Celebrating the beautiful and desperate in all of fandom. A member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (aka Mormon). Find me as sanctuary_for_all on Ao3.
Having a super-spy boyfriend was not at all like the movies made it seem.
For the most part, Thea loved it that way. She vastly preferred their monster-movie nights to dinner in uncomfortably expensive restaurants, and she'd almost entirely broken him of trying to be suave around her. He did tend toward ridiculously dramatic gifts, but he preferred tiger lilies and stuffed video game characters over expensive jewelry and sexy dresses she would never wear.
She wasn't thrilled about the fact that she hardly ever saw him, but she could hardly argue against someone being dedicated to their job. His assignments being far away from her did mean she was in far less physical danger than the usual spy girlfriend. (When she was being sensible, which was less often than she should be these days, she could admit it was a good thing.)
Of course, dating a super-spy did mean dealing with a certain bouts of movie-like absurdity. Say, like when they're trying to surprise you with a long-planned vacation.
Thea blinked at her boss. "An absurdly wealthy, conveniently secretive Italian philanthropist called you." She recapped his explanation in her flattest tone, hoping the sheer impossibility would somehow penetrate the man's brain. She may have been short, with dark skin and curls pulled back into a sensible ponytail, but she'd had a lot of sarcasm practice. "In person, instead of having one of their 10,000 assistants do it. Asking for some random Chicago computer security specialist to fly to Rome to work on some unspecified, open-ended project. He will not only pay for all this, including a per-diem fee that will turn next year's taxes into a nightmare, but he's also planning on spiriting this random specialist around in his private jet."
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the only reason i have never been groomed online is because when i was 10 i befriended 17 year olds who taught me how to interact with older people online safely.
yall have got to stop being scared of children online and start actually teaching them the ropes. because if you are not up there with them then they're going to be completely alone with the creeps and have 0 metric for what is and is not an appropriate relationship. this also applies offline.
when i was in my first internet community-- which was a well-moderated space-- my parents were concerned i was Talking to Adults. what they meant by this was that lifetime channel had recently done a couple movies in a row about internet grooming and murder, where isolated young girls were lured to meet much older men (who had lied about their own age) in person.
despite being a child of the 80s whose parents, understandably, had no experiential basis for teaching internet safety, i knew internet safety. no real name, no real location, don't share your age more than a rough range if at all, etc. why did i know those things? because adults in my first fandom communities taught me and other kids who showed up in those forum and chat spaces. they moderated or deleted messages that shared too much, laid ground rules, shepherded us. i knew those people in community, not in isolation (another tip the forum babies were given).
when my parents tried to ban me from all fandom internet-- a thing that was 80% of my social experience, as a rural, autistic, homeschooled teenager-- i posted a farewell in the forum (after a whole day of angry crying and arguing). one sweet member of the forum was a 20-something mom with two toddlers, and she wrote a lovely letter for me to print for my parents explaining how the community was moderated and what a benefit it could be and offered her own email and phone number if they wanted to chat.
they didn't reach out to her, but that letter is why i was allowed to stay online. just having the offer and the explanation was enough to reassure my parents. i wasn't besties with this woman, just a casual friend in the same space, but we stayed in touch. i respected her and the advice she and other adults in that community gave and it kept me safe in other interactions going forward
i'm friends with many of the people from that community on facebook now. they're still friends with each other. that kind woman? i watched via internet as her kids graduated. she watched me get married and have my own kids.
one of my older friends in another fandom was in her thirties when i got my driver's license as a teen. she celebrated with me. she sent my oldest kids a baby shower box that contained blankets that became their special blankies they still have saved somewhere as teens.
those relationships have been some of the most important ones of my teen years. they were people who enjoyed fandom chats with me, but also invested in me as a PERSON and not just as a kid they were tolerating. in the right context of healthy friendship, their advice and perspective kept me safe and helped me grow.
of course there are red flags kids should be taught for any relationship, but to stigmatize friendships across generational gaps harms kids more than it helps them. kids NEED friends that cross those spaces.
