#cw implied ableism

[neons-haven]

small ramble about a keygaurd I saw on etsy

I was looking for someone to make me a custom keyguard cause I feel like I would benefit from one, and while looking through pictures, I saw a guard that covered some buttons and the grid didn't have the word "no" on it.

I know you shouldn't assume things, but it just made me uncommon to see :(

[mitz-prompts]

prompt: will suffers hearing loss in s1

idfk i was thinking about my deaf dog and wanted to work with the concept of hearing loss. especially like…

in mid-late season one, will still holds out hope that his neurological symptoms are evidence of some temporary illness that can be fixed. even if it's trauma and mental illness, it's still something that can be fixed (or at least healed from, to an extent). i wonder how he would react to knowing that he suffered something permanent i guess? a permanent loss caused by his job? would that change his calculation about continuing to throw himself into field work? i guess probably not, but i wanted him to grapple with that grief. idk.

here's what google's first result for "hearing loss gunfire" said (full transcription in alt text):

i don't think the loss of his hearing would be like. catastrophic for him, all things considered. there are worse things to lose for him, and his job doesn't rely on his hearing quite as much as his sight and his brain and his ability to communicate his ideas. but it would still be a loss on a human level.

also presumably it isn't an on-off thing, like, it would take much more hearing damage for him to be deaf, this is more like partial hearing loss.

[solazu1]

[the-firefly-jar-system]

“grippy sock jail/vacation”, “i’m so ocd!”, “my ex was such a narcissist/psychopath/sociopath”, “delulu!”, “is it acoustic?”, “being silly goofy manic”, “lobotomycore”, “you’re giving me ptsd!”, “i’m such a psycho lol”, “me and my split personality!”, “that’s so cr*ppled”, “you’re so bipolar”, “how’s that extra chromosome?”, “barcode/cutting board/wrist check!”

shut the fuck up. like actually shut it.

[pt: shut the fuck up. like actually shut it. /end pt]

(specifically referring to people who don’t have the disorders/experiences they’re joking about)

[vincevongliscor]

//OOC POST

3.5k words under the cut: prom with Vincent and Orion and co.!!!

Vincent was currently seated at one of the further tables in the main hall, scrolling through his phone, tapping his foot a bit nervously. If asked, he would deny that he was nervous in the first place, but as it was: no one came up to talk to him.

He seemed to be invisible to most of the crowd, which stung more than he'd like. He was fitted in his best wear, covered with golden jewelry, hell he'd even put on a little bit of makeup for the event (mostly eyeliner but that wasn't too unusual.) He'd bet he put more thought into his outfit then most of the other people here, who'd likely just gone out and bought their clothes. He'd helped his mother hand-make his outfit.

He grinded his teeth a little. It didn't matter, he didn't really know anyone here anyways. He could easily parce out the ones he did know, and purposefully kept his head down to make sure they didn't see him.

well, that was until he felt someone kick him in the leg. Vincent yelped- more from surprise than pain- and turned to yell at the fucker who decided to risk getting his nice pants covered in dirt. the one standing next to him wasn't who he was expecting, and it made his heart jump a little. "Orion! What the hell!? Don't kick me, I don't want to get these pants dirty!" He scolded, watching the other boy sit down.

Vincent wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting when Orion agreed to come to prom. He honestly just assumed that he would throw on a button up and some slightly nicer pants and call it a day. Instead, Orion was fitted in a 2 piece suit. He didn't wear a tie, but the button up and the outer suit jacket fit him nicely. He wore one of those clip on flowers and had fastened it to the chest pocket of his jacket, and it was, of course, purple. His hair was pulled back into its usual puff-ball, though he wore two- fairly small- matching braids to help frame his face- both outfitted with some silver fastenings.

"I can do whatever the fuck I want," Orion huffed, before looking Vincent up and down. "what the hell are you wearing?" He asked, and Vincent huffed, bristling with anger.

"I'm wearing a delightul outfit I made with my mother," He said, glaring at Orion. "Not my fault you can't see it's beauty." He pointedly moved to take a swig of his soda, but it was quickly snatched from his reach. "hey!" He complained dismally as he watched Orion take a large gulp. "That's MY soda!"

"And?" Orion asked, setting the soda down. Vincent quickly snatched it back, glaring even harder.

"By Arc, would you two stop fightin' for once?" Vincent's eyes darted to the little group approaching him and Orion. He gave a polite smile and wave to Aries (Orion's older brother) and his girlfriend, Willow.

Aries was very tall in comparison to Orion- well, in comparison to most people, truthfully. He had dark skin like Orion- though a shade or two lighter. He was fairly big as well, being very widely built overall. He wore a very similar outfit to his brother, and he wore a matching flower pin, which was a nice teal color. He'd tied his usually lose locs into a bun that hung low on his head, with two pieces hanging loose to frame his face. Despite his grievances, he had a large smile on his face- showing off his delightfully charming snaggletooth.

"Orion practically dashed off as soon as I parked the car-" Aries was interrupted by Orion's cry of disagreement. "- and yet I get over here and all you're doin' is yellin' at 'em!" He scolded, crossing his arms as Orion manuvered around his chair to look at his older brother.

"I was not yelling at him!" Orion argued.

"You were certainly tryna' provoke 'em!" Aries countered, making Orion slink into his seat with a glare. Willow rolled her eyes, moving past Aries and Orion to hold a hand out to Vincent.

"It's nice to see you again, Vincent!" She exclaimed delightfully. She wore her usual loose braids in a folded up- do, her bright gold pencil dress matching the copious amounts of jewelry she was wearing, along with her brightly colored eyeshadow that highlighted her nicely tanned skin. Vincent took her hand to shake, but was pulled into an unexpected hug instead.

"Nice to see you, too!" He said as she pulled away again. She happily backed up again- going to stand next to Aries as he and Orion continued to argue.

The two of them had quickly introduced their other 3 friends: Phoebe (Fifi, she insisted), Casey, and Aurora.

Phoebe had blonde, long curled hair and fair skin, and wore a pink fishtail dress. She seemed a bit ditzy to Vincent, a bit floaty and a little clumsy, but there was something sharp about her gaze he couldn't quite place. Casey had tanned skin and brown hair, and wore a vest and button up. She seemed very nice, though a bit quiet, which Vincent understood.

Aurora was the one who stood out to most. She had done her hair into long braids with puffballs at the ends, star and moon beads hanging on as the barrier between the open ends and the braids. She wore a dark purple satin dress, with a chiffon overlay that had bright stars embroidered in abundance near the bottom. She wore black gloves as well, and kept her purse (also glittery and star themed) securely to her hip.

Even as the group ended up moving on, she stayed behind for a little while, instead turning to talk to Vincent and Orion by themselves. Apparently she was an alumni- only by about a year though, and Phoebe was the one who bought her the ticket. She was bubbly and bright, and seemed genuinely interested in the robotics talk that Orion inevitably dragged them both into.

Something about her felt off. Vincent wasn't sure about what it was, but she felt distinctly out of place, despite the avid conversation she was engaged in. Vincent elected to ignore it, despite the fact he was sure her ears were a little bit too long sometimes- though only if she was in his peripheral.

"You two are graduating early, yeah? What are you guys planning on doing after this?" She asked. She'd ended up taking a seat with them at some pont, slowly sipping through her bottled water.

Orion was the first to answer. "We- or at least i was planning on working towards becoming the Unovan Champion." He said with a slightly teasing and smug tone that was absolutely directed at Vincent, made all the more obvious by the look Orion sent him.

"As if!" Vincent huffed, leaning forward to be more engaged in the conversation. He turned to Aurora, "He thinks he's going to be champion, but out of the two of us he knows I've got the better shot at it," Vincent gloated, and Orion kicked his leg again. Vincent didn't yelp this time, only kicking him back.

Aurora laughed, watching their antics fondly. "So you both battle? I was never one for pokemon battles, honestly. I like watching them, but I'm already very busy. I can really only take care of my partner pokemon currently." She explained, and the other two nodded along.

"Whose your partner pokemon?" Vincent asked, and Aurora grinned, quickly whipping out her phone. It looked a little strange- except it didn't. It looked perfectly normal, though he was sure there was something distinct about it for a split second there.

She turned the screen towards them, scrolling through her album of nothing but a single goomy. "His name is Goober!" She excitedly exclamed. "He's so wonderful! I love him so much, he's practically my son!" She happily rambled on about him, and Vincent felt at ease.

The three of them ended up talking about their different pokemon, though mostly focused on their partner pokemon- such as Orion's Noibat, Andromeda, and Vincent's Gliscor, Dracula.

Suddenly, Aurora's phone began to buzz, and she quickly picked it up to glance at the screen. Her cheerful demeanor vanished in an instant, flicking to an emotion Vincent didn't recognize fully. She seemed to go completely taut, her gaze hardened and her lips slightly pursed. She quickly went back to giving them a warm smile, though. She stood up quickly. "I'm so sorry about this, but I've got to get going. It was nice getting to chat with you two!" She said, her tone as easy and cheerful as it had been beforehand.

Vincent and Orion were both a little stunned and confused as she quickly turned to leave. She stopped herself though, hesitating for a moment before looking back at the two of them. Once again that look was in her eye, though now that it was directed at the two of them he could tell how almost cold it was. It was nearly piercing, as if knowing something he didn't.

"I wish you both luck on becoming champion. You'll need it." She nodded, before quickly speeding away, her heels clicking against the floor as she disappeared into the crowd.

Vincent turned to look at Orion, who turned to match his gaze. They both looked fairly shocked by the unusual and ominous exchange. "What the fuck was that about?" Orion stage whispered, hesitantly glancing to where Aurora had disappeared, before looking back to Vincent.

Vincent shrugged, about as confused- and quite frankly, a little terrified- as Orion was.

The two slowly and a bit hesitantly went back to doing their own thing. They quipped at eachother, kicked each other's legs, made swipes for the other's drinks, and delighted in showing the other posts on their phone. It was a quiet sort of comfortable, one they had gotten used to a while ago.

Vincent, at some point, had set his phone down to watch the other party-goers. A lot of them were still sitting at tables or standing around, but there was a significant number of them dancing. He lightly tapped his feet along to the songs, though they weren't exactly his favorite. Orion had noticed, and followed Vincent's lead. This sparked a slightly unusual conversation between the two of them- mostly about other people they recognized.

Usually, neither of them really gossiped. Even when it was just the two of them hanging out, they didn't really talk about people at school, be it good or (usually) bad. Now, though, that little trend had broken. Instead, the two of them were snickering to eachother, laughing about the asshat's that harassed them. They were picking one of the more annoying guys in particular, when Orion had made a comment on his dancing.

"God he looks so stupid. I can't wait to see him fall on his face." He chuckled, taking a sip of his soda. Vincent nodded along.

"Honestly, i dance better than that. Then again, that's not a fair comparison, I'm a swell dancer." He gloated, and Orion rolled his eyes.

"Sure you are." He said, dramatically rolling his eyes with the most sarcastic tone his otherwise monotonous voice could convey. Vincent raised an eyebrow.

