#anyways remind me after I post this that I can toss like 3 or 4 of these alternate versions into the prompt party

[jmflowers]

been working on a piece for a few months - a sequel to travel light if you will - which is intended to begin the collection of the later years in Hygge universe

but I keep finding myself writing this one section in different ways, having it unfold in different locations and with different responses so that I now have four or five versions (at least) of just this one singular moment in time

to the point that I just sent another bit to @lacallemojada and she said, and I quote: “you’ll probably change it, but at least I got to read it, gracias!!!!”

y’all… y’all… am I too type A when it comes to writing?

[agendabymooner]

i think he knows ! lando n. x ofc (alessandro sister!writer!ofc)

"he got the boyish look that i like in a man."

summary: nicola alessandro released a novel under the pen name 'grazie nichols' and everyone made sure that the fans are supporting her. lando norris could do anything but be subtle about the things he knew, and the novel's inspo was one of those things.

content warning: possible use of explicit language, appearance of other fictional characters (hearth sisters, lester ricciardo, etc), dirty jokes (no smut), ofc and lando being menaces, ofc being obsessed with lando, fans trying to come up with theories, ofc's account is private (colabebe)

note: (time check: 12:25 am) i'm sorry i dipped out 😭 a lot happened yesterday: i hung out with the guy (it was awkward lol) went to see the barbie movie with my sister then had a sangria after- i was planning to post something when i got home but apparently i'm a lightweight and was knocked out after. let me know what you think!!! anyway enjoy xx

ps. yes the graphics in here are stuff that i made hehe sorry if they're awful but these are just some last minute shit i made xx

masterlist

tagged grazienichols

liked by landonorris, alex_albon, arthurleclerc

user1 new booktok rec??

user2 the grid is literally hyping this up 😭 is it that good

user3 MORE FORMULA ONE BOOKS!!!

user4 my wallet: empty

user5 me rn: trying to determine which driver relates to the man in the book the most 🧐

user6 bets on leclerc

user7 hmmm i think its more like estie? he's giving muse

user8 it could be yuki ???

user9 i agree user6 it's most likely shal bc that man is book bf material

liked by landonorris, pierregasly, danielricciardo

danielricciardo i don't blame them; this book is a bomb ass book 😉 liked by grazienichols

grazienichols 🤪

user1 grazie stop emptying my wallet challenge 🤐

grazienichols 😶 sorry xx

user2 making money just to get to monaco gp- gurl i don't blame you 😭

grazienichols it's getting more expensive as years go on 🥶

f1 monaco gp you say??? 👀

user3 she's making money already just toss the ticket in us broke people's direction 🙃

user4 yeah what she said ^^

tagged charles_leclerc, loricciardo, estebanocon and 7 other people

liked by colabebe, danielricciardo, arthurleclerc

user1 isn't lester pregnant??? why is she bent like that on the 7th photo? 😭

user2 lester can do things us mere humans can't

alex_albon i am appalled liked by lando.jpg

lando.jpg i can't put too much photos sorry lad

alex_albon i'll remember this.

user3 lando fed us with the hearth sisters content at the slides 2, 4 and 6 and i've never felt this loved since my ex <3

user4 gurl 💀 u good

user5 ESTIE BESTIEEEE 😩 i might bust a lil gimme a sec to chill

user6 the sisters in blue 🤤

user7 who's the third photo?

user8 lester's youngest sister, nicola

danielricciardo loricciardo 🤨 what're u doing?

loricciardo protecting baby ric 😳 liked by lando.jpg

lando.jpg by flattening his head? 😟

loricciardo you just reduced my standing time and increased my bedrest time lando.jpg thx

lando.jpg what 😭 what's gonna happen if you're in bedrest? is the baby's head going to inflate back to place??

danielricciardo landonorris lad. that's not how it works.

arthurleclerc colabebe that pink is nice asf

colabebe thank you art!!! nice seeing you!!!

user9 uhhhhh?!!! arthur and daniel's in-law?

georgerussell63 why am i not there??? 🧐

lando.jpg my bad- i didn't really want you to take of your shirt in the middle of the ballroom hall. not really your night tonight mate.

user10 where is toto?!!!

lando.jpg god love him but he already has enough photo taken by his own wife. give others some chance to make it to my jpg account

user10 understood king 🤌

sylvieeford no max?? he really pissed you off 😹 liked by lando.jpg

lando.jpg yeah, and keep on reminding him that. maybe he'd apologize for once 🙄

landonorris posted a story !!!

tagged landonorris

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, nora_alessandro

danielricciardo my favourite italian-british couple (no offense nora but i don't like georgerussell63 that much) liked by colabebe

nora_alessandro 😒😒

georgerussell63 you're not my favourite aussie either mate 😉

landonorris god gave me an equally obsessed gf and i love him for it liked by colabebe

colabebe just him??? 💔

landonorris me when you: 💗😩😳🤤

colabebe ❤️‍🩹

landonorris look at her

landonorris shes so pretty omg whats her @

oscarpiastri your simp looking ass is getting more obvious

colabebe 🤨 not my fault u don't get bitches 🤡

oscarpiastri do you wanna fight or wha 🤬

colabebe i deadlegged you last time and you ate shit so idk if thats even a question

oscarpiastri landonorris ur rat is at it again

landonorris hey man, that's my simp. leave her alone

mateoales throwing up

landonorris ratio + take L + didn't ask

colabebe cry + whine + sob + complain

mateoales you two are so mean when ur together

[livseses]

Fuck, shit, as well as damn it ("blast it all to the lower depths" as Ny would say). Idk if we posted this nonsense already. But fuck it. Gonna post it anyways.

Lol

Lmao

Fucking ha even

So we got

DID

(Pt: So we got DID)

We found out from our therapist the other day that she had updated our diagnosis. She went on leave for a few months, and we had a wonderful substitute therapist who had experience treating DID. After she had gotten back she consulted with said substitute and they both agreed that our symptoms matched up more with DID than OSDD-1.

We were fine with this, and she explicitly said that it was due to the memory issues. When we walked through the DES and diagnostic criteria, we didn't think our memory was "beyond normal forgetting". 8-9 months later, and a fresh set of eyes on us, and she got enough of a picture to check that box.

The only real complaint is that we don't know when we would have found this out, because it had come up from an unrelated conversation. But we've come to trust her well enough to believe that it was a simple mistake and not something more abusive of her authority.

But it's left us in a funny place. We've always thought our memory was shit, but not that shit. ADHD working memory out the door, and SDAM tossing the video feeds into the garbage. Nothing dissociative for the most part. Just weird brain quirks with memory.

But after getting hit with this, it's been, like I said, kinda funny feeling. Hell, read the first paragraph. We had agreed yesterday to pick my girlfriend up from work today, and didn't remember that until after the missed calls. That kinda shook us.

We've had missing days a plenty. Times where we were jazzed by the realization that Friday was one (1) day closer than we thought. Times where we were the opposite of jazzed because we missed a class (or a fucking final exam) because we thought we had another day left in the week.

We don't remember more than a handful of experiences from before college, and they dwindle the further back we go. But we know the facts. This kid with our deadname did/said/experienced X, Y, or Z. That kind of stuff. That's always been our memory. That's always been "normal forgetting".

Appointments, obligations, scheduled tasks. They all get missed until we can't do anything about them. We rely on routine. Therapy a 4 pm on Tuesdays. Oh it's at 3? Or on Monday? Guess we're not going. Need to call the doctor during business hours. But it's the weekend so we can't. Oh now it's the evening so we can't. Whoopsie, it's Saturday again and we need to call the doctor during business hours. Oh and file those papers before the kidos arrive at preschool. Gotta remember to file those papers. But it's time to prep for class and all the prep is done so we're incredibly bored and twiddling our thumbs. Kiddos are here but FUCK forgot to file the papers. Maybe after class? Oh yeah, all the tables are clean and nothing else to do but head home so that we can scream and panic because we need to file those papers in the morning before the kiddos get to class.

I don't recall telling this story before. Wait no, the bored look in your eyes reminds me that I saw that look last time I told you this story again.

It's strange and surreal right now to hammer home that yeah, this isn't "normal forgetting". Fuck I remember thinking that maybe the ADHD memory poo would count enough for criterion B. How much does our memory suck and we've just compensated hard? How much do we forget that we forget?

There's something important I need to stress btw. All of this ramble, all of these memory issues, all of this forgetting and amnesia? All of it is irrespective of switches and headmates (save maybe the lost days). DID and plural memory issues almost always treat forgetting as something done between members. It's so frequently held that the memory is held by someone else.

While that's true in many cases, it's absolutely not universal. Our Dx comes from our recurrent gaps in our recall that's not consistent with ordinary forgetting. Not an inability to recall the memories of other headmates. Hell our most recent experience with that was when Ny agreed to pick up my gf, and she forgot; we all forgot.

Maybe that's a nitpick. Maybe I'm being particular. Maybe I'm annoyed. I don't know that our treatment would be any different if we kept OSDD-1 under the notion that DID required intra-idenity amnesia.

But yeah memory is fuck. Ramble is done. I hope this isn't something we posted yesterday or something. But if it is, that's pretty fucking funny to us.

-Faye

[tricksters-captain]

Benny Watts/The Queens Gambit imagines - From Pawn to Pen Part 4

AN: I’m sorry I missed posting last week. I’m currently going through a hard break up and it’s really taking a lot of energy out of me so I struggle to write at the moment. 

Overall Summary: You’re a young journalist for Chess Review, with a love for chess and a desire for knowledge. One day at a tournament, you come across the famous Benny Watts...

In this chapter: You return to Boston for the week. 

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)

Pairing(s): Benny Watts x Fem!reader

Word Count: 1,940

Warnings: Some strong language

You smiled as you looked at the copies of ‘Chess Review’ on the racks. 

Your first front page piece for Chess Review. 

They had used one of the pictures of Benny that you had taken at the hotel and you were pretty proud of your photography skills. 

You picked up a copy and took it inside to pay for it. 

On second thought, you picked up two so you could mail one to Angelie. 

You left the store quickly after and started to walk back to your apartment. 

Boston was busier than you had remembered and you finally had some time to sort out the apartment after your article went down well with the big man. 

You opened the door to your apartment and put down your groceries on the kitchen counter top. 

The last tenant hadn’t left the place in too bad a state, just a carpet stain here and there and a broken lamp. 

You had bought some paint to redecorate your living room and bedroom since it seemed too boring after where you lived in Paris. You had spent the last couple days painting and then you finally left to go check out your title page. 

The books that Benny had given you were still on your small two person dining room table where you had left them when you first got back. You looked over at them and furrowed your brow as you thought about whether you are actually going to bother to read them or not. 

Your phone started to ring and your frown disappeared when you realised it was probably Angelie. No one else had your number besides your work. 

“Hello?” You answered it, taking the phone off the wall as you leant beside it. 

“Miss (Y/L/N)?” You’d recognise that voice anywhere after listening to it so much over the last tournament. 

“Benny Watts?” You asked, almost in shock. 

“Have you read those books I leant you yet?” He asked, not even bothering to confirm it was him. 

“It’s been four days.” You told him flatly. 

“You could’ve easily gotten through at least two of them by now.” Benny challenged you which caused you to shake your head (even though he couldn’t see). 

“You know, Benny Watts, I do have a life to live.” You defended yourself to which Benny found amusing. 

“So, you’re back in Boston since you picked up this phone.” Benny changed the subject completely. 

“How did you even get this number?” You asked, genuinely curious and a little worried. 

“You really think Chess Review won’t hand over your telephone number to their favourite US chess player?” 

“You got it from Beth Harmon then?”  You teased the boy to which he responded with a dry laughter. 

“Ha Ha. Very funny.” Benny retorted, “If you’re in Boston, it means you currently aren’t working. Fancy an educational trip to New York City?” 

“Benny, I told you. I’m not coming to New York.” You reminded him about how you declined previously when he asked. 

“Come on, just for the weekend? We’ll play some chess, do some tourist shit and eat some food?” Benny asked, trying his best to persuade you Benny Watts style. 

“I’ve also told you before that I don’t play.” You felt a small bubble of excitement in your stomach as you considered going to New York but you quickly squashed it down. 

“What are you afraid of?” Benny asked. Deja Vu. 

“Why are you pushing this?” You closed your eyes as you let your head roll back to press against the wall. 

“Because I see that same light that’s in Beth Harmon, that’s in every decent chess player when you see a chess board.” Benny confessed to you. 

“I’m sorry, Benny. You’ll just have to find someone else to play with. I don’t want to be apart of this little game.” You hung up the phone with a sad sigh before Benny could respond. 

You found yourself looking at the books again. 

You picked up Benny’s and you opened it...

“I’ve been waiting all day for your call.” You half scolded Angelie as you answered the call. 

You heard Angelie’s laughter through the phone and it made you home sick. 

“Je suis désolé!” Angie apologised. “This new project has me so busy, constantly on set, costume changes, make up changes, redoing scene..!” 

“It sounds awful.”  You chuckled, 

“It is! You wouldn’t understand... You’re just a big time American journalist.” Angelie pouted. “Anyway, how are you?” 

“I’m okay.” You lied. 

“Menteuse!” Angelie called you out. “Tell me the truth. What is bothering you, Mon Cher?” 

“Benny Watts called me today.” You had filled her in on the tournament with him once you had first arrived back in Boston and she had already previously told you off for not taking his offer to New York. 

“He did?!” Angie gasped. 

“Yes, he did. He got my number through work and called me to ask if I had read the books he gave me which I haven’t because it’s been less than a week since. the tournament.” You explained. 

“That boy is in love with you, I am telling you now.” Angie was always the hopeless romantic type. It’s how she has had her heart broke so many times. 

“The boy wants to play chess with me to assert his masculine dominance over me and boost his ego with an easy win.” You argued. 

“You are always so negative about men! You hardly know this one!” Angelie groaned. 

“He’s Benny Watts. That’s all I need to know.” 

“I think you should go to New York and meet with him.” Angelie told you. You hadn’t even informed her about the fact he asked you again. 

“I think I should stay here and enjoy my first weekend off in six months.” You shook your head at the idea. 

“(Y/n), you only live once and how many girls are invited to New York by the Benny Watts?!” 

“Probably quite a lot.” You knew Angie was only trying to hype you up but you couldn’t help but knock her down. 

“Even if that is so. You could probably get another article out of it. Benny Watts and his life in the big apple?” Angie suggested. 

“I’m sure ‘LIFE’ has already done that piece before.” You pushed another idea aside. 

“Trust me, (Y/n). You need to stop being so afraid of the unknown and who knows, maybe you’ll enjoy yourself?” Angelie had had enough of the negativity from you at this point. 

There was a sudden knock at your door. 

“I’m sorry, Angie. Someone’s just knocked on my door, I’ll have to call you back.” You looked over at your front door and wondered who it could be. 

“Ça va. Call me back!” She told you as the knock occurred again. 

“Je t'aime.” You hung the phone back up on the wall and went over to your door. 

You opened it and you felt your face go white at the sight of who stood there. 

“Jesus, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Benny Watts. 

BENNY WATTS.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked him. 

“Well,  you wouldn’t come to me so I came to you.” Benny shrugged. 

“You can’t just stalk someone. This isn’t okay. This isn’t cute!” You were bewildered. 

“This isn’t stalking. It’s simply coming to Boston to visit a friend.” He defended himself as he stood out in the hallway. 

“I wouldn’t call us friends, Benny.” You scoffed. 

