#squabbling at 85

[specialvalentinesunit]

[munsonmuses]

Hateful Recollection

Themes: angst, arguing, resentful minds and eventual comfort, labors of love.

Warnings: cursing, drug usage, there’s a slap here and there, Eddie is kind of an asshole but it’s a bit deserved?

Word Count: 4.3k

Part Two

Edward James Munson and yourself had always been a bit…combative, if that’s the right way to put it. Fighting over the space in the woods, the hallways, study spaces, hell even parking spots in the cramped Hawkins High School parking lot. You’d despised each other since freshman year, and with a few mishaps in life, you too were repeating senior year for a second time. It wasn’t often two massive tragedies hit, but that was the case for you. In ‘84 there was the fatal car accident that took your darling father. A staple in the sleepy community, and in ‘85, the strange death of your cousin Heather Holloway leaving your life in a whirlwind. School was the last thing on your mind in the wake of such terrible loss, so the district had understood you pulling out of school for the time being.

Sat at the cramped lunch table, you pushed around the lasagna on your acrylic tray, graying meat and rubbery noodles making your stomach turn as you let your fork drop. Deciding to rejoin the conversation amongst your friends as you tried to catch up to speed with all of the gossip and mindless conversation.

“I just…don’t understand who died and made her queen of fucking the school newspaper, I don’t. I have a great spread on the lunchroom epidemic, how they’re feeding us what is essentially tubed meat. My daddy’s tax dollars aren’t meant to be feeding us mush on a plate.” Libby bitched as you hummed in indifference, though the lasagna presented to you today did sway your internal argument a bit, and Nancy Wheeler did hold the school newspaper with the clutch of a feral dog. Rhiannon shaking her head at Libby’s incessant rage. “I think it’s fine, it’s nice to have something to eat, or at least snack on…” she reasoned as Libby scoffed. “Yeah but you eat like a goddamn hippie. You don’t have to eat the meat or anything…” “my veganism has nothing to do with this argument, you’re killing the rooms energy.” “Well your veganism is killing my appetite.” The two squabbled as you laughed. The two having been your dearest friends since meeting at Camp Love in 1978. Sticking by you through every strange mishap, with the typical teen argument here and there.

You went to add to the conversation before squealing in shocked upset as a carton of icy chocolate milk fell down your back. Soaking through the chartreuse wool of your sweater as you whipped around to face who it was, a very startled set of brown eyes staring back at you. Eddie Munson’s mouth hung agape in shock, knowing how this looked. Having been shoved by Jason Carver and his milk subsequently teetered off his tray, leading to your current predicament as you pushed to stand.

“Edward Munson you did that on purpose!” You accused with a finger to his chest, your nail dimpling his shirt and flesh as he stared down at you. Lips pulling back in a sneer as he smacked your hand away. “It was not, but, honestly? I’m kind of a bit glad it did hit you. Maybe the cold down your back will quell the hellfire inside you, you succubus.” He hissed back as you glared, shoving him harshly. “You’re a complete freak! I bet you hoped my shirt would be see through or something. Satanic and perverted,” you hissed as you gathered your bag, getting ready to leave while Libby and Rhiannon worked on doing the same. Before catching the distasteful muttering of Eddie Munson.

“Just because you’ve got a couple of dead relatives doesn’t mean you get to be a frigid cunt,”

You didn’t realize how fast you moved, whipping around as you slapped him. It wasn’t intentional, or even thought out. Completely unsure of what was going on till you heard the slam of cheek to palm, and watched his head reel back. A hush falling across the lunchroom. Hot embarrassment crept up your neck and cheeks, hot tears stinging your eyes as you took a watery breath. “That was fucking mean…even for you,” you whispered before shoving past him, Rhiannon chasing as Libby followed, stopping partway to look back at Eddie. “That was a low blow Munson…” she whispered, leaving him flapping his mouth open and shut. Nothing worth while actually coming out.

You made your way to your locker, throwing the door open as the door rattled, shoving in your books and grabbing your purse. Decidedly, you were near tears and it didn’t feel like you had the patience to sit through the logistics of adverbs and their proper insertion into the English language. Rhiannon gently placing her hand on you shoulder. “Honey he didn’t mean that…” she tried to comfort as you scoffed lightly. “Doesn’t matter if he meant it, it’s the fact that he said it…I’m going home, can you take Marilyn home today?” You questioned about your younger sister as she nodded gently, wishing you goodbye as you headed down the silent halls. Pushing through the doors and climbing into your little hatchback. Looking over at the banged up van parked beside you as you scoffed angrily. Peeling out of the parking lot and heading home for the day. Your grades were fine, and nobody would notice.

Your small home was a welcome sight, your driveway empty. Your mother working long nights as a nurse to keep you, your sister, and herself afloat. She was never home, delegating most of the housework to you as you keyed in and trotted upstairs. Tossing your bag aside and falling into your plush bed. Pulling your fading carebear into your chest as tears finally allowed themselves to fall, crying the day away as a nap took hold of you.

It was around four in the afternoon when you were roused from your self pitying nap. Opening your eyes to the sweet face of your younger sister. She’d shed so much of her baby fat in the face, blossoming into a beautiful young woman. Yawning lightly as you sat up, stretching out as you gently rubbed her cheek. “Hi Lynnie, was school okay?” You asked gently, voice croaking with exhaustion as she nodded slowly. Holding a little Lisa Frank folder out to you as she swallowed nervously. “I got your…your school work, and um…momma called. She’ll be home late again.” She whispered nervously, breaking your heart. She’d been so much more…involved, when everything was normal, but after your father passing when she was twelve, alongside the irregular life she led with an always working mom, struggling grades, having a childish air about her, and being the smallest and meekest girl in her grade, she seemed to be afraid to take up space.

“That’s okay, we can have a great night just the two of us…” you offered as you pulled her to lie down with you, rousing a gentle giggle from the girl as she turned her head to face you. “I’ll take us to family video and we can rent a movie, and we can get a pizza, and I’ll even let you put mushrooms on it~” you cooed as you poked her sides, earning a string of laughter from her as she chewed on her lower lip. “Can we get the last unicorn please…?” She asked nervously, and you slowly nodded. You couldn’t say no to her, remembering how she’d adored the movie with your father. How she’d named her pet hamsters Amalthea and Schmendrick, and mourned them when they’d passed. “Whatever you want Lynnie…lemme change okay?” You reasoned as she nodded eagerly, getting up to let you change. You were determined to make it a good night.