"I am a good dancer!" Vincent defended. "Better than you!"

"Yeah, obviously. I can't dance." He said, and Vincent's eyebrows furrowed.

"What? I don't believe that." He said skeptically, and Orion glared.

"I can't even walk straight, Vincent, how the hell would I be able to dance?" He said. It struck Vincent as horribly odd, considering how Orion usually seemed so dead set on proving he could do everything. Vincent frowned, and a rather unhappy feeling settled in his gut.

"That's not true!" He argued. "You can still use your cane as stability if you needed to! Hell, I've seen tons of different dances that include canes." He said, and Orion rolled his eyes, grumbling half heartedly.

"Yeah, whatever." He said, and went back to looking at his phone. Vincent was appalled. What the fuck? This was highly unusual for Orion, especially given the circumstances. Vincent had never seen Orion back down from something like this- as if he'd truly convinced himself he couldn't do something. Vincent couldn't help but feel upset.

"Whatever?" Vincent parroted incredulously. "No, absolutely not. We're dancing." He stood up with conviction, watching Orion scowl at him.

"No, I'm not. I'm not going to dance, Vincent, I just said that." He shot back, and Vincent couldn't help but feel a little put off by the genuine anger and venom in his voice. Vincent took a deep breath, feeling his own anger bubble up in his chest. What the fuck was wrong with him? Where did his friend go?

Vincent held out his hand. "I want to dance with you, Orion. I know you can do it, you're just being a stubborn ass." That seemed to startle Orion, as he dropped his phone onto the table.

"Huh?" He stared wide-eyed at Vincent, who only glowered at him more.

"Dance with me." He said, and Orion looked a bit stressed.

"What- why? Why would you want to dance with me?" He asked, gaze flitting about nervously. Vincent rolled his eyes.

"Because, dumbass, I want to." He said, before shoving his hand a little closer to Orion.

Orion looked completely and utterly lost, starting dumbly between Vincent's hand and Vincent's face, as if looking for something. After a moment he sighed, and rested his hand in his face. Vincent was about to back up, worried he'd pushed him too far, before Orion moved to take Vincent's hand. "Yeah, alright, fine." He grumbled, dipping his head in dismay as he looked away from Vincent.

He huffed, dragging Orion over to the more open dancing area. "Oh, come on, it's not that awful." Vincent grumbled. Orion didn't say anything back, so he had assumed he'd won the argument.

Thankfully, they were in the middle of playing the slower songs, so Vincent didn't have to worry about teaching him how to do more flashy moves. "Do you know the Waltz?"

"I know of it." Orion huffed, looking around the room uneasily. He held a tight grip on Vincent's hand, using it as leverage to help keep himself steady. Vincent moved to stand in front of Orion, moving the other boy's hand to his shoulder, and settling his hand on Orion's waist. That seemed to startle him into focusing onto Vincent, who just grinned in return.

"Traditionally I'd have my other hand on your other shoulder, but that's not exactly available to us right now. You can just set your other hand on my waist, it's fine." He explained, And Orion- nervously- settled his other hand on Vincent's side.

"This is weird." Orion grumbled, and Vincent frowned.

"It's only Weird if you make it weird, dumbass. I'm teaching you how to dance." He rolled his eyes. Orion seemed nervous- moreso than usual. Vincent deemed it was likely because of a few things, namely: he was in a public space (Vincent knew he preferred his solitude, usually), he was wearing different clothing than usual (he knew that Orion struggled with sensory input), and he was trying something new (Vincent knew how competitive and perfectionist he could be.)

Usually that would be a recipe for disaster, right now though he mostly just seemed a little put-off. If anything, Vincent was surprised he hadnt bitten someone's head off yet. He was able to slowly get Orion to work through each of the steps, even with his hesitation and unsteady footing. Even with his hands balancing himself, he still leaned hard into his left side, putting as little weight on his left as possible. It made Vincent frown, eyebrows furrowing.

"Orion, are you ok?" He asked quietly. Orion looked back at Vincent, confused.

"Yeah, why?"

"You don't lean this much on your left whenever you use your cane. If your right leg is bothering you, we can stop." He reassured, and Orion shook his head.

"I'm alright, it's just." He made an uncomfortable face. "Weird. I'm used to having my cane, but this is a lot different." He spoke quietly, and the roar of shuffling feet and echoing of voices, Vincent wanted to lean in to hear him better.

"That's fine. Tell me if we need to stop, yeah?" He asked, and Orion made an unsure, if not suspicious face, before nodding hesitantly.

"Alright." He said stiffly, and Vincent couldn't help but smile.

They continued to dance- a bit off tempo, and a bit slower than the songs themselves, but it was almost comforting. Vincent felt very productive, overall. Not only was he able to hang out with Orion (something that usually put him in a good mood regardless), but he was able to help Orion in some way. Lord Arceus only knows how many times Orion has helped Vincent, he was happily willing to pay him back.

Orion, despite his earlier claims, was actually fairly good at dancing. His movements were clean and precise, without being too jagged or stiff. He followed Vincent's lead really well, which was more of a surprise than not. Vincent had expected him to get a feel for the dance and start to try and lead or be pushy, but instead he just let Vincent guide them.

Granted, part of that is probably because Orion was watching their feet almost incessantly, probably due to nerves, but it certainly helped with foot placement. Vincent slowly began to notice that Orion's hands began to slowly still. Orion's tremors were a constant struggle, and while he had found many different ways around it, usually he just had to brute force them to go still- either by squishing them into a surface or holding them with an object.

They were still trembling, no doubt, but the trembles had been previously bad enough that his whole arms were shaking. Now, he seemed to have calmed down enough for it to be relegated once more to just his hands. Vincent couldn't help but feel a swell of giddy pride in his chest. Hell yeah, he was winning.

He looked up from their moving feet to glance at Orion's face. He kept his feet moving, but he doubted he could have completely hidden his surprise. For the first time that night, Orion was smiling- not the cocky smirk that usually graced his features, but instead it was a proper, soft smile as he looked at Vincent.

After a moment, Orion stopped smiling, and quickly looked back down at their feet. Vincent didn't know what had happened, but he didn't want to ask, either. All this strange behavior was making him feel a little weird. First it was Aurora, acting all ominous and strange, and now Orion was acting unpredictable- though not in a bad way, just a confusing one.

The songs began to pick up pace again, ruining the slower mood. Vincent stopped dancing, and Orion nearly stepped on his toes. "Hey, watch your step!" Vincent scolded, though it was entirely lighthearted. Orion scoffed, rolling his eyes. He broke away contact from Vincent's him, but kept his hand on his shoulder as they moved back to the table, where Orion's cane had been left.

Once they were both sitting down, Vincent smiled smugly. Orion looked over, and scowled. "You're fucking insufferable."

"I was right~" he drawled in a sing-song voice. "You liked dancing!" He accused, and Orion rolled his eyes.

"Whatever you say, bud."

"Exactly!" Vincent snickered, dodging under a ball of napkins.

They settled back into the usual tone, and Vincent had even gone to go grab some food to bring back (to which they were both a little unsure on how… edible it all actually was.) but, eventually, the music started to die out, and people began to head home.

Aries had come over to their table to retrieve his younger brother, who happily skipped away after throwing a few unsavory hand-signs Vincent's way, which were responded to with the appropriate amount of damning words.

Vincent himself ended up sitting on the brick wall outside the building, waiting for his mom's car to pull up. Once it did, he hurried inside, a lot more exhausted than he thought he was.

"Did you have fun?" His mom asked, her tone slightly teasing. He ignored it, instead nodding happily. She smiled warmly, and looked back to the road. "That's good. Anything interesting happen?" She asked, and Vincent hummed.

His mind flickered back to Aurora, her unsettling demeanor, the strange flickers of vision, perhaps it was just his bad eye playing tricks on him, but he didn't think so. Plus, there was that ominous warning. Orion had also acted strange. Nervous, anxious, and a little dodgy all evening. Vincent didn't know how to voice these thoughts, especially not when he was so tired, so instead he shook his head.

"Not really, me and Orion just hung out as usual." He said quietly, and his mom nodded

If he felt compelled to, Vincent could tell her about it all the next morning.

[mewos-laptop]

Had a convo w/ a friend abt the way Basil gets demonized in the Fandom and figured it wld work as a post ssssooooo here you goooooo

(Sarcastic intent for all of this, it's long as shit so I'm putting this here so ppl don't take it the wrong way)

"Oh wow, this character has canonically been abandoned and neglected in some way for their entire life, and act very rashly, impulsively, and obsessively because of it !!! I wonder if maybe these are symptoms of underlying trauma and a personality disorder. Ohhhh that couldn't be !!!! It's clearly just bc they're and annoying little bitchy abuser manipulator who just wants to date Sunny for his own gain and doesn't care abt his friends 😁😁😁😁 I am not perpetuating any prevalent and harmful stereotypes about BPD, an already stigmatized and demonized disorder which systematically makes it nearly impossible for health professionals to believe you in anything you say, which causes even more trauma for the person suffering from BPD. I'm so glad that I know this character SSSSOOOOOOO WELL and I am now going to post my hot takes abt them and their BPD symptoms all over Tiktok to make teenagers without personality disorders agree w/ me more, and therefore make them ostracize and demonize real people with BPD !!!! I am such a good person for this, and do not need to face any consequences to my abelist actions !!!!"

[serial-serializednovelreader]

Nova's Notes - North and South - Chapter 3

Last time we saw our heroine Margaret, she had just received word that Henry Lennox had come to call on her. Let's see how it goes!

So, she is excited to see Henry, as she has just been thinking about him and his promise. Margaret is a little surprised though, since he's supposed to be off with Edith and his brother on their honeymoon.

*record scratch* Hold up, he was accompanying them on their honeymoon??? I know right! And not just him, but his uncle as well? What kind of monster is he?

Well, five seconds ago, I would've agreed with you, but I was able to find this article that points to this being a fairly common practice in order to ease the woman into the marriage (not exactly an academic source, but the first one I found). So, he's not intruding or third-wheeling, but instead helping grow the marriage. What a nice guy, right? Well...avid readers of this will know I'm not Henry's biggest fan, and in the first few sentences he -- again -- says something that raises my hackles a bit.

“'Oh!' said he, more lightly, 'our young couple were playing such foolish pranks, running all sorts of risks, climbing this mountain, sailing on that lake, that I really thought they needed a Mentor to take care of them. And indeed they did: they were quite beyond my uncle’s management, and kept the old gentleman in a panic for sixteen hours out of the twenty-four. Indeed, when I once saw how unfit they were to be trusted alone, I thought it my duty not to leave them till I had seen them safely embarked at Plymouth.'”

