#her story. or there would be no reason at all besides nostalgia to make a 2000s doll.

[mydollsaregay]

Last night, I was thinking about the twins and was able to put my finger on what was still bugging me about them.

Despite it making us feel old, the 90s IS history (hell, yesterday is history!). AG is saying it, but I’m not sure they… mean it?

From the hints of the girls’ stories I’ve seen so far, the only anchoring historical event seems to be y2k. Everything else is nice enough, but certainly not unique to the 90s, and could be given to a goty instead.

Honestly? Y2K is not enough. It’s a little too safe. Yes, it was a big deal to the people who lived through it. However, it was literally just New Years, but cooler (and with a lot of programming work in the background to change years to be stored as four digits). What are the lasting effects that kids can recognize today? Because I see very few that can’t just be chalked up to the passage of time.

There was a lot more to the 90s than fashion, pop culture, and the biggest new years ever, but it kinda seems like those are the only parts AG is interested in portraying. When you put y2k up against some of the other historical events that other American Girls live through, even just the ones from the 20th century, it seems pretty silly. Second wave feminism, the Great Depression, the civil rights movement, and now….. new years but the number changes a bit more than usual!!!!!! Like. Cmon.

Even if they were wedded to portraying y2k, columbine, the effects of which are VERY much felt by kids today, happened that same year. But I kinda doubt AG will have the guts to even discuss it in the girl’s stories, which is really sad (and honestly one of the biggest downsides to more modern historical dolls - the history they’re covering is still too touchy for a lot of parents to be comfortable with).

Also, by pushing the girls to be in the late 90s, I’m betting AG is trying to worm their way out of having the 2000s girl live through 9/11 (i.e. watching it on tv) and the start of the war on terror. Which like. I get WHY (still too touchy for parents) but it’s really frustrating. 9/11 and it’s aftermath is arguably one of the most impactful events in American history, it’s stupid to dance around it. Felicity gets to live through the actual revolution but god forbid a more modern girl actually live through recent historical events.

[luvfy0dor]

Henlo! I saw that requests for Fyodor are open! And I was wondering if you could write something about Fyodor as a parent if you’re comfortable with that. For some reason I can’t find enough of those and I really wanna see how you’d do it!

(Not as the reader’s parent btw, maybe having a child/children with the reader. But I just wanna see how you think he’d behave in that situation and how you think it would all go down)

"Come on, papa!" Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN!Reader ｡˚♡₊

╰┈➤ Dad!Fyodor ༉‧₊˚✧

Description ; How Fyodor acts towards his child/children!

Warnings ; None

A/N; IVE BEEN LOWKEY WAITING FOR THIS REQUEST BRO IM SO EXCITED OVER THIS YOU DONT EVEN GET IT ALSO P/T STANDS FOR PARENTAL TITLE BC IDK WHAT YALL WANNA BE CALLED YKYK AND D/N IS DAUGHTERS NAME OBVI

Headcannons !! ༊*·˚

→ Dad!Fyodor who lets his kid/s play with his hair, too, messing it up and laughing at their fathers disheveled appearance.

→ Dad!Fyodor who quietly reads your kids bed time stories, letting them sit on his lap while he holds the book in front of them, pointing to the pictures with a smile.

→ Dad!Fyodor who picks out the most whack ass outfits for your kid, proudly displaying it out to you and frowning at your hesitant smile.

→ Dad!Fyodor who discouraged your children from cutting their hair and braids it or puts it up for them every morning before school.

→ Dad!Fyodor who (very frequently) helps your kid/s with their homework or projects for school, not quite giving them answers but shoving nudging them in the right direction.

→ Dad!Fyodor who teaches his kid(s) the basics of playing the cello, letting them get a feel for the strings. He would teach them how to hold the bow and would let them stand beside him and watch him play.

→ Dad!Fyodor who cooks recipes that he learned in Russia for you and your children, encouraging all of you to try foreign dishes. They give him a feeling of nostalgia and wanting to pass those special foods on to his kid(s).

→ Dad!Fyodor who absolutely tries passing on happy group counseling hour to his kid/s when they seem sad or upset.

Scenarios !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Your keys jingled in the keyhole of your front door as you pushed it open, revealing the living room that you had longed to sit down in all day. Work sucked, you weren't going to lie, but there was something that was allegedly important going on, so you had no choice but to attend.

Your husband volunteered to watch your daughter on her day off of school, which wasn't a totally uncommon occurrence due to Fyodors line of work. He didn't mind watching d/n, he likes it a lot, actually. Fyodor values the quality time he can spend with his kid just as much as the quality time he gets to spend with you.

The pitter patter of your daughters feet got louder the closer she got to the living room, rounding the corner and smiling. "P/t!"

"Hey, what'd I tell you about running?" You say with a quiet and amused giggle as she throws herself onto you, hugging your waist. You run your fingers over the pretty braids weaved into her hair with a smile. "Papa did your hair?" The little girl nods excitedly.

"Well, you look very, very pretty." Another set of footsteps can be heard, this time softer. Fyodor rounds the corner with a smile, pulling you into a hug.

"Mm, my dear." He says, resting his head on you shoulder for a moment before pulling away, starting back towards the kitchen. He waves at d/n to follow him. "Come on, sweetheart, come help me finish dinner." She excitedly runs after her father, earning a soft and faint giggle from him.

Upon following the two of them into the kitchen, you can smell the beef stroganoff cooking, watching your daughter step up onto the little stool she dragged in next to Fyodor. They stand at the counter, Fyodor making sure she's nowhere near anything dangerous or hot. He gently pushes over a measuring cup filled with beef broth.

"Alright, Malyshka. Just pour this into the pan, and be very careful, alright?" He says softly, his voice gentle as he measures out the whipping cream. The beef broth can be heard being poured into the pan from the spot you're standing in, smiling at your husband and daughter making dinner together. Within a couple of seconds, Fyodor is handing d/n measurements of other ingredients, such as Worcestershire sauce and dijon mustard. He lets her stir it all in, guiding her whenever he sees fit.

"Alright, we're all done. Here, why don't you go sit down, I'll bring you and P/t your dinners, yeah?" He smiles at the young girl, rubbing her back before patting it. She nods and skitters off to join you at the dinner table. She blabbers on to you about everything she did that day, even running off to bring proof of her activities.

She comes back out, proudly showing off a coloring page filled with scribbles in numerous different hues. One of them was only slightly better than the other, the lesser messy one was labeled with Fyodor's name in his sloppy handwriting to match the coloring. You grinned at both of them, taking the thin sheets of paper and studying them intently.

"Wow, they're both wonderful!" Your daughter wears a proud smile at the praise from you, excitedly placing her hands on her hips. "Are ya gonna hang them up on the fridge?" You nod and ruffle her hair a bit, just in time for Fyodor to bring the food in for all three of you. He sets the plates down on the table, listening to the conversation still taking place between you and your daughter.

"Ofcourse I will, I love them both very much." Your daughter smiles, blowing on the small piece of meat impaled by her fork. "Maybe me and papa can have a coloring contest, you can be the judge!" She says to you excitedly. Fyodor smiles. "How about another night, Malyshka? It's getting close to your bedtime." He says, continuing eating his food. "Aw, but papa-" she sadly whines, Fyodor shaking his head. "No 'but''s, d/n. We can tomorrow night though, I promise." Fyodor smiles at her while she extends her outstretched pinky to her dad.

"Pinky promise?" She quietly mumbles. He grins and interlocks his pinky with hers, reaching across the table to do so. "I promise. You know i never break my promises, Malyshka." She smiles and nods in agreement. "Yeah, right. Tomorrow night then!" She says with a grin.

"Tomorrow night. Alright, d/n, time to go get ready for bed. Go put on pajamas and we'll come say goodnight in five minutes." You say to the small girl with a smile. She nods in compliance and quickly walks back to her room to change into sleep clothing. You look over at Fyodor, who is already looking back at you with a loving gaze.

"Ah, I forgot to apologize for the late dinner earlier, dear. I was quite busy being dressed up in tiaras and what not." Your heart warms at the thought of your husband bonding with your daughter. "It's alright, don't worry about it." You gently caress his shoulders before taking all the plates away from the dining table, washing them in the kitchen and sticking them in the dishwasher. Placing your hands on your hips, you nod in approval of your quick work. Fyodor waits for you in the doorway, nodding in the direction of d/n's room with a gentle smile.

You both approach the room, knocking to make sure she was finished getting ready for bed before you both entered. You said goodnight to her and kissed her cheek while Fyodor said goodnight and kissed her forehead. Before Fyodor could stand straight up again, d/n giggled and whispered to him.

"I'm gonna beat you tomorrow, so prepare yourself, papa. It's gonna be the best coloring you've ever seen!" She proudly claims, clearly confident in her coloring skills. Fyodor chuckles. "I believe it whole heartedly. Get some sleep, or you may wake up without that skill." He says, making sure she's 100% tucked in. She nods in understanding and snuggles into her blanket.

"Goodnight, Malyshka." Fyodor whispers, gently pulling her door closed a bit, leaving a crack between the door and the frame.

A/N (#2); I'm super sorry if any mistakes were made, I didn't proofread because I'm suuuuper tired lol, but I just wanna put it out there that I am absolutely willing to do more dad!Fyodor. Dad!Fyodor and soft!Fyodor literally give me life u don't even get it (recipe I referenced was from Natasha Kitchen)

[marvelmusing]

Keep Your Judgement

Chapter Sixteen

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: Theories about merzost, the very boundary of your powers, and your relationship with Aleksander are all put to the test as everything comes to a head.

Warnings: canon level violence, mentions of death and violence, animal death

A/N: this is a pretty hefty chapter, but I hope it makes up for the wait - enjoy!

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

The fox is absent from your mind and Aleksander is nowhere to be seen when you wake in an unfamiliar patch of forest. Ravka is in the midst of a cold spring, but the flowers around you now are in full summer bloom. The stone beneath you, the ruins of a small fortress, is warm against your bare feet.

When you stare too hard at the distance, everything blurs into a haze of generic woodland – trees and thick greenery. A blue butterfly flutters across your vision, swirling in a cheerful loop around you that makes you too dizzy to follow.