It was a quick ride to family video, making it in record time. Having donned a purple sweatshirt with embroidered lilies on the front, and made sure Marilyn was ready to go. Parking carefully as you walked in, holding the door as Marilyn raced to the children’s section. Leaving you to mingle with Steve Harrington at the counter as he grinned lightly at you. “Hey there, haven’t seen you here in a while…” he greeted as you rolled your eyes. “Moneys been a bit tight, so I’m sorry I haven’t been here to grace you with my presence…” you mocked as he laughed. “You know I won’t charge you…so what’s the real reason?” He pried as you laughed lightly. “You got me there…I just haven’t had the time.” You explained as he nodded in understanding. He’d been a longtime friend, and had been coming by with premade casseroles after both funerals, mostly urged by his mother, but that’s didn’t dampen the sentiment. You valued Steve, and understood that he knew what it was like to feel like you had no support system.

You’d realized it was taking a while for Marilyn to come back as you excused yourself, walking the aisles to find your sister. Seeing her mop of red curls, stopping at the sight of the metal head helping her reach the VHS on the top shelf. Furrowing your brows as you eaves dropped. “Great choice, Annie…” he quipped at her as she meekly thanked him, earning a light laugh from him. “I loved this movie when it came out, but between you and me I was scared of the harpy…” he said in a loud whisper as she laughed. “That’s dumb…” she mumbled as he nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it is huh?” The interaction strangely made your blood boil, walking over and placing a hand on her shoulder as Eddie frowned lightly. His face still a bit red from the altercation earlier that day.

“What’re you here for Munson, some sort of freakish torture porn?” You gestured towards the case in his hand as he scoffed. “Actually it’s return of the living dead and American werewolf in London.” He retorted as you scoffed. “Not much of a difference,” you quipped before pushing past him, catching Marilyn waving him bye out of the corner of your eye as you went to the counter. Wishing Steve a great day and leaving without another word.

A few hours later you were back home, getting your pizzas on a plate as you heard Marilyn setting up in the living room. The intro song playing as she hummed along, earning an intentionally obnoxious rendition from you as she laughed loudly. Getting onto the couch as you gave her the plate with greasy slices, sitting through the movie with only a few questions and a full belly by the end. Sending your sister to shower and work on homework as you retired to your room. Getting changed for the night and sitting at your desk, working on your biology homework well into the night, soothed by the rain pattering against your window. Not realizing how much time had passed before hearing a soft knock on the doorframe. Turning to face your sister. “You heading to bed honey?” You asked as she nodded carefully, wringing out her fingers as you turned fully around. “What’s up sugar…?” You asked as she teetered on both feet. “Why are you so mean to Eddie?” She asked as you frowned lightly. “What do you mean Marilyn…?” You pried as she whimpered, as if whatever she said next might cause some terrible Rube Goldberg chain of devastation to occur. “I don’t…get why you’re so mean to him…you guys used to be best friends,” she whispered as you sighed. “Go to bed Marilyn…I love you.” You mumbled as she muttered it back and left. That was enough to draw any energy you had left. Climbing into bed as her words replayed in your head.

The next day seemed to be easier, getting to school early, and blazing through your first four periods. A few grades coming back to you as you tucked the papers into your folder, bold ‘A’s and B’s’ smattered across the upper corners as you grinned. Now heading to the woods behind the football field with Libby and Rhiannon, choosing to forego the meatloaf that the cafeteria was serving.

“You can’t even call that meatloaf, you can call it meatloaf? Like with a question mark at the end, because you can’t even confirm it’s real meat,” Libby complained as her Chuck Taylor’s trudged through the leaves, the soft earth gently squishing beneath your soles as you sighed. Her tangents about school lunch were strange, especially considering she didn’t eat school lunch. Rhiannon scoffing lightly as she followed, rooting through her messenger bag and pulling out her altoid tin as she snapped her gum carefully. “Well some people could say the same thing about you eating sushi Lib,” she argued, earning a defending argument from Libby as you got seated at the rickety picnic table. Rhiannon opening the tin to pull out a hastily rolled joint. Lighting it carefully and passing it around the table as you took a decent puff. Coughing and sputtering as you laughed nervously. “Sorry, I’m sorry!” You giggled out through coughs as Libby snatched the joint eagerly. It continued passing around till you heard the crunch of leaves and rapidly worked on disposing of the evidence, eyes wide before relaxing harshly at the sight of Eddie Munson with lunchpail and corroded coffin in hand as you scoffed loudly.

“You need to leave. This is my turf. So move.” He ordered harshly as his little band of misfits tried to protest with ‘Eddie lets just go to the van’ or ‘Eddie calms on man’ as you turned around quietly and hummed. “Hi Gareth, hi Grant, hi Jeff,” you greet gently as they waved back gently. Humming contentedly before your eyes shifted back to a fuming Eddie Munson. His fingers flexing and face screwed up in contempt. “Get the fuck out of here, I swear to god you do it just to irk me.” He snapped as you guffawed at his confidence. “Typical of you to think my life revolves around you.” You retorted, an argument beginning to kick up as your insults were hurled at one another.

“No! No you think you can get away with anything because of your tragedy! Poor me! Oh poor baby! Everyone let me off easy and pity me, because I feed off of your attention! Like the succubus that you are,” Eddie hissed as you felt your hands clenching the denim of your jeans. Shuddering angrily as you spat back venom.

“It’s not my fault people were there for me when my parent died, not you.” You hissed, the realization of what you’d said dawning on you as his face fell. “Fuck, Eddie I’m sorry-“ you started as he shoved you back, feeling the leaves crunch into your back as he seemed to tremble, near tears. “That was way fucking meaner than it needed to be.” His voice was watery as you frowned, knowing his cruel of you it was to mention the passing of his mother. “Fuck you.” He whispered as he turned heel and walked off, followed off by his friends. Your own staring at you nervously.

