Howling Owl, their events and he certainly enjoyed them still after the festival this weekend, he was also developing a fondness for the Tarts as it was them who helped him find Talthorn. Besides... Sharpen did owe him a pony. The thought of that alone made him laugh as he sat there at the desk with four applications in hand. Two for the Howling Owl, and two for the Succulent Tarts. He looked across the table to Talthorn as they both had finished filling them out together and drew in a deep breath. “This is it...” He said softly with an odd sense of butterflies in his stomach. And as he delivered them to the mailbox and closed it he turned to look to Talthorn as he bit his bottom lip. “Now we sit... and wait... and in the meantime we decide what costumes we’re to wear to their hallow eve events!”

@daily-writing-challenge​ Some of this writing credit goes to @talthorn-sylvoran​ as part of this was my rp the night prior with him! Mentioned in the writing - @talthorn-sylvoran @sharpen-jadescythe @bread-elf @succulent-tart @howlingowl-wra @saeil-moonblade @mekandawn

#dwc2020 #day102020 #reap #Talthorn and Kon #konietzko #Howling Owl #succulent tart #application #tarrot

[eldritchsurveys]

1062.

Have you ever started reading a book and wondered if you’d read it before? >> IDK where on earth Lane got this survey from but it is long as balls and I’m taking it as a personal challenge at this point lmao. LET’S GOOO I’ve never had this experience, no. I don’t always remember the content of books I’ve read, but I at least remember the experience of reading them, I guess?

What has been bothering you a lot lately? >> Oof. I don’t know how to explain it here so it makes sense to the average reader, so I won’t bother making sense. I want Bruni to be a real, external entity, so badly, but if he’s not then I need to know. I need to know if I just created him, because I needed to, so I can come to terms with that and figure out what to do about it. I’ve also been bothered lately by just... my inability to form connections, to feel the way I’m supposed to feel about other people. Knowing why I’m like this (and knowing that it’s not some inherent flaw of mine but a direct result of not being emotionally taken care of when I should have been) only helps a little. I feel like there’s no way I’ll ever be able to fix this, and my only truly fulfilling relationships will be Inworld, forever. (I guess that’s better than nothing, though! At least Inworld exists.)

What (or who) have you been missing lately? >> ---

Are you trustworthy? >> I mean, I guess. I don’t know what anyone would be trusting me with.

Did your parents teach that white lies were ok? >> No, even a white lie would have gotten me punished.

Have you ever hallucinated? >> Yes.

Do you sleep with your door open or closed? >> Closed, to keep both the cat and noise out.

What flags do you have in your room, if any? >> None. Sparrow has a pretty neat gay flag on her wall and a regular gay flag on her lamp.

What (or who) is the best thing that ever happened to you? >> Hm.

What is the worst decision you ever made? >> *shrug*

Do you miss college? >> I’ve never been.

Have you ever called a teacher “mom”? >> No.

What is your favorite arcade game? >> In the Groove.

Do you feel neglected? >> Not now. But I sure do feel the ramifications of previous forms of neglect.

What school subject(s) are/were your best? >> ---

Are you allergic to grass? >> Nope.

Do you remember to water plants? >> Sometimes. I managed to kill a spider plant, though, so I’m kind of discouraged when it comes to plants. I’ll let that be Sparrow’s thing, I’m apparently unfit.

What season is your birthday in? >> Spring.

Name 3 creative people you know. >> ---

Name 3 YouTubers you aspire to be like. >> ---

What color was your first car? >> ---

What year did you graduate? >> 2004.

When was the last time you saw the person you currently have feelings for? >> ---

Have you ever been scammed? >> Nah.

Are you allergic to pollen? >> No.

What style of wedding dress do you like best? >> Sparrow’s was pretty neat.

Are you over your first love? >> ---

Do you talk on the phone a lot? >> I never talk on the phone.

Would you rather call or text? >> Obviously text.

Do you always answer your phone? >> What do you think?

When was the last time you went to a party? >> I guess January; the get-together after Elle’s wedding was pretty much a party.

What was the last thing you ate? >> Beans and rice.

What’s the last book you checked out from the library? >> I haven’t checked a book out in a while. I heard about a book recently and it wasn’t on Scribd so I decided to check Libby just on a whim (I’m used to the books I want to read never being available as ebooks in this library’s meager collection) and they had it. So I might check it out. I feel kind of anxious about doing it because my reading habits have been so erratic lately and I’m like “but what if I don’t read it fast enough?” which, like, you know, I just... renew it... but no one said anxiety had to be fuckin logical, you know.

Do you have a twitter? If so, what was the last thing you tweeted? >> No.

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? >> ---

What’s the last thing you cooked on the stove? >> Eggs.

What color is the cover of the last notebook you used? >> ---

Who was the last person you know to have a birthday? >> Uh... Sparrow, I think.

Who sent the last e-mail you got? >> YES! Magazine.

What song is currently stuck in your head? >> Just some FFXIV music because I just got done playing about an hour ago.

Do you have a favorite shape? >> No.

What color are the sheets on your bed? >> Light grey.

What time do you usually go to bed? >> Between 10 and 11p.

Do you ever use coloring books? >> I’ve done so, but I haven’t lately.

Are you planning on watching the Olympics? >> No.

