#tried to add some symbolism here

[greenfiend]

Back to school (in the apocalypse)

[yusiyomogi]

i actually think there's some significance in the fact that mithrun wears oversized shirt with open collar (it most likely belongs to laios) in the final arc of the manga. i mean, not just that kui simply wanted to draw him in oversized clothes, lol.

in all instances we see young (pre-dungeon) mithrun he's wearing clothes that hide his body as much as possible. which seems normal, until you see what other elves prefer to wear: most of them wear light short tunics with no sleeves and they don't usually even wear pants. here's a comparison to his brother's outfit, for example, as they stand next to each other.

it's not like his fashion choices are unique, but it certainly feels deliberate. he doesn't add any variation to his canary's uniform either, but that's not especially notable, i guess, because a lot of canaries don't do that (i mean, it's still their armor).

but in his perfect world he's also one of the few who always wears this type of clothes. never revealing himself. sitting a little further from everyone else.

he even lies in his bed fully clothed, like he can't ever bring himself to let his guard down, never showing his "true" skin to anyone.

btw notice that his bed is a single bed, even though he's been living with his partner for 5 years at that point.

and that's the idea, isn't it? he never lets himself be truly vulnerable with anyone, even in his dungeon, where people are supposed to like him unconditionally. i think it adds something to the horrible scene with the demon: it's especially disturbing that the demon literally doesn't care how much of yourself you wanna hide, it sees (and eats) right through every protective layer. and we all know what the allegory of this scene is.

when mithrun loses all his desires, he no longer cares what clothes he wears. and in some twisted metaphorical sense it's heartbreaking to see him in a simple elven tunic when he's recovering, the one that doesn't hide any of his injuries or scars or terrible physique.

he doesn't care to hide himself anymore, but it isn't on his own volition. it's something that was ripped away from him, as well as his privacy (a lot of people have to go through this when they're in medical care actually).

when he recovers and enlists to canaries again, he starts to wear full uniform again, but i don't think it holds much significance to him anymore. or at least he thinks it doesn't. we can see that cithis forces him to wear frilly dress at some point and it's implied that he goes along with it (cithis is still an asshole for that btw).

at this point he's fully focused on finding the demon, but i think the sad reality is that he's always been capable of developing new desires. i'd argue that there are already some things he cares about without realizing it, in the main story. but what's stopping him from actually realizing it at that point is that he's clinically depressed. his disability makes his life difficult; he lives with the idea that he's completely "broken", he accepted the reality of living like that and always goes along with what others make him do. so, he doesn't believe in his own privacy anymore. it’s actually something kabru talks about in the adventurer’s bible comic, when he tries to help mithrun to figure it out again, to help him see the value of privacy, of choosing what he wanna reveal of himself. mithrun needed a reminder that he still has this choice like anybody else.

i think the scene where kabru asks him about his past for the first time is interesting in that sense. first of all, i like the symbolism of kabru unbuttoning mithrun’s collar and cuffs, revealing the scars underneath (a good amount of them is self-inflicted). he does so unthinkingly, but in his defence he doesn't know anything about mithrun yet. another interesting thing is that the first reaction mithrun has is covering his eyes with his hands. he's trying to hide. he supposedly has no desire to hide, but this reaction is almost instinctual to him. i think kabru notices this as well (of course he does) and i think it's one of the things that prompts him to voice his concerns about mithrun's privacy later. 

so, what about that laios' shirt he wears in the final arc of the comic? he has to change his uniform's shirt for something else because it's covered in spider's guts. it's unclear if someone puts laios' shirt on him or if it's something he chooses to wear himself. regardless, it's still symbolic for his change. it's not particularly revealing or anything, but it's different from the type of clothes he usually wears, and it's tallman clothes. and in this final arc we can see a lot of his true feelings as well. he's visibly mad at kabru, he shows concern and tries to help marcille, he helps kabru to break out of his spiral. and obviously, in chapter 94 he reveals a lot of what he actually feels and think and shows genuine emotions other than anger. and I think it’s the first time he decided to be open and vulnerable on his own volition, probably in his entire life.

we can see him wearing variety of clothes post-canon and it’s ambiguous how much of it he picked for himself. pattadol probably helps him a lot with choosing outfits and she also prefers high collars. but mithrun knows he can choose now; even if he doesn’t want anything in particular, he always can express his opinion or feeling, like he did with kabru’s food. he always can choose how much he wants to be seen. i’m just glad to see him wearing similar shirt with open collar and rolled-up sleeves on the cover of daydream hour book.

[hayatheauthor]

Writing Rage: How To Make Your Characters Seem Angry

Anger is a powerful emotion that can add depth and intensity to your character's personality. If you're facing issues realistically expressing your characters' rage, here are some quick tips to help you get the ball rolling. Whether your character is seething with quiet rage or exploding in a fit of fury, these tips will help you convey their emotions vividly to your readers.

This is blog one in my writing different emotions series. Go check it out to explore more emotions!

Facial Expressions

Furrowed Brows: Describe the deep lines between their eyebrows, signaling frustration or intensity.

Tightened Jaw: Mention their clenched jaw, indicating suppressed anger or tension.

Narrowed Eyes: Highlight how their eyes narrow, showing suspicion, irritation, or anger.

Raised Upper Lip: Note the slight curl of the lip, suggesting disdain or contempt.

Flared Nostrils: Describe how their nostrils flare, indicating heightened emotions like anger or aggression.

Body Language and Gestures

Crossed Arms: Show their defensive stance, portraying resistance or defiance.

Pointing Finger: Describe them pointing accusatively, conveying aggression or assertion.

Fist Clenching: Mention their clenched fists, symbolizing anger or readiness for confrontation.

Hand Gestures: Detail specific hand movements like chopping motions, indicating frustration or emphasis.

Aggressive Posturing: Describe them leaning forward, invading personal space to intimidate or assert dominance.

Posture

Tense Shoulders: Highlight their raised or tense shoulders, indicating stress or readiness for conflict.

Upright Stance: Describe their rigid posture, showing control or a desire to appear strong.

Stiff Movements: Mention their jerky or abrupt movements, reflecting agitation or impatience.

Eye Contact

Intense Stares: Describe their intense or prolonged gaze, signaling confrontation or challenge.

Avoiding Eye Contact: Note how they avoid eye contact, suggesting discomfort or a desire to disengage.

Glaring: Mention how they glare at others, conveying hostility or disapproval.

Dialogue

Raised or strained tone with variations in pitch reflects heightened emotions.

Short, clipped sentences or abrupt pauses convey controlled anger.

Use of profanity or harsh language intensifies verbal expressions of anger.

Volume increase, from whispers to shouts, mirrors escalating anger levels.

Monotonous or sarcastic tone adds layers to angry dialogue.

Interruptions or talking over others signify impatience and frustration.

Aggressive verbal cues like "I can't believe..." or "How dare you..." express anger explicitly.

Reactions

Physical Reactions: Detail physical responses like increased heart rate, sweating, or trembling, showing emotional arousal.

Defensive Maneuvers: Describe how they react defensively if someone tries to touch or talk to them, such as stepping back or raising a hand to ward off contact.

Object Interaction

Aggressive Handling: Show them slamming objects, throwing things, or gripping items tightly, reflecting anger or aggression.

Use of Props: Mention how they use objects to emphasize their emotions, like slamming a door or clenching a pen.

Descriptive Words:

Verbs:

Roared with fury, expressing unbridled anger.

Snapped in frustration, indicating sudden irritation.

Shouted angrily, releasing pent-up emotions.

Glared fiercely, showing intense displeasure.

Slammed objects in rage, symbolizing anger's physical manifestation.

Grunted in annoyance, displaying impatience.

Raged vehemently, portraying uncontrolled anger.

Adjectives:

Furious and incensed, conveying intense anger.

Seething with rage, bubbling beneath the surface.

Livid and fuming, exhibiting visible anger.

Agitated and irritated, showing growing impatience.

Enraged and wrathful, expressing extreme anger.

Vexed and irate, indicating annoyance.

Infuriated and incandescent, highlighting explosive anger.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[x-brik-x]

I'm seeing a lot of people say that punk fashion is expensive and inaccessible, which is very wrong. here is a list of some ways you can make punk fashion easier, cheaper and more accessible for you, since that's... kinda the whole point.

others are encouraged to add onto this!! (just don't recommend corporations like amazon. not cool.)

1. patches!! you don't need to buy them. DIY patches are not ugly or boring. in fact, they are encouraged here!! DIY, in my opinion, is always the best thing to do when it is an option and is safe to do so.

2. speaking of DIY, spikes!! you can make them!!

cut the top and bottom off of an empty can. cut down the middle of the cylinder and flatten it, so it's just a flat rectangle of metal.

cut out a shape that is kind of a third of a circle, but around 3/4 of the curved edge is taken up by triangle shapes. (I'm not very good at describing, so here's a badly drawn picture)

roll it into a cone, leaving the 4 triangles sticking out at the bottom. this bit is optional, but you can fill it with hot glue to make it more sturdy, just be careful touching the hot metal. I tend to hold the cone by one of the triangles with a bit of fabric wrapped around my fingers for this bit. cut 4 small holes in your fabric in this kind of shape:

and put the spiky bits of triangle through the holes. fold the triangles in on themselves to secure the spike in place. boom. spike obtained. this is one I made and attached to a little piece of fabric to test this method out:

3. battle vests!! (like the base jackets). the best places to buy these are charity shops and second hand websites in my opinion, but if anyone else knows any better options, please reblog with those!!

a good trick I find works well on eBay is to filter search results to your country (or state? can you do that in the US? idk) so that a: fast delivery because local, and b: all the sellers of everything that shows up are in YOUR TIME ZONE.

why is this important? when people sell something for really cheap, it goes FAST. check eBay at like, 2am or something. all the scalpers in your area are asleep. grab the cheap stuff while they can't.