“You guys know I didn’t mean that…right?” You questioned as they looked between each other, silently deciding who should be the one to answer you, Rhiannon sighing as she went to help you stand. “Honey, just because you didn’t mean it doesn’t mean it hurts any less. You were so angry at Eddie yesterday for saying something he didn’t mean…and you slapped him. I think you’re both in the wrong to be truthful,” she insisted as you muttered excuses under your breath, earning a look from Libby as you frowned gently. “Fine, okay, I’m an asshole!” You insisted angrily as you puttered loudly. Carefully gathering up your things and heading back towards the school. You’d have to make the rest of the day go by as smoothly as possible.

English was fine, and biology was wonderfully easy, until you were delegated into pairs for whatever in class research you had for a pairs project. Drawing popsicle sticks with numbers on the end, as the class went one by one listing their numbers, soon enough getting to you as you sighed. “I have eight.” You spoke, being spoken over by Eddie Munson who glared. Going to argue to change partners as Mr. Birmingham tutted loudly. “I don’t care about whatever squabble you have outside of my class, I’m here? I’m the ruling force. You and Munson are going to have to get along.” He insisted as he sent the two of you to one of the tall lab tables in the back. Sitting with a huff as Eddie sat as far as he could from you. Flipping open his textbook haphazardly as he glared lightly. Earning a scoff from you as you reached over and pulled it to the middle of the table so he tried to yank it back. Hushed insults going back and forth before he finally relented.

“I don’t fucking understand why you’re acting like this-“ Eddie snapped as he glared at you bitterly. “Why you’re so angry and mean all the time.” He quipped as you scoffed at him. “You should know why.” Was all you responded as his brows furrowed, not knowing how to respond to you as he carefully got back to work. The two of you remaining…civil, throughout the rest of the period.

The bell rang, freeing you of your hell as you headed into the hallway, meeting with Libby who was flirting with school hippie, and Eddie’s rival dealer, Kingston Richard. Watching as he handed her a crinkled paper, inviting Libby and Co. to a party he was attending tonight. Libby giggling and offering a “yeah~” as he walked off. Humming over at you as you quirked a brow. “I can’t go to a party Libby, gotta take care of Marilyn…” you insisted as she whined loudly. “No you don’t, she’s going to a friends house for a sleepover. I ran into her in the hallway, told me to give you this.” She handed you a little note with a home number and address. Sighing lightly as you agreed carefully. “I’ll go, I’ll go and it’ll be boring and then I’ll have to drive your sloppy ass home~” you teased as Rhiannon joined you both. Hearing about the party as she agreed eagerly. Setting your unsure plans into stone.

You frowned deeply as you had your hair teased to the high heavens, setting the look with some pearly eyeshadow and letting your shirt be cropped choppily. Rolling your eyes as you tested out two sets of earrings for yourself to wear. Deciding on some thick acrylic hoops to match your bangles and rings. Snapping your gum carefully. “So we’re doing this whole party thing on the like tree line by lovers lake? What if someone calls the cops?” You mumbled, remembering that there were a multitude of residents that lived by the water. Earning a ‘pshaw’ from Libby as you frowned. Slipping on your keds and tucking your ID and cash into your bra. Heading out to your car as your friends followed. Taking the scenic route out to lovers lake as you hummed along to Pat Benatar on the radio, recollecting your joint past.

“Do you guys remember meeting at Camp Love? It was on the lake and we camped in the woods…and we got poison ivy?” You laughed out as Rhiannon laughed lightly to herself in agreement. “I remember sneaking out to go night swimming, then the guys convinced us that there were like…snakes.” She giggled out as you rolled your eyes. “I just remember having fun…and I remember being cold because I didn’t have enough blankets, feeling mad I hadn’t packed enough.” You whispered as Libby hummed. “I remember you cried, and you asked around for a blanket…Eddie Munson stayed with you and gave you his,” she said softly as you gulped harshly. “Yeah. That’s when he was twelve and still had a heart.” You retort as you pulled down the dirt road as your friends exchanged looks. Knowing it was a memory you tried to act like didn’t happen or matter. Parking your car and stepping out to a bonfire inside of an old oil drum, clearly having fun as you went to the keg. Filling yourself a solo cup with lukewarm beer and sipping at it, gagging lightly and going to take a seat on one of the many scattered blankets, lying back on the flannel as you hummed along to the music. Listening to the party ambiance as you let your friends wander a bit, having plenty of fun before feeling the blanket dip beside you as you turned beside you. Looking at Kingston who was smoking what was left of a cigarette. “Hey there…” he pushed his sunglasses down and gave you a lopsided grin as you hummed. “Hey yourself…” you crooned as he handed you another cup with lukewarm beer. Humming up at him as you carefully finished up the second cup of piss poor beer, that seemed to be making you sway a bit, the fact that you were a lightweight combining with the lack of lunch from earlier.

“So uh, you come to parties often?” Kingston asked as you drummed your fingers on the ground. “Not really, gotta take care of my sister, but I do love it when I have the opportunity to come.” You said softly as you felt him leaning closer, catching his drift as you put a hand up. “Um, I’m sorry but uh…if you’re trying to like, flirt or something? I’m not the right person to do it with.” You insisted as you looked over at Libby who was doing a terrible job of acting nonchalant whilst watching the two of you. “Libby really really likes you, and I don’t wanna…do that to her.” You explained as Kingston grinned in understanding. “Oh believe me, I’m aware…I’m just as into her, I just had a theory I had to test out.” He insisted as he looked past you. Turning your head to see a frustrated Eddie watching the two of you, blushing and looking away as you’d caught him gawking apparently. Laughing nervously to yourself as Kingston pulled a joint from behind his ear, handing it to you as he smiled. “For your trouble…” he got up shakily, walking off as you grinned. Lighting your joint as you caught yourself glancing back at Eddie who was rolling with laughter with his friends, the firelight casting shadows along his face as you grinned lightly to yourself. The beer softening your hate filled heart as you relaxed once more. Humming along to Seal before hearing the distant sound of sirens, eyes going wide as you sat up. Hearing distant tires treading on the dirt road as you shakily stood, making a run for it as you hissed a string of curses under your breath. The mixture of fear, the dark, the cool chill of the fall, and your inebriation getting you turned around before someone took your hand, sprinting to the center of the woods and pushing you to climb an old oak tree with well worn wooden steps up, nailed to the sides. Easing you up into the center as you gained your bearings. Hitting the blanketed center as you panted softly and looked around. Strangely familiar…and then it hit you. This was where Camp Love had been, where you’d spent nights with a young Eddie who had a boyish face and a sweet crush on you. Turning to look at who pushed you, Eddie’s big brown eyes reflecting the moonlight as you stared at him.