Do you pronounce the word “often” with or without a “t” in the middle? Hmm. Now that I’ve said it to myself in a few different contexts, it seems I do both. If it’s a one-word answer, like in response to “how much do you get high?” then “often” has a t in it. If it comes in the middle of a sentence and is not the focus, it does not have one. < Yup.

Have you ever been on a trapeze? >> No.

Do you enjoy popping bubble wrap? >> Sometimes. I saved some from a recent package just in case I get the urge, lol. It’s on my desk right now.

Are there any waterfalls near where you live? >> I don’t think so. The landscape isn’t exactly varied here.

Do you like seafood? >> Yes.

Have you ever had to wear a uniform for anything? >> Parochial school.

If so, what did it look like? >> IDK, man, it was a long time ago.

Do you personally know anyone who is an author? >> No.

Do you own a Polaroid camera? >> No.

Do you enjoy baking? >> No.

What’s your favorite type of flower? >> Sunflowers.

Last time (if ever) you were on an airplane, where were you going? >> I was coming home from Houston.

Do you know anyone who is left-handed? >> Sure.

What is something you think is underrated? >> ---

Around what temperature do you consider it to be too hot outside? >> It’s not so much the temperature as the level of humidity, how sunny it is, what time of year it is, etc. There are multiple factors that go into how I experience temperature and the number on the thermometer is only one facet of that.

In what ways do you expect your life to be different one year from now? >> ---

How often do you travel outside of the state/province you live in? >> Not often. Before it was just because it’s expensive and also Sparrow would have to take off work and stuff, and now it’s because of those reasons and also the pandemic.

What’s a hobby you used to have, but don’t anymore? >> ---

What has been your favorite job you’ve had so far? >> Selling merch for local bands at shows.

What’s your favorite kind of salsa/dip to go with tortilla chips? >> Chunky medium-hot salsa.

Do you wash your car by hand or drive through a car wash? >> ---

Where is the farthest north you’ve traveled to? >> This is probably the farthest north I’ve been.

Farthest south? >> I think New Orleans is farther south than Houston, but I don’t feel like looking it up to confirm (or be proven wrong).

East? >> Long Island?

West? >> Colorado.

How often do you run the dishwasher? >> Every couple of days, when it works. (We’re waiting on Maintenance to come fix it, but of course they’re taking their sweet time.)

Do you wash your face at the sink or in the shower? >> I use micellar water, so I just do it in my room. Otherwise I’d do it in the shower because I hate using the sink for that.

Name a stereotype about your gender that you don’t fit. >> Are there agender stereotypes? I haven’t heard of any.

Name a stereotype about your age that you don’t fit. >> Uh... I don’t have kids? Idk.

Do you have any unusual decorations in your home? >> If so, they’re not unusual to me, so...

Do you have any uncommon kitchen appliances, such as espresso machines, waffle irons, etc? >> We do have a waffle iron (Sparrow got one for her birthday). I’m not sure what other kind of appliances are uncommon. Are rice cookers uncommon? I can’t imagine why they would be, they’re so convenient. Unless you just don’t like rice...

What did your parents major/minor in in college, if they went? >> ---

Has either of their careers influenced what career you chose or want to pursue? >> ---

What is the highest level math class you’ve completed? >> Uh... pre-calculus? I don’t remember, man.

How old were you when you learned how to ride a bike? >> I don’t remember. Somewhere between five and eight, I guess. Sounds right.

How old were you when you learned how to swim? >> ---

How do you react when someone is rude to you? >> It depends on the situation.

Have you ever had a friend who was too clingy? >> No.

What kind of natural disaster is most common where you live? >> Blizzard, I’d imagine.

Why is your least favorite season your least favorite? >> ---

Do you have a Netflix account? >> I do.

Have you ever had an animal get into your attic? >> ---

Where is your favorite place to go on vacation? >> I guess New Orleans.

How long does it take to get there? >> About half a day, including layovers and shit. No direct flights from GRR to MSY.

When was the last time you started a “new chapter” of your life? >> ---

What room in your home do you spend the least amount of time in? >> I don’t really know. I was gonna say Sparrow’s room, and then I was gonna say the kitchen, and then I was gonna say the half-bath... I think the half-bath is probably the most reasonable answer?

What is the last random act of kindness you did? >> ---

Do you do anything to reduce the amount of electricity you use? >> I don’t have to reduce it, I barely use any to begin with.

Are you usually open to trying a new food that you aren’t familiar with? >> Yes.

Do you listen to Panic! At The Disco? >> Yes.

Have you ever had a kinky dream about a celebrity? >> Probably. Not necessarily because I wanted to, sometimes dreams just do weird shit like that.

Is there a song you can’t stop listening to atm? >> No.

Has anyone ever told you that they loved you, and you couldn’t say it back? >> I guess that’s a way to put it.

If your Facebook status doesn’t get any likes/comments, does it bother you? >> ---

Which friend do you confide in most? >> ---

Do you wear a cross? >> There’s a small cross on my left earring. But I don’t wear, like, a religious cross.

What is your opinion on Arby’s? >> I’ve only had it once, and that was on the way back from Colorado that one time, when the Greyhound stopped at Arby’s. I don’t remember what the food was like, though. Not even sure why I remember that we stopped there at all.

When you have your own kitchen, how will it be done? >> I mean, this kitchen is “mine”? I don’t live with parents or anything, so...? But I don’t have a choice in how it looks or anything, I didn’t build it.