Oh no, our couple has done the horrible problem of -- *checks notes* -- having fun on their honeymoon...? If their version of a "prank" is ditching their relatives to get some alone time -- uh, yeah, I would too!!! I mean, I guess I can see where he's coming from on some of these points if they truly are taking dangerous risks, but it honestly sounds like they're trying to sneak in some alone time here and doing fun couple activities together. It's not good that the uncle is panicking, but his brother is in the army. Surely he's prepared for things like mountain climbing and saying they're "unfit to be alone" is quite ridiculous. If he's worried about them doing...other kinds of activities while alone...I hate to tell him, but they're already married so that ship has sailed (literally). If he's truly worried about "danger," how is he -- a lawyer -- more prepared to face it than his brother who's in the army? (Not that lawyers can't face danger, considering Jonathan from Dracula is a lawyer and he just climbed a castle wall not too long ago, but that's a different book/genre lol). Also presenting himself as a "Mentor" (capital M) is HILARIOUS to me considering a) he's younger than at least one of them and b) mentor to what? Being married??? Henry???? He probably means climbing or sailing, but my version is funnier -- just saying.

I guess he might also be kidding about some of this, which is something I should have considered but didn't because I don't pick up well on social cues (I'm like Margaret in that way: we'll get there :D). So if he is kidding, sorry about that, but if I'm to take what he's saying at face value here, he just sounds like a nuisance to the couple. He says he's now "relieved of many responsibilities" but it just sounds like he put those responsibilities on himself.

He then gives her a note from Edith and she doesn't want to read it in front of him because she "half wish[ed] to read it alone and unwatched". I find this interesting that she has to make up an excuse to get away from him here, just to do so! Is it because Margaret doesn't feel comfortable reading letters in front of people in general, or because Henry specifically causes the discomfort? Gaskell doesn't elaborate, but I'll keep an eye out for if she feels comfortable enough to read a letter in front of anyone else in a future chapter, because either could be valid.

Henry begins to look around the room in "his scrutinizing way" and notices how "poor" the place looks, even when the light is hitting it, which should make it looks its best. Then he says this (with a sigh):

"'The living is evidently as small as she said. It seems strange, for the Beresfords belong to a good family.'”

Oh, no! You've just activated a red flag!!! This whole reply is a red flag, but I want to highlight the main problem area (in my opinion) -- the "as she said". What's the problem with this?

To me, this indicates he didn't listen to her when she told him how small her living was the first time around. He assumed she was downplaying it and would come back to find something more like Harley Street. I suppose that was the fashion back then -- to act of more humble means than you were -- but here's the thing: Margaret isn't like that. She says thing as they are and if he knew her as well as he thinks, he would've taken her words at face value. I know that just from three chapters of reading about her!! If he doesn't believe this one thing she says now, how is that going to work later if they foster a relationship (again, we're getting there)? I also just don't like that Henry is pulling a surprised Pikachu face here!!! And while I know good family = wealthy in this time period, still not a great thing to say. Like, hmm her family is poor that's weird :/. He's acting like he didn't get what he wanted for Christmas or something. Definitely not the reaction I would want from a potential partner.

Margaret, meanwhile, is dealing with a problemTM. Namely, her mother. Apparently she gets into moods where everything is an Issue and Henry is considered an Issue -- so, she refuses to see him. This is a dilemma, because Margaret had told Henry that her mamma would LOVE to meet him and will meet with him shortly. I may not know much about etiquette, but I know this is a snub if she refuses to meet with him now. Plus, her dad can't help because he was already in a bad mood (seems like something we'll unravel later) and Mrs. Hale made it worse by commenting *once again* on moving, which caused him to ask her to please stop speaking against the place. So yeah, this isn't going well!

Margaret "listen[s] patiently", but she has to figure things out somehow, so she pulls a problem-solving move. She proposes that after a quick meetup with Henry and her mom (as for it not to look weird), she and Henry can go out sketching, which will mean less interaction for her mother to worry about. Then, even though they only have cold meat for lunch, they can still make that work for the meal, since light food was usually expected at the midday meal (from what I could find -- correct me if I'm wrong) and Henry will expect it that way. That's when Mr. Hale will join them, having had enough time between 10:30 and 2:00 to compose himself.

I love seeing this side of her! We've already seen glimpses, but I think it's the first time we've truly seen her go into what I would call a "problem-solving mode". I would definitely add that to her list of qualities!

"He evidently expected to be asked to spend the day, and accepted the invitation with a glad readiness that made Mrs. Hale wish she could add something to the cold beef. He was pleased with everything; delighted with Margaret’s idea of going out sketching together; would not have Mr. Hale disturbed for the world, with the prospect of so soon meeting him at dinner."

I wonder if it's apparent to everyone involved Henry wants to be asked to stay the whole day, or if it's just Mrs. Hale? It makes sense that he wants to since he said he would be checking up on what Margaret does all day. I don't know much about calling hours or social etiquette in the Victorian era, but from what I could find, he's making a "morning call". Usually a man in this situation should leave after 20 minutes. However, he's family, so I believe this allots for staying a few hours, including dinner (again, correct me if I'm wrong -- I tried to find sources for this, but there wasn't much available for a morning call from family). Does it seem interesting how eager it is how "pleased" he is by everything just after he thought about how poor the family is? Yep! But we don't have time to unpack all of that just yet.

"'Now, please, just stop here for a minute or two,' said Margaret. 'These are the cottages that haunted me so during the rainy fortnight, reproaching me for not having sketched them.' 'Before they tumbled down and were no more seen. Truly, if they are to be sketched—and they are very picturesque—we had better not put it off till next year. But where shall we sit?' 'Oh! You might have come straight from chambers in the Temple, instead of having been two months in the Highlands! Look at this beautiful trunk of a tree, which the woodcutters have left just in the right place for the light. I will put my plaid over it, and it will be a regular forest throne.' 'With your feet in that puddle for a regal footstool! Stay, I will move, and then you can come nearer this way. Who lives in these cottages?'”

I feel like this conversation parallels their awkward interaction from chapter one, though now the shoe is on the other foot. And by "shoe", I mean the whole "shutting down the conversation" thing. To be fair, this is probably Henry joking and being lighthearted, but again -- I'm having trouble reading it that way. She's trying to sketch two cottages that she thinks are pretty, but he's kind of mocking them for how decrepit they look. Fair, I guess, but the fact that she chooses to mock him by saying he's "come staight from chambers in the Temple" (which I believe is a reference to the Temple in Jerusalem and to me, signals she's mocking his loftiness) says she's not entirely happy with this either. Plus, yeah, he just spent time in the Highlands, shouldn't he be used to forest by now? And when she wants to make a "throne" out of a tree stump, he comments on the puddle on the ground. Chivalrous to ask her to get out of the way, but he's not playing along with her game of pretend like he seemed to want her to in chapter 1. I wonder what's up with that? Or maybe I'm reading this all wrong and they're both enjoying this banter -- I don't know, it's really hard for me to tell!! Keep in mind, I'm biased and don't really like Henry, so everything he says annoys me. It's a problem I'll try to work on 😂😂

She goes to talk to one of the men at the cottages, and Henry quickly takes his opportunity to add her to his sketch. Afterwards, she notices and comments on it. He replies:

“'It was irresistible. You can’t know how strong a temptation it was. I hardly dare tell you how much I shall like this sketch.' He was not quite sure whether she heard this latter sentence before she went to the brook to wash her palette. She came back rather flushed, but looking perfectly innocent and unconscious. He was glad of it, for the speech had slipped from him unawares—a rare thing in the case of a man who premeditated his actions so much as Henry Lennox."

I will admit, this is rather cute: him taking the opportunity to sketch her and then saying something without thought! It's a sweet moment and I think I would like the two of them together if they had more moments like this.

When they return back, both Mr. and Mrs. Hale are in much better spirits. Margaret sees her father and while she stresses that he's put aside his worries (they're not taken care of), she can't hide her pride at seeing him because he's always able to impress other people! What a sweetheart, love her for that.

Mr. Hale sees their sketches and when Mr. Hale sees the one Henry drew, Henry comments this:

“'I should say that a likeness you very much wish to take you would always succeed in,' said Mr. Lennox. 'I have great faith in the power of will. I think myself I have succeeded pretty well in yours.'”

I may not read social cues well, but this one I do get: I like you and want to draw you well. However, I know that because I've picked up on it after seeing Henry's inner thoughts. I'm not so surprised she doesn't get it because, as we'll see later in the chapter, she doesn't see him that way. So this compliment -- while nice -- wouldn't mean to her what he's trying to communicate. Why is this important for me to emphasize? Well, listen to what this guy says next:

“"A regular London girl would understand the implied meaning of that speech,' thought Mr. Lennox. 'She would be up to looking through every speech that a young man made her for the arrière-pensée of a compliment. But I don’t believe Margaret,'"

Lol, lmao even. HENRY, buddy, we've been over this -- you should know her better than this by now. I'm not trying to pull a "she's not like other girls" thing, but you started it. She doesn't have the same communication style as the "regular London girl[s]" you're thinking of! If you want to communicate something, you're going to have to be more blunt.

Also, if we continue with my thread of Margaret being neurodivergent-coded (and Henry being neurotypical-coded), this comment is something a lot of NTs often get frustrated by: that NDs don't pick up on the nuances of their interactions. This comment right here really cements this dynamic for me.

To me, it’s understandable she wouldn't pick up on this being flirting because it's subtle to begin with and ND people often have trouble picking up on social cues like this. I do find it interesting how he also expects her to be picking apart his speeches for compliments. Also "arrière-pensée" means "a concealed thought" or "ulterior motive", by the way!

Quick note: the quote is cut off deliberately like that for a reason, he doesn't finish his thought.

Luckily (or unluckily, depending on your view), he decides to try a different tactic. She has been gathering roses to "adorn her morning gown for dinner" and he takes this opportunity to help her with some she can't reach (relatable!) and puts a couple in his button-hole. While this isn't exactly a declaration of love, I do think this is another sweet moment. This could almost be a better show of affection than words for some.

Dinner is a very nice affair, with everyone talking very agreeably, enough so to make Henry forget his feeling of "disappointment" of Margaret's living being so small. Like she had told him. Ugh.

However, there comes a bit of a hitch when dessert comes around. Mr. Hale becomes fixated on the idea of dessert -- which must be pears from the garden. However, they already have dessert served behind him: biscuits with marmalade. Mrs. Hale worries that this pear idea will make their life seem "impromptu" and dessert "unusual" (which will not shine a good light on their living situation, I imagine).

Henry actually steps up with a solution this time: they should eat pears in the garden in order to give them the full experience. Though Mrs. Hale doesn't quite like this idea (she wants to end dinner the ceremonious way), Mr. Hale doesn't give her time to argue: he simply gets up. This shows me that Mr. Hale is probably still not in the best of moods, and likely put out with her as well for what she said in the morning. Either that, or he's so absorbed by his own worries that he isn't thinking of hers. Eep, not good.

So Mr. Hale, Henry and Margaret go out into the garden to enjoy some pears. While Mr. Hale grabs the ripest pear (to get over his anxieties -- relatable), Henry makes eyes at Margaret 👁️👁️. He then takes her to stroll while Mr. Hale sits on the garden bench. Oh no! What can this mean? Well, for Margaret, she just thinks this is a friendly chat. Hmm....