@maraskywalkers replied to your post āone of my favoriteeeee buddie things is when eddie...ā:
when he realizes he's in love with buck & there's no other way to say it because he can't leave room for buck to doubt or not get it but that means he has to say it like letting himself know it & want it (because he won't let himself want things etc) & then be like having to tell buck like the potential for some delicious pining & angst & then an emotionally tense confession because he's doing it he's saying out loud to buck hey I'm in love with you I want to be with you you make so happy and that scares me sometimes but I'm gonna let myself have it this time etc I'm just saying
(i don't know why this suddenly made me think of this specific scenario but i'm rolling with it)
āwhen eddie realizes his first instinct is to flinch away from it.
he wants to close his eyes again, to be the person who Didn't Know, who could be buck's friend without all the strings. but the door is cracked, pandora's box is open, and despite every terrible thing that comes with realizing that he's in love with buck, eddie is unable to help the hope that lingers beneath everything.
this could be good, the lingering thing tells him. its voice sounds like every good thing that has clung to eddie despite his best efforts. it sounds like buck. we could really be good, eddie.
and eddie, painfully, reluctantly, trusts in buck's voice. so he decides to try.
he lingers around buck, more than usual. he laughs at all his jokes. he lingers, now, allowing himself to soak in buck's warmth when their shoulders brush. he calls buck big guy and bud and means the love of my life. he wears buck's old LAFD tee when they watch movies together. all very obvious signals.
buck does not kiss him. eddie decides to get even more obvious.
eddie tells him that he's important to him one day, driving home in buck's stupid new truck. buck stares at him for so long, so startled, that cars behind them begin to honk as they slow down on the road.
"are you...okay?" buck asks.
"why wouldn't i be?"
"you're acting weird."
i want you to kiss me. "you're acting weird."
buck bites his lip. eddie wishes he was buck's bottom lip, or maybe his teeth. "okay?" he says, a little pink to his cheeks. "you're, uh, you're important to me, too...?"
eddie waits, but he doesn't slide a hand over eddie's thigh, or tangle their fingers together. a failure, then.
he keeps trying. "you're really good with chris" gets a flushed grin. "that shirt looks good on you" gets buck buying him the same shirt in his size. "it would be nice to be partners again" gets a wistful little smile and knocked-together shoulders. all nice, sweet things, but not what eddie wants.
eddie is, he rapidly and horrifyingly realizes, going to have to say it out loud.
the thought feels like razor-blades on his skin, like a bullet lodged in his shoulder. eddie doesn't know how to, is the thing. the words aren't going to come out right. he's never known how to tell someone other than christopher that he loves them without poisoning them.
still. still. eddie looks at buck, the big, broad reality of him, the knowledge under his skin that buck could, if eddie just asked. that they could have a life that's even more beautiful than the one they're living now, together but unspoken.
buck deserves better than silence, eddie knows. buck has always deserved better than silence, and eddie has so rarely been able to give it to him. he can give it to him now.
on the couch in buck's house, eddie opens his mouth. closes it.
"what is it, eddie?" buck asks, because buck always knows when eddie wants to say something, is always watching.
i love you. i love you.
"nothing."
in the locker room, light carding through buck's curls; i want you shrivels in his throat. behind the engine, buck grinning as he flicks soapy water into eddie's face; i want us to be together turns to ash in his sternum. sitting on the back porch in buck's big backyard and watching his eyes soft and glowing; please, please, please kiss me until i forget my own name ties itself into knots on his tongue.
eddie can't say it, he realizes. the words are like an atrophied muscle, desiccated from disuse. he tries, again and again, to open his heart to buck. inside, the words are too weak to escape. hope remains at the bottom of the box. hope remains trapped.
coward, he tells himself. this voice sounds like shannon.
maybe it wasn't meant to be, after all. if this is the best he can do, then what can he even offer buck? words that have died, a heart sluggish from disuse, a man who has ruined every home he's ever touched.
eddie looks at himself in his bathroom mirror, the lines beginning at the edges of his eyes, every smile line drawn by this impossible life that he'd never thought he'd be able to deserve. how selfish, to want something more, despite it all. how foolish, to think that he would be capable of it.
he's almost startled when he sees the tear rolling down his jaw. the next one. one by one, dripping onto the countertop. he can feel a pressure in his throat, a decade of words dissolved into wastewater and rot inside of him. he clenches his teeth, but something like a sob escapes him anways.