“What are you-“ he lurched forward to cover your mouth as he put a finger to his lips. The sound of the police pattering by underneath. His chest to yours as you heaved gently. Slowly reaching up to take hold of his wrist and remove his clammy hand once it quieted down. “I…thank you Eddie.” You insisted as he just nodded softly. “Whatever…don’t mention it.” He muttered as you gently bumped his shoulder and sighed.

“This is weird, familiar…” he insisted softly as he frowned to himself. “I remember bringing you up here…I remember your braces cutting my lip.” He said with a soft laugh as you hummed lightly. “I remember we were close…” he added, though this had no jog behind it. “Why uh…why is that?” He questioned softly. And in that moment you realized he never knew why you hated him, why you resented every bit of him.

“You were my best friend Eddie…but…when my dad died you weren’t there for me…too busy with fucking hellfire.” You muttered as you looked at your feet. “You only cared about yourself and your interests, you were suddenly too cool for girls, or anything.” You insisted as you wiped your bleary eyes. “I called and went by and I did everything and you didn’t care,” you mumbled as he frowned lightly.

“I did what I thought was right.” He answered softly. “When my ma died I wanted to be alone, I wanted to understand in my own time, I didn’t want answers…I just needed time. I just thought you’d want the same. Which was shitty. I shouldn’t assume, I should have asked,” he insisted lightly. His hand inching over to yours as he linked pinkies with you. “I still care about you…you’re my best girl,” he whispered as he nosed gently against your cheek, earning a sigh from you.

“I care about you too…and I miss you,” you felt tears threatening to spill. “It’s been hard…I miss you coming by, and my mom and Lynnie ask about you all the damn time-“ the tears flowed freely now. “Eddie I needed you…and you weren’t there-“ your voice broke, and the heartbreak washed over him all at once. Pulling you to his chest as you sobbed softly. Petting your hair back as he frowned.

“I’m here now…I promise I’m here now.” He whispered, and you only held tighter, because you could feel that he meant it,

Tags: @munson-blurbs

[mimisempai]

Just a few words to say I love you 16/30

Summary

Just them living happily in their cottage and talking about the future.

Day 16 : Squabble

Notes

On Ao3

Rating G -  50 words

"Crowley, what do you think you'll be doing in a hundred years?"

They were sitting on the bench in front of the cottage, enjoying the last rays of sunlight on this summer evening.

The demon laughed softly and nudged Aziraphale's shoulder before replying, "Squabbling with you?"

"That would be nice."

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

Quote stolen from Law&Order - SVU

Rafael Barba: What are you gonna be doing when you're 85? Olivia Benson: Squabbling with you? Rafael Barba: Wouldn't that be nice?

[hisbutleronhiatus]

It has been 85 days since the Kuroshitsuji hiatus was announced

Bard woke up early this morning to embark on an ambitious culinary campaign: Making a perfect plate of fried eggs for young master’s breakfast. He’ll show Mr. Sebastian what’s what! Yeah, the demon’s taunt that 8 out of 10 of the chef’s eggs end up scrambled and burnt to a crisp was levied at him during a dream after Bard almost died from blood loss at Athena Sanatorium…but it’s the principle of the thing, dammit!

Then Sebastian appears demanding to know why the hell Bard is going off schedule.

And he and the chef begin to squabble.

And the eggs, left untended, do in fact end up burnt to a crisp.

[vivaciousoceans]

What exact moment do you think Rafael and Liv both started to see the other in a different light?

Tried to answer this earlier and then tumblr ate it, so we’re going to try again.

I’m currently on season 16 of my rewatch, so I feel comfortable saying that Rafael started seeing Olivia different after the w*lliam lewis trial. He’s so much more tender and soft with her afterwards, even after the trial he’s always looking to her for guidance. At one point in Comic Perversion he even says that he wants her to stay commanding officer, so she needs to stop bringing him impossible cases, when he could literally just decide not prosecute. He becomes fiercely protective over her, when Tino, Ellie Porters pimp threatens her, he gets up in the guys face. He switches between wanting to protect her and being in awe of how strong she is!!! He looks at her with heart eyes at every moment.

Olivia is a classic case of he fell first but she fell harder. I think for Rafael it was just a crush at first, a like, and maybe he fell in love, love later, but Olivia fell in love hard. I think it happened in between Downloaded Child in season 15 and December Solstice in season 16, where we get the iconic “squabbling with you”. In Downloaded Child, when she and Cassidy break up, she mentions wanting to grow old with someone and have kids, a family. By season 16, she has Noah, she has a baby, something she’s wanted for so long, all that’s missing is someone to grow old with. So when Rafael asks her, what are you going to be doing at 85, and she says squabbling with you, that’s a love confession. That’s her saying she wants to grow old with him, in whatever way she gets to.

Just thinking about this is making go insane!!!! I think most people can admit that Rafael canonically loves Olivia, but Liv literally wants to grow old with that man. Anyways thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

[tokuvivor]

I don’t talk a lot about baseball on here. But 85 years ago today, Lou Gehrig, one of the greatest to ever play the game, a little over two months removed from taking himself out of the Yankees’ lineup-and never returning to it-addressed the Yankee Stadium faithful about his condition-one that was slowly killing him and would eventually bear his name, ultimately announcing his retirement from the game he loved so much. He said that even though he got this supposedly bad break, he still found himself lucky at all he had been given in his 36 years. As follows:

"Fans, for the past two weeks you have been reading about the bad break I got. Yet today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of this earth. I have been in ballparks for seventeen years and have never received anything but kindness and encouragement from you fans.