“What is this place?” you ask your only companion, the girl who had been by your side when you awoke. She turns away from the rose bush she had been admiring, pale blue eyes wide and curious as she looks at you.

“You’re the durast; I was hoping you would have an explanation.”

“You’re Grisha?” She nods with a small smile, her eyes falling onto your hand. There’s a freshly healed scar across your palm, where you had cut yourself to reverse Morozova’s blood lock. “A healer.” She nods again and you close your fist, flexing your fingers. “Thank you.”

“It’s the best I could do. I never quite had the time to master tailoring before I died.”

“Died?” you repeat. She nods and you feel the blood run out of your face. “Am I dead too?”

She tilts her head, examining you for a moment.

“I don’t think so.”

That doesn’t reassure you. Desperate for some answers, you slump down onto the stone steps, tucking your knees up to your chest.

“What’s your name?” you ask her.

“Luda.”

She sits down beside you as you give her your name.

“Do you mind me asking, how did you die?”

“I was stabbed by one of the King’s soldiers.”

“When was this?”

Her brows crease together into a small frown, her head tilted aside.

“I’m not sure. I think time works differently here.”

History lessons at the Little Palace weren’t always your favourite, but perhaps you could figure out when Luda was still alive.

“What was the name of the king?”

“Anastas.”

“Oh.”

She’s quiet, eyes watching your reaction intently.

“Was that a long time ago?” she asks, though you suspect from her tone she already knows the answer.

You nod.

“Before the Fold.”

“What’s the Fold?”

You blink at her. The Fold is such a vital piece of Ravka’s history. A key feature on every map. A shadow that has been hanging over your country for your entire life. The idea of someone not knowing about it, of living in a Ravka without a mass of shadow dividing it, baffles you for a moment.

Luda listens intently, eyes wide as you describe the Fold and the state of your modern-day Ravka. There are tears in her eyes when you tell her about the Little Palace, your voice filled with nostalgia as you recount stories of your childhood – vastly different from hers. She’s sympathetic when you explain your struggles with helping Aleksander.

She tells you about the witch hunts and how she was cast out of her village at the age of six. With a melancholy smile on her face, she tells you about the man she loved, who had helped her rescue countless Grisha. It reminds you of Aleksander, which you mention to her.

It takes quite some time for the two of you to realise that her Aleksander is the same man as your Aleksander. But once you do, you’re both stunned. Luda is desperate to hear about him and you can see her heart break when you tell her how much he has suffered.

“Baghra warned him not to use merzost,” she admits. “Countless times.”

“Morozova used it,” you reason.

“Only to create his amplifiers. Aleksander is too selfless. He won’t see an issue with killing himself to keep the people he cares for safe.”

The two of you are quiet as you consider her words. Aleksander is selfless to a fault. There is nothing he wouldn’t do to keep you and the other Grisha safe. He has proved that time and time again, killing him piece by piece each day. You only hope that you might be able to save him from such a tragic fate, if you ever return to reality.

“I think he’s here for you.”

Frowning, you turn to follow Luda’s gaze and find the fox – your fox – at the edge of the woods. He trots over the grass, heading directly towards you. It feels like a piece of your soul has clicked back into place as the fox threads his way through your legs.

Luda seems cautious despite her curiosity, her hand hovering above the fox’s body.

“Go on,” you encourage her softly. “He won’t hurt you.”

“He’s beautiful,” she whispers, tracing her fingers lightly over his shimmering fur.

He tilts his head, looking up at you with his amber eyes.

“It isn’t our time yet, is it?” you say to him.

He shakes his head, taking your sleeve between his teeth and tugging you in the direction of the forest. As you stand, intending on following the fox, Luda calls your name.

“Aleksander,” she says, her voice wavering as she grips onto your hands. “Tell him… tell him he did everything he could. It wasn’t easy, but I’ve made my peace with the time I had.”

Swallowing hard, you tighten your hold on her.

“You should have had longer.”

She smiles softly, cupping your cheek with a fond affection in her eyes.

“I can see why he loves you.”

You don’t quite know what to say to her. Aleksander himself hasn’t even told you that he loves you. His actions have shown how much he cares for you, but he has yet to say the words themselves. Having someone state it so confidently makes you bashful.

“He still loves you,” you say. Her expression turns dismissive, but you shake your head to stop her next words. “He isn’t the kind of man to let time or death stop his love.”

The corner of her mouth twitches with the hint of a smile, tears gathering in her eyes. In this moment, she looks delicate and emotion tugs at your heart, encouraging your own tears.

“If he ends up at the making before me,” you adjust your grip on her hands, staring down at them. “Take care of him.”

She nods, her smile unfaltering despite her tears.

“I have a feeling I won’t be seeing either one of you for quite some time.”

»»---------------------►

Sunlight warms your face, and you blink rapidly as your eyes adjust to the sudden brightness. A small groan catches in the back of your throat and you stretch your aching limbs and push yourself into a sitting position. From her seat at your bedside, Genya discards her book with a gasp, tossing it away in favour of throwing her arms around you.

Somewhat disarmed by the hug, you look around at your surroundings, slowly recognising the bedroom you had been using at the Grand Palace.

“Genya? What happened?”

She pulls back, examining your face. There’s a tension in her features and a heaviness in her eyes. Genya is always meticulous in maintaining her appearance, but now she looks almost disheveled. Tears glimmer in her eyes as she brushes a lock of hair from your forehead.

“Ivan found you and the General in the woods. He said you had escaped a fire.”

“Ivan?” Ivan is alive. Deep down, you’re thrilled for Fedoyr, but at the moment you have more pressing concerns vying for your attention.

“You almost died.”

Her statement has concern for Aleksander mounting in your chest.

“Where’s the General?” Her expression drops slightly and your stomach twists fearfully as your fingers curl around her wrist. “Genya? Tell me, please.”

“He’s still alive. We’ve had heartrenders monitoring him constantly-” Instantly, you push the bedcovers aside and begin to climb off the mattress. “-and a durast keeping the merzost from reaching his heart.”

Genya settles her hands on your shoulders, attempting to keep you in bed.

“I need to see him.”

“Let me get a healer to see to you first.”

You shake your head.

“No. I need to see him, now.”

Dressed in a velvet robe, you stride through the corridors towards the royal chambers which Aleksander had claimed as his own. Genya hurries to keep up with you, despite the burning ache in your lungs. The fox skitters nervously at the forefront of your mind, scratching anxiously at the frantic thoughts of Aleksander.

Four oprichniki stand guard outside his rooms, opening the doors for you immediately so that you can rush into his bedroom unhindered. Ivan and Fedoyr stand at the foot of the bed, with David sitting at Aleksander’s bedside with a tense expression, his hands clasped together as he keeps the merzost from entering Aleksander’s heart.

Then your eyes fall upon Aleksander himself. The urge to cry like a helpless child chokes you. Moving towards him slowly, you can’t find the strength to breathe.

He’s sickeningly pale, cold to the touch as you reach for his face carefully. He doesn’t stir like he usually would, seeking out your touch subconsciously, and you experience the horrific thought that you might be too late.

His amplification still reaches for your power and nausea fills you at the feeling of strength that flows from his weakened body to yours. Closing your eyes as you sit by his side on the edge of the bed, you attempt to redirect the power, hoping to find some way of giving him enough to fight off the merzost.

The arteries in his neck are dark and thick with merzost, throbbing beneath his skin. There’s a sheen of sweat covering his forehead, his dark brows furrowed with pain. Clasping your hands together, you focus on the merzost in his body, gasping when you feel the vastness of dark poison tainting his blood. It makes your lungs tighten, the back of your head pounding with each weak beat of Aleksander’s heart.

Emotion closes your throat as you lean over Aleksander, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. Gently, you smooth his hair back, threading your fingers lovingly through the matted locks. He’s still so motionless, and your hands shake as you trace your fingertips over his scars which have darkened considerably. Kissing his cheek, you whisper quietly against his ear,

“Hold on for me, Aleksander, please.”

Blinking back your tears, you straighten up, addressing the room,

“Bring me the sun summoner.”

Fedoyr nods, giving Ivan’s hand a squeeze before he moves towards the door to obey your order. There’s a large, jagged scar stretching across Ivan’s neck, directly over the apple of his throat, which you suspect is a token from his escape from the Fold. He – like Aleksander – is lucky to have survived the volcra.

“Thank you for saving us, Ivan.”

He nods in acknowledgement, his expression softening slightly as he observes you and Aleksander.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Genya asks you, wringing her hands lightly.

“Not entirely,” you admit, rolling up the soft sleeves of your robe. “But I have a few theories.”

It isn’t long before you hear footsteps in the corridor outside as Fedoyr returns with Alina in tow.

“Fedoyr, hold her still.”

“What’s happening?” Alina asks, eyes bouncing frantically over each person in the room. None of you look at her.

“Quiet,” Ivan says firmly.

“Ivan,” you say. “Only stop me if he is about to die – and only then.” He nods solemnly. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Closing your eyes, you tighten your hold on Alina’s wrist and take Aleksander’s hand in your own, creating a physical bridge between the two of them.

»»---------------------►

It takes a few moments for you to realise where you are. The Little Palace. The sun is low, descending over the horizon as you walk down the corridors. The increasing darkness doesn’t scare you, this place is your home. There is only one place you can think of finding Aleksander.

During your time living at the Little Palace, you never actually set foot in Aleksander’s rooms, as an ordinary durast, you were never considered important enough for an audience with the General of the Second Army.

Pushing open the door to Aleksander’s chambers, you walk towards the figure seated in the armchair by the fire.

“Aleksander,” you sigh, filled with relief. “I thought it would be so much harder to find you.” He doesn’t turn at the sound of your voice and your stomach sinks as the silence rings between you. Each step you take is tentative as you move towards the chair, eyes trained on the dark head of hair. “Sasha?”

The figure stands and your steps falter.

“Alina.”

She’s wearing a black kefta and you feel sick at the sight of her in Aleksander’s colour. She frowns at you.

“It’s you, from the Spinning Wheel. Who are you?”

You shake your head minutely.

“No one.”

“Kirigan isn’t who you think he is.”

“I know exactly who he is.”