"eddie?"
he presses his knuckles to his face in a futile attempt to hide it, but he can hear buck's footsteps inside the tiled bathroom. he hadn't even heard his front door open. or maybe he had, and it is just that buck is so integral a part of his home that it did not register as notable in his mind.
"eddie, what's-- what's wrong?" there's a frantic edge to buck's voice, another step closer. eddie steps back. the footsteps go silent.
"eddie," buck says, heartbroken. eddie lets out another, helpless sob. he's never been a pretty crier.
a rustle, then gentle, tentative touch. eddie wants to flinch away from it. but, the thing at the bottom of the box. he trembles, instead.
"please," buck says. "you have to tell me what's wrong."
"i'm in love with you."
silence. and, oh. eddie was right. he really only knows how to wield love in a way that hurts.
"you--" buck's voice shakes. his fingers, on eddie's elbows, are shaking too. "you-- what?"
"i love you," eddie's voice quavers. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean to say it like that."
silence, then: "how did you mean to say it?"
eddie presses his knuckles deeper into his eyes, hiding. "i don't know. not like this."
"but you were going to tell me?" there's a strange note in buck's voice.
"i was trying." bitter, trembling from his lips. poison is so much easier to spill than anything sweet.
fingers on his hands. eddie struggles, but only nominally. buck tugs his hands down, and eddie blinks away the blur of his vision, looks at the gentle hold that buck has around his palms. he wants to tell him to hold on tighter. he knows he does not have that right.
"eddie," buck breathes out. "you were-- you were trying to tell me that you love me?"
"i couldn't."
a pause, then a soft laugh, so dissonant with eddie's mood that it makes him look up. buck is smiling at him, eyes red-rimmed, bright, smile luminous.
"you did," he says. "i-- oh, that's what you meant. i've been trying to figure it out."
"you-- what?"
"you were being weird lately!"
"you're weird," eddie says, instinctive. buck laughs, head tilted back, looks at him like eddie did something incredible, instead of this fumbling, awkward thing.
"you are so--" buck's eyes sparkle, and eddie startles as his hands cup eddie's jaws, thumbs wiping away his tears. "i'm sorry i didn't hear you."
"i should've been able to say it out loud."
"you did," buck repeats, marveling, sure, hopeful, and kisses him.
(after, curled up in bed together, eddie in buck's LAFD tee and buck curled around him like a question mark, answered, eddie mumurs all the things that had been so stuck in his throat. all the softest words that he'd been unable to dislodge. buck trembles at every one, and eddie gets to wipe his tears away, this time.
"i love you," eddie says, again and again. the words weren't dead, after all. they were just waiting for somewhere safe to land.)
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in all seriousness, if you're craving ice cream, it's likely that your body needs fat and carbs. If ice cream isn't an option for whatever reason, you can try to feed yourself something else with a significant amount of fat and/or carbs. You may also be dehydrated if you're craving sweets.
That said, sometimes your body and brain do genuinely just need a pick me up.
The more frequently you practice intuitive eating like this, the better you'll get at figuring out what it is that your body is asking for.
Also, a great trick is to take a look at what you're craving, note the nutritional contents (fat, carbs, protein, plant matter/fiber) and try and figure out what else sounds tasty for your particular craving. This can give you more data points to go off of. For instance, if you're craving ice cream, but a sweet roll sounds just as good, it's probably carbs your body is asking you for. That said, if you're craving ice cream and a sweet roll doesn't sound good at all BUT a bagel with strawberry cream cheese or avocado toast DOES sound good, you know it's fat you're needing.