4. sewing!! want patches, but can't sew for whatever reason? I've heard of a lot of people with joint conditions like arthritis complain about the inaccessibility of patch stuff, and that does sound extremely annoying, however:

safety pins!! while they are still a little fiddly, they're much less work so you don't have to fiddle about for long. if you can, you could even ask a friend to help, since it doesn't take long at all I'm sure someone will be willing to help out!! (I know I would, but that's just me, and I love this kind of thing). safety pins on clothes are also widely considered to be a symbol of solidarity, so if anything, you're adding some extra love and meaning to your patch pants/battle jacket.

if that's still too fiddly, fabric glue is always an option. unfortunately this means you won't be able to remove/reposition patches, at least without leaving a massive patch of residue, but if you're ok with that then fabric glue is probably your best bet.

for people who prefer sewing: as for where to get the thread, I've heard a lot of people recommending dental floss, as it's apparently much cheaper and works just as well. I haven't tried this myself so can't confirm that, but I thought I'd share it regardless.

5. where to get fabric!! old clothes. rip em up. you don't need any kind of fancy fabric from the craft store. my patches are made of old jeans that I grew out of.

don't have any old clothes and you don't want to waste any good ones? I'm not sure about other countries, but in the UK, as long as you're not on private property (trespassing), dumpster diving is perfectly legal.

I definitely ;) do NOT encourage ;) trespassing rich people's land ;) to steal from their dumpsters ;)

or tbh it doesn't matter too much how rich the person is, since it's all going to landfill anyway. if it's in the bin, it's free game, but you didn't hear that from me. ;)

please add onto this where you can!! and if I missed something or got anything wrong, add that on too!!

[casdeans-pie]

Dean's ribs are aching.

He presses a hand against his skin, feeling the solid bones under his palm, and tries to imagine the ornate carvings running across them - remembers what the x-ray looked like. But his mind keeps getting stuck on the feeling of Cas's hand, strong and sturdy, in the center of his chest, and the pleasant burn that'd taken his breath away when he'd pressed into him.

A sensation that had been perfectly balanced on the knife-edge of pain and pleasure.

Dean lets out a shaky breath and tugs the scratchy motel sheets closer as he turns over, unable to stop being so aware of it all. A particularly loud snore from the bed next to him tells him that Sam isn't having the same problem.

It only takes another few minutes of Dean gritting his teeth and willing himself to go to sleep before he gives up with an angry sigh.

When he exits the room quietly, hoping to get some air and clear his head, he nearly walks straight into Castiel himself. "Jesus, Cas!" Dean yelps, then catches his volume, glances at the room behind him, and adds in a hissed whisper, "What are you doing here?"

Cas, for once, looks startled and a little guilty. "Hello, Dean," he says, voice rumbling quietly, "my apologies, I didn't expect anyone to leave the room until the morning."

"Yeah, that doesn't really answer my question, buddy. You were kind of loitering."

Cas shifts his weight a little in a nervous gesture that amuses Dean because it looks almost human. "I've been informed that watching over you while you sleep from your bedside is" - he squints his eyes - "creepy."

Dean can't help the huff of a laugh that escapes him. "'Cause it is."

Cas frowns. "And I can no longer sense either of you due to your sigils, so..."

(Dean presses his hand to his chest, echoes of the pleasure-pain running through his ribs.)

Cas's eyes flick down at the movement, but snap back up before Dean can put a name to the expression that passes over Cas's face. "So I have been watching over you... both of you... from outside your room instead. While I still know your current location," he adds sadly.

"Keeping tabs on us like this is still creepy Cas," Dean says, but there's no heat in it. In fact, he's surprised to realise that he really doesn't mind the idea of Cas watching over him- them.

"I can no longer sense you," Cas repeats, more upset this time.

A blue neon sign for the motel shines from above them, casting a moody blue light over Cas - catching the tips of his messy hair, and lighting up his eyes so that they're almost glowing. He's lit up in a way that reminds Dean of the Angel he really is, and it makes his ribs ache.

Dean grips the shirt over his chest in a tight fist.

Again Cas's gaze flicks down.

"What do they say?" Dean says so quietly it's nearly just a breath.

Cas must understand what Dean means, even though what he said makes no sense, because he replies, "It means you are to be kept away from all the eyes of the Angels, and none have permission to know of your location or gaze upon you." Cas reaches a hand up, suspends it in the air, and then lets it fall back to his side.

Dean feels a pulse race through his bones as he impulsively reaches for Cas's hand and places it on his chest, covering it with his own and pressing it down firmly. Warmth that feels like protection and safety rushes out from where their hands press together.

"I give you my permission," Dean says quietly, into this moment they've created, under the unnatural blue light of the motel sign, and the silent night around them.

Cas's eyes are wide and Dean feels his hand shaking. "You..." he visibly swallows and licks his lips. "You shouldn't say things like that to an Angel, Dean."

"Yeah? Well, too late. I mean it Cas. You've got my permission. And I know that means jack to symbols literally carved onto my bones, but it means you physically checking in with me if you want to know where we are - use your cellphone - and if I text you our motel room, and you're not, y’know, doing rebel Angel stuff, you can be our lookout." Dean feels silly all of a sudden and drops Cas's hand, stuffing his own into the pockets of the sweatpants he shoved on before he left the room. "And if I can't sleep, maybe we can talk outside again like tonight. Or whatever."

After a beat of pure silence the light on Cas's face from the sign seems to intensify and Dean can suddenly hear it buzzing.

The handprint on his shoulder pulses in time with the beat of his heart and the ache in his ribs.

"I would like that," Cas rumbles, a gentle smile on his lips.

Dean clears his throat and absentmindedly rubs his chest again. "Okay. Well. Good talk. I should- I should go back to bed- lots of big days coming up- world to save- goodnight, Cas." Dean doesn't want to call what he's doing running away, but he certainly does a good impression of it when he turns around and ducks back into the room.

A soft, "Goodnight, Dean," follows him inside before the door clicks shut behind him.

[7seas-of-ryy]

I Need You | Part 3

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

Author’s Note: I promise there will be fluff! The build up will be worth it :)

Summary: You're taken by strange men who claim you're their target. Will someone save you or will you save yourself?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Torture, blood, angst, let me know if I need to add any others :)

Fear. You had been through so much yet you were paralyzed with fear. They were all closing in on me, taking their time knowing there was no where for me to run. You glanced around one last time, hoping Azriel was just late and he would show up and save you. You needed him.

He wasn't there and he wasn't going to show up. Your mind was racing, this is it. This would be the end for me-

"Back away from her and I'll let you all live" a voice growled

As you turned your head you saw Cassian in a fighting stance. You couldn't move, couldn't fight, you felt cowardly. The fact that none of them looked worried, scared you further.

"Oh if it isn't the Prince of Bastards himself. You see, Cassian, we expected one of you to be here with her or try to save her. We assumed it would be the shadowsinger but you will have to do."

You felt lightheaded, looking at Cassian you realized he must feel that way as well from the slight swaying he was doing. He fell to his knees and that was when you realized they had released some type of gas to knock you both out. Before you could think more about it, darkness took over.

You woke in a dungeon. Your hands bound in chains above your head, you feet chained to the floor. Your head felt like someone poured cement in it.

"Sunshine..psst....hey wake up" Cassian was whispering at you.

Cassian. He had somehow shown up and tried to save me. Why had he been there? You'd think about that later. For now you needed to figure out where you were and how to get out.

"What's going on?" You asked Cass

"I think we're in the Autumn Court. None of them had any of the court symbols but it looked like their men. Do you have any idea what they want? They said you were their target?" He painfully spoke as if he was fighting to get the words out.

It was only then that you looked at him, truly looked and saw his bruised and bloody face.

He saw the recognition in your eyes and told you, "it's ok, you were still out so they wanted to play with me a little. Show me some hospitality, that's all." the sarcasm rolling off his tongue.

You heard the door creak and you both watched as three men walked in. Two you didn't recognize and the other was the leader.

"Ahhh how exciting! Our guest of honor has woken up" he said and sounded truly happy.

He walked straight over to you and back handed you so hard you saw stars. Cass screamed and tugged at his chains. The man watched Cass with a grin and continued his assault on me. He punched me anywhere he could, using me as if I was a training dummy. Then he nodded at his two cronies and they made their way over to me. They started to...no, please no. They were taking off your clothes.

"Oh calm down, we're not gonna touch you like that. We just need more access to your skin so I can view my handy work." He spoke

Cassian was screaming, "Cowards, hurt me instead. Leave her alone"

Once I was fully bare, they left. Cassian looked ashamed that he couldn't stop it. The blood from my face dripped to my body and the pain was too much, I welcomed the darkness, hoping I would just fade away.

I woke to someone taking my chains off of me and dragging me by my hair out of the room. Cassian was fighting against his chains as much as he could, yelling, growling at them.

"No, you son of a bitch, leave her alone! No!" you heard his continued pleas as you were thrown into another room.

The leader was here.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions. If you answer them, you might get to leave. If not, I'm going to torture you to get the answers and then kill you" He spoke as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

"Does Nyx have any special abilities?" he asked

You inhaled sharply. Why were the asking about Nyx?