"Look at these grand men. Which of you wouldn't consider it the highlight of his career just to associate with them for even one day? Sure, I'm lucky. Who wouldn't consider it an honor to have known Jacob Ruppert? Also, the builder of baseball's greatest empire, Ed Barrow? To have spent six years with that wonderful little fellow, Miller Huggins? Then to have spent the next nine years with that outstanding leader, that smart student of psychology, the best manager in baseball today, Joe McCarthy? Sure, I'm lucky.

"When the New York Giants, a team you would give your right arm to beat, and vice versa, sends you a gift - that's something. When everybody down to the groundskeepers and those boys in white coats remember you with trophies - that's something. When you have a wonderful mother-in-law who takes sides with you in squabbles with her own daughter - that's something. When you have a father and a mother who work all their lives so you can have an education and build your body - it's a blessing. When you have a wife who has been a tower of strength and shown more courage than you dreamed existed - that's the finest I know.

"So I close in saying that I might have been given a bad break, but I've got an awful lot to live for.”

-Lou Gehrig, 1903-1941

Thank you, Lou Gehrig, and may you live on in history.

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

Logan: What are you going to be doing when you're 85?

Roman: Squabbling with you?

Logan... Wouldn't that be nice.

[ifyouhappentoremember]

Not to be nosy on main but what happened with the Ben AMA at the end? It was going fine when I went to bed (outside of him sounding a bit full of himself) but when I checked again this afternoon there was a mod comment on a different post about how both Ben and the people he argued with went too far and should take a break to cool off?

ALRIGHT, as the posts in question have been deleted, I'm going off my memory, which will not be 100% accurate. I apologize if I get anything wrong.

So the previous ask touched upon the post in question, but on the Reddit AMA someone asked him why he was so angry about the whole closing situation. His response was long. He talked about going to two different ENTs every day because his vocal cords were going through so much strain when eventually he would get a bacterial infection in his vocal cords [so it turns out the press release was accurate on that front]. He was asked to attend the final performance because he was told by management that he would receive acknowledgment for his run as the Phantom. From his perspective, this did not happen; he went on stage, got shunted off to the side then got pushed aside by an 85-year-old, geriatric old lady who was part of the OBC. Some people interpreted this as an attack on Sarah Brightman and it quickly descended into internet squabbling. I will say that both parties did not handle this in a mature manner and that is why the thread got shut down.

I do remember one of the accounts arguing with Ben Crawford called him an average phantom. It was such a wildly audacious thing to say to him, I started cackling with laughter.

[scotianostra]

On October 4th 1843, Allen Mair was hung for the murder of his wife, Mary Fletcher.

A sad tale for all involved, this is a double whammy, Mair, at 84, or 85 depending on the source, became the oldest known person ever executed in Scotland, and the last recorded hanging in Stirling. Not only this, but Allen Mair, who obviously was a man who held his own importance above all others was also noted for his unusually long, bitter scaffold speech, as recorded in Alex Young’s book The Encyclopaedia of Scottish Executions 1750 to 1963.

Before you start feeling sorry for the old guy read on.........

The crime happened at Candie End or Curshort parish of Muiravonside, on the night of Sunday 14th, or morning of Monday the 15th May that year, by” beating her with a stick or other weapon, by which she came by her death”.

In his youth, Mair had worked for the Earl of Selkirk, moving to America where he made a small fortune in the wool trade. Returning to Scotland, most of his money was soon squandered in petty legal squabbles, leaving Mair a poor man and what has been described in one source as misanthropic, in other words, he was a crabbit auld bastard.

Witnesses at the trial testified that Mary Fletcher had been abused by him for years, including being starved as well as placed in a locked box-bed for long periods of time. one said she had visited Mary once or twice a day and that round New Year when she had gone round, Mary had complained of having a sore back and she noticed she was not walking very well. She also stated, in front of Mair, that she had not had any food from him, as he had a habit of keeping the provisions locked so she could not get them. He shouted at her and wished her in hell with her soul burning. It was claimed he starved her frequently, but her neighbours provided her with what food they could spare, but this was always done when he was out. Countless times, Mair was witnessed abusing her.

The witness, a Helen Bennie last saw Mary on 14th May around seven o’clock when she gave her some supper. Soon afterwards she was aware of the sound of blows raining down and Mary crying out. They sounded to her like hammering. She heard Mary say for Mair to stop hitting her and to let her die in peace.

The next morning, having been too afraid to knock on the door, Bennie went round with some tea. It was then she saw Mary in the bed, bruised, blood covering her shirt and her arms bare. There was blood on the bed itself. She offered her the tea while Mair went to the minister’s house.

Mary told her Mair had beaten her. Bennie sent for a police officer and Mair was duly arrested.

Shortly afterwards, Mary died.

While he was incarcerated in the condemned cell with his legs shackled to a chain rooted in the flagstone floor, he refused food for four or five days in protest. He soon gave up. Condemned prisoner Allan Mair appealed to the Secretary of State for Scotland, but it fell on deaf ears with him stating: ‘The law must take its course’. The conviction stood and the night before his execution he heard the scaffold being erected outside and said what a horrible thing it was to be hanged like a dog.

On waking at 5am on Wednesday, October 4, 1843, one of his keepers read the bible to him and later he was visited Rev Mr Stark. Mair told him he was going to address the crowd and tell them how unjustly he had been treated. At 8 o’clock the provost and magistrates entered the Court Hall and Mair was brought in soon afterwards accompanied by two officers as well as the clergymen who had seen to his spiritual guidance. He was seen to be bent almost double and was weeping bitterly. A short passage was read to him form the bible while he rocked himself back and forth. During all of this he kept wringing his hands. Once this was complete, he was offered a glass of wine but refused, stating he would not go into the hands of god drunk.

The executioner then tied Mair’s arms behind him. He complained the ties were too tight. He was brought to the scaffold in Broad Street, but he was weak, so a chair was brought to him.