“Ouch.” Benny put his hand on his heart. 

You went to close your door on him but Benny stopped you. 

“Wait.” He pleaded. His cocky demeanour suddenly dropped. “Look, I know this is weird but I really wanted to see you.” Benny started to explain. 

“I––” He cut you short. 

“–– This isn’t some game. I just want to help you. I want you to play chess again. I want you to play with me.” Benny stayed with his hand against the door and his foot in the gap as he spoke. 

“This is crazy, Benny.” You told him, your eyes locked on his as you felt your heart race. 

“I know.” Benny stepped back. “I’m staying in the hotel down the block. I’ll be here all weekend. If you don’t want to see me, then don’t. But if you change your mind. I’ll be around.” 

You watched him back away from the door and head back down the stairs. 

Benny fucking Watts. 

You rushed back to the phone and dialled Angelie’s number. 

“Bonjour?” She answered, 

“You’ll never guess who was at the door.” 

You ended up tossing and turning all night. 

You caved in at around 3am and started to read Benny’s book again. 

You finished it by the time the sun was rising. 

You had a cold shower to wake you up at around 9am and then you stared in the mirror as the thoughts racked your brain. 

You walked over to your chess set that rested on the dresser top and you took it over to your bed, opening it up. 

You set up the board and stared at it.  

You picked up the queen. The same queen that Benny had held in the photo you took. 

You caved. 

You dressed and did simple make up before heading to the hotel that Benny had told you he was staying. 

“I’m looking for Mr Benny Watts.” You asked the elderly lady at the front desk. 

“He’s staying in room 306 but I’m almost certain I saw him leave about an hour ago for breakfast.” She informed you. 

You thanked her then sighed. 

You left the hotel lobby and started down the street. There was plenty of places to eat around the hotel, you almost considered just waiting in the lobby for him to return. 

Then you saw it. 

Through a window of a small diner. 

The famous black hat. 

You pushed open the diner door and walked towards the booth where Benny was sat. 

He had his back to you but he didn’t seem surprised to see you when you sat down opposite him.  

“Morning.” He greeted you as he munched on some pancakes. 

“I won’t play chess with you.” You stated. “I won’t play chess with you but I will spend the weekend with you and you can talk about it.”

Benny remained silent as his brown eyes watched you carefully. 

“I finished your book.” You told him. “I'm ready to learn.” 

Benny placed his knife and fork down, picking up the napkin beside his plate to wipe his mouth. 

“Great.” He nodded, interlinking his fingers above his food as he elbows rested on the table.  “Let’s begin.” 

(WHAT HAPPENS NEXT HERE)

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[aesethewitch]

Potion of Sick-Be-Gone: Homemade Chicken Broth

If you’ve never made your own chicken broth, I highly recommend you give it a try. It’s extremely easy, more flavorful than store-bought broth, and full of magical potential. I almost never buy broth anymore since I know that my own is always better.

I make this regularly throughout the year, but I always try to bulk up before the weather turns. The winter months often bring stuffy noses and sore throats for me, so having a hearty broth to warm up and sip on anytime is a must. Full of nutrients and hydration, there’s a reason I call this my Potion of Sick-Be-Gone.

Please note: This isn’t a cure-all, and magic should never substitute actual medicine and a doctor’s visit. This recipe is just a nutritious way to boost your self-care before, during, and after sickness. Please, please, please see a doctor if you’re sick!! I can tell you from experience that this will not cure your strep throat... but it can help soothe the soreness and give you some energy. Staying hydrated and full of nutrients can shorten illness or make you feel less like death warmed over, but not cure it.

Ingredients:

Bones of a chicken, already cooked and picked over (you can roast your own, like I did, or you can get a pre-cooked chicken from the store; both work just fine!)

2 Large Onions

2 Ribs of Celery

5 or 6 Cloves of Garlic

2 Carrots (I often leave these out because I don’t like them... but I’m including them here anyways for anyone who does like carrots)

2 to 3 Bay Leaves

10 Fresh Sage Leaves, or 2 teaspoons Dried Sage

Salt and Pepper to taste

Optional additions: Thyme or other herbs and spices

Water to cover all ingredients

Instructions:

In a large pot, place your chicken carcass at the bottom. You can break it down if you want, but I often leave it as it is. Be sure to remove any meat that you still want to eat!

Cut your onions in half and add them to the pot, including the skins. Clean and break your celery in half, then add it to the pot. Crush the garlic and toss them into the pot, skins and all. If you’re including carrots, give them a good clean and rough cut and toss them in - no need to peel.

Add your bay leaves, sage, and any other herbs and spices you like. Add your salt and pepper. I usually do about 2 tablespoons of salt and eyeball the pepper. You can always add more later.

Add enough water to cover all of your ingredients.

Bring the pot to a boil and then immediately reduce the heat to a simmer. Cover with a lid and simmer for 4 hours, stirring occasionally. At hour 2, your kitchen will be filled with the delicious aroma of broth, but don’t be tempted to take it off the heat yet! It still needs longer to absorb all the flavor it can. At hour 3, if you find that your broth is still very weak, take the lid off and simmer uncovered for the remaining time to allow some of the liquid to evaporate. Skim any white film or bubbles off the top and discard. Be sure to enjoy the aromatic steam every time you take the lid off!

You’ll know the broth is ready when it’s a beautiful amber color and when it tastes exactly the way you want it to. Once your broth has simmered long enough, strain the liquid into a heat-proof container. Let it come to room temperature before storing in your container of choice. I like to run mine through a fine-mesh strainer into mason jars so that there aren’t any little bits floating around.

Store the broth in the fridge for up to 2 weeks. You can also use an ice cube tray to freeze the broth and store it all winter long. Use it as soup, in gravies, in sauces, and more.

Optional magic you can include:

Since the purpose of the broth is to be a potion of good health, you’ll want to keep your intentions clear as you chop and add your ingredients to the pot. Humming and singing is a sign of good health in my home - someone who is sick will not want to be singing, but someone who is healthy and happy will - so I like to play or hum music that reminds me of my goals.

Garlic and onion are strong herbs for protection and health. Use them as spell components to cast out sickness and bolster the immune system of everyone who drinks from the potion.

Similarly, sage is a cleansing and protective herb. As you add your leaves of sage (or your dried sage) to the pot, focus on cleansing the body and air of contaminants.

Bay leaves are commonly used in wish magic. I add these one at a time, naming sicknesses I often suffer from in the wintertime - clogged sinuses, sore throats, headaches. You know your body better than anyone, so think about what you usually feel when you get sick. Name them, and assign a bay leaf to the repelling of that symptom or illness.

You can repurpose this potion to be used for an ailment I refer to as “soul sickness.” You might call this the effects of the evil eye - a rash of bad luck, a heavy feeling, etc. - or even a curse. This potion can be used to break a curse or lift the negative effects of a spell. In your cup or bowl, simply stir counter-clockwise and envision the healing energy swirling and activating. As you sip, you will take in that energy. Let the warmth push out the cold and damp, cleansing you from the inside out. (Remember to ward/protect yourself afterwards!)

You could also use it as a post-ritual potion to restore your energy and cleanse yourself of residual negativity. I often feel drained after an intense ritual or spell, and I like to have a hot cup of broth on hand to soothe myself and enrich my body with the cleansing, protective vibes. In my experience, I regain my energy twice as fast!

BONUS: “But Aese,” I hear you say, “I don’t eat meat! How can I make this without the chicken?” My friend, I’m glad you asked. You can easily alter this recipe to be just vegetables! Simply take out the chicken and add more veggies to your pot. I recommend adding mushrooms of your choice and more onions and garlic for extra flavor.

If you make this recipe and enjoy it, please let me know!

Stay Healthy, Everyone! 💛

[duskwoodraven]

Okay! 👏👏 I’d say it’s time for the long after episode MWAF theory/pick apart everything! Of course this will be littered with lots of spoilers so don’t read if you haven’t finished ep 8 yet!

Now as a sort of disclaimer, I know that some people are preparing to throw the Richy is the MWAF theory out the window, which I do not blame them for by this point. The game has screamed over and over again that Richy is gone yet I can’t help but hold on to my theory to the bitter end.😅 I hope everyone has an open mind to what I have to say on the matter. Maybe there will be some points or reminders to help you find your own take on the topic as I explain my own thoughts in the process.

———

First of all, one of the things that has bothered me since the ending is that they still haven’t explained this very basic fact about the MWAF. How in the world did the MWAF know about the group’s investigations and MC’s involvement?

I touched upon this in my last couple theories where I pushed for Richy’s guiltiness by explaining that for the MWAF to know that Jessy would be out on a walk with us, or to know Richy wouldn’t be at Rogers Garage when he was marked, or even knowing we agreed to help this investigation at all, he would need access to the group chats. He would need to know basic information about the groups whereabouts and plan according to it. Not answering this basic fact would leave a gaping hole in the plot.

Micheal Hanson by what we know, left Duskwood more then a year ago, essentially a missing person in the eyes of Duskwood. The group apparently didn’t even know his name so none of them would have told him directly what they were up to. The only way he might be getting information about anything is from Phil, who was being told everything by Jessy herself. That might be plausible if you squint, but yet we know Jessy and Phil’s relationship was even worse in the beginning episodes, I highly doubt Jessy would tell Phil much about herself and the investigation and there is no saying if Phil would even think to move this information along to Michael if he was even in contact with the old bar owner at the time. Also we received a call from the MWAF the very first time we talked to Dan, waaaay in the beginning episodes, we didn’t even know who Phil was at that point, yet the MWAF knew who we were almost immediately.

Then I played with the idea that the MWAF was using an encryption like Alan was or using a spy mode like Jake is, to read everything secretly, but that idea was tossed out too. Michael was a bar owner not a hacker or police investigator, there is little reason to believe he’d know how to do something like that, nor would anyone in his life teach him how to do it either.

(Also as a bonus point for why the MWAF might be Richy, the MWAF didn’t seem to be aware that Jessy and Thomas were heading to the house at all, he still had his candles lit and “art” up so he couldn’t have prepared for their arrival and hide. He might have only noticed Thomas and Jessy where there when he saw the car. This took place after we removed Richy from the chat as well so...)

Secondly, the MWAF’s motivation, why would Michael wait 10 years to take revenge for his daughter and why is he mainly attacking the group over it? For benefit of the doubt, Michael is the few suspects who has a possible motive that makes some sort of sense, yet it’s such a drastic leap in logic for him to attack the group at all.

If Michael is the MWAF and he’s attacking people for revenge, then why would he take Hannah, who we know feels guilty over Jennifer’s death and seems to be working to find out the truth about the case, and kidnap her. She’s trying to bring justice to his daughter, so why would Jennifer’s own father try and interrupt that process? Even if Hannah somehow helped cause Jennifer’s death (reminder that Hannah would have been a child by this point) we know she wasn’t the true killer, it was a man who hit her with a car and took her body into the woods. If Michael really wanted further revenge, killing that man should have been on the top of his priorities, not Hannah.

The hostility he has towards the group is also strange, for a man who cares only for revenge, he seems oddly determined to wipe out everyone, that sounds more like a man who is afraid of being caught then a man who just wants to take down the people who hurt his daughter in the past. That doesn’t sound like the role of a grieving father to me.

And once again he has waited a long time to seek out this revenge anyway, this man was apparently a sheep herder of sorts according to Lily before he disappeared, why come back at all? A parent who lost their child will never lose the pain of that child’s absence, but you’d think the burning embers of revenge would simmer down after 10 years of time and reflection, what could have triggered him to come back? And why would he pick the most foolish spot to set up his base? He should know he was suspected in the past, setting up camp at his own house will easily connect him to the crime as Lilly had demonstrated by throwing out this theory at the end of the episode.

I think it’s more possible for someone else to use Michael Hanson’s house as a coverup to throw off suspicion of himself. Yet who knows? Maybe he is foolish enough to do that lol.

Thirdly, the inconsistency of the legend, the MWAF is not doing a good job at being consistent. He is not taking the people he marked at the first moon of the year and he is also killing them. The original book did not state the people who are taken will die, simply that they will disappear, yet the MWAF supposedly set out to kill Richy, but doesn’t kill Hannah.

And we now know Hannah is most likely alive at this moment because the MWAF stated so in the phone call he was going to kill her. I don’t think he’s lying because it would honestly benefit him more to kill Hannah and tell the group that he did to destroy the groups moral completely rather than keeping her alive.

With these inconsistencies, why should we trust the rules of the legend, they seem to be more like guidelines for the MWAF then actual facts.

Heck, when we talked to Darkness, he told us that the MWAF takes his victims to kill them, something not stated in the book at all.

From this, the book may very well be wrong and unreliable, perhaps the MWAF is following a different legend, a different version of the tale that Darkness might know about. Either way, it would be unwise to connect Micheal to the MWAF simply because of what the legend says until we know why these inconsistencies are taking place.

Basically what I am trying to say, the group is accepting Michael as guilty too fast for my taste, the only facts we have for Michael being the one who did it is that he’s 1. The father of Jennifer 2. The legend we first read was about a father taking revenge 3. We found the MWAF’s “art” inside Michaels old house. 4. Not many people know where Michael is.

That is enough evidence to have someone arrested and investigated, not to convict them of a crime.

———

So do I still think Richy is guilty? Well... somewhat.

I still firmly believe Richy has the most evidence pointed to him and would have the ability to execute the actions we have seen the MWAF take, he would have had access to group chats, his body is still missing like I figured it would be, and he has the knowledge of Duskwood’s history and landscape. He truly is a perfect fit in many ways in my own opinion except for how he fits into this legend and what his motivation could possibly be. Plus the fact that his hat was bloody when it was found, I don’t know if Richy would be capable of harming himself on purpose to make everything more convincing.

All and all, questions still need to be answered and I don’t want to be too hasty in declaring who the MWAF truly is until we can rip the mask off of his face and get him behind bars for good 😌

I’ll be interested to hear your takes on this below, and I’ll probably expand on this conversation when I think of more relevant points or to explain my idea more in-depth if anyone is confused over this post, thanks for reading til the end! 💛

[startistdoodles]

Top 5 legendary Pokémon trio you liked??🤭

OHHH interesting question!

As per usual with my rambly posts, I'll explain under the cut as to not take up a bunch of space 👌

5. Legendary Beasts (Raikou, Entei, Suicune)

I absolutely love the designs of these three, I think they’re so distinct and majestic. Although their capture method is a bit frustrating (as roaming legendaries tend to be) it always delights me when I’m just going through a random patch of grass and I can hear the distinct battle theme start playing. It’s such an adrenaline rush.

Of the three, Suicune might be my favorite. I love its blue and white coloration and the wind-like tails make it look very mystic. I also loved the role it played in the Celebi movie, I think that’s why I was drawn to it as a kid.

4. Lake Guardians (Mesprit, Uxie, Azelf)

Unlike most of the “mini” legendary trios, the lake guardians have an important role to play in their story. Their power is used to summon one (or both) of the deity Pokémon, and you have to rescue them. They also assist you in return for saving their lives. I love their designs and how each of them are based on a type of forest spirit (a sprite, a pixie and an elf/gnome). And not to mention...their battle theme? Is such a banger.

Of the three, I think I like Mesprit the most. Not just because it’s the one that most closely bonds with the player canonically, having been the guardian of the lake where they grew up, but I also remember fervently chasing after it when it was roaming and it was the first legendary I ever caught. It also sounds like it’s saying “owo” which is an added bonus.