What is your favorite doughnut? >> Apple cider doughnuts, always.

Do you have a hot tub? If so, where is it located? >> No.

Did you read the Twilight series, or jump on the bandwagon after the movie? >> I read the first book ages ago, didn’t care for it, forgot about it (until it blew up in popularity, of course).

What is your favorite party game? >> ---

Do you or your parents rake your yard? >> ---

Were you pro-Obama? >> I didn’t have an opinion at the time, I was busy trying to survive.

What is your favorite scent from Bath & Body Works? >> ---

What was the last illegal thing you did? >> I don’t remember. Probably something like jaywalking. Or watching Bill & Ted Face the Music on an illegal streaming site. 

Who did you last go to the movies with? >> Sparrow.

What color was the last vehicle you were in? >> Silver.

Do you have any family members in the military right now? >> ---

Is there a ceiling fan in the room you’re in? >> Nope.

When was the last time you wished time would move faster? >> I don’t know.

Are there any owls in your room (as decor, of course)? >> Nope.

Have you ever heard voices? >> Not... in that sense. Like obviously I hear the Inworlders’ voices, but... not quite the same thing, I’m guessing.

Do you believe in angels and demons? >> I have not encountered those kinds of angels and demons. I usually use those words as like... shortcut terms rather than references to the actual Christian concepts or whatever.

Who is the worst neighbor you have ever had? >> ---

Did your Barbies go on dates? >> I don’t recall the specific nature of the social playacting I did with Barbies.

If you’re not straight, who was the first person you came out to? >> I didn’t “come out to” anyone.

Where did you meet your first crush? >> ---

Do you remember the first time your first crush ever said hi to you? >> ---

Do you ever go places with wet hair? >> No.

Who is your favorite little girl? >> ---

What do you want the most in life? >> That’s complicated.

What is a decision you’ve made that changed your entire life? >> I don’t know, man.

Do you ever wonder what kind of person you’d have turned out to be if a certain event never happened to you?  >> Absolutely.

When you’re home alone, do you still shower with the bathroom door closed? >> No. I’ve also showered with the door open even when Sparrow was home, I just usually don’t because it’s not necessary (I just use my phone flashlight in that case so it’s not pitch dark and I don’t kill myself in there). But when I’m alone I just leave the door open for the ambient light. Why don’t I use the bathroom light? Because I have Problems and Disorders. Next question.

If you could have anyone’s singing voice, whose would you choose?  >> I like my own.

What are your top 3 favorite genres of music?  >> ---

Where did you buy your dishes from? >> We generally don’t buy dishes. All of our dishes are from either Sparrow’s sister or the wedding registry.

Do you think Mars will be colonized in your lifetime?  >> I doubt it.

What’s the most expensive thing you’ve bought that turned out to be a waste of money?  >> ---

What’s something you’ve bought that turned out to be way more useful than you anticipated? >> I don’t know.

Have you ever been on a ship?  >> I’ve been on a ferry and a regular boat. Not a ship.

Do you ever take intentional breaks from checking/posting on social media?  >> Just like... off days, I guess. Sometimes I need time to do other stuff and it’s easier to do that when I don’t have the internet wide open and ready to distract me.

Who was Van Halen’s better singer - David Lee Roth, or Sammy Hagar? >> I don’t have a preference.

Which fictional character has the most memorable quotes?  >> *shrug* ???

What’s a class you did not take in school, but now wish you had?  >> ---

Have you ever been to either of your parents’ workplaces?  >> ---

What do you think of the ‘Healthy At Every Size’ movement/philosophy?  >> I don’t have any thoughts about it because I don’t know what exactly said philosophy entails. The phrase itself doesn’t give me enough information to start forming an opinion around.

Have you ever been bitten so hard that their teeth marks were there after? >> Yeah.

Ever been given a hickey? (Love bite)  >> No.

Ever gave one?  >> I don’t think so.

Are you more of an outgoing type or shy type?  >> ---

Do you think it’s weird if guys wear make-up like eyeliner?  >> .... No.........

Are you self conscious? If so what are you self conscious about?  >> I’m self-conscious about being Weird(tm), having Issues and Problems Disorders, and having differing opinions about things that lots of people think a certain way about.

Are you flirty at all?  >> No.

Are you racist at all?  >> I might have perpetuated racist speech and behaviour, sure. I don’t think that means “I am a racist”, I think that means I’ve learned some fucked up shit from other people and hopefully I’ve learned better by now.

Would you ever date a disabled person? (Be honest)  >> ...

If you found a baby randomly by itself what would you do?  >> Call the authorities, I guess. Like... idk??? That’s such a weird situation to be in.

Would you rather adopt or have your own child?  >> ---

What would you class as cheating on someone?  >> I don’t have a personal definition for cheating because the concept does not apply to me or how I do relationships.

Do you try to be politically correct? >> No.

What’s your favorite kind of sea critter?  >> I’m not sure. There are a lot of cool ones.

Have you ever tasted locally-made honey before?  >> Yep! <3

As far as earrings go, would you rather wear hoops or studs? >> Neither, I like the earrings I have.

Do you find P.E. humiliating, or think schools shouldn’t teach it?  >> I found it obnoxious and boring and a waste of time, but that doesn’t mean schools shouldn’t teach it. I just had a bad time with it for my own specific reasons.

Do you recycle?  >> No.