She lifts a hand, summoning a ball of sunlight which dances around her fingers. Her light is cooler than when you first saw it at the winter fete.

“And you stand beside him – knowing what he’s done?” Her voice is hard with anger and you know there will be no reasoning with her. Straightening yourself, you nod.

“I do.”

Small sparks flutter around her, the power fighting to be released. Then you realise, she doesn’t have full control of her second amplifier, meaning she is so much more dangerous than you anticipated. Slowly, you begin to back away.

She brings her hands together, wielding the light into a bright blade and you turn tail, running for the door. It slams shut behind you and mere seconds later the Cut slices through the wood.

Splitters burst from the broken door as it shatters from the force of Alina’s Cut, but you don’t dare to look backwards as you continue running. Knowing the corridors of the Little Palace so intimately gives you an advantage that you are quick to make use of, leaving Alina behind in the wake of her destruction.

As you lean against a window frame, attempting to catch your breath, your eyes are drawn to a light outside. There’s someone in Baghra’s hut. Aleksander. Rushing towards a door that opens into the courtyard at the side of the palace, you freeze in the doorway, staring out over the grass.

The open ground between the palace and Baghra’s hut means you will be vulnerable from all angles. Without the speed or heightened senses of the fox, you have no way of knowing if it is safe for you to move.

After a moment of steeling your nerves, you push away from the door, running as fast as you can across the courtyard. As soon as you make it to the grass, hope begins to fill you that you might make it to Baghra’s hut undetected and unharmed.

Then, there’s a galloping sound of hooves against grass, dirt spraying upwards, and you stumble at the sight of a stag barrelling out of the woods towards you. Halting your sprint has you swaying backwards, knocked to the ground by the momentum as you scramble away from the stag.

He’s large, colossal antlers raised aggressively at you as he snorts a warning. His pale fur stands out against the darkness, almost glowing in the pale moonlight as he stamps the ground territorially, blocking your route to Aleksander.

Despite your hurried retreat, he continues to stalk towards you and fear prickles over your skin. There is no way you can outrun such a creature. Mud sticks to your hands as you crawl backwards, eyes fixed on the stag as he begins to pick up the pace again, charging towards you with his antlers lowered to impale you.

There’s a flash of red fur and a familiar protective snarl. The fox. He’s come to save you. He barks and growls at the stag, weaving between his legs.

Terrified for the creature that has been a part of you for the last few months, you hold your breath and watch anxiously as the fox snaps at the stag. He turns to look at you, amber eyes locked on yours as he tilts his head as if to say: what are you still doing here? Go get him.

Shakily, you stumble to your feet, running around the warring creatures towards the hut at the tree line. Aleksander is sitting by the fire when you throw open the door.

“Aleksander,” you gasp.

He stands, wide eyed, rushing towards you as you throw yourself into his arms. He catches you immediately, coiling himself around you tightly as you grip onto him.

“You’re alive,” he murmurs, breathing deeply as he nestles himself closer to you.

“You are too,” you whisper, before adding, “Barely, because you used merzost again.”

He shrugs lightly, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“It was a small price to pay, to ensure you lived.”

“Aleksander. The only reason why I was able to create this tether is because you are frightfully close to joining the making at the heart of the world.”

“Is that what this is? A preliminary afterlife?”

You nod.

“I think so.”

His expression shatters, his knuckles stroking your cheek.

“You’re here to say goodbye.”

“You think I would let you go so easily?” He stares at you in confusion, and you lean forwards to press your forehead against his. “I’m here to save you.”

“How?”

“Merzost requires balance. The only solution I can think of is to reverse what happened in reality.” He frowns and you continue your explanation. “We get Alina to kill the stag, and I give you the antlers.”

“Kill the stag? What do you mean?”

“Look outside.”

Aleksander’s legs are shaky, and you need to keep your arm around his shoulders as he moves over towards the window. The fox and the stag are still fighting outside, their positions now reversed as the fox stands protectively at the entrance to Baghra’s hut.

“You certainly know how to pick an amplifier for someone,” you remark quietly with a wry laugh.

“He’s just as loyal as you,” Aleksander says in a soft murmur and heat warms in your chest.

Then you spot Alina approaching, her eyes fixed intently on the fox.

“I have to help him.”

“My love,” Aleksander says, curling his fingers around your wrist to prevent you from leaving. “Be careful, please.”

You nod, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss to his scarred cheek.

As you close the door behind you, Alina is tossing the Cut wildly in the direction of the fox. Instantly, you clasp your hands together, summoning your power to bend the stones and scraps of metal beneath the ground to create a makeshift shield for the fox. It shatters as soon as Alina’s light hits it, though it gives the fox the opportunity to escape. He scampers towards you, weaving between your legs.

“Are you alright?” you ask him. He nods, tilting his head back as you stroke your fingers through the fur beneath his chin.

Moving your attention over to Alina, you find her eyes bouncing between you and the fox – struggling to piece together how you hold such power over him. To get what you need to help Aleksander, you need to goad her into attacking the stag.

“You think Aleksander is the one mad for power, but you hadn’t even mastered your first amplifier before claiming another.”

She raises her chin at you.

“The stag chose me.”

“Did he?”

Doubt flickers over her face as she glances at the stag. He doesn’t seek her out like the fox does for you.

“The fox chose me. You’ve seen what we can do as one being.” Even in this tether space, where the two of you are physically separated, you and the fox are of one mind. He prowls at your ankles, keeping his eyes on Alina. “Claiming an amplifier is an exchange. They offer you their life, but you have to be the one to take it.”

She straightens herself, resolution in her eyes.

“Fine.”

Alina turns towards the stag, raising her hands slowly as her light shimmers around her. A shiver runs down your spine, and guilt settles in your stomach for a brief moment. Time seems to stand still, as a great blade of light shoots towards the stag. There’s a bright flash, as the light meets its mark and an earsplitting crack echoes through the air that makes your ears ring.

You don’t have to tell the fox your plan. As you sprint towards the unmoving body of the stag, the fox charges at Alina. The sound of them fighting makes you nervous, but you keep your focus on the task in front of you. Summoning a small Cut between your hands, you remove several pieces of the stag’s antlers, gathering together as much as you can carry before you stand and run back into Baghra’s hut.

In response to your arrival, Aleksander lowers himself onto the bed as you drag a chair over to the bedside with the antlers.

“Where do I need to put them?” you ask.

“Collarbones,” he states weakly.

Tugging at the collar of his shirt, you pull the fabric away as he loosens the buttons to reveal the top of his chest. As you settle the antler pieces over his collar bones with shaking hands, his fingers curl around your wrist.

“Are you sure about this?”

Shaking your head, you place your hand over his, squeezing it softly.

“Not at all.”

A weak smile quirks at the corner of his lips, then he nods.

“Do your best.”

Weaving your two hands together, you reach for your power and begin to merge the antlers with his bones. Aleksander grits his teeth at the foreign sensation, and you feel lightheaded at such an exertion. Relief prickles over your skin as Aleksander’s body seems to begin accepting the antlers. Most of the material sinks into him, leaving only a few sharp edges poking out.

There’s a sudden pain bursting over your face, that has stars sparkling over your vision and the sound of the fox whimpering outside has you glancing at the window, distracted. At the thought of Alina Cutting the fox, or burning him with her light, anxiety blooms in your chest and you’re tempted to check on him.

The pattering of paws against dirt soothes some of your concerns, as the fox comes barrelling into the hut. He scrambles into your lap, pressing his face against your chest as he pants heavily. Aleksander strokes his hand limply over the body of the fox, threading his fingers absentmindedly through his fur as he blinks heavily, staring unfocused up at the ceiling.

“You’re okay,” you rasp, lowering your chin onto the fox’s head as your heart pounds wildly, hands shaking as you focus on sealing Aleksander’s skin over the antlers. “We’re okay.”

There are only a few stray notches of bone, healed gnarly beneath Aleksander’s skin. The amplified has accepted him. With your hands free, you grasp onto Aleksander and the fox, holding onto them both in relief. Sweat drips over you both as you press your forehead against Aleksander’s. He kisses you breathlessly, a proud smile on his face as he murmurs,

“Take us home.”

»»---------------------►

Indecipherable voices overlap one another. Your vision blurs. There’s an ache in your head, throbbing as you sway in your seat. It takes several seconds for you to realise where you are, perched on the edge of Aleksander’s bed. The people around you are blurry; only one of them brings your vision into focus. There’s a hoarseness to your throat as you whisper,

“Aleksander.”

He blinks at you, sitting up in his bed as you move towards him. He curls his arms tight around you, griping onto your body with every ounce of strength he possesses. He breathes deeply, and you begin to sob when you realise there’s no unsettling rattle from his lungs. There’s a healthy flush over his cheeks and the dark skeins of merzost are nowhere to be seen.

Aleksander rocks you back and forth, tears in his own eyes as he presses his face into your hair. His words are muffled, but they hold a familiar sense of command as he addresses the room,

“Thank you for your assistance, everyone. Leave us for a moment.”

They are all quiet as they leave the room and Aleksander pulls you back down under the covers, guiding you into his embrace. He strokes your hair, holding you close as you bury your face into his chest. He watches you blink tiredly, exhaustion making your limbs heavy as you cling to him.

“Sleep, my love,” he murmurs. “You’ve done so much for me.” Sleepily, you tighten your grip on him.

“You’re not going to die, are you?”

His lips brush against your forehead in a delicate kiss.

“Not today.”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire

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[ordinaryschmuck]

Hey, do you remember this irritating little turd?

Yeah, that one. From Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends. Remember how it was frequently annoying how he was constantly antagonistic towards his friends, made his own best friend be constantly annoyed by him, and was just sometimes the worst character in the show? Turns out that there's a reason for that.

Apparently, Craig McCracken WANTED Bloo to experience this neat little writing trick called "Character Development." But Cartoon Network, wanting more of an episodic sitcom, gave a big fat no to that idea. Because they wanted this series to have no continuity, they had to make sure that the characters couldn't develop. And that is...nonsense for a number of reasons.

