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bug-bites · 2 months

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batfam beach episode?? real not clickbait no glue no borax??

cw: nothing! pure vacation beach fluff (p≧w≦q) also barely proofread,,,

pairing: gn!reader x batfam (NOT ALL AT ONCE.)

characters: dick grayson, jason babygirl todd, cassandra cain, tim drake, damian wayne (all intended to be interpreted as either romantic or platonic unless its damian. ik in some comic runs he's like an adult but hes like permanently 12 in my head and i dont fw that :/)

a/n: im back with a new dc obsession tee hee (soz to everyone who wanted more abt the cod guys or spiderverse im comicsmaxxing and redhoodpilled) will probably make a part 2 w/ bruce, babs, steph, and duke eventually :3c

Dick Grayson haha dick

oh he loves the beach so much

the sand beneath his feet make him feel nostalgic from when he would practice tumbling with his parents in the circus ring i think there's sand in circus rings right? I dunno someone fact check me on that one

the victim of being buried in the sand, always asks for a mermaid tail but ends up with something like massive sand tits (courtesy of either tim or jason), he laughs it off anyways

somehow gets the worst tan lines. He wore a swim shirt one time and never again because the tan lines looked SO BAD which is a total shame because he tans gorgeously

will beg to do play shoulder wars i have no clue if this is the right name, again fact check me for this thing where you get a piggyback ride from someone and you try to knock someone whos also getting a piggyback ride over in the water

you’re on his shoulders since bro is strong asf and you square up against tim and damian

obviously you lose because hello that's damian wayne we are talking about but at least its fun!!

cass and jason are forever the undefeated champions of shoulder wars though, that goes without saying

Cassandra Cain

shes always seen beach episodes in animes that damian practically dragged her into watching so when she gets to actually go to a beach she is so excited peak sibling bonding is dragging your siblings into your interests

loves building sandcastles and writing things in the sand, watching it get washed away, and then do it all over again

hold her hand and jump over waves together on the shore and she will be the giggliest and happiest human being alive on planet earth

but out of all the beach activities she loves beach volleyball

shes actually scarily good at beach volleyball for someone who has never played volleyball before

dick thought it would be fun to teach her and have a friendly match between him and bruce vs you and cass

yeah bruce and dick were COOKED. huffing and puffing like they have a vendetta against the three little pigs at the end of it while cass is like “this is so fun, lets go again!”

ends the day with a little sunset stroll along the shore i need her so bad you do not understand please bbyg ill treat u soooo well

Jason Todd

beaches are fun on paper for him, in person not so much

PERSONAL HC INCOMING! He gets migraines after the lazarus pit so he can only have so much fun before needing to lie face down with his head covered with a beach towel to make everything less overwhelming or he wears sunglasses the entire time

he brings a book to read at the beach and stays in the shade the entire time yes he is that bitch

usually at home in the comfort of his little library he likes to read things that have an impact on him or just stuff that makes him want to analyze deeper. think books like frankenstein, lord of the flies, all quiet on the western front, just generally heavier stuff

but his vacation books? totally different. usually something super light, maybe a shitty romance book that you find in walmart which are clearly just results of book packaging, or a some booktok recommendation he got for shits and giggles because it just was so laughably bad, maybe even a childhood feel-good book like percy jackson or the little prince (mostly just books he would not grieve over if sand permanently got in between the pages)

he tried reading a colleen hoover book once and honest to God wanted to toss it into the ocean HE WOULD HATE HER BOOKS AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

but out of everything he likes watching you enjoy yourself, his book wasnt that important anyways. show him that funky sand dollar you found or that really cool piece of seaglass, he’s probably gonna bring it home with him. a little keepsake along with the millions of grains of sand that never seem to go away

Tim Drake

Burns so easily

At first its kinda cute, like hes asking you to help him get that spot on his back he just cant seem to reach and its just a little sweet moment between you two as you rub the sunscreen into his sore muscles

But then it happens again. And again. And again to the point when he goes up to you, you automatically reach for the tube of SPF 100+

I just know his vitamin d deficiency goes crazy

Leaves the beach looking like a lobster, sunburnt, a crazy bump on his head from getting hit with a volleyball, and some god awful sunglasses tan lines

Overall, beach activities are not really his thing bros job is NAWT beach

Enjoys the boardwalk a lot more than the beach itself, likes the touristy stuff but still goes to the beach because dick loves it and he loves his older brother :(

Damian Wayne

i feel like he wouldn’t care too much for typical beach stuff. like at every beach that has sand and decently clean water you can do most beach activities

one thing that is never 100% consistent at all beaches is what lives on the beaches. this boy will spend hours staring into tidepools

bruce was lowk concerned because his son did not gaf about normal beach activities that kids do but eventually he reached a point where he was like "i mean at least hes having fun and being safe"

i feel like talia would always show him books of sea creatures when he was little but he never ended up being able to see them in their natural habitat someone take this boy to an aquarium now

tells you fun facts about each creature you come across

will scold you if you take a shell from the beach, definitely says some shit like “how would you feel if someone ran into your house and just took your bed?” based though, leave shells at the beach yall! taking them is like bad for the ecosystem

brings his notebook around and has little sketches of the sea creatures

even though typical beach activities arent his favourite, he doesnt hate it. he likes that he can catch a break from all the vigilante stuff and spend time with his family as a family and not just as a team

loves scuba diving. idk it just somehow makes sense and i think he would look really stupid in a wet suit

also i feel like he would never mention it but in his mind hes fully thinking "this is just like a beach episode" but he would rather die than say it out loud FUCKING NERDDD

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torchstelechos · 1 year

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I do think its really important to remember that SY was suppose to be the villain character but its only because of his kindness and newly gained life that he didn’t end as one. In the very beginning of the story we learn that Peerless Cucumber Bro often left comments on how SJ didn’t get his dues and needed to be punished more, and only after he transmigrated did he acknowledge how awful of a death SJ had. He also made point to explain that he only read the book for LBH, which he noted to enjoy his decisive actions and deft ability to kill. Markedly, he liked his brutality and personality over the erotica that the majority of PIDW fans enjoyed. Peerless Cucumber Bro is someone who loves action and the ability to cut right to the chase, something that he does not do and most likely has difficulty with in his world.

Speaking of, it is something to note that Peerless Cucumber bro is rich. He had head chefs, he could pay for a 6k+ chapter book of erotica in 20 days, he noted that he could not understand SJs envy and ambition for power since he lives well, and he even noted to himself that his family was well off. He is incredibly wealthy, and it shows. Which is important to note because he, not once, showed any guilt or remorse on dying and leaving his family behind. Yes, he sometimes refers to people as being similar to his family but he never showed any pain for losing that life like he did when he lost LBH. This is important because I genuinely think SY was depressed and self destructive to himself, which goes against popular HC that he was chronically/terminally ill (I do like this HC and like how its portrayed in fanfiction). It would explain how he ended up dying all alone by himself, and how blase he was to his own life and death.

SQQ is a self destructive force who ended up dying three times, and didn’t feel anything about death itself. He was worried about others and the effect it had on them, but for himself it was up and on again like it never happened. He does not care for his health, had self isolated as SY to the point he died alone, and has a horrible self esteem to the point that he continuously agrees when other people put him down and often calls himself the villain. Even though we have seen the evidence of someone who is always being thrust into new situations and awful plots, he calls himself lazy and easy going. He hides his thoughts and feelings behind his fan and has a remarkably thin face. At the very base of his actions and his thoughts, he is self destructive, powerful, and smart. This is the set up for a villain.

However, when shown the actual people in front of him and forced to act as SJ did towards LBH and his disciples, he flinches from it. He notes that it happening in front of him was different. His entire self soothing comedy monologue went quiet when he had to enforce the Endless Abyss scene, and grieved for the childish innocence he killed from one of his favourite people. SY was set up to be the villain and obviously thinks of himself as one, but can not act as one. If he had the choice LBH would have been his sticky sweet white lotus disciple for as long as LBH wished to be.

His kindness, as seen in the book, is what turned him from being “the scumbag villain” to the protagonist we see in the novels. Which, yes, he is a protagonist! He even has the protag halo that LBH has and its very funny in the meta way for SQQ not to realize this, but thats for another post. But he loves his disciples, he loves his peak lord siblings, he loves his Binghe, he loves his new life, and he is kind. That is what kept him from being the villain he sees himself as, his kindness and love for others. Whether that be romantic, platonic, or familial, he loves the people he has met and he treats them kindly. That is why it is important to remember that he was set up as the villain by everything in the story we do not see, but what we do see is him continuously changing the story to fit a new genre that lets as many people as he can save live. Sorry sorry, I just think about SY being set up as a villain so much. It changes a lot of views I have on the series when I remember the duality of SYs story and character development.

#SVSSS #scumbag self saving system #Shen Yuan #shen jiu #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #Meta #I think?? Haha I dont usually do metas but I dont know how to write fanfic for this series #so Im just writing down my thoughts on the characters #Like how if we see this from the PIDW characters POV SY is truly a villain #Its just something that makes me laugh because he is a villain just as much as he isnt!#what a wonderful complex character to write for. This type of story.#I wonder if Peerless Cucumber Bro would forgive me for writing meta about him?? I think he would be kind of happy but utterly disgusted #ew fans that actually think im complex even though Im a really simple person with no hidden motives -SQQ probably #I love this fucking idiot so much I relate to him on a spirtual level and think he was probably depress to the point of having A Plan.#if you know what I mean #because I still think him reading PIDW entirely in 20 days marks a special occasion for something and if its not for the final chapter...#Anyway #I love this stupid sweet potato of a character #Oh! New tag!#Sweet Potato SQQ #for archiving puproses on meta for him #Probably not good meta I didnt even add quotes or page numbers Im just talking out my ass from what I remember #Watch me write an essay on this lmao

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totiredtowrite · 2 years

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Perhaps Bokuto x pretty boy! Reader????👀

Ok I’ll stop sorry.