Are you interested in current world issues?  >> Not particularly.

Do you think you are mature, or immature?  >> ...

What kind of career are you interested in? >> ---

Do you own a pair of sunglasses?  >> I own two pairs. I really want a better pair, like an actual good pair of sunglasses and not just cheapo pairs.

Do you use bobby pins, hair clips, or elastic hair ties? Which?  >> No.

How badly do you get acne? (If at all)  >> I don’t.

What’s the best way to cope with a breakup?  >> ---

If someone dislikes you, what is most likely to be the reason?  >> I said something that ticked them off? I don’t smile enough? IDK, dude?

How many text messages do you have in your inbox atm?  >> ---

When was the last time you had a difficult decision to make?  >> I don’t remember.

In school, what subjects do/did you find the most difficult?  >> English.

Do you still speak to the person you had your first kiss with?  >> ---

Where did you meet the last person you swapped numbers with?  >> ---

Who was the last person to add you as a friend on Facebook?  >> One of Elle’s friends that I met at her wedding.

Who was the last person that asked if you were okay?  >> I don’t remember the last time someone asked me that.

What does your handwriting look like?  >> I don’t know how to describe it.

Do you use any products on your hair, other than shampoo and conditioner?  >> I use a tea tree oil on my scalp and that’s about it.

Who were your best friends in primary school? >> ---

Do you still speak to any of them? >> ---

What was the last thing you bought from a vending machine?  >> I don’t remember the last time I used a vending machine.

What color hair did your first crush have?  >> ---

What type of shoes do you find the most comfortable?  >> No shoes.

Are you more masculine or feminine?  >> ---

If you could design your own mug, what would you put on it?  >> I don’t want to design a mug. I like the ones I already have.

What is the best beach you’ve been to?  >> I’ve only been to the NY ones...

What is one thing you physically can’t do?  >> Run a marathon.

Have you ever been to a funeral? >> Yes.

Have you ever visited your state’s capitol building?  >> No.

Have you ever visited your nation’s capitol building?  >> No.

Do/did you have a favorite seat in church?  >> ---

What is your favorite park?  >> I still really love Central Park. And Prospect Park, too.

Have you ever felt an earthquake? >> A very minor aftershock, once.

Do you chew gum regularly?  >> Not anymore, not after Orbit ruined my favourite kind. :(

Where did you go on your first train ride?  >> I think that was to North Carolina when I was 17.

Do you know anyone with a dual citizenship?  >> No.

What sports teams do you root for, if any? (Extra points for Boston fans.) >> ---

Do you dunk your cookies in milk?  >> Nope.

What is something you are confident about?  >> ---

Have you ever been physically addicted to a substance? What?  >> No.

How do you feel about needles?  >> I don’t have any feelings about them, they don’t affect me either way.

What is your favorite accent to listen to?  >> ---

What was the reason you last got dressed up?  >> Halloween.

Have you ever been the subject of cruel rumors? What were they?  >> Maybe at some point, but I don’t remember now.

Do you prefer loose or form-fitting clothing? What about on your preferred gender?  >> I prefer looser clothing. Not baggy, per se, just looser.

What do you do when you are really, really mad?  >> I don’t know, I haven’t been that mad in so long I have no idea what I’d do.

Would you rather go naked than wear fur?  >> Fuck no????

Do you put a line through your 7’s? What about your Z’s?  >> Nah.

What is one thing that someone could do to you that is unforgivable?  >> *shrug*

Are you able to forgive and forget? >> Mehhhh.

Do you like cold pizza? >> I really do not.

What is your favorite fruit?  >> I’m not sure, I like most fruits.

What about your favorite fruit juice, if it differs from solid fruit?  >> ---

Do you like broccoli and cheese? >> No! Leave broccoli alone, christ.

What about potatoes and cheese?  >> Not really?

Have you written a letter by hand, lately? To whom?  >> No.

Toaster or toaster oven?  >> We only have a toaster, but I would love a toaster oven.

What are you most known for?  >> ---

Do you have any reputations? What are they?  >> Er...

Do you wear band shirts? What band was on the last one you wore?  >> I do. I’m not sure what the last one I wore was.

Do you own any hats? Describe them.  >> I have a plain floppy beanie and I have one that says “I don’t need no body” and it has a dancing skeleton on it, lol.

What about masks, you got any? Describe those.  >> Yeah, I have a raven masquerade mask. I forget why.

What was the last thing to leave you speechless?  >> I don’t remember.

Do your parents like your friends? If they don’t, why not?  >> ---

Have you been called a bad influence?  >> I don’t think so.

Describe your favorite pair of socks.  >> I don’t have a favourite, per se, but here’s a fun pair I have: they say “eat, drink, and be spooky” or something very similar and have a fun Halloween design on them.

Have you experienced any life-changing news, events, etc, lately?  >> No.

Have any self-done piercings?  >> Not anymore.

Ever pierced someone else?  >> No.

Do you get distracted easily?  >> By things like sound and motion.

Is talking to strangers enjoyable for you, or stressful?  >> It can really go either way. Sometimes it’s just neutral.

How do you feel about getting new neighbors? >> I don’t care. They’re probably just going to be loud asses too.

How many ceiling fans are in your home?  >> Zero.

Do you tweet your life away? >> I don’t tweet at all.

How do you feel about shameless self promoting? >> I don’t care?

