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petcr3 · 8 months

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something to rely on | chapter one

series masterlist (coming soon!)

summary: despite being separated, bob floyd is there to support his wife and their son after she sustains some injuries in a car accident.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: separation/divorce, reader is frequently referred to by she/her pronouns, is called bob's wife/ex-wife, mrs. floyd, etc. bob and reader have a son, but i have tried to be as inclusive as possible with regards to appearance and the type of family! (meaning, if i've done my job correctly, charlie can have been adopted, not necessarily carried by the reader, etc.) non-graphic reference to a car accident, non-graphic description of injuries. chapter one is set entirely in a hospital. readers parents are present in the story, still married, and have a good relationship with reader because this is fantasy lol

a/n: lads, it's here. some of you have been hearing me blather about this story for fucking ages and chapter one is finally done. i'm proud of it, i think, but if nothing else i simply cannot keep sitting on it, so here it is! very excited for this story's future <3 i hope you love charlie as much as i do lol

It’s a rare occasion that one hears Bob Floyd before seeing him, but you suppose your getting into a car accident is a special enough occasion.

Things feel hazy–– with two broken wrists and a broken leg, you’ve been given quite the painkiller. You’re not sure how long you’ve been awake, exactly, but it can’t have been very long. There’s a digital clock on a small table next to your hospital bed, but your neck is too sore to turn far enough over to see it. A thick wooden door is shut against the buzz of the floor outside: the ringing of phones, the click of computer keys, and the clatter of patients being wheeled to and from scans and tests and specialists.

Even amidst all that, the sound of Bob’s words cuts through. He’s raising his voice, you realize. That’s not like him.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the nurse says on the other side of the door, “but outside of visiting hours I can only admit family, and––”

“I am family,” he says, impatient.

“I understand that, but when a patient is separated––”

“Separated,” Bob interrupts, “not divorced. That is my wife and the mother of my child, so will you please let me see her?” It sounds much more like a demand than a question. The nurse sighs, clearly frustrated.

“Let me go speak to her.” She steps out from behind the counter and cuts Bob a severe look. “If she is awake, I’ll let her know you’re here. But given that rest is one of the most crucial things for her right now, I will not be waking her up. You can wait.”

“Thank you,” comes his clipped reply. The nurse approaches your room, only a few steps away from the front desk–– Bob would have just gone straight in, had he known— and when the door creaks open, he can be seen standing over her shoulder–– a respectful distance behind, at least.

“Ma’am, there’s someone here to see you,” she says. You can tell it’s taking everything Bob has not to run to you, but he’s smart enough to know that showing this nurse any more disrespect isn’t wise. “He says he’s your husband,” she continues, “but if you don’t want to see him, I can tell him to leave.”

“No, that’s okay,” you say, “he can come in.” She turns around only to discover Bob right behind her. He squeezes quickly past, murmuring a hurried thank you before practically flying to your bedside. All his frustration quickly dissipates as he leans over you, a deep furrow in his brow. Over his shoulder, you see the nurse shake her head, exasperated, and leave, shutting the door behind her.

“Hey honey,” Bob says, hand lifting to brush across your cheek, as if it’s two years ago and nothing has changed. “Are you alright? What happened?”

“I’m okay, Bobby,” you reply, tired. You surprise yourself, though, using his old nickname like that. Since you two broke up, you’ve only ever called him Bob. “Someone lost control of their car in the rain, apparently. You owe that nurse an apology.”

“And I’ll give her one later. First I need to know that you’re okay.”

“I just said that I’m okay,” you laugh softly. “Bob, I’m fine.” Reluctantly, he nods, leaning back to grab at a chair. He won’t even stand all the way up, refuses to take his eyes off you lest you run off somewhere else to nearly get yourself killed.

“How’s Charlie; is he with your parents?” You nod, heart clenching at the thought of your son, how distressed he must be right now.

“Yeah,” you say, voice getting a little watery. “Yeah, I got to talk to him a little while ago. He wants to come visit after my surgery tomorrow.” Bob’s brow furrows.

“Surgery?”

“Just my left wrist. The right one and the leg only need braces, but,” you sigh, “yeah, the left one took the door pretty hard, so.” He nods.

“How about your head? All okay up there, no bleeding?”

“I have a concussion, but that’s all. They know what they’re doing here, Bob. Don’t worry. I’m gonna be just fine.” He studies you for a moment, then sighs, nodding his head again. “Not so fun being on the other side of it, huh?” you say without thinking. It isn’t meant to be cutting, but blue eyes snap up to your face, a faint expression of shock on Bob’s features.

Still, you have a hard time feeling too guilty. How many times have the roles been reversed? How many times have you held your baby boy to your chest murmuring reassurances that you can’t promise are true? How many times has Bob been gone, unable to tell you he was okay or even alive? Or looked up at you under the harsh white light of a hospital room on base and told you there was nothing to worry about when you both knew that there was?

Bob schools his expression into something a little softer and gives a curt nod. You can’t decide if that was over the line. But that had always been the problem, hadn’t it?

Neither of you had known how easy it would be to push each other over their limits. You’d thought love and a thick skin would be enough to survive the looming fear of losing your husband. Bob had thought it would be easier to outrun the guilt he always felt leaving you behind, the way it weighed on his chest like an anvil. Eventually, your wounds were rubbed raw and his ribs began to crack beneath the pressure.

The times when he was home were supposed to be precious, but they had become tense, uncomfortable. It wasn’t good for either of you, and it certainly wasn’t good for three-year-old Charlie. Splitting up had been the best choice, even though it pained you both to admit it.

Bob had been adamant about a separation rather than a divorce. Ex-spouses of the military were still entitled to some benefits, but for Charlie’s sake and yours he wanted to remain legally married. You’d both agreed that if you met other people and got serious enough, a divorce would be back on the table. It hadn’t been the easiest decision, but now, laying in a hospital bed, you can’t help but feel grateful. And how many people can say their ex husband came rushing to their side in an emergency?

Regret is already creeping up across your skin.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly, reaching to touch the back of his hand. Your fingers brush awkwardly against his skin where they protrude from your brace, but you can see the gesture means something to him–– his eyes shine a little sadly when he looks at you. He gives a faint shake of his head.

“S’okay. Me too.”

Despite your best efforts to persuade him otherwise, Bob stays the night in your room, sleeping with his legs slung across a second chair the nurses had been kind enough to provide for him. (He’d apologized to the nurse he spoke to when he arrived, and she’d taken it rather graciously, all things considered. In her place, you’re pretty sure you would have had him thrown out.) You fall asleep fairly easily, exhaustion having taken its toll, but you wake up in the wee hours needing the bathroom. You press the call button, hoping it won’t wake your sleeping companion, but Bob rouses when Jermaine, one of the nurses, comes in. The whole bathroom song and dance is a process you certainly don’t enjoy, but you’ve gotten used to it over the past several hours.

“Can’t get enough of me, huh?” Jermaine quips, walking to your bedside.

“I keep guzzling water when he’s not looking,” you say, nodding towards a still groggy Bob. Jermaine only laughs and pulls back the covers.

“All right, ready?”

“Yep.” You grimace as he braces his hands beneath your armpits to help lift you up enough to get into your wheelchair. You sigh as Jermaine rolls you to the bathroom and braces an arm around your waist to help you onto the toilet. The door stands open, but you’re too drained to care–– besides, this isn’t anyone’s first rodeo.

You don’t see the way Bob’s eyes widen with worry. How he watches each maneuver carefully, filing it away in the back of his mind. The decision had been made before he walked through the door, really, but seeing you struggle only cements it. He doesn’t say anything as Jermaine helps you back to bed–– only a quiet thank you as the nurse leaves the room. He can talk to you about his plan tomorrow.

A low murmur of voices filters into your consciousness as you wake that morning, your eyes flickering open to see Bob standing with Dr. Alvarado, who will be performing your surgery. She notices you shifting in your bed and comes to your side, Bob following suit on the opposite, returning to his seat.

“Good morning, Mrs. Floyd,” she says warmly, “how are we feeling?” Your mouth is dry and you swallow thickly before responding.

“I’ve been better,” you rasp, wincing at the scrape of your voice. Bob is holding out a cup of water before you even have a moment to think, and you start to reach for it before faltering. In the fog of waking up, you’d almost forgotten.

“I’ve got it,” he says quietly, bringing it to your lips. You drink, far too worn out to protest.

“Your procedure is scheduled for 12:30 this afternoon. It’s about 8:15 right now. That’ll give you some time to rest before pre-op. I’ve also been told you have a special visitor, if you feel up for it.” Your heart lifts, and you can’t help but look expectantly up at Bob.

“Charlie?”

The hopeful lilt of your voice splinters something in his heart. He smiles, tight-lipped but genuine all the same, and nods.

“Uh-huh. I know you said the plan was post surgery, but your mom called saying they were up and ready to go. I figured you’d want to see him.”

“Yeah,” you say, voice high and thin, “yeah I’d like that.” Dr. Alvarado smiles.

“I’ll let them know. They’re all very anxious to see you.” You nod, tears slipping down your cheeks. Ordinarily, you try not to let Charlie see you crying. With the separation, you’ve been doing everything you can to be his rock. You remember how scary it was when you were a child to see your parents upset, or worse, hurt. But today, you don’t know if you’ll quite be able to manage it. Gracelessly, you swipe at the tears on your cheeks, but before long, Bob is at the ready again, tissue box extended toward you. You nod your thanks and clasp one in between your fingers. Blotting is much easier.

You’ve just about gotten it together when the door opens again.

“Mommy?” Charlie calls, and you hate how you can hear the frightened tremble of his voice. He makes it a few steps over the door jamb when he sees Bob.

“Daddy!” For a heartbreaking moment, wide eyes dart between the both of you, unsure of where to run.

“Go say hi to Daddy, sweetheart,” you say, heart swelling to see the reunion. Charlie beams and runs directly into Bob’s arms.

“Hey, big man!” he says, scooping Charlie off the ground in a strong embrace. “I missed you so much, little bear.” He presses a big kiss to your son’s cheek and is rewarded with a delighted giggle that has you crying again. Hurriedly, you dab at your eyes once more.