-🖕🏽

pretty boy

warnings - kuroo a little obsessive ngl

im intrigued but would you mind if i changed it to my shawty kuroo i promise ill make it up to you

Don't steal my work, theft isn't cool

You weren't exactly sure when you started to feel his eyes on you, but at this point you didn't really care when it started.

Unbeknownst to you, however, you'd been in his sights from the moment you transferred to Nekoma just two months prior. With all the buzz about the shy, pretty new student, Kuroo just had to see for himself what it was all about. It's not like he was expecting to become so infatuated with you so quickly, but with eyes like that and a voice as soft and warm as yours, he was doomed from the start.

He knows you know he's watching. He can see it, he can feel it in the way you cast nervous glances around the room. And you know he's there, keeping eyes on you whenever you're with your friends. It's not like you felt as though you were in immediate danger, but you didn't feel completely safe either. Much to his displeasure, you always had someone else with you when you needed to return a book to the library or change in the locker rooms.

His friends scoff at him and tell him to just talk to you instead of watching you like a creep. He just laughs them off, saying he'll find the right time to talk to you. After all, if it wasn't perfect, then you might not give him the time of day. Kuroo wasn't stupid. He knew that he wasn't the only one who wanted you. What he was, however, was the only one who was perfect for you. You, being so sweet, so shy, needed someone like him. Someone who would willingly beat down any of your problems and then hold you close. Someone who could speak up for you when you were too scared to—someone who complimented you in every way.

"He's so sweet, isn't he?" Kuroo hummed against his palm. Kenma didn't quite know how to respond. Apparently he didn't have to, because Kuroo was clearly not engaging his friend in conversation. His golden eyes narrowed into slits as he caught sight of the girls giggling in the corner of the room, casting glances to where you were reading at your desk.

You lifted your head, turning sight to the group. Upon seeing their smiling, blushing faces, you turned your head in the other direction nervously. Locking eyes with Tetsurou. He held you in his gaze for what seemed like far too long before you turned your head back down, a worried and flustered expression finding its way onto your perfect features. He smiled into his hand, his previous jealousy evaporating almost instantly. You would never go for them anyway—you knew who was right for you.

Besides, Kuroo knew he had make his claim on you clear. Everyone could tell he wanted you, and he wanted you bad. They knew with the way he hovered around you, just out of sight. His warning glances directed at anyone who approached you was enough to dissuade anyone from thinking about asking you out—nobody wants to get into it with Kuroo. Everyone knew he was laid back, but they also knew he could hit hard, and no one wanted to find out if he was willing to go that far.

For you, he would go to any length. He wished that he could finally get you alone, corner you in the hallway without any of your pesky friends in the way. What were they there for anyway? Always hanging around you, never giving him a chance to find you. He was grateful that you felt comfortable around some people, but at the same time you should only feel comfortable around him.

Kuroo never considered himself the most possessive, but with you something was different. Something was very different. There were so many things that he wanted to do with you, that he wanted to do to you. He could make you feel all warm and safe, he could fill all the roles of friend and lover.

For now, though, watching you from afar was good enough from him. After all, doesn't have to worry about anyone taking you from him in the mean time.

Nobody would dare.

dont repost my work anywhere without my consent and don't steal it please; imitation is flattery, theft is not

#male reader #x male reader #haikyuu x male reader #anime x male reader #hq x male reader #kuroo x male reader #kuroo tetsurou x male reader

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arson-09 · 5 months

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Why AcoMaF is a subjectively BAD BOOK

Point 1: feels like a different series

Acomaf does NOT feel like a sequel to acotar. The main reason being your introduced to a whole new cast of characters without warning. Typically, in a series your introduced to your main characters in the first book and the cast that will come and go throughout the rest of the series (ex pjo, six of crows, the cruel prince) you get new characters introduced at some points but you already know all the really important people. in acomaf though we basically forego the og acotar cast (which was small) and given a HUGE cast of important characters. Along with a new, large plot that really didn't get footing in acotar. The only thing that carries over between the two books in Feyre. Tamlin and the spring court hardly count in my mind cause its so drastically different from how it was written in acotar

point 2: characters, their motivs, and their writing

I can go on for AGES about the character assassination of Tamlin. Sjm completely re-wrote his character. There was no actually foreshadowing for this behavior in acotar and i will talk on this more in a later point. But back to our main girl Feyre. Feyre wasn't horrific in this book (shockingly) however she frequently states things that aren't true. Example, she says that "He [Tamlin] hadn't tried to kill her [Amarantha], hadn't crawled for me." which is false. to quote acotar "I found Tamlins eyes- wide as he crawled towards Amarantha, watching me die, and unable to save me while his wound slowly healed, while she still gripped his power." I could also cite early passages where Tamlin is BEGGING Amarantha to stop hurting Feyre. We are told why in acotar Tamlin couldn't fix everything (giving reason to Feyre having to do the trials etc etc) however this is promptly forgotten in acomaf to villainize Tamlin and give Feyre some sort of motive. A completely unnecessary thing. SJM can't commit to what she wrote previously, having to retcon things instead of thinking up some other motivation or reasoning. Its frankly lazy and makes the story feel cheap. I made many highlights in acomaf where something is directly retconned.

point 3: SJM and writing anger issues and mentally ill characters.

This will mainly focus on Tamlin as his character and his issues are quite personal to me.

Tamlin is written to have anger issues. these are vaguely hinted at in acotar when, after Rhysand comes and threatens the shit out of everyone Tamlin orders everyone to leave the dining room and then takes his anger out on the furniture (that is what is hinted at anyway) and then in acomaf these outbursts of anger are amped up. And used to go "look! he's actually evil and a bad person!"

As someone who has anger issues, a short temper, whatever you want to call it, finds this really disheartening. It's clear to me that sjm doesn't actually put thought or care into writing characters with tempers. Its also extremely biased as Rhysand is written to have a short temper however this is never a problem, but it is with Nesta and Tamlin. Now this is not me excusing abuse, but a character having anger issues does not equal abusive and bad like the acotar fandom heavily does with Tamlin. In general Tamlin's character is so dissolved in acomaf its just sad. SJM didn't even try to write a convincing character descent. At some point in writing acotar she fell in love with Rhysand and decided she wanted to change the love interest. (she had done this before in throne of glass) and while that's fine choosing to use Tamlins anger issues and protectiveness to attempt to write an antagonist was a cheap cop out. She couldn't even commit to making him an actual villain. Shes just capitalizing off of mental issues.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #tamlin #rhysand #feyre #acomaf #a court of mist and fury #sjm #sjm critical

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the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see · 20 days

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what is this jean/Jeremy/Kevin thing it looks interesting and the art is cool

oh boy oh boy!!!!!!!! i am absolutely going through it anon. so basically there is this book series called all for the game by nora sakavic that you should totally read (the first book is called the foxhole court -- but please check out a list of trigger warnings for it because it is very heavy and deals with a lot of serious and painful topics. i myself have had to disconnect for some of the scenes and come back when i was ready; its completely okay to do so, or to not read the books at all if its uncomfortable). its about gay athletes, guys just going through the absolute worst, the yakuza, fucked up families, a running game of how pathetic can you get answered in 15 different ways by each person, fucked up relationships, all not-so-neatly packaged into a completely made up fictional sport. (its funny because i am NOT a sports person and barely even understand cricket even though i watch it all the time, but i know the rules of exy forwards, backwards, and inside out. its that serious.)

i also need to warn you that the first book is slow. the second book is also kind of slow. i personally didnt have any trouble with it because im more of a character reader and aftg had PLENTYYY to keep me busy, but i think its a fair warning if youre sensitive to pace. however. the payoff is so incredibly worth it. its an amazing read with obsession-worthy characters, detailed and balanced plot beats, flowing and natural dialogue, very creative sports , and the relationships will make you want to reread it twenty thousand times. the romance is also the slowest burn to ever burn. if youre going in for romance at the start, you Will Not Get what you want -- but you will get it. i think we as a fandom focus on the romances a lot (im new so dont take my word for it) but its 1) because we're tumblr dont come and 2) because the romances and relationships are incredibly interesting to see through the lens of the books and vice versa. what i really love most (and youll see this in the ec doc) is that it feels like each and every choice was deliberately made by the author to make the book. like. down to the ice cream flavor they get at one point. especially with the sunshine court, i feel like i can see exactly where she made a choice and what mightve happened if that choice wasnt made. its intoxicated to read. it feels like breathing and it feels like drowning.

i just read the sunshine court (where jean and jeremy are more from) so thats what all the recent stuff has been, but you should read the foxhole court series first for it to make sense. i think tsc is 100000x times better and better written than tfc but you have to work for it lol. and!!!!! the author is on tumblr (@/korakos)! also if you do read it, please tell me!!!!!! you can keep sending anons or you can dm me or you can come to my house and live in my room but tell me!!!!! theres also an extra content doc (thanks @jeansyvesmoreau for sending this to me) between the series' (so after the kings men, before the sunshine court) that you should definitely definitely read. but im getting ahead of myself.

i hope that helps?? or at least doesnt hurt. if you liked the raven cycle by maggie stiefvater, i think this is a good step up. let me know if you have any questions at all!!

okay ive been normal for this whole thing, ranting and incoherent noises below cut:

ANON ITS SOOOOOOOOOOOO GOOD ITS SO GOOD. ITS SO GOOD. i told mel this but i cant possibly say i love these books because its not necessarily love. its not something i can explain but youll get it if you read it. there is a piece of my soul that was carved out, reformed, and then put back into me by nora sakavic. i dont think ill ever be the same again. i need a therapist who has read these books so they can understand exactly what im going through. each character was like a bomb to me. jean moreau is like a straitjacket. they mean so much to me. theyre nothing. i hate them. i need to feed them breakfast. OUGHHHHHHHHORGHEURGHEOGH. there is so much grief entangled with them but they are so vibrant and full of life it hurts. i cant stop thinking about them. i finished tsc yesterday and ive been sobbing ever since. i am dead serious. i cried myself to sleep last night thinking about one of the characters. i need you to know how real i am being.

i think if i meet nora sakavic i will probably kill her. just fully black out and kill her and not even know it. so i wont meet her for the better! but i need this to be out there. my fingers hurt from typing all this but know that there is MORE in my head. so much more. i am fit to burst with it all. love you anon thanks for asking

#asks #the tree speaks #ily anon #aftg #all for the game #the sunshine court #nora sakavic

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jules-ln · 26 days

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Sorry Anon, the post was too long so I decided to make it its own post instead of an answer

Let me write my Bible because I have thought about this more than I should and I'm mentally ill

First the silence of the girls

I'm going be honest and say that while I don't like this book, I can recognize that is very well written and author makes it very interesting

But!