#1

These shows came out the same time as Foster's:

The continuity wasn't MAJOR with these shows, you can still watch any episode at random from either of them and still have a good time. BUT they still had this sense of subtle progression where characters, villains, and little touches in the story. Granted, they're both more along the lines of action adventure stories instead of sitcoms, but KND is a lot more or less the same as Foster's in terms of characters going on goofy adventures and being a comedy for kids. It just so happened that the comedy could be taken a little seriously at times. Besides...

#2

Sitcoms CAN have character development and continuity. You can watch any episode of either of these shows too, BUT there's a noticeable sense of character progression and continuity from all of them. Sometimes it's something simple as a character dating someone else at a certain point or a change in location or even when a character is working a certain job or not. Character development and continuity can still exist and work in making an episode enjoyable without previous context, but seeing these characters grow, even in subtle ways, is great. Mainly because...

#3

Character development is NOT a bad thing. Far from it, in fact. If anything, it makes watching a show more interesting as you can look back at how a character USED to act with a fond nostalgia of "Man, remember when they used to act like THAT?" And then look at how they CURRENTLY act with the sense of, "Wow, this character's really grown up in the last few seasons." And while it feels SLOW in some cases, it gives the sense that the character can learn, grow, and BE BETTER despite how they might have started off. Even Foster's understood this, because...

#4

The Show HAS character development AND continuity. Like how Cheese just didn't exist in the show until a certain point and became a main stay for the entire series. Or how Goo was introduced as another main stay character. Not only that, but after her introduction as this overly imaginative little girl, she learned her lesson to cool down her over imagination so she wouldn't cause the exact same problems in the future but still faced a NEW problem with her imagination that she and the others could learn from. Like it or not, that IS character development AND continuity. It's just that other characters can experience it instead of Bloo. But fine. They wanted to make Bloo a stagnant character who never changes? Sure. I can accept that...Except for one last thing.

#5

DID THEY HAVE TO MAKE HIM SO IRREDEEMABLE?! In fairness, the bus episode IS entertaining, but that still shows how Bloo, as a character, went through regression instead of development. He's not the same as he started in the first season. Heck, he's not the same as he was in the FIRST THREE EPISODES. There, he was written as brash and a bit immature, but still apologetic and polite in certain spaces. He was even about to object to Wilt giving him the bed, but Wilt was too polite to let Bloo refuse his offer. If this was the Bloo in future seasons, he would have guilt tripped Wilt into giving him the bed and would have been the first to suggest Wilt would sleep on the floor.

If the show wasn't allowed to make Bloo develop, I can understand that. Networks and studios can kiss all the asses. But when it got to the point where I couldn't understand why Mac was friends with Bloo anymore, it leaves me wondering why they had to highlight his worst qualities instead of his best ones? To quote MY favorite character in this show, "I'm sorry, but that is NOT okay." The writers have my sympathy, it's not easy trying to appease your network overlords while still making the show good. But if Bloo's an example of anything, it's that studios should trust showrunners more and that character development is NEVER a sin.

[hypnotisedfireflies]

A Social Pariah

@poetic-justicesong sent me some wonderful Joel & Sarah prompts.  I dipped my toe into an early snapshot of their life in Mermaids and it’s a bit of a challenge for me, but it’s fun to push myself so I really want to dig into these.  I’m keeping them as separate posts rather than posting the ask itself, otherwise I might lose track without it floating in my inbox. :)

This is compliant for both DD and SQ.

1/? : The first time Joel has to be strict with his discipline with Sarah, where she usually has him wrapped around her finger.

The sound of Sarah wailing permeated the very foundations of the house.  It broke through her sealed bedroom door, bounced down every step and circled round and round Joel’s head like gathering rain clouds.  He ran the dishcloth under the faucet and squeezed it out, bouncing his fist up and down in midair as the little droplets escaped through his fingers.  He took his time cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, alone.  That chore was usually shared between Joel and his daughter but there weren’t no way she was gettin’ her little ass downstairs to help tonight.  No, that was a bridge too far. 

He'd thought that by the time he washed, dried and put away every dish that Sarah would be through with her tears.  But they just kept comin’ and they were giving Joel a stomach ache.  His unspoken mandate of raising a little girl who’d never want for anything or have reason to cry was at war with the fact that she had to learn the hard lessons, too. 

All grown up at eight, Sarah had been counting down the days to Poppy’s birthday party.  They were going to the roller rink, the one styled somewhere between the 50s and a John Hughes movie.  That rockabilly nostalgia of the 1980s which had given boys cheap leather jackets to sweat through in summer and poorly-styled DA hairdos.  Tommy had gotten pretty good at sculpting his own hair like that back in the day.

But then Sarah had broken the carnival glass lamp.

Look, the lamp didn’t mean much to Joel.  It was kind of ugly, bright red puckered with little golden orbs in two ornate little tiers.  It was only in the house because it had belonged to his mother, but Joel didn’t pour his attachment into such things.  People and memory were what mattered, not stuff, and certainly not stuff that looked like that.  He didn’t remember his mother having any particular feelings about it either – or his father – which was probably how Joel had ended up with it in the first place.  Luis had just brought it around one day while he was cleaning out his place and left it behind.  In most of the intervening years since, it had lived in the closet.  Joel had only taken it out recently because … well, they needed a lamp in the lounge.

So breaking the lamp wasn’t the problem.

Once the backsplash was wiped clean, Joel’s soft heart could no longer be overruled and he trudged upstairs to give Sarah one, final chance.  She wanted to go to the roller rink party so much.  It was tomorrow, Dad.  She had made her choice but she was … well, she was bringin’ the house down and making him feel like the worst father alive, so he decided to try just one more time with her.

Joel knocked on her door.

“Go away!”  Sarah sobbed dramatically on the other side.

“I’m comin’ in,” Joel told her and counted to ten, just in case. 

When he opened the door she was sitting on the side of her bed with Hoppy, her wallaby plushie, in her lap.  He was very wet.  Sarah’s face was streaked with tears and she looked so goddamn morose.  The world had ended.  She would be a social pariah. She wouldn’t know any of the stories the other girls told at school on Monday.

He sat beside her with a big, sympathetic smile.  He poked Hoppy.  “He’s getting’ a shower.”

“He says you’re the worst,” Sarah sniffled.  “Meanest dad ever.  You don’t even like that stupid lamp!”

“No, I don’t,” Joel agreed.

“You’re so mean!”

“But you know what I like even less than the lamp, huh?”

“I’m not lying! I didn’t break it!  I didn’t break your stupid lamp!”

He nodded slowly.  There was no sense arguing with her:  the lamp had been intact when Sarah started dancing along with MTV and when Joel came back from the garage five minutes later, it was in pieces. I didn’t do it!

“Last chance, babygirl.  Come on.”

All she had to do was tell the truth.

“I didn’t do it!”  She wailed. 

She’d dug herself in way too deep to give up now.  Being caught in the lie and maybe getting a stay of execution was preferable to admitting it.  She had just come too far.

Joel tapped Hoppy’s nose and came to his feet.  “Guess you’re stayin’ home with me tomorrow.”

“I hate you!”

“And next weekend, too.”

“I hate you!”

He closed the door on her and this time, as he went downstairs, he felt decidedly less guilty.  A real hardass wouldn’t have given her so many chances.

Sarah tried again in the morning.  She’d slept on it and reckoned with her predicament differently.

“I’m sorry I broke the lamp,” she said solemnly, standing before him as he drank his coffee.

He was glad to hear it, but he also wasn’t as dumb as she probably thought he was.

“Okay.  Thank you for tellin’ me the truth.”

“… can I go to the party, now?”

“The deal was on the table yesterday, baby.”

“What?!”

“When I ask you something, you tell me the truth.  Not the next day.  Not in your own time.  When I ask you.”

She gaped at him.  “Dad!”

“So next time – ”

“You don’t even like that stupid ugly lamp!”

“Nope, but I don’t much like you lyin’.  Ugly habit, Sarah.  Thought you and me were a team?”

“I hate you!”

She burst into fresh tears and dramatically flung herself up the stairs and into her room, slamming the door shut.

Joel slurped his coffee and turned the newspaper to the sports section.  “Sure, you do.”

[2010s-nostalgia]

List the facts on why Frozen isn't great!!! I think it still counts as nostalgia!!!

Okay so I'm gonna preface this by saying I don't mind Frozen. I think it's a fine movie, and I really liked it when it came out. However, after every viewing of it I like the film a little less. Call it aging, call it obsession, call it high expectations, but I don't think it is great in any capacity for these reasons (please don't hate me for these):

For a movie that is meant to be about The Snow Queen, it wastes the original story. Elsa could've easily been the antagonist she was originally written to be while also being redeemed in the end. Keep everything to do with their parents, but give her anger; give her resentment. After years of holding on to keeping her powers hidden, and seeing the angry and scared faces of her citizens when she finally breaks, make her anrgy. Then there would be REAL stakes in Anna going up the mountain by herself to talk Elsa into unfreezing the city; make Anna slightly afraid of her and you've made it even more satisfactory when they reunite in the end.

Anna. Lord do I not like the way Anna was written. She's like if Rapunzel's personality was cranked up 100% and made boy crazy. If I'd written Anna, I'd have kept her sense of humor, but thrown away the adorkable bullshit. Make her funny, rough around the edges, desperate for affection, and slightly resent Elsa due to the perceived favoritism of their parents. These are two sisters who should dislike each other in the beginning while also missing what they once had.

Kristoff and Anna's relationship takes up too much time in the movie that could've gone to Elsa and/or her and Anna's relationship. If the message of the movie is that romantic love isn't the only kind of love we should seek, then why in the world is there a song, and almost marriage sequence, about Anna and Kristoff getting together after having known each other for only a day or two? I mean, Kristoff's only point in the movie is to help Anna up the mountain, and that's all he really does for the plot. (Besides introducing her to the trolls but honestly their whole point is to just say "ice in the head not great, but ice in the heart bad" so remove or rework them too)

I actually like Hans' role in the story, but he didn't have to be a twist villian. It could've been foreshadowed early on that he only wanted Anna for her potential power, and his betrayal would've been even more impactul because we would've seen as the movie went on how much Anna wanted to be loved.

Now this might just be me nitpicking, but the setting design is just sooo . . . I'll just say I've seen better castles and towns in Barbie movies. I mean, if you had the choice, would you rather go to Arendel's castle or the Beast's Castle? Plus the character design is also not great. We've all seen that post pointing out that Elsa, Anna, and their mother all look identical with their barely there noses and round heads.