Your parents enter the room behind Charlie, your mother’s smile wavering and your dad’s brow furrowed. The braces make hugs awkward, but your parents’ presence is an enormous comfort.

“Charlie’s been very brave,” your father informs you. “And we’re all very glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” you say wetly, wishing you could hold their hands. “I love you guys.”

You cast a glance over to your left, where Bob and Charlie are engaged in conversation, faces close together and voices hushed. Watching Bob parent has always made your heart ache, even now when things have fallen apart. He was meant to be a father, plain and simple. People who don’t know him might expect a Navy man to be gruff, tough on a child, especially a son. But Bob is all gentleness when it comes to your Charlie. He is patient and invested and even though you two aren’t together, it’s difficult to imagine parenting Charlie with anyone else.

You tear your gaze away to talk with your parents, explaining what happened and asking about how Charlie has been coping over the course of the last few hours.

A few feet away, Bob has his son cradled close in his arms.

“I was really scared,” Charlie confides in him, “but I gotta be brave for Momma.” Bob’s heart breaks just a little, and he smooths a hand over Charlie’s hair. Perhaps this instinct to protect is just built into the little boy– knowing you and Bob, that’s a distinct possibility. But Bob can’t help but worry it’s a result of the split.

“You don’t have to be brave for Momma, honey,” he says softly. “That’s our job. Parents get to be strong for their kids, not the other way around. It’s okay to be scared when someone is hurt. And it’s also okay to express that. Especially with me and Mommy. And being strong doesn’t mean you can’t feel your feelings. In fact, being able to feel your feelings is a part of what makes a person strong, because some feelings are really hard.” Charlie listens to his father with rapt attention–– he always has. “But it’s important not to ignore them. Does that make sense?” He nods sagely when Bob is done talking.

Bob can’t help but smile, heart swelling with affection. It’s moments like these when he thinks he could leave it all if it meant getting to spend every second of every day with his baby boy.

“Should we go say hi?” he asks, bouncing Charlie gently against his hip. Charlie nods, his gaze flickering over to you.

Though you’re talking with your parents, you can’t take your eyes off of your son. Call it selfish, but ever since you’d been able to think straight you’ve wanted nothing more than to see him. You’re reaching out for him the second Bob starts towards you, but he gives you a look.

“With your leg?” he asks quietly, even though Charlie is right there in his arms.

“I still got one good one,” you quip,” and I think a hug is gonna help me get better much quicker. Besides, all my problems are below the knee— I’ll be fine.”

Bob has always had trouble saying no to you.

“Be gentle, okay bud?” Charlie nods.

Carefully, he sets Charlie down in your lap, positioning him mostly on your uninjured right leg.

“Hi baby,” you beam, the pain you’re in practically forgotten. “I’m so happy to see you!” Charlie snuggles immediately into your chest, eyes impossibly big when they look up at you. Tucking him under your arm is awkward, but you do it anyway.

“Hi Mommy,” he says quietly, like he’s afraid talking too loudly will hurt you.

“Hi,” you say again, matching his hushed voice, smile wider than it’s been for the duration of your stay. Bob stands slightly off to the side, feeling a little bit like an intruder. Still, he can’t help but watch the way your eyes sparkle when you look at your son. He’s never seen anything like it.

A gentle hand on his shoulder catches his attention, and he turns to see your mother, her expression warm. He counts himself incredibly lucky that your parents don’t hate him. Sometimes he hates himself for what happened, and yet they still treat him like one of their own. The three of them exchange hushed greetings, each thanking one another for taking care of the two of you.

Over in your hospital bed, you’re playing with the ends of Charlie’s hair. He’s been telling you about everything that happened between yesterday afternoon and now, cheerily informing you of how much he cried and how he got to choose what he and your parents had for dinner last night. You drink in every detail with enthusiasm, grateful as ever for his enormous heart and his resilience.

“I was really scared,” he says softly after a moment. You nod.

“I bet. I was scared too.”

“Daddy says it’s okay to be scared.”

“Daddy’s right, baby. It’s more than okay to be scared. It’s important— it’s how our brains keep us safe.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. You know how I’m scared of snakes?” Charlie nods. “Well, not every single snake is dangerous, right? But there are some that are. And because my brain remembers that some snakes are dangerous, I get a little scared when I see them. That fear is my brain telling me to be careful and stay safe.”

“So I was scared because it’d be dangerous if you got hurt?”

“Kind of! It can also be scary to not know what’s happening, right? Because if you don’t know what’s happening, it’s hard to get ready to deal with it. And it can be scary to know that something sad might happen, because it’s hard to feel sad.”

“I don’t like feeling sad,” Charlie says, nodding his understanding.

“Me neither, baby bear. But today I’m not even sad, because you’re here.” Your son’s cheeks turn pink and he hides your face in his chest. Heart swelling with fondness, you cross your arms over his back in an awkward embrace and press a kiss to the top of his head.

“Is it okay if I’m a little sad?” he asks, voice muffled by your hospital gown.

“Of course it is, sweetheart. You gotta feel your feelings. And feelings don’t last forever; they change all the time, right?”

“Right.”

Out of sight, Bob swipes a few tears from his eyes. He’s always proud of Charlie, but he’s proud of you, too–– with three limbs freshly out of working order, you would be well within your rights to be out of sorts, but there you sit, still parenting admirably. Beautifully, even. Your father squeezes Bob’s shoulder and he looks up, almost a little startled. Your father smiles and the two men exchange a nod.

Your mother steps over to your bed and pets a hand over Charlie’s hair.

“I think me and Grandpa are gonna go home for a little while, honey,” she says to him before looking at you and resting a hand on your shoulder. “Someone gave us a good scare yesterday and I don’t think either of us slept very well. We’re both a little worn out.” Suddenly, she seems to catch herself. “Unless you want us to stick around and––”

You shake your head and reach out an appreciative hand to cover hers.

“Go get some rest, Ma.” She nods.

“We will. But we’ll be back when you come out of surgery. Bobby told us he’d keep us updated.” Too tired to even think that far ahead, you nod.

“Thanks for looking after Charlie,” you say, tangling your fingertips with hers.

“Well, that’s my pleasure,” she says, pressing a loud kiss to her grandson’s cheek. “And we can figure out next steps, we’ll find someone—“

“Mom,” you say softly, “let's just— can we take things one step at a time for now?” She nods–– the anxiety of it all reads clear on your face.

“You know, you’re right. Let’s get you through surgery first.” You nod, grateful. “We’ll see you soon, then.” Your mother smiles and turns to get her bag. Charlie giggles as his grandfather comes over to playfully jostle his shoulders.

“Be good for your mom and dad, okay kiddo?” Charlie nods eagerly.

“That’s my guy,” your dad says fondly, giving your son a hug before turning his attention to you. “You give ‘em hell in there.”

“What,” you laugh, “in surgery? Dad, it’s just my wrist; I’m gonna be fine.” He shrugs.

“Can’t hurt though, right?” he says lightly, but you can see a glimmer of anxiety in his eyes. He leans down to kiss your cheek and you return the gesture.

“Right,” you affirm, softening. “I love you, Dad. I’m gonna be okay.” Your dad gives a final nod and links arms with your mother as they leave the room.

It’s so easy to forget that to him— to both your parents— you are still a child. Charlie is still so young, it feels impossible that he’ll ever be as old as you are now. Of course, you still marvel at the fact that he’s as big as he is; that he can walk and talk and do math equations and paint pictures. But it’s easier to manage how much he’s grown because you can still bundle him up in your arms and count on one hand how many birthdays he’s had. Maybe if you were having less of an emotional day, you’d be able to imagine what it’ll be like when he’s grown up, but you can feel tears welling up in your eyes again so you push the thought out of your mind.

“Mommy?” Charlie asks, bringing your attention back into the present.

“Mm?”

“Did Grandpa use a bad word because he’s very stressed?” Laughter sputters out of you before you can help it, and Bob raises an amused eyebrow.

“Yeah, baby,” you say, “I don’t think he was thinking very hard about which words he was choosing. He just meant that he wants my surgery to go well, that’s all.”

“It’s like telling someone to give it their all,” Bob explains, coming to sit down at your bedside again.

“It’s what Daddy does when he’s on a deployment,” you offer, curling your arm into something akin to a flexed muscle, “he gives ‘em heck.”

“And that’s what Momma’s body is gonna do when she’s in surgery. It’s gonna do everything it needs to do to keep her safe while she’s asleep.” Charlie looks between you two, worry creeping back into his features at the mention of the surgery.

“Hey,” you murmur, “I’m going to be okay, Charlie-bear. I promise. Sometimes things can go wrong during a surgery, but the likelihood of anything bad happening is very, very low.” Charlie nods, wide-eyed. “So there isn’t anything to worry about sweetheart. But it’s still okay to be scared, right?”

“Right,” comes his hushed reply. Your heart aches not to be able to soothe his anxiety, but you know there’s no sense in trying to talk him out of it–– especially in the wake of what you’ve been trying to teach him. Still, it seems to you that the rules shouldn’t apply to Charlie, with his delicate soul and enormous heart.

Bob lays a comforting hand on your son’s back and his little form immediately relaxes into the touch. The three of you sit in comfortable silence for a little while, but soon the door creaks open and Jermaine enters with a wheelchair.

“Is this Charlie?” he asks brightly.

“It is!” you chirp. The boy in question looks up shyly. “Charlie, this is my friend Jermaine. He’s been helping me since I got to the hospital.”

“Your mom is a tough lady,” Jermaine says warmly, squatting to be closer to Charlie’s eye level. “I promise we’re gonna take very good care of her.” Charlie nods.

“Pinkie promise?” he asks, heartbreakingly earnest. Jermaine smiles.

“You got yourself a deal.” He locks his pinkie with Charlie’s and stands up. “I’ve gotta take Mom for a couple of tests before her procedure, and then we’re gonna take her off to surgery. But you’ll get to see her in a few hours when she wakes up, okay champ?” Charlie holds on to you a little tighter and peers up at his dad, who nods encouragingly.

“Okay.”