"Hmm, lets try another, where are the keeping Nyx? Do they have any wards protecting him?" the man asked

You wouldn't tell him anything. You loved Nyx, Feyre, and Rhys with all your heart and would die protecting them. You were a coward when they kidnapped you, not even fighting back. But now you would hold you ground for the ones you loved.

"Don't feel like talking to me...? Don't worry, you will." He spoke lowly

He tortured you and beat you until you felt you were near death, then dragged you back to the dungeon and threw you in. His men chained you up again and left me.

"What did they do to you?" Cass spoke softly, not looking for an answer. He just couldn't believe his eyes. You were bruised and bleeding everywhere, wheezing like you had a couple broken ribs, and he could see the silent tears flowing from your eyes.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't strong enough, I'm so sorry, so sorry..." Cassian kept repeating as you let your head hang and faded away.

When you woke, you saw your friend had a few more bruises than before. No where near as bad as you but still bad.

"They asked me about Nyx" you squeaked out

"Hey, you keep holding on, we're going to get out of here. Do you hear me? I'm not letting you die here." Cass said as the man appeared again.

"Good Morning! We're going to try something new today. I'm going to hurt you - repeatedly - in front of him and we'll get him to break seeing as you don't like to talk to me. Oh, and I know where to stab to keep you alive so we can do this for a while" He said grabbing a long dagger and walking over to me.

You looked forward and saw the panic in your friend's eyes. No, this would only add more guilt to him.

"Cass look at me. I'm ok, it's gonna be ok. I promise I'm ok," You frantically spoke looking at the man chained in front of you, "Don't worry about me, I can take it, I'm ok-" you started screaming from the pain. He stabbed your back with his dagger.

You don't know how long this went on or how many times you were stabbed, you had blacked out for the fourth? fifth? time. When you woke, someone was taking your chains off again. As you waited to be dragged to the other room for more questioning, you heard Cass speak.

"No, I'm fine. Help her instead."

You felt strong arms wrap around you and lift you up. You slowly opened your eyes to see Lucien carrying you out of the dungeon.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

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[skzstannie]

“They hate me”

SKZ Drabble

Ot8 x insecure! 9th member! Reader

TW: none?? If you see something, lmk

Hi everyone! This is my first work on here, and I’m excited for more to come! I’d like to start off by saying this in no way represents SKZ/Yunho in real life; they are simply face claims for the characters.

Please comment or interact in some way so I know how you guys liked it!

“Yunho,” you sobbed, curling into his side from your spot on the couch, “they hate me.”

“Sweetheart, they don’t hate you. I can assure whatever you could’ve done could not make them hate you.” He tries to sooth your shaking form by running his hand through your hair, but you abruptly sit up.

“How do you know that? I was messing up all the choreo last night, and Chan had to re-record my lines for the new song 7 times.” You hold up seven fingers to add a bit of emphasis. “And 7 times is a lot. And then to top it off, I threw up in the practice room because of how anxious I was feeling about it all,” you finish.

“Why does any of that warrant them hating you? So what, you made a few mistakes. I’m sure they’ve all messed up the choreography before, too.” He brings you back into his side by wrapping his long arm around your shoulder. “As for you getting sick, how are you supposed to control that?”

“You should’ve seen them, though. They all had steam coming out of their ears. I don’t even think the 7th recording was any good, but Chan just couldn’t stand to deal with me anymore so he sent me out of the booth. Lee Know looked like he was gonna rip his hair out if he had to correct me one more time, and I could feel the looks from everyone during the whole dance practice.”

“Did you ask them about these things before you left? Or did you just leave yourself to deal with these awful assumptions about the people who love you endlessly?”

“I left right after I got sick, never even told them where I was going,” you huff.

Once you’ve said it out loud, you realize how royally stupid you’ve been, and you immediately jump out of Yunho’s arms to find your phone. “Shit, have you gotten any calls or messages from the guys? I’ve probably worried them sick.” You wrestle around with the contents of your bumbag til you found your, evidently dead, phone. You fumble with your charger before hurrying to the kitchen to plug it in.

“No, I haven’t. Nobody really knows about… us, or this thing going on between us, so I wouldn’t have expected them to.” He gets up from the couch and walks to stand behind you, peering over your shoulder at your phone.

“Come on, come on, turn on you stupid thing.” You repeatedly press the power button, only getting the low battery symbol in return. Your heart’s beating out of your chest with anxiety as your phone finally starts to boot up. “I’m literally an awful person. They’ve probably just about raided the whole city trying to find me.”

“Maybe not, they might still be calm and figured you just needed a night to collect yourself.”

With that, your phone comes alive, and immediately you’re overwhelmed by the buzzing of missed calls and unanswered text messages.

17 missed calls from Channie 🤞🏻❤️

11 missed calls from Leebit 🐰

20 messages from BinBin 😘

15 missed FaceTime calls from Hyune 🫶🏻🫶🏻

11 messages from Jisung 🐿️

37 messages from Sunshine ☀️

24 messages from Menace 🙃🙂

13 messages from Innie 🦊

“Oh my gosh,” you gasp. The longer you stare, the more messages flood your lock screen.

“It’s alright, don’t panic. Just give Chan a call, I’m sure they’ll understand.” He rests his chin on your shoulder and hugs you from behind, trying to provide you comfort. “Or they’ll come around eventually, anyway,” he mumbles under his breath.

You’re quick to find Chan’s contact, and you immediately press the ‘call’ button. You put it on speaker phone, not wanting to be alone in this conversation. “You don’t have to say anything; I just feel more comfortable this way,” you explain, not wanting to unnecessarily drag Yunho into this conversation.

“Y/n! We’ve been calling you all night and looking for you everywhere! Where the heck are you? We’re coming to get you right now,” you hear Chan fidgeting with keys before he yells to Hyunjin, telling him to come to the car.

You sigh before relenting and apologizing for being so irresponsible. “I’m so sorry I worried you guys like that, just another thing I’ve messed up.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about, but we’ll talk about it more when you’re home safe. Now, where are you?” You hear the desperation in his tone. He just wants to know you’re safe.

You realize the slight predicament you’ve come to, and glance up at Yunho, but he just shrugs his shoulders at you.

“I’m, uh, at Yunho’s?” It comes out as more of a question, and you hear a squeal from the other side of the phone.

“What the heck are you doing with Yunho?” Hyunjin screeches, seemingly grabbing the phone from Chan’s grasp.

“That’s enough, Hyunjin. We’ll be right there.” He promptly hangs up, leaving you to anxiously await their arrival.

“Why Hyunjin now? Why not literally anyone else?” Yunho slightly panics, pacing around the kitchen in circles.

“What’s wrong between you and Hyunjin?” You raise an eyebrow, suddenly interested in this new information.

“We don’t really have any bad blood, per sé, or at least I don’t think we do. He’s always giving me dirty looks and I don’t really know why.”

While you wait for Chan and Hyunjin to arrive, you explain to him not to worry about Hyunjin.

You and Hyunjin have always been the closest out of all the members since the very beginning, and he quickly became extremely protective of you. You told him about some of your past traumas, and he made it his personal mission in life to never let anything bad happen to you again. This apparently entails him giving every male you’ve ever interacted with dirty looks.

Speaking about this makes you feel even guiltier knowing Hyunjin has probably been out of his mind since last night, hence why Chan wanted him to go with.

You hear a pounding on the door that breaks up your story time, and you rush over to open it, leaving Yunho hiding in the kitchen.

Chan bursts through the door, with a fiery looking Hyunjin right behind him.

Chan gathers you in his arms, holding you so tight you think all your ribs might crack. You wrap your arms around him, too, holding him with all your might.

When Hyunjin storms in, all he sees is red. “Where is he, huh?” He goes straight for the kitchen, and you tense in Chan’s arms.

“Hyunjin, he did nothing wrong. I came to him last night. Please just, take a deep breath.” You know it’s wrong to try to console him, after all, you’re the reason he’s like this in the first place.

“Why weren’t you answering our calls or messages? Did he take your phone? Did he have you trapped somewhere?” He rants, his hands clenching in tight fists.

You unintentionally gasp, thinking about how horrible this must sound to Yunho knowing he could hear every word. “Hyunjin!” You yelp, “nothing bad happened to me here! My phone was dead, and I was a crying mess all night and didn’t even look to charge it.” You exasperate, pulling away from Chan to go comfort him.

He meets you halfway, meeting you just in front of the coffee table in the living room. He puts his hands on your shoulders, closely inspecting every inch of your skin. You grab his hands and wrap them around yourself in a hug, squeezing him tightly.

“I’m fine, I promise. I’m sorry for disappearing like that. It was really dumb of me. I just needed somewhere to clear my head, and Yunho was the first person I thought of.” You rest your head on his shoulder, loving the feeling of the way he was soothingly rubbing your back.

“Why’d you come all the way here? The guys and I were right with you in the practice room; you know we’ll listen to you any day.” He pulls away slightly, enough to bring one of his hands to your cheek, wiping a stray tear away.

“Because I was scared you guys were upset with me.” You mumble, shying away from his gaze.

“What on earth made you think that? We were so worried about you all day yesterday, wondering why you weren’t acting yourself. And then when you ran off, we had no idea where to look. Had no idea what was wrong.” Chan joined the hug, pressing his face warmly into the back of your hoodie.

“I thought because I was messing up so much yesterday, you all hated me. I saw the looks everyone was giving me. You’re trying to tell me they weren’t looks of annoyance?” You question. Pulling away from them both so you could better have the conversation.

“They weren’t looks of annoyance, well, maybe Seungmin’s was, but you know how he is. They were looks of concern, we couldn’t figure out what was going through that pretty head of yours. We were not upset with you. We’re all aware everyone has bad days, you were bound to have one eventually.” Chan explains, feeling sorry that you’ve had these awful thoughts since last night.