The girls were silenced indeed 😅

Like, if you're going to market your book as a "feminist" retelling of the Iliad I'll expect your level of feminism to be more advanced than what Homer was writing

Don't get me wrong, I know that women and children are often overlooked at wars specially in a historical context, but what Pat Barker was presenting as feminism was simply "Women suffer more than men in wars 😥" and that is the same thing that Homer was saying hundreds of years ago, more than that, I'd say that Homer did it better

And you know, it's supposed to be a feminist retelling, so I was expecting sorority to be a thing, specially because the only other source of comfort, respect and friendship a woman like Briseis could have had then would've been other enslaved women

But no, we don't really see sorority in the greek camps for more than a couple of paragraphs at best, and I got the feeling that some women characters were just genderbents of the male heroes, like Odysseus's enslaved woman is clever, Nestor's enslaved woman is maternal, florals for spring? groundbreaking

More than that, in the Iliad there is a character named Iphis that is Patroclus's enslaved woman and Briseis mentioned being close friends with her. So you expect that being a close friend of the protagonist she should have a lot of dialogue, specially in conversations with Briseis, don't you think?

Bish, I don't even remember her talking at all to begin with, much less to Briseis! 🤣

The only meaningful relationship Briseis has in the book are Achilles and Patroclus, her life orbits around these men and the other women don't matter

And that leads me to my other point

Briseis doesn't do ANYTHING.

Now, I know, I know, I know. Briseis doesn't do anything in the Iliad either, but that's some of the problems I have with Iliad adaptations.

Like, none of them will EVER be as good as the Iliad, to any writer that think that they can make an adaptation of the Iliad be as good as the Iliad. Sit down, you aren't that guy

So really, they should just do what MM did. Do your own thing that can stand on its own without hanging on the Iliad. Even if it's different, that's a good thing

Now, I say all of that because, it would've been Good if Briseis did something, ANYTHING at all other than stand there and look pretty

You might say "it's accurate to the Iliad" I say "A protagonist that doesn't do anything at all and doesn't influence the world around them in any way is boring"

There was even this part where Briseis wonders about how much control Patroclus has over Achilles, And I was here like "Yesssss, Briseis is going to emotionally manipulate Patroclus to control Achilles so she can be the one who is actually in control of both"

Nope, that, didn't happen, like, at all

Even at some point the narrative kicks Briseis out of the story to focus on Achilles and Patroclus, and like, feminism where? 😅

Once again that leads to my next point. Patroclus and Achilles part was more interesting.

Unironically, the best part of the book was the relationship that both had, it was the type of relationship that was like "I love you, but ngl I kinda hate you and want to kill you too unironically" And I think that's interesting! That's new, I've never read anything like that regarding those two before!

But that's a problem, because when I bought the book I wanted to read about women, I wanted to read about Briseis, not about Achilles and Patroclus, and that the author made them SOOOO much more interesting than Briseis, is just sad

Then there's the problem of the rapes scene, which, in this day and age if you're going to add a rape scene in anything, you better have some freaking good reason. And in this book, they're there for mere shock value, it doesn't give anything to the story, it doesn't change the tone of the book, a good editor would've take them out, but I guess it was part of the "feminist" message 🙄

But really, I don't hate the book, like I said, it's well written in my opinion, but it is a disappointing book because it could've been a great book with some tweaks here and there

Now about The song of Troy

ACHILLES YOU SON OF A BITCH FUCKING LIPLESS MUPPET I HATE YOU Y SI CIEN AÑOS VIVO CIEN AÑOS CHINGAS A TU MADREEEEE

Now that we got that out of the way

See, the thing is that I've read the song of Troy some time ago, and I mostly rage read it so I don't remember it very well

Like I hated it SO MUCH it it it Flames flames FLAMES on the side of my head (yes, it's a reference) so I'm just going to say the things I remember that made me mad

🔸️Helen is the prime example that writing women that don't suck ass ISN'T an innate skill in women, like she was one of the most misogynistic characters that I've ever read and if I was Menelaus in this book, I would be happy that she was gone, bon voyage biatch!

🔸️Both the book and Achilles treat Patroclus like Trash

🔸️The story treats Achilles like an uwu boy that can do no wrong when in reality in the book he's an idiotic asshole estúpido kbron hijo de la chingada pinche mamon bastardo agarras tu espadita la haces rollito y te la metes por el culo pendejo de mierda. Yeah, I don't like Achilles in this book

🔸️Odysseus is written to allegedly be very smart, sadly in actuality he's very dumb, because you see, the whole thing about the fight between Agamemnon and Achilles was an elaborate plot by him to get the Trojans to come out if I remember correctly, now, I think any good good tactician will tell you that an overly elaborate plan that will result in like half of your men dying with no guarantee of it being successful anyway, isn't so smart

🔸️Briseis was written so badly... I'm just going to put it this way, at some point in the book Achilles hits her, and that was the best fucking thing Achilles did in that book, like yess fucking muppet slap that bitch again. Oh but don't worry, Briseis in the book was ok with being slapped and not in a kinky way

🔸️Helen hits Andromache, and so did Hector. I'm going to leave it at that

🔸️I don't remember too well because at this point the fog of rage was too thick, but I think Achilles and Hector kinda fell in love when they were fighting? Which was very weird

So make yourself a favor and don't read it

If you want a good adaptation read these

🔹️War music by christopher logue, it isn't finished because sadly the author died, but best adaptation I've read so far

Here's a quote I like:

"When Nyro’s mother heard of this

She shaved her head; she tore her frock; she went outside

Ripping her fingernails through her cheeks:

Then down her neck; her chest; her breasts;

And bleeding to her waist ran round the shops,

Sobbing:

‘God, kill Troy.

Console me with its death.

Revenge is all I have.

My boy was kind. He had his life to live.

I will not have the chance to dance in Hector’s blood,

But let me hear some have before I die.’

‘I saw her running round.

I took the photograph.

It summed the situation up.

He was her son.

They put it out in colour. Right?

My picture went around the world.’"

🔹️La cólera by Javier Olivares and Santiago García, is a comic in Spanish, but if you can get your hands on one copy, do it, it's so good and the art is beautiful, one of the best portrayals of Achilles I've seen, Pyrrha also appears

🔹️An Iliad, by Denis O'Hare and Lisa Peterson, is a play, and tbh I don't like this one as much as I do the other two, but it is SOOO GOOD too.

🔹️En mitad de tanto fuego by Alberto Conejero, this one is a play; short and sweet and the narrator is Patroclus, very new too, and as far as I know it's only in Spanish, but if you can get it, do so, because it's very good.

Let me translate a part of it to the best of my abilities to tempt you a bit

"How short was life, how short... Now bury me as soon as possible so I can cross the gate of Hades. Bury me, Achilles. And if someone in the future finds my tomb and opens it, let them see how smoke comes out of my shroud still. Because of the desire, Achilles, because of the desire"

#ramblings #greek mythology #iliad #tagamemnon #trojan war #achilles #patroclus #patrochilles #book recommendations #feminism #the silence of the girls #book critique #briseis

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the---hermit · 6 months

Text

A lovely festive card from a friend and random notes.

19|12|2023

I am back after being very ill again. This time I got the flu, and to make things worse my panic disorder kicked me once again and it was bad. I am starting to feel a bit better now, but I am still very weak and my stomach isn't at its best yet. I spent a couple of hellish days, and decided to skip class this week. I confident I will be fully recovered for Friday when I'll have to speak in the seminar, but until that day I am not leaving my house and I am taking things slowly. This of course means that my nice study plan is totally fucked. I am so beyond schedul and I am not in shape to get caught with it, so I will simply have to sit down and make a whole other plan. I am starting to slowly getting back into doing some work during the day, but I have not enough mental energy to power through the book I have to study. So this week I will try to stay productive as much as I can but minding what my body allows me to do. I will study less hours during the day, do lighter stuff, and stop whenever I feel like I need to lie down, or move around depending on what my body is asking me. This morning for example I got about an hourish of work done, I was very happy with myself but then I simply had to accept that I needed to lie down, and I did so. I am fighting with the guilt of not sticking to plans and feeling overwhelmed with everything I have to do, and I am trying my best. The other thing I am struggling with at the moment is food, not in a concerning way, but more in the sense that right now I feel like I lost the joy of eating and having a good meal and that is impacting my mood so bad. First a couple of weeks ago I went to the dentist and struggled so much with pain in my mouth for a while, and now due to my stomach being affected by the flu, eating has just become something I have to do and I despise feeling like this. I want to sit at my table and be happy about what I am going to eat, I want to look forward to my meals and I have yet to figure out how to get back there. Maybe I just have a bit of a scare since in the past two or three years I often had my anxiety and panic symptoms strongly linked to my stomach and I am now scared that I'll get back into that stupid place in which eating was anxiety inducing for me. I just hope that will get better soon and that I will be able to enjoy the amazing food my family will make during the holidays.

calm hobbit winter activities and productivity:

read first thing in the morning (I managed to read ten pages which is such a big win after these awful days)

wrote notes for the second chapeter of Nature, Human Nature and Human Difference by Justin Smith

updated my reading journal

started watching cabinet of curiosities (in the past few years I have been terrible at watching new series, but this morning when I had to lie down after studying I felt like watching something new could be a good way to keep my brain a bit active. I watched the first two episodes and loved the first one. The second one fell very flat for me but I am exctied to see more of it, it definitely has the gothic horror vibes I adore)

started reviewing my men theories and power practices notes and added a few additional informations here and there

practiced my presentation for Friday

📖: Bookshops and Bonedust by Travis Baldree

#i know today's long post was a bit of negativity train and it's not the energy i love to put out in the world #but these have been a few bad days and i am not going to pretend they were fun #writing things down always helps a bit to declutter my mind and since I haven't been able to journal anymore this is my only daily journal #it works tho #anyway i am getting better now friday was the absolute worse and anything is better than that #plus the holidays are near and no matter how much i'll have to do I will take a week off #studyblr #studyinspo #journal #journaling #studying #productivity #calm hobbit winter #knife gang #mine #the---hermit #student life #uniblr #university

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estherdedlock · 2 years

Text

Of course, now I can’t stop thinking about where the remains of our Greek class would be today.