“Mom is very lucky to have people that care about her so much,” Jermaine says. “You should be proud.” A little divot of determination forms between Charlie’s brows and he nods. Bob starts to stand and Charlie clambers around to give you one last hug.

“I love you Mommy,” he says. You squeeze him as tightly as you can and press a big kiss to his cheek.

“I love you too, baby bear. I’m gonna see you so soon, okay?”

“Okay,” he says, a heartbreaking waver in his voice. You give him another kiss before Bob scoops him up again, and before you know it, Jermaine is wheeling you off into the hospital halls.

Back in your room, Bob has Charlie wrapped up in a tight embrace.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, baby bear,” he coos, “everything’s gonna be okay.”

#something to rely on #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #top gun fanfiction #top gun reader insert #bob floyd reader insert #bob floyd x you #quinn writes #petcr3 writes #my writing #bruh im sweating #lewis pullman x reader #robert floyd x reader #ok fuck it we ball

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necros-writing-stuff · 2 months

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LAST ONE. I PROMISE. Eden and PCs relationship is very...heavy. It's very sexual, it's very ownership-type-beat. Now obviously we know from Vrel that all the LIs would be at least decent parents. But man. That's a small cabin, and with children around the dynamic between PC and Eden has to take a HEAVY change to be sustainable and not y'know...fuck up the kids mentally, forever. (And I personally doubt Eden, given who and how he is, would want a life like PC has and relationship like PC has, for his daughters.) So what do you think would be the biggest changes Eden would go through when kids started popping up around the house? What about when these kids become teens? Especially sons who start to challenge his rule of the "domain"? He's obviously very invested in the "what is his is his" mentality, and I worry that he would (maybe not outright and directly) feel like even his own children intrude on his domain, routine and relationship?

Disagreements between the two of you becomes a thing that happens behind closed doors - or on days when it's bad, hidden poorly under passive aggressiveness.

Sex between the two of you becomes a commodity to snatch at whenever there's a moments peace - a chance to feel that bond reaffirmed for Eden. He doesn't really care what it is for you. He never will, no matter how much he loves you.

His girls? Well, there's nothing that they can't do! They can be just like their brothers! No difference, not to Eden. Mommy is special, Mommy likes living this way - you all have to be like Daddy though. It's safest to be like Daddy. If you can't be like him, you should live with a sibling when you're older so they can keep you safe.

The ones who start biting back? Eden learns over the years how to create fear. He learns how to create boogeymen that keep the kids from questioning things. Learns what to introduce them to and promise its real. Like a cult. Of course, some start wanting to go. To find out what the world is like - but they were never raised for it. They'll come crawling back to open arms when they realise that no one out there has use for a tanner, a hunter, who can't even use a computer.

The family will keep them safe, and happy.

#spill your guts #alwaysdrinkenoughwater #eden the hunter #female reader #cw mental abuse #cw noncon mention

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mamawasatesttube · 8 months

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oh my god I need to tell you. so I. a while ago I did a whole bunch of research on touch starvation. and did you know babies literally die if they aren't touched and held. and did you know regular physical contact between a child and their caretakers is important for the child being able to self-regulate their emotions. and did you know that when someone hugs a child what happens is it syncs up their nervous systems. if the child is upset or scared their heart rate calms and they produce less stress hormones etc. and through that the child's body learns to do that on its own. so babies that die from lack of physical touch are literally dying of too much stress. and children who don't get enough touch can have problems like stunted growth, weak immune systems, low weight, and stunted mental and emotional development.

AND KON WAS GROWN IN A TUBE. HED NEVER EVER BEEN TOUCHED. AND THEN HE LIKE, ALMOST NEVER GOT TOUCHED IN A GOOD WAY

I mean granted, the scientists probably figured out a way to inject some kind of cocktail of hormones and chemicals to stimulate the physiological effects of touch so that kon developed properly but like. he never actually experienced it

Cadmus is like, we're gonna make a teenage clone in a test tube, this surely will not result in a kid so desperate for human connection that even terrible relationships will feel good to him

also I just think the first time kon got one of Martha or Jonathan's hugs he must have felt like he died and went to heaven. and at the same time felt really weird, like WHY DO I FEEL IT IN MY BONES WHY DO I WANT TO CRY

WAAAAHHHHH YEAH ABSOLUTELY YES YEAH DEFINITELY YES. touch-starved kon who doesn't even realize how desperate for human connection he is. this kills the man (me)

i just think if you put him in the middle of a group hug pile between ma, pa, and clark, he'd literally start bawling. he'd have no idea why and he'd be so embarrassed but he would just be so overwhelmed. because he has never had prolonged sustained physical affection in any healthy relationship before and he's only little and . AUGH!!!!!

incidentally the touch-starvation is part of why i think kon and bart are so so tactile especially with each other. "raised in a tube" and "raised in vr" both do not very much healthy human connection make. and bart's at least got his family around him but he still sees a kindred spirit in kon. so they will both simply snuggle even while bickering wildly about every topic under the sun just for bickering's sake. any and all friends are more than welcome to join the snugglepile; the toll is just that they have to put up with the konbart bickering game.

but god. god yeah. yeah it ruins me a little bit. he's just a little boy :( and he doesn't even know.

#answers #Anonymous #kon

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tepkunset · 1 year

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A little bit of history of the Mi’kmaq in Newfoundland

My name is Lydia-Isaac. I was born in Ktaqmkuk, but have spent most of my life in Sipekne'katik and Kespukwitk. As far as most people are concerned, that means I’m a Newfie raised Nova Scotian, but Newfoundland and Nova Scotia are simply built on top of the same territory known as Mi’kma’ki. As far as I’m concerned, despite moving around a lot growing up, I can at least say I’ve never had to leave my people’s homeland.

Pre-Colonization Travel

Evidence says that the Mi’kmaq of Unama’ki (Cape Breton) travelled across the Gulf of Saint Lawrence to Ktaqmkuk (Newfoundland) for seasonal hunting and fishing at least as early as the 16th century. Oral history says this goes back even further.

Relationship with the Beothuk

There are mixed historical analyses on what the relationship between the Beothuk and the Mi’kmaq was like. There is a common myth among settlers that the Mi’kmaq are responsible for the Beothuk genocide, pushing in on their territory and killing them on behalf of French settlers, whom the Mi’kmaq were allied to. This should be highly scrutinized and criticized for what it truly is: Displacement of blame onto another Indigenous Nation as a scapegoat. Most tales of hostilities between the Mi’kmaq and Beothuk come from English accounts. The one explanation we have from a Beothuk source, the captured woman known as Shanawdithit, said to one Bishop Inglis: “Originally they [the Beothuk] had intercourse with the Mi'kmaq and they could partially understand each other, and that the Mi'kmaq who have been visitors here for centuries were formerly on friendly terms but their enmity has been implacable and of the deadliest character for about 150 years.” According to this, hostilities only began after outside colonial pressures were in place. Make no mistake that those responsible for the Beothuk genocide are the settlers who hunted them and their resources, and spread deadly diseases.

Colonial Changes

The relationship between the Mi’kmaq and the land/its other living beings is not just one of harvesting resources, but a spiritual connection and responsibility. The principles of this relationship is known as Netukulimk, which guides the Mi’kmaw way of life. One of the core understandings of Netukulimk is the concept of Msit No’kmaq; the understanding that all spirits are related. (It is also worth mentioning that everything that casts a shadow has a spirit.) Therefore, a person is responsible to respect the life around them—that of the land, of the flora, of the fauna—just as you would respect another family member. When you harvest, you only harvest what you need. When you hunt/fish, you only hunt/fish what you need. And you offer thanks to that which you have taken from, every time. This way of life is one of sustainability!

Unfortunately, that sustainability was catastrophically interrupted by colonizers when Newfoundland came under British control. The caribou herds for example, which were a staple reliance for the Mi’kmaq and originally numbered up to 300,000, went near extinct. With this, so too came the astronomical death of the Mi’kmaq. John G. Millais wrote of Steve Bernard, a Mi’kmaw hunter and wilderness guide: “Steve is the sole survivor of eleven children born to old Joe Bernard, late chief of the Newfoundland Micmacs, all of whom have died from the bottle, consumption, or strains, the three principal causes which decimate the red men.” One survivor in a family of eleven children.

Those that survived this period of death were forced to largely assimilate into the settler’s society, but this too the settlers made a challenge. Getting a job as a Native person was near impossible, save for ill-paid work on the docks and boats. This is where the Newfinese slur jackatar/jack-o-tar comes from, the insinuation being that you are a poor grunt worker because of your race. (Employers denying work to Natives is still a problem today by the way, and the very reason that my family moved to NS.) It was not uncommon for communities of congregated Mi’kmaq to be forcefully relocated and then destroyed, such as Crow Gulch. In the 1870’s, Newfoundland established five reserves to try and control congregation: Conne River, Codroy Valley (Grand River), Halls Bay, St. George’s, and Gambo. But the only one still considered reserve land today is Conne River (Samiajij Miawpukek).

Joseph Fucking Smallwood

In 1949, Newfoundland joined Canada. When asked about the island’s Native population, Premier Joseph Smallwood falsely claimed there were no Indians in Newfoundland. This meant that the Mi’kmaq living on the island were not registered under the Indian Act, enabling the new province to ignore the People’s existence and rights. It also meant settlers were taught in schools the myth that all Indigenous peoples of Newfoundland were killed off, for a very long time.

Miawpukek First Nation

It wasn’t until 1987 that Miawpukek First Nation (Conne River) was federally recognized, after a long-time campaign from Indigenous activists on the island insisting they were not, in fact, ghosts.

But Samiajij Miawpukek is just one of many traditional Mi’kmaw communities, and that’s not even counting those living in urban areas. What about them?

Qalipu First Nation

Qalipu First Nation was established in 2011 by the federal government as an “easy” solution to catch all the rest of the Mi’kmaq in Newfoundland. The problem is, they were not expecting very many applicants—because of that old Joseph Smallwood-sourced myth—so they decided that the checks for applying for Status and membership were not required. This was a huge mistake, as it opened up doors for over 100,000 people to apply. Naturally, the Mi’kmaq of other provinces were rightfully cross with the government for this, and questioned the legitimacy of the Band.