If all you're craving is ice cream and nothing else sounds worth the effort, you may just need a low effort mood boost, which is also totally valid! This can also help you even if you can't have ice cream, because now that you know what your body actually wants, you know there are more ways to fulfill that order than the way it asked you to!
also, uh.. Migraines.
I started getting a migraine and all of a sudden I just NEEDED Ice cream. I had some in the freezer so put some in a cup, went off, and it was instantly fixed.
Turned out the cold in ice cream can alter the blood flow via the veins in the top of the mouth and that somehow can fix migraines? Ice water will do the same. But if you are getting a migraine, try getting ice cold water or ice cream to the roof of your mouth as a first step fix.
I have genuinely never regretted listening to my body when I had a genuine craving.
A couple of months ago, when we were trying to get my insulin/blood sugar all set and I was struggling real hard, I also had a HUGE craving for shellfish. I generally don't eat shellfish on account of, you know, Jewish, but when all I could think about for DAYS was eating COLD SHRAMP RIGHT NOWWWWW, I went and got some.
I felt better right away, and my wife pointed out that we usually use sea salt in our food, which usually doesn't have iodine in it. She got us some sea salt with iodine, and I stopped dreaming of shrimp, and my blood sugar/insulin situation calmed down, bc iodine helps glucose processing.
Also like... even though it was extremely treyf, it made me feel good to listen to my body and give it what it asked for, even if it was a "forbidden/bad food" the way that most Americans talk about ice cream. Sometimes just listening to yourself is what you need as much as anything.
It makes you more confident in your body, and that's rad.
Also, I use that ice cream trick for migraines all the time.
The Talmud actually directly addresses the topic of severe cravings and for the record, eating treyf in your situation was absolutely following halacha:
Iodine levels are a whole thing thatās been backgrounded in a lot of countries because we get it through iodized salt, but if we stop getting our required iodine it can really fuck us up.
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Okay, as much as I love Rocky extending Grace's life without telling him, consider: Rocky *does* tell Grace, Grace just then somehow manages to like. Horrendously misinterpret what the treatment is actually for. Like.
Eridian Doctor: We went through the human genome and found a bunch of places with old broken DNA repair mechanisms so we came up with a gene editing therapy that fixes them in order to extend your lifespan.
Grace: *flashbacks to when Rocky found out that humans can experience long term effects from lower doses of radiation exposure and Grace wasn't being as careful as he should have been back when they first met because he still thought this was gonna be a suicide mission*
Grace (internally): Oh, so cancer prevention! Got it!
forgot to say that, without Howl chasing girls and Sophie resenting him for it, the film completely erases part of the point of Sophie being old. Ā Wynne Jones is using an idea that Beauvoir talked about - that being an old woman is both tragic (as we lose male attention/attractiveness) and freeing (as we are freed from the male gaze). Ā the idea is that with being old comes liberation, and the true meaning of what it is to be a woman, as society no longer forces gender norms on us.
Sophie is free from Howlās attentions and therefore safe from harm (a big part of the book is the fact that Sophie believes he eats womenās hearts, and him chasing girls proves this to her). Ā she takes solace in the fact that sheās old, and finds it freeing. Ā when she learns more about Howl (notably: that he doesnāt eat hearts and that heās not evil), she starts to curse her age and resent him chasing girls. Ā BUT she remains old OF HER OWN VOLITION - Howl notes that sheās perpetuating the spell by wishing to remain āin disguiseā. Ā there are SO many layers to this, and lots to do with gender politics - if sheās still old Sophie canāt get hurt, she likes the freedom, etc. Ā but of course on a personal level being old is her denying her feelings for Howl, and also a representation of her low self esteem - being old is a defence mechanism and protection, both on a gender level and a personal one.
and the film kindaā¦ loses this? Ā the only thing that remains is being old = low self esteem. Ā which really sucks. Ā because thereās SO MUCH MORE to Sophie being old in the book (perspective I already mentioned), and a HUGE amount of this is gender politics. Ā that the film just erases.