The trouble with this exercise is that we’re not sure how old they’d be, because we don’t really know when the events of The Secret History take place. Donna Tartt does a good job of giving us almost no chronological milestones to ground the book in a particular year. Richard is narrating from nine years after Bunny’s death: since TSH was published in 1992, that would put the story’s setting in 1983. But references to certain things in the book would suggest a later time. Richard goes to see a Vietnam War movie starring Charlie Sheen with the fictitious name of Fields of Shame: its real-life counterpart, Platoon, was released in December 1986. Later in the novel, we find mentions of compact discs and laptop computers, which would place the story in the late 1980s or even the early 1990s (part of me thinks that these were editor’s suggestions to make the book feel more up-to-date).

Since Donna Tartt attended Bennington from 1982 to 1986, she would have started her junior year in 1984. Richard transfers to Hampden at the start of his junior year, so I’m going to use that as my benchmark and say that the action of TSH takes place between the fall of 1984 and the spring of 1985. Francis is 21, so he would now be 58. Richard and the Macaulays would be 57.

Francis is the easy one, because Donna Tartt herself told us what became of him. In The Goldfinch, he makes a brief appearance as one of Hobie’s wealthy New York friends/clients. There’s no mention of “Mr. Abernathy” having a wife or children, so we can assume that Priscilla has been out of the picture for quite some time. Francis appears to have a reasonably good life, even if, as Theo Decker says, he seems to have “some ill-articulated scandal or disgrace in his past.” (Such a tease, that Donna Tartt!) This is what Francis was up to in 2013, at least---unless he got very sick or started a relationship with someone, there isn’t any reason to believe that he’d be doing anything different by now.

Richard, I think, predicted his own future when he was speculating about Henry’s: “I had always pictured Henry teaching Greek, in some forlorn but excellent college out in the Midwest.”

(I’ll briefly pause so we can all recover from the terrifying prospect of having Henry Winter as a college professor.)

Whew, okay. Moving on...

I can’t imagine that Richard would have stayed in California, not when he hated it so much. And yet, I can’t see him returning to New England, or anywhere in the Northeast: too many memories. The Midwest would be a perfect place for Richard to have landed...and for some inexplicable reason, I’m specifically thinking Wisconsin. Of course he’s a professor: his education hasn’t really trained him for anything except academia. But not Greek---English literature. He’s rumpled and tweedy and still rather boyishly good-looking. At least a quarter of his class has a crush on him. He may have been married at some point, but no longer. He doesn’t have any children.

I’m probably getting too Sebastian Flyte-ish with Charles, but I’m sorry to say that I think he’d be dead by now. I think he may have committed suicide, or just let himself decline so far into alcoholism and eventual drug addiction that it was basically a slow suicide. Or it may have been the sort of accident that plagues troubled people: a car wreck, a house fire, a bad fall down the stairs. But then again, you never know. If Charles somehow managed to pull himself back from the brink, I think he’d only have been able to do it with the help of some kind of religion---not because of his substance abuse issues, but because of his guilty conscience. I don’t see him getting deep into Christianity, though, maybe something like Buddhism. Perhaps he’s up in the Himalayas, with a shaved head and orange robes. And there we’ll leave him.

Camilla is a novelist. She would have needed to make money somehow, but I don’t see her doing blue-collar work or embarking on a corporate career (for which she would have had to go back to school, anyway). When we last saw her in TSH, she seemed to have committed herself to taking care of her grandmother and eking out a living on whatever was left of the family money (so Southern Gothic!). That would have given her ample time to write.

Funny thing is, I see her being financially successful but not the sort of writer who’s a darling of the critics or a household name (she doesn’t write under her own name at all). Maybe she’s had a career like Andrew Neiderman, who’s been writing as “V.C. Andrews” since the real Andrews died more than 30 years ago. Or maybe she reliably churns out cozy mysteries and romances, the kind that you buy at the drugstore, read at the beach, and then leave for someone else at the laundromat. This is by choice: Camilla doesn’t want to be famous. She wants to be comfortable, and left alone. She still owns the family home in Virginia, which she’s beautifully restored, although she doesn’t spend much time there. Mostly, she lives at the beach, where her well-appointed bungalow is peak Coastal Grandmother aesthetic.

She’s not a grandmother, though, or a mother, and has never been anyone’s wife. She is as solitary in her habits as she ever was...no, more so. She takes long walks on the beach, alone. She goes to mass every Sunday and holy day, but never receives Communion. She reads Greek in the evenings, listening to the waves roll in.

She has never stopped loving Henry.

#the secret history #donna tartt #dark academia #francis abernathy #richard papen #charles macaulay #camilla macaulay #henry winter

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theprettynosferatu · 1 year

Text

He had turned his apartment upside down and found no books at all, except of course for his trusty truck maintenance handbook, which he had already almost memorized. It made no sense, and yet quotes came to him unbidden, from authors he had never heard of, let alone read. Still, the man at the bookstore had been adamant. He had purchased Valley Flower. Suddenly, he had the simple idea of logging into his bank and looking at his card statements.

Sure enough, the evidence was there. Several payments, all to nearby small bookstores. Nothing too expensive. Somehow, he knew. The first one was a collection of Byron’s poems. The second one a history of ancient female rulers. The third was, of course, Valley Flower. He had no memory of reading any of them, and no idea where they were. Had he been blacking out more? Doing other things when he thought he was watching the game on sundays? How could he even be sure of anything anymore? Maybe Hayley was… editing his experience somehow. Making him see or not see things, messing with his memories, making him more and more confused…

He wanted to hate her. He really did. But he couldn’t. He knew what she would say, with her big green eyes pleading to him. “Sorry, I just really like to read”. He could almost hear her meek voice inside his head. How could he hate her? Besides, she had become his only true companion. Maybe it was just fair to let her have her little moments, her books. It wasn’t as if anyone would ever know.

As to where the books had gone… it was obvious.

“I donated them. I want others to enjoy books too, you know?”

How could he be mad at that?

He soon fell victim to a rather nasty flu. He spent day after day swimming in and out of consciousness, being himself for brief periods before sinking again and watching as Hayley’s thoughts occupied his consciousness in a swirl of fantasies, desires, ideas and frustrations to the point that separating what was He and what was Her was a pointless endeavor. He knew the reluctance to call a doctor was all he, though. Things would sort themselves out, as his dad used to say.

On the fifth day he felt well enough to roll off the bed and get a shower. He looked in the mirror through a feverish haze. He had barely eaten, so no wonder he had lost weight. Quite a bit of weight, in fact. His beer belly was practically gone, and… no, no way he had gotten shorter. That was fever talk. No illness could make a man shorter. Still… Whatever. He pushed the fear down and showered before stumbling back to bed.

Had he been more alert, he might have seen the single, long, red hair he had left in the shower.

There’s something special about that moment in which a sickness gives way, when one realizes that one is getting better, that energy is coming back, that the brain fog is lifting. He awoke feeling renewed, a brand new man indeed. He rubbed his eyes and soon noticed something alarming. His goatee was gone.

He rushed to the bathroom and stared at the face in the mirror. He could hardly recognize it: he had sported a beard as soon as he had been able to grow one. The face looking back at him was smooth, almost child-like in the softness of its skin. It almost seemed to glow, and a spot of panic burned inside his chest. Had he shaved in his feverish state? When? Using what? He had scissors to trim his goatee, but no proper shaver- and the job looked almost professional. Hell, it looked like he had never had facial hair at all. He studied the strange face in the mirror. It looked nice. Soft, even. It was his, no doubt about it, but it seemed… slightly shifted. The angles were a little bit different, the lines of his face just the tiniest bit altered to be… he settled for “prettier”. He needed to settle for “prettier”. He couldn’t bear to utter, even in his mind, the words that would more exactly describe the shape.

More feminine.

Also, there was no denying it: he was getting shorter. Slimmer. Even his fingers looked more dainty, and his nails had grown in a most alarming way. As far as he knew, nails didn’t grow beautifully shaped as if a manicurist fairy had worked on them throughout the night. This was, he decided, a nightmare. It wasn’t real. Couldn’t be real. Like a child, he rushed back to bed and covered himself with his blanket. Things would go back to normal by themselves, he knew that. He was just having a little bit of a psychotic break. He didn’t want to imagine himself disappearing, becoming…

And he hated that part of his mind was thinking of the clothes he should buy.

He had to go back to normal, regular, predictable life. That was the ticket. He had been too much in his head, looking into the mirror too often. There was a world out there, a solid, real world. A world that made sense- and not a minor concern, a world that paid him for his labor. He was sure there would be someone looking for a simple delivery, something to ease his way back to the comfort of the familiar. And sure enough, there was a simple run requested waiting for him in the system. He almost slammed his finger into the “accept request” button on his phone. It might as well had been labeled “return to reality.”

Emily felt strange. Too big. Her driving wheel intimidating, unwieldy. He looked around, shifted in his seat. It didn’t make sense. He had been inside Emily countless times, had traveled the country with her. She had been almost an extension of himself. That was why he had given her a name, after all. When a trucker moves on from a loaner or a company vehicle, when he finds the right truck to call his own, they named it. And, he noticed after observing his friends, the name had to be a girl’s name. Big Bertha. Dolly. Gladys. All his friends had their truck-wives, so he felt he had to name his own. He wasn’t sure why trucks were girls, or why truckers treated them like close, cherished companions. Sure, he did maintenance and took care of his truck. He knew it inside out. He just didn’t feel that kind of… close attachment to it. But men named trucks, and so, his was Emily. But Emily felt like an unwelcoming behemoth of metal.