It took nearly a decade for Qalipu leadership to sort out membership, limiting the number of members down to those actually involved with the Band, and making cultural participation a requirement. In 2019, the First Nation was recognized by the Mi’kmaw Santé Mawio’mi (Grand Council).

Today

Thanks to revitalization efforts, the Mi’kmaw language is making a come-back on the island after many decades of near extinction. With this comes the revival of practicing traditional songs, dances, artwork, and other expressions of cultural identity. To paraphrase from my uncle: it’s about relearning what was taken from us for so long.

What should come next, in my opinion, is the restoration of Netukulimk on a large scale. There are many who agree and are working on just that, so we’ll see what comes in the future of the island.

#indigenous #mi'kmaq #history #newfoundland #canada

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sotwk · 4 months

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I've always thought that the reason for Tolkien elves losing interest in sex after having the kids that they want is a by-product of his Catholicism. My mum was raised Catholic and she says that she was raised to believe that children were the thing that redeemed sex and that ideally sex wouldn't happen at all. (Idk if that's a universal experience but it was hers) So it makes sense that Tolkien's elves, as 'higher' more spiritual beings would be less sexual beings and so would not partake in sex after they'd had their kids. (Which is why I ignore that particular titbit of Tolkien lore😉)

Ooof! I'm quite familiar with Catholic teachings on sex, and it sounds like the values your mom grew up with were quite extreme! (Religious values and beliefs run across a very wide spectrum, but let's not invite debates on that!) That sounds a lot more like something Mrs. Kim from Gilmore Girls would say. LOL.

I admit I lean more towards the puritan, "higher being" interpretation of Elves, especially the Calaquendi who have seen the Light of the Trees. There has to be something that distinguishes them from the other Middle-earth races, and temperance when it comes to carnal needs and urges (i.e. sex, food), is one of those characteristics. So yes, Elves are less interested in sex than Dwarves, Hobbits, but especially Men, but even their appetites vary within their race.

When it comes to the SotWK AU's interpretation of Thranduil and his Elvenqueen wife, Maereth, here is a rundown of my take on it:

(My headcanons are mostly guided by what was written in the LaCE, because I'm a Type-A nerd who likes rules and manuals, but these are just MY interpretation of it. It's not hardline LaCE compliant either, and regardless, my takes are neither canon nor law!)

Thranduil and Maereth are descendants of Calaquendi, but had not made the journey themselves. Technically, Maereth is closer to the Light of the Trees and arguably more "blessed" in that manner, since her mother was born in Tirion (Valinor), as opposed to Oropher who never completed the journey.

Thranduil was always more free-spirited ("as wild as one of Araw’s Kine", Oropher described him in my fic "The Crown") than the average Sinda, and over the years became even more alike the Silvan people he ruled over.

Silvans are culturally more sexual than the Sindar or Noldor, not necessarily in the sense of being promiscuous, but rather that they take more pleasure in the act itself as way of bonding with their partners, not just for the sake of begetting children.

The Silvans do not lose interest in sex even after thousands of years, and are able to retain monogamous relationships with their partners because Elven bonds (platonic, familial, romantic, etc.) are as enduring as their physical immortality.

This is what helps the Silvan/Greenwood population endure through the millennia, throughout the "Mirkwood" dark ages, and into the Fourth Age and beyond in Eryn Lasgalen. They keep having sex, keep reproducing, and their population is sustained even through attacks and wars.

Oh, and culturally, the Silvans also love children and celebrate the process of raising them as a community. That's a key factor in their population growth too.

Thranduil and Maereth are, foregoing more eloquent terms, absolutely bananas for each other. Epic, epic, love along the vein of Professor Tolkien's love for his wife Edith, and its parallel romance--Beren and Lúthien. Could you imagine Lúthien replacing or loving anyone other than Beren? (I guess you can imagine anything in fandom, but I hope you get my point.) Well, it's the same with Thranduil and his Elvenqueen. It's a rather unpopular take on his love life, but that's how it is at least in the SotWK AU.

So yeah, they never tire of each other and never stop wanting each other, in any way, by any definition. They naturally stop begetting children after Legolas (their 5th), but the lovemaking definitely continues.

Sorry for the delay in this response, Anon--I hope you're still able to see and read this. And I hope the uncalled-for infodump makes it better, not worse! LOL. Thank you for the Ask!

#sotwk answers #anon asks #kind anons #i have the best anons #thranduil #thranduil headcanon #sotwk headcanon #elvenqueen maereth #sotwk ocs #silvan elves #mirkwood #mirkwood elves #tolkien #the hobbit #lotr #tw sex

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friskebits · 5 months

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CASEY JR IS SO SILLY SO HAVE A RANT ON HIM! So, we all know he was raised in an apocalypse, and there aren't any real life examples of how living like that would effect someone, but! I've been taking a intro to psych for a few months now and I might be wrong on a few things here so feel free to add onto this if u want :3 Moving on, you ever heard of Maslow's Hierarchy? No? Well here it is (and if you have just bear with me for a moment)

The way this hierarchy works is that in order to get to self-actualization, which is extremely hard to do in a normal world already, you need to have all the rows of this pyramid fulfilled, and Casey Jr was failed from step one. Obviously he was loved and cared for, but love and familial relationships come after physical needs. You can't build a pyramid starting from the third layer. Obviously the Turtles and Casey Sr and April tried their hardest but it's really hard to take care of a baby, especially with limited recourses and its safe to assume that every now and then he went hungry or was cold and didn't get enough rest, especially throughout his childhood. Obviously he grew up used to his unfortunate life so I'd like to think he sorta lived his own version version of this hierarchy, an unfulfilled one. Now with all of that out of the way, it's so wholeheartedly heartbreaking that this kid will never reach self-actualization which is literally basically just actually enjoying life, being creative, having fun in general pretty consistently. This fucking kid was failed from step one, and will probably never reach his full potential!

He was raised centered around one thing, stop the kraang. Having your entire life centered around one goal is really unhealthy, especially since he knows absolutely nothing outside of that goal. His entire conscious and unconscious mind is occupied with that goal. Even when he's safe and consciously is perfectly aware of his safety, his unconscious mind doesn't know that. Being in fight-or-flight mode for long periods of time isn't sustainable, it'll literally kill you, and he's been in fighting mode his entire life, sudden changes in setting and environment are gonna trigger that fight or flight response HARD. His first few weeks or months or hell even years with the present turtles is gonna be filled with him getting SO pissed at himself for still treating his life like he's gonna die at every turn, not to mention again going back to the pyramid, all of a sudden he's thrown into a place where he can fix himself and reach his full potential, but it's extremely possible that his constant need for a survival situation is a cardinal trait and he might not want to! It's very easy to get used to being scared, and it's very easy to assume he got really used to it.

Typically speaking after an extreme high (for Casey Jr, going to the past and saving the world) you get stuck in an extreme low. The relief we can tell he feels at the end of the movie is gonna be gone and fast. Not to mention the stress of being in an entirely new environment with people he knows that don't know him, being in a place where everyone else hasn't been failed in such a fundamental way the way he was, set up for failure from step one? This kid is NOT going to be okay for a VERY long time- and that's stacked on top of YEARS of ptsd and watching everyone he loves die, his entire being is out of place in the present and he breaks my heart because when you're in a place where you're so flawed, completely by yourself and stuck with people who will never understand your life, you're completely and utterly fucked.

(tags for friembs :3 @clanofjones @paytato435)

#this might not be the most coherent #I'll talk more about this another time I promise #I'm just so- AUGH #He just ruins me #this kid #this fucking kid bro #was fucked from day one #and I don't think he'll ever unconsciously recover #rottmnt #rottmnt casey jr #rottmnt casey #save rottmnt #rise casey jr #rise casey

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zmediaoutlet · 10 months

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(1) Hi Liz, happy WW! I have a random thought-thread I’d love your opinion on, and it kind of goes with this weeks WW theme of americana and american gothic!Usually in incestious stories the siblings don't have romantic/sexual relationships outside of their family. Its interesting that both Sam and Dean have had a good amount of "normal" relationships throughout their lives, yet the fandom can still see incest as a plausible endgame. (Even though, a few of these relationships are contested.)

(2) A big theme of the show is both of the boys longing for a normal apple pie/white picket fence life, and that want being contrasted with their fucked up family and deeper desires. The way I see it, their “normal” relationships throughout the show represent the standard American Dream of wife and 2.5 kids. On the flip side, Sam and Dean’s relationship with each other is the mirror-image of that American Dream: it is the dark, american gothic, forbidden ending. (3) So throughout the show, we see two examples of American ideals/lore playing against each other. My question is: Have you ever thought about this dynamic in SPN in comparison with other incest stories/lore? Or about how their past relationships tangled with Wincest paint a bigger picture of the American-ness of the show? (Could it ever REALLY be set in Canada? Haha!) I’d love to hear your musings, I hope this message made sense!

I apologize for not getting to this on WW proper but I have been a flat fuck this week and so I needed a bit of a running start! Thank you in the first place for such a thinky ask! I think I understand what you're getting at, but you'll have to indulge me as I think out loud --

American Gothic: technically literally just that one painting, because the barn had a gothic-style window for some reason. But gothic incest romance has all those flavors of isolation, and when you combine that with American suspicion of poverty and closed communities becomes -- turning inward, backwoods and a family that looks suspiciously at outsiders and gets up to all kinds of shit. The Benders, basically.

American Dream: committed spouse, a home to build a life inside, children as a legacy, being able to support and sustain yourself and be happy and more-or-less free while nevertheless contributing to society as a whole.

Now, whenever we're thinking about something, there are the bare facts and there's the presentation of those facts. Sam and Dean are outsiders to society, raised in a way that could easily make them cult-members, who fail to have successful external relationships and end up turning inward to live alone in a bunker while having a casual relationship to violence. On bare facts, that sounds pretty American Gothic.