3. Legendary Golems (Original) (Regirock, Registeel, Regice)

I’m gonna pretend for a moment that the Hoenn regis and the Galar regis are separate groups for this because I have stuff to say about the original trio. I love how the game doesn’t explicitly tell you about the hidden Regis, but you do get hints and bread crumbs laid out about these sealed chambers that need to be opened. I actually didn’t even know about their existence until I was reading the Emerald handbook and it said something about a secret passage underwater on one of the routes. It was such a thrill going to uncover this ancient tomb and deciphering braille to solve puzzles. It made me feel like an actual archeologist uncovering something huge and mysterious. And again with the battle themes...just listen to it. It’s incredible.

Of the original regis, I think Regirock might be my favorite? There’s not really a particular reason, I just think he’s neat and a big ol clunky boy. Ün ün ün,,

2. Tao Trio (Reshiram, Zekrom, Kyurem)

Black and White are my favorite main-series Pokémon games and these legendary dragons play a part in that. They’re designed so flawlessly, with Reshiram being very soft and fluffy while Zekrom is tougher and more sturdy-looking. And Kyurem is the frozen empty husk left behind. I love the fusion that Kyurem has with the other two, but it makes me curious why it can’t fuse with both simultaneously. These three were all once one being, but it seems they can’t all fuse together anymore. I’d be interested to know the lore behind that.

My favorite in this trio is Zekrom. I’m bias, I got White version and bonded with him. His body shape reminds me a lot of Palkia (another one of my faves) with the bipedal stature and the wings on the back. I just think an electric dragon is such an amazing idea and Zekrom does the concept flawlessly.

HONORABLE MENTION: Weather Trio (Groudon, Kyogre, Rayquaza)

I couldn’t pick between them and the number one spot so consider these three to be in the 1.5 position. I won’t ramble about them too long, but their designs are amazing (especially in their primal/mega forms) the lore within the story is so good, their powers are so iconic and their battle theme in ORAS is absolutely LEGENDARY PLEASE LISTEN TO IT-

Kyogre is my favorite of the three, but Rayquaza is a close second. I love its cry, its design (orcas are my favorite aquatic animal) its primal form is AMAZING and it would absolutely win in a fight with the other two with all the water and ice type moves it can learn. Kyogre is the mvp.

1. Creation Trio (Dialga, Palkia, Giratina)

This was probably the most expected on the list, lol. The creation trio has always been my favorite group of legendaries and their powers have fascinated me since i was but a wee 9 year old playing Pearl. The myths and legends around them are so fascinating and they’re the start of the Pokémon franchise actually giving a deeper amount of lore to their story. How the world began and the god-like Pokémon behind it. Not to mention the revelation of a world that is parallel to our own and keeps the balance between them in check. And the trio’s designs are unlike any other Pokémon we had seen at that point. Very otherworldly and embody their respective elements very well.

As for which one is my favorite...that’s a toss up. I love all of them, but I am a bit more partial to Palkia. I love its design, its robotic wings and the pearls in its shoulders are so unique. Its cry in the game and in the anime are both just so alien-like and one of my favorite cries in the whole series. And also its typing of Water/Dragon is SUPER good, it’s a real tank.

Anyways that’s about it! Thanks for the ask, this was fun to think about~

[mrslackles]

what do you think are gg's biggest flaws?

Ooh, Anon! It’s like you’re in my head. 

I’m busy making a video (that will probably never see the light of day) about this --  my distance from the show has really helped with some super objective clarity -- so I’ll use my notes from that to help me answer. 

I’ll preface this by saying what I was most shocked by after putting down all the points was that Rio isn’t even mentioned until really far down??

Anyway, let's get into it.

These are Good Girls' greatest flaws in my opinion (and relative to season 1 -- while I think it had its flaws too, the list is far smaller and I think that's a separate post)

1. It didn't stick to its guns

What set this show apart from others in the 'Everyday person does crime (poorly)' genre was its comedic lightness, strong friendship element, relatability and emphasis on girl power.

a) By season 2, the lightness was already slowly disappearing to make way for season 3's darkness. (Quite literally; this show said sunlight scenes for WHO.) It also stopped being as fun. Remember how it genuinely used to be fun? I mean let's not forget The Best Scene Ever where Ruby shoots Big Mike by accident and we all laughed our asses off. (Compare and contrast to a similar-in-tone-and-context scene -- or even the whole episode -- like Boomer popping up behind them as Rio's package in season 3.) I think season 3 had some great lines and laughs, but in general, the fun element was completely missing for me.

b) As was the friendship. We already know Annie and Ruby basically became Beth's backup dancers in season 2, but at least then they still seemed to have some type of agency. In season 3, they rarely question Beth's (truly questionable) decisions, don't talk to her about shit like why she's still with her horrible husband and have very few true friendship moments as they did in season 1.

c) Which made it less relatable, but what also contributed was the major plot holes (it's less easy to relate when you're constantly having to remind yourself to suspend your disbelief). And, to be honest, their stupid actions. Just the most common-sense things weren't followed, like not taking your children to a crack den or not putting a hit out on a gang leader. It's frustrating watching a TV show -- where characters are supposed to learn things, have arcs and improve over time -- and feeling like you have more logical sense than all the main characters in every scene. (WHO would think a hitman was going to use a sniper rifle on people in broad daylight on the side of the road???)

d) You don't have to look any further than the title or the stans who shout "THE SHOW IS ABOUT THE GIRLS" -- or, hell, the first 10 seconds of the show where Sara is literally talking about the glass ceiling -- to know that the main characters being women is very important to the show. If not formally feminist, it was at least supposed to be empowering or feel like "girl power" (a term I hate, but we won't get into that now).

And I think it did it pretty well in season 1 -- it actually played on my favourite theme of the show, which is the world's perception of these women being what ultimately allows them to get away with so much. (Rife with opportunities for commentary about white privilege, but also a genius way to upend patriarchal beliefs.) But more and more it seemed like the show was asking you to accept empowerment as simply "these things are being done by women, yay".

And, well.

2. Its marketing

I'll keep this one short because I think we all know how messed up this situation is. Basically they're selling a show (every week!) that they're not making while ignoring all feedback on every social media platform. Which brings us to...

3. The marriage of Death

If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times -- Beth's character development starts with getting rid of Dean. Her growth is stunted by him on multiple fronts and it's frustrating to viewers since she's constantly put forth as the main character. Not to mention how the audience, separately from Beth, was originally conditioned to see Dean as the scum of the earth (think of scenes like him crashing his car because he was perving on a woman jogging) so keeping them together is really... a choice. To actively root for this marriage (which seems like what the show wants, at least for the protracted moment) means either thinking Dean is a great person (which, as I said, we've only seen the opposite of) or believing he's all Beth deserves. Which leads me to...

4. Beth's (socio)path(y)

Is sociopath a 'good' word? Probably not. Have I seen dozens upon dozens of posts talking about whether Beth is one? Yes. And I see it from a huge variety of people -- from viewers who just binged the show last weekend to those who've been watching for years, the question keeps coming up. And I entirely blame the writing of the show that, by the way, I don't believe is deliberately creating Beth to get this reaction. I think she's written (and, to an extent, acted) in a way that is much too aloof and I'm not convinced it's meant to come off as cold and unfeeling as it does. Everything else leads me to believe that the audience is supposed to root for Beth, but it's just so difficult.

Beth does a lot of messed up shit that requires dialogue to sympathise with her and the inner workings of her mind, but in the later seasons Beth rarely gets to express herself verbally. And every time she does get to speak about her emotions, the dialogue is a pick-your-own-adventure between "She's in so much denial", "This person feels no emotions" and "I'll go find an analysis/fic later to explain this" (scenes like "Nothing" or "I was just bored"). Compare and contrast with some of the great scenes in season 1 where she emotes, like her paralysing shock after they first rob the store or admitting she enjoys crime, or (one of my favourites!) the one in the park where she's mimicking the other mothers beside her.

5. Brio

I said in the beginning that I was shocked Rio doesn't get mentioned until this point and that's because I've always felt like he was an integral part of the show. When people say the show is about the girls, they're truncating -- the show is about the girls getting into crime. That crime is represented by Rio over and over again -- they never bring in another criminal at his level (which is another one of its flaws, but that's also a different post); Rio is it.

And though I stand by Rio's importance, the truth is that Brio isn't as essential to the show, by which I mean that if all of the above were done well, it wouldn't be as sorely missed. In lieu of riveting plot, a fun friendship, character development and empowerment, most viewers have glommed onto Brio like a lifeboat (or ship, heh).

Unfortunately it's also what the show has most stubbornly refused to develop significantly.

It's honestly a toss-up for why I feel Brio is a flaw: is the flaw that they got together? That they never got together well enough? That the writing keeps bringing in these 'chemistry-filled' scenes that are ultimately filled with air?

I don't know. Maybe all of them; maybe just one, depending on the day.

6. Its criticism falls flat without intersectionality

This is a big one because Good Girls is *trying* to do something very clever. As mentioned previously, my favourite theme of the show is how the women's apparent innocence/vulnerability in the eyes of society is their biggest strength. The show plays with this and other interesting themes with varying levels of success, but ultimately they all fall a little flat when they don't feel intersectional.

When Ruby gets sidelined. When Turner, who sees and all but calls out by name Beth's privilege, is portrayed as the villain. When Rio is told he's gonna "pop a cap" in his young child's "ass". When the racist grandma becomes a sympathetic character whom we must later grieve. (And she really didn't have to be racist, now that I think about it? It was just that one line for laughs and that was it.) When, despite the real-world implications, Dean can loudly announce in a store that he's buying a gun to kill someone with and the show just glides past it. When Ruby has to grovel for forgiveness from Beth for trying to protect her husband and family from the system, with no acknowledgement from Beth about how their realities are different. When Rhea gets booted off the show as soon as she's done serving Beth's plot. When Rio gets treated like a prostitute for absolutely no reason. (Oh, and is accused of raping Beth and is literally spoken of as an animal and starts only existing in zero dim lighting as a one-dimensional stereotype... the list goes on.)

7. PR/The actors

I'll risk my life here to sprinkle this in because I do think it's a massive problem. The Manny/Christina of it all is just the tip of the iceberg (although wtf Good Girls? There's nothing you could do to get these two into an interview together??). The main actors do the bare minimum to promote the show and it's weird. I also think it's the height of unprofessionalism to keep characters on the show against the wishes of the majority of the audience just because you enjoy their actors (Boomer confirmed; Dean highly suspected). While, on the flip side of the coin, limiting a character's screentime because you aren't best buddies with them. Having less and less Rio when he's such a fan favourite is dumb; as is not including him in any series marketing material. It feels personal and that isn't how a TV show should be run.

8. The entire hair and wardrobe department needs a stern talking-to

[foxghost]

Joyful Reunion, Chapter 95

Translator: foxghost @foxghost tumblr/ko-fi1 Beta: meet-me-in-oblivion @meet-me-in-oblivion tumblr Original by 非天夜翔 Fei Tian Ye Xiang Masterpost | Characters, Maps & Other Reference Index

Book 3, Chapter 21 (Part 5)

If Duan Ling is to think about it, Mu Qing is the one person to whom he’s done the most disservice. With every friend he’s ever made before, both he and the other party had given a part of himself, treated their friendship with sincerity, while Mu Qing is the only one he’s constantly guarded against. If they’d met when they were ten years old, they’d definitely have become the best of friends.

“Master Chang Pin said that Wu Du wants to keep you by his side, and that’s why he said your fortune made you unsuitable for marriage. He doesn’t want you to be taken away by someone else. You’re fully aware that there’s no such thing, don’t you?”

Chang Pin’s eyes are too sharp by far, Duan Ling thinks; when Wu Du said those words that night, Duan Ling truly did not expect them, and therefore Chang Pin had caught his momentary surprise. After that, Duan Ling had carefully dissected it in his head and realised that it’s something he had to declare — otherwise, if the Mus decide they want to form a marriage alliance with him, it would certainly complicate things. Who could guarantee that Mu Kuangda doesn’t have an illegitimate daughter hidden away somewhere out there?

This is only what Mu Qing is voicing aloud, so there must be more information that hasn’t been passed on. Chang Pin wouldn’t have brought up the matter of Duan Ling’s marriageability without cause, so he must have had something to talk about with Mu Kuangda that involved asking Mu Qing questions that he managed to hear him say that.

“Even if that’s true.” Duan Ling gives him a faint smile. “What’s wrong with being with Wu Du?”

That really is what Duan Ling truly believes; no matter what his future path may lead, he’s only going to walk it at Wu Du’s side. He wouldn’t keep to himself, the way his dad did. When he thinks of his father, Duan Ling would go so far as to say that he was already inconceivably strong.

At times, he could relate to Cai Yan. Though they haven’t met face to face after he returned to Jiangzhou, he knows Cai Yan’s fear and trepidation is even more severe than his own, and the only person he could hold on to, the only straw he’s holding onto at the edge of a precipice, is Lang Junxia.

But Mu Qing is feeling quite indignant on Duan Ling’s behalf, believing that Wu Du has tied Duan Ling to himself with a debt of gratitude. But since Duan Ling has put it that way, Mu Qing will stop talking badly about him behind his back. He can but nod and say, “Well, as long as you’re happy.”

Duan Ling smiles, but what surfaces in his mind is another scene altogether — when Mu Qing overheard the conversation between Chang Pin and his father, and filled with indignation, said he’s going to remind Duan Ling, Mu Kuangda must have told him not to say anything as it’d be of no use. Mu Qing didn’t believe him, said it anyway, and this is the predictable result.

I’m a tactful man — Mu Kuangda is always saying that. Duan Ling understands him very well, but alas his son is always quite blunt. Sometimes Duan Ling feels as though he’s far more like Mu Kuangda’s son than Mu Qing, and Mu Qing’s mindset is more like his own father Li Jianhong. Perhaps if they swap their dads around, everything would seem to be a more normal fit.

“What are you smiling at?”

“You’ve grown,” Duan Ling says.

“You make yourself sound so old or something.”

“When I was in Tongguan, I missed you very much.”

Mu Qing says smilingly, “Dad was so busy with the capital relocation that I was about bored to death. I was waiting for you to come back every single day.”

Duan Ling almost didn’t think of Mu Qing at all, he’s only telling him this now in an attempt to make him happy. Wu Du is someone who’d treat him well without knowing who he is, and so is Mu Qing. There’s a world of difference between these two people, however.

Outside, soft powdery snow is falling, and they huddle around a fire pan, not wanting to study at all. Duan Ling thinks he may as well give up, and tosses his books aside. He says to Mu Qing, “Let me take you out somewhere. Where do you want to go?”

Mu Qing would never imagine that the studious Duan Ling would be the one to ask to take him out somewhere. His eyes brighten at once. “Let’s go! I’ll take you somewhere!”

One must stop to smell the flowers every once in a while, and it just so happens that the estate is empty at the moment. Duan Ling quickly puts away their things and goes back to his courtyard house to change his clothes. When he comes out behind Mu Qing, the carriage is stopped right in front of the alley. Duan Ling asks, “Where’re we going?”

“You’ll find out once we get there,” Mu Qing replies and digs around in his waist purse until he finds a plaque. He holds on to the plaque and takes Duan Ling’s hand, giving his own hand warming stove to Duan Ling.

“Who’s there?”