When reading words. like. this. do. you always pause after the periods?  >> Yeah.

What about screaming when reading something IN ALL CAPS?  >> Yes, which is why I hate when people type like that. There’s a popular blogger on this website that makes all their posts in all-caps and I will never fucking understand it. Like, their content is fun sometimes but I can’t really engage with it because I hate the shouty text!

#surveys #survey #random survey #not for reblogging *glare* #i made it through. dear god #(probably because half the questions i didn't even have answers for)

[iandeleonwrites]

Ian’s Case: A Personal Statement for Grad School Admission

Personal Statement, Ian Deleón

“He felt something strike his chest, and that his body was being thrown swiftly through the air, on and on, immeasurably far and fast, while his limbs were gently relaxed.”

It was more than a decade ago when I first read those words. Written by the American author Willa Cather, Paul’s Case: A Study in Temperament has always felt to me like an intimate account of my own life penned by a woman one hundred years in the past. 

That is a feeling which makes me proud; that my personal whims, fears, and desires, could find their echo long ago in a story about a young man and his pursuit of a meaningful life. Because of it, I felt a pleasing sense of historicity at a time when I was struggling so much with my own. 

I grew up in Miami Beach. Literally not more than a block away from water for most of my life. My father had emigrated from Cuba with his family in 1980. My mother had come on a work visa from Brazil a few years later. They met on the beach, had an affair, and I came into the world in May of 1987. 

My life was marked with in betweenness from the very beginning. My parents’ relationship did not last long, so I grew up traveling between houses. I had two families. I was American, but I was also Cuban and Brazilian. I even have a Brazilian passport. I spoke three languages fluently, but I couldn’t dance salsa or samba. I felt at home with the working class immigrants and people of color in my neighborhoods, but I often had to work hard to prove I wasn’t just some gringo with a knack for foreign tongues.  

[A quick note on Paul’s Case––If it happens that the reader is not familiar with the short story, let me briefly summarize it here:  A disenchanted youth in turn of the century Pittsburgh feels increasingly alienated from his schoolmates, his teachers and his family. His only comfort is his position as an usher at Carnegie Hall, where he loses himself in the glamour of the art life. Having no drive or desire to become an artist, however, the dandy Paul makes a spur of the moment criminal decision and elopes to New York City. There, he is able to live out his fantasies in a financial masquerade for about a week’s time, until the authorities back home finger him for monetary theft. Learning that his father is en route to the city to collect him, Paul travels to the countryside and flings himself in front of a speeding train, musing about the elegant brevity of winter flowers.]

When I first encountered Cather’s short story I was blown away by the parallels I saw between my own life and Paul’s. In 2005, fresh out of high school, I was living mostly with my father as my mother had relocated to faraway West Palm Beach. I was an usher at the local concert hall, a job I cherished enough to volunteer my time for free. I became entranced by the world of classical music, opera, theater, and spectacle––often showing up for work early and roaming the performance spaces, probing high and low like some kind of millenial phantom. 

In school, however, I had no direction, no plan. I had good enough grades, but no real motivation, and worst of all, I thought, no discernible talent. I probably resented my father for not being cultured enough to teach me about music, theater, and the arts. No one in my family had ever even been to a museum, or sat before a chamber orchestra. And it didn’t seem to matter to them either, they could somehow live blissfully without it. 

Well I couldn’t. I began to mimic the fervor with which Paul immersed himself in that world, while also exhibiting the same panic at the thought of not being able to sustain my treasured experiences without a marketable contribution to them. But here is where Paul and I take divergent paths. 

I was attending the Miami Dade Honors College, breezing my way towards an associate’s degree. I took classes in Oceanography, Sociology, Creative Writing, Acting and African Drumming. I was experimenting and falling in love with everything. 

But it was my Creative Writing professor, Michael Hettich, who really encouraged the development of my nascent writing talent. Up until that point my ideas only found their expression through class assignments, particularly book reports and essays on historical events. My sister had always felt I had a way with words, but I just attributed this to growing up in a multicultural environment amongst a diversity of native languages.  

As a result of that encouragement I began to write poetry, little songs and treatments for film ideas based on the short stories we were talking about in class. Somehow, thanks to those lines of poetry and a few amateur photographic self portraits, I was admitted to the Massachusetts College of Art & Design for my BFA program. 

There, I attended classes in Printmaking, Paper Making, Performance Art, Video Editing, and Glass Blowing. I was immersed in culture, attending lectures and workshops, adding new words to my vocabulary: “New Media” and “gestalt”. I saw my first snowfall. I had the dubious honor of appearing at once not Hispanic and yet different enough. I was overwhelmed. I felt increasingly disenchanted and out of place in New England, yet my work flourished and grew stronger. 

It was during this time that I developed a passion for live performance and engagement with an audience. I also worked with multi-channel video and sculptural installations. Always, I commented on my family history, grappling with it, the emigrations and immigrations. I even returned to those early short stories from Miami Dade, one time doing an interpretive movement piece based on The Yellow Wallpaper. Most often I talked about my father. He was even in a few of my projects. He was a good sport, though we still had the occasional heated political disagreement. We never held any grudges, and made up again rather quickly. It would always be that way, intense periods of warming and cooling. A tropical temperament, I suppose. 