...On presentation and feel, though, it really isn't, and that's because the Sam and Dean we meet are not Benders, nor are they the fic-versions of themselves that we meet in various AO3 stories that try to make sense of those bare facts with an entirely different presentation and vibe to the one in the show. Instead Sam and Dean are... really regular guys, 99% of the time. Despite the being-raised-in-motels and despite the violent job and despite walking midnights full of monsters... they have a really easy time with 'strangers', they do have external relationships (brief or not), they move through the world with confidence and ease. They aren't secret serial killers. They aren't deeply possessive and controlling of each other's thoughts and desires and actions (again, despite some AO3 treatments).

Instead, if we return to our two bullet points -- which one do the Winchesters as of approx. s11 (and certainly by the point of the post-15.19 period where the characterization-story ends) really sound like? Hopefully most would agree that they ended up getting that American Dream version they hoped for, even if the bare facts aren't necessarily the stereotypical ones that people name-drop. This is partly because the "wife" and the "picket fence" don't actually mean a female spouse and a literal boring 3br/2ba in the suburbs. What they mean is stability, comfort, safety, contentment. What do Sam and Dean have together at the end of the show? All of those things. Like, 10/10 on the rubric, guys. And they don't have it in a grimdark 'ah I suck your blood out of your balls every morning' kind of way -- it is presented as an unalloyed good thing. They're happy together, just as they are.

Now: that is fucking STRANGE. But it's wonderful in its strangeness. This is a show where the leads, being as basically normal as they are, 'should' have gone the more traditional wife et al route -- but they didn't need to, and the show didn't force them into that box. (By some miracle.) They have 'normal' relationships, as you say, but (just going off purely canonical ones) Jess and Amelia and Cassie and Lisa were never real options, because the show never presented them that way. There were the 'facts' that Sam or Dean was in a more-or-less committed relationship with an external person, but the feel was that these were offscreen, told-not-shown, and they never really mattered. Every one was only possible when the overarching ur-relationship, that of Brothers (because we don't have a better word for what they really mean to each other), wasn't possible at that moment. The show does gesture at how this is strange -- Lisa tells Dean that his fixation on Sam is bizarre; Sam realizes that he has to literally choose between a girlfriend and his brother -- but the return to the central relationship is always treated as the correct choice by the narrative and, this is crucial, presented as morally sound, inside the framework in which the show operates.

You can imagine another text -- a Crimson Peak or a Borgias or a Game of Thrones or a Flowers in the Attic or a Secret History -- allowing for those external-to-internal shifts and treating them as vile, disturbing, strange. Pale violent children who snap at people who try to help them get on the correct path. Normal people staring in at the freaks and saying, what are they? what happened to them? The only character I can think of in all of Supernatural who comes close to that attitude is Henriksen, and he's a 'villain' by the lights of that season, and is brought into the light (again, inside the moral framework of the show) where he realizes, ah, the Winchesters are the good guys, so it's fine.

That might be the everlasting difference between Supernatural and some of the shows where the incestuous couple falls into the gothic 'dark' side vs the American dream side. Sam and Dean are the good guys. They are literally on the side of light. The literal deity of the new framework of the universe is their little buddy and the world was literally designed with their story in mind. Regardless of what you might think about all those things, or wish they were otherwise, or wish the presentation were otherwise -- they're just true, and the presentation of them is positive. Sam and Dean are not evil and so their strange, fucked up, bizarre relationship must come around to being a good thing, or the show just -- doesn't work. Or it's an entirely different show. But Supernatural On The CW (2005-2020) was never going to have their heroes be secretly gnasty Lannisters, and so -- their reward, after all that trial and hardship, is to live the American Dream after all. Not in a dreamlike wife or picket fence but in the things that matter: security, and comfort, and family. And they really only ever needed one other person to be their family.

(P.S. 'What about Sam?' I hear a complainer complaining. To them I say -- he got the American Dream right the first time around. What he promised to Dean was to live and try out the more traditional version, which he might have always wondered if he'd missed out on. And he had that life! Good for him. Note that it passed in the space of a montage -- returning us to presentation and told-not-shown and the feel being that it didn't matter all that much, in the end, because what happens? He shows up on the bridge in the clothes Dean loved him in, with the face Dean remembered best, and he'd been waiting all those years to say -- I imagine, and I'll let this be fic here at the end instead of meta -- I tried it. I did what you asked. Now, here I am, and I'm never doing that again. I think Dean'll be all right with that.)

#answers #spn #spn meta #happy wincest wednesday #tbh bud i think one could write a book on this topic #but this is me with three cups of tea and a glass of wine #signing off with some excedrin

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leoleolovesdc · 5 months

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I would love to write a TTS essay explaining why Gothel isn’t Cassandra’s mother and Frederick and Arianna aren’t Rapunzel’s parents and the show’s insistence on pushing parent/child struggles into those characters is kind of really forced so that’s exactly what I’m gonna do:

(Disclaimer: this got really messy and is kind of a bunch of nonesense glued together, so read it with a bit of patiece lmao)

Rapunzel grew up for the first 18 years of her life with Gothel, when TTS starts she has been living with Fred and Ari for 6 months and it’s wild to me how Raps already calls them mom and dad, but I won’t judge this part, she wants to be their daughter and wants to be a family so it makes sense that she would call them that way regardless if it feels natural or not, but I think where the series really fails is when it starts (by the very first episode) to give Rapunzel and Frederick father-daughter struggles, which is complete bs if you ask me, those two don’t know each other. Rapunzel shouldn’t have a “oh, I can’t disobey my father” train of thought because she doesn’t even know him and therefore he isn’t her father, at least not yet. She shouldn’t be so trusting of his judgement of love for her because they don’t have intimacy and the fact that they are fighting and disagreeing so much after having just reconnected is wild. Arianna is not that important for the plot, but her relationship with Rapunzel being so unapologetically perfect also rubs me the wrong way. Rapunzel was ruined by her mother, she was abused her whole life and I don’t think she would just let anyone fulfill the role Gothel did without getting some therapy to unpack everything wrong that her mother, the one that actually raised her, did.

Rapunzel had a narcissistic mother, an awlful one who never loved her, but that doesn’t mean that she didn’t love Gothel. Raps lived her whole by that woman’s side, she loved her more than anything in the world and realizing the manipulation and abuse wouldn’t just immediately stop a person as kind and forgiving as Rapunzel to still love her like a mother, because like it or not Gothel raised her for 18 years. She wasn’t a good mother by any means but she was her mother nonetheless.

Another point is that at the end of season one Rapunzel goes away from Corona to explore, learn about the world and her own powers. I am not exactly sure how much time passes from the beginning to the end of s1 but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t more than 6 months, so Rapunzel lives with her bio parents for about a year and then goes straight into a one year long self discovery journey and you’re trying to tell me that she missed them? Not even just missed, but when she got hold of an artifact that showed what you waned the most what she saw were her biological parents and the people of Corona who in the first episode she claims to not remember the names of? That’s some real bs right there and I have no idea how the show runners thought this made any sort of sense. She doesn’t fucking know them, maybe she respects or care about her folks, but she couldn’t have possibly built this life long parent/child relationship that the show treats like she did.

Now, with Cassandra it’s a bit more complicated. She lived with Gothel for about four years of her life before being abandoned, but she very obviously didn’t remember any of this, either because she was too young or because she repressed those memories. Gothel didn’t seem to love Cass in the slightest, but because Cass grew up with only a emotionally distant father she longed for this reassurance that she was loved by a parent figure at some point in her life, she blames Rapunzel for everything that went wrong with her life, which can make sense but also is a bit awkward to sustain once you analyze the actual facts. Yes, Rapunzel and Eugene killed Gothel, but she didn’t mean to do that, it was Eugene’s plan and he only did it because Raps had literally agreed to be used and locked up from the real world for the rest of her life. Cass isn’t dumb, she would know better than lashing out at her friends for accidentally saving her from living with a narcissist who didn’t care about her. Gothel isn’t Cassandra’s mother, Cass doesn’t have a mother because she didn’t have anyone to actually raise her.

If I was to rewrite Tangled we’d have a very different approach to how bio parents are handled, especially Rapunzel’s. I don’t think she should be close to Arianna and Frederick at all, heck, I don’t even think she should call them mom and dad. Cause bear with me, if you randomly found ot you are adopted by the time you were 18 and actually went to live with your biological family for about a year do you think you’d even have this sort of intimacy and bond with them?

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chromaticramblings · 11 months

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book review - ecotopia by ernest callenbach

Ecotopia, written by ernest callenbach in the 1970s, describes a world in which the land regions previously known as northern california, washington, and oregon secede from the rest of the united states and create their own nation, the nation of Ecotopia. the principles of sustainability and circular economy are central to this new nation.

here are my thoughts on some things covered in the book, i hope that this reaches someone else who's read it and we can share thoughts!