The carriage travels for a while before they’re stopped at a guarded checkpoint. Duan Ling is about to answer, but Mu Qing gestures for quiet and reaches through the curtain to show the guards his plaque. “Me. I’m from the Mu family.”

“Young master of the Mu family.” The guard outside says, “Is it just you?”

“I’m here to see my dad,” Mu Qing says.

The guard hands his plaque back to him and lets the carriage pass. Are we going to the Secretariat? Where Mu Kuangda works? He’s always wanted to see the Office of the Grand Secretariat, and yet Mu Qing still won’t let him talk. It’s not until they pass through several checkpoints, after their carriage has taken many twists and turns, and has come to a stop before Mu Qing tells him, “Alright then, let’s go!”

A light snow is falling, and it is just past noon; everything is a bit damp. When Duan Ling puts his foot on the ground, he realises that he’s in a courtyard, and the walls are as tall as two people stacked on top of each other. It seems to be a rear courtyard.

“What is this place?” Duan Ling asks curiously.

Mu Qing doesn’t say anything. He takes Duan Ling’s hand and starts walking towards the other gate in the courtyard. Duan Ling is asking himself if this is what the Secretariat Office looks like, but that seems less likely with every step. It’s only after they get through a covered gallery and a flower garden that he suddenly realises they’re in the palace!

“The palace?” Duan Ling says, flabbergasted.

“Heheh.” Mu Qing has clearly taken Duan Ling here to stretch his horizons, so of course Duan Ling’s astonishment has made him quite pleased with himself. But he has no idea that to Duan Ling, this novel place he’s never been in, is his actual home.

Duan Ling’s head snaps through a dozen calculations, thinking he’d better not run into Cai Yan right now, but even if he does run into Cai Yan, so what? There’s no way he’d dare commit murder in the palace, would he? The idea makes him both nervous and excited.

Mu Qing looks like he’s lost. “Damn, I forgot we aren’t in Xichuan. How come the Jianzhou palace is so huge? I don’t even know where the path is.”

Duan Ling says, “Don’t panic. We’ll ask someone.”

They spy several guards standing in the winding corridor, and a warrior who seems like a captain of sorts, who’s giving the others instructions, so Duan Ling walks up to them to ask for directions. Yet as soon as the warrior turns around, Mu Qing goes pale with fear and hurriedly waves at Duan Ling while whispering, “Don’t go!”

Alas, though he wonders at Mu Qing’s reaction, Duan Ling is already within the warrior’s line of sight. The man has finished giving his instructions and has noticed Duan Ling.

He’s eight feet tall2 with straight black eyebrows and bright eyes, clad head to toe in black armour, carrying a plain black iron dragon flail.3

Wrapped up in a fur cape, Duan Ling has just come out of his classroom in the chancellor’s estate without having spent any time on his appearance. His hair is casually draping over his shoulders, running down his back, and he has the coral bracelet Mu Qing gave him wrapped around his wrist. As soon as the man sees him, he stops in his tracks, staring at Duan Ling incredulously as though he’s fallen into a dream.

Duan Ling isn’t sure what to make of that, and for a moment remains silent.

The warrior seems lost in thought. Duan Ling raises a hand and waves it in front of his face rather apprehensively.

“You’re …” The warrior says with a frown.

Blowing snow sweeps by them, Duan Ling smiles, straightening his back before he puts one fist in his palm to bow square and properly at the warrior.

In an instant, time turns backwards around them; the snow that covers the earth and sky is drawn away in a flash towards the horizon.

Time flows against the current. The yellow leaves beneath the trees in the palace gardens fly back onto their branches; flowers wither and bloom again, leaves turn yellow then green. Time fluctuates around him and countless images flash by in a blink as though he’s returned to the border, south of the Yellow River.

I live by the north sea and you the south; not even the great goose can carry my letters.

Peach and plum trees in spring breeze, a single cup of wine, sojourns, night rain, ten years beneath a solitary lantern.4

“My name is Wang Shan, Could you tell me in which palace hall the empress resides, please?”

Xie You finally awakens from his memories, and by now Mu Qing has jogged his way over to Duan Ling. He stands behind Duan Ling, and gives Xie You a shy smile. “General Xie, I’m here to … see my aunt.”

“Greetings, General Xie,” Duan Ling hastily adds.

Xie You comes back to the present in a heartbeat, but it’s to fall into an even more prolonged bout of distraction, until a single snowflake lands on Duan Ling’s eyebrow. Duan Ling seems a little lost, and a shallow furrow appears between his brows.

And then Xie You slowly raises a hand to point at the end of the corridor.

Mu Qing and Duan Ling salute immediately to thank him.

Mu Qing says, “Thank you, General Xie.”

“Thank you, General Xie,” Duan Ling repeats.

Mu Qing takes Duan Ling’s hand and runs off as quickly as he can. Still standing in the covered gallery, Xie You is surprised to find he’s momentarily dazzled, overcome with a feeling of vertigo, and his heart feels like it’s been given a dull thump with a hammer.

“That was Xie You,” Mu Qing says to Duan Ling. “Commander of a major army division. The best fighter of Jiangzhou, Defender General of Great Chen.”

Duan Ling is astonished beyond words. Did he recognise me? He probably shouldn’t have been able to recognise me. Even Wu Du and Mu Kuangda didn’t manage to recognise him, so let alone Xie You? He resembles his mother and doesn’t share his father’s features, but that’s somehow become a layer of protection for him.

“He gives off such a killing aura,” Duan Ling says. “The way he was looking at me earlier feels like he was going to kill me.”

“He’s like that with everyone.” Clearly, Mu Qing still remembers the impression he had of Xie You from a year ago. During that summer storm, Mu Kuangda had taken him to Li Jianhong in an attempt to give his son to him as a disciple. Xie You’s might has truly left a deep impression on him.

They make their way to the Palace of Eternal Autumn, only to find that Empress Mu Jinzhi isn’t there. A palace maid staying behind knows Mu Qing though, and smiles at him. “Aiya, what are you doing coming all the way here on your own?”

“Where’s my aunt?”

“She’s in the garden with His Majesty right now.”

Mu Qing asks the maid to find the clothes he keeps in the Autumn Palace, then he and Duan Ling change into them. Duan Ling recalls how Mu Qing’s aunt is Mu Jinzhi — the current empress. That is to say, if he goes over there just like this he’s going to run into Li Yanqiu. As this thought occurs to him, his heart starts beating out of his chest. He’s not even sure how things will turn out if Cai Yan and Lang Junxia also happen to be there.

Wu Du has also come to the palace. Is he here?

“I’d better …” Duan Ling hesitates, “not show my face. I’ll just watch from a distance. You brought me here secretly, and that’s not proper after all.”

“That’s fine. The empress is my aunt, and His Majesty is my uncle. What’s there to be scared of?”

“No no. I’m a bit scared.”

Duan Ling is far more than just a bit scared — to rashly rush his way to Li Yanqiu will create a situation out of his control. As he’s insisting over and over, Mu Qing says, “Well alright, we’ll just watch from a distance, that way I wouldn’t get interrogated either.”

By the time they get to the Imperial Gardens, the snow has stopped. The carved balustrades and flying eaves of the palace are outlined in an even gauze of bright white. When Duan Ling sees what’s happening in the garden, his heart does a little flip. Inside the pavilion are several tables, one person sitting behind a table facing the garden, while the crowd has left a clearing in the garden itself, with quite a few people standing at its edge.

“The one in the middle is His Majesty,” Mu Qing explains, holding Duan Ling by the sleeve, keeping them behind a pillar.

The woman next to Li Yanqiu is of course Mu Jinzhi, and to the left of the seat of the emperor is a young man with an underling behind him, while farther down the line are Mu Kuangda and two more officials.

An envoy dressed in Mongolian clothing is seated in the guest seat to the right.

“The Mongolians are here?” Duan Ling thinks of the coral beads he’s wearing — ah, that fits now.

“Today is the sixth of the twelfth month — the crown prince’s birthday.” The palace maid in charge explains to them, “The Mongolians have sent an envoy with gifts to congratulate him.”

Duan Ling nods, and sees four people standing in the clearing outside the pavilion that are not speaking to one another. They are precisely Chang Liujun, Lang Junxia, Zheng Yan, and Wu Du. Duan Ling spots Wu Du with a single glance, and Wu Du is looking extremely impatient as he stares at the scene with crossed arms.

Two Mongolians are performing a wrestling match for the crown prince. Duan Ling cannot help but remember the wrestling moves Batu taught him when they were at the Illustrious Hall. From what he’s seeing, this isn’t the first time the Mongolians have come to call on Southern Chen’s imperial family.

I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎

The “eight feet tall” was a common description for “tall”. Probably about 185cm. ↩︎

The precursor to the nunchucks. They look like nunchucks, except one of the sticks is about 4x the size of the other one, with a short chain in the middle. It’s an anti-cavalry weapon. ↩︎

Poem by Huang Tingjian, Song dynasty. It was called “To Huang Jifu”, a friend of Huang Tingjian in his youth. What’s implied here is “since we met in spring beneath fruit trees and drank from a single cup, it’s been ten years of wandering alone, moving from place to place, and missing you.” ↩︎

[polar534]

Jersey Stealing Pt.2

Well. You all need to stop liking my stuff. It only encourages me. Anyways, Jersey Stealing is now at a 4 parter so I lied before apparently. I just got done writing part 3 so I’ll post the second part here now! Honestly it’s the most boring of the 4... so... apologies. I’ve said too many numbers now.

Also eventually I’ll learn how tumblr works and actually just... make a master post... or like link back to previous parts. Ah... dreams. Anyways, we meet a new character today. Apologies in advance, this do be the boring part out of the bunch.

***

“Ms. Noceda?”

“Can you tell me about Luz’s classmates?”

The dish dropped from the woman's hands. The sound of it clattering back into the sink echoed throughout the quiet house.

“I’m sorry!” Amity yelped as the sharp sound caused her to wince.

Camilla turned around quickly, holding up her hands with a smile on her face.

“No, no. It’s fine.” Camilla reassured her gently. “The last time I was asked that, it wasn't a pleasant talk.”

“So, it’s not good then.” Amity sank deeper into her seat at the kitchen table.

In all honesty, there was a part of her that already knew that the truth wasn't pretty. It was the same part that caused a painful twist of her heart whenever her girlfriend 'shut down'.

Camilla sighed. She reached over to the counter and grabbed a towel, drying her hands as she sat down on the opposite end of the small table.

"Well, I'm sure I don't need to tell you this but Luz has always been..."

"Odd." Amity finished for her.

The older lady nodded and suddenly the bags under her eyes seemed to darken. Camilla Noceda looked tired.

"At first, it wasn't such a big deal. Every little child starts off 'odd'." Camilla chuckled. "But eventually all the other kids grew up, while Luz's imagination grew wild."

Amity clenched her fists. She knew where this story was going. Knew how easy of a target a girl like Luz was. After all, it wasn't too long ago that she would jump on the 'odd' ones at school.

"She began to make her classmates feel... uncomfortable. Those who didn't go out of their way to avoid her, lashed out, especially because my daughter doesn't exactly know how to take no for an answer."

"That's an understatement." Amity laughed softly as Camilla cracked a small smile.

"Every school we tried her in had it's own problems. Eventually I think Luz finally understood how the other kids felt about her. That was about when we found a school that seemed to work... but of course there were still problems. And there was also Bryce."

Amity's ears twitched. Bryce? Camilla must've noticed her confusion as the older lady lifted her glasses and rubbed her nose tiredly.

"Bryce was, or rather is, a mean kid who thinks he deserves the world. And because he is the 'star athlete' of the school and is well liked by all the teachers... he usually gets it."

Guilt began to twist in Amity's heart. This sounded all too familiar.

"Him and Luz always got into it. He was the only person who ever managed to bother her. Everyone else she simply... ignored."

Camilla sighed heavily and looked at the table. Amity could tell it bothered her, the way Luz was treated. The witch wondered if Camilla was happier now that Luz had found so many friends in another world.

Or if maybe she was still just stuck in the past.

Amity pushed aside her feelings and Camilla's both as she tried to puzzle together what might have happened the other night. If it was just another spat with Bryce, well, Amity saw how Luz used to handle Boscha. That kinda fighting didn't get to her like this...

Even now, 2 days later, it was obvious something was still bothering Luz.

As Amity sat there, sinking further and further into her chair, another question entered her mind. One that she just had to know... even if it was painful.

"Was there anyone?" The witch blurted out after a short pause.

Camilla looked up at her quizzically.

"Anyone who was... nice to Luz? Or at least gave her a chance."

Amity's heart sank as Camilla shook her head sadly.

"I wouldn’t call the girl nice, but Luz always came home gushing about a Sasha. She was a fine enough girl, never joined the other kids in bullying Luz. I think that’s why Luz held on to the hope that one day they could be friends."

***

“Alright. What’s up with Luz?”

Amity turned as the team captain of the Otter’s skated up to her. The witch immediately turned her head back to look at her girlfriend, sitting quietly in the players box, scribbling something in her notebook.

Luz hadn’t moved all practice.

“Yeah, we noticed all right.” Lokte acknowledged Amity’s unspoken question as she turned back to them with a heavy sigh,

“I don’t know.” Amity answered sullenly.

The witch had nothing. Even the answers Camilla gave her this morning didn’t seem to help. Her shoulders slumped as Lokte lined up for their next shot.  

A loud crack echoed around the rink as the puck sailed straight into the goal. Amity’s eyes flicked up once again to Luz. Normally a shot like that would have her out of her seat and cheering.

Instead, the rink remained quiet.

Lokte kicked up some ice as they skidded back around to rest near Amity again. Leaning against their stick, they raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t know?"

"No." Amity growled, digging at the ice with her skates. "And it's getting worse..."

Lokte shifted, tossing their stick in the air flippantly. Amity could tell Luz's behavior was worrying them too. They were anxious to do something.

"All I know is that something happened at our game the other night. Luz ran into her old classmates."

Her captain growled, and Amity knew why. When the team first started to bond with both her and Luz, they wanted to know why they weren't enrolled in any local school. It was a fair question and Luz told them that they were too cool for school. Amity only told the truth to some of her teammates later. About how poorly Luz was treated and how she had decided to be homeschooled when she came back from 'camp'.

Lokte was one of the more vocally upset ones, having been treated similarly themselves for being who they were. Amity watched as their face changed into a slightly more hopeful expression.

"Wait, you said this happened the other night? My brother goes to Luz's old school, he went to the game with a couple of his friends. I'll bother him about it when I get home. See if the little weasel heard anything." Lokte grinned.

Amity could only stare at them, she glanced back up to Luz as her fingers curled tighter around her stick.

"Try to get names for me. I understand if Luz doesn't want to talk, but I'm looking forward to having a... conversation... with whoever is responsible for this."

Amity felt a gloved hand on her shoulder. Turning around she saw was met with the supportive eyes of her team captain.

"I'll let you know as soon as I know." They nodded.

***

- Is Luz home?

- Yeah she's asleep. Why?

- I'm coming over.

Amity stared at her phone. The short conversation with Lokte happened only a few minutes earlier. She didn't know where they lived, or how they knew where she lived. The witch could only guess it had to do with her girlfriend who was currently passed out, snoring, on her lap. Amity dropped the phone to her side and let her face sink into Luz's hair. In the background she could hear the movie that they had put on earlier, but she couldn't care less about it at the moment.

Amity loved the end of every night, when she was finally able to have Luz all to herself. Squeezing the human ever tighter, Luz sleepily snuggled further into her girlfriend’s arms with a large smile on her face.