He immediately starts by idealizing her country life and scorning his "city life" (comparing himself to a Cockney), ending with insinuating he would want to live here as his "reward" for all of his hard lawyer work.

She replies by shutting down the fantasy (lol), that the beauty he sees isn't always there and besides, didn't he mock her village before and call it out of a tale? Once she makes it clear she saw it as disrespectful, he "warmly" states he'll never do it again.

I do like that she's comfortable enough with him to feel able to tell him she felt disrespected by his words: that's a good sign, at least. And while he doesn't exactly apologize, he does back down once he realizes this was genuinely negative to her. Gotta take our wins where we can!

""I could almost wish, Margaret——' he stopped and hesitated. It was so unusual for the fluent lawyer to hesitate that Margaret looked up at him, in a little state of questioning wonder; but in an instant—from what about him she could not tell—she wished herself back with her mother—her father—anywhere away from him, for she was sure he was going to say something to which she should not know what to reply. In another moment the strong pride that was in her came to conquer her sudden agitation, which she hoped he had not perceived. Of course she could answer, and answer the right thing; and it was poor and despicable of her to shrink from hearing any speech, as if she had not power to put an end to it with her high maidenly dignity."

I love this passage for so many reasons. For one thing, it has that relatable feeling one gets when you have that one guy friend who hits you with the "I have to tell you something..." and even when you don't know what they're going to say, you also know what's happening...

But I love that she has that scared moment and then she's like -- wait a minute? This is me -- Margaret Hale -- we're talking about and I will say what I want and it will be right because I make it so. I will not shrink from any speech coming my way and if I have to, will put an end to it with my high 👏 maidenly 👏 dignity 👏 . What an ABSOLUTE QUEEN FOR THAT!!!!! I aspire to be like her; why wasn't I told what an absolute girl boss of a role model this fictional character was? And I don't just mean like before I read this (I was given some notice), I mean like why isn't she given more love in pop culture just for this passage alone? (I could speculate why, but I don't want to get sad about that lol). If I didn't already love her, this right here would've made me love her. This passage is definitely something I will be remembering when I feel anxious about difficult conversations! Just, WOW, chef's kiss.

Forgive me, it's going to be a lot of passages from here on out, but I really want to analyze the exact wording here.

"'Margaret,' said he, taking her by surprise, and getting sudden possession of her hand, so that she was forced to stand still and listen, despising herself for the fluttering at her heart all the time; 'Margaret, I wish you did not like Helstone so much—did not seem so perfectly calm and happy here. I have been hoping for these three months past to find you regretting London—and London friends, a little—enough to make you listen more kindly' (for she was quietly, but firmly, striving to extricate her hand from his grasp) 'to one who has not much to offer, it is true—nothing but prospects in the future—but who does love you, Margaret, almost in spite of himself. Margaret, have I startled you too much? Speak!' For he saw her lips quivering almost as if she were going to cry."

Okaaaaaay, that escalated VERY quickly -- Margaret didn't even get time to put a stop to it!!! I can't blame her, he's not giving her the chance to speak. So, the fact that he grabs her hand so she's "forced to stand still and listen"? Yikes. Her heart is "fluttering" and she hates herself for it? Also yikes because I doubt it's fluttering from liking him. I could be wrong, but I'm like 99.9% sure her heart is like that out of nerves.

Not to mention his speech: Henry starts off by being upset she likes Helstone and seems happy there -- you know, the place where her parents are??? Her hometown???? The place he just yapped on and on about being the best place ever and seemed like a reward to him? What happened to that? Swift 180 turn to me. Oh, and let's not forget he doesn't like seeing her calm and happy -- uhhhh...ok?

Now I know what he's trying to say here: he doesn't like seeing her happy here in Helstone because he wants her to be so miserable that she'll want to come back to London (and be with him). If she's miserable, it'll show she cares for him. Here's the problems I have with that logic:

Who's to say she doesn't miss her friends and she's just hiding it? Some people are better at hiding their grief than others.

Margaret is a very "live in the present" type of person; it's not that she doesn't miss Harley Street, but tends to just kind of live in the moment. Him not realizing that -- or wanting her to be miserable despite knowing that -- shows that he probably doesn't know her or care for her as much as he says he does a couple of sentences later.

She hasn't lived with her parents for years and spent most of her childhood without them being a large part of her life (I'm assuming from the limited text we have). Why doesn't she have the right to be calm and happy while living with them? It's pretty understandable she would be more happy with them because if anything *they're* the ones she was probably "more miserable" without. I'm sure she was fine at Harley Street, but she really seems to love her parents and her first night at Harley Street as a child seemed difficult: I'm not surprised she's happy at Helstone! This guy has some audacity to be like "aren't you miserable without me though 🥺" when like -- SHE'S VISITING HER PARENTS???!!?!?! It's been three months, calm down dude.

Let's imagine a world where Henry's completely right (a world I'm glad we don't live in, personally) and she's totally miserable because -- oh, Henry's not at Helstone 🥺💔. Even so, when you visit your friends/crush/whatever that you've missed and you haven't seen for a while, do you act miserable and talk constantly about how much you miss them? I mean, I don't! I usually try to keep up appearances if I am sad, but I actually almost always brighten up around the person I'm with because they make my day better. I get excited and in my element; to the outside person, you'd never know I'd be totally upset when they left because that's how happy I am! Of course, I'd say I miss them or whatever, but I wouldn't make a scene like he seems to want her to.

Going off of that, if you truly cared for someone, wouldn't you want them to be happy? Like he tells her he loves her but starts off his whole speech before he gets to that point with "I wish you were less happy and more miserable because that means you'd miss me and give me a chance" and that's...I don't even know what to say to that. I didn't think you could get worse than Mr. Collins or Mr. Darcy's failed proposals, but I think that beats it. In Mr. Collins's case, at least he starts off with compliments (though they're backhanded and he doesn't really mean them, lol) and at least with Mr. Darcy, he starts off with "I love you" and lists the reasons before he starts insulting her family!!! I guess it's a "pick your poison" thing, but seriously, what a way to start off a love confession speech/proposal.

Then -- and this is what really gets me here -- he notices her trying to get him to release her arm: another sign she's not enjoying this. Now, she's doing this in a quiet but firm way, not wanting to make a scene -- but not backing down, either. Instead of doing the decent person thing and letting her hand go, he keeps his grip and tells her to listen more "kindly". He takes this as yet another sign she didn't "miss him enough" and WOW. Um...I don't have much to say to this; I think it speaks for itself. I will say, everytime I read it I'm filled with an immeasurable amount of rage, if that tells you anything.

He also ends his very touching and heartfelt speech (/s) with saying that he loves her "almost in spite of himself". Aaaaand we're back to Mr. Darcy with his whole "yeah your family is below me and an insult to the human race and I actually wish I could stop thinking about you but in spite of all of that I love you whoops". I think he means this in more of a "I'm not a feelings person, so for me to be in love with you is a big deal" (we'll get to that speech of his soon), but it still comes across wrong to me. If you're going to say that, please clarify what you mean!!!

And THEN -- as if that's not bad enough -- he sees her lips quivering as if she's going to cry and after asking if she's startled (not the emotion I'd be asking after, but ok), he commands her to speak. As someone who gets overwhelmed easily, I would actually hate someone doing that to me!

And if we continue the thread of Margaret being ND, what if she's not able to speak because she's too overstimulated from whatever the heck that just was? I know she just hyped herself up -- and that's amazing, don't get me wrong -- but it could very well be difficult for her to communicate using spoken language and the fact that he wants her to speak right now is a bit reminiscent of how NTs will often force NDs to "act neurotypical" in difficult situations (e.g. "make eye contact, speak on this" etc.) and it's heartbreaking to read using this lens.

Even if we don't read it in that vein, who sees someone about to cry and goes "Speak!"? Get a grip, man.

"She made a strong effort to be calm; she would not speak till she had succeeded in mastering her voice, and then she said: 'I was startled. I did not know that you cared for me in that way. I have always thought of you as a friend; and, please, I would rather go on thinking of you so. I don’t like to be spoken to as you have been doing. I cannot answer you as you want me to do, and yet I should feel so sorry if I vexed you.'”

I feel for her here: I’m glad she takes a moment to be calm, but I imagine it must cost a lot of emotional effort to do so. If I were in her shoes, I don’t even know if I could manage it!

Also, her speech itself is a masteclass in kind — but firm — rejection, in my opinion. Notice how she answers his last question first: that yes, she was startled. That is easiest to answer, so she focuses on it. Then, she expounds on it by letting him know she wasn’t aware of his deep feelings, which caused her to be startled.

That’s when the boundary-setting starts! She sets two of them: in order to “keep thinking of him as a friend”, he will need to discontinue his advances and then she states she doesn’t like the way he has been speaking to her — aka, all of the ways he just offended her in that last paragraph? Stop it immediately.

She ends it by affirming that she cannot give him the answers he desires, but does not want to “vex” him. Just to be sure I was reading her meaning correctly, I looked up the meaning of vexed:

“to bring trouble, distress, or agitation to”

So, she’s worried about troubling him. Yes, distress is in there too, but I think it’s interesting she uses that word to describe how he will take her not returning his feelings. Historically, women do have to worry about how men will react to them not returning feelings -- sometimes to an extreme degree -- and it can feel as if it’s more of a case of them being troubled/agitated rather than distressed. I can’t speak for everyone of course, but it sucks that women have to feel so responsible for men’s happiness to the point of saying “sorry for the trouble” if the feelings aren’t returned! (And yes, I know this issue can happen regardless of gender, but I’m focusing on this dynamic since that’s how it appears here.)

So, how does Henry react? Does he reassure her that he isn’t entitled to her feelings? Asks for space to deal with his own emotions, perhaps? Nope!

“‘Margaret,’ said he, looking into her eyes, which met his with their open, straight look, expressive of the utmost good faith and reluctance to give pain, ‘Do you’—he was going to say—‘love any one else?’ But it seemed as if this question would be an insult to the pure serenity of those eyes. ‘Forgive me! I have been too abrupt. I am punished. Only let me hope. Give me the poor comfort of telling me you have never seen any one whom you could——‘ Again a pause. He could not end his sentence. Margaret reproached herself acutely as the cause of his distress.’”

It’s interesting to me that Henry decides not to ask if she loves anyone else because he doesn’t want to insult “pure serenity” of her eyes. Some may call this nice, I call this asking for a punch in the face. It rides a bit too close to the “purity culture” line for me and I don’t like it. It seems as if Henry thinks she has too much good faith to ever be “unfaithful” to him by even entertaining the thought of someone else. Perhaps I’m wrong, but this is how it reads to me.

Then he asks for forgiveness and says he’s been too abrupt (ok, good start) but says he’s punished. Punished how? Punished for what? If you mean she’s punishing you for speaking to her a certain way by not returning feelings — just NO. That’s not what’s happening here!!!! She doesn’t return your feelings because she doesn’t like you, just accept it.