He shouted at the crowd he was innocent, that he had been ‘unjustly condemned through false swearing’. He cursed those who had convicted him. He paused so the executioner stepped forward and asked him if he was ready. ‘No, sir, I am not done,’ he replied. Mair turned to the crowd again and stated, ‘I have been unjustly accused, falsely sworn against and unlawfully condemned.’ He went on for another five minutes by which time the crowd was becoming impatient

Executed Today web site give part of his rant as...

The meenister o’ the paarish invented lees against me. Folks, yin an’ a, mind I’m nae murderer, and I say as a dyin’ man who is about to pass into the presence o’ his Goad. I was condemned by the lees o’ the meenister, by the injustice of the Sheriff and Fiscal, and perjury of the witnesses. I trust for their conduct that a’ thae parties shall be overta’en by the vengeance of Goad, and sent into everlasting damnation. I curse them with the curses in the Hunner an’ Ninth Psalm: “Set thou a wicked man o’er them” — an haud on thee, hangman, till I’m dune — “An’ let Satan stand at their richt haun. Let their days be few, let their children be faitherless, let their weans be continually vagabonds”; and I curse them a —

At this point the hood was placed over his head and the hangman adjusted the rope round his neck. He was forced out of his chair and while he was still muttering and wasn’t done raging. The old guy got his hands free and grabbed the rope, delaying his strangulation; the slipshod executioner had to fight off his prey’s clutches to hang him.

The last words I can find that he muttered were....

"I pray that God may send his curse upon all connected with my trial - I curse all the witnesses with all the curses of the 109th Psalm."

The decision to hang such an old and probably deranged man horrified many. The Spectator offered mock thanks to Sir James Graham for sending a message of deterrence to Britain's octogenarians. The weekly condemned the hanging as "an act of barbarism... which will stand as an instance of national debasement."

The second pic is from a Broadside entitled 'Execution of Allan Mair, you can read the full transcript on the link below.

[kangaroorpmemes]

desperate housewives out of context // season 3 based on this video x

“ding dong.”

“they’re probably in there fussing about mascara and blush.”

“he did not hack her up and dissolve the pieces in acid.”

“I said it was a theory.”

“you peed in my shampoo, admit it.”

“actually no, we haven’t had sex yet. we’re waiting until we get married.”

“oh my god, you’re serious?”

“sorry, I can not sit here on my key lime ass and watch you make the worst mistake of your life.”

“yeah, he’s/she’s/they’re/you’re hot.”

“how dare you?”

“how dare you? you had no right!”

“okay, maybe I will share my secret ingredient.”

“I should’ve smothered you when I had the chance.”

“when she/they/he climaxes, she/they/he actually starts screaming out dollar amounts.”

“this is a restricted area.”

“I would like to trade places.”

“before we do this, there’s something I need to ask you.”

“I hate you! I hate all of you!”

“remind me to buy paper plates. we’ll need them until a certain someone can be trusted with china again.”

“anybody have a yeast infection?”

“get up!”

“I’m a bitch, with a capital c.”

“condoms are only 85% effective.”

“is everything okay here?”

“we’re just having a little squabble.”

“I thought it was you I saw. you’re a conniving bitch.”

“did you lose something?”

“I don’t do that.”

“I think I might’ve had a small stroke.”

“you were always my favorite.”

“I saw the man in your freezer.”

“I was just having a bad day.”

“you threatened to decapitate a man over a parking space?”

“how upset do you want me to be?”

“do young people still say ‘awesome’?”

“that doesn’t even make sense.”

“slut.”

“bitch.”

“that’s how someone got chlamydia.”

“no guy respects an easy conquest. I make all my men wait.”

“love isn’t supposed to be that hard.”

“I don’t care if I have to live up to my reputation and strangle them.”

“you’re a good (insert relationship title here).”

“haven’t I suffered enough for one week?”

“where are you, damn it?”

“don’t laugh.”

“that is all you’re getting.”

“oof, for god’s sake, take a bath.”

“may I come in?”

“what’s a garden without a snake?”

“I wouldn’t mind having real food some time, maybe we should go to a restaurant.”

“Like a date.”

“do you want it to burn when you pee? sex kills.”

“I’m unarmed, stop kicking me!”

“oh, now you’re gonna give me attitude?”

“I heard them say you’re bad in bed.”

“hey, do you know how much that was worth?”

“do you know how much I was worth?”

“I’m having a real bad day here.”

[maliro-t]

Happy Witcher eve! Since this is a blogging website, I’m gonna put up a long Blog Post™ I wrote a really long time ago about adaptation just to get my thoughts out there before new material comes out-- book spoilers abound but I don’t actually explain them.

I will always credit The Magicians for changing the way I think about what ‘good’ adaptation is, which is ironic, I know, but the fact that it stumbles so spectacularly in places is part of what did it for me, so ultimately thanks for the mess, I guess! I owe a lot of that to the fact I watched that show before reading the books, which obviously changes your perspective.

But that isn’t the case with The Witcher, and with all this endless talk of show deviations I’m like...there’s some Witcher stuff I honestly do not want to see adapted accurately lmao. I am tentatively curious to see what they do with the Rats & Mistle etc, mostly because I fully just....don’t want to see that story as written on screen but also have absolutely no idea what they could do to change it. I would say Time of Contempt and Baptism of Fire are my favorite books in the series with Tower of the Swallow close behind, so I don’t dislike the Rats storyline overall--in fact, I think it’s thematically very good in the grand scheme of things--but when I first read it, Time of Contempt ending Like That after being my favorite book yet by far definitely put a damper on my excitement to start the next one, and while I don’t hate the story as it is (and do really like the nuance with which the group & Ciri’s place within it is fleshed out in Tower of the Swallow), there is truly no part of me that wants to see people adapt that page by page in uhhh 2023 onwards. Which is complex, too, because let’s say they fix the Mistle/Ciri relationship, give it a consensual start, make it less dysfunctional and low-key abusive: then can they be accused romanticizing the original source material? I mean, they’ll certainly be accused of shamefully deviating, but again, I really don’t mind that. But I don’t think I would prefer a version of them that’s healthy per-se, because the dysfunctionality is part of the point. Like, the Rats are interesting because they’re a bunch of kids who have been absolutely mistreated by society, totally uncared for, and they let their anger at the world overtake them so completely that their only vocation is violence-- they’ve been so deprived of a kind world that, despite their closeness, they barely even know how to properly care for each other, let alone other people. And they're still children! Angry, murderous, un-guided children! For Ciri they represent a kind of ‘cycle of violence’ style trap, which she eventually is forcefully shunted out of. The ‘love’ that she does find with them is fueled by hatred and conflict. But also, it’s like. How do you navigate that without being a) a little too close homophobic tropes for comfort and b) just like. fully unfun to watch at some parts???