Also thereās the subversion of that in the book. Sophieās belief that sheās safe from Howl, isnāt quite true because he fell in love with her while she was under the spell (and in the book, thereās no switching between looking young and old. Sophie is looking ninety the entire time, and Howl falls in love anyway.)
Also, her belief that being old means she canāt go to her stepmother or her sisters, that theyād fail to recognize her or reject her, is also unfounded. Fanny almost immediately recognizes her at the end of the book, and hugs her and cries over her and asks why Sophie disappeared. Sophieās belief that the love of her family, friends and even her romantic interests is somehow conditional on her appearance is shown to be completely false at the end, which I think is absolutely beautiful.
Like, thereās definitely gender politics and commentary going on about beauty and youth and age and the male gaze and male violence going on, but thereās also this message about how love, real love, transcends all of that.
I actually adore the movie on its own merits, but I think it absolutely did a disservice to Sophie as a character. When I was doing a reread last month, what hit me was that Sophie is every bit as much of a volatile emotional disaster as Howl is, and thatās pretty heckinā great.Ā
Howl is a pissy, dramatic asshole even when heās at his best. He dissolves into green slime when his hair looks wrong. He deals with his problems by getting falling-over drunk and makes the walls shake every time he sneezes just so everyone will take pity on him. Heās a self-proclaimed coward who has to trick himself into taking responsibility for anything.
Movie Sophie deals with this as well as she can. She learns to look past his drama and sees his tender heart and noble intentions. She becomes the mature one in the castle, fixing everyoneās problems, essentially taking up a motherly role to all the other characters.
Book Sophie does the sameā¦ but she does it while dealing out as good as she takes. Howl is chasing after every woman except Sophie? Sophie meticulously cuts up his suit into triangles. Howl floods the room with green slime? Sophie hate-magics weed killer strong enough to melt concrete, and chucks it at Howlās head. Howl canāt stop avoiding his problems? Meet the queen of avoidance, who clung to her curse to avoid confronting her feelings for Howl. Howl has to basically trick himself into taking action? I would like you to meet Sophie, who was too scared to leave her home her whole life, but the moment sheās under a curse is likeĀ āWELP, GUESS IāD BETTER LEAVE HOME RIGHT THIS MOMENT AND NEVER COME BACK.ā
The moment of Howl and Sophie getting together in the book isnāt āSophie fixes everything through her inherent goodness.ā Itās āSophie realizes that Howl has been secretly scheming to fix all her problems exactly the same way that she has been secretly scheming to fix all his problems because neither of them is a normal functioning adult, and they both look forward to yelling at each other for the rest of their wonderful lives.ā And losing that, losing all of Sophieās flaws and ridiculous moments as well as Howlās efforts to fix her life as much as sheās trying to fix his, means that weāre left with a typical romance trope of a woman having to fix all of a manās problems and be the perfect, mature one in the relationship, while he can coast purely on charm. The revelation that half of Howlās antics were actually schemes to break Sophieās curse or even just make her happy is important because for once it goes both ways. Not just āwoman fixes man with her love,ā but āpeople fix each other with their love, sort of, except for all the parts that will never change and thatās okay because flaws can be just as attractive as virtues, and if he laughs when you throw weed killer at him then he might be the one.ā
People in the Omegaverse are probably writing Betaverse fanfiction where there is no A/B/O dynamics and everyone just falls in love with eachother's personality instead of pheromones and hormones controlling their desires.
AU: Patriarchal husbands enact a massive censorship and surveillance state apparatus to keep their wives from escaping or being corrupted. Everyone's movements must be monitored and tracked in case a wife tries to escape her husband. Media is censored of all potential eroticism, just in case women get too hormonal and horny, and potentially cheat on their husbands. Media is required to have explicitly pro-obedience themes, so women don't get any subversive ideas about rebelling against their husbands' authority. These policies are framed as "protecting women."