My final point, bringing back my issue with wasting the source material, is that in the original story a girl goes on a quest to get her friend back from the ice queen, despite him having turned into an angry, bitter, and mean person. She believed he was still the person she loved under that magic, and she risked her life to get him back. That is not the story Frozen tells because Elsa is rarely shown to have those ugly emotions.

[evieismol]

Big Bend Chapter Twenty One - Scary Stories

Word count: 2185

Cw: angst, cursing

Chapter Twenty One: Angie

“Penelope, Easton, and I were going to go stargazing. Do you want to come?” I asked as Dave, Penelope, and I walked down the trail. My vampiric friend had arrived to visit earlier that day, and, true to character, had wanted to see Easton again. I had been meaning to invite him to do…something again anyways, so it seemed as good as time as any. Something being the operative word because there weren’t a ton of recreational things to do off work to start with, besides hiking and going to a bar. Neither of those were activities Easton could really join in on, for probably obvious reasons.

Dave paused, then shook his head. “I have to be up early.”

“Ah, c’mon, it’ll be fun,” Penelope said. “You only live once, right?”

“You did not just say YOLO in the year 2023.” Dave laughed.

“It’s practically vintage at this point,” Penelope replied with a shrug. “Like 2010s fashion.”

“That’s not a thing,” I said, frowning as it dawned on me that 2010 was almost 15 years ago.

Penelope shook her head. “It is, I saw it on TikTok. 2010s nostalgia and shit.”

“No. Just…no. Fuck, we’re getting old, aren’t we?” I said, taking that in. It felt like that era had only been a few years ago. Not over a decade ago.

“At least I know I’ll age gracefully,” Penelope replied, giving us a teasing smile. “But, yeah. We’re 24. I guess you’re turning 25 in a few weeks. Wait, Dave, how old are you?”

“25,” Dave replied.

“Dammit. Am I seriously the youngest?” Penelope said, huffing.

“Yeah, I thought vampires were supposed to be old,” I replied.

“Well, it takes a while.” Penelope laughed. “But…back to the original topic…Dave, you should come with us!”

Dave sighed, but smiled. “Alright. Fine. YOLO, or whatever.”

“Yes!” Penelope cheered.

***

When we met Easton later - this time, at the trail, as Penelope and I took my car and Dave arrived in his - the first thing Penelope did was run up to him. Dave lingered back by his car, which I guessed was to be expected at this point.

“Ok, weird question, how old are you?” She asked.

Easton paused, as if considering. “In human years or aphirial years?”

“…yes?” Penelope replied. “Is that like a dog years and human years type of thing?”

“Sort of,” Easton said. “Our days and years are roughly twice as long as yours, and I guess we have ten months, if months are based on the lunar cycle of the main moon but there’s three moons so it gets a little complicated and then we don’t have leap years which probably adds up so based on a human calendar 30-something I think, but I’m bad at math and it would probably make more sense to tell you based on an aphirial calendar anyways because that would match up with the rate we age at and stuff and-I guess you don’t really need to know all of that. Effectively, I’m 21.”

“I honestly did not follow the first part of that,” Penelope admitted. “But what I’m hearing is I’m not the youngest anymore!”

“Unless you go by our years,” I pointed out. “Then he’s the oldest.”

“Just let me have this,” Penelope replied, with faux exasperation. “Besides, from what I did pick up, human years wouldn’t be accurate for his age because it’s like how puppies grow up within like a year but humans don’t except we’re the puppies. Like, okay, Easton, when did you finish school?”

“I graduated college pretty much right before coming here,” he said. “But I did graduate a year early.”

“See? He’s the youngest, from a practical standpoint,” Penelope said.

I rolled my eyes. “Alright, fine. You’re not the youngest.”

“Is she always like this?” Dave asked jokingly.

“I heard that,” Penelope replied. “I just saw a shooting star!”

We all looked up at the sky a fraction of a second too late.

“Man, I missed it. Could have really used a wish,” Dave said, finally walking closer to us. He still stood the furthest from Easton between the three of us, and I saw him glance up at the giant nervously. I once again wondered why he had decided to join us.

“Job that bad?” I joked.

“Oh, more like my whole life,” Dave replied sarcastically.

“You guys know what we should do?” Penelope asked. Not waiting for anyone to reply, she continued. “We should tell scary stories. I mean, dark desert, middle of nowhere, it’s the perfect setting for a horror movie.”

“You have to start, though,” I said. “Mostly because I can’t think of any.”

“I second that,” Dave said.

“Thirded,” Easton added.

“Alright. I have a true one. Y’all ever heard the story of the Whistler?” Penelope lowered her voice, shining her flashlight up towards her face in the picturesque scary story telling manner.

The three of us shook our heads. She grinned. “Perfect.” She took a deep breath, before starting the story.

“There once was this guy who loved camping, so one spring break, he and his friends all decided to go someplace they’d never been before. Big Bend National Park-“

“Oh, come on,” Dave interrupted. “Isn’t that a little too convenient?”

Penelope glared at him. “Don’t interrupt!”

“Okay, sorry,” Dave said.

She continued. “The trip ended up being three of them - let’s call them James, Ben, and Peter. The three planned a camping trip that was supposed to last for a week. They were all experienced backpackers and shit, so this wasn’t something that was out of the norm for them. The trip slowly drew closer, and before they knew it, they were off.

When they got to the park, it was already dark, so they ended up setting up for the first night by flashlight. Nothing really happened that night, and the three of them got up early the next morning to start hiking. They made pretty good time throughout the day, and by the time they set up camp that night, they were all exhausted. James was certain he’d pass out almost as soon as he was in his tent. But that didn’t happen.

Instead, James found himself unable to fall asleep, despite how tired he was from the day’s journey. Something kept nagging out his mind, like some long forgotten instinct warning him of danger. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the sense that something was off. It was then that he noticed the desert had gone silent. No coyotes, no crickets, no toads, nothing.

And then he heard it. It was faint at first, so faint he could barely make it out. As it drew closer, though, he realized what the sound was. Someone was out there, in dark expanses of the desert. Whistling. It was a tune he didnzmt recognize, one that gave him the same feeling of wrongness that had been seeping into his mind all night. The whistling grew steadily louder. James fought to make sense of it. It didn’t make any sense for someone to be out in the desert this far from anything, not in the dead of night. He was certain he would have heard Peter or Ben leaving their tent if it had been them, too. The whistling was close now - whoever it was had to be feet from their campsite. James held his breath, a primal sense of dread washing over him. He somehow knew he couldn’t let the whistler know he was awake…”

As Penelope continued the story, I felt a shiver run down my spine as I stared out at the desert. I felt like I could almost convince myself there was some sort of strange creature lurking out there, whistling an eerie tune. I glanced over at Dave. His expression was neutral. Glancing up at Easton, I couldn’t help but find it a little ironic that he looked the most unsettled about the story. Given that he probably had the least to fear even if the Whistler had been real. It was amusing in the same sort of way that seeing him wearing oversized t-shirts and sweatshirts was, and also an always surreal reminder that he came from a world where he wasn’t a giant.

Penelope finished the story by declaring that the Whistler was said to still lurk out there to this day, looking for more victims. I heard Easton let out a breath.

“Personally, I would simply whistle back at the Whistler.” Dave broke the silence, adding some much appreciated humor back into the evening. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“So, who’s next?” Penelope asked, looking between the three of us. I wracked my brain for a story that seemed suitable to tell. It dawned on me that there were actually more than a couple of campfire stories about aphirials. I quickly crossed those off as possible options, settling on a somewhat generic ghost story and volunteering. We didn’t actually get to telling another story after that, the conversation instead shifting to whether or not ghosts were real.

Dave glanced down at his phone at some point, announcing that he had to get going to get some sleep. Penelope made a brief attempt to convince him to stay, but he shook his head and wished the remaining three of us a goodnight. He seemed ever so slightly more comfortable around Easton towards the end, which I decided to count as progress. I wondered idly if Penelope had picked up on any of the tension between the two of them as I watched his headlights grow smaller in the darkness.

The three of us continued talking for a bit, watching the stars up above. I eventually felt myself growing tired. A sentiment that Penelope didn’t seem to share - not that she ever did.

“We should probably head back soon,” I told her.

“I guess some of us do need to “sleep occasionally” or whatever,” she replied jokingly. She glanced up at Easton. “Wait, if your days are twice as long, how does that work with sleeping here on Earth? If you even need to sleep - don’t want to assume.”

“I wish I didn’t need to sleep,” Easton replied with a small laugh. “It’s been an adjustment. Which is why I’ll agree with Angie on it getting late. Thank you for inviting me, by the way.”

“Hey, I said we should hang out outside of work more and I meant it,” I replied. I stood up from where I had been sitting. Penelope did the same. She suddenly froze, looking off into the desert, before shrieking,

“Shit! It’s the Whistler!” And jumping back.

Despite it being the most Penelope move ever, I still jumped too, my heart skipping a beat.

As did Easton. He flinched back at Penelope suddenly jumping back towards him, her status as a vampire allowing her to move far faster than any humans and managed to catch even him off guard. His hand landed a bit closer to my car than I would have liked.

“Don’t do that!” His tone was far more abrupt than I’d heard from him before. Enough so that Penelope and I both froze. She stopped laughing, the realization that trying to scare someone the size of a skyscraper was a poor choice finally hitting her.

“I’m sorry.” Easton’s tone immediately softened upon seeing our reaction as even more regret filled his eyes. “I-that-I didn’t mean for that to come out so strongly. Or to move so quickly. I’m so sorry, I was just surprised-“

“It’s fine,” I said, interrupting him. “I think Penelope would agree that that was maybe not the move?” I looked over at her expectantly.

“Yeah. Um, sorry. I didn’t really think that through,” Penelope admitted.