That’s honestly how I feel about 85 percent of the Ciri stuff in Tower of the Swallow, which again, is a book I LOVE, and that stuff makes up probably at least half of it. But it’s also absolutely fucking miserable lmfao!!! I simply do not want or need to see it all on TV as written!!! I would appreciate a new take!!! It's miserable and I love it and I don't need it replicated. All three are true. Ultimately, it will be what it is, and I may enjoy it, or I may not.

But anyways-- all of that aside, demands for accuracy always fall flat for me because the books are so specifically literary anyways, with their frame stories, and in universe documents, and storytelling via witness testimony and gossip, letters with old census-style misspelled names, intermittent slices of Dandelion’s memoirs, etc etc etc--lest we forget the random chapter near the end of Baptism of Fire where the whole thing suddenly becomes a story being told to children squabbling over which characters they want to hear about next! This is one of my absolute favorite things about the series, and it’s something which with no uncertainty cannot be even slightly replicated in the show lol!!! So why shouldn’t they figure out what works for them in a different medium? Especially when it means there are many significant characters that we only see in slivers here and there in the books because of the amount of much third-party information being used to convey events. In a TV environment, I think the time they’re giving to flesh characters like the sorceresses is, for the most part, phenomenally well used, and I’ve really enjoyed seeing their takes on them. Cahir is another one I love, and he has definitely been taken in some different directions (although again his presence is so scarce for the first several books that they have that freedom) but he also has Things About Him in the books that I’m glad they are not adhering to thus far!

I certainly have my own disappointments with how changes turn out sometimes, which I’ve talked about a little--I speculated after watching season 2 that part of the reason for the changes that they made (which weren’t my favorite by the end of the season, but which were still enjoyable enough television) were because they felt locked into the action focused monster-of-the-week formula of the first season. That formula was a demand of adapting the short stories, but one which also created certain audience expectations for viewers coming in blind, so a hard turn into adapting a novel with very little actual plot was a risk they weren’t willing to take. (This is something that I later had uhhhh 100 percent confirmed watching an interview with the showrunner where she said this almost exactly lmao!!). I do still think it’s odd that they fully omitted some of the plottiest stuff with Philippa near the end in favor of their invented conflicts (conflicts which ALSO changed almost beyond recognition my favorite Yen & Ciri stuff from Blood of Elves but I digress), but that is the story they told so there really isn’t any point in could-have-beens. It’s way more useful for me to look at the show they are making and decide if it’s still fun or entertaining or interesting or ‘good’ or whatever on its own.

My point is really that a 1:1 adaptation really isn’t possible across media for this series, but even if it were, there really just isn’t a need for that, right? To capture the spirit of a story even with differences is still to honor it, and when the source material relies so much on being a book is there really anything wrong with an adaptation taking a different path through the same woods? Like, their differences don’t actually affect one another. The show being its own thing doesn’t ‘ruin’ the books. Change is not disrespect; it’s just change.

(except for when CDPR just like...forgot that Regis doesn't drink alcohol in the games; that WAS disrespect bc he is literally a character about addiction. but he WOULD be a connoisseur regardless so it is FORGIVEN)

[itsthemorph]

November is Hell Month™️ between films im helping with and nanowrimo so I’ll be a bit busy until that’s all over, but for now have some bttf oc content

This is Julia! She’s a funky lil dude from sometime between 2015-2020 (haven’t decided on a year yet) that gets temporally relocated to 85. She chills there and hangs with Marty and Jennifer, Doc too, though she and him squabble a lot. Very fruity, kinda sarcastic and grumpy, but does enjoy and appreciate the adventures she has

[dxsole]

NPC | Bruno Despereaux

Character Relation: Jasper's younger brother, Didi's uncle, and 85's father.

Bruno is the younger of the two Despereaux brothers, two fair-haired boys who led incredibly different lives. They are only two years apart but are polar opposites of one another from the start; Jasper was always brilliant, always expected to make something of himself due to his intellect, and Bruno was clever but never like Jasper. What Jasper lacked was charisma and charm, something Bruno had in excess.

The Despereaux parents were always cold, almost uncaring towards their children. They gave them whatever they wanted and needed, ensuring they went to the best schools but lacked any warmth and affection. And while Jasper took it well, being a rather cold person himself, Bruno acted out. Where Jasper adapted, Bruno challenged. He wasn’t so much a problem child as he was someone who wouldn’t stand for any sort of mistreatment.

And now, he’s done the one thing that would disappoint their parents most; live a life of crime. Regardless of the smoothness with which he does it or the near victimless perfection of his thefts, it’s still criminal.

Jasper looks down on it and made his stance known but Bruno tended to laugh it off, seeing as, in the end, he made a prettier penny than Jasper ever did. They often squabbled and as the years increased, the squabbling grew worse.

It grew so bad that the two swore never to speak again, cutting one another off. For a while, Bruno regarded it bitterly. But he missed them, the little family Jasper had made and once allowed him to be a part of. Martina was a good woman who had treated him well despite Jasper and Bruno’s constant bickering. Didi had sat on his knee as he told her fantastic stories of thieves and princesses (who were always described as looking just like her) which eventually left to Bruno teaching her a thing or two about forgery and theft...should a wicked warlock try and stifle her, of course.

It was too late when he got word of what became of them, having only resurfaced for one reason: a few years back he had found out that he had a daughter of his own. She had grown up without him in those early developmental years, but she was there. Some bright, gleaming beacon in his life that he had only met after Jasper and he parted ways.

It would have been nice for her to meet her aunt and uncle and cousin on better terms...