The witch sighed as she heard a buzzing come from nearby. It was her phone. She felt a sharp flicker of annoyance, before gently kissing Luz's forehead and leaning back to check it.

Swiping across the screen she answered the call.

"Hey. I'm out front. You're going to want to hear this." Lokte voice answered, their tone guarded.

Amity glanced down at Luz who was still snoring away.

"Alright, give me a moment." Amity told them quietly, hanging up.

Taking a deep breath, she shifted Luz aside her on the couch. Her girlfriend groaned softly, but Amity simply grabbed the blanket and pulled it up to tuck her in, silencing any sleepy protest that would follow. Leaning down she swiped her jersey off the floor and gave it to Luz. For being almost entirely asleep, Luz snatched it quickly from Amity's hands, relaxing back into sleep as she buried her face into the material.

Amity smiled softly. She already couldn't wait to get back under the blankets with her. Grabbing a coat from the front closet, the witch opened the door and slipped out into the night. Standing on the front lawn, Lokte held a squirming kid by the ear.

"Come on, let me go already!!"

"Tell her what you told me!" Lokte ordered sharply, letting the boy's ear go and shoving him forward.

Amity raised an eyebrow. This must've been the little brother.

"Fine. Yeesh! Like I told my sibling over here," the boy turned around to glare at the hulking figure of Lokte before turning back to Amity, "I went to the game with a group of my friends. Sasha and Bryce left to go grab some snacks and when they came back Sasha was really shaken up and Bryce was pissed. They told us something about a really creepy delusional girl who was stalking you. Claiming to be your girlfriend."

Amity's eyes narrowed.

"I don't see why I'm in trouble! We were just watching out for Amity. I mean Bryce usually over exagerrates everything but this was serious. Sasha looked genuinely freaked out, and nothing EVER gets to her. They told the girl that they would call the cops on her if she came near you and then we left shortly after. That's it. That's all that happened. I don't even know what the creep looked like."

Amity's mind was buzzing with anger. She could feel her face going red and had to remind herself to breathe as she heard the two siblings begin to squabble.

"You little, THAT WAS LUZ! Amity's actual girlfriend!"

The boy's eyes widened as they shot between Amity and Lokte.

"Wha- I didn't, I didn't know that!! I swear! The way Bryce was describing her you'd think she was some sort of criminal!" He yelped as Lokte grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket.

"Go. Wait. In. The. Car." They growled. "We'll talk about your choice in friends later."

The boy shrank under his sibling's glare and Amity felt a small bit of pity. Lokte was no small person, they towered over pretty much everyone they met and had the muscles to match. Being on their bad side had to be terrifying, but in actuality that was nothing compared to the pure fury radiating off of Amity as the brother's words registered.

After they watched their brother climb back into the car, Lokte turned to Amity and immediately flinched in fear under the witch's furious stare.

"Looks like I'll be paying Luz's old school a visit tomorrow." Amity growled after a short pause.

Lokte's fear eased only a bit as their eyes lit up with mischief. "Let me know if you need anything."

"I'll see you tomorrow at practice." Amity nodded, ignoring the suggestion as she turned to walk back into the house.

She stopped with her hand on the door handle and turned around. Lokte was climbing back into their car. The teammates shared a look as Amity nodded.

'Thank you.' She mouthed.

Lokte gave her a small smile.

'Anytime.' They mouthed back, turning on the car and pulling away.

When Amity went back inside, she crawled back into Luz's arms, squeezing her close. Tomorrow, she would have to talk with Luz about what she had learned, but tonight?

Tonight Amity buried her head deep into Luz's shoulder, her anger draining rapidly under her girlfriend's warmth.

Regardless of how Luz was always somehow able to relax her, Amity laid there wide awake. Wishing she could do something, anything, to somehow fix the years of emotional abuse Luz had suffered.

All she could do however was hold Luz closer and wait until morning...

[fandomscombine]

TUA SERIES PART 4: Diego

The Hargreeves Kerfuffle Part 4:Diego

The Hargreeves siblings x Hargreeves!Reader (Familial Relationship)

BG: The Reader is Number Eight. It follows how you fit into the structure of Season 1 and the family dynamic of the siblings.  

This part follows y/n blowing off some steam with Diego being a supportive brother.

You don’t have to read every single part as each focuses on the reader’s relationship with each of her sibings.

But of course to get most of the story, read the whole thing. Besides why would you want to miss out on Hargreeves Siblings content?

A/n: sorry if this took long to update, I lost the master copy of the fic document- well technically, I was and am typing this on an auto-save document but it had glich somehow and when I searched and open the file it was only the first 2 parts. It took a while to find back the most updated document.

WC:1028

DISCLAIMER: I DON’T OWN THE TUA SERIES. THIS IS JUST BY A FAN WOULD REALLY ENJOYED THE SERIES AND WAS INSPIRED TO WRITE.

*ALSO NOT PROOFREAD

>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<

>>THE HARGREEVES KERFUFFLE SERIES MASTERLIST<<

READ: [PART 1]   [PART 2] [PART 3]

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

Your blood was boiling.

How dare Luther, your own brother accuse you of killing your own father.

Sure, your childhood wasn’t exactly the healthiest and emotionally suitable for a child but in a weird way your father had shape and trained the 7 of you to be at least somewhat in control of your powers.

Raising superpowered children is no small task.

Lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized how far from the academy you had walked.

You stared at the city Harborview, imaging how your life would be different if you hadn’t had these powers.

Peace. That’s what you think you would have. A sense of peace, living a normal daily life- get up, go to work, hang out with friends, sleep in a nice cosy apartment and repeat. No powers.

The final words of Sir Reginald replays in your mind.

‘The end is near, get the others ……and save…..the…..tttiiiimmm’

The end is near, get the others and save the tim- whatever or whoever tim is.

You assumed that it meant his time was up and had wanted the family back together. You had done just that but what had that got you? Indictment for one. A family reunion consisting of 5 emotionally incompetent adults and one trapped in a kid’s body.

Leaning across the railing you shouted. ‘Cosplaying as batman at aged 6 was cute but as a grown ass adult lurking in the shadows is definitely a red flag!’

A chuckle sounded from the corner. ‘Noted m’mam. Will not do it again’ said a deep voice.

To an untrained ear, no sounds of footsteps could be heard.

You, however can as do your siblings. All of who can also identify who is coming based on the sound- each ever have a slight variation, a unique touch.

Luther has the heaviest, loudest footsteps out of everyone.

Allison- quiet and delicate.

Diego has a sense of purpose in his walk- no doubt like the secret agent and superheroes he had always wanted to be.

Klaus is a bit unpredictable; it is either too fast and energetic or soft and slow pace.

Five. He cheats, mostly blipping in and out of places. But if need be, he usually takes leaps or huge steps, always ready to teleport out of any situation in midstep.

Ben. The master of stealth. He always manages to take the least steps, the most effective route between hiding points.

Vanya though without training is actually very good. At times you wouldn’t even notice her near as proven in her countless times secretly watching the rest of you training.

‘I doubt that.’ Turning to face the new arrival. ‘You are the literally embodiment of Vigilante Hero Complex.’

The city lights illuminating his face.

‘Ah! Case in point!’ You pointed at his outfit. ‘You’re even wearing a spandex suit, Diego!’

Diego shook his head, brushing off your teasing aside. He was happy to at least help bring a smile onto your face- even if it was at his expense.

‘How you feeling?’ Even though you all were the same age, Diego can’t deny that the numbering hadn’t had an older sibling protectiveness to come over him- especially when Luther was being a total dick. If only he was in charge, he thought.

‘Better… better now that you’re here.’ You admitted, bothering your brother never gets old. ‘Thanks by the way-for the cheer up.’

You both stayed in comfortable silence it was not until 20 mins later did Diego break it by apologising.

‘Sorry for what?’

He didn’t reply instead he lifted something out of his pocket. It shone against the deep blue waves.

You gasped. ‘Dad’s monocle.’

‘I know Luther believes you took it.’ He let out an exasperated sigh. ‘I’m sorry. I should’ve have confessed instead you took blame for me….’

Wrapping his fist around it he continued, voice getting harsher. ‘I …I just couldn’t you know? After all he did to us? How he treated us? We were just kids!’

He clutched it tighter shattering the glass. ‘He was gone. This was the most valuable things he had- never let it out of his sight….so I thought that this….that by taking this, it would be the closest thing in ever hurting him.’

‘Oh Diego…’ You didn’t know how to comfort someone who is going through the same scenario, a same situation that you yourself need help on.  ‘Dad is gone and…yes he wasn’t the most caring father. But the past is in the past, the only thing we can do now to move forward. Don’t let that define us. Strive to do better.’

‘We tried that once remember? And where did it get us?’ He countered.

‘Better than if we were to have stayed.’ You rebutted. ‘C’mon Diegs. Think about mom. Think about how she constantly reminds us to put our best foot forward, no matter what life throws at us..’

Diego’s face softens, he was always a momma’s boy.

Closing his eyes, he mutters an okay. Then he tosses the bloody cracked monocle into the water. ‘Now, why don’t we go stuff our faces full of donuts.’ You offered. ‘I can handle your typical brooding self but the 2 of us sulking? No can do, what we need is to eat our feelings.’

‘Giddy’s it is.’ Replied Diego, offering you his arm.

‘So I assume you parked 2 blocks from here?’

His eyes went wide. ‘How’d you-‘

‘PPPPlease!’ Rolling your eyes. ‘I might have subconsciously wander to this part of town, but I was conscious about a car not so subtly tailing me for 6 blocks.’

‘So you knew I was watching you from the very beginning.’

‘YUPPPP’ Popping the p. ‘At first I wasn’t sure who- nice car by the way, new?

‘A month ago.’

‘Anyway is wasn’t until you started following on foot til I knew.’

Elaborating when you saw his confused look. ‘You walk as if you’re the protagonist in an action film.’

‘I do not!’ He said defensively.

‘DO too!- Thanks.’ Settling down onto the passenger seat as Diego closed the door.

The debate lasted until you reach Giddy’s or so what was left of the store.

‘WHAT THE-‘

END OF PART 4

READ: [PART 1]   [PART 2] [PART 3]

Taglist [All]: @gruffle1

Taglist [TUA]:@herecomesthesun1969 @alabaster1223 @ultraviolet-m @winterierwriter @lordofthunderthr @grapesauze @xbarrjallenx @white-wolf-buckaroo @yoheyyosup @infinitystones2018 @94seun @buckynatlarry @thegirlwholikestomanythings @just-some-stars @97yrm @2cuteforyourlies @e-bendy @criminallyhamilton @aqarath @change-the-world-someday @sambucky8 @spankin-soda @big-galaxy-chaos @neenieweenie @okimreadynow @weird-pale-blonde-person @thebloodrobin @vicassa​@tkdcnlettuce @alexander-hamilhoe​

Feel free to tell me to you want to be tagged for the series or for all/any other of my fics.

Would love to hear your opinion on the series so far too!

 -Posting this a 2nd time, cause the 1st Tumblr error-ed out and deleted it.

also a bit of self plug here, i have a writing challenge going on and I’d love for you to join!

[kitkatopinions]

I’m probably over thinking/over complicating things but Ironwood and Penny have been really bothering me. It because prior to the moment that destroyed Penny’s arc the show and Ruby were really pushing that Penny not matter her body was human and that’s a very positive I like that especially when it comes to characters of Penny’s nature.

So my problem kicks in when I think of Ironwood. Namely this part in his song:

“What if it's true as they say

That I don't have a heart

That I'm more a machine than a man?”

Like wtf. I mean I “get it” especially with that dumbass line of Winter. But when it’s talked about Ironwood it was always in reference to the fact that his body is half robotic and there for we are meant to see the correlation between his body and his character.?

Put next to Penny’s message that really bothers me. Even more so since Penny gets a “reward” of becoming human, but the writers push that Ironwood sacrificing his arm to stop Watts and replacing it (a medical decision that could be debated given that he wanted to be up and able immediately to handle things not to mention that fact that nerves and muscle are severely fucked up) with a new (uncharacteristically uncovered) prosthetic means that he’s moving away from humanity. This thought has been driving nuts for a week.

I don’t think you’re overthinking at all. The writers have been pretty blatant about what they think of disabled people.

On the topic of James, 1. They wrote their triple amputee character to be coded as losing his humanity. This is suspect from the get go, but writers imo need to be especially careful and sensitive when they display things like villains with prosthetics. CRWBY is not careful and sensitive. 2. They specifically connected the loss of his limb to the loss of his humanity outside of the show, and as you said, his new prosthetic is uncharacteristically uncovered as well, and there were some pointed shots showcasing his arm and emphasizing it before showing Ironwood doing something wrong as well as a shot that particularly bothered me of them having James fall to Winter when his aura broke and then them immediately flashing to a fallen, broken robotic soldier. Tying the loss of someone’s humanity to them losing a limb / gaining a prosthetic in any way is wrong imo. There are better ways to display someone’s loss of humanity than villainizing the loss of his arm, and I don’t care what justifications people have for ‘they just meant to say that he was too impatient to-’ Idc. Tying the loss of humanity to the gaining of a prosthetic is wrong. 3. They never once treated Ironwood’s clear PTSD, history of mental health problems, and trauma with any sympathy, instead spending their time ragging on him for not wanting to feel his pain anymore and condemning him for... Trying to control his emotions. 4. CRWBY also gave him a semblance and explained how it worked by saying he hyper focused, talking about how James’ passive semblance that he can’t control forces him to focus on one single goal and fixate. I’m not disabled, but I do hyper fixate. It’s not something I can control, and to see it used as a justification for evil (in one of my favorite characters in the series who reminded me of my father lol) and being treated as something bad... It doesn’t feel good. I can’t imagine how other people must feel who are much more affected by this than I am. 5. As you say, the writers go out of their way to reference his metal body as being more ‘machine than man’ and make lines about him being heartless. And yeah, I get that he’s an allegory for the ‘Tin Man’ from Wizard of Oz but ffs the Tin Man had always had a heart and I honestly thought that was what they were going for in V3 with Qrow commenting that sometimes he thought James didn’t have a heart and the audience seeing Ironwood’s actions as questionable, only for the entire show to tell us repeatedly that he actually is a caring and good person who’s willing to destroy all the forces he was proud to show off if it means saving lives and was actually pretty freaking blameless in the Fall of Beacon and was super kind to the kids and when the chips were down, Qrow and Glynda both absolutely knew without even questioning that James would never ever willingly hurt the world or fully betray them and had absolutely no hand in the Beacon attack. Like, I’m sorry, but between Penny and Ironwood, season eight is the season of taking well done character allusions and throwing them out the window for the exact opposite moral done incredibly poorly. And anyway, getting off of that rant, making a ‘more machine than man’ sentiment tied around a triple amputee character is incredibly harmful and hurtful to people with disabilities and only propagates the real world stereotypes against people like James.

So, yes, their treatment of Ironwood, his mental health, and specifically his disabilities was so badly done, harmful, incredibly insensitive, and frankly, appalling that it came from grown adult writers in 2019-2021! But, as you point out, it’s not just Ironwood. And here’s where things really get bad for CRWBY. Because Ironwood alone is enough for me to say they were ableist - unintentionally or otherwise - and ought to apologize for the hurt they’ve caused their fans. But when you get into the rest of their treatment of characters with metal prosthetics or non-flesh elements to their body, it becomes a pattern.