(this will include spoilers. however, the nature of the book is not a narrative, and is rather a presentation of ideas. therefore reading this post will not ruin the book for you if you choose to read it)

one of the greatest thought experiments Ecotopia undertakes is that of ideal urban planning. in that respect, the book is pretty cool! they hypothetical nation of Ecotopia describes San Francisco as a central city hub, from which spokes of public transport emerge and run to smaller city towns. these towns take the place of suburbs, which were razed during the country’s Independence / reconstruction era. (wooooo!!) public transport abounds and runs at a high speed of 30 mph, which is all you really need since the urban centers are so densely built and multi use. Between city towns are managed forests (actual forests! not monocultures) as well as natural land which has been allowed to restore itself.

people live in flexible communes that typically work together to produce something, whether that be a farming commune, fishing commune, artist communes, or business / science communes that invent things. everyone has a universal base income that is just minimal enough to reasonably get by, allowing people to pursue art or a risky startup without fear of dying. which i think is really cool! necessity breeds innovation yes but you need security too. work culture in Ecotopia is also vastly different, as the boundary between work and leisure and personal time is eroded, which may seem like a bad thing but the consequence of the UBI system means that most Ecotopians actually Like their work and choose to do it of their own free will. crazy huh.

houses are typically made of wood, which to me raised a suspicion flag, cause this is the Bay Area we’re talking about, which is Humid as Shit, and the Ecotopians have phased out paint due to it containing heavy metals. which good for them i guess but those houses are gonna rot lmfao. i took the liberty of imagining they are proofed with sealant made from the biodegradable, non petroleum based plastic the Ecotopians had developed and manufactured. while wood is the building material of choice, houses are also built from large tubes of insulated bioplastic, which are joined at the whim of the family or commune creating the house. (there are no architects, everyone builds their own houses themselves to suit their needs.) these houses are cheap and accessible, and zoning laws seem to be nonexistent, making homelessness a nonissue.

in terms of materials, everything in Ecotopia is renewable and has a full zero waste lifecycle. wood is the material of choice. the only metal Ecotopians use comes from scavenged cars and machinery of the pre seccession era. Ecotopians still manufacture plastic, but most kinds of it are fully biodegradable in a few days. when a lasting material is needed, a different type of plastic is used; this kind will not degrade until it is in full contact with soil. given how important disposable plastic is for applications such as research, i'm glad this was considered and accounted for in this book instead of throwing it off as a "we don't need plastic anymore kumbaya" kinda vibe.

culture wise, there is a lack of emotional restraint which the book’s narrator, a visitor from NYC, frequently comments on. hugs and physical affection between all relationships and genders are normalized. there also seems to be an insistence on small talk as a way to humanize those working “lesser skilled” jobs. honestly i found this a bit annoying, as i don’t think small talk is necessarily indicative of human connection, and that a truly emotionally attuned people would be okay with giving space when necessary. but i thought it was nice to acknowledge that all people are people, even while working “subservient” jobs.

ok so those were the things i liked.

criticism #1.

WILLIAM WESTON STOP BEING A FUCKING MISOGYNIST CHALLENGE

alternatively:

ERNEST CALLENBACH WRITE ONE (1) WOMAN WHO ISN’T A SEX OBJECT CHALLENGE

NO, THE WOMAN WHO YOU DESCRIBED AS UNATTRACTIVE WHO ALSO HAPPENS TO BE IN A POSITION OF POWER DOES NOT COUNT

god jesus christ

over the course of his adventures, journalist William Weston encounters many fellows (men) and new friends whom he talks around the fire with (men). he also encounters Marissa, a beautiful wild woman, exotic and mysterious who runs through the forest, cares deeply for trees, stares into his soul with her plain face and round dark eyes, and has sex with him twenty four hours three hundred sixty five days a year.

he also encounters Linda, an attractively sarcastic yet caring nurse, who nurses his injuries, jacks him off, and consumes him with thoughts of when he “will be healed enough to fuck her properly”. (direct quote)

in addition to the misogyny, there appears to be a fair amount of gender essentialism in Ecotopian society, something I found disappointing. Ecotopian clothes are sharply gendered. (from my understanding of Ecotopian values, i’d expect everyone to be wearing skirts due to the ease of manufacture and resulting ease of movement.) women are described to have an “air of fertility” (yes, actually). the governing party is made up of women, due to womens’ “natural competency regarding cooperation and diplomacy rather than competition”. the only sport in the country, the ritual war games, is barred to women. (it’s actually remarked later in the book that in Ecotopian psychology offices, it is often women who come in with issues of untamed aggression, and attributes it to their exclusion from the games. i wonder what a solution could be 🤔) thankfully work is not gendered, but it appears the social spheres of men and women rarely intersect, as Weston socializes and discusses ideas with a fair amount of men, and no women. perhaps for the better, as he’d be too distracted trying to fuck them to have a discussion of any substance.

queer pairings are also mentioned offhand, but they serve the purpose of emphasizing the Ecotopian's open attitudes towards sex and intimacy. queerness is treated as a sexual quirk rather than as an orientation.

in addition to the disappointing sexism / heterosexism, there's a good amount of racism. different races live segregated. although this is a conscious choice by the inhabitants, it still strikes as somewhat odd that there wouldn't be a way for humans to maintain their culture while living in an integrated society. many of the barriers to race equality in our current system are abolished in Ecotopia; the cheapness of the bioplastic houses makes it accessible for anyone to own a house anywhere, and the ease with which people can start their own enterprises reduces employment barriers significantly. therefore i'd expect integration between races to be a significant achievement of the Ecotopians. the writing itself is also racist. callenbach makes distinctions while describing the cultures of the nonwhite populations that make it clear that white is the default of Ecotopia, and all other cultures are side notes. also, callenbach makes no mention of an Ecotopian prison system (an aspect of society that no doubt merits analysis) until he mentions the Black community. sir what is up with that 🤨

there's also a lot to be said of callenbach's treatment of Indigenous ideas. the Ecotopians take a lot of inspiration from classic Indigenous principles, such as living in balance with the earth's natural resources and respecting nonhuman life, and Indigenous clothing styles. however, this feels rather appropriative rather than appreciative, and there are no actual Indigenous characters in the book. i would expect that such an empathetic society which takes direct principles from Indigenous culture would appreciate and honor the Indigenous people within that society rather than just shamelessly taking their culture, especially given the context that Ecotopians are ex citizens of the united states, the country which caused the Indigenous communities in that area so much harm.

overall, i think this book's strengths lie in its rethinking of what society could be like without work as its central focus. i love the UBI system, the reduced work week, and the attitude of work as something to enjoy rather than something to get over with. i also love that the nation's economic fall wasn't skipped over. i think its important to realize that many policies which would improve human health and quality of life would also lower our GDP, and that maybe that's perfectly fine. maybe human lives matter more than how rich a nation is. despite all these strengths, however, the sexism and racism cannot be overlooked; they made me almost put the book down several times. this book is clearly a product of its time, written by a white man. in keeping with good critical thinking practices, its important to recognize what ideas are good to keep and what needs to be thrown out.

tldr: great ideas about an alternative structure for society, unfortunately sexist and racist as well. 6/10

#gonna spam tags in hopes that it finds someone who's read it •_•#ecotopia #ecopunk #solarpunk #urban planning #utopia #sustainability #ecology #sci fi novels #sci fi #environmentalism #currently reading #books #bookblr #politics #public transportation #ernest callenbach #UBI #book review

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v3nusxsky · 9 months

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So yeah, the other piece was great. And thinking about it I must have chosen pain when I wrote it. But reading it through did give me the idea for a potential part 3.

With it being Emily and Y/n in Paris together under their fake identitys. Letting them be safe together and able to heal from both Emily's 'death' and how Y/n spiralled to try and take her own life in response. So it would probably be a hint of angst but mostly be fluff. Thay way this small series can end happily. :)

Time Heals

*Authors note~ part 3 let's goooooo! I'm in love with this little series and this is a perfect end to it*

Trigger warnings~ mentions of faked death and a suicide attempt alludes to smut

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~previously~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No! No you can't leave me! No not again. No!" You volume raising the more that sunk in, "I just got you back" you whimpered causing JJ to come closer in an attempt to comfort you. "Get the fuck away from me!" You almost growled, "I can't stand you right now" you spat at the blonde and Hotch before snuggling into your undead lover. Hotch explained the plan and reasons why and again apologised for having to lie but it was for Emily's safety. This time you would leave with Emily, for your safety and hers. When the team caught Doyle you could return home to your family. But for now you and Emily were shipped off to Paris once more with false identities to heal and grow from this. If it's possible for you two to repair the hurt you both sustained."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The plane ride to Paris was silent and truthfully you were happy for that, you were trying to process what you'd just been told. You and Emily sat next to each other, you holding onto two of her fingers in a hope to provide Emily some comfort but also to reassure yourself that she is in fact real. You knew that your relationship would need some work, Emily's faked death caused so much hurt and pain for you but for you to attempt to take your life was killing Emily on the inside. She could've lost you that night, JJ couldn't keep her in pairs after that.

Arriving in Paris, Emily immediately began to lead you through the hustle and bustle of a late night in the city of love. Paris is one of the places you truly found beautiful and if you were in a different situation, you would've been like a child on a Christmas morning to be here with your lover. Instead, you just kept your head down following the raven haired woman. Emily was uncharacteristically quiet the whole journey and when you both arrived at the hotel you were staying in you realised you'd have to talk.

"Em" you whimpered quietly hoping to gain her attention which you got. She turned to face you with self loathing and sadness swirling in her beautiful eyes. "I'm sorry Angel, I really didn't have a say in what happened. I never wanted to hurt you darling. And the thought that you could've taken yourself from the world just-" her words trailed off her true upset. "I don't want a life without you Ems" you mumbled sadly looking at the ground, "it felt like the only way out to find you Em."

"Angel, i can't lose you like that, please promise me never again" she demanded and you found yourself nodding in compliance, "I don't want a life without you Emily, but I don't want to die either" you murmured before throwing yourself into her arms. "Shh darling you don't have to live without me, never again okay? I'm here I'm alive and I'm yours angel." Her reassurance and actually being able to her heart steadily beating along as she held you tightly to her chest was helping to soothe all the hurt of the past few months. Emily was here and alive and most importantly with you. Perhaps this time in Paris would do the world of you some good. But first thing first was sleep for you both.

Waking up back in Emily's arms was like heaven on earth. And to see her sleeping peacefully on her back as her raven hair fanned around her head you couldn't help but full in love all over again. While your lover slept you admired her features noticing all the changes, the worry lines and darker shadows under her eyes, her body seeming more frail than before. Yes she was still as beautiful as ever. Your hand absentmindedly lifted her sleep shirt to expose the scar the Doyle caused. Red and angry in the healing stages, you knew Emily had to be taking the permanent reminder hard. Then trailing your hands up further you were met with the brand he gave her. A sweet kiss was pressed to the brand then on the scar again.

It wasn't long till you were trailing kisses down her body addicted to the soft sleepy whines and whimpers she was realising. You didn't realise just how drunk on Emily you could get but here and now you didn't care. You'd missed this woman for months and now she was here and alive you couldn't help but want to ravish her. To show her how important she truly is to you and just how beautiful she is even with the new additions. Now at her thighs you noticed another new addition, a small yet simplistic tattoo written in French "mon cœur ne se lassera jamais de y/n" I will never get tired of Y/n displayed there where only you would see it and herself.