[anthonypanics]

I have a (probably pretty cold) take/theory about vampires in the world of darkness setting and how they are probably not related to the biblical Caine.

Before I do, I want to address a couple of things. First, I’ll be using the 5th edition core rules book as a reference point, so if any additional information comes from previous editions, other source books, or some other written media from the franchise, I am completely unaware of it. Second, As I’ll be talking about years and generations, I’ll want to at least address this following text:

Text: [A vampire’s generation does not necessarily indicate their age. An elder might have sired a vampire of the 10th Generation when Columbus sailed; a methuselah could have begotten a vampire of the Sixth Generation last year.]

In short, this would imply that since time between generations are kinda flexible and aging is almost irreverent to vampires, the timelines I would suggest may be considered inaccurate. However, for reasons I’ll get into in a bit, this would not be enough to discredit my theory that vampires are not descended from the biblical Caine, as how frequent the generations can be and how volatile vampires get with age would make such feats impossible.

To begin, there’s no clear date to when the first vampires spawned, as referenced here:

Text: [Caine and the Second Generation: Myths -  The first vampires remain almost entirely the province of legend and theological speculation. Perhaps most vampires who believe in this myth identify Caine with the Cain of the Bible, but anything might have happened under the cover of the first nights.]

While this imply a belief (perhaps among vampire-kind itself) that Caine himself was either the first or the creator of the first vampire. The timelines of later generations would contradict this as quickly as the 6th to 9th generations:

Relevant Text: [Sixth through Ninth Generations: Elders - Mostly Embraced before the modern age, vampires of these generations long-held the ruling places in both the Camarilla and the Anarch Movement, continuing squabbles old when the Renaissance began.]

A quick refresher on when that time period was can be found here (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Renaissance), but we’re looking at vampires embraced some time between 1400 and 1600 CE, giving us around 1 generation of vampires at least once every 50 to 60 years or so. But we’re far from done

Relevant Text: [... most vampires of [the 10th and 11th] generations can mark less than 250 years of age]

Here we put the oldest of the Ancillae to be born (or perhaps embraced) sometime in the 1770s (if we’re going by the year 2020), which would place a gap of 170 years between the previous generation. Now the current generation listed is the 16th generation, and if we divide they years by generation, then we get 30 to 40 years between generations.

With the risk of diving into speculation; if we assume the oldest Ancillae alive  (or maybe still active would be more appropriate) today are only of the 11th generation, then we would be looking into 40 to 50 years between generations and we would be generous enough to place the gap between 9 and 10 at around 85 years. But the trend does seem to be the generation gap is getting smaller in either case, if a bit less extreme. And such a speculative statement seems to imply that the previous generations are no longer living (active) in the setting

So what does any of this have to do with vampires and their supposed lack of connection with the biblical Caine? I want to propose that the most common trend to measure the generations of vampires being embraced are of an average of 40 to 60 years, at least twice as long as a human generation, but for the sake (and risk) of simplicity, I’ll be using increments of 50 years. Doing so we’ll be reducing the year 2020 CE by at least 16 increments, placing my proposed time at around 1220 CE. As you can guess, this year not only is too recent to trace back to our biblical Caine, it doesn't even pre-date the 5th Crusade or the reign of the Mongol Empire.

Now as I’ve admitted to showing you before, there are some significant gaps between generations, with the widest we’ve seen being 170 years, but I’ve no reason to believe that to be anymore than an anomaly given the (admittedly generous) averages I’ve shown as well. Perhaps I should point out some additional information about blood potency and hunger that helps this theory.

Effectively Blood Potency is a mechanic that allows older generations of vampires to gain some additional power over time with the drawback of not satisfying their hunger as easily as younger generations. Generation 4 vampires have a minimum blood potency of 5, which means they have some decent power, but they cannot be satisfied by animal or bagged blood, draining humans parasitically isn’t as effective as killing them via draining. And Hunger is effectively what happens when a vampire doesn’t feed, acting more like an animal than the human they used to and now pretend to be. The game never lists the potency of 3 generations or older, but I would assume they would be greater than 4th generation’s and would be more prone to serving their hunger more than what would be to serve their best interests. So expecting such a creature to survive so long even with immortality or at the very least keeping their mind in tact would be a bit too much to demand.

So unless the generations are numbered incorrectly, the curse of vampirism in the world of darkness have only existed in the setting for no more 800 years and their “Caine” is likely a person born and cursed in the early 13th century, choosing perhaps to adopt the name as part of a religious symbolism relevant to 5th crusade (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fifth_Crusade)?

Now again, I’m probably scratching the surface of the Vampire: The Masquerade and World of Darkness lore. Like I said, I’ve only looked at the core rules and am unaware of other documents and writings. So if there’s anything that I’ve missed, please let me know. Thank you for reading this far, I hope it was interesting or entertaining at least. Perhaps, it could inspire some ideas for your own V:tM games or similar wolrdbuilding projects?

[vivaciousoceans]

Exactly! Theres nothing platonic about her telling him she seen herself still squabbling with him in 85 years. Also, Mariska and Raul don’t play the characters like their relationship is nothing but friendship. That man has shown more jealousy in the scenes where he found out about Tucker than El did the whole 12 seasons. I will never give up on them. As long as Raul is willing to come back, there’s hope. If they ever brought Warren Leight back….

That scene with Tucker honestly confirmed everything to me. Yeah Rafael’s character changed towards Liv after w*lliam l*wis but that could be chocked up to jealousy. The was his eyes flashed and his nose flared after he found out about Tucker? That’s pure jealousy. The writers can say what they want now, hell Mariska and Raul could say what they want, but the proof is in the pudding.

Honestly im secretly hoping that OC gets canceled (sorry Chris) and that’ll change a lot in my opinion. Part of the draw for OC is B*nsler and part of the reason B*nsler is being drawn out and even considered at all is because Chris came back with his own show. Also yeah Warren Leight please come back 🙏🏾 they’re ruining the badass, courageous, and justice-minded woman you adapted. Even if Barson never became canon, Olivia Benson the character deserves so much more. Like seriously she deserves a partner who actually loves in a way that isn’t obsessive and all-consuming to her life.

[fldebtcollectionattorney]

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