I continued to take film-related classes in Boston, but my interests gradually became highly abstracted, subtle, and decidedly avant-garde. I had no desire to work in a coherently narrative medium. This would eventually change, but for now, I let my ambitions and aspirations take me where they would. 

I returned home to Miami for a spell after graduation. I traveled the world for five months after that. I moved back to Boston for another couple of years, because it was comfortable I suppose, though I was fed up with the weather. 

Finally, I wound up in NYC. Classic story: I followed a charming young woman, another performance artist as luck would have it, a writer too, and a bit of an outsider. We were quickly engaged and on the first anniversary of our meet cute we were married on a gorgeous piece of land in upstate new york, owned by an older performance-loving couple from the city. Piece of land doesn’t quite do it justice, we’re talking massive tracts, hidden acres of forest, sudden lakes, fertile fields, and precocious wildlife. As they say in the movies, it really is all about location, location, location. 

Nearly all of our significant personal and professional achievements in the subsequent years have centered around this bucolic homestead. After meeting, courting, researching and eventually getting married there, we soon decided we would stage our most ambitious project to date in this magical space––we would shoot...a movie.

We hit upon the curious story of an eighteenth century woman in England called Mary Toft. Dear Mary became famous for a months-long ruse that involved her supposed birthing of rabbits, and sometimes cats. The small town hoax ballooned into a national controversy when it was eventually exposed by some of the king’s physicians. My wife and I were completely enthralled by this story and its contemporary implications. Was Mary wholly complicit in the mischievous acts, or was she herself a sort of duped victim...of systematic abuse at the hands of her family, her husband, her country? 

We soon found a way to adapt and give this tale a modern twist that recast Mary as a woman of color alone in the woods navigating a host of creepy men, a miscarriage, and a supernatural rabbit. 

Over the course of nine months, our idea gestated and began taking the form of a short film screenplay. This was something neither of us had done or been adequately trained to do before. But we knew we wanted it to be special, it was our passion project. We knew we didn’t want it to look amateurish––we were too old for that. So we took out a loan, hired an amazing camera crew, and in three consecutive days in the summer of 2017 we filmed our story, Velvet Cry. It was the most difficult thing either of us had undertaken...including planning our nuptial ceremony around our difficult families. 

It was an incredible experience––intoxicating––also quite maddening and stressful. But it was all worth it. Because of our work schedules, it took us another year to finish post production on the film, but throughout that process, I knew I had found my calling. I would be a writer, and I would be a Director. 

Perhaps I had been too afraid to dream the big dream before. Perhaps I had lacked the confidence, or simply, the life experience to tackle the complexity of human emotions, narratives, and interactions––but no longer. This is what I wanted to do and I had to find a way to get better at doing it. 

In the intervening months, I have set myself on a course to develop my writing abilities as quickly as I could in anticipation of this application process. I know I have some latent talent, but it has been a long time since I’ve been in an academic setting, and in any case, I have never really attempted to craft drama on this scale before. 

I’ve read many books, listened to countless interviews, attended online classes, and most importantly, written my heart out since relocating down the coast to the small college town of Gainesville in Central Florida with my wife in June of 2018. It was through a trip to her alma mater of Hollins University that we learned about the co-ed graduate program in screenwriting a few months ago. After all the debt I accrued in New England, I didn’t think I would ever go back to college, though I greatly enjoyed the experience. But what we learned about the program filled me with confidence and a desire to share in the wonderful legacy of this school that my wife is always gushing about. 

Our Skype conversation with Tim Albaugh proved to be the deciding factor. I knew instantly that I wanted to be a part of anything that he was involved with, and I had the feeling that my ideas would truly be nurtured and harnessed into a craft––something tangible I could be proud of and use to propel my career. 

I continue to mine my childhood and adolescence in Miami for critical stories and characters, situations that shed light on my own personal experience of life. I’ve found myself coming back to Paul’s Case. No longer caught up in the character’s stagnant, brooding longings for a grander life, I’m now able to revisit the story, appreciating the young man’s anxieties while evaluating how it all went so fatally wrong for Paul. There was no reason to despair, no cause for lost hope. I would take the necessary steps to become the artist I already know myself to be. The screenplay I am submitting as my writing sample is a new adaptation of this story, making Paul my own, and giving him a little bit of that South Florida flavor. 

I will close by reiterating how I have visited Hollins, and heard many a positive review from the powerful women I know who have attended college there. As a graduate student, I know Hollins can help me to become a screenwriter, to become a filmmaker. This is the only graduate program to which I am applying––I have a very good feeling about all this.

I want to be a Hollins girl. 

#college essay #paul's case #queer writing #hollins university

[revangerang]

Oh boy I really got in my feelings and wrote way too much lmao

Tagged by: @edithpattou86

Tags your friends to do their own lists: @chierafied @mother-ishvara @doughygraduatestudent @kazoomajor @pagan-assassin

[[MORE]]

Top 5 animated movies:

1. Whisper of the Heart - Such a cute and whimsical slice-of-life coming of age story, and so inspiring for creative types! I love how Shizuku sees her fantasies come to life in the world around her, and how she just follows her whims to wander the city and treats each day like an adventure. I see a lot of myself in her. The grandpa and his shop are so cool! I want to find a place like that in my city! I love how she and Seiji inspire and encourage each other to improve themselves. Even though they’re so young and I usually hate that kind of thing, I think it’s a very realistic portrayal of what true love and a healthy relationship should be. The way her writing is treated as a creative process and something she can polish with hard work is just such a wonderful message and so inspiring to me.