“I’m really sorry I worried you guys. Next time I’ll talk to you before I rush to conclusions.” You give them a shy smile before, once again, you’re pulled into a hug and squished between the 2 of them.

“It’s ok, we forgive you. Now, let’s get you home before the rest of the guys drive over here themselves.” Chan grabs your hand and starts to lead you to the door, but Hyunjin stops you guys.

“I still wanna know why, of all places, you came and spent the night at Yunho’s,” he raises an eyebrow at you, crossing his arms. You hear a cough from the kitchen, and you call Yunho out to the living room to officially introduce him as your boyfriend.

“I’ll tell you two, but you have to promise not to tell anyone else.” You wait for them to give you a nod, squinting your eyes at Hyunjin until he gives in with a huff. “Yunho and I are dating.”

Yunho finally reveals himself from the kitchen and you wrap your arms around his arm. He gives them a tight-lipped smile, not entirely sure how they’re going to take it.

Their eyes get really big, surely not expecting that kind of news. “Why’d you never tell us?” Chan pouts, looking between the two of you. Hyunjin stays silent.

“Because I wasn’t sure how you guys would take it. It’s only been a couple of weeks.” Chan nods his head in understanding before stating that it’s time for you guys to head home.

You give Yunho a hug, and he kisses you on the cheek before you follow Chan out the front door.

You don’t miss, however, the way Hyunjin stays behind for a moment.

“Don’t hurt my best friend.” He says with a stoic expression on his face. He gives Yunho another once over before leaving the house, closing the door behind him.

[pucksandpower]

okeyyyy!

but we need a Grid Kids that maybe y/n and seb were in an car accidente (and y/n took the worst of it) and now the roles are reversed, now they are gonna take care of them

Loving this series so much

Grid Kids: UNO Reverse Card

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the roles are reversed when disaster strikes and your grid kids make it their duty to take care of you

Series Masterlist

The rain is pouring down and the paddock is filled with the usual organized chaos accompanying a wet race. The garages are lively with the sounds of mechanics tuning engines, engineers going over data, and drivers preparing for the race.

Suddenly, a deafening silence descends as a member of the Aston Martin team rushes in, face pale and voice shaking, “There’s been an accident. It’s Sebastian and Y/N.”

The news spreads like wildfire. The paddock, usually filled with the roars of engines and excited chatter, is now eerily quiet. Your grid kids, upon hearing the news, rush to find out more details, their faces masks of concern.

A shaky video from a fan’s phone plays on loop on their screens, showing the aftermath of a devastating collision. Your car is almost unrecognizable, crushed, with the driver’s side visibly less damaged.

George, having seen the video, collapses onto a nearby chair, tears streaming down his face. “This can’t be happening,” he whispers.

Lando, usually the life of the party, stands frozen, disbelief evident in his eyes. Mick, face ashen, tries to make calls to get more information while Lance rushes to find his father to find out if the team has heard anything more.

***

Soon, details emerge that you bore the brunt of the impact and your condition is critical while Sebastian, though injured, is stable. The helicopter is already airlifting you to the nearest hospital.

As the severity of the situation sinks in, your grid kids, in an unprecedented move, gather together for an emergency meeting. The weight of the decision is clear in their eyes.

After what feels like an eternity, Charles stands up, his voice firm yet choked with emotion, “We’re pulling out. We can’t race knowing Y/N is fighting for her life. We need to be there for her, just like she’s always been there for us.”

The decision is unanimous. One by one, they all agree. Telling their teams and the FIA descends the paddock into even more chaos.

***

The hospital waiting room is filled with a mix of team colors. Red from Ferrari, orange from McLaren, deep blue from Red Bull, green from Aston Martin, white from Haas, and black from Mercedes. The fierce rivalry that usually defines race weekends is nowhere to be seen. Instead, they’re united in their concern for you.

Sebastian, despite his injuries, is by your bedside, holding your hand, praying silently for a miracle.

As the hours drag on, the grid kids take turns sitting by your side, sharing stories, hoping their voices provide some comfort, even in your unconscious state.

Mick, teary-eyed, recalls, “Remember when I missed my dad? You were there for me.”

Lando adds, “And when I just wanted milk? You welcomed me like family.”

Charles, voice filled with emotion, says, “We’re here now, for you, just like you’ve always been for us.”

***

As night turns into dawn, there’s a shift. Your vitals start stabilizing and the worst seems to be over. The relief is palpable as the somber mood hanging over your family fades away.

Sebastian, tears of gratitude in his eyes, thanks each one of them. “She’s strong, and with all of you here, I knew she’d find a way to fight through.”

***

A week has passed since the accident and you’re now firmly in the recovery phase. The room is overflowing with flowers, cards, and quirky gifts — each one a symbol of just how much you mean to the racing community.

As you slowly regain consciousness, groggy from the medication, the first thing you spot is a balloon, bobbing near the ceiling, with the words “Speedy Recovery!” It has a little caricature of you in a race car with your cat (in a tiny sweater) on your shoulder. Another one reads, “Get back on track soon!”

Mick enters the room with a tray, “Look who’s awake! I made you my special recovery smoothie. Okay, it’s mostly chocolate ... but it’s the thought that counts.”

Charles follows, holding a peculiar-looking teddy bear dressed in a racing suit. “Meet Racy. He’s going to keep you company. We tried to smuggle Speedy in under our hoodies but got caught so this is the next best thing.”

Lando waltzes in, proudly holding up a t-shirt with “I survived a car crash and all I got was this lousy t-shirt” printed on it.

Max pops his head around the door, holding a full-sized F1 helmet, “You better wear this the next time you get in a car.”

George, with his trademark smile, presents a plush safety car. “To keep you safe and sound, always.”

Lance, trying to contain his grin, brings in a steering wheel cushion. “For those moments when you feel the need to take control of your recovery.”

You can’t help but chuckle at their antics. “You guys ... always know how to lighten the mood.”

Sebastian, holding your hand, grins, “They’ve been brainstorming ways to cheer you up nonstop for days now.”

***

Determined to keep things positive, your grid kids rally together for a surprise. As the evening descends, they transform your room into a mini-movie theater. They even managed to sneak in a projector.

The movie choice? “Cars” of course.

Lance, armed with a bucket of popcorn, declares, “I mean, if we can’t race real cars today, might as well watch animated ones!”

Mick dims the lights and George hits play. As the familiar sounds of the movie fill the room, everyone settles in ready for a night of laughter.

***

It doesn’t take long for the grid kids to turn the movie night into their own commentary session.

As Lightning McQueen races across the screen, Max quips, “I think I could’ve taken that turn better.”

Lando, laughing, chimes in, “And Mater reminds me of Charles after a few too many energy drinks.”

Charles feigns outrage, “That’s unfair! I’m at least 10 percent more sophisticated than Mater.”

You, through bouts of laughter, shake your head, “Honestly, I can’t decide what's better, the movie or your commentary? You guys might have a future on a broadcast somewhere if this whole racing thing doesn’t work out.”

As the credits roll, Sebastian whispers, “This is exactly the medicine you needed.”

Your grid kids truly make the day memorable, proving that through thick and thin, family — in whatever form it may take — is everything.

***

The sun is high and the paddock is buzzing with energy as preparations for the upcoming race are in full swing. As you and Sebastian approach, there’s a sudden almost comedic halt in activity. It’s as if someone hit the pause button on a remote. Everyone turns to face you, jaws dropped.

Lance feigns fainting, “Is it a mirage? Or has our beloved Y/N truly graced us with her presence?”

Max approaches with an exaggerated limp, mimicking you, “Thought I’d get into the spirit of things,” he says with a smirk.

George emerges from the crowd holding a makeshift red carpet (it’s just a red towel he stole from Ferrari), rolling it out in front of you. “For our returning queen,” he declares with a bow.

Charles and Lando appear, each holding one end of a “Welcome Back” banner. You try to turn your head to read it … they accidentally held it upside down.

You’re trying hard to hold back tears of laughter. “You guys are impossible,” you manage to say between your chuckles.

Mick, with a gentle smile, approaches holding a small framed photo. It’s of you surrounded by all your grid kids, taken during a race earlier in the season, with the inscription “Family, Always.”

Touched by the gesture, you softly say, “Thank you so much, Mick. This means a lot.”

“You’ve always been there for us,” he replies. “It’s only right that we’re here for you.”

Sebastian, wrapping an arm around you, adds with a grin, “I think they missed you.”

You really loved your grid kids.

[alexthebordercollie]

Ford's autism

K so I don't think I need to defend the interpretation Ford is on the spectrum. People make jokes about him being autistic all the time. We all see it. What I want to do here is sort of connect together some character details and examine them through the lense of my own autistic experiences.

I wanna start with his hands. It's an observation I've seen from multiple people that Ford is insecure about his hands and often hides them behind his back or in his pockets. And yeah, he is obviously insecure about them. He even mentions his six fingers at times when they aren't really relevant to anything. It just showcases the space this physical deviation of his takes up in his mind. And yes, it makes sense that he's insecure about them because he was bullied for them growing up. I want to add to this observation.

Ford would have been bullied regardless.

The problem was never really his hands. When you're on the spectrum people around you can tell that you're weird. Uncanny. Something is different and feels wrong about you to NT people, especially kids. They will pick any shallow superficial thing they can find as an excuse to bully you and justify the sense of revulsion they feel around you but can't articulate. If Ford had been born with normal hands they just would have made fun of him for something else, it would have been his glasses, or the movies he liked, or hell maybe some good old-fashioned antisemitism. Literally, any excuse they could find.