“I still shouldn’t have - I should have been being more careful and I shouldn’t have snapped at you, I’m seriously so sorry, I swear I wasn’t trying to scare you guys or come off as-“

“I can’t speak for Penelope, but I was less scared and more…surprised? I don’t think I’ve ever even heard you sound annoyed before,” I said. That was the truth - I’d only actually seen Easton express an emotion besides “polite friendliness” once, which was when he had been crying after that one man had yelled at him. The whole event was a poignant reminder that he was not, in fact, just some concept of a giant, but also very much a person. Seeing the way he’d tried to backpedal so quickly for something like sounding slightly upset over a prank made me feel a wave of sympathy for him. That same remark, coming from me or Dave, would have probably just gotten a “my bad” in response followed by laughter.

I frowned, Penelope’s earlier point about how he was technically the youngest of the four of us coming back to me. Not that 21 wasn’t also an adult, but just that there was some twisted irony in how he also had to be the most mature in spite of that. I glanced back up at him.

“Seriously, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Next chapter

[samaspic31]

Theory : anti-spoiler culture ruined the soundtrack of the kenobi series

I relistened to the series' soundtrack last week and the thing most noticeable about it is.... how unremarkable it is. Aside from the main theme john Williams composed, can you remember or sing anything from it? Aside from few good parts here and there, the impression I have is very generic, bland, and definitely void of the trademarks that make a good, memorable star wars soundtrack in my opinion.

Now I'm not one to hang on established themes if new, equally good ones are introduced; the mandalorian is my favourite star wars music, it proved it was possible. That wasn't the case here. And the kenobi series is, let's be real, mainly an appeal to nostalgia of the prequel movies. The mandalorian made new themes for new characters; and used the force theme for Luke's appearance, because it would feel like it's missing if it didn't. kenobi was almost exclusively legacy characters, some of them with firmly established musical themes. Leia has a theme since A new hope. The series also repeated instances from the prequels that had distinct musical associations: order 66 had the march on the jedi temple, anakin's betrayal, and the obiwan - anakin duel was characterized by battle of the heroes and duel of the fates (whose absence is made more frustrating by its use for the trailer. I don't think it was unreasonable for us to expect in to be used in the series when the promo was done with it).

Leia's theme is not used at all, despite the fact it had come to represent even alderaan itself in tcw's soundtrack. It makes no sense not to use it. They used it for baby leia meeting breha, it was created for her 19yo self, why wouldn't it be relevant to her 10yo self ? Besides, the emperor's theme is also left unused despite being long established in both trilogies. The imperial march is used once, and while I don't mean to swing back and argue they should have used it as much as rebels did, I do think it was too little and felt missing in the village scene on mapuzo

Again I would not be complaining if the music we got was so great that it made me forget what it didn't include. I don't want star wars to become a repetitive loop of rehashing and never any new theme, only callbacks. I do feel those themes should be used, sparsely, when relevant, when telling the story of the characters they represent. And especially in flashbacks. And the "replacement" we were given instead is, frankly, mediocre. I can't help but feel a void listening to it, because if you are reusing so much of the prequels both narratively and emotionally... why leave out such a huge part of what made us feel this way? Why cut the wings off your most emotional scenes by not reminding us musically what it's connected to ?

If you have to make me watch order 66 one hundred times, make it good. I have qualms with tcw s7, but I can't say Victory and death wasn't efficient, fitting, and as good a track as revenge of the sith's order 66 music. And it's just my opinion, but kenobi's take didn't live up to the challenge.

Ok, rant over. Why did this happen tho ? Why wouldn't they use the established themes? This is just my theory, obviously I don't work at Lucasfilm, but my guess is : the composer didn't know who she was writing for, she couldn't know what to use when. They wanted to keep the importance of leia's role a secret at all costs and make it a big reveal, as was when the vader - obiwan confrontations would take place, and the emperor cameo. I wouldn't be surprised if it was kept from even the composer. Favloni kept Luke's cameo secret from as many people as possible, telling basically anyone but mark that it'd be plo koon, and the only reason we did get the force theme in my opinion was that it did not give away it was specifically luke but any jedi. That specific brand of bland soundtrack mediocrity reminds me of what happens with the mcu when composers don't know neither what characters nor the details of the scenes they're writing for, in opposition with the Black Panther soundtrack where ludwig Goransson was informed.

It betrays such a disdain for composers that Disney is fully choosing to sacrifice quality, retaining relevant and vital information, to exclude artists from key aspects of the projects they hired them to be a part of, stifling their abilities to give us good music, and all out of fear of leaks that they cannot stop from happening anyways. Word got out of Luke's cameo, word got out of leia's involvement. Total lack of spoilers is impossible to achieve, and striving for it is hindering the very art it claims to protect the enjoyment of. Besides, a good plot should be able to withstand spoilers, and the whole spoiler circus seems very much a way to manufacture hype by signaling to people that they should want to find out before anyone else. But I digress. My point is that the lack of involvement of the composers make for some very forgettable scores and it's a damn shame

[ryctone]

TOP 13 OVENBREAK COOKIES I WOULD LIKE TO BE IN KINGDOM (In no particular order);

Number 13 - Captain Ice Cookie

We already go insight that she IS in the CRK universe, so I wouldn't be surprised if she ever becomes playable.

Number 12 - Scorpion Cookie

Since she is a relatively recent character, I dunno if she will even made it in, but I just think she would be an interesting character to have in the cast.

Number 11 - Whipped Cream Cookie

He is one of those classic CROB cookies that I'm surprised aren't in Kingdom yet, like, it would be nice to see him in an event again after not being relevant for YEARS.

Number 10 - Birthday Cake Cookie

Here for nostalgia reason, I have very fond memories of playing with her in CROB when I first got it and I would cry if she ever gets in Kingdom. Will probably mess with the lore of the game tho but I don't care AAHHH-

Number 9 - Walnut and Rougefort Cookie

The obvious choice, they are on the same spot bc come on, you CAN'T have Walnut without Roguefort; ultimate sibling dynamic. Besides, Almond already made it into Ovenbreak and we got to see all of them interact in there, so I just think it would be very cool to see how those interactions translate into Kingdom. (Bonus; Rougefort's voice? *eyes*)

Number 8 - Cookiemals

I love these silly lil creatures and would had loved to see more of them after their debut event- Specially with the whole 'being friends with Wind Archer' thing, but then theres the question; how would they work in a game like Kingdom? Would they had to be separate characters or still be a 3 in 1 deal? If so how would they be coded? I definitely understand if they can't be in Kingdom bc of this, but they are still on my list anyway.

Number 7 - Cyborg Cookie

Like dude, dude hear me out I just think it would be very cool if Devsis gave them a robotic/autotune like voice AND expand on their backstory before becoming a cyborg and not just telling it in the comics asdfghjk.

Number 6 - Chess Choco

In Ovenbreak is LITERALLY revealed they are from the Dark Cacao Kingdom, CROB lore said that kingdom was destroyed but in CRK we know it's fine... So you know- Again, we have the same problem than with the Cookiemals, how would they be coded? But also I feel they are more likely to make it into CRK because of their connection to the Dark Cacao Kingdom.

Number 5 - Rose Cookie

Destroys evil by DANCING, need I say more? Also because she was one of my favorite CROB cookies when I started playing (Still kinda is) so I would love it she was ever to be in CRK. (Bonus; Rose and Raspberry interactions? Hell yes.)

Number 4 - The rest of the dragons

Even if they don't become playable, I would still like to see them in Kingdom as bosses for future story events just like Pitaya did in the Hollyberry update.

Number 3 - Lobster Cookie

We had been robbed and bamboozle from them and that is a crime. Now that Dark Choco left the CoD for good, it would be a great time for Lobster to come back at some point.

Number 2 - Mocha Cookie

Mocha is also here bc again, can't have one without the other! And also because Mocha could be introduced for a CRK Sea Fairy centric event (Something that we also got robbed out of) as a major character.

Number 1 - HERO FCKING COOKIE

You can @ me all you want but I JUST WANT HERO IN KINGDOM OKAY! HERO JUST DESERVES BETTER AND HE MEANS SO MUCH TO ME AND I JUST ASDFGHJKJHGFDHDFKHGKJ-

Thanks for reading! ^^

[patronsaintofwant]

could u elaborate on what you dislike about the tlou show? i would love to hear your thoughts /genuine

okay. i will now.

first of all, i will say i have been a long time fan of the games. i remember playing the first one when i must have been.. what? eleven at the youngest. my stepdad needed to do something and asked me to keep the game going, just don't get him killed, right? it's the winter arc. for those who don't know, it's the part in the story where joel is gravely injured, and ellie basically has to fend for herself. so my stepfather has left me alone with the game, and i am suddenly a fourteen year old, fending for myself in the middle of winter.

enough of nostalgia i guess. i played until he came back. i thought about it for a while, and then it went away.

when the second game came out, i took the time to watch through both game plays, then got to play the games through myself. i knew about the controversy that the second game brought, but all i could feel was pain, with no idea where to put it. i had never felt this with another video game, which i had played plenty at this point.

the story was.. well, i don't know. to me, it's nearly overwhelming to think about. there is something so unique about playing through a story. but, i'll say, the games i had played before this had largely been choice-based games, butterfly effect. the last of us isn't, and it's this way on purpose.

the last of us marketed itself as a zombie game, survival, apocalyptic, whatever. this was at the height of the dystopian genre. it was a popular game, large audience. but as people played, they realized this was different. it was barely a zombie game. if anything, as you play, the zombies almost become a nuisance, an obstacle. because they aren't what this story is about. it's about joel and ellie.

now this is where the show comes in.

ellie is immune, but she doesn't want to be. the biggest part of her character is guilt, of being a survivor. ever since she first got bit with her best friend, and she turned, but ellie didn't, she has been waiting to die. she never, ever wanted to hurt anyone. not even people who wanted to hurt her. even when she has to, it makes her sick, it disturbs and traumatizes her. she lets nothing go.

joel, since the day his daughter dies, is a dead man walking. he doesn't want to care anymore, and for a while he doesn't. he doesn't tell tess. they communicate mentally while the torture and kill. it's innate. this is how they are.

and with ellie. well, with ellie, he's an asshole. he's rude and distant. he explicitly tells her he doesn't care about her in the beginning. he wants her to know this. he doesn't want her to care.

but as you the story goes on, joel and ellie have no choice but to be around each other. they don't like each other. whatever the writers of the show say, they weren't meant to be together. they aren't like magnets. that's the point. that's the whole point. as the story goes on, ellie tells jokes, she wants so desperately to make joel laugh, she tells him about the comics she stole. she asks him about his life before the pandemic. she talks about her friend before (even though he had said to keep their histories to themselves). she wants him to know, anyways. she wants him to care. and joel. well. he goes around and finds comics she'd like. he worries about her for no reason, and she does the same. they find themselves counting on each other, returning favors. they find themselves gaining allies, and then in the midst of the trauma of losing them. ellie does things she hates herself for. and joel tells her it's okay, it's okay. she helps him finally talk about her daughter again. it's alright. he's thankful.

they're in this story because they have to be. there are no other choices to be made. they aren't drawn to each other. and yet, they still find they're beside each other.

the point is love. of course it is. but it's also about the consequences of it. that you love, but at what cost.

the last of us is about people, about when they've lost everything, what they'll do to keep nothing. no one is wholly bad or wholly good. but it's no one's fault. but, then again, isn't it everyone's?

all that to say. the characters from the game are not present in the show. it's as simply as that. the world itself isn't even present. simply empty names and titles. and that's fine. it's just a shame.