2. Spirited Away - I love the Japanese culture and mythology, and the serene, still tone of the film. Truly beautiful. The way it doesn’t paint the spirits and gods in a bad light is good and correct: they were the careless humans who went into their world and took what they shouldn’t have. But it still focuses on the supernatural and eerie elements, often without even explaining anything, which I love. And the bathhouse feels like a real functioning place with workplace culture and all. And of course it’s great that Chihiro steps up and learns to be strong. I just love it.

3. Howl’s Moving Castle - I love all the characters so much, and all the magic and whimsy. The fantasy European setting is so charming, and they did a good job depicting Western magic. Ghibli movies really have such mundane magic, and they make me feel like my life is magic too. Sophie is so good and strong and I love seeing her come into her own. And Howl is hot. lmao

4. My Neighbor Totoro - I had the original Fox dub of this on a bootleg VHS my grandma made us when I was literally like an infant. My parents threw it away when I was still young- like no older than 5- because it “has Eastern religion in it” 🙄 Too bad for them the damage was already done lmfao. It was definitely one of the biggest influences of my formative years, I loved it so much and I’m so grateful to it. That mundane magic I talked about before, and just introducing me to a totally different worldview from my sheltered white American Christian bubble. I was fascinated by every single aspect from the traditional Japanese-style home to the bentos to the shrines... I really admired Satsuki and how grown up she was, taking care of her little sister like she did, making the lunches, all that. It’s really such a charming movie with great music and such a realistic depiction of childhood. Plus who doesn’t love Totoro himself?? And catbus! Iconicccc. I still look for little portholes in bushes and trees to this day lmao

5. Mulan - My little 8-year-old enby ass crying in the living room and repeatedly playing the Reflections scene over and over makes so much more sense now 😂 But really it’s just such a great film with a unique art style, fun characters, and great music. I love how Mulan fights for what she believes is right, and wants to protect her father. And I think it’s great how she also fights to find her own place in the world. I like how they don’t make it a “not like other girls” thing, but just that she personally somehow doesn’t feel comfortable in her own skin with the makeup and all that. Between her living as a man and the clear romantic relationship between “Ping” and Shang, it’s pretty good queer representation for a 2000s Disney movie lol. Also Mulan and Shang can both get it I mean what.

Honorable Mention: Prince of Egypt - That animation tho! So fucking cinematic!! And the music and everything just ugh so good! The characters are really compelling too and you can totally feel the brotherly love and familial issues.

Top 5 live action movies:

1. Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day - This is a movie where you can’t look away for a moment or you’ll miss something important. It really is just one entire heck of a day for the main character like howwww does so much happen. It’s really just written so well honestly that they manage to pack so much into a single movie and a single day. I aspire to that level. The 30s setting is so great with the costumes and set and music ahh I get so much inspiration from it. Every single character (and actor for that matter) is just fantastic. It’s super funny- that situational comedy is my jam. And there are touching moments that give me inspiration for my own life. I relate to Miss Pettigrew with her clear social anxiety, and perhaps neurodivergency? But I love how the events of the film bring out the best in her. And Delysia is just so charming! I want her confidence

2. La La Land - Such a fun and whimsical musical about life for creatives in Los Angeles~ It makes me feel nostalgic and proud to live here. I love all the different homages to classic Hollywood, and the music is so good!! The love story feels realistic and I actually really like that they don’t end up together in the end. They just encourage each other to be better, and if that means being apart, they’re willing to do it. It is another one that gives me inspiration for my life and creative endeavors, especially The Fools Who Dream 😭 Gets me every time.

3. Mamma Mia - This is my shameless feel-good movie. I love just putting it on in the background as I clean or whatever. It’s just so upbeat and fun!! I love Amanda Seyfried and Meryl Streep especially. And I like that the main character learns what she wants (and doesn’t want) out of life right now. And I love that they depict older characters and women!! having full and rich lives including romance and sex. The message that it’s never too late for love is so great! And also just like please communicate and you will probably save yourself so much heartache lmao.

4. Across the Universe - I have an affinity for the 60s and 70s, and I love how this movie kind of takes you through that era with the various characters. It’s such a fun movie with great costumes, cinematography, and music! I just love all the covers of the Beatles songs!! I honestly like them just as much as I like the originals. This is one of the first things I ever saw with positive/neutral queer representation?? Like Sadie is presented just as she is, without it being like WHAT SHE LIKES WOMEN?????? I”MPOSSIBLE !! Or making it all about sex or whatever. It’s literally just like “I want to hold your hand.” Also the whole bit with Eddie Izzard is just incredible lmfao

5. LOTR - My first fandom~ I love these movies so much ughhh. The music! The costumes! The characters! The world! The high fantasy!! I think PJ was so true to the books, or at least as much as he was able in just 10-ish hours. I love that they just went for it and filmed all three in one go, and made them over 3 hours long, which was basically unheard of at the time for blockbuster films. They did so good fully representing the different races through costume, language, culture, and the music too. I literally used to just lay on my bed for hours at a time in junior high, listening to the soundtracks and being immersed in the world. My friends and I would often play pretend that we were in Middle Earth (so lame for middle schoolers lmaooo). I love every single (not-evil) character and I will fight for them. I will especially fight Denethor I don’t even cARE !