Penny’s entire body is removed from her on threat of death, with the justification that it’s hurting her and that her body is just a machine and not part of who she is, contradicting Penny’s earlier themes of self-acceptance and validating her humanity in the body she already had. She then dies by assisted suicide in a way that feels unneeded, after having asked to be killed earlier in the narrative. So many people have talked about how destructive her story became in V8 and how it personally hurt them, especially non-binary people, trans people, autistic people, or disabled people who saw themselves in Penny or saw in her arc something that they could relate to, only to have Penny’s differences stripped away from her, having her conform to normal body standards and have her previous body type invalidated by her friends, and then they had her killed via assisted suicide in an unbelievable way, insisting as well that she never made a choice before she was a flesh-person and couldn’t feel things right. It’s all horribly done, but it’s important to remember that while Ironwood is accused of losing his humanity as he loses a third limb and gets a third prosthetic, Penny’s earlier validation is taken away and is instead only granted and she is only justified as a person when she loses all her ‘nuts and bolts’ and becomes a flesh person. And then she’s killed anyway.

Yang’s prosthetic is the least ill handled, but it is still dismissed as ‘just extra’ despite her former fairly strong arc of coming to terms with her disability and making it a part of her. She casually justifies what’s happening with Penny despite Penny not being in a position of adequate consent. Yang’s trauma and PTSD also vanished when Adam died at the end of season six and in my opinion, that situation was handled very badly.

Maria and Pietro, two other disabled characters, disappeared, left when Amity fell and were not even mentioned iirc since. Not even when Penny is awake, not even when they’re evacuating, not even when Penny is choosing to die. She never brings up her father. And Ruby’s supposed ‘mentor’ who never had an actual narrative role that couldn’t have been filled by Qrow and has had nothing to do since season six even past that is also forgotten out in the tundra and not mentioned again.

The writers go out of their way to have Winter say that because she was just following orders (a statement that contradicts her previous character imo) and pushing down her emotions, she was the real machine, whereas Penny had been human underneath her apparently easily tossed aside and destructive previous metal body.  And I don’t know if this means anything, but in that scene where she and Penny meet when Penny is dying and transferring the maiden powers to Winter, Winter is in her V7 character design, instead of wearing her assistive brace. Like I said, I don’t know if I’m reading into that, but with everything else, it feels like an iffy choice.

So yeah. In the past season CRWBY specifically cultivated a pattern of disrespect, dismissal, and villainization of any non-flesh attributes in my opinion. It seems pretty intentional and clear to me, but I’m willing to accept that maybe this was just a wildly bad uneducated mistake. Here’s the thing about that, though, after the Faunus/Racism allegory, the CRWBY writers should’ve learned their lesson and not touched on any real world topics that they weren’t willing to do the research on and treat with the sensitivity and care and respect the topics needed. Their Faunus/Racism allegory was harmful and hurtful and frankly could’ve sunk them in the water, they should’ve learned to put much more care and effort into their work or stayed the hell away from anything that could further spread the negative stereotypes surrounding real world people. But they didn’t learn their lesson and they’ve continued to push harmful narratives with no awareness or sensitivity. I don’t think you’re over-reacting at all, I think this is something that - intentionally written or otherwise - the writers should be called out on, or they’re just going to continue writing harmful narratives.

Also, I am not disabled, many of my opinions on the treatment of these characters comes from posts I’ve seen from many disabled or neurodivergent RWBY fans (or former RWBY fans,) or other people more affected by these narratives - minus the thing I said about Winter appearing without her brace when she talks to Penny, as it was something I just noticed while typing out this post. Since I’m not disabled, I’m not the best person to talk about these things, so if I got anything wrong in this, anyone more affected, please know you can let me know and I can edit and fix.

[notveryglittery]

birthday prince (3)

summary: virgil decides roman deserves a day off.  words: 2,100 / ship: prinxiety (roman/virgil) author’s note: this is part three of my Giving The Gay Anything He Wants series for roman’s birthday (june 4)! all ships are written implied romantic but i’m not stopping you from interpreting it otherwise. check the end notes on ao3 for credit on these gifts (bc i don’t know where to put them in this post)! i hope you enjoy!!

part 1 (roceit) | part 2 (logince) | part 3 (prinxiety) part 4 (royality) | part 5 (dlampts)  read on ao3

— — —

“Best two out of three.”

“I thought this was a birthday gift!”

“Yes and?”

“So why don’t I automatically get to pick the first movie?”

“Because I know you’re on a princess kick and full offense, if I have to deal with a talking animal as the comedic relief sidekick, I might actually die.”

“... Okay. Fine, okay, that’s fair.”

“On shoot.”

One, two, three, shoot — Virgil’s scissors versus Roman’s paper meant that the birthday boy did, in fact, not get to pick the first movie. He feigned upset for only a few moments longer before flopping back into their pillow fort. He supposed, given all the hard work Virgil had put into this, he could put up with one non-princess Disney film.

Earlier in the day, Virgil had rather unceremoniously kicked Roman out of his own room, claiming he had something important to do. Were it not for how close they’d grown, Roman would have been upset and suspicious; he trusted Virgil now, though, and knew that nothing would go wrong. He’d spent an hour playing cards with Logan and Patton before Virgil shouted for him from upstairs. When he’d arrived back to his room, it looked almost unrecognizable. It was mostly illuminated by fairy lights, providing a cozier feel than what he was used to; the floor to ceiling windows looked out into a rainy forest instead of the usual rolling hills; his bed had been turned into a truly impressive collection of blankets, pillows, cushions, and stuffed animals. The canopy had been removed which bothered him a little but only until he realized the projector that had been set up, pointing at the ceiling. There was a basket at the foot of the bed, filled with snacks and bottled drinks. Roman figured they could stay here for the next twenty four hours and be perfectly fine.

Surrounded by what was possibly every soft thing to be found in the Mindscape, Roman clutched Mrs. Fluffybottom to his chest as Virgil got the movie set up. She’d been his favorite plushie for the entirety of his existence; he’d taken her on many adventures over the years but she’d comforted him through a number of breakdowns too. He swore there was actually something magical about her.

Virgil threw himself down next to Roman; he had swapped out his usual hoodie for one that was fully dark purple and had even longer sleeves. After Roman had stopped gawking around his room, Virgil had tossed a sweater at him. It was so bright it was practically neon but it was rainbow print and he loved it. He’d immediately changed out of his t-shirt and had grabbed Virgil in a tight hug. Roman definitely intended on starting a sweater paw fight at some point during their movie marathon.

“You good with Hercules?”

“No comedic relief sidekicks, huh?”

“Phil is not a sidekick!”

“What? Are you trying to tell me right now that Philoctetes is a main character? You can’t say he isn’t comedic relief! He gets hurt just for laughs way too often!”

“No! I mean. Maybe?”

Roman laughed, bumping his shoulder against Virgil’s. “Whatever, you dork. Of course I’m good with it. You could have picked The Black Cauldron and I would’ve been good.”

“Talking animal. Comic relief. Sidekick. Gurgi checks all of those boxes. I would’ve been going against my own word.”

“Hmm, fair,” Roman said, humming a little.

As the Muses began singing them through the opening, Roman took a moment to appreciate everything Virgil was doing for him. The basket of goodies was stocked with every one of Roman’s favorite snacks, including enough chocolate to make him sick. In fact, it’d been the first thing he’d decided on, before Virgil could even tell him what the plan for the day was. Not that it was really much of a plan, anyway. Today specifically had been set aside just for Virgil to spoil Roman however he wanted. That apparently meant marathoning Disney movies, napping as much as they pleased, and eating all the junk food they wanted. It was a far cry from how Roman usually spent his time; what with all of the projects he was constantly juggling, or the content he had to help Thomas produce, or the issues to take care of in the Fantasy Realm. He didn’t really realize even how hard he was always working.

Apparently, however, Virgil had.

Something was shoved into his face, startling him out of his thoughts. He shot a glare at Virgil, who was watching the movie and acting totally inconspicuous. The item turned out to be a stuffed dragon, one he didn’t recognize from his usual pile of plushies. The scales were shimmery, a nice ombre of purple and blue shades, the wings were tucked against the body, and… Holding his hand against the stomach was warmer than the rest, as if it had a belly full of fire. That was so cool! He squeezed it tight in his arms and went back to watching the movie, feeling even comfier than before.

With the credits rolling, Virgil ushered them both out of bed and into a couple minutes of stretching.

“I’m not having you complain to me later on when your bones start creaking.”

“You make it sound like I’m so old, Virgil!”

“Older than me,” Virgil teased. He ducked out of the way of a thrown cushion. “Oh, is that what we’re doing?!”

Roman took a face full of pillow and suddenly it was on. He couldn’t begin to guess how long they fought for, darting around the room and over the bed, swinging their feather-filled weapons at each other. He did know that by the time he collapsed on the floor, he was breathless with laughter. Virgil was so far gone that he’d dissolved into alternating between wheezes and complete silence. Eventually, they did manage to get back into their nest of blankets, though there was plenty of shoving, poking, and tickling as they did so.

“I dunno if I’ll make it through this next movie so pick one that I won’t mind falling asleep during.”

“You besmirch the name of Disney if you think there’s a single film boring enough to allow that!”

“You dozed off the first time we watched The Good Dinosaur.”

Roman spluttered. “I had just come back from a week-long quest! And that’s Pixar!”

Virgil actually cackled. “You can’t pull that excuse! Disney owns Pixar!”

“Stop bullying me,” Roman cried, “it’s my birthday!”

“It’s two days before your birthday, actually, so I can bully you all I like.”

“I’m picking The Black Cauldron, then! See how you like dozing off during your favorite movie.”

It perhaps hadn’t been his best choice. With Virgil snuggled into his side, warm and soft, the sound of his even breathing accompanying the utter lack of any songs… Well, Roman really didn’t last much longer. They found each other in the Dreamscape. Edges were fuzzy, sounds were muffled, and touch was electric. The Dream Palace was a blurry shape in the distance, attracting his attention every so often when its crystal spires caught the light. Virgil sort of just appeared, as if created from the colors of the setting sun. Roman had a feeling he was made of the field of flowers he’d woken up in.

“I like it here,” Virgil said, sitting down next to Roman.

“Remy does a nice job with it,” Roman agreed, slowly picking daisies and dandelions to weave into a crown.

“You do, too,” Virgil argued. “You have a hand in almost everything, you know.”

Roman frowned at him. “I do not.”

“Yes, Ro,” Virgil insisted, “you do. The Memory Archives look the way that they do because you and Logan watched one episode of Doctor Who together and had the inspiration to redesign.”

Roman chuckled, a little nervously. “I guess.”

“Memory Lane doesn’t hurt Patton because it knows better than to hurt anyone you love. It might be connected to him and his room, but you’re the one that created that safety net.”

“Virgil…” Roman tried, voice slightly strangled.

“I just need you to know how important you are. You aren’t told enough.”

“It’s fine—”

“You’re important, Roman. You matter. You make a difference.”

Roman finally stopped trying to tie together the stems of the flowers. Virgil took his shaking hands into his own and held them tightly. It was just enough that Roman could actually feel it versus the tingly sensation that the Dreamscape normally worked with.

“We love you. We appreciate you and your hard work.”

If it weren’t for that everything around them was already blurry, Roman might not have noticed his vision swimming when tears filled his eyes. It was hard to not know suddenly that he was crying, though, regardless of how physically present he was in this space.

Virgil let go of his hands and instead, cradled his face gently. “I know I go against you sometimes but in the long run, I want you to be just as happy as you make the rest of us.”

He waited a moment longer before smiling and squishing Roman’s cheeks. Roman giggled a bit in response. Virgil gave him two careful pats before pulling away. Picking up the flower crown Roman had abandoned, he set to work on finishing it. Roman wiped his tears away and sat still in the sunshine, content to simply let himself soak it up until he was completely warm from the inside out.

When they woke, the screen projected onto the ceiling was displaying a screensaver of 3D pipes. The forest outside the windows had been replaced with a cliffside view of the ocean. Virgil stirred next to him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He absentmindedly pressed a kiss to Roman’s cheek before getting out of bed. He was gone for a little while, during which Roman found two more plushies that he didn’t recognize. They were a gryphon and a lion, both extremely soft to the touch, and with fierce expressions that reminded Roman of how Virgil looked when he was in fight mode. He wondered how these new stuffed animals kept sneaking into his collection but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

When Virgil returned, Roman burst into laughter, because yes, he supposed there was no chance of sneaking that one into the pile.

“There won’t be any room for me in bed, Virgil!”

“Guess you better get used to sleeping on the floor then,” Virgil said, dropping the massive Simba plushie on top of Roman.

This just made Roman laugh harder. The fabric on this one was fluffier than on the others, something he could sink his fingers into if he wanted. It was nearly as big as him, or maybe it just felt like that right now since it was smothering him. Before he could move it, though, Virgil sank himself down onto it as well.

“Virgil!!” Roman gasped between snickers. “Get off, you fiend!”

“Hmm…” Virgil hummed, pondering. From where he was laying, he could just barely look directly into Roman’s eyes. This made it all the funnier when he finally decided, in the most deadpan tone, “nah.”

After some wrestling, which led to them both falling out of bed and Roman bumping his elbow and howling for five minutes about his funny bone before Virgil kissed it better, they were finally settled back in to continue their movie marathon.

They watched Moana, Tarzan, and, Mary Poppins before sleep began to take them once more. Seeing as the sun had sunk below the sea quite some time ago, it was safe to assume it was late enough to call it a night.

“I got you…” Virgil paused to yawn. “Got you one more thing…”

“Vee—”

“‘S not much.” He held out Mrs. Fluffybottom for Roman to take. “I just… I made it so that she can never be hurt.”

For a moment, Roman’s lethargy was chased away by astonishment and surprise. He could feel the enchantment just from holding her, though it was passing by the second as the magic was fully absorbed.

“I know you… take her on adventures a lot. Fightin’ bad guys ‘n stuff.” Virgil shifted further into the blankets as sleep continued to take hold on him. “Wanna keep her safe. Know you will, anyway. But jus’ in case.”

Roman rolled onto his side so that he was facing Virgil. He kept the bunny plush tucked between them and took one of Virgil’s hands in his. “Thank you…”

“Love you. Happy birthday, princey,” Virgil told him, papping him once more on the cheek.

Sleep settled over them quickly after. Roman would wake in the morning, feeling more secure and warm than he had in quite some time, surrounded by plushies and Virgil’s arms, and know that he had so much to be grateful for.

[quickspinner]

Month of Miracles Day 4 - In the spirit

Find the prompt list here!

She’s an aspiring fashion designer with big dreams and a broken heart. He’s a burned out rock star that just wants something to believe in again. Together, they’ll discover the true meaning of Christmas.

My mom plays hallmark movies constantly when we’re all home for Christmas, because “they’re Christmasy and nobody can argue about them,” so this one is an homage to my mom. I might actually revisit it for tomorrow’s theme, we’ll see. 😂

ETA: What have I done...this has become a whole series! Check out the other parts:

Hallmark Movie AU Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 (end) | Read Month of Miracles on AO3

Stupid, Marinette fumed as she climbed out of her car. Stupid Audrey and her stupid insane work schedule and her stupid criticism, stupid Adrien and his stupid handsome face and his stupid perfect new girlfriend, and stupid Maman sending her off to grandma’s like she was still a little kid—and stupid grandma, not even being here! 