I know growing up I tried for years to change the things about me that I was made fun of for and it never made things any better. The bullying never stopped. "Fixing" things about myself didn't work because the thing that was actually "broken" was something fundamental to who I am. That realization as a kid was soul-crushing. That there was nothing I could do that would ever make me "normal", that would ever make people like me. I felt like an alien born on the wrong planet.

Ford continues to latch onto his hands as a sore spot because they're something simple and obvious he can point to as an excuse for why he's so outcast. He probably knows by this point that the hands aren't actually the problem. I'd argue this journal entry and his comment about "another failed social interaction" shows that he's aware his hands aren't actually the problem. But, it is a lot easier to fixate on those than to dwell directly on that sinking feeling that at the core of you're being you are fundamentally weird, wrong, unlovable. Ford's a genius. If his polydactyly bothered him that much he could have removed the extra digits. The hands aren't the problem, they're a symbol of a more fundamental kind of pain.

Looking at it through this context also makes the gloves Fiddleford gives him an extra sweet gift given what they represent. A kind of wholehearted acceptance of who Ford is and even a willingness to adapt to his unique needs just to show him love and affection. I think something that hurts me so much about their relationship is that Ford had someone who very clearly loved him as is and would have never wanted him to be someone or something else, and Ford was too stubborn to fully appreciate that.

The same is true of Stanely by the by. He never had a problem with his brother being weird. Another relationship with someone who loved Ford as is but who Ford took for granted. He needs these kinds of relationships in his life. People who embrace and accept him for the weirdo he is. He needs them desperately, which gets me to my next point.

Ford's ego. So it's also a common observation that Ford has a massive ego. He's kind of an ass, to put it mildly. But I have had someone in conversation frame it like the pressure to prove themselves was just on Stanley and Ford just spent his whole life being hyped up and told he was hot shit. This isn't true, or at least it's a flattening of his experiences.

Ford was praised for his genius. This is true. But his own father only gave a shit when said genius showed signs of netting material gains for the family. It only mattered cause Ford could be useful. Furthermore, this genius never netted him social acceptance from his peers growing up. He was still a bullied, weirdo, loser most of his childhood. Add that seeing Stanley kicked out would have drilled into Ford's head that if he couldn't make something out of himself his family wouldn't want him either. Stan was an unspoken threat of what this family does to failures.

Gonna bring up my own personal experiences again. Having set the stage for how it feels growing up on the spectrum. That feeling of alienness that you can't really explain. I loved to write and draw from a very young age. Moreover, as I got older I realized that when I drew, people were nice to me. The only time I got social acceptance was when people were admiring or praising me for my art. So I did it more and more, I devoted myself feverishly to my art. I loved it anyway and would have hyper-fixated on it regardless but the positive reinforcement turned art from something I loved to a need. I NEEDED to be an artist. I needed to be the best at my school. I needed all eyes on my work because it was the only way I could make friends. The only way I could prove that I had value. That I deserved a place in society.

I see that in Ford. I see his ego not as shallow narcissism but as an overwhelming need to prove his value as a person. To be loved and accepted and believing that no one will want him if he isn't brilliant. If he doesn't change the world. If he isn't useful. This is also why he couldn't bring himself to destroy his research even knowing it was the safest and most responsible option. Burning down everything he worked for would mean finally giving up on the fantasy of ever being accepted or valuable.

The sad thing is he's so single-mindedly fixated on this personal goal of proving his worth to the world that when people do come along that love him unconditionally he takes them for granted. These people are statistical anomalies in his life. Nice to have around, but not enough to fix the bigger problem. They aren't reflective of society at large. They aren't enough to prove that he, personally, is loveable. Just that on occasion he meets another weirdo. For a while it's nice. Like a campfire in a barren tundra. But he has to keep moving, he can't stay. Warmer lands are ahead if he can just get to them. If he can just keep moving.

This also is why Ford was so susceptible to Bill. Bill told Ford what he wanted to hear. That he was destined for greatness. That, the fundamental wrongness he felt all his life was something incredible other people just couldn't see. Bill promised Ford exactly what he wanted, but not what he actually needed. Ford never needed the world at large to accept him. He just needed a few good people.

I also think his chemistry with Bill was connected to his autistic experiences as well. Bill is literally an alien. There's no pressure to mask around him. To try and "act normal". Ford can just be himself with Bill and not have to think about it. And sure, he could be himself around Fiddleford, but Fidds is still human. The anxieties of human social expectations are still present. Like when Fidds get him a gift for the holidays and Ford feels a bit guilty that it didn't even occur to him to do the same. He doesn't have to think about these social nuances with Bill.

That said I'm sure Bill isn't what his world would have considered neurotypical anyway. Not that Ford would know that. But Bill was also a strange freak in his own society. Just as outcast, possibly more so. I think Bill sees a bit of his own experiences reflected in Ford. I think he relates to him on a level. Not that he would ever admit it outright due to his own ego. I think Bill's fixation on him after the breakup also stems from Ford rejecting the path that Bill chose for himself. Bill still lives with some sort of deeply repressed guilt for what he did. Imagine how validating it would have been to see someone else like him burn their own world to the ground for the same reasons Bill did. But no, Ford's a better man than him, and Bill can't stand it.

Ok, I don't know how to end this long-ass monologue so I'm gonna call it here I guess. I just wanted to spill some thoughts of mine about Ford as a character. If anyone else wants to add to this with other examinations of Ford's character through this lense go right ahead. I'm just saying as an autistic person myself I understand every choice Ford made. I could relate to why he did the things he did even if I know those were mistakes and even acknowledging that he's kind of an asshole. Ford is a strange man who makes an eerie amount of sense to me.

[lesbianredhoodedmercenary]

RATING THE SINNER'S ROOMS ON HOW INHOSPITABLE TO LIFE THEY ARE

DON QUIXOTE - 6/10 IT'S DOWNRIGHT OKAY IN HERE

Don is the only sinner who knows what "decorating" is. She's got a carpet or mat of some kind so sleeping here would not be absolutely dismal. And they let her keep her fixer figurines which is nice.

HONG LU - 5.5/10 MONEY CAN BE EXCHANGED FOR GOODS AND SERVICES

Having so much gold and treasure chests everywhere probably makes it a bit hard to move around the room. But at least his chair looks comfortable.

SINCLAIR - 5/10 CHAIR

Nice of them to give him a chair to Shinji pose in. Sucks that the chair will give him back pain at the tender age of 20.

MEURSAULT - 4/10 PAGE 77 LINES 12-15 ALBERT CAMUS' THE STRANGER (EN TRANSLATION BY MATTHEW WARD)

"There were others worse off than me. Anyway, it was one of Maman's ideas and she often repeated it, that after a while you could get used to anything."

FAUST - 3.5/10 INTJ ROOM

Well she was given a plain white tile room originally but she had to go and be an INTJ about it and now there's formulas on the wall.

YI SANG - 3/10 GLASS ON THE FLOOR

Similar to Faust, Yi Sang was given nothing but a white tiled room. But he got glass on the floor so it adds an element of danger. We are now entering the "Rooms with potential for bodily harm, be it illness or injury" zone.

RODYA - 2/10 A BIT CHILLY

No matter how cute your fur-trimmed pajamas are, they will not save you from frostbite. Sorry about your neighbors also. Mind the blood.

GREGOR - 1.5/10 TETANUS

While I understand the symbolism of him feeling like just another weapon of war, abandoned when the smoke war ended, there are just a lot of chances to get tetanus here. Not a good place to sleep.

HEATHCLIFF - 1/10 AND IS CATHERINE EARNSHAW IN THE ROOM WITH US NOW?

Not only does he have a roommate who's been festering for god knows how long, but due to being British he's discovered a way to make it rain INSIDE! He will be joining Rodya in the hypothermia club if he tries to sleep in these conditions.

RYOSHU - 0.5/10 FIRE SAFETY

Sorry about your daughter. We put a bunch of candles in a wooden room for you. You don't like the candles because they remind you of how your daughter died? Okay sorry. The room will catch fire any second now so you shouldn't have to worry about it.

OUTIS - 0/10 TETANUS, TRENCHFOOT, AND OTHER AILMENTS.

Not to be outdone by Heathcliff and Gregor, Outis has combined the worst of tetanus risks and dead bodies wrapped in barbed wire. Then turned it up orders of magnitude larger. It'll probably take her at least 10 years, experiencing many perils and losing all of her crewmates in the process, to return home. Sucks that they couldn't at least give her a chair in the meantime.

ISHMAEL - WATER/10

WATER.

[chiscaralight]

hello ^=^

I really like your writing very much!

Can you write about Model!reader x mafia! scaramouche?

The idea is kind of strange but I can't stop imagining Darling as a famous model all over Teyvat who was in a toxic relationship with a famous actor but the media covered it up until Darling met Scaramouch by chance When she was in a bar and she did not know that it was his property because the Fatui is a dangerous gang known for its dirty methods

Or maybe she witnessed a murder and he had to avoid the possibility of her exposing him so he kidnapped her.