Honorable mention: A Little Princess - Sooo whimsical and lovely, even when the girls are going through hardship! I love Sarah and how she literally does magic and even puts a curse on what’s her face omgg. She’s so charming and a genuinely good person too, even though she could have been a spoiled brat. The big climactic scene is so !! Omg I still get the adrenaline when she’s crossing the board and then hiding from the police even though I’ve seen this countless times since I was a small child. And it’s so wonderful that she’s reunited with her father, and they adopt the other girl. It taught me at a young age that the world isn’t fair and people will be nasty and abusive for no reason, but that you can still believe in magic and “fancy yourself a princess.” And the neighbor guy taught me that strangers will step in to help out of the goodness of their heart.

Top 5 TV shows:

1. ATLA - One of the best series of all time. The worldbuilding, lore, storyline, character development, animation, music, etc, are all incredible. If they had gone with the original intention of making Zutara canon it would have been literally perfect and so subversive and innovative! As it is it is still nearly perfect and they still did an amazing job with Zuko’s redemption arc. I just ignore that very last scene tbh. In my mind, it didn’t happen. The series addresses so many issues like imperialism, sexism, abuse, family, disability, war, etc, in a very realistic way. Uncle Iroh is literally a treasure.

2. Steven Universe - So charming and wonderful!! I just love it so much!! It is so goddamn queer, it makes me so happy. Stevonnie is the nonbinary representation we don’t even deserve!! I love every single character. I love the animation and the music too! The bgm is so bubbly and glitchy and cool, super on point for trends these days. And the original songs are so charming~ It also deals with a ton of important issues like imperialism, interpersonal relationships, oppression, self-identity, abuse, leadership, mental health, boundaries, consent, brain-washing, unlearning unhealthy behavior, etc. I love that every single character, even minor ones, get character development and a chance to be strong and improve themselves. And it shows that even the ones we initially think are super strong and have it all together, actually have their own issues that they struggle with too.

3. Yuuri!!! On Ice - This show!!!! Oh my goddddddd. Literally perfect. I love that it just subverts every single trope???? Especially with the events at the beginning and the big spoiler in episode 10. Simply incredible. I love every single character so much??? Even ones I was expecting to hate, like how Yurio is a little shit at the beginning, and then when Lilia is introduced as this super severe tyrant, but she ends up just being a good, yet strict coach because she really wants Yurio to succeed. It’s honestly just so wholesome! The music is so amazing and the ice skating is really realistic too! It really shows that they had an actual skating choreographer and worked off video of him performing. I love how realistic the whole show is like with lots of social media, youtube, instagram, etc. And it does a queer romance without it being a gimmick. It’s just a sports anime with a side plot of a romance but it just happens to be gay. And Kubo-sensei has stated that homophobia doesn’t exist at all in their world which makes me so happy. It’s honestly so queer and I adore how all three main characters are genderfucks a bit. I also love how realistically Yuuri’s anxiety and depression are portrayed. I relate so much to him, especially because mine exhibit in the exact same ways as his. It’s another one that inspires me to fight to be better and live the life I want to live.

4. OTGW - So charming. A perfect addition to the canon of New England fairy tales. The music is great, the animation is wonderful and nostalgic, the characters are fun and interesting and spooky. I love how liminal it is and you aren’t really sure where they are or what’s going on for the majority of the episodes. Greg is the most realistic depiction of a small child and the brothers’ relationship is the most realistic I think I’ve ever seen in my life lmao. He’s just so random and weird and has such Little Kid Logic I love it so much lmao. The story is perfectly contained in its 10 short episodes, and it gives a very satisfying ending. I still can’t get over how many huge stars were in it too?? Like fucking Tim Curry as Auntie Whispers???? I can not believe.

5. Inuyasha - I’m weeb trash and this show is also trash but I love it so much okay. As a big fan I hold so much against the anime for changing things from the manga, but even so I love it. Overall I think the animation, music, and voice acting is perfect. It’s so cool with all the mythos of youkai and the shikon jewel, plus I love traditional Japanese culture stuff. And isekai type stuff is my jam. If I found a portal to another world or to the past you bet your ass I’d go through it. I totally don’t still look for portals as a 30 year old adult, I don’t know what you’re talking about 😂 Kagome is such a great mc tbh like she’s so smart and strong and talented and kind I just love her so much??? I want to be more like her. And I love all the characters honestly. I have to overlook some questionable 90s anime tropes for certain ones, but I still love them. As much as we rag on the constant upgrades thing, the battles and stuff are pretty thrilling, and overall the series is good fun. And yes Sesshoumaru is my husbando, next question.

Honorable Mention: Doctor Who - I love how this show manages to be like every single genre?? SciFi, historical, comedy, thriller, mystery, slice of life, etc. I love all of the Doctors, and all of their companions. I just love how much the Doctor loves humans, and how much faith they have in humanity. And again it’s that whole isekai, time travel, normal modern human goes on magical adventures thing. I would go with the Doctor in a heartbeat. I still cry over Donna 😭

#tagged #about me #ghibli #hmc #spirited away #whisper of the heart #totoro #mulan #disney #prince of egypt #miss pettigrew lives for a day #la la land #across the universe #mamma mia #lotr #a little princess #atla #inuyasha #yoi #yuuri!!! on ice #otgw #su #steven universe #doctor who #dw