He took to the road as he had done so many times before. Normally he would zone out, let his muscle memory take care of the driving, listen to his sport radio and bask in that space between spaces, that special no-land that was the wide, open road. Instead, his body tensed up. His mind was racing, paying close attention to every sign, every other vehicle, every turn. He hated every moment of it, hated the way the patter on the radio only seemed to assault his brain with shrill laughter and screaming and a soundboard of air horns and silly noises. Without even thinking it, he pushed a button and the radio hissed and blabbered before finding another station. Music. That was better.

He had to admit the music calmed him somewhat. He still wasn’t enjoying the drive, not one bit, but by moments he could almost be carried away by the melodies. Maybe he could pull it off. Maybe he was returning to being something like himself again.

Oh oh you think you’re something special

Oh oh you think you’re something else

Ok. So you have a car!

That don’t impress me much…

Suddenly he caught himself. How long had he been singing along? Why were his hips moving in his seat? How did he know all the words? Why did Shania’s voice sound so… right coming from his mouth? What the fuck was going on? And did he almost crash a few miles back? He felt sweat dripping down his face. He checked in the mirror…

It was only a flash, shorter than a second. That was enough to make him pull over and jump out of Emily. He panted, his hand resting on the door, his gaze to the hot asphalt. No way. No way. He hadn’t seen… that. He shut his eyes, tried to push the image away. It was no use. What he had seen was engraved behind his eyelids.

He had become a strange sight indeed: a petite man, oversized clothes hanging off his slender limbs, propped against a massive truck in the middle of nowhere, baking under the blazing sun. He knew he needed to get a move on, but…

Deep green eyes accentuated by perfectly applied eyeliner. The vaguest hint of tasteful, understated eyeshadow. Playful freckles on his nose and cheeks. A wisp of red hair falling between plucked eyebrows.

It was impossible, yet that was what the mirror had shown him. He shuddered as he remembered a dream, a conversation in a coffee shop. Hayley. He had seen Hayley.

He could dispel the fear in an instant, of course. All he needed to do was look in the mirror. And still, he didn’t. His breath came in ragged, short bursts. It wasn’t just that what he had seen was bizarre, beyond all logic or reality. It was that if he were to be honest with himself, even for a second, he would have to admit that for the first time in his life, he had felt beautiful.

How long did he stay there? Impossible to tell. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. Eventually, spurred less by bravery and more by the starting aches of a sunburn. He trembled as he glanced in the rear view mirror.

He was himself. Sort of. It was hard, with the recent changes, to be sure of what “himself” meant. He should have felt relief, and he did- but there was also a hint of something else, a longing he could not name. But there was something else. Maybe the sun had burned him more than he realized… however, the marks didn’t look like burns or irritated skin. He leaned closer to the mirror.

Were those freckles on his nose?

He’d never thought a lot about clothes. Well, that wasn’t entirely true- he had never allowed himself to think about clothes. Fact was he had thought about clothing a lot exactly once, when he had pondered long and hard what his “style” would be. He didn’t think about it as style, obviously: the proper style for a man, he had decided, was to have no style, which in itself was a rather complex style, since any evidence of even acknowledging the concept of style was suspect. Ideally a man’s clothing should embody the very concept of “default”, should be banal to the point of invisibility, should silently scream the word “normal.”

“Normal” was hard to achieve, but he had done so and buried the entire sartorial world deep underground. From that point on, buying clothes had been a functional, gray, dull affair: one punctuated sometimes by the lingering fear that a certain color or pattern was too… out there. Luckily, there were many stores that stocked their shelves with sturdy, practical, utterly boring shirts, pants, shoes. He had built himself a reasonable wardrobe, one that kept any thought on what to wear to a minimum.

A wardrobe that was of no use to him anymore.

Shirts hung off his back like he was a scarecrow, or a child dressed like a very boring, very practical ghost. His belly was gone, but so were his broad shoulders, his muscular arms (and the hair on them as well), his large back. The only word that came to his mind looking at himself in the mirror now was “petite”. It was a nice word. It was a pretty word. It was an utterly terrifying word. His body was changing and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He felt as if he was a spirit trapped in a black wind, carried away to God knew where. Sure, he could go to a doctor, but what would he say?

“No, Doc, I used to be a big burly man, balding with a beer gut! I drove a truck! And now I’m becoming… I don’t know what! I swear I wasn’t this short, or a redhead, or freckled, or… and I didn’t have boobs! You have to believe me!”

Yeah, that was a no-go. Which led him to the thing he had been trying so, so hard to avoid.

He was growing breasts.

There was no other way to call them, and Lord knew he had looked frantically for any other term, any plausible explanation. Remembering his blackouts, the novels he… or Hayley had read, he had looked up the effects of estrogen on the body. If she could make him buy books when he wasn’t looking, who could say what kind of stuff she was making him take? It would be a terrifying idea, but it would be, at the very least, an answer. As far as he knew, grown men did not spontaneously manifest tits, after all. Sadly, even the most superficial research was enough to inform him of the fact that no, estrogen did not work that fast, or change hair color.

The person in the mirror resembled him less and less by the day. He kept turning around, spinning, taking in every angle. He needed to stop it, and he needed to stop it right then and there. But how? Tears pooled in his eyes, and his fists clenched in complete, impotent rage. Rage was good. Rage was manly.

Before he knew it, he was on the ground, surrounded by reflective glass shards, his hand bleeding. He hadn’t meant to punch it. To punch himself. To punch her.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m not”, she said, an echo in his head.

“Then what is happening?”

“I… I’m not sure. I think I’m starting to become… myself. Just… by moments. They add up, I suppose”

“Well fucking stop it!”

“I tried! I did, at first. But… don’t I deserve some happiness too? Don’t I deserve to exist beyond the cage in which you’ve locked me? The world has so much to offer, so many wonderful things, art, books, music! I can’t just look at it from behind your eyes”

“No. No, no, no. Fuck you. My body isn’t a fucking time share and you sure as shit are not allowed to redecorate it, so take your red hair, and your boobs, and fuck right off! I was fine before you came along!”

“Were you happy?”

“That’s not the point!”

“It seems to me like it should be the entire point. Happiness. How long do you expect to keep living a lie?”

“I’m not… I was fine!”

“Well, change is inevitable. I’m not going anywhere, so you can suffer every day or you can at least try to have fun. Speaking for myself, I’d much prefer it if you didn’t suffer. For instance, you’re going to have to buy new clothes. Why not enjoy it?”

“Fuck. You”

Hayley didn’t respond. He hated to admit she was right, tough. He did need new clothes.

The battlefield stretched before him, infinite. He saw safe areas, sensible shirts and gray pants. He also saw the minefield he would have to cross: rack after rack of yellows, reds, greens and pinks; tops and blouses and skirts, menacing like fanatical enemy soldiers, sharp like spike traps trying to break him, to send him into a pit from which there would be no escape. He took a moment to get his body ready, to make sure his oversized t-shirt properly hid his breasts. He wore a ballcap to somewhat obscure a face that, it pained him to admit, could just very well belong to a woman. The point was to avoid the dreaded Shopping Assistant.

That particular fear had come from a long, unflinching, objective look at the bathroom mirror, given that he had smashed one in the bedroom. He did his best to push away how he had once looked, the residual image of himself he had been holding onto like a piece of driftwood in a stormy ocean. What would other people see when they looked at him? The answer was obvious. Devoid of his masculine clothing, he looked like a slight, petite, slightly androgynous woman. He hoped that a new outfit, a manly outfit that actually, well, fit him, would push him at least to the level of a slight, petite, slightly androgynous man. He just hoped no one at the store would peg him as a woman and drag him to the women’s section. He was terrified of what might happen then.

He took a deep breath and went inside, heading straight for the safe, masculine blues and blacks.

It took him a moment to understand where he was. The white light overhead hurt his eyes. The miniscule cubicle made him feel trapped. His heart was racing, and he could feel something in his chest, some residual adrenaline… no, not fear. Something else. Something like joy. It was overwhelming, so much so that a full minute passed before he realized he was naked, staring at himself inside a changing room, a pile of colorful clothes arranged by his side.

Hayley, you absolute bitch. Of all the times to give him a blackout…

He looked around. His t-shirt and pants were gone. Hayley had thrown them out the changing room while he was away. Fuck. Check and fucking mate. What could he do? Call for assistance? They would think him crazy- or more accurately, they would think her crazy. Who knew what Hayley had told the workers at the store? And walking out in the nude was, obviously, not a choice. Fine. He would wear whatever the hell Hayley had set out for him, just to fetch his own clothes and get the fuck out. He picked up a top.

Huh.

He couldn’t be sure, but at a glance it didn’t look as bad as he had feared. It wasn’t some pornographic, stare-at-my-boobs top. If anything, it was modest, the emerald green would compliment his eyes, and what cleavage the top did have was tasteful, playful, flirty but not trashy. Of course, there was only so much he could eyeball holding the top. There was only one way to be sure of how it would look…

Wait. What the fuck was he thinking? Tasteful greens? Playful clothes? Those weren’t his thoughts. They couldn’t be. They shouldn’t be. He would just… wear the damn thing, then find his own clothes. Quickly.

God fucking damnit. Hayley might be some sort of… weird mind… stealing thing, but she did have a good eye. Before he knew it, he was turning, checking the top from different angles. It fit his new body perfectly, drawing tasteful curves on his skin, suggesting a trove of beauty while concealing it. A smile escaped his lips. Coy, yet flirty. Cute, yet slightly provocative. The kind of smile that was a promise and a dare, a diamond half-seen through the glint of morning mists. A smile he had never smiled before. When had he last smiled? Truthfully, spontaneously, not the result of a calculation or social norm? He couldn’t remember. Had he ever smiled like that? Just… naturally?