[appl-cider]

Notes App

While I write most of my chapter notes on paper, sometimes I'll be out and about when I get an idea for a line or a scene or something, so I'll just jot them down into my notes app. My phone is on the verge of breaking at the moment, so I'm just gonna share some of them here.

There's not a whole lot of cohesion between these, mostly undeveloped ideas or stray thoughts. Some have already been developed into ideas in my fics, others I might use later. I just like laying out my thoughts, so hopefully you get something out of reading them. I don't remember writing most of them, but I'll give a bit of context for the ones I do.

There's no warning for when good things end; one day you're in the middle of things, the next day it's all over. (April 2nd, 2023)

I don't think anyone understands me, as cliché as that may sound. but that doesn't mean I'm misunderstood, that people have the wrong idea of me. I just don't think they have any idea at all. And maybe that's comforting, because I don't think I have any idea at all either. (April 11th, 2023)

I think my biggest weakness will always be my ability to stay hopeful. It's not a flaw (it's actually gotten me through some tough times), but I find it o easy to manipulate myself into believing that, even when met with crumbling failure, anything is possible. But sometimes that just isn't true, yet I try to think otherwise. (April 12th, 2023)

This one was written in a car park. I think I had seen a girl whom had turned me down a few months prior and part of me wondered if we could ever have some kind of relationship, platonic or other. We couldn't, but that didn't stop me from thinking about it. I realised I wanted to emulate this feeling in one of my stories, somehow, so I wrote it down.

I can't wait until all this is past me, when I can look back on these times as a wonderful memory. Because when nostalgia makes my nose run and eyes water like pollen on a summer afternoon, I will say: "What a violent, tender, blissful young heart I kept." But not really; I want to keep this heart forever, even though it hurts a lot. (April 13th, 2023)

I wrote this in an English class. I have hay fever and there was a lot of pollen in the air that day, so my eyes were all puffy and teary. I think it made me want to be young forever.

Maybe this is bad but I sometimes wish something terrible would happen to me. i wish I would break my wrist and have to get a cast, because it would be a conversation starter. People would see the cast and they'd be like "Oh wow, she broke her wrist, that's really interesting, I should talk to her." That's what I need: a conversation starter, grafted to my body so that I might finally be interesting. (April 27th, 2023)

I have really bad social anxiety, so starting conversations is a real challenge for me. I don't actually want to break my wrist, but I'd like if I had a reason for people to approach me. instead of the other way around. it would make my life a hell of a lot easier.

I have feelings for her, not in the romantic way. But it's not platonic; platonic is safe, it's static and standard. This is raw and exposed, it's something that makes my emotions bleed from my mouth, not in pain but in vulnerability. And I hope some of it spills from my lips and trickles down to her chin, like the juice from an orange slice. (May 7th, 2023)

Wrote this on a bus at 2am, sat beside one of my closest friends. This isn't how I feel about her, and I doubt it's how she feels about me; I wish it was how we felt about each other, it would make my life a tad easier, I think.

I wish that for a second you looked at me how I look at you, as in you see through my eyes and I can stand in your shoes. (June 6th, 2023)

Gender envy's a bitch, especially when you wanna kiss the girl.

That's all, for now at least. I'll probably dump some more notes another time. Much love.

[heathfall]

Crown of Thorns (Chapter 1)

Chapter 1 of Crown of Thorns is here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46509019/chapters/117110269 or under the break!

We're starting at Chapter 17 of Sunset, where the divergence first starts! No special CWs here, except for mentions of canonical character death.

Ask me if you need anything else tagged, and I'll do my best to accommodate!

Also, ask if you want to be tagged for Crown of Thorns updates :3

Every branch bristled with thorns and, as Leafpool looked closer, she saw that they weren’t thorns at all, but cats’ claws, strong and curved and pointing outward to keep out ThunderClan’s enemies.

Bramble claws! Her initial thought filled her with dread. Brambleclaw was a strong warrior, but he was young, often abrasive and rude, and had not yet had an apprentice. Besides, he met often with Hawkfrost and Tigerstar, training and talking until sunrise. Surely, he would not be the cat StarClan chose to be their deputy, not when it would break the code that guided them.

Leafpool took a closer look at the wall. It rose high and foreboding. A second warrior came to mind. Thorns made of claws. Was Thornclaw the warrior they had chosen? He was often headstrong and an argumentative furball, but he was a loyal member of the Clan and had been for several seasons. Unlike Brambleclaw, he had had several apprentices and had guided the Clan well through the destruction of the forest and the Great Journey, even when Shrewpaw died. The thought of him being deputy drained her dread. He would learn and grow to be a strong deputy.

She woke up at peace with her dream. She had prayed for a sign from StarClan, and she got one. Thornclaw would lead ThunderClan well and serve them loyally and faithfully.

As she left her den, she saw her Clanmates keeping their vigil for Graystripe. There would be no body for the elders to carry away and bury. She wondered if Graystripe would ever find StarClan, so far away from the Clans. She padded quietly to her father's den by the Highledge. It was nearly moonhigh and nearly time to name the new deputy. She had to let him know who StarClan had chosen.

Firestar was sitting in his nest, deep in thought. His eyes were clouded with grief, but they brightened on seeing Leafpool.

"I wonder if I'm making a mistake," he said, half to himself and half to her. "I could call the whole vigil off." She could see the pain in his eyes, not wanting to let go of his oldest friend.

"And then what?" she asked. "Name your deputy days later, far after moonhigh? Let the Clan struggle to see them as legitimate like they struggled to see you?" He had told her and Squirrelflight tales of his struggle to be accepted as deputy when Bluestar would not name him until after moonhigh, moons ago back in the old forest. "We're living in unprecedented times, Firestar. We need to hold on to this one normalcy as best as we can."

"I suppose you're right," he said. "Anyway, you had to have come in here for a reason. The moon is nearly at its highest point in the sky. I have to name the deputy soon."

"That's what I'm here about," she said, explaining her dream as fast as she could.

"Thornclaw, you said?" he asked when she was done, and she nodded. "He's a loyal warrior," he said, and his eyes grew misty with nostalgia. "The first one I ever named, at that." Leafpool nodded. she had heard the story hundreds of times, but didn't have time to hear it again, not when the Clan was waiting outside. "I had about decided to name his brother Brackenfur deputy. He would be a good deputy, but in times like this, I have to remember that I'm choosing the next leader of ThunderClan. Maybe Brackenfur would be ready one day, but Thornclaw is ready now."

Leafpool nodded, though she hoped it would be several seasons before the Clan would see Thornstar. She didn't want her father to die, of course, and Thornclaw could use a few more seasons to grow used to leadership and mellow out some.

"He's one of the few cats in the Clan who has had an apprentice before." He had had two-- Sootfur, who had died to a badger in the same attacks that had taken her own mentor, Cinderpelt, and Shrewpaw, who had died trying to hunt for the Clans back in the forests. Leafpool felt a pang in her chest for her lost Clanmates. "He's a good choice."

"He is," Firestar said, his voice indicating he was lost in thought. Quickly though, he shook himself out. The moon was rising more by the minute, and he had no more time to waste. "If he's good enough for StarClan, he's more than good enough for me. Come on now, Leafpool. They're waiting for us."

[noperopesaredope]

Just watched Lightyear last night, and honestly? Not as disappointing as I thought it would be. I came into the movie with pretty low expectations, mainly due to 1) feeling like it was probably gonna be a nostalgia cashgrab and 2) hearing that it wasn’t that good.

And the cashgrab part was probably right, as there was literally no reason they would have made this besides for the sake of money. Nobody really asked for this film to exist, and it did kinda feel like the writers were scrambling to make a modern Pixar movie while working with the tiny little bits of campy lore they had available.

And sure, it didn’t really feel like what the Toy Story movies portrayed Buzz Lightyear as. It wasn’t a very faithful adaptation in that regard, as Toy Story portrayed it more as an extremely campy 90s space romp, and this movie was not that.

But as I said, I wasn’t expecting for it to be good. I wasn’t expecting it to be a faithful adaptation. I was honestly expecting to dislike it. I actually only watched it as a bit of a hate watch.

However, to my surprise, I actually kinda liked it. It wasn’t a bad movie, just a mediocre movie with flaws. I think part of the reason I didn’t hate it as much as most people is because I didn’t come into it wanting a faithful Buzz Lightyear movie, because I knew that I wasn’t going to get that. So I just judged it as a movie rather than as an adaptation.

And while it had a lot of flaws, I was pretty entertained. I liked the characters (though I’ll admit that I don’t remember their names all that well). I liked the relationship between Buzz and Sox, as well as between Buzz and his lesbian friend (I actually liked her a lot btw). I actually found the part about Buzz constantly traveling forward in time to be pretty interesting, and his mild existential dread was pretty tragic actually. I think that, in a different story, maybe a tv show, that would have been a really cool concept to explore.

Sure, this movie had a lot of holes. But if you suspend your disbelief, it’s honestly not that bad. This movie isn’t all that bad if you judge it as a movie.