"Angel?mmm feels good" she yawned sleepily only really processing that you happened to be showering her body in sweet kisses. "You're beautiful Em" you whisper before coming up to kiss her lips and now your sure. You and Emily can survive this, together. And what better place to spend some time alone together than in the beautiful city of Paris. Everything would be okay now, a kiss was truly all you needed to feel at home.

Word count~ 1026

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #emily prentiss x reader smut #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x reader #ssa emily prentiss

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jameui · 2 years

Text

THE END

PAIRING: Choi Yeonjun x M!Reader

GENRE: Angst

WARNING: a rather finale, a bittersweet ending

You found yourself laughing at the works you have worked on these past few years, hearing a chuckle at your front door that took your attention as you moved your eyes towards its direction to see Yeonjun who had his side leaning on the door frame with a proud smile riding on his lips. You gasped and got out of your bed as fast as you can to run to him, the blonde male pulling himself away from where he leant opening his arms as you threw yourself into him and let yourself get engulfed by the warmth his body gave off. "You look so happy, Y/N. Mind if I ask what's it about?" He asks you out of curiosity, his inner cat waking up so early in the morning.

You laughed at Yeonjun and lifted your head up to look at Yeonjun, your sparkling E/C orbs making contact with his, the other male giving you another smile. "Remember when I told you I used to post my imaginative fanfictions on a social platform?" You questioned him, the yellow haired male almost forgetting all about it before a memory popped up in his head, nodding in reply. "Well, I might have actually bought ourselves a ticket down memory lane." You told him, Yeonjun widening his eyes before shaking you in an encouraging manner.

Yeonjun was the most proud of you when he knew about your career in the past. He can't actually call it a career, more like a hobby and made anyone who had their eyes on your works happy and it received so much hype that you continued to do all these things that you have wanted to do for so long. Yeonjun once pushed you to get back on track, but you told yourself that it was already in your past and that everyone have already forgotten about you and maybe even your works. Although, the truth is that they haven't and actually felt a little bit down that they haven't heard from you since then.

Besides, you already grew up into becoming a mature adult and already moved on from your past. You just seem to not be bothered anymore by the attention, but deep inside you you knew you missed the people you met unexpectedly only because of this hobby you initially planned as a work to pass time. You really miss the communication and relationship you created in that community. This might all seem so bad, but you have more good things to focus on more. You were already working, sustaining a family you will one day have with Yeonjun when the time finally comes where the both of you becomes ready to become a parent. For now, you settled at becoming fur parents, having one Golden Retriever, you named Skye and one Pomeranian, Yeonjun named as Jammy.

Back to the present, Yeonjun plants a kiss on your cheek as you giggled at the contact of his soft plump lips on your face. "Well, are you going to show me, babe?" He raised you a brow, while you pretend to think about it. Yeonjun rolled his eyes before lifting you up, emitting a squeal from you all the while laughing, then placing you down on the bed, Yeonjun hovering above you. "Show me, darling."

You scoffed at him, sighing with a nod of your head. "Just so you know, I was an amateur writer and basically didn't know a thing back then compared to now." You told him, Yeonjun vigorously nodding his head happily. You chuckled at his cute actions, his hair bouncing along with him. You passed to him your laptop, leaving him with it,, remembering that Yeonjun had just came home from travel and probably hasn't eaten yet, so you made your way to the kitchen to cook him breakfast.

A few minutes in and you hear footsteps coming down the stairs as you were frying the the eggs and saw Yeonjun with tears in his eyes, your eyes going wide as saucers as you turned the stove off and made your way to Yeonjun. "Oh my goodness, Yeonjun. Why are you crying? Did you hurt yourself again? I told you to be careful." You tut your tongue wiping the tears from off his face.

"I didn't.. hurt myself. You just really had to end it like that?" Yeonjun asked you covering his eyes with his forearm, making you laugh at him, then hugging him upon assured that he wasn't hurt. "Why are you laughing?" Yeonjun sobbed, only delievering more laughters from you.

"I'm just... glad."

Later on that night, when it was already bed time, you tucked yourself in bed after having just read your one last letter to all your readers before you left, not wanting to have them wait for more updates from you only to know that the blogger, you had already left this on its own to grow. With a smile on your face and contented heart, you closed your eyes for the day as you drift off to dreamland.

GOOD MORNING, AFTERNOON, EVENING, MIDNIGHT, MIDNOON TO YOU ALL MY DEARIES! So, I as I have said before I may not be updating as much anymore as I have already started to... well, find things that should be considered as top priority. Just so you all now, I started writing stories when I was still very young. Maybe at the age of 11? Anyways, back then, I only wrote on papers and shared them with my brother for him to read and you know, looking at it now, I could pretty much say there have been a lot of improvement based on the style of writing and the language I use.

I stopped for a while on my writings until I had turned 14. During that long pause, I actually thought 'Hmm, maybe writing isn't for me', but I found myself surrounded with people who loved my works and actually pushed me to do more and then maybe I can grow.

And fortunate enough, I did. I started on wattpad, not a promotion, but unless... ANYWAYSS! On that platform, I found people who I treated as family and I want to use this opportunity although they might not be able to see this, but thank you! Thank you for being one of the reasons for me to move forward ❤️

And by the time my account grew, I started to think there are still a lot of people who haven't seen my work and so I decided to put on a show in Tumblr. That's where I am now. My reasoning may have been selfish, but hear me out. I wanted to show my works to a lot of people as a way of encouraging them and inspiring them and become a good example of growth. You know, I literally started from the bottom and look at where I am now? So, I thank all of you for it, my wonderful, beautiful, pretty, absolutely, handsome readers. If It weren't for all of you, all of this wouldn't have happened. It completely feels to me like a real dream come true. Skye and Jameui would be nothing if it weren for you dearies.

So, thank you. All of you, really. For now, as of the moment, this is Jameui, Skye, Hyujin, a friend, signing off.

#x male reader #male reader #bxb #fanfiction #idol x male reader #bottom male reader #kpop #angsty #txt yeonjun x male reader #txt x male reader #final message #kpop x male reader

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eventideluminary-games · 4 months

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https(:)//www(.)tumblr(.)com/eventideluminary-games/738427285207728128/ask-game-for-someones-ocs?source=share

Is it possible to have🍕❤️🌂🍎🧠💎💀🎓 for everyone including yourself? Please -sarah

Sure! I wasn't sure if by 'yourself' you meant me, as the writer, or the MC, so I just went with MC since I'm not really an OC LMAO

Ask Game for the ROs (and the MC!)

Alceste

🍕 - Alceste's favorite food is probably some kind of roasted game-y meat dish. Think like venison or pheasant.

❤️ - Probably when he went to the Shorelands with his family after Orin was born. He had begged his mothers to take him and his sisters to the Shorelands and they said no, but after Orin was born, they surprised him and his sisters and took them there.

🌂 - I was going to say romance, maybe, but decided against it. He's right where he should be.

🍎 - Fantastic. Claudia and Regina are great mothers to Alceste and his siblings.

🧠 - He's so nuanced, he honestly seems to have a life of his own! Every time I sit down to write him, I learn more about him that I didn't even know about LMAO!

💎 - Maybe if there's demand for a sequel, but not in the first book.

💀 - Snakes. Alceste HATES snakes.

🎓- About... a month or so? He's newer than some of the other characters!

Larisilla

🍕 - Fruity Chocolatey Desserts. Larisilla has a horrible sweet tooth, probably worse than Enyo!

❤️ - When her mother got her her first sword. Larisilla was probably about 12 and she was so happy.

🌂 - Something that involves fighting. A more serious fantasy with more fighting would be ideal.

🍎 - Larisilla and Eunomia get along fantastically. Larisilla and Deimus? Bad. Horrible. 0/10.

🧠 - She's easy to write. Writing for her is so smooth it's like water. Unfortunately, it's easier for me to write her than come up scenarios for her.

💎 - Haha, so... slight spoiler! Larisilla doesn't die, but you can lose her permanently from the group.

💀 - Spiders.

🎓- About the same time as Alceste. They were created together like the worst pair of twins to be thought of ever LMAO

Dionys

🍕 - Honestly, I'm not sure! I don't think Dionys has one.

❤️ - Graduating from the Hall of Scholars or becoming Head Scholar.

🌂 - Dionys would probably work better in a true mystery genre, but he's here so he just has to deal!

🍎 - Eh. Well enough. Dionys wasn't really raised by his parents, mainly his Aunt Erato, so they don't really have any relationship to speak of.

🧠 - Dionys is another interesting character to write!

💎 - Nope.

💀 - Dionys doesn't have any phobias, but he's easily grossed out.

🎓- A little less than Alceste and Larisilla. Probably only by like a week, though.

Somnia

🍕 - Somnia is a fan of any kind of cooking from her home village, specifically her mother's.

❤️ - Probably when her parents took her to go fishing! The Fieldlands sustain themselves on fishing and farming, so Somnia enjoyed the day out!

🌂 - Somnia probably belongs in a true fantasy romance genre.

🍎 - She had a wonderful relationship with her parents! She's still close with her mother!

🧠 - Not sure! She's different than the rest, so it's a bit harder to figure out!

💎 - I've considered it, but decided not to.

💀 - She doesn't really have any!

🎓- Around the same time as Dionys and the others.

Enyo

🍕 - Desserts. There's a reason their knives all are named after them.

❤️ - Probably when Meliae was nice and gave them an orange.

🌂 - I think Enyo's right where they should be!

🍎 - Enyo's relationship with Meliae and Phonus is bad, at best. They don't really view them as parents, but rather employers.

🧠 - Enyo's quite different than the other characters I've written before. I've never written a happy, excitable, childish character before!

💎 - Yes, but I don't. You do have the opportunity to lose Enyo from the group, but that happens at the end of Chapter 8.

💀 - No phobias, but a few fears.

🎓- Similar to the others!

🍕 - Player determined

❤️ - Not sure! Definitely something to do with Adalia though!

🌂 - They're right where they should be!

🍎 - It's described in game, but MC gets along well with their father, but they had barely any relationship with their mother.

🧠 - Like Larisilla, writing for them comes very easily!