And stupid Rose, being all sweet and friendly and nice and showing her around town, being so kind and making it so Marinette couldn’t say no when Rose asked her to go pick out a Christmas tree for the library, because for some reason the little town library couldn’t possibly just use a fake tree like every other library in the world and besides, Marinette, it’ll do you some good to get in the spirit! Slow down from that crazy city pace! 

She stalked up the stupid hill, looking around at the stupid—well, she couldn’t call it a forest because forest trees didn’t grow in straight lines. This wasn’t a forest, she reminded herself, it was a farm, a Christmas tree farm, and it looked huge to her city-slicker eyes. 

Well, she was here. Now what was she supposed to do?

“Does anybody actually work here?” Marinette muttered irritably, glaring up at the tree nearest her.

“Can I help you?” a dry voice asked from right behind her, and Marinette whirled to find a tall man with dark hair standing there. He tossed his head slightly, knocking his bangs back out of surprisingly blue eyes that quickly darted over her. When she said nothing, he cocked an eyebrow at her, sticking his thumbs in his pockets. 

“Oh,” she gasped. “Hi. My name’s M-M-Marinette? Um. I’m looking for a Christmas tree?”

“Well, you’re in the right place,” the man drawled, eyes flicking to the rows of trees beside him. “Any particular kind?”

“Uh…” Marinette blinked, not even knowing what her options were. 

The second eyebrow joined the first, and the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. Marinette felt a flush of embarrassment, and maybe something else. He’d be cute if he wasn’t laughing at her. He got his expression under control quickly though and suggested mildly, “Maybe a size?” 

“Oh,” Marinette thought back to the curtains in the library. They looked like 95 inches which meant the ceiling was probably 10 feet, and they’d need clearance for the topper... “Between eight and nine feet?” she guessed. 

The man gave her a customer service smile and tilted his head. “Follow me.” 

Marinette did, trying to keep up with his longer legs without twisting an ankle or tripping over a tree root. “You down from the city?” he asked casually as she trailed after him through the trees. 

“Yes,” Marinette replied distractedly. “Apparently I’m stressed,” she made a face. “So my mother told my Nonna Gina I’d watch her place while she’s out of the country. She thought it would do me some good to get away for awhile.” She shut her mouth quickly, realizing that he probably didn’t want to hear her whole life story.

“Gina Dupain?” he asked, and Marinette blinked.

“Yes, you know her?” 

“Yeah, she’s friends with my mom. Quite a character,” he grinned, and stopped, turning to face her. “Funny, you don’t seem like her at all.” 

Marinette huffed and rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure whether that’s a compliment or not.” 

The man laughed, and she felt a little warm. It was a nice laugh. 

“Neither am I,” he chuckled. “Gina’s a character.” He gestured to the trees beside him. “All the ones on this row and the next are between eight and nine feet. Douglas on this end, blue spruce down there, and Frasier fir towards the back.” 

He was smiling for real when he looked back at her, and Marinette blinked. Something about that smile and the tilt of his head and way his hair fell—although it was all black instead of tipped with color the way it had been the last time she’d seen one of his posters—   

“Wait, you’re—” Marinette’s eyes swept over him again, in disbelief this time, over the plaid shirt visible under his open coat, down to the tattered, frayed cuffs of his clearly ancient jeans hanging over stained boots. Still, when her eyes found his face again, there was no doubt. “You’re Luke Stone!”  

His smile turned brittle. “It’s Luka Couffaine, actually. Luke Stone doesn’t exist anymore.”

“Luka!” a deep but clearly female voice bellowed from somewhere beyond the lines of trees.

“Be right there, Ma!” Luka shouted back. He looked back at her and smirked. “I’ll send someone to check on you in a few minutes. See you around, M-M-Marinette.”

Marinette blushed at the tease, pouting. “Jerk,” she muttered under her breath, putting her nose in the air with a little sniff. “As if I have time for all this Christmas stuff anyway. I’m just going to pick a stupid tree and go.” She turned and faced the row of trees with determination...and then slumped, her frustrated breath coming out in a cloud of white. “Stupid Rose,” she muttered to herself. “Stupid Christmas.”

Fiction Master Post | Month of Miracles

[paintedlight]

Supernatural Season 15 & Sufjan Stevens' “The Ascension”

Teaser: there’s a song on this album called "Die Happy” where the lyrics are just “I want to die happy” for 5 minutes and 45 seconds. yeah. yeah.

Disclaimer: yes it’s all a stretch and I’m overthinking it but also… am I? (yes) 

long post time! know that reading ahead may hurt you and yes it does get worse the further down the track list you get 💕 have fun kids

So just to start off, I think it’s funny that something Sufjan’s discography & Supernatural have in common is the 15+ years of the internet arguing if it’s gay or not, and the answer ending up being yes. PLUS there’s the obvious connection of American mythos + mythology + calvinist themes (I am hissing) + religious trauma prevalent in both. 

If you’re a fan of both like I am, it’s easy to connect them— notable connections being songs like “John My Beloved” and “The Owl and the Tanager” or even “John Wayne Gacy Jr.”, but I’m going to focus on Sufjan's 2020 album, “The Ascension” since even the arc itself seems so connected to season 15 of Supernatural, specifically. 

At least in my head it does <3 enjoy 

MAKE ME AN OFFER I CANNOT REFUSE

When interviewed about the meaning of this track, Sufjan explains that this song is about asking God, “what do you have to say for humanity?” That it’s about desperation, creation, and devastation. It’s about frustration with divinity. Also the vibes are 10/10. Need I say more 

RUN AWAY WITH ME

This song is beautiful, it makes me want to sit in some grass and stare at the sky. 

Some lines that make me Dean/Cas crazy are the two lines in verse 1 and verse 2 that mirror each other by being in the same place melodically:

Verse 1: they will terrorize us / with new confusion / with the fear of life that seeks to bring despair within

Verse 2: I will bring you life / a new communion / with a paradise that brings the truth to light within

Yeahhh so the words “Despair” and “The Truth” were mirrored in this song yes it was coincidental yes I’m clinging to it. It fascinates me 

But this song is about begging someone to stay with you.

sweet falling remedy / come run away with me / you’re all I ever need

VIDEO GAME

My first thought when I heard this song was about how it was such a song for enneagram 4s. If you don’t know what that means, I think Dean is a 4 and wrote a post about it here. 

AND @trapperjohnmcintyre also made the connection between these lyrics and Dean in this post, and honestly I don’t need to say much more than that??

The song is about feeling paranoid and angry that God is controlling your every move and you can’t escape it (aka hating the doctrine of predestination). Of course it’s also about not wanting to follow societal scripts. 

You just want to have an easier life instead of the weight of good and evil resting on your back!!!

I don’t want to put the devil on a pedestal / I don’t want put the saints in chains / I just want to make my life a little easier / I don’t want to play your video game

Also these painful lines, as a treat: 

I don’t want to love you if you don’t receive it / I don’t want to save the world that way

Oh, I almost forgot, also. At the end, the narrator gives up. He’s like well I guess I can’t escape. Gotta follow the procedure. Gotta be a puppet.

I don’t want it to go down that way / but in a way you gotta follow the procedure / so go ahead and play your video game

  LAMENTATIONS

I don’t have much to say about this one but this line always makes my heart ache idk:

I was only thinking of human kindness

TELL ME YOU LOVE ME

Here we gooooooo. Y’all aren’t ready.

Thesis: Tell me you love me despite the primordial darkness about to overtake me. And even if you don’t, I’m going to love you. 

15x18 Despair anyone?? 

I want to just paste the whole song but, here—

DIE HAPPY

Yep, "Die Happy" immediately follows "Tell Me You Love Me." Yes, the lyrics are just “I want to die happy” over and over for almost 6 minutes. 

First of all, the repetition mirrors the end of the song Fourth of July, from Sufjan’s previous album Carrie & Lowell, where Sufjan sings “we’re all gonna die” over and over.

Parallels, baby.

But I noticed something else about this recently though— in Die Happy, if you are listening to it in your headphones, there’s this weird sound that sounds like a wasp flying around your head (it made me uncomfortable which is why I noticed it, haha). After I felt unnerved for a moment, I had a realization— that this could be referencing one of Sufjan’s most beloved songs, “The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades Is Out To Get Us!!” (yes that’s a real song title lol)

The Predatory Wasp is about how Sufjan fell in love with his best friend at the Bible Camp he went to as a teenager. The wasp is a metaphor for internalized homophobia and also his love and how he fears his love will hurt the boy he’s in love with. 

So, Die Happy references an iconic song from Illinois (2005) with these notable lines:

Tl;dr: 

I want to die happy vs. I can’t explain the state that I’m in / the state of my heart / he was my best friend

Here’s an Despair photoset with Predatory Wasp lyrics via @toneelspeelster. 

ATIVAN

So your best friend has just died happy by being in love with you. You feel like the primordial darkness is on YOU now:

I woke up in stereo—I spent the day in vertigo / I could not get the spirit off my back

You’re once again tossed in the waves of thinking that God is fucking with you. But either way you just want to be tranquilized at this point. 

Is it all for something? Is it all part of a plan / tranquilize me, sanitize me, Ativan

Is it all for nothing? Is it all part of a plan? / make my death wish, mind my business / do the best I can with what I am

Ativan asks, was the true leading woman all this time… substance abuse?? 

Ativan / my leading woman

Long story short, you’re drunk on communion wine, asking the shadows to come back.

fill me with the blood of Jesus / clean my plate 'til he receives us / separate the colors from the black / ... / tell the shadows near us to come back

 URSA MAJOR & LANDSLIDE

Not a lot to say about this (even though I love these songs) so I’m gonna skip mostly, but the narrator has decided he wants to love you, he can’t help it <3 

GILGAMESH

Oh boy. 

I mean you kinda know what’s coming because of the title. The Epic of Gilgamesh is the world’s oldest piece of epic world literature, and Gilgamesh was “the first hero of human history.” 

In the world’s oldest story, The Epic of Gilgamesh, Gilgamesh and Enkidu are “very close friends” (their relationship is very homoerotic and this is barely disputed). Gilgamesh calls Enkidu his brother, and they are mutually selfless towards each other but when Enkidu dies, indirectly because of Gilgamesh, Gilgamesh has a breakdown and mourns him like that of a spouse and then has to come to terms with his own mortality. 

The meta level of this is so obvious I’m not even going to go into it. Anyways… here are lyrics that make me want to scream! 

the repetition of “my heart”... the concept of singing a eulogy.... saying your heart is chained to Your Angel............ it hurts

DEATH STAR

Star Wars reference my beloved. Like many of these songs this has Fuck You God energy.

what you call the human race / expedite the judgement day / it’s your own damn head on that plate

vandalize what you create / ... / witness me resist your fate / it’s your own damn head on that plate

 GOODBYE TO ALL THAT

This song is a bop honestly 

When the lyrics were released a bunch of Sufjan fans contrasted Goodbye To All That’s here I am alone in my car / hopelessly infatuted / and I’m driving to wherever you are to Sufjan & Moses Sumney’s song, “Make Out in My Car”.

Yeah, I know, we’re all thinking of this:

Make Out in My Car is basically where Moses gave Sufjan a horny car guy chorus and told him to write the verses, and Sufjan proceeded to write the most liturgical shit ever (and we love him for it). ANYWAYS… Goodbye To All That also reminds me of Dean’s depression and the weirdness that started in 15x19 and goes into 15x20. For some reason he makes it seem more upbeat and happy than it is...

Despite this song being a bop, the lyrics are depressing. He’s alone in his car. He’s hopeless. He realizes it’s too late to have died a young man. 

He’s going to try to move on, even though nothing is left of him, he’s begging someone to turn around and show me his shadow.

He also references substance abuse again—

love me / and leave me / intoxicated

  SUGAR

The music video? Iconic. The mom of a family is making a pie, or she’s trying to. She ends up rubbing the filling all over her face, crushing the fruits, the oven catches on fire. 

But she does it! She makes the pie. 

Meanwhile the other family members are in their rooms, overindulging in sugar in all its forms. And then as she and her family eat around a dining table, occassionally being seemingly marrioetted by some unseen force, she looks angrily over her family, they all seem to kind of lose it, then the house starts to come apart until the chandelier falls on the dinner table. 

It’s the making pie + overindulgence in sugar + marionetted family metaphors for me ❤️ 

Ultimately, the song is about begging for affection, being desperate for domesticity, but you feel doomed, you feel like your defeat is predestined, that you can’t escape it.

You just don’t want to be heartbroken & you don’t want to be angry anymore!!!!

  THE ASCENSION

So you may be asking… does this guy get the domesticity he’s longing for?? Does he get his love back?? 

No. He dies. :/

The Ascension begins with just that. He’s dying.

THEN Sufjan decides to rhyme “confess” with “confess”, in two lines that mean almost opposite things:

When I am dead / and the light leaves my breast / nothing to be told / nothing to confess / let the record show / what I couldn’t quite confess

So does this guy have something to confess or not??? 👀

Moving on… 

He goes back to thinking about how his life was predestined all along, and now after all that, he’s dying. So he thinks about all the times he was kind of like this Mythological Icon. That he always had to be the one to show what was right, to lead by example. That that had been his entire identity. 

And he realizes he needs to answer for himself. 

Then he is frightened— realizing he was always asking what everything meant, what it all was for, but that all along he was just angry and depressed.

But even though he feels a like he should have just resigned himself to meaninglessness, that he only thought he could change the world for the better… it strengthened him to know the truth.

And even through the absolute shit of it all, and even though God & others did things from a place of so-called holiness and hopelessness...

He did everything out of love ❤️

So then he dies 🙃

AMERICA

So, as the end of The Ascension asked, what now? 

The album ends on this long track, which Sufjan describes as a protest against all that America has been and has become. 

It’s a protest against capitalism, of destroying humanity for the sake of some cold machinery. 

I have worshipped / I believed / I have broke your bread / for a splendor of machinery

And in true Sufjan fashion, he makes this song about protesting somehow both horny and religious, god bless

I have loved you / like a dream / I have kissed your lips / like a Judas in heat

I have worshipped / I have cried / I have put my hands in the wounds on your side / I have tasted of your blood / I have choked on the waters / I abated the flood / I am broken / I am beat / but I will find my way / like a Judas in heat

I am fortune / I am free / I’m like a fever of light / in the land of opportunity / don’t do to me / what you did to America / don’t do to me / what you do to yourself

  to finish out, here’s a DeanCas post by @eggcessive with lyrics from America ❤️ I HOPE YOU ENJOYED MY WEBWEAVING :)

[blitzturtles]

Title: It Starts Like This, Ch. 2/?

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Golden Wind

Pairing(s): BruAbba, Platonic Bucci Gang

Summary: “Giorno can’t fix this.”

Abbacchio’s breath hitches. “What?”

Notes: Turns out being dead has a bit of a long term effect. Who would have thought?

This fic got away from me, so I'm breaking it down by character interaction (sort of). This is Fugo & Abbacchio's part of this very Bucci-centric fic.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

______

Content warning for Abbacchio being Abbacchio. There's a bit of self-deprecation. Mentions and discussions of death, mostly centered around Paolo Bucciarati, and how his death weighs on Bruno.

______

“He’s never had these before,” Fugo says with a detached tone.

“I know,” Abbacchio replies in a near whisper. He brushes his fingers through Bruno’s hair; the motion earns him a small hum, but Bruno doesn’t open his eyes.

“Which means…” Fugo’s words trail off. He has a few dozen thoughts going through his head all at once.