I don't know if you're comfortable with this or not but can you add a part where Scaramouche order Darling to lick the gun?

hi thanku sm! this is definetly out of my usual writing comfort bubble but I absolutely love the idea. i like both of your concepts so I tried to combine them. i also didn't directly make darling lick the gun bc of him, but it was definitely in their mouth lmfao i hope at the very least it works for you! once I saw the ask I literally went to take a walk to think about to do with it lol. but it was so so much fun! thank u for this ask<3

mafia!scaramouche x model!reader nsfw. its kinda long imo. gun play. mentioned assault, cheating?kind of. oral m receiving. fingering. mentions of blood tasting?, uhhh probably missed some tags but enjoy!

there's nowhere you can go where you're not getting recognized. granted, you're almost world famous. a gorgeous model that everyone is pining to be. perfect face, perfect body, in the sweetest relationship with one of the biggest actors. everything was supposed to be amazing! but that stupid man you call your boyfriend is making your life a living hell.

you're sliding the sleeve of your dress a little lower to hide the bruise he gave you earlier as you lean against the bar. the place has the perfect atmosphere for a lovely date night. too bad when that brute gets here it'll be anything but fun. speaking of which, where is he? you'd been sitting alone at the bar for almost half an hour and while he was an asshole, he knew how to keep to time.

so you decide to go outside and wait. it'll be nice to get some breeze after being cooped up in the atmosphere of the building alone will be nice before the inevitable change of tide. your heels are clicking down the sidewalk, masked by the sound of cars passing by and signs buzzing. then you hear it. it sounds like, shouting, arguing? it's coming from the alley up ahead.

you're trying to keep your noise to a minimum as you peer your head into the alleyway. there you see... your boyfriend????

he's on his knees, being held down by two men. there's a woman, who's frantically explaining how he tried to touch her, and that's when you see the crest on her jacket. your eyes widen. the fatui. they're insanely bad news. you've heard all about them through the grapevine, about how tight-knit they are and super secure. so why was the man who was holding the gun towards your boyfriend's head not wearing the symbol anywhere at all?

before you can even process the thought, the loud bang from the gun is ringing in your ears. you can't control the gasp you let out, and all four people that are still alive are snapping towards you.

your lip is sucked in between your teeth as you're holding back tears. the same gun that has been in this man's hand is pressed against your powdered forehead in silence. it's the other lady who speaks first, muttering something about how your 'man' is a criminal. the only words you can get out are:

"i know."

now scaramouche's interest has been piqued. he nudges you with the barrel of the gun and you're looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. you're a pretty thing like this, near the end of your life but still so composed and meek. you drag your sleeve up, and you catch the way his eyebrows furrow. the lady's head turns in confusion as you speak.

"the bastard has been abusing me for months. even if you kill me now, i'll die happy knowing that bastard is rotting in hell."

another wave of silence.

scaramouche drops the gun. he orders the two other underlings to let you go and dispose of the body behind you. he whispers something to the last fatui before she nods and helps you up. a breath you didn't know you were holding escapes your lips and she tells you to follow her.

you're back in the bar, but away from all the eyes of the public. it's somewhere secluded, the area calm and decorated as you wait. you don't know what for, but you're waiting. you expect to see the lady from before, but what you're met with is that man again.

you soon learn his name is Scaramouche, one of the higher-ups in the organization. you're both staring at each other again and in the blink of an eye, his gun is pointed at you once again from the other side of his room. he's not going to shoot, obviously. he's testing you.

and you pass with flying colors! your demeanor doesn't shake once. your eyes are locked onto his and your body is still. he's closing the gap between where you're sitting and him, and the tension in the air is thick. soon enough, the muzzle of the gun is mere millimeters away from your lips. he's looking down at you. and you blink up sweetly at him before you drag your tongue along the side of the barrel. he can't hide the smile that pushes against his lips. he's going to have so much fun with you.

your lips are wrapped tightly around his cock, sucking as good as you can while the firearm is pressed to the side of your head. he's sitting back on the sofa so lazily, watching as you bob your head so perfectly. he's wishing he shot that deadbeat boyfriend of yours weeks ago when he had the chance, maybe he wouldn't have had to wait for such a perfect mouth to suck him off like this. his free hand slides to fist your hair as he draws closer to his climax. the tight grip causes you to moan around him, and he's cumming into your mouth, cum sliding down your throat as he fucks his orgasm into your mouth. but the two of you are far from done.

your dress is bunched up above your hips, giving him the perfect view of the cunt he's bullying. he's thrusting into you hard, finger resting on the trigger as the gun lays softly against your tongue. he's groaning, reminding you it's fully loaded, and the only thing you give him in response is the small view of your tongue circling the barrel. you're the one with the deadly weapon aimed at you, but he's almost sure that you're going to kill him like this. how many times do you get to see such a doll like this, taking you in so well as their life literally lay entirely in your hands? your eyes are struggling to stay open and you're clenching around him extra hard, so he leans down to give you one word. cum.

the way this one hits you is unlike anything you've ever felt before. it's nothing but pure, unadulterated pleasure as you arch up into him.

when you finally come to, he pulls the gun away to aim it at his head. your eyes go wide as you can see his finger weigh down on the trigger. you're attempting to stop him, weak arm reaching at just as soon as he-

nothing.

the gun was empty the entire time. and the laugh he lets out is so annoying, that you're almost pushing him off of you. don't scowl at him like that. it doesn't fit that pretty face of yours. but he tells you not to worry! because the next time he has you like this, hell make sure the gun is fully loaded. and it'll be in your hands, not his.

[shivadh]

Portrait of a Royal

(Warning behind the cut for a full-length image of the new Jonathan Yeo portrait of Charles III, which is real startling if you aren't expecting it.)

"Having met Charles Windsor," Gregory said over breakfast that morning, "I can assure you, he really is exactly the kind of man who wouldn't notice an elaborate and expensive roasting."

They had a rule about reading smartphones at breakfast -- using a tablet was fine if they were talking business, and phones were permitted for scheduling or settling arguments about the lyrics to songs or movie trivia, but overall they tried to keep the devices face-down. On that particular morning absolutely nobody was following the rule, because Jes had walked into the dining room with Michaelis, propped their tablet against a juice carafe in the middle of the table, and said, "I want everyone's opinion on what the actual living fuck is going on here."

Gerald had almost choked on his coffee. Alanna, feeding Sera, had looked up at the tablet, showing a portrait of King Charles III of England done in raw-meat pinks and muddy browns, and missed Sera's face entirely with a spoonful of mashed banana. Joan's eyes went huge as Eddie went into peals of laughter, which the twins promptly imitated, slapping their hands on the trays of their high chairs.

Gregory had carefully set down his silverware and rested his elbows on the table, propping his nose on his clasped hands to try and maintain a poker face.

"It's satire, right?" Ger had asked, looking from Jes to Gregory to Alanna. "I actually liked art history at school, and that's a painting someone did in protest, isn't it?"

"This is the official royally commissioned portrait of Charles the third," Michaelis had said, helping himself to breakfast at the sideboard and settling in between Joan and Jes. "But yes, it is also satire."

"They paid for that?" Eddie asked, gesturing at the painting. "They paid for it. And voluntarily put it on display."

"So the press releases say," Jes said. "I'm taking soundings because we are absolutely dedicating at least one episode of The Echo to it. I might have to start an entirely new podcast about contemporary art just so I can do a deep dive."

"Satire," Gerald repeated, staring at the painting.

"Not explicitly according to the artist, but his description of it is…very dry," Michaelis said. Jes held up their phone and read from it.

"The vivid color of the glazes in the background echo the uniform’s bright red tunic, not only resonating with the royal heritage found in many historical portraits but also injecting a dynamic, contemporary jolt into the genre with its uniformly powerful hue…" they stopped to snicker.

"Oh that's good," Alanna said approvingly. "Calling raw-flesh red the royal heritage is a very nice touch."

"The butterfly approaching King Charles's shoulder in the portrait adds a layer of narrative depth, symbolizing both his known advocacy for environmental causes and his personal transformation."

"It's a lie," Joan said. The adults looked at her.

"What's a lie, hon?" Gregory asked.

"I mean -- " Joan frowned at the painting. "He says he's painting the king's portrait but he's actually painting his feelings about the king, right? And being paid to paint a portrait implies you're supposed to be on the subject's side. But he's definitely not. So it's kind of like a lie. Of a painting. That's cool," she added, thoughtfully. "He roasted the king and the king didn't even notice? That's so cool!"

"Having met Charles Windsor," Gregory said, "I can assure you, he really is exactly the kind of man who wouldn't notice an elaborate and expensive roasting."

"That's sort of what satire is," Gerald added. "It's saying one thing but meaning another in a way that's really obvious to almost everyone."

"Ooh," Joan replied, digesting this. "I've had European history," she continued. "Other royal families aren't like ours."

"Well, some," Michaelis said. "Most, perhaps. Because we elect our royalty, even if we do tend to…elect in families. If you're king one day, it'll be because Gregory trained you and the people think you'd be best at the job. If you were the kind of person he is," he added, nodding to the portrait, "You probably wouldn't get elected."

"I sure wouldn't want a portrait like that done of me if I did," Joan said.

"That reminds me, we really do need to have portraits done," Gregory said to Eddie.

"Well, I say hire this guy," Eddie replied, gesturing at the painting. "At least you know you'll get an honest opinion."

"Doubt he needs the work, given he managed to get paid to insult a king to his face," Jes said. "Maybe that's the angle -- he basically ran a con on the royal family."

"Is it a con if they pay you for something and you give it to them?" Gerald asked.

"To be clear, that was con-parenthesis-admiring-close-parenthesis," Jes replied.

"I should never have told them I have a Tumblr," Ger said to Alanna.

"Don't look at me, I warned you," she replied.

"His other work is very good," Gregory said, scrolling images on his own phone. "I wonder if we can afford him. Love to see what he'd do with you, Eddie."

"I don't mind. Whatever he does, can't be worse than the haters who didn't like my TV show," Eddie replied serenely.

"Am I going to meet the Windsors, ever?" Joan asked Gregory.