That’s when Henry really drops the hammer of “can you give me hope and return my feelings one day 🥺” which — oh, boy. On one hand, I can feel for him here, but it’s strange to me that he also wants her to promise that she’s never seen anyone that has caught her fancy. It’s a very “if I can’t have you, no one can” mentality. It even causes Margaret to get mad at herself for “causing” him to be so upset — which, again, he is not entitled to her feelings and she is not responsible for his happiness.

“‘Ah! if you had but never got this fancy into your head! It was such a pleasure to think of you as a friend.’

‘But I may hope, may I not, Margaret, that some time you will think of me as a lover? Not yet, I see—there is no hurry—but some time——‘

She was silent for a minute or two, trying to discover the truth as it was in her own heart, before replying, then she said:

‘I have never thought of—you, but as a friend. I like to think of you so; but I am sure I could never think of you as anything else. Pray let us both forget that all this” (“disagreeable,” she was going to say, but stopped short) ‘conversation has taken place.’”

Ok, so I’m going to take Henry’s side for just a second on this — hear me out. I think it’s a little mean for her to call his feelings just a “fancy” as if he thought of it one day and, on a lark, decided to confess his feelings. I don’t think that’s fair of her to say to him. You can’t help your feelings and it’s not entirely fair of her to expect him to keep it bottled up inside. While his confession speech has been pretty abysmal (sorry it’s true), I don’t blame him for having those feelings, just the way they’re expressed.

On the other hand, I’ve been in Margaret's exact same situation and have almost wanted to say the exact same thing! Like “we had such a good thing going and this came out of nowhere; what’s up with that?” I didn’t though, because I realize that’s kind of invalidating to hear. I also think that’s her being blunt and not filtering her thoughts, which is understandable given the heightened emotions (and even more so, if we read it in the lens of her being ND).

Henry insists on the point of her being able to love him romantically sometime in the future, to which she has to think about. I’m glad she actually takes the time to examine her own feelings before answering. She already knows the answer, but it’s good to be sure and honestly give it some thought.

That’s when she drops a hammer of her own: she has only thought of him as a friend, does so now, and is certain she can only do so in the future. She also wants to set this conversation behind them — almost calling it disagreeable in the process. She stops herself short, but I believe she makes a face or something in her demeanor registers it as such, because Henry picks up on it. Again, she’s being blunt, but this time she’s able to catch herself and spare his feelings a little.

“He paused before he replied. Then, in his habitual coldness of tone, he answered:

‘Of course, as your feelings are so decided, and as this conversation has been so evidently unpleasant to you, it had better not be remembered. That is all very fine in theory, that plan of forgetting whatever is painful, but it will be somewhat difficult for me, at least, to carry it into execution.’”

It’s telling that he becomes cold once he realizes she’s serious about staying friends forever. It’s sad that this 180 degree turn from Henry is still so relatable in today’s age! He does agree to her wishes, albeit reluctantly due to it being difficult for him. This I can understand; once you confess your feelings for someone and are subsequently rejected, it's a bit hard to just "forget" the entire conversation and go back to normal. Unfortunately, that's the consequence you have to face if you're going to confess to your friend like that; I think he was just so confident she'd return his feelings, he assumed this wouldn't happen.

“'You are vexed,' said she, sadly; “yet how can I help it?' She looked so truly grieved as she said this, that he struggled for a moment with his real disappointment, and then answered more cheerfully, but still with a little hardness in his tone: 'You should make allowances for the mortification, not only of a lover, Margaret, but of a man not given to romance in general—prudent, worldly, as some people call me—who has been carried out of his usual habits by the force of a passion—well, we will say no more of that; but in the one outlet which he has formed for the deeper and better feelings of his nature, he meets with rejection and repulse. I shall have to console myself with scorning my own folly. A struggling barrister to think of matrimony!'”

Her grief does cause him to realize that he needs to stop making her feel bad about this -- or, at least, broadcast a facade of good cheer -- if they're going to have any hope of keeping the friendship. After all, they're still in Helstone's garden with Margaret's dad not too far off!!!

However, he's not able to cover up his "disappointment" entirely and it shows as "hardness in his tone". He doesn't apologize for giving her grief, but instead asks her to make "allowances" for him. I don't like this for a lot of reasons (why does she have to make allowances for you when you don't seem to give the same respect back?), but what's even worse is that he says one of those allowances should be "for the mortification...of a lover..." UM??? If I’m reading this right, he wants her to allow for him feeling like he was her lover and now having to deal with her rejection of romance. Henry, let me break it down for you: you were never her lover -- ever. If you felt like her lover, that is your issue, not hers, to deal with. The fact that you're admitting that aloud is appalling and the fact you want her to allow for that problem is even worse. It’s almost like he kept up a pretense of friendship and all the while imagining they were lovers. That’s so weird!!! And again, remains relatable (unfortunately).

The other allowance, which I mentioned earlier, is that he’s not a big “feelings” person and since he got carried away by his passions, she should understand why he feels crushed that the one time he’s swept off his feet by romance, the feelings are not returned. I hate to tell you, Henry, but just because you’re more “worldly” than the rest of us doesn’t mean you’re going to get a girlfriend faster: just a pro tip!

Both of these allowances are quite silly, in my opinion. Yeah, so you have a crush for the first time and you thought of her as your girlfriend and the feelings weren’t mutual. What is she supposed to do, give you a cookie? I’m being facetious, of course, I know what he’s actually hoping is for her to change her mind and be like “I had no idea I was your first crush 🥺 wow, since I’m so special to you, of course I’ll court you!!! 😍❤️” which — ugh. I want to say he doesn’t understand how women work, but I’m hard-pressed to see how this would work on anyone!! Maybe in his head it would work on one of those “regular London girls” (which I’m beginning to think is just a made up notion in his head of women anyway), but I’ve said that Margaret is not one of those women (if they do exist) and never will be. The fact that he thinks he can make her be one or she will become one in time is concerning: what would he be like if they did court? Would she be expected to change for him? Or even if he does like her as is, would she be expected to “act differently” in front of his friends and other relatives? Again, reading this in a NT/ND lens really adds another layer of meaning to how this would affect Margaret’s mental health in the long term.

He ends this by saying he’ll have to “console himself by scorning his own folly” and scoffing at the idea of a struggling man in his job thinking of marriage. First of all, she has literally said nothing about your profession — you brought that up briefly before in your confession (I didn’t mention it because I didn’t have anything to say on it) — but she never said “I’m not going to court you because you’re a lawyer struggling to make ends meet”. Of course, you’re going to think that because it’s easier to think of her as shallow (only after men for their current money) and the “problem” as something you can fix (he can fix a money issue, can’t fix her thoughts of him being a friend), but really: how in denial can you be?

Secondly, this is the first time he’s brought up marriage. Of course, in the Victorian age that’s where courtships were supposed to lead, but still. It’s interesting that he waited until now to drop that last bit in; it almost seems like a last-ditch lament to be like “woe is me! How could I think anyone would ever marry me 🥺💔” which would pull at the heartstrings. Of course, I’m likely reading too much into this because I’m reading it in the tone of him doing anything to try to get her to court/marry him, even using manipulation and guilt tactics to do so. Is it likely he’s just upset and saying whatever comes to mind? Sure. But some people will do anything to get their way and so far he hasn’t shown himself to be very graceful in dealing with rejection.

“Margaret could not answer this. The whole tone of it annoyed her. It seemed to touch on and call out all the points of difference which had often repelled her in him; while yet he was the pleasantest man, the most sympathising friend, the person of all others who understood her best in Harley Street. She felt a tinge of contempt mingle itself with her pain at having refused him. Her beautiful lip curled in a slight disdain.”

I suppose I’m not the only one getting bad vibes from this last speech. Margaret sees the worst parts of him — the little things that had always bothered her about him — and while she still feels bad about hurting him, she can’t help but visibly show “disdain” for the way he’s talking to her now.

Suddenly, they come upon Mr. Hale and Margaret feels as if she's had an out-of-body experience, comparing it to an Eastern tale of a king who went through an experience of a lifetime just by dipping his head in a magical basin of water. In other words, she is not the same as she was when she last saw her father!

Of course, due to the amount of emotions with everything that has just taken place, she is quite unable to speak and lets Henry and her father do most of the talking. Henry notices her quiet and morose look and:

“"I am not so indifferent to her as she believes,' thought he to himself. 'I do not give up hope."”

Oh...oh no. Henry, literally just accept the no. She told you no -- JUST ACCEPT THE -- ok, I need to calm down. This man is fictional. The problem is there are men -- nay, people -- who think like this. Who will hear a "no" and then see the person's face and have such a cognitive dissonance IN THEIR BRAIN that they're like "nah, they actually totally want me, THEY just can't see the truth yet." As if they know better.

It's really hilarious Henry thinks he knows Margaret's thoughts and feelings better than *she* does considering he doesn't even know how to talk to her without her shutting him down because he accidentally disrespected her small town (rhyme not intended but a pleasant surprise). How does he think a relationship with a foundation like that? I realize they are good friends and get along in other ways, but it is sooooo telling to me that the *second* he flirts, she either becomes uncomfortable or straight up doesn't get it (or pretends not to, depending on how you read it). How could they be married like that??

So yeah, unfortunately, Margaret is not even allowed to look sad without Henry jumping on the chance that she'll want him someday. I'm almost 100% sure this would've happened regardless of the facial expression she had. Happy (from trying to keep up a cheerful facade)? "Oh, she's actually super happy I confessed my feelings and will love me soon, just watch." Mad? "She's actually mad at herself for refusing me." Confused? "She doesn't know what she wants, she'll choose me eventually." That's just the kind of person we're dealing with here.

"Before a quarter of an hour was over, he had fallen into a way of conversing with quiet sarcasm; speaking of life in London and life in the country, as if he were conscious of his second mocking self, and afraid of his own satire."

Ok, so this passage is really hard to decipher for me and I might need some help figuring ot out! From what I'm able to gather, he's mainly mocking both the country and London, but maybe in also a self-depricating way as well (this is the main part I'm stuck on)? What I do understand is why he's doing this; Henry is a man who's default is to mock and be sarcastic. It's his coping mechanism for when things get too "real". We haven't seen him be as such yet because he hasn't needed to be around Margaret. However, now that he's been thrown off by her rejection, his way of dealing with it is to slip back into empty sarcasm.

Mr. Hale notices this change and is quite put off by it, even being relieved when he has to leave. He notes the change from the "lighter, clever, more worldly man" he saw earlier and at the wedding breakfast. It's interesting how a lot of people tend to use sarcasm to seem more clever and worldy, but Gaskell sees through this and contrasts them as opposites in this chapter! What a callout! She's so real for that.

At the last moment, Henry Lennox’s real self broke through the crust. “Margaret, don’t despise me; I have a heart, notwithstanding all this good-for-nothing way of talking. As a proof of it, I believe I love you more than ever—if I do not hate you—for the disdain with which you have listened to me during this last half-hour. Good-bye, Margaret—Margaret!”