“Yeah, probably,” Abbacchio sighs and reaches up to free his own hair. He doesn’t plan to leave this room for the next few hours at least.

“It could be permanent,” Fugo adds, thinking aloud more than conversing.

Abbacchio tries to stamp down his irritation. This isn’t Fugo’s fault, and the kid is only trying to work through everything that’s happening. Abbacchio can’t blame him for that. He’s already replaying every moment of his and Bruno’s interactions in his head. Thinks about setting Moody loose on a few incidents that he had written off before. He needs to see them again. To evaluate with clear eyes. How long had Bruno been suffering? How could he have missed this? He knows the answer already, but acknowledging it only makes him feel worse. Denial has clearly been at play, and his partner is the one to have suffered the consequences.

“Giorno can’t fix this.”

Abbacchio’s breath hitches. “What?”

“Messing around in Bruno’s head is too dangerous. He- it could-” Fugo fusses with his tie, brushes off something imaginary.

“Shut up, and get in bed,” Abbacchio can’t handle this right now. He’s only managed this far because he felt like he had to. Feels like he owes Bucciarati that much.

Fugo startles out of his own thoughts. His brows furrow together.

“You want to stay close to him,” Abbacchio says, like it’s obvious. It is, but Fugo doesn’t know if that explains the suggestion.

Sensing the hesitation, Abbacchio sighs, “Look, it’s only fucking weird if you make it.”

No, it’s definitely still weird, but Fugo carefully climbs on the edge anyway. They haven’t done this since they were both teenagers (never mind that Fugo is one, still). Fugo used to wake up from nightmares, screaming and too terrified to go back to sleep. But it had only been the two of them back then, and definitely not with Bruno’s partner right there.

Abbacchio snorts in amusement but climbs under the blankets on the other side of Bruno. He’s beginning to feel that post-adrenaline rush exhaustion creep in, and he’s not about to be jealous of Fugo wanting physical reassurance. None of them had needed the reminder that Bruno had died. Had been without a pulse and most of his blood supply for long enough that he might have seizures for the rest of his life.

He wants to laugh at the thought. How cruel. The one person on the team that deserves, more than anyone else, to be able to live his life in peace, and now he has a permanent reminder of the events that led to his death and his near second death. Fantastic.

Moody breaks him out of his thoughts with a click and a whine. Stick Fingers must have been pulled back to Bruno when he settled into a deeper, more restful sleep. Or maybe they feel satisfied that their user will be cared for now. He recalls his own stand for the time being.

To Abbacchio’s surprise, it’s Fugo that falls asleep first. He presses closer to Bruno in his unconscious state. Less inhibited. The problem with that level of intelligence is the tendency to overthink. Doesn’t help that he knows the kid has plenty of reason to be apprehensive about physical contact, though Abbacchio is relatively certain that it’s his own presence that makes Fugo uneasy.

He watches them for a while. They look peaceful, though the kid looks like he could use a blanket of his own. Abbacchio eventually rolls off the bed to dig through the nearby dresser. He finds the extra throw that Bruno keeps and tosses it over Fugo before he gets back into bed.

------ ------

“Abbacchio,” his name comes out as a hiss, but Abbacchio can’t tell where it’s coming from. “Abbacchio!” He hears again, but he can’t find who the voice belongs to. He turns his head, gets a surprising smack to the face that jolts him upright.

It takes him a moment to clear the confusion, but his attention is quickly drawn down to his right by an odd, strained sound. Something forced out of the back of someone’s throat, and he instantly identifies it as Bruno. Fugo is already trying to roll him on his side.

“How long?” Abbacchio asks, reaching out to help. Bruno isn’t moving much, other than the hand he managed to get Abbacchio with.

“A few seconds,” Fugo says with a strained sound to his voice.

“Good, that’s good,” Abbacchio isn’t sure who he’s trying to convince. “Bruno?” He asks and is startled when Bruno turns his head in his direction. It has to be a fluke. “You with us?”

“Mm.”

“Huh, that’s-” Weird. “Can you tell us where you are?”

“M’hm.”

Abbacchio waits a moment, but nothing comes after that. Bruno’s eyes trail away. “Bruno.” The same unfocused gaze returns again.

“That’s good… right?” Fugo asks with a frown, uncertainty at the edge of his voice. Like he knows that he’s probably lying to himself.

“No idea, my training didn’t include this,” he tries a few more times to get Bruno to talk to him, but he doesn’t get more than quiet hums and half-mumbled words. There’s a few attempts that get nothing at all, but Bruno finally-- finally-- blinks at him. Slow and sluggish. Abbacchio has to resist the urge to pull him close to his chest. Instead, he talks to him quietly and gets Fugo to turn off the lights that he had forgotten about.

“‘m sorry,” Bruno mumbles with his eyes closed. He presses his face against the pillows, and he looks so exhausted. It’s killing Abbacchio to watch him.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Abbacchio reassures. He risks running his fingers through Bruno’s hair after several moments have passed. “Fugo’s here,” he adds, more as courtesy than anything.

“Oh,” Bruno answers. He gives an aborted nod, but Abbacchio isn’t sure how much he’s actually processing.

“I can go,” Fugo offers, already starting off the bed.

“Panna,” Bruno reaches blindly behind himself for Fugo.

The nickname freezes the teenager in place long enough for Bruno to get his fingers into one of the holes of Fugo’s suit. He hums and closes his eyes.

For several minutes, no one moves. Fugo isn’t particularly comfortable where he is, more on the edge of the bed than actually on the mattress, but he doesn’t want to disturb Bruno. Abbacchio counts each of Bruno’s breaths like that might be of some use to them.

“Love,” Bruno speaks up again. He looks frustrated, and the way he presses his lips into a thin line tells Abbacchio that he’s struggling to put his thoughts together. He makes a vague motion with his hand, but it doesn’t exactly convey whatever he’s going for.

“We love you, too,” Abbacchio says, because he knows Bruno. He notes the way Fugo looks like he’s been kicked in the chest. All this time later, and he can’t accept that Bruno’s affection is undying and unconditional. Abbacchio gets that, actually.

“C’mon Fugo, get comfortable. Tomorrow’s going to be a hell of a day,” he isn’t about to let this continue without getting a professional involved. If they can’t use Giorno’s stand, then they’ll find someone that can help. Bruno’s not the first person in the world to have seizures. There’s research and medication for this.

Fugo does as he’s told, pulling the blanket that Abbacchio got for him tight around his shoulders. He barely seems to register that it exists, but he’s going to hide himself in it anyways.

Neither of them fall asleep nearly as quickly as Bruno, but it happens eventually.

------ ------

The next time Abbacchio awakes, it’s to find the bed half covered in books and various scraps of paper littered about.

“Complex partial seizure,” Fugo says before Abbacchio has sorted out what time of day it is.

“What?”

“Bruno had a complex partial seizure. Apparently seizures don’t always affect awareness,” Fugo explains as he vaguely gestures to one of the books that’s open to a page with a black and white picture of a brain on it. He’s sitting criss-cross on the other side of Bruno with his brows apparently stuck together in a look of deep thought. “Though obviously his did, but he maintained some level of consciousness. That’s what makes it a complex partial seizure. I think-” Fugo frowns as he flips through the pages, “I only managed to get these an hour ago, and I was more invested in the information about the grand mal seizure.”

Abbacchio groans and tries to clear the sleep by rubbing his eyes. When that doesn’t work, he scrubs his hands over his face. “Where did you get those?”

Fugo raises an eyebrow.

Abbacchio sighs and makes an aborted gesture with his hand, “Never mind. So, a-” he squints, “What did you say?”

“A complex partial seizure.”

“Right,” Abbacchio needs caffeine before he can digest any of this, “Is that… better or worse?”

“Well, they’re all dangerous,” Fugo chews on his bottom lip as he turns the question over in his mind. He looks like he’s considering his answer at a level that Abbacchio isn’t ready for this early.

Instead, he focuses on Bruno. Makes sure he’s breathing first and foremost, which he is. He looks over the zipper Sticky Fingers’ had placed and feels a bit queasy at the size of it. That isn’t the most reassuring thing he’s seen in recent history, but surely Giorno can heal that without possibly screwing up Bruno’s brain.

“I’m going to go grab a cup of coffee, and you’re going to run all that by me again. After I drink my coffee,” he moves to stand, stretching as he goes. He’s still in his undershirt and pants, which isn’t comfortable, but he can’t bring himself to care. “Want any?”

“Please.”

------ ------

By the time he gets back to Bruno’s-- really both of their-- bedroom, Bruno is awake and talking quietly with Fugo. He looks surprisingly good for a man that’s had two seizures in less than twenty-four hours. More alert than Abbacchio thought to expect.

Bruno has one of Abbacchio’s shirts on. Fugo must have gotten it for him. Probably hadn’t realized it wasn’t Bruno’s until it was hanging off of him. His hair is still down, loose. It hangs in his face every time he moves a certain way. The only tale of the wear on his body is the obvious bags under his eyes. His shoulders are slumped, too, but he talks to Fugo as if nothing ever happened.

Abbacchio passes one of the cups of coffee to Fugo, who takes it gratefully. He turns his attention back to Bruno, “I didn’t think you’d be awake. Do you want some tea?” Of the non-caffeinated variety. He doesn’t specify, but Bruno drinks tea more for the motions than the energy boost. It soothes his nerves when he’s antsy or aggravated.

“I’m alright, thank you,” Bruno offers him a small smile. A gentle reassurance that he’s alright.

Abbacchio doesn’t buy it, but the smile does settle something in him.

The conversation resumes after that. It’s not about the seizures, surprisingly. With the way Fugo is trying to rip through the information, he half expected that Fugo wouldn’t be able to help infodumping everything he’s learned. Bruno would-- under ordinary circumstances-- happily oblige him by listening. Abbacchio isn’t sure if it’s for Bruno’s sake or Fugo’s that the teenager refrains.

------ ------

Eventually, Fugo dismisses himself and Bruno gets dressed. Abbacchio wants to say something, but the words won’t come together. They stay in a heavy silence; one that threatens to smother the oxygen from their lungs. There’s a familiar ache between Abbacchio’s ribs that he dismisses in favor of keeping his focus on Bruno.

They aren’t avoiding each other. Both want nothing more to touch. A reassurance for one; an attempt to cement for the other.

They aren’t avoiding each other; they’re avoiding the truth.

------ ------

“Giorno!” Abbacchio barks the kid’s name a little rougher than he intended to.

Giorno looks up instantly, eyes widening slightly, then more significantly when he sees Bruno following after Abbacchio.

“Bucciarati!” The Pistols cry in unison, taking the name right from Mista’s own mouth.

“Oh man, you scared us,” Narancia says before he can think better of it.

Abbacchio shoots him a dirty look, but Bruno pats him on the shoulder. “It’s alright. I’m sure I gave everyone quite the scare.”

“Man, that’s the understatement of the year, but we’re glad to see you’re okay,” Mista answers brightly.

Abbacchio can see the shadow that hangs over all of them, despite their best attempts to pretend everything is okay. At least they’re trying. His attention turns back to Giorno, “Bruno’s got a cut he has sealed off with a zipper,” that’s as much of an explanation as he’s offering, even though it’s something Giorno already knows.

Giorno nods anyway. He gets up from his seat and moves to pull out Bruno’s usual chair. “If you have a seat, I can get a better look.”

“Of course, thank you,” Bruno slides in easily and reaches his hands up to help part some of his hair. It’s substantially thicker without his usual braid. The zipper is largely obscured, but, between he and Giorno, they manage to part it in a way that keeps the majority of the strands out of the wound once Sticky Fingers releases the zipper.

Narancia whistles when he leans in for a look, “Jeez.”

Abbacchio’s inclined to agree, but he knows that wounds to the scalp can be superficial, both in depth and in how they can sometimes appear more severe than they are. He hopes that’s the case here. Bruno doesn’t need a concussion on top of the apparent brain injury they were all oblivious to.

Gold Experience gets to work quickly, closes the wound within seconds. The only sign of Bruno’s pain is the way he grinds his teeth together, but he holds perfectly still until Giorno is finished.

“There, that should be it. I didn’t feel any new bleeding underneath either,” Giorno explains.

“Thank you, Giorno,” Bruno smiles up at him fondly.

Giorno ducks his head and makes his way back to his seat with a quiet, ‘you’re welcome’.

The rest of breakfast passes in something of a blur. Trish makes her way downstairs and expresses her own relief to find Bruno sitting with everyone else, awake and alert. They all find themselves glancing his way every now and then, but the morning passes by without event.

------ ------

It’s after everyone else has dispersed that Abbacchio finds himself sitting next to Bruno and unsure of how to proceed. They need to get Bruno to a doctor, but the man is notoriously impossible when it comes to treating his own wounds. Before Giorno, if Bruno couldn’t put a zipper on it… well, he would try anyway, and he would have died a few times over if not for someone (Abbacchio) else’s intervention. He suspects that Bruno was mildly better as a teenager, if only because he had to make sure that someone took care of Fugo. He thinks it went downhill when Fugo’s own stray ended up joining Passione. The kid wouldn’t be alone, then.

He sighs and turns to his partner, “You- we should go to the hospital.”

To his surprise, the response he gets is a soft, “I know.”

He peaks over at Bruno, sees the way his shoulders are sloped in defeat. No, fuck. Abbacchio feels sick, because that’s not defeat. That’s fear and devastation in those beautiful blue eyes.

Abbacchio reaches to brush his fingers through the longest parts of Bruno’s hair. The pieces he typically keeps braided. “It’ll be okay.”

“Logically, I know that,” Bruno says. Quiet, staring forward. He won’t look at Abbacchio. “But, logically, there’s always the possibility that it won’t be.”

Abbacchio tries to keep his own emotions in check, but he remembers seeing Bruno on the floor of that damn colosseum, more dead than alive. And he remembers hearing Giorno tell them about the extent of Bruno’s injuries at the church. The ones that had actually killed him.

“I’m not afraid of… the worst case scenario.”

“I know,” and Abbacchio does know that. If death were a deterring factor, Bruno wouldn’t be where he is now. “But you can’t run away from us.”

Bruno makes a noise in the back of his throat, confirming what Abbacchio already knows. Bruno isn’t afraid of the possibility of this being more than seizures or brain damage or epilepsy. He’s not afraid of death. He’s afraid of taking them all with him on a road he’s already been down. His own father never recovered from the devastation wrought on his body. Every one of the five years he lived after had been filled with pain for a man that wished nothing more than to shield his only child from the truth. As if Bruno weren’t knocking on Passione’s door and doing everything the fuckers asked him, no matter the consequences to himself.

The dying don’t go quietly.

Abbacchio reaches for Bruno’s hand. He tangles their fingers together. “If-- and I mean if-- it’s something like that, then we take the risk of Giorno fucking up your memories or personality or whatever. Maybe you’ll be a little weirder,” he gets a huff there that he delights in. A small success. “But I think we can all live with that, if it means you being with us.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Bruno says after a minute or so of gathering his thoughts and putting his emotions back in order.

“Has to happen sometimes.”

Bruno laughs again, but he shoots Abbacchio a glare for self-deprecation.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Lecture me later,” Abbacchio squeezes Bruno’s hand. “C’mon. Let’s go get ready.”

Once they’re on their feet, Bruno follows behind him, looking more like a lost puppy than his usual self. It only strengthens Abbacchio’s resolve to be the stronger partner for a change.