It just felt… right.

Suddenly, he snapped back. What was he doing? He was being ridiculous. He was being a fool. He was being a freak. Then again, no one was watching. Yes, it was a ridiculous image to be sure. He was wearing a top and nothing else. What was he, Donald Duck? He put on a pair of pants in a hurry, grasping for some notion of normalcy.

Well, that was new. He turned and stared at the mirror in primal fascination, like an ape seeing fire for the first time. He had a butt.

He had always possessed a behind, of course. It just had never been a factor in any aspect of his life, much less on his appearance. Men did not care about their asses. Or at least he didn’t think they did. His friends never mentioned their asses except in the context of working those butts off behind the wheels of their trucks. Did they secretly care about how their asses looked? He now did, that was for sure.

He did a little twirl. It was a thing of beauty, of absolute joy. Cute, not too big but certainly appealing, highlighted by the perfect fit of the shiny, black pants. A part of him was aware that if he came across a woman with that pretty butt he would stare. Would others stare at him? He wasn’t sure how to feel about the idea. He suspected a part of him liked it. He ran his hands over it. It felt so sensitive, so smooth, so firm… and yet it seemed to give him a balance, a sense of truly being on the ground he had never known he had lacked. But how could one miss what one had never known existed?

He felt light. Bubbly. As if he could skip, hop, dance. Instead, he did a little wiggle, and a cute laugh sneaked out of his chest. He didn’t mind. Instead he felt slightly miffed as he looked around the changing room. Where were the shoes? Surely Hayley would have picked out shoes to go with the outfit! Maybe they were outside? He felt almost outraged. Who didn’t choose cute shoes when putting together a wardrobe?

Without a thought getting in the way, he left the changing room. There, on the floor, he saw a dull, brutal heap of cloth. It took him a moment to recognize them as the clothes he had been wearing not long ago. They looked heavy, as if they were made of lead. The thought of putting them on sent a shiver up his spine. A picture of iron chains flashed in his mind. He started sweating. He knew he should put those terrible clothes on. That was the plan, after all. Instead, he stared, paralyzed, shaking.

“Oh. My. God. You look so good! Honey, you were made for those clothes!”

He turned around. The clerk was there, her eyes beaming. Sure, it was her job, but… it felt so sincere. It felt like the blonde woman was genuinely amazed and happy for him, like she was a sister in a world he had never imagined. There was so much emotion in her eyes… and all for a stranger. His friends didn’t show emotion like that. Even their support was usually more… ironic, or clad in jokes or teaseful ribbing. This was different. Unvarnished. Unashamed.

“Girl, I have to say… when you came in, wearing… those things I thought you were a lost cause but damn! You are positively radiant!”

Girl. She had called him a girl. Should he correct her? Could he? Could he really, with a straight face, utter the words “I am a man” after all he had felt? Also… he did feel radiant. He felt as if he was hovering above the ground, surrounded by a halo of bright, white light. He searched for words, any words, anything at all.

“Shoes”, he blurted out.

“Shoes indeed! Let me show you”

The pile of discarded clothes said nothing as it was left behind.

VII

Horns shook the city air. Angry, shouting voices lodged themselves in her stomach. The shift stick felt stiff, unwieldy. She preferred to stick to the pedals, which the drivers behind her didn’t particularly appreciate. The wheel felt like an enormous monster she was forced to fight at every turn. The truck was a lumbering leviathan, and with every block she realized more and more of the simple, undeniable fact that she hated the damn thing.

At some point she found herself parked on the side of a quiet road. She looked at the trees beside her, the birds above her, the scattered clouds lazily floating along. She looked at the mechanical monstrosity that appeared to her eyes as a sort of disgusting predator. Large, cumbersome, threatening. She sat on the grass by the road. What was she doing driving that thing anyway?

Looking at the sun, it seemed to her as if she had been living inside a trench, toiling, fighting a war with no meaning or purpose. Sure, the truck was her job. Or his job. The distinction grew less clear by the minute. What was evident was that she simply couldn’t keep going. She couldn’t spend her hours inside that awful metal prison anymore. But where to go next? What did she truly want to do? Who was she, really?

Her phone vibrated. She glanced at it, recognized it was someone from work and let it shake impotently in her hand. She supposed the name on the screen belonged to a friend, in a way. He just didn’t feel like a friend. Not anymore. Before, friends and coworkers had been the same thing. Now she saw inside herself, realized how lonely she truly was. She wanted more.

She dreamed of smart conversation, of books, of delving deeper into the world of Literature. She dreamed of cozy coffee shops. She dreamed of laughter, of sharing. But how could she turn those fantasies into more than mere dreams?

The answer was staring right at her.

She could feel the wind picking up. It was something electric, exciting. She knew she had been scared of change, not that long ago. Now her life was growing, flowering, transforming. Her body was never exactly the same by morning as it had been at bedtime, and waking up was an exciting thrill. Why then had she insisted on keeping the rest of her static, trapped in amber? The truck, the apartment, his friends had been essential in the past, but now they simply didn’t fit her.

Well, what would fit?

She was looking into the mirror, trying out a new makeup look she had seen on Youtube. A thing that was becoming more and more apparent with each passing day was the cost. Makeup was expensive, that much she had realized immediately, especially since she had resorted to trying out various shades, brands, styles. But that was only part of the cost: the rest was time. She had a foggy memory of waking up, throwing on some clothes and stepping out into the world; such a notion seemed absolutely ridiculous to her now. After a few missed appointments (one to get her nails done, one to buy a particularly rare book from a private seller) she had learned to clear out at least a solid hour to get ready before heading out. She really hoped practice would make things quicker. Besides, once she had learned her… style, she supposed, things would go far more smoothly.

There was a joy, a playfulness to the whole affair. Her face was a canvass in which color, shades, highlights danced and underlined this or that feature, made her cheekbones more pronounced, or her lips look thicker, or her eyes pop. She felt a bit like a newborn fawn, learning what other girls had mastered by age fifteen, but she took to her new hobby with the excitement of a teenager. In a way, she felt like one, like she was going through a second puberty. The right puberty, this time. Back in the day, she… or he, had been afraid of the changes, afraid of what they meant about her place in the world. She vaguely remembered feeling as if she was not ready, silently begging for more time to figure the world out. Those memories seemed more and more distant every day, like a half-forgotten movie. Well, she didn’t have time to reminisce. She could not miss the day’s appointment.

She had done her homework. She knew what she had and what it was worth. Still, she was a bit shocked by the tone of the man, the way he talked down to her. She understood: a willowy redhead girl who had “inherited” a truck would look to a sleazy auto seller like a prime mark. She was many things, but gullible was not one of them. Politely, always wearing a disarming smile, she refused to budge an inch. In the end she got the proper value for the vehicle. Enough to purchase a small, compact, rather cute electric car. One that felt like her. And enough to kickstart the next step in her project.

The ads went online later that day. So many people had trouble interpreting books, analyzing them… while she could do so quickly, effortlessly, with sensitivity and academic rigor. It made her happy, and she wanted to share that happiness, to teach others to see the wonderful world of words the way she did. Besides, she needed a job. Tutoring sounded just perfect.

Of course, her plan included a couple more steps. Steps that required certain paperwork. She had been lucky in that the gods of bureaucracy had chosen to answer her requests speedily, and had scheduled the big day for less than a week since she had requested it. She smiled, pondering if ever paperwork had felt so good for anyone else.

Two days later, she walked out of the big, gray building. She was beaming, holding the small piece of plastic. The picture on it was terrible, as such pictures inevitably were. She didn’t care. She looked at it again and again, and every time a surge of energy burst from her chest and made her laugh in sheer joy. Terrible, overexposed, harshly lit photo or not, it was a photo of her. There could be no doubt about it. Surrounded by all the official seals and symbols, made official by the hologram that guarded against forgery, validated by all the boring, subtle aspects of properly-acquired government I.D. Her. And the ink, black, impossible to erase, proclaiming that she had always known to be true.

“Hayley”, it said in the space allotted for the citizen’s name.

VIII

The huge man looked at the I.D., then at Hayley, then back at the I.D. She couldn’t help but smile. She had never been carded before. She understood the man’s confusion, given the date of birth on the card and the way she looked. Of all the changes, her apparent youth had been the most surprising one. Sure, her skin had become smoother, softer, more sensitive. Her once imposing frame had become petite, slender. She had grown breasts, a source of endless fascination for herself and others, just the right size to fit her body without looking artificial. She had a shapely butt and a vagina. That last one she couldn’t remember getting, couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it had happened. It just felt… like it had always been there, even if she knew that wasn’t the case. Just like the way she spoke, her thoughts, her dreams. They had slowly made themselves apparent, washing away what had been a false self in a slowly rising tide. Where the past ended and she had truly begun, she couldn’t say. She didn’t much care either. She was in the world now, and she intended to make up for lost time. On this particular night, by celebrating her first batch of students.

She knew clubs weren’t her thing, but… better to make sure. Besides, what was life if not there to be experienced fully?

One minute inside and she knew she was in the wrong place. Or at least not a place that felt… hers. But she did have to admit one thing: she looked amazing. She was proud of that. It had taken a lot of work! Choosing clothes, seeing how they fit, trying out different styles, practicing with endless tutorials to get her hair and makeup just right… in a way the looks of the people around her were invasive, yes, but also… validating. After years of feeling invisible behind the wheel of a truck, she felt seen, physical, real. Sure, she didn’t intend to make clubbing part of her life, but for one night… The books and coffee could wait. Even the new friends she had made at her advanced Literature courses could wait. For one night, she would just… let go.

Hayley closed her eyes and let the music vibrate inside her. She let her body feel light, her hands go in the air, her feet do as they pleased… She let herself fly.

Many saw her that night. They couldn’t know the effort, the pain, the silent suffering that had come before that moment. The dull, heavy years behind her were invisible and growing less and less substantial, leaving not a hint for anyone to observe. They didn’t see the full picture, and yet what they did see was, in the end, what truly mattered.