"Oh, sooner or later, probably."

"We used to have to go to the birthdays sometimes," Alanna said. "Gregory and Gerald and me. We used to immediately go find Mia and then spend the parties running around with her, causing mischief."

"That's Queen Amelia of Genovia," Michaelis told Joan.

"I should call her, she's going to love this," Gregory said absently.

"I owe her money, I think," Gerald added. "Don't play poker with Genovians," he told Serafina, who burbled.

Eddie, who had apparently already thought of someone to call, had his phone to his ear. "Hey, Gee," he said, to whoever answered. Gregory looked at him curiously. "Yeah, it's Ed. Oh, don't give me shit, I married for love. Have you seen the new Yeo painting? I know! Yeah, I thought you might. Can I get his number? Oh, great. And do you know what his rates are? Well, yeah, and I want to be top of the waiting list. Okay. Huh, that's…affordable."

The entire table was silent. Eddie grinned at them.

"Oh, would you? You are the best, my man. Yeah, absolutely. Hey, next time you're in Europe, book a few days here, huh? Okay. Okay -- yeah, here it comes -- ciao, darling!" he said, and hung up.

"Who do you know who can quote you Jonathan Yeo's fees?" Jes asked.

"Gordon Ramsay," Eddie said casually. "He had a portrait done. I don't know what the royal budget is but his going rate, at least pre-Windsor, is not going to dip my bank account uncontrollably."

"You married for love?" Gregory prompted.

"Oh yeah, he likes to make fun of me for marrying into royalty, he calls me King Golddigger. I think you'll like him, I'll introduce you."

"What if you have Mr. Yeo do a portrait and it ends up like that, though?" Joan asked, gesturing at the painting. Jes picked up the tablet and blanked it, setting it aside.

"Then I will have deserved it, don't you think?" Gregory asked. "We should never try to pretend to a face that's better than the one we actually have. One reason art is so important is that it reminds us of that. That's why we spend so much government money on the arts. Now, finish your eggs, we are definitely going to have to have some conversations about that painting with several of the MPs, it's going to be a rowdy morning."

I think this is more or less extracanonical, but I couldn't get out of my head the idea of the Shivadh royals reacting to Yeo's portrait of Charles III. I don't think he's actually done one of Gordon Ramsay, but I think Ramsay's the kind of guy who would enjoy his work, for sure. Yeo's statement about the portrait is here; it's well worth clicking around his site, his other work is equally fantastic. I can only imagine what he'd do with a portrait of Gregory or Eddie (or Michaelis).

[lunajay33]

Guardian🩶

Summary: You’re Sam and Deans little sister and they always looked out for you, so when you feel like you disappoint your dad, they all remember how fragile you are

Pairing: Big brother Deah Winchester x little sister f!reader, big brother Sam x little sister reader, Father John x daughter reader

•Masterlist•

Growing up as the youngest in the family of hunters was rough but being a girl was even harder, you always tried your best to live up to your fathers expectations and be as strong as your brothers but in some way you felt like you always fell short

Now you were all older, Dean was 26, Sam was 22 and you were 19, Sam finally came back from College after his girlfriend died but now it was just the three of you on the road since John had left to go on his own hunting

Sitting in the back of the impala on the way to another case you were unusually quiet and the guys noticed

“You okay back there?” Dean asked looking at you from the rear view mirror

“We have bigger things to worry about” you mumble not wanting to add to the bigger case here

“Hey you’re out baby sister you matter more than some case, so what’s going on?” Sam asks as he turns in the front seat to look at you

“I…….i miss dad, i feel lost without him” you don’t mean to but the tears drip down your face something you rarely did which shocked them, seeing the panic on their faces you wiped your tears and balled up in the back seat

“He’s been gone months you’ve seemed fine” Dean states you knew they missed him too but your relationship with your father was different you are his little girl even if you didn’t always make him proud

“It’s nothing”

“Come on Angel”

“I just don’t wanna lose anyone else, I love you both more than you could know and I love our time together, but I want dad too”

“We’re here” Dean said pulling up to the motel, you all settled in tired from a long drive

“I’m gonna go see Meg I’ll bring food on the way back” Sam said after he hung up the phone probably talking to this Meg chick

Now it was just Dean and you sat across from each other on opposite beds

“Dean can I ask you something” you ask biting your lip anxiously, after your father left you felt the weight of disappointment crushing you

“What is it kid, you’re so glum today”

“Do you think…..do you think dads proud of me?” His eyes widened but you could see the hurt

“The hell are you talking about, he loves you, you’re probably his favourite”

“I think he left because of me, because of the way things happened on the last case with just me you and dad, I made a mistake and I disappointed him and he left, I didn’t mean to”

“Baby girl you did nothing wrong, he just had a case he needed to work on alone, said it was too dangerous for us to go” he said sitting next to you in the bed wrapping his around your shoulders

“Maybe I should leave, I always held you guys back anyways”

“Hey don’t talk like that you’re family you’re not going anywhere you hear me?” He grunts out

You sigh mentally and physically exhausted

“I think I’m gonna turn in early” you say crawling up the bed and pulling the covers up, you slept through the night not even waking up for dinner when Sam got back

The case went on and you all did some digging, you were looking through a book when you found that symbol again, it was used for ancient spirits that someone could use to their will, Sam had found Meg’s hide out and so you all drove down there

“Y/n you’re sitting this one out” Dean says as you all get out of the car that’s blocked a street away from Meg’s building

“What why I can help”

They loaded up on weapons like usual

“Because kid you’re not in your right mind right now, it ain’t your fault but I just want you to take it easy for this one, just stay in the car we will be back in no time” you wanted to fight Dean on this but the look he gave you shut you up, you didn’t wanna disappoint him too

“Okay just be safe”

You sat in the car waiting and waiting until you saw them in the rearview mirror running across the street running in the direction of our hide out, you got out running behind them but they were farther ahead than you, when you got to the hideout room you heard screaming, you bust into the room seeing shadows slashing at Dean Sam and……and John, you run infront of your father taking the harsh slashes from the spirits, you can feel you stomach being shredded, claws run down your face then you felt 4 long claws go straight through your back, gasping for air that you couldn’t inhale, you drop to the floor the pain unimaginable

Sam sets off a flare destroying the spirits, someone dragged you out into the hallway as you came back into focus seeing the three of them watching over you

“Daddy I’m sorry, I just…..*gasp* wanted to make you proud” then everything fades quickly leaving nothing but black

John, Dean and Sam brought you to the hospital, waiting for your diagnosing the nurses helped patch them up, they waited in your room sitting around your hospital bed praying you’d wake up

“How is she doc?” Dean asks as the doctor walks in to check your progress

“This was one angry bear, slashing is one thing but to stab its claws through her is strange behaviour” they boys looked at each other hoping the doctor believed the lie

“But we’ve done all we could, she lost a lot of blood we just have to wait for her to wake up, sometimes talking to patients who are unconscious helps bring them back, might wanna try it” he said before he left the room

Sam held you hand as he pushed back stray hairs that stuck to your face

“Please pull through, you’re the glue that holds us together, the person who brightens our hellish lives, we need you” he sighs resting his head against your intertwined hands, John and Dean had a war going on inside their heads, Sam always had a different relationship with you than Dean, Dean was crazy protective and still saw you like you were the baby he first held, Sam saw you like his twin, his confidant and the only one in the family who understood him, and those last words you said played over and over again in Johns head

They stayed there for hours just waiting for any sign that you’d wake up until eventually they all passed out from exhaustion, you woke up late in the night, the only thing that lit the room was a lamp on a near by table

You try to sit up but let out a little scream when you feel the wounds that littered your body, waking the others up, they stood by your bed , John at your right Sam next to him and Dean on your left

“Sweetheart you’re up, you’re one tough cookie” John says resting his hand against your cheek

“Are you guys okay?”

“We’re not the ones who are in the hospital bed Angel” Dean smiles squeezing your hand

“I just wanted to help, wanted to protect you daddy” when you called him that it struck right through his heart, remembering how you’re really just his little girl the one who’d stay up late into the night at the end of the motel beds waiting for him to come back, squealing when he’d walk through the door jumping into his arms

“I’m sorry baby girl, Dean told me what’s been going on and you have to know, even though I can be a hard ass sometimes I love you more than anything, I remember when your mother first had you and I held you in my arms I knew I’d do anything to make you happy and safe and I know your brothers felt the same, I’m sorry I left and made you feel like I was disappointed in you, you’re the strongest young lady I know, especially to have to deal with these two all day everyday, I love you sweetheart, my hope” by the time he was done you were a blubbering mess finally letting out all this pent up emotions

“I love you too, please don’t leave me, I need you dad”

“I’ll stay angel, I’ll stay”

[it-is-only-a-novel]

Aspec symbols

So I've been trying to gather a list of aspec symbols! Old and new, widely accepted, but also more obscure. Here's my list so far, including links and explanations (in italics) where possible. I've tried also to add in the specific labels that the symbols "belong to" where relevant/possible.

Arospec:

the color green (and anything green)

white aro ring which is worn on the middle finger of the left hand link

aro flag

archery (bow & arrow)

arrows of any type

frogs they are green (this is a more general queer symbol as well) link & link

yellow roses (& yellow flowers in general, seems to be more for alloplatonic aros, since yellow represents platonic love) link

sunflowers (aroallos) aroallo flag colors link

aardvarks link

anglerfish link

manticores link

rats link

nandays and caiques link

griffins link

phoenixs link

anatomical hearts distancing ourselves from the regular outlook on love, and/or love in general may be more for loveless and/or heartless aros

<2 link

succulents green

cacti green & many do not want romantic partners and can be seen as prickly, or want to be prickly

plants in general green!!