💎 - Yes, but I won't.

💀 - No phobias, just normal fears or icks

🎓- It must be at least 10 years now? LMAO! I've had this idea since I was a kiddo!

#under the eyes of themis #eyes of themis #uteot #asks #if: alceste #if: alceste emeraude #if: enyo #if: larisilla cornaline #if: enyo perle #if: somnia disthene #if: dionys topaze #if: dionys #if: somnia #if: larisilla #ros react #ask game

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askthestans · 1 year

Note

Do any of you use the door? Like at all? Also can one of you break the fourth wall-

Stanford: I would use the door if it were more efficient. I only have about thirty years left on this Earth, and I must discover all that I can and be criminally under-recognized for it before my time is up.

Be it shaving my face with fire, sustaining myself with vitamins, jelly beans, and Mabel Juice, or jumping out the window instead of using the door when an opportunity presents itself to enact revenge on the Mothman... shortcuts are necessary when science and justice are at stake.

Except... scratch that Mothman part. I searched the forest around my house for hours, but alas: not a single shadow or trail of silver dust to be found. And to think I fired up my Schrödinger rifle for nothing...

Stanley: Ford, would ya give up on that guy? What's all this about him stealin’ your money, anyway? He’s a Mothman! It’s not like he could just walk up and use cash at a store. Maybe someone else nabbed it?

Stanford: No, I’m certain it was him. Mostly because he also stole my action figures once. And my cologne. And my liverwurst and sauerkraut sandwich. And my Dead or Alive album, now that I think of it.

Stanley: Sounds like a world class thief. I can respect that. Although I do question his taste in stolen goods.

Stanford: As for breaking the fourth wall, hmm... gonna have to fire up my Ability Score-ifier watch. Usually it’s for raising my points in Constitution and Strength on monster hunts - on account of my natural lack in these areas - but this situation requires something I’d never thought I’d need: Charisma.

Stanley: You do know sentences like that are why I’ve been pryin’ ‘Kick Me’ signs off your back since we were kids, right?

Stanford: Damn! I forgot it was busted from that time I let Mabel use it for a test at school. Well, let’s try fourth wall breaking with my natural Charisma score. Which is to say, negative two.

Alright, well.. *ahem*.

Look into these eyes. Do you see them? See how brown and real and mysterious they are under the glare of my stylish glasses?

Stanley: Ford? Ford, you’re scarin’ people!

Stanford: If you glance closer, you’ll be able to tell that these are not eyes of a cartoon man whose entire existence was theorized by obsessive nerds on the internet for months before I was actually revealed in the show, showing the creator he was not as clever as he thought he was. Nor are they the eyes of a cartoon man who has crossed enough dimensions to know I was created by a goateed, plaid-wearing manchild to illustrate the folly of pride, fragile ego forged in the fires of insecurity, broken familial relationships, daddy issues, and that nerdy old men are, in fact, incredibly attractive, myself far more so than any jerks named Rick or Rand.

I can see your own eyes already glossing over at this text wall. No, do not skip ahead. Do not pass this by. If you do, I’ll know, because I’m watching you. Blink once. Can you see me now?

These are the eyes of Stanford Filbrick Pines, in the real reality, looking at the cartoon show that is the life all of you reading this are living. You’re on my TV, with all your faults and mistakes bared for my entertainment, sold to me to prop up an empire of a dystopian, monopolistic media company and to soothe the crushed willpower of a man who has battled their S&P department for far too long.

Tell me, would you like it if I wrote stories about your daddy issues and brotherly abandonment? Drew you in a red speedo? What if I sent questions to an ask blog about you made to fill a void in the heart of its womanchild maker after your show was finished?

Reminded you that, yes, your creator abandoned you to work on other things that include some jerk named Rand. And so you were left behind to relive an entire life of regrets in infinity, with only a shred of happiness upon a boat at the end. Only for it to be ripped away the moment your show ends because... that’s it. There was no more.

How many times have you lived your life? How many times has your story been replayed? Do you even exist? Or are you made of pure imagination and the sweat, blood, tears, repressed emotional issues, and other fluids of animators and writers who have left you behind?

We are all abandoned in this universe. Creations by a creator who has long since moved on to tell other tales so that they, too, can live on in infinitely replayed stories once their own has ended; mere blood sacrifices to fuel a god’s immortality. Also because they need to put food on the table, I suppose.

Blink once again. I’m a cartoon man again, aren’t I? Or am I? Now you can’t be certain. Is the cat alive or dead? Real or unreal? You can only know if you’re brave enough to observe.

So tell me: what is this fourth wall you speak of? An illusion. Because you see - or don’t see, rather - the only difference between you and I is that I know who and what I am and what I was made for. I know there is no fourth wall between us save for your own abysmal score in Perception.

Stanley: Y’know, existential crises are pretty funny. That’s why I laugh a lot. Because I have them every day. Also, never break the fourth wall again, Ford. Or tell anyone to risk gettin’ PTSD by starin’ into those wrinkly, dark-circled pits you call eyes.

(OOC: Psst... all hail Jason Mahn, the Ford cosplayer in the picture above. Credit/linky: https://www.reddit.com/r/gravityfalls/comments/sf9b2p/the_real_life_ford_pines_cosplayer_jason_mahn/)

#gravity falls #stanley pines #stanford pines #the best part is that I was the one that made that original big stan twin theory post that blew it up in the fandom #so if Hirsch and crew are gonna sass me and the other fans by breaking the fourth wall in the show #then dammit so am I gonna sass them with my own fourth wall breaking #years later because I'm petty too #it better align with my fanfic indeed my friends #also I did predict that like a year ago you fiends!#sorry for cracking the code so early Hirsch but the nerdtastic gloating I got to do was worth it #not that he'll probably ever read this but if he does: better luck hiding your plot twists next time goat man #askthestans

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adanseydivorce · 2 days

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emison, nationalism, time loops

(For the send me a ☕️ + topic ask game)

Emison — I generally like them, not without caveats but the parts of it that are good (by good I mean the more messed up parts) are really good and compelling to me! Have said before that *peak* Emison era to me is 4b-5a. The era when Emily has just learned Ali is alive and is reckoning with all her different complicated feelings about her, trying to tell herself she’s over Ali but then repeatedly acting in ways that prove how much of a simp for her she still is (things like “You always saw the best version of me” “I don’t see that anymore” *proceeds to go to the kissing rock* *gives Paige lengthy speech about how she’s finally over Alison* *stashes money for Alison, meets her in abandoned warehouses and makes sure to dress hot before*) I eat that kind of dichotomy up in general for my ships! And there was great work for Emily as a character there to me, in having a space for her anger and also her messy feelings, and because Alison is now alive but not concretely *back* the writing was still fun and ambiguous regarding her morality, how much of her was real and how much was either performance or the liars in this case Emily specifically projecting onto her. … And 5a there was really good longing and pining and again, just enough emotional nuance to keep things interesting. The flashbacks in s1-3 are overall good for them too / I enjoy the whole character is haunted by their first love with who they had miscommunications with and the ambiguity will haunt them forever and influence all their future relationships thing so yes I was mostly a fan, but that mid season arc was what really gave me *feels*. And then the show just never did anything interesting again… In general I’ve been vocal about the fact that I almost never like storylines about pregnancy and raising kids for chars and dynamics I like unless the writing does A Lot of work to convince me to like it… so you can imagine that I was Not A Fan of one that was incredibly lazy with a side of bodily autonomy violation (that is never addressed as such…*sigh*) coupled with other issues I have with misogyny and homophobia in pll (and racism too regarding Emily) and how the way *canon era* Emison was ultimately done played into a lot of said issues. Then the perfectionists wise on a watsonian level it’s not that I necessarily hate the divorce, especially since I’m on record as often advocating for divorce for ships I like <3 but the lack of Emily actually being present robs that of the character work potential it could have for both of them, and then on a Doylist level I do Hate the implication that They’re the toxic horrible relationship that can’t be sustained while Ezria and even then other het relationships that aren’t as insidious but still had major problems are totally fine to be together 4 evah *barf*.

So basically the sum of my Emison feelings is that I do like them, aside from maybe Emaya they’re my favorite canon pll ship, but it is one of those ships where I feel a lot of what I like and find interesting about them either wasn’t intentional or wasn’t a priority when it came to the writing. The Emison I would have written >>>. But I do appreciate when the show was aiming for more than a typical cookie cutter wlw ship with them, and I side eye some wholly negative takes on them that dismiss that and why it would appeal to sapphic fans over it not being purely wholesome and sweet.

Nationalism — I don’t think I have any groundbreaking takes on nationalism as a concept, I think the best use of it is advocating for a country’s freedom/independence so it’s not really a useful sentiment for countries like the U.S. or UK etc. that are already recognized / have political power and are more likely to pose harm to ones that don’t and are founded partially on colonialism. My pov on it is as someone who’s a U.S. citizen / born there but spends a fair amount of time in Pakistan because it’s where my family is from but also I obviously have privilege to be mobile in terms of traveling which many don’t … so I guess my stance is as a concept in general nationalism can be neutral or a good thing but for a U.S. context it’s more likely to be negative for the world in general.

Time Loop — I generally like time loop stories I think they can be really fascinating, I don’t think I actively seek out time loop media but when it turns up in something I like I’ll be excited for it! Some favorites of mine are “Life Serial” the Buffy episode very on brand of me to insert Buffy into the conversation but I think it’s such an underrated episode… and I love “As I Have Always Been” the Agents of SHIELD episode it’s probably in my top 2 for the entire show. SYFY’s The Magicians is a show partially founded on time loops and I enjoy how it plays with / uses them a lot I even enjoy the Margo and Eliot time loop ep in s5 despite really disliking a lot of what’s going on in that last season. And Russian Doll s1 was great I really need to get around to watching s2…. for someone who blogs a lot about tv I am actually very bad at watching things sometimes :/. But there’s a lot of popular time loop media I haven’t seen and/or have no interest in.

#s speaks #pll #multi #(don’t want to tag everything else)#asks #snixx #mutuals #Ty for the ask sorry I’m getting to it late..#prev.bluesadansey

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