They saw a woman dancing with her eyes closed and a smile on her face. They saw a beautiful girl letting loose, not caring about the weight of the world, twirling and enjoying herself under the shifting, colored lights. They saw someone utterly comfortable with herself, with her place, her body, her life. They saw sensuality and joy, euphoria and childish abandon. The Universe clicking into place.

They saw, quite simply, happiness.

#writing #fiction #short story #fantasy #writers on tumblr

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thehumanversionofthishellsite · 1 year

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may or may not have stayed up all night reading this book as soon as I could get my hands on it but anyway I have some thoughts and most of them are screaming.

I really loved the book. Did it have flaws? Yes. Do I care? No. I'm 22, the targeted age range is something like 10-16. When I first got into this series I was the same age as nico. It's been a long journey getting older and changing and healing. Seeing that for Nico was all I really wanted from this book.

Also, realistic relationship struggles and growth!! Loved that!! Having a chronic illness is hard, your partner watching you suffer with it is also hard for them!! Having conversations and misunderstandings and awkward moments is how it goes!! After being in a 3 year relationship with someone I love very much I'm like,,, yes!! Thank you!! I have lifelong chronic illness!! It's not going away I gotta learn to live with it it's a part of me!! My partner struggles with it but is trying so hard and I love them so much!!! But I'm so much more than a pile of suffering and that's the point!!! You choose to keep trying and that's the point the book makes!! there's a whole scene about it and it's so important!!! Will starts to be more accepting and understanding and we love to see it! Nico accepts he needs to let himself move on and that it's ok to do that and not be angry with your past self for trying to stay alive!!

I make no sense and I don't care. But also, they're cringey and memey and dumb. They're hysterical and going a little bit crazy and they love each other and like, I'm not ok. Neither are they. Its been an extremely stressful week for them.

And I don't think it's super out of character because we barely know these people!! Nico has been suffering and in survival mode almost the whole time we have known him!! Will has been a background character most of the time!! Nico was a bubbly 10 year old and Will was like 4 sentences. Nico has made occasional/awkward/dark jokes and Will was shown to be stubborn and concerned and caring because demigods are ridiculously hard to keep alive. Let them be weird and cringey they're literal teenagers. Have you been in a high school with people obnoxiously dating. They are. The worst.

Broke: camp is empty because people wanna see their families

Woke: camp is empty because will and nico are just that couple who are cringe 100% of the time and everyone just noped out

I know I keep getting sidetracked but. Point is. nico and will seem out of character because of circumstances and time skips probably. Nicos finally in a stable place and can actually process things, mans is curious about the world he's in no wonder he's a memelord the internet just does that to you. People change when they're not in survival mode, I definitely am not the same person I was when I was 16. Not even the same person I was when I was 18. Or 20. Like, mental health glow ups bring out some of the best parts of you.

AND THANK YOU PIPER I FEEL SO SEEN RN, don't know what label I fit under, I am confusion but it's ok!! I am a big ole ace spectrum mess and maybe tomorrow it'll be different! Either way the book had a lot of great moments and no it's not the same as old rr books but it was never gonna be, the nostalgia associated with the original pjo series means nothing will ever live up to those books and that's kind of just life for some of yall. fuck knows I crave the joy I felt playing crash bandicoot for the first time. I miss that time of my life and it's ok to miss that but it's also ok to move forward and find new things that bring life joy and meaning!!

anyway. I enjoyed the sun and the star and I will continue to enjoy it regardless of what other people think, I can like things just because I do, or just because they make me happy. And this book definitely made me happy. Also holy fuck I need some sleep. Sorry about all the exclamation points it's all that's keeping me awake!!

#tsats spoilers #the sun and the star spoilers #solangelo spoilers #nico and will #damn #im tired #solangelo

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agentkeegan · 7 months

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"Haven't you heard? Witches don't burn."

Character: Gaz. Maybe angst?? Mainly romance tho! Warnings: Reader gets caught in a fire, Again maybe angst? , Somewhat suggestive flirting.

A/N: This was made at 5AM... I got the idea and had to write it despite being sick. I swear ill make part two of exile, once I feel better!

--- <3

There were always rumors on base you were some sort of witch. The harsh wounds that would take months to heal, took days. The paperwork that would take hours? Minutes. You had crystals in your room as well, but you always told them you were just huge on crystals. Just like other people your age.

Scaring the new recruits was funny as hell. When ever you got your work done earlier than everyone else. You went out of your way to scare them. Acting like you were chanting something out of a book to just pulling out a stick and saying a Harry Potter line. Always had them running.

Today was just another one of those days, you went out of your way to buy a crystal ball on your time off. Setting it up and sitting right by it. The recruits would be heading in from practice in about a minute. All worn out and tired. Hungry and drained. You turned on the crystal ball and it glowed purple. 5....4....3....2..

1.....The doors to the hallway banged open. And the chattering flooded your ears. The groans and the hungry rumbles set there fate in stone as they rounded the corner. The closet you sat in had the door peeked open. Enough for the purple light to shine through. The hallway went quiet. The whispers becoming noise to fill the hallway. "You open it!" A boy whispered to the girl next to him. "No! What if its that witch everyone has been talking about!" She whispered back. Hitting his shoulder.

"Dear God you two, I'll do it. I swear, all of you are being a wuss." Somebody spoke. Loud enough so everybody could hear it. Everyone began to back away from the door, as the person began to walk towards it. They reached their hand onto the door handle and slowly opened it. When the door opened, you began to chant. Loud. Circling your hands on the crystal ball infront of you.

"WITCH!!" They screamed. All of them running off in different directions. Like sprayed roaches. You tried to hold in your laugh but couldn't. You laughed to the point you were crying and holding your stomach on the floor. It was fucking hilarious. Someone joined your laugh, and you looked up to see who it was.

Gaz.

Whipping your tears and finishing you laugh, he spoke. "Scaring the new recruits again love?" He chuckled making his way to the closet to help you up. "Yeah.." you giggled. "Never gets old. They seriously think I'm a fucking witch!" You scoffed, acting offended. "Yeah, well...." He helped you up, bringing you into a hug. "..Your my little witch. Put a spell on my heart?" He cooed. Placing a kiss on your forehead before resting his head on your shoulder. "Cheesy." You rolled your eyes. Running your hands around his back. Bringing one up to his hair. "But pretty fucking adorable. Maybe your a succubus then? Tricking me with your looks?" Grinning, He grabbed your hand and brought it up to his mouth. Planting a kiss on it. "And you know what succubus's do right?" He winked. Teasing you.

"Oh don't get me started." You rolled your eyes, laughing. Snatching your hand away and walking off. "Hey!" He chased after you, taking your hand again as you both bicker and talk about your day. You were his witch who put a spell over his heart. And he was a succubus who used his charm to make you his.

Then why did it come to this?

The fire got bigger as the building welcomed it. The smoke became more unbearable and it got harder to see. Harder to breathe. Your name rang throughout the coms. Gaz and the rest of your team yelled for you, trying to know if you were still alive. Still worth saving to get to exfill. You coughed. Reaching for your coms, trying to press the button. Only for it to be broken.

---<3

Gaz looked into the fire. Struggling to get out of prices grasp and to come get you. Tears trickled down his face. Pure anger and sadness was all he felt. "LET ME FUCKING GO" He snapped at price. Trying to free his wrist from his hold. "Gaz, we are all fucking upset. But we have to fucking go or we are all dead!" He growled at gaz. His hold becoming stronger the more he struggled.

---<3

You limped through the fire, the pain in your ankle becoming harder to withstand. A metal rod was on the ground when you tripped trying to get out. You were able to heal it to some degree, but not fully. How? None of anybody concern. The metal rod still stuck out of your skin, it clearly visible. You grabbed ahold of a wall. Leaning against it as stability, you once again began to shift to some sort of exit. The flames or the jump was the least of your worries. It was the fall and the building slowly collapsing.

Your breath grew heavy, as the smoke filled your lungs. Walking into another ring of fire, allowing the flames to dance over your skin. Only to make it to the other side and for the fire to leave your skin with it. The doors felt infinite. Like every door you opened there was another door to open. Another hall way to walk down and another fire to walk through.

How long have you been in there? How long ago did they leave you? How long ago, did he leave you. 15 minutes? Or an hour? Seconds felt like hours. So you truly had no idea if its only been 5 minutes. But there is always a light at the end of a tunnel. Or, darkness, in this case. Beyond the fire ahead you can see the opened door that lead to the outside. The door, to the night sky.

You walked into the fire. The flames trailing up your legs, wrapping around every curve of your body. Trying to take you for itself. Only for it to fail and for it to only tickle your skin. Causing no harm to your body or clothes. As soon as you walked out, the crumpled to the ground. Only to hear the call of your name, and footsteps running towards you.

---<3

It was just constant argument between price and gaz. "We can't leave her." "Shes clearly fucking dead, and she wouldn't want us dead. We have to go". The restraint could leave marks on his wrists, and the yelling could leave his mouth dry. The tears that stained his checks stopped as the tears were no longer available.

"MATE.. IS THAT FUCKING..."

Soap yelled pointing towards the front door. A shadow figure on the other side of the flames, an outline of you. The argument went quiet as gaz snapped his head to the front door. Them all watching as you began to walk through the flames. "What the FUCK is mate doing?? Is mate an idiot?! Their going to get fucking burnt alive walking through that. " Soap spoke. Ghost chipping in. "Talk about burns.".

You walked through, completely unharmed by the flames. And dropped onto the floor. You were still awake, just weak. The metal pole that was through your ankle visible. Gaz looked towards price, we begging eyes for him to let go. Price nodded. Letting go of his grip on gaz. He bolted. Yelling your name and sprinting towards you.

----<3

He crouched down by you. Your eyes droopy. "Kyle..." you mumbled. "Yeah! Yeah its me." He grabbed you. Propping you up towards him. He began to check for any more injuries. Expecting burns, more bleeding. Only to be met with nothing. "How the hell did you not burn?! Your not hurt anywhere. Besides your ankle. Which already looked almost healed!" He spoke fast. Thinking he was seeing this. Only for you to giggle and his gaze to be meeting yours.