"no romo"

hummingbirds (aroallos) link

pineapples (aroallos) link

pizza & ice cream link

kiwis link

the emojis:🫀, 🏹, ↖️, ↗️, 🌻, 💚,🍍, 🍏, 💘 explanations: link

paper crowns references jughead jones from the archie comics link

Acespec:

dragons link

cake cake is better than sex link

garlic bread

the color purple

black ace ring which is worn on the middle finger of the right hand link

ace flag

space

pirates "Ace pirates aren’t interested in your booty" link

wolves

ghosts (demisexuals) link

axolotls

denim vests

cryptids

AVEN triangle

ace cards suits: spades-aroaces, Hearts-Alloromantics, Diamonds-deamisexuals, Clubs-grey-asexuls link

the emojis: 💜, ♠️

some of these are based off this post, and this master post

Aplspec:

the colors blue & yellow in the apl flag

apples (green apples can be geared toward apls that are also aros)

blue heart 💙

bees

iridescence

apl flag

blue roses link

Blue apl ring on the thumb link

based off of this post, explanations are there.

Aspec:

aliens & robots reclaiming stereotypes about dehumanization link

Artemis goddess in Greek mythology focused on her passion for hunting. Represents finding fulfilment in other aspects of life not only sex, romance, friendship, love, and so on. Also used a bow & arrow link and also my own interpretation from reading about her

Many thanks to @merely-a-caricature, @the-big-gayheart, @heartless-aro, @arosunflower, @saffigon, @crab-in-progress, @aroace-thoughts, @apl-aro-narc, @entropy-sea-system, @dateademisexualpersonwho, @legally-x, @askanaroace, @aroace-people-are-lgtbq, @the-amber-droid-dreams, @foolishfynnesse and @itsnotasecret20 I used their posts/reblogs/comments to compile many of these symbols (and I've linked the posts). If I've missed someone, I apologize, it isn't intentional!

Last edit: 23/2/2024

I also want to add, that this post doesn't include all aspec identities, such as agender, afamilial, asensual, and more. They are important parts of the community, but I'm only informed on some, so couldn't include them.

[a-twistedheartslonging]

sometimes people will pay mc to clean/cook for them. all are using it as an excuse to get a scent on you

epel appreciates home cooked meals, don't bother paying for ingredients, just use ones from his farm. he'll keep you company prefect

jade and floyd (who has taken to calling you his Cleaner Shrimpy) jade thinks it's cute to see you cook, he would love to see you swap recipes, learn your taste, do add extra mushrooms to his food please. floyd enjoys following you around while you clean and trying to mess things up so you can't leave. he always make jokes about lockin' you in. what do you meeeeaaannnn you have other clients? maybe he should bite you so they learn to stay away :) maybe he should lock you up right here :)

azul? come work for the mostro lounge! clean up the mess after work, only work for him, he'll pay you double just don't go spend time with others. why don't you start with his office and finish up after people leave. is what he would say if he lost all words the moment he gets to close to you.

jack is just helping a friend >:( don't get the wrong idea just hang out in the room when you're done, he does enjoy your cooking, he knows you'll make a great little mate and a great parent too, he does always compliment the chef.

riddle and vil will critique you but ultimately try to get you to stay

malleus follows you around while you clean all of diasomnia. he pays extra just to not clean savanna claw

sebek yells how you should be grateful to work for malleus, silver ears every meal with a smile and always compliments you and how he can tell you worked hard on it, lilia tries to have a cook off with you. you didn't have the heart to roast his cooking.

leona is used to the women hunting, cooking is almost like that, he'll pay you double is you drop the dragon, he'll say come over to clean but you're just a body pillow lol

ruggie uses those big old puppy dog eyes to get to give him a home cooked meal for free ninety nine.

by the end of it rook just pays to watch you go about your business in his space. it's creepy. but he always does write a 20 page thank you letter complimenting your skills, unless he decides to keep you in his nest ofc

trey wants to swap recipes remarking something about "well fed children", deuce is enamored with your cooking and raves about you to his mom, ace pretends not to care but will just throw his laundry at you for you to do, he tried to pay you in a hoodie of his but you refused to accept. carter says he'll make a post promoting your innovative idea but is trying to keep it to himself, he doesn't want some other stinky guy on you >:(

idia is to shy to ask but ortho has needed this for a while

jamil is thrilled when you too can cook together and try each others food, and you give him a break from cleaning after parties? kalon thinks it's a sign you love him that you offered (and his parents are thrilled to have a human work for him) and jamil gets to hang out with the cute little human and take a break? god send

eventually whoever gets the most from you is OBVIOUSLY a status symbol and will be shown off.

anyway sorry if you didn't like this

Oh, I love this, I talked before about Yuu getting a little cleaning and cooking side business going since a lot of guys suck at taking care of themselves, especially the well-off ones that prob had a maid take care of everything.

Jamil and Ruggie both need breaks/some help. Leona and Kalim are working these poor boys to the bone. Ruggie is def hounding you for leftovers.

I can imagine Idia is kind of embarrassed and might clean up or hide a few things before you come over, doesn't want you thinking he's gross. I'm picturing him in his web looking flustered as he pretends to act all focused on the game his playing on his tablet but he's actually just watching you clean and fueling his house waifu/husbando fantasies.

I would def run a hoodie tax for doing laundry.

Rook is another that would hide the things he doesn't want you to see before you come over to clean, not that there's much for you to do. He's very neat and organized but always looks for an excuse to get you into his nest. Probably offers you extra to scent a few things for him.

Cleaning for Leona...you know those cats that lie on the bed when you're trying to change the sheets and nap on the fresh from the drier clothes? He diffidently does that. He totally keeps trying to get you to only work for him and lays on you so you can't leave, threatening to charge him overtime doesn't deter him in the slightest. He also sticks close when you're cooking, the man loves food and wants to be fed by hand by you.

Oh man, Mal, Silver, and Sebek are so grateful when you take care of the cooking. Seb refuses to admit it though. You really need to keep an eye on everything, or else Lilia will sneak something into what you're making.

With the trouble that Ace and Deuce cause you're probably called to their dorm often to clean up some mess they made.

You would definitely get a lot of extra work from the octo trio, if it's not their rooms you're taking care of then it's help with the lounge. The eels are big-time fans of your cooking, but neither will leave you alone when you are trying to clean, and it makes the jobs take a lot longer. Not too bad if you're charging by the hour at least.

[thiscoldheart]

some details that i loved in la chimera (spoiler heavy) :

i posted this on twitter as well but i wanted to include it here too. i love this little moment here where italia rests her head on arthur's shoulder and for a brief moment, he's anchored to the present by that touch, but him being the orpheus that he is, just HAD to turn back and find himself gravitating towards the tombs, the past and his eurydice.

the fact that italia's name is literally italy in italian and by the end of the movie she creates a community of her own where she's looking out for those that are outcasted by society, in an abandoned train station named riparbella which literally means "to start again".

arthur's eye always being blocked by shadow throughout the movie until he sees the light at the very end

according to wiki, the goddess the statue is based on is cybele, goddess of nature, animals, wild places and represents the "creative and destructive force of nature." her phrygian name matar (mother) alludes to the fact that she was a "mediator between the boundaries of the known and unknown, the civilized and the wild, the worlds of the living and the dead." i love that this goddess' presence in the movie symbolizes arthur traversing between the living and the dead worlds and getting closer to beniamina. i love that by the end of the movie, the statue itself becomes unknown to human eyes and returns to the wild, far away from civilization, which is arguably the same fate that arthur meets as he dies.

the red string that's following arthur around is very reminiscent of the red string ariadne gives theseus to find his way through the maze. it's beautiful how this red string seems to appear only in his dreams at first but slowly starts crossing the boundaries of dreams and reality as the movie goes on until he is able to tug at it by the end and cross over into beniamina's world.

arthur, at the beginning of the movie, says "so it's you. my last woman's face." how cool is it that beniamina's face resembles cybele's?

arthur goes back to flora's house after being injured and her daughter finds him in the bathroom. spooked, she says "i thought it was a ghost" which arthur might as well be considering how he's essentially been a walking corpse this entire movie.

also a special shout out from the bottom of my heart to the sped up sequences, didn't even realize how badly i needed them until i saw them. the chaos in these sequences is everything to me. this is REAL cinema!

in general, one of the themes that i've come to love about this movie is how objects can have different meanings to everyone. an object like the bell arthur found was just "a thing that rings" whereas italia interprets it as a gift until she comes to realize it's been excavated from a grave. the statue was part of a shrine back when it was made, but to the tombaroli and the sellers, this is only a means to make more money. the train station started off as a place that symbolizes movement of people from the city to the countryside but has now become a home for the outcasts of society. the apotropaic phallus would've have warded off evil and bad luck back in the day, but is now used as a means of escape from the law. a simple red string is the literal lifeline for arthur as he tries to find his way back to his lover.

also want to give another shout out to the inclusion of the italian troubadours (our greek chorus) who beautifully spell out the tragedy of our protagonist and his gang.

speaking of music, i really liked this particular song italia was singing as she was practicing. the lyrics go "i'd like to explain to you, o god/ where my suffering lies/ but fate condemns me to weep/ to weep" and that's exactly when arthur finds her crying son. at least italia finds a way for her suffering to end by the end of the movie. maybe we can say the same about arthur too?

i'll probably add more as i keep rewatching the movie lol and make a thread of this on twitter too (x) thanks for sticking around and let me know what other cool details y'all noticed!