First of all, describing the weird sarcasm thing he was doing as a "crust" is funny and interesting to me -- I didn't know that could mean "harsh" or "surly": the more you know! Secondly, love that he calls out his own coping mechanism while still having done it -- progress, I guess? And third -- best of all -- Henry, my guy, my dude, why on earth would you tell her you love her while also saying you might hate her because she hasn't been happy with you for the past 30 minutes???? I am truly baffled. Has this man ever wooed a woman in his life? For the sake of the female population, I truly hope not because if THIS is how he does it -- YIKES!!!! Luckily, he probably hasn't considering his whole "i'M a lAwYeR wHo dOeSnT hAvE bIg rOmAnCe fEeLiNgS" speech.

And that's the way the chapter ends, so I'll end with a couple of points I want to make clear.

I know I've been super hard on Henry and -- to be fair -- I think he's deserved some of it. But I don't think he's a bad person. So far, Gaskell has written all of her characters with a complexity and depth that shows you're supposed to root for these characters (more or less), while also understanding their flaws. There were times I pointed out when Margaret wasn't at her best either; while she isn't entitled to return Henry's feelings, she was sort of trivializing them and I wouldn't like that either. I think the problem with Henry is that he's used to getting what he wants and when he doesn't get it, he gets upset and lashes out the way he did with Margaret. I do honestly think he needs to work on himself and not think of romance right now because it sounds like he has deeper problems going on; if Margaret's rejection causes him to act like this, it's not just her rejection that's bothering him. I noticed that he talked about how he's currently struggling in his job and I think that can also account for him getting upset -- perhaps he had hoped for this to be a "good thing" to focus on instead of his work that isn't going well. I'm glad Margaret didn't return his feelings in that case because having one person the sole source of your happiness is never healthy and running away from your problems won't fix them! So yes, while I'm hard on him I do still think he has good moments and can be better: we're just seeing him at his worst. Still, that doesn't excuse his behavior, just explains it.

I also want to clarify for those who think I'm being too harsh on Henry and am doing so because I "don't understand what it's like to be rejected romantically". As a quick personal aside: I've been on his side of a romantic confession and was also rejected by someone who was my friend. And it hurt -- badly. Especially because there were many "signs" I read too much into as romantic (flirting, holding hands, etc.) so said rejection was not what I saw coming, much like Henry. However, when I realized that this person only saw me as a friend and wanted to keep it that way, I immediately told them "ok, I understand" and then took some time to myself to sort through my feelings. These were mainly embarrasment, shame, sorrow, and anger -- not at the person, but at myself for potentially ruining the friendship over this.

My main problem with Henry is that he reacts to Margaret's rejection with disappointment, anger, frustration, and hurt. These don't seem like the kind of emotions that come with an unselfish love, I hate to say it. I know there is likely more feelings bubbling beneath the surface, but if he's going to react that way and realizes he's hurting her in the process (which he does), he should ask for space while he sorts himself out. I get that wasn't "the thing" back then so I guess it's a bit harder for me to say "oh, Henry should've just left!" when no, he can't just abruptly leave like that and "oh, Henry should just work on his mental health" when that was very much not talked of. I'm just trying to think of ways he could've better handled this situation; he can't help his feelings, but he can help how he acts on those feelings. And it's not fair to Margaret to continually pressure her into a relationship she so obviously does not want. Additionally, the way he makes his confession/proposal frustrates me too because he mainly makes it about himself and his feelings. He wishes she wasn't happy at Helstone, he loves her, he's not a romantic person so it's a big deal for him. I mean, he doesn't even talk about her good qualities or what he likes about her: even Mr. "and what excellent boiled potatoes" Collins did that!!!!!

As a final note, if you're reading Dracula Daily at the same time as North and South Weekly, you may have noticed a few parallels between this failed proposal and Jack Seward's failed proposal. I want to dive into them and why I respect Seward's more than Lennox's, but I don't want to do it here because this post might be my longest to date and I'd rather make it a separate post anyway!

So yeah, another great chapter, excited to see what happens next week!

[manyunhappygreenies]

I agree with the tier list but I'm curious why idw and 2007 are on the bottom half and not like 2012 splinter? Or even rise they were both pretty bad fathers

I'll answer rise and 2012 first because 2007 and idw fuel me with so much anger.

DISCLAIMER: I love Rise Splinter and 12 Splinter but they are not without flaws!!!!!

Trigger warnings will be in tags please adhere to them!

[Rise Splinter Start]

I put rise splinter in "you're okay" tier because Hamato Yoshi (will be calling rise splinter "Lou" from now on for context) did his very best and tried to make the very best out of a terrible situation.

He had lost his mother at a very young age and dealt with an emotionally neglectful grandfather who had only cared about a Hamato's duty to their clan up to his late teens into adulthood. [This undermines Karai's sacrifice in the first place. As she had sacrificed herself out of love for the world around her and the love of her father. Not because of a sense of duty.]

Lou moves to America in order to separate himself from his trauma, never addressing it but rather repressing it. In hopes he can move on and start a new life, which he fully intended when he proposed to Big Mama. [Though it's never spoken directly or stated directly in the show, it's implied Splinter was ready to even have a family with her because he loved her so much]

This is quickly torn to shreds when Big Mama reveals she's a Yokai crime boss [essentially] and human traffic [yes. HUMAN TRAFFICS] Lou to New York to become a champion in her Battle Nexus. While in the beginning of the show it's depreciated as Lou Jitsu loved being a Nexus champion we quickly learned in "Many Unhappy Returns" he in fact did not relish being a champion and was clearly traumatized by Big Mama's actions.

> Enter Baron Draxum

Lou is human trafficked once again and this time is experimented on, his DNA used to create turtle super soldiers that will be trained and raised to murder humans. [This show is super fucked up now that I think about it.]

And after completely destroying Draxum's lab, being freshly mutated into a rat man. Stripped of his humanity, he now has 4 turtle sons dropped into his lap.

TLDR: Rise Splinter did the very best he could in a terrible situation and struggled to overcome his own generational trauma. His actions are explained, not excused. He needs therapy, his sons needs therapy. He needs to make up for his neglectful behavior [which we do see towards the end of season 1 and into season 2] and understand his children are in no way shape or form obligated to forgive him.

[End of Rise Splinter]

[Start of 2012 Splinter]

My reasoning for putting 2012 Splinter in "Seek therapy before having kids" tier is because Hamato Yoshi [will just be calling him Yoshi for context] has been a parent before, while brief and tragically separated from his child for many years, on top of losing his wife.

Yoshi did as I would feel did the best he could but could have definitely done better. He's freshly traumatized, well into his 30s, maybe early 40s [?] And moves to America from Japan. [Clearly he needs therapy]

Yoshi clearly was not expecting to be a parent again, so soon after losing his only daughter. [perceived]

He loves his children, though he more often than not struggles to actually connect with them and see them as his sons rather than just clan members. I would consider this emotionally neglectful [?]

I personally always headcanoned this as a trauma response. A subconscious way to protect himself from the hurt of losing another child. And it's clear that Yoshi's trauma over losing miwa has manifested for his sons as well, as we see in the episode "Panic in the Sewers" one of the first episodes we actually see Yoshi PUT HIS HANDS ON HIS SON outside of training. And it's very clear that he was in fact hurting Raph. [Intentional or not. He still hurt his son.]

He loves his sons very much. But please. Get therapy.

[End of 2012 Splinter.]

Cracks Knuckles

[Start IDW Splinter.]

FUCK THIS STUPID ASS RAT I HATE HIM SO FUCKING MUCH. ESPECIALLY ESPECIALLY AFTER THE EVENTS OF CITY FALL.

YOUR SON IS CLEARLY TRAUMATIZED BY NOT JUST OROKU SAKI BUT YOU, HE IS AFRAID OF YOU ANGRY AT YOU AND DESPITE YOU KNOWING THIS YOU STILL CHOOSE TO INVADE HIS SPACE, PRIVACY AND COMFORT ZONE. FUCK YOU!

That being said the entire Trauma and storyline with IDW Leo being brainwashed was handled poorly and clearly written from a stigmatized view. I'm not surprised that his recovery was handled just as poorly.

[End of IDW Splinter]

[Start of 2007 Splinter]

Fuck you. You literally look like the cheetah from Cheetos you nasty, emotionally and physically neglectful fuck!!!

The only time you EVER paid attention to your sons was when Leo came home. 2 YEARS AFTER YOU SENT HIM TO CENTRAL AMERICA.

You did NOT care about Raphael's feelings about Leo's departure or return, nor the abandonment issues he had developed and the resentment that he had for you and his older brother.

You did NOT care that Donnie had to pick up the slack and pay bills so YOUR CRUSTY CHEETO LOOKING ASS COULD WATCH THE NEWS AND YELL "BOYS" WHEN LEO CAME HOME AND THEY CONVENIENTLY WENT OUT TO FIGHT CRIME

I DON'T THINK YOU EVEN ACKNOWLEDGED MIKEY UNTIL THE END OF THE MOVIE AFTER LEO WAS SAVED

TLDR: FUCK 2007 SPLINTER.

[foxy-aac]

Foxy AAC case supposed come today, excited

Foxy mother brought Foxy her tablet for use for AAC - she not use it and give to Foxy

Foxy use phone for AAC with her during dinner, was happy not judge Foxy

Usually 50/50 whether Foxy mother accept Foxy disability or judge Foxy for it, was very happy was accept Foxy

Still need finish set up tablet, but happy

Hopes case do well, can bring-use easier

Foxy mother know Foxy psychotic, is why need speak help

Grateful she trying to accommodate, even if not always do right

Text :

DNI anti-endo/sysmeds, radqueer/transID, queerphobes, ableism, saneism, hostility

[dc-said-bi-robin-rights]

The first floor window of the Ranger HQ explodes outwards as Steel crashes through it, plummeting several feet in the air before hitting the ground, rolling, his armored fingers carving a line into the tarmac as he digs them into the ground to halt his momentum and rises to his feet. Above him, Blindspot walks forward calmly, his cape billowing behind him in the cold December wind as he looks down on his fallen enemy from the window ledge. He can feel the power rushing through the neon yellow veins of his armored suit as he clenches his fists, the simple action diverting all the excess power that isn’t being channeled into his telepathic boosters straight into his diamond-tipped knuckles. It was Mortum’s latest masterstroke: a strength upgrade that didn’t require any additional power storage. Just the action of curling his fingers into a fist would fill his gauntlets with excess power, power that would then be diverted elsewhere as soon as he uncurled them. He felt a chuckle coming on—he was gonna have to send the good doctor another check. It really was a brilliant workaround.

The roar of rushing air fills his ears, and he looks up to see a helicopter with the LDNW logo hovering overhead. He smirks beneath his helmet, raising a hand up to his eyes as their spotlight switches on, illuminating him in all his glory for their millions of viewers to see.

That was more than fine by him. Let them watch. Let the world watch their heroes be embarrassingly brought low, again and again, until they woke up to the truth that they didn’t protect anybody, least of all them.