Many unmarried men object to this. Why should they be censored or surveilled for the sake of another man's wife? "Fuck them women!" is their rallying cry. "It's husbands' job to control their wives, not mine! Women are disgusting, anyway. Why should I give up my freedom for the sake of your gross, hysterical, hormonal, shrill, menstruating wife? I didn't choose to be saddled with that smelly, whiny bitch."
From a far corner, a lone voice expresses a fringe, extremist opinion: "I think you're both wrong, actually. What if women are just people? What if they actually should be able to read whatever they want, and even disobey or leave their husbands if they choose to, because they're people, not property? And if your only objection to women's oppression is that it affects you, or that they're 'disgusting' and you shouldn't have to be reminded of their existence, you're also part of the problem. Both of your factions should just stop being misogynistic."
The pro- and anti- surveillance factions turn to the fringe extremist and say, in unison, "Why do you want access to other men's wives? To rape them? You pervert!"
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Assorted "Shane becomes familiar with the rhythms of Ilya's depression" thoughts post-TLG:
Shane talking too much because he realizes that Ilya isn't talking at all and he needs to fill the silence and make sure Ilya knows that Shane isn't holding it against him.
Shane double triple checking that the backup meds are in Ilya's carry-on before they go on a Western Conference road trip. He doesn't nag Ilya about it, but when they get to the airport Ilya starts rifling through everything, thinking he forgot them, when Shane reaches into the front pocket and shows him the orange bottle is right there. Not that they couldn't get them, but Shane wants Ilya to avoid stress as much as possible.
Shane notices that Ilya is able to work fine through his episodes, but that hockey tires him out more. He suggests a quiet day at home with Anya in between home games, saying that he actually needs the downtime. Maybe many couch blowjobs can cure depression.
Ilya goes through the phase where he doesn't want to take his medicine because it's fucking with his libido. He throws one of these at Shane- "Your choice, you can leave me because I can't fuck you or you can leave me because I'm a miserable fuck" and Shane loses it because in his mind nothing, nothing, could make him leave Ilya, this is it for him, and yet Ilya continues to think that one inciting event will result in Shane abandoning him. Shane slams the fridge/oven door/barbell or whatever he's holding back into place and says "If you think I'm such a shallow asshole maybe I should draw up divorce papers for you" and then it becomes this theater of Shane opening his laptop to email their lawyer and Ilya starts crawling on the ground begging for Shane to forgive him and crying and Shane has to reckon with how his reaction made this worse but he's only human too and can only take so much when Ilya starts hurling this stuff at him. Shane apologizes too. Ilya takes his medicine the next day in front of Shane while he shaves in the bathroom mirror.
"I'm not your babysitter, Ilya, you have to want to feel better, this is your life" except Shane does hide all the pills in the house sometimes, putting them in his gym bag and keeping them in the car when things are rough. One day while Ilya is chopping vegetables he realizes that he doesn't really know how to hide all the knives. They have a big set, bought during happy times because they really enjoy cooking together, but now Shane is looking at them like they could be the end of his life.
Shane knowing a depressive state is coming on because Ilya directs all his responses to Anya.
Happy times when Ilya is evened out, so so happy and making everyone laugh and being the captain that Shane knows Ilya wants to be, and feeling guilty that Shane's come to dread the come-down from such a high.
Shane's desperate phone call with Galina of all people when Ilya disappears for like twelve hours in his Porsche. He's white knuckling not calling the police because he knows it'll leak and everyone will know and there's nothing they can do anyway. Galina talks him through it, keeps him calm, and Shane wonders if this is what therapy is like.
The relief Shane feels when Ilya says he thinks this is the right dose of medicine. He can't help but love it when Ilya holds him so tight, like Shane alone tethers him to the Earth. He can't help but love that Ilya needs him so much.
"Wanna talk about it, baby?" Pause. "No. I want you to get on your knees for me."
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