I think that if it wasn’t a Buzz Lightyear movie, and instead just a completely original story, people wouldn’t be so harsh on it, because while it’s honestly kinda a mess in some areas, there are others where it shines. It might have even developed a small, dedicated fanbase who would want to explore it more. It also would have worked okay as a series, since its storyline would probably flow better like that and it would have a little more room to breath and flesh things out.

In conclusion, Lightyear wasn’t great. But if you watch it not as a Buzz Lightyear movie, but as just a plain old movie, then it’s a fun movie. Not a great movie, but an enjoyable one.

[pinksapphicprincess]

(💙) 1-11, 17, 34, and 40! c:

Thanks for sending so many, love 🥰

1.Do you have any tumblr crush? If yes, @ them. @moonlight-lesbianism, @cherryykitten, and there's a few others but I'm too shy to @ them unless they do me first, and also the @ function isn't working??? EDIT: nvm it’s working XD

2.Do you like receiving flowers or do you prefer other kind of presents? I like any and all gifts. Flowers are lovely of course, but you can get me anything and I'll be so happy.

3.Receiving or giving oral pleasure? I don't know from experience of course, but honestly I like the sound of both equally.

4.What is your favourite piece of clothing? I have this super cute purple top from the brand Candie's (one of my favorite brands) that I got in plus size from Kohl's. It's so pretty, it's got flowers on it and is just so dreamy and princess-like.

5.What is your favourite dessert? Those sugar cookie with the pink frosting and sprinkles you can get at like every grocery store. Everyone hates them but me and I don't get it bc I could eat those every day they're so fucking good oh my god

6.Sweet or salty snacks? I'm always someone who leans more towards sweet than savory or salty, but with snacks it sort of depends on the mood. Most of my snacks are protein based so that means usually they're sweet.

7.What is the most unusual fantasy you have ever had? I uhh, just saw a post today about cumming in your gf's panties then making her walk around all day wearing them and I just 😳🥵 yes please

8.Sex with multiple people- turn on or off? The idea of it is a huge turn on, but honestly I think it'll be a very long time before I can actually do that. And even then it's probably only going to be with people I consider soulmates.

9.Favourite song recently? I've had Heart Beats Slow by Angus and Julia Stone and Firefly by Skyhill on repeat for the past few days, so I'd say those ^^

10.Date ideas: chilling at home or fancy restaurant? Oh that's a tough one, because I love being spoiled but I also hate leaving the house. I think it depends on the state of my mental and physical health honestly. The biggest question is whether or not the place serves salmon, because if it does that's my favorite food besides peanut butter. And knowing myself from personal experience the only thing I'll order from said fancy restaurant from that moment on is the salmon X3

11.What is your favourite colour of underwear? Pink! But like a soft pink <3

17.Booty/ titties / thighs? Thighs for sure. I love booty and titties, but something about girl's legs just has me 😵‍💫

34.Ability to fly or ability to read minds? Read minds. It would have so many benefits to it, and also I'm so terrified of heights I get heights vertigo so that's a no haha

40.Reveal one of your secrets. I don't care if it's silly. I can't listen to the OG version of Ocean Man without crying because Stephen Hillenburg's death is the only celebrity death I've ever actually cried about. He was dying from his autonomic disease at the same time I was getting my own figured out, and getting sick is the reason for my horrible mental illnesses. He contributed so much to the humor culture of several generations, especially mine, plus of course major nostalgia. So knowing that entire album by Ween (but especially that song) literally inspired so much of Spongebob, plus the fact that the movie was where the story was supposed to be done and was when he took his exit as the executive director (he'd told the story he wanted to by that point but Nickelodeon wanted to continue it since it was so financially popular). He got to end it where he wanted and did so by getting to have that song on the movie. I'm EMOTIONAL about it. And when you go on literally any video for that song (not the meme version obvs), all the comments always say "RIP Ocean Man" and I just 😭😭😭

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 206

Bloodlines/The Name of the Doctor

I just realized that on Sunday I get to watch the 50th anniversary special. On this Good Omens 2 weekend, I get to see David Tenant a whole bunch because he’ll be back in The Day of the Doctor!! (Sometimes being a whole week behind because imdb decided to not include some episodes is kind of a good little serendipitous thing. I was MEANT to watch that this weekend!)

“Bloodlines”

Plot Description: The brothers investigate stories of Mafia-like monster families under Chicago’s streets and meet Ennis, a would-be hunter of monsters

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: would I survive in a high end restaurant/club full of supernatural creatures?? Probably not. Oh, and girlies don’t fair well in spn pilots…

I think this is one of those back door pilots for spin-offs they never did

I’m not saying there isn’t room for breather episodes, especially in 20+ episode seasons, nor am I saying trying to jumpstart a spin-off series BUT MAYBE DONT DO IT THIS CLOSE TO THE SEASON FINALE. There’s like one or two episodes before the season finale, why are we doing this NOW? We just got done with a mostly breather episode but that had SOME relevance. Why are we derailing?! I’m just not interested in these monster mafia families

I’m promised the boys at some point, so I’ll jump back in when we see them. Otherwise,…it’s not worth saying much about this if it’s not going anywhere

Oh hey! It’s the boys!! Not five minutes after I said I wasn’t gonna say anything more. Cool. It’s weird that they…are INCREDIBLY straightforward to this guy they don’t know AT ALL

This COULD have been a cool concept, but nope. Thanks CW.

Don’t you love how they changed the lore about shapeshifters in their own show?? They used to shed their skin when they shifted into someone else, but now? They can just do what they want when they want. Awesome

WHAT KEEPS ATTACKING EVERYONE?? Omg plead PLEASE don’t tell me another girl died

Ok, she’s not dead…yet. I don’t have high hopes. I’m banking on her dying to set up the unbreakable bond between Ennis and David (although David lost his brother already. I did forget about that) So maybe they save her together

It’s just some dude stirring shit up?

This could have been a cool show…the number of things they could have done and now will never do

“The Name of the Doctor”

Plot Description: The Doctor has a secret he will take to his grave, but it’s about to be revealed

It’s so funny and just like him that Moffat thought at all that he should be the one to reveal the Doctor’s name

I think Vastra/Jenny/River would be make for some good fanfic

You know……….it IS really weird that he’s been all flirty with Clara this season while STILL VERY MUCH MARRIED TO RIVER. It’s like they just remembered she exists…I’m…

Jenny noooooooooo. These gents are really off putting

So now we’re on Trenzalor trying to save Vastra (or not-vriska) and Strax

But…that’s not possible. River was saved by Ten. Is this just an empty grave situation?? Or is time being rewritten?? Oh good. It’s a secret entrance to the tomb. And I mean that genuinely. I’m glad Moffat wasn’t allowed to rewrite Ten’s time

Yayyy!! They saved Jenny!!

Ok. Wait. Because now they’re acting like River’s a ghost and has been a ghost for a long time and there’s almost no reason for it because she’s ALSO A TIME TRAVELER. Moffat, you fucker. What are you even doing??

I’m just going to say it, Griffin McElroy did the “mad dash through a place of death filled with ghosts and disembodied voices speaking in rhyme” and this episode doesn’t even have Upsy…it does have the same number of scaled lesbians though, which is impressive

Is the entire reason there’s a weird backup ghost River that only Clara can see so that someone can say the Doctor’s name and no one hear it besides the future TARDIS? Unimpressive

Ugh. Hearing Nine’s “Fantastic!” I miss him

The Great Intelligence had the potential to be cool but he’s just kind of lame because I know there are like…at least six more seasons.

There both so weirdly guarded. On one hand, yes “~*~spoilers~*~” but omg

Cool coolcoolcool writing that Clara “was born to save the Doctor, but the Doctor is safe, so her story is over”

Okay but the GLIMPSE of the War Doctor!!!!!!

[independentartistbuzz]

Indie 5-0 with Bad Knights: Holiday Edition

Bad Knights is the alternative and soft rock band who writes music from life’s raw, messy, and beautiful tales. In 2020, circa when-the-world-shut-down, serial nomad Stig found himself at the mercy of boredom. But from this time of introspection and experimentation came an overwhelming drive to do something he’d otherwise never have done – to write some unique, personal rock ’n roll songs that tell the real-life stories of people he had encountered along his many journeys. As the months passed, this never before musician had soon built up a collection of songs, and finally decided to record them at the continued insistence of some mates.

We spoke with Stig of Bad Knights about the holidays, holiday music, and the band’s projects in this special holiday Indie 5-0.

Let’s dive in:

What is your favorite holiday song and why?

‘Let it Snow’ by Frank Sinatra. A hard choice to make with the range of choices, but simple for sentimental reasons and ones of nostalgia. 

What were the traditions around the holidays in your house growing up?

My earliest memories of the holidays involved putting up the Christmas tree, decorations, and having great food for days. Holidays for us would rarely be massive extended family affairs, as most relatives, cousins uncles and aunts were strewn across the world. My personal favourite tradition, would be my attempts to hide behind the couch and catch Santa Claus in the act. Needless to say, there were many unsuccessful attempts before i found out the truth.

If you could record your dream holiday duet with anyone dead or alive what would it be?

Dolores O’Riordan of the Cranberries. As a rock artist with deep baritone vocals, i suppose the ideal duet would be with a singer that compliments the style of music, and of course, and artist who’s music I’ve always loved since i was young. Besides, her iconic voice and aura could make most kinds of music- brighter, better and more colourful. 

What is the first holiday track you ever learned?

Although not in my native language, Feliz Navidad by José Feliciano was my first memory of a holiday song and also the first song I learned to sing along to, despite not knowing what any of the words meant. Over the years, and when travelling, I soon discovered how it was a song that had equal appreciation all over the world.  You just released your debut album, Letters to Everybody. What can you share about the album? What has it meant to you?

Our album, Letters to Everybody, is an enigma of a rock album, unique in the sense that it combines styles, sounds, and music that transcends genres and sub-genres. The songs across the album wash you with waves of nostalgia, cigarettes and whiskey vocals, droning synths, angelic backing vocals and pristine rock instrumentation. But perhaps most importantly, these are stories for everybody with pertinent and deep messages that inspire hope. 

Connect with Stig and Bad Knights via: Instagram / Spotify / Soundcloud / Bandcamp