He walks off the ledge and drops down onto the parking lot, shockwaves emanating from the fist he’d smashed against the ground, breaking the windows of all the cars around him and splashing him with glass shards as he rose to his feet. Another gift from Dr. Mortum, one that was as much for the drama and intimidation factor as it was for the usefulness that clearing a room of goons just with his landing represented. Armored as he was, Steel barely felt the shockwaves, of course… but the little trick was a godsend in front of the cameras, and there were few messages that weren’t enhanced by a visible display of power from the one who spoke it. Even now, he could imagine the viewers at home oooing and gasping at his little display. The thought amused him, and he wondered what the Breaking News! headline was saying at this very moment. He hoped it was something scary: an intimidating reputation was as valuable as a dozen fiery speeches, if not more so.

“I don’t want to fight you, Cyrus.” Chen’s voice was serious and stern, and as irritating to his little fantasies as the stubbornly conscious state of the man himself. Even with half his visor torn off and his breastplate dented almost beyond repair, the Marshal of Los Diablos refused to bend or break, even to a man he privately wasn’t sure could even be considered a villain. “You won’t enjoy what happens if you make me.”

“Cyrus Brown died in an ambulance, alone and abandoned.” Blindspot’s voice is a garbled mix of his real voice and the intimidating growls produced by his failing voice moderator. The effect is disturbing, and more than a little offsetting. “Or at least, that’s what you told the others, isn’t it? But you knew better.”

A flash of something indescribable passes over the half of Chen’s face not covered by the ripped visor. “I would take it back if I could.”

“But you can’t,” Blindspot hisses as he walks forward, fists clenching, power filling his hands, his armor’s pulsing veins glowing in the dark between the black plates. His own featureless faceplate was still intact, but visibly glitching, showing more of his snarling face than he was comfortable with. That hadn’t been part of the plan. He was meant to be the coldly gloating one, hiding his emotions behind the stark neon wall that was his faceplate and the echoing nothingness of his voice moderator as he threw out vicious taunts and condemnations. Steel wasn’t supposed to be able to see the savage hatred on his face, and he was especially not supposed to be able to hear the broken fury in his voice. That had always been his problem. He succumbed to anger too easily. “You can’t, can you? You can’t undo what they did to me!”

“I can make it right,” he growls, as close to pleading as he’ll ever get. “I can help you. I can keep you safe from them.”

“No one can keep me safe from them,” he says, taking a steadying breath pulling himself back into neutrality with great difficulty. Not for the first time, he’s glad news’ helicopters don’t typically come with long-range microphones. “Only I can do that.”

“And Ortega?” They’re circling now, watching each other for the slightest sign of weakness. “I know she cares for you. I know she’d believe you can put this behind you, like I do.”

“And let them get away with it?” Blindspot demands, disbelieving. “Let them do it again?! To me!? To others?!” He gave a harsh laugh. “I chose this path for a reason, marshal . Not that I’d expect you to know what that is.”

“A path?”

“A choice,” he corrects, mocking. “The military man, through and through. ‘Yes, sir’, ‘no sir’, ‘how high, sir’? ‘How deep, sir?’ ‘The whole thing or just the tip, sir?’”

Steel meets his eyes for a long moment. “From what I’ve heard, that sounds more like you.”

The next thing he knew, Blindspot was pummeling Steel, frothing with rage. If it had been Steel’s goal to provoke him into a hasty attack, it’d worked too well: his fist crashes into Steel’s broken visor, cracking what remained of his helmet and smashing aside his jaw. Steel stumbles back, but Blindspot gives him no quarter, raising his fists above his head and bringing them crashing down on his shoulders. Steel is forced to his knees, but he still manages to catch Blindspot’s next kick and launch him backwards a few feet into the air.

He lands in a crouched position, teeth gritted behind his glitching faceplate. Okay, lesson learnt. There’s still a pretty sizable strength difference between him and Steel, and he needs to remember that. Fine. Let’s see how he likes a fight on Blindspot’s terms, then.

He plunges his hands into the tarmac, sending his nanovores towards Steel. The ground cracks as they approach him, and though he jumps back, deploying jets all along his lower body to guide his ascent, they follow him up, forming a long ramp that reaches out as if to catch him. Blindspot can see the controlled panic in his eyes as his jump-jets start running out of steam, but he pulls the nanovores back before they can swam over Steel and bring his career as a Ranger to a grisly end by devouring him and his half-cybernetic body alive, letting Steel crash to the ground. The fallen marshal’s heavy armor leaves a small crater in the tarmac, but it’s one he quickly picks himself out of, leveling an unguided wrist-mounted rocket and firing it at Blindspot. The Rat-King chitters out a warning, though it’s unneeded—the pressure on Blindspot’s mind has lessened somewhat, meaning some of Steel’s dampeners had to have been damaged by the fall. His will surges forward, wrapping around Steel’s mind like a set of hands and squeezing. The rocket goes wildly off-course, hitting a nearby car and sending it vaulting into the air in a fireball, the impact doing nothing but kicking up his cape as he advances. The part of Cyrus that was Sidestep registers Steel’s unwillingness to use the more dangerous class of missiles he has mounted on his shoulder somewhere in the back of his mind, but the rest of him is just focused on how sweet it’ll be to make the bastard pay.

“Tell me something, Chen,” Blindspot starts, his voice distorting strangely. “I’m curious. How many mes would it take to make up one Ortega? Ten? Twenty? By what exact percentage is my life less than hers?”

“You’re making this something it wasn’t,” Steel growls, leveling another rocket at him.

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t try it. We know how that goes.”

A pause. “I guess that’s true.” Steel slowly lowers his arm. “What happens now?”

“Now?” He gives a harsh laugh. “Now, we beat the crap out of each other for the cameras. And we don’t stop until one of is dead.”

“I don’t want to do that.”

“Liar,” he says calmly. “You’ve wanted that since the beginning.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you’re my enemy.”

“Do you?” Steel gives Blindspot a meaningful look. “What have I done to make you think that?”

“Left me in the Farm, for one thing.”

“I was trying to protect Ortega.” Another pause. Chen liked his pauses. “I thought you would understand that.”

“Didn’t tell me that you knew, for another.” Now who’s the one with the lists?

“You were dead. Then you were back. What did you want me to say?”

“You could’ve pulled me aside at any moment.” It was hard, to muster the anger from earlier into his voice. Even though he was angry. Even though he was furious. “Explained. Let me know what you had done before I started to get close to you.”

And there it is. The ugly truth.

They’d almost been friends. Now, they never will be.

“I fail to see what that would have accomplished.”

“I…” He let out a long groan of frustration. “It’s useless, with you. Guilty feelings aside, it’s like you don’t even realize you did something wrong.”

“I made a choice. I stand by it.”

“A choice to pick Ortega over me.”

“A choice to pick a living Ortega over a probably dead you.” Steel looks guilty, but not guilty enough to shy away from the truth. That’s something you can give him credit for, at least. “You weren’t a Ranger. There was no other choice I could make.”

“I was part of the team, damn you.” He feels so tired. “You know that. You’ve said that.”

“I do. I have.”

“So why…?” He chokes on his next words. “Forget it. Would you have made a different choice? If I wasn’t a Re-Gene?”

“I… don’t know.” Steel looked troubled by the admission.

“You don’t know,” Blindspot echoes, shaking his head. “I think you do.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You can say it. Either answer will make me hate you.” He wondered what the news chopper made of this conversation, being unable to hear it and yet still seeing him and Steel standing there, talking when they should be fighting. “Either you decided I wasn’t worth the risk because I was a Re-Gene, or you did it because I was inherently worth less than Ortega in your eyes.”

“I told you, I don’t know.”

“I could rip the answers out of your head,” he threatens without any real heat. “Your dampeners are down. You’d have no way of stopping me.”

“Do it, then.” Steel looks about as tired as Blindspot does. “I’m as curious to hear them as you are.”

He almost does.

Almost.

His will surges towards the chopper like a spike, piercing their minds with urgent thoughts of heading home. He waits until they’re out of sight to remove his helmet, exposing his face to the empty parking lot. To Chen.

“I had plans for how today was gonna go, you know.” A slight chuckle. “I was going to walk in, all righteous fury, and take my revenge.”

Chen holds his gaze. “What changed?”

Cyrus laughs, the sound free and pure away from the voice moderator. “What makes you think anything has?”

“You’re not killing me.”

“No.” He leans back, taking a seat on the hood of the nearest car, which groans under the pressure of his heavy armor. It’s a very casual act of criminality, but he doubt Chen is going to lambast him for it under the circumstances. “I guess I’m not.”

There’s a long silence. Chen breaks it first.

“I saw your interview. The one on the bridge.” A slight pause, shorter this time. “I never knew you were into politics.”

“Any system that puts people through what I want is rotten.” He puts the helmet down and lays back, staring up at the stars. “We talked about it, you know.”

“It?”

“The sky,” he clarifies, like it’s not a total non sequitur. “What it looked like. Someone… I can’t remember who… thought it’d be green.”

“Oh.” A hesitant breath. Cyrus can sense Chen’s confusion… but also his interest. “Were you disappointed?”

“With the sky? A bit,” he admits, his eyes still skyward. “Then it got dark. And I saw the stars.” The last word is uttered with an almost dreamlike longing, with the tone of breath one might reserve for speaking about a goddess.

The Farm had taken a lot from Cyrus the second time around. But it could never take away the stars.

“They’re even more beautiful in the country.” Cyrus can sense Chen has no idea why he volunteered that information, but he continues anyway. “Especially overseas.”

“I know. Ortega took me to her ranch. More than once.”

Chen nods, but he doesn’t move from where he is standing. “You know I have to take you in.”

Cyrus sighs. “You don’t. You really don’t.”

“I’m sorry.” Cyrus could hear the stunner being primed, but he didn’t bother sitting up. “But I do.”

“Using my own tech against me?” He chuckled. He’d been wondering where that old toy ended up. “That’s a new low.”

“You were dead. It was a way to honor you. And it did it’s job,” he admits.

“Not well enough,” Cyrus says, before grabbing ahold of Chen’s mind and drowning it as violently as he could. Every thought he’d had in the last four hours, every memory, every possible impression is found and ripped out, violently brutally, viciously, without the slightest hint of mercy or consideration being given for the sanctity of his mind. By the time he is done, Chen is a drooling puddle on the floor, unconscious thrice over. Blindspot barely gives him a second glance as he walks away into the night.

[seaprofound]

poseida, the virgin queen

here’s one major difference between poseida and poseidon: unlike poseidon—who pursued maidens and sowed his seed around because that’s what a king does—poseida was the one who was pursued.

shortly after being crowned queen of the sea, some river gods tried to court her—however, she thought all of their attempts insincere. given how she grew up surrounded by the inhumanly beautiful, unblemished, able-bodied titans, she had long since internalized that she was the Ugly One not only among them but also among her own siblings. so, since she thought that their flirtations a cruel mockery, she rejected them before they could reject her. before they could use her and take her throne for themselves.

you fool. they're not suitors—they're conspirators. they don't want you—they want your throne. your crown. your power. they would take it all away if they had half the chance. they're probably laughing at you right now—laughing at the thought that you have truly enchanted them with your beauty and your charm as they claim. do not fall for it or you will lose everything.

at first, she was polite when she turned them down—but, as her suitors grew more and more persistent in wanting to win her hand in marriage, her patience lessened. she snapped at them—telling them that if they will not respect her wishes as a maiden, then they will heed her orders as their queen.

the answer is no.

displeased, her suitors scowled—but left her alone after that, judging her frigid.

after that series of anxiety-inducing events, poseida subconsciously adopted a Resting Bitch Face and her walls strengthened—walls that no man could ever penetrate. she soon began to gain a reputation. while she was sweet towards children—hence mortals fondly calling her Mother Ocean—she was cold towards men that she did not trust. to the mortal men of ancient greece, poseida seemed as untamable as the seas she governs—unmoved by charm nor male beauty.