"Haven't your heard? Witches don't burn."

A/N : HAPPY HALLOWEEENN!! I'll proofread it later <3

#cod #call of duty #cod x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #141 #gaz mw2 #gaz garrick #tf 141 #gaz x reader #ghost cod #gaz x you #gaz x y/n #gaz x gn!reader

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christabelq · 3 months

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'SOULSTAR' BOOK REVIEW...

I haven’t done a review for a while, but I felt I should for this book, as I didn't like it and wanted to explore why. The book’s about a necromantic witch called Robin, who is fighting to make the country of Aeland a better place. At first she tries to do this by working with the new king, who appears to be quite progressive, but as time goes on, it becomes clear he’s not the person she thought he was and she needs to take a different route. She takes over as the head of the Free Democracy party when the previous leader Jacob is assassinated and ends up bringing about a revolution. The blurb for the book describes it as A WHIRLWIND OF MAGIC, POLITICS, ROMANCE, AND INTRIGUE, which sounded right up my street, but it totally didn't live up to my expectations and here are some of the reasons…

One of the villains (a terminally ill old man) is tried near the end and sentenced to hang. I find the idea of capital punishment deeply troubling, so this was never going to sit well with me. I think it’s inhumane, and when mistakes happen (which they totally do), there’s nothing you can do about it. The trial also left a bad taste in my mouth. It’s what I believe is commonly referred to as a kangaroo court, when the accused isn’t given a chance to defend himself and the verdict’s pretty much decided before anyone says a word. To make matters worse, Robin traps the man’s soul in a tree for a thousand years after he’s been hanged. This isn’t part of the court’s decision and there’s no consultation. She just does it. For me this little display suggests that power has totally gone to her head and Aeland has simply traded one arrogant despot for another, which I’m sure wasn’t what the author had in mind.

The pacing feels off. Parts of the book seemed rushed (e.g. the revolution and a lot of the magic stuff), while other parts felt bloated and unnecessarily drawn out. The author seemed unable to tell what to focus on to best serve the story, and if there was any editorial guidance, it must have been pretty poor judging by how it turned out.

Complex issues are dealt with in what for me seems like a totally simplistic way. The revolutionaries are holier than thou and the people they’re fighting against are like pantomime villains, when in the real world, almost everyone is somewhere in the middle. You only really hear one viewpoint about stuff and the whole mess gets cleared up in a ridiculously short amount of time.

The character of Zelind. Zelind is non-binary, which on the face of it sounds great, but the sense I got was that khe was a token character. I had no clue about kher appearance or what kher life as non-binary was like (e.g. the specific challenges khe faced). I noticed that the author used the wrong pronouns for kher a few times (usually SHE/HER, but also at least one THEY), which made me wonder if KHE was once a SHE and the non-binary element was added quite late in the writing process to be on trend or something. It certainly doesn’t add to the plot in any way. If it wasn't a late change, then it's another example of sloppy editing. You expect that kind of slip in self-published books, but not when they're from a big company like Tor and not when its something people might be sensitive about. I also wondered how everyone the character meets seems to immediately know which pronouns to use for kher. I don’t have any direct experience of this myself, but I’m guessing it doesn’t always work that way for real non-binary people, so it doesn’t ring true. Another thing that didn’t seem realistic was the way the character rustled up a machine to generate electricity at the drop of a hat, when others have been trying for years and utterly failing. It’s not properly explained how khe is able to do it and it all happens off camera so to speak, so you don’t get to see what it actually involves. This character could have been so much more and for me was a big disappointment.

The plot feels contrived. I knew all along where the book was headed, so getting through it felt like a chore. There were also quite a few times when seemingly hopeless situations were quickly resolved by unlikely events, e.g. Robin happening to know there would be a hidden door which would allow her and Grace to escape from a burning room, or footsteps lying undisturbed on a snowy rooftop for days, so Robin can solve the mystery of Jacob’s assassination (luckily there hasn’t been any snow in the meantime and it hasn't melted either). Magic also felt a bit convenient at times and the rules around it seemed to shift to fit the plot.

So those are my biggest gripes. I won’t tell anyone they shouldn’t read the book, because I’ve seen a lot of glowing reviews and I’m sure a lot of people will 💜 it, but for me it just didn’t work. I haven’t read the other books in the Kingston cycle and I won’t be doing now. This one was more than enough. 2/5

#follow for follow #follow back #like for like #christabelq #christabel simpson #soulstar #soul star #kingston cycle #lgbtq books #queer author #c.l. polk #good idea badly written #revolution is super easy #tor need new editors #book review #book recommendations

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clambuoyance · 2 years

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I love Kon but one think that really annoys me abt the comics is that they never acknowledged how messed up it was that he was dating older woman (Tana, Knockout) as a 16 year old. Does Kon even know it was wrong? WHERE WERE ALL THE ADULTS IN HIS LIFE WHEN THIS WAS HAPPENING!!

ugh yeah, i know his solo comic is not the only case of this happening, but its why i avoided reading his solo for a while (and why i prefer the latter half of his solo and his yj comics instead). and why im glad thats one thing we left in the 90s. so okay this is about to get into some fucked up things and general ranting about completely unnecessary comics bullshit so tw: grooming, p*dophilia, SA

So yeah, as much as I love him and his comics, i do have a lot of criticism for his solo. (but there are a lot of issues i do like so ill try to make a list of my faves one day)

in his solo comics, kon dates this 23/24 yr old reporter named Tana, and later has this brief fling with a villain named Knockout. And kon's character is obviously meant to be the "cool teen" which i guess in the 90s meant being into older women. That, or the writer is pushing his weird fantasies onto him, which happens quite a lot with comics (Idk comic book romances are usually so weird to me they push for really strange stuff). At the same time though, there was a letter i read from a reader at the time that expressed concern over letting kon date older women, bc they were worried his feelings would get hurt, as well as question why no one has really taken kon under their wing, so there were definitely people in the 90s that thought that shit was weird as fuck. But I also saw a recent comment from a dude that didn't bat an eye at it which says a lot about that guy like come on dude we r in the 2020s :/

Anyways, the thing with Tana frustrates me because it was such a missed opportunity for an interesting female character of Hawaiian ethnicity and they could have easily made her Kon's age and make her like a member of the highschool's newsclub or something, but the writer had to fuck it up and make it weird...Kon can be uncomfortably flirty in this era of comics, but the fact Tana returns it and even acknowledges their age difference and still pushes for it is even more uncomfortable. She even says she feels more like his mom at one point and even reports on his school activities. I mean when Kon is first introduced, she expresses concern that the news outlet is just taking advantage of him bc he doesn't know any better, and her boss says she's doing the same, but then she grows to care more about kon as a person :/ She only breaks up with him after his operation that gets him stuck at 16 for a while, because she doesn't wanna date a dude that will never grow up or mature, which is fucked up to me bc he is 16 of course he's immature T-T

But at the same time, this was never weird to the writer's mind, so he writes Tana as being superboy's guiding figure that sort of helps him learn about morals and about being a person. So she's still very important to him, i just wish it didn't have to be so WEIRD.

(Tangent, and not at all exclusive to superboy comics, but I truly do hate how women in 90s comics, especially those that are not white, are treated as 'exotic' almost, and while Tana was wrong for dating a teen, i also blame the writer in the treatment of her character, even if there were other Hawaiian characters present that I did like like Sam and Hillary)

Of course, the Knockout situation is like 10x more fucked up, because Tana was at least kind and caring to him, but Knockout straight up manipulates him. This one is even more uncomfy so i'd skip over #23-31 (tw for SA) if you wanna avoid it, but it does affect Kon a lot after. I think the writer was trying to lean into the "rebel bad boy" schtick by making Kon get swept up by a hardcore fury. They do have other characters address the situation, but they point out that it's bad to hang with a villain and run from the law rather than point out how he's being taken advantage by someone older than him. In this arc, Mae Kent/Supergirl says he's unworthy of being a Super, and he almost believes it. The ending to this arc is really intense tbh, bc kon slowly realizes how wrong it all is after knockout tries to get him to kill a person. he goes to confront her and she literally attempts to SA him, but instead they have a showdown in which kon attempts to drown the both of them in order to stop her, before saving her instead because he can't kill her (he never kills and shows empathy towards his antagonists). he's clearly shaken up by it, but the comic writes that he's mostly shocked that people could ever act like that, again never explicitly saying that her being older or sexually using him was fucked up, just that her being a villain was fucked up. But this arc did serve to show kon fight for what’s right and show that he is worthy of being a super, and that he’s lost some of his innocence but not his faith in good

anyways, i highly doubt any of this will ever be addressed in canon, bc as time goes on with comics, side characters such as these fade away to the point where they might not even have played a part in a character's life, so who knows. not only that, but this sort of stuff is just casually thrown into comics in general and barely ever addressed again? id like to say its only a 90s thing but ive read some 2000s stuff with other characters have weird shit too.

i think the closest thing you're ever gonna get is this panel of serling, who is kon's age and probably the only love interest i actually kinda liked, telling kon that she understands the feeling of meeting someone who's seen and done it all (like say, an older person) and how exciting that can be for someone like her and kon who have never really experienced real life, only to realize that there's often something far darker underneath. again, not explicitly stated enough imo, but its there and does imply why Kon got so easily taken advantage of and that he does realize on some level that it was wrong . (i could be missing other panels that address it but idk i just remembered this one mostly)

So yeah, sorry for rambling. it's just a very messed up situation. i do think it's weird that none of the adults stepped in and watched out for him more, but at the same time, the writer clearly didnt see the need to.

i don't blame people for ignoring it or leaving it out in their canons, bc you can still explore the "being taken advantage of" from different angles that aren't as uhhhhh gross but yeah that’s that sorry for the rant 😭

At least his appearances in yj comics are much happier ☹️

#superhero comics stop putting ur characters into weird romances challenge #not kon but there are some parts in red robin or robin that also make me similarly uncomfy #kon el #clam answers #dc

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