[nicepersondisorder]

turns one of the people who wants to call me a friend called his shitty ex a narcissist despite me telling our whole friendgroup how he should Not luse it as an insult, at least two other people with cluster b agreeing with me and talking how narcissistic absue is incorrect and harmful wording AND me telling him specifically that i have npd after he said some bullshit about bpd and cluster b in general. his ass is not getting my friendship 🥰

[yay-depression]

i know the phrase “normalize ____” is overused but god i wish we would normalize being on medication long-term/for a lifetime.

[serial-serializednovelreader]

Nova’s Notes - Dracula Daily - July 20

In which Seward completes his thought (it only took him *checks notes* TWELVE days to cook it up but it’s here)…

Again, Seward uses a lot of ableist language in this entry that I do not relish. There is also implied animal death (not “shown”, just said to have happened) and mention of drugging someone. To get around this, I won’t quote these parts and will only describe them as little as I can (under the cut). I’ll also post this with the appropriate tags. If I don’t see you in this one, I hope to see you in a bit of a lighter entry! Your mental health matters <3

“Visited Renfield very early, before the attendant went his rounds. Found him up and humming a tune. He was spreading out his sugar, which he had saved, in the window, and was manifestly beginning his fly-catching again; and beginning it cheerfully and with a good grace. I looked around for his birds, and not seeing them, asked him where they were. He replied, without turning round, that they had all flown away.”

I know we have a lot to get to, but at least I finally have an answer as to how he’s catching flies — sugar! That makes sense! (Yes, that is what I’m focusing on, no I’m not sorry about it — I’ve been asking Seward about methodology for WEEKS and he just got back to me with this /j) I do wonder where he gets the sugar to spread though…I suppose if Seward is supporting his “pet endeavors” to this end, he is probably allowing him to keep sugar for this purpose. I guess that makes sense. I’m also just imagining Renfield dancing around and humming while spreading sugar…a fun image, to be sure.

Here’s where it gets bad. Last warning, y’all!

What’s not fun is that we can’t see where the birds went. And Renfield isn’t forthcoming on where they went….the fact he won’t turn around while speaking to Seward is telling in and of itself.

So Seward looks further about the room and sees two signs that point to Renfield lying about the birds flying away: feathers scattered about the room, and a drop of blood on his pillow.

Not a good sign!!! Not a good sign at all!!!! I knew this was coming, but I do love that Stoker *evokes* the message of what happened, rather than outright saying it by showing the image of blood and feathers. The art of show don’t tell comes into play once more.

A bit later in the day at 11 a.m., an attendant affirms what Seward already knows: those birds did not just “fly away”. How do they know? Well, Renfield is now sick and is…throwing up feathers. Yeah, this isn’t good.

Twelve hours later, we get an update: that Renfield was given some medication to put him to sleep and Seward took his notebook to read.

Ok, so initially when I read this I was like, “he drugged him without his consent???? To take his notebook???? How DARE he????” And yes, we can definitely look at it in that light, but before doing so, I’d recommend reading this post with the note at the bottom by @rosetyler42 (and also has really good points by @animate-mush for the later points in this post, which I’ll also address). TL;DR, the point raised is that there’s a good chance Seward actually gave Renfield the medicine to help him go to sleep because of his illness. I agree that he likely has food poisoning after what he’s eaten and, as someone who’s had this, you do not feel very good! It would make sense that Seward — as a doctor — would give him medication to treat it, though in this case, the treatment would likely mean putting him to sleep for a time. With all of the nausea and pain he’s in, that actually has some sense to it.

Of course, in the meantime, Seward *will* take the opportunity to read Renfield’s journal. He may be treating his patient (and whether you believe he actually is treating him, or that he solely drugged him to get the notebook is your choice — I know he hasn’t being the most ethical person lately), but he’s not going to miss the chance to peek through the personal belongings while he can! That’s just how Seward is.

Note: this next part is where he uses the majority of his ableist language. I don’t mention it in my thoughts, but wanted to give a heads up for anyone who hasn’t read the entry yet and was wondering where this starts.

Seward finally completes his thought (and I can’t really skate around the implications, so apologies for this): Renfield is setting out to absorb as much life as he can, and he intends to do this by way of a mini food chain, with him as the top predator. Seward is quite interested in what would have been his later steps, and if anything scientifically important could be achieved by this.

Yes, this is where he brings up vivisection, but as the post I linked states, this is more of an example of what was considered to be a strange scientific method that turned out to be useful, rather than him wanting to perform this on Renfield. Don’t get me wrong, the fact that he brings up vivisection as his first thought is…strange, I won’t deny that. But I think it’s more his brain nerding out on science things, rather than wanting to do a vivisection. What he does what to do is get to the heart of what Renfield’s science could be capable of, if anything. However, and this is important to note, he won’t do that because he is not willing to go this far into unethical territory by continuing the experiment. Why? There’s not enough sufficient evidence to indicate positive results, as evidenced by this passage:

“If only there were a sufficient cause! I must not think too much of this, or I may be tempted; a good cause might turn the scale with me, for may not I too be of an exceptional brain, congenitally?”

(Lol, yes Seward you’re smart too <— edit: he actually means out of the norm/neurodivergent here, not smart) He also speculates on the value Renfield places on a human life — many or just one. I do think this is interesting to consider, as some of us humans do eat meat! I don’t like where Seward is going with this though!!!

I do like where he closes this train of thought with:

“He has closed the account most accurately, and to-day begun a new record. How many of us begin a new record with each day of our lives?”

That…that is very profound, Seward. You didn’t have to put that in your musings about Renfield, but you did. Something that I enjoy about Seward’s character is that he likes to get lost in philosophical musings and this is a good example of that.

“To me it seems only yesterday that my whole life ended with my new hope, and that truly I began a new record. So it will be until the Great Recorder sums me up and closes my ledger account with a balance to profit or loss. Oh, Lucy, Lucy, I cannot be angry with you, nor can I be angry with my friend whose happiness is yours; but I must only wait on hopeless and work. Work! work!”

Oh, Seward! And here we reach the root of the problem, one he’s been avoiding talking about for a long time: Lucy. After all, this whole experiment-fiasco has been a distraction to keep himself from thinking of her. But what has that done for him, truly? He still ends up thinking about her, regardless. It breaks my heart a bit that he called her his new hope and that he had to begin anew after that 🥺 it’s never good to put hope as a person but…I understand what he means and it hurts!

Seward comparing God to a “Great Recorder” who will “sum up his account” is so interesting to me! It’s cool to get an insight as to his perspective on religion and how he thinks of it in a more “logical” way (and I do understand he could just be using a metaphor here, but I do think this is his logic and that’s fun to think about lol).

Finally, I love that while he still feels hopeless and bogged down by the fact that all he has to look forward to is his work, he emphasizes that he’s not angry at Lucy *or* Arthur. He wants them to be happy! It doesn’t mean he won’t still be sad, though :(

In the end, he wants a cause like Renfield has — a “strong” one he can turn to that will give him “happiness”. Will that give him real happiness though? Because Renfield sure doesn’t seem happy after his illness today. I’m just saying…

That’s all for this one! Will be putting out the others soon — sorry for the late entry on this one.

[space-time-hellsite]

I wrote a poem about existing in today's societ as part of a minority

I warn, it does talk about ableism, and death

Endure by space-time-hellsite

—

There's something so incredibly moronic

About those that think it's ironic

To say "you're not iconic"

They say I'm a "narcissist",

Of course I am, it came alongside

The fucked up world

You

Trapped

Me

In

And some days I wonder

Why I even bother

To pretend to be a brother

I don't care for you "humans"

You never cared for me

Yet you say I should be

just

like

you

I refuse

So say I have claws, point at my bare teeth and shout

"You're hurting us! you're killing us!"

So go and cause more turmoil and agony

End the lives of many just like me

Because I will endure, and I will survive

Just to show you the harm you've caused

[thetuxedohawlucha]

Learn To Keep Your Mouth Shut - OFF SCREEN INTERACTION

[ Hawlucha glanced down at his phone, unable to shift the pit in his stomach. A message had popped up, one that made that pit even deeper than it already had been. ]

Suicune: Call me, now.

"Well here goes nothing..." Hawlucha sighed, calling him once he had left the message on read.

[ The first thing he heard was the last thing he wanted to hear. ]

"What's your fucking problem?"

"Hey, hey, calm down-"

"No I'm not gonna calm down. Tell me why I'm seeing stuff claiming you're ableist? Was that you?!"

Hawlucha gave a heavier sigh, "It was not meant to come across that way-"

"That's not an excuse. You chose to be an ass about it and now you're paying the price for it! You never learn, do you?!"

"Suicune, wait, slow down-"

"Look, I get it, I hate Team Plasma too, but they still deserve basic decency! I'm trying to save your feathers here, you need to march over to that blog and apologise for what you said!"

Hawlucha paused, taking a few seconds to process what Suicune had said before giving his response, "What if it doesn't sound legitimate? I'm shit at apologies, you know that, I don't want to make this worse."

"Hawlucha, are you gonna show care or just try to keep your reputation in tact?"

"...show care...I do care, I really do, but..."

"You're worried that one mistake will define you?"

"Of course. I mean, Garchomp still feels guilty after what happened to Pip-"

"Don't mention it..."

Hawlucha bit his lip, a pang of guilt hitting him, "Ah, right, sorry."

"There we go, you can apologise. Now, go tell that to that Plasma one."

"Wow, that Plasma one, how informative."

"You know what I mean, don't fuck yourself over further."

[ With that, Suicune hung up. Hawlucha sat down, trying to think of what he should do. ]

[ An idea came to mind, although he wasn't the most pleased with the pokémon that also came to mind at the same time. ]

[ Zoroark was a pokémon he held a grudge against, not only did he get wound up easily by their illusions, but one of his neighbours had one, who was notorious for turning into a clown and scaring him. There were some Zoroark he could handle, but the majority of the time, his experiences weren't exactly great. ]

Hawlucha poked his head into the kitchen, "Hey, I'm going out to grab something, I'll be back soon."

"Hmm? Ah, alright, be careful, the paths still need to be gritted, it's pretty slippery."

Hawlucha nodded at his trainer's response, "I'll keep that in mind."

[ With that, he grabbed his coat and bag, heading out the door to pick out something gift worthy. ]