#honestly surprised I haven’t died like 100 times | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jayteacups · 2 years

Note

I always think about how Levi would react to affection the first time. Imagine: he isn’t really used to it since his Mom died early and Kenny didn’t really give him any loving affection.

He must be so confused the first time some hugs him, kisses his cheek or forehead or simple leans into him 🥺🥺

Gentle Touches

In which Levi experiences affection for the first time.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x GN!Reader

Genre and tags: SFW, fluff, newly established relationship, experiencing non-sexual physical intimacy for the first time (sobs), only soft sweet tenderness here folks, ACWNR spoilers, okay fine it’s not just fluff there’s emotional hurt/comfort towards the end because i have NO self control

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: Hellooo!! Combining these two asks since they're very similar! This was just going to be bulletpoints but oh my god. I seriously lack self control. Essentially my thoughts on this are that he’d be kinda surprised at first, like it would take him pretty off guard. And he might tense up or jolt slightly, because most physical contact he’s had is either fleeting or is somewhat violent, but after a moment, he’ll realise his instincts are wrong, and slowly lean into the touch. It started out fluffy but then veered into the emotional H/C side of things because I wanted to see what would happen and my fingers just... whizzed away at the keyboard lol. Still not 100% happy with it but honestly it is what it is 😂 Enjoy the fic!!

i. Holding hands

You and Levi haven’t been dating for particularly long, only a couple of weeks or so. To say that the two of you are taking it slow is an understatement; though Levi hadn’t said it outright, you can tell that this was his first romantic endeavour in a while, if the awkward roundabout confession on his end had been anything to go by. As such, you’re more than happy to go slowly for his sake. Yet you hadn’t quite anticipated just how slowly things would go.

The last several days have been a little… odd. Though you find yourself relieved to know that the man you’ve been harbouring feelings for months reciprocates them in every way possible, a new concern has settled into the back of your mind. You know he’s not a particularly outwardly affectionate person in general, but not once has he made a move to even hold your hand behind closed doors. The two of you have spent every night since the confession up late in his office, talking about anything and everything over a steaming pot of tea, curled up on the sofa, bodies millimetres apart yet never touching.

Tonight, however, everything changes.

You’re sitting to his left, having drained your cup of tea. Levi’s left hand lies at his side, as his right hand precariously holds his own cup. The two of you have fallen into a comfortable lull in the conversation where there is nothing else to talk about, but the silence allows you to bask in each other’s presence. Your mind whirs - his hand is so close. Would it be too forward of you to reach out and take it? Your own heart beats furiously all of a sudden; perhaps you shouldn’t. Perhaps physical affection just isn’t how he shows love, and you’re more than okay with it, but you can’t quash your curiosity…

Before you can think it over any further, your pinky finger grazes his own, and curls around it.

A soft, simple touch. A featherlight sensation so brief that nobody else would pay it any mind, but your Captain instead freezes on the spot. You hear his breath hitch, shoulders hiking up to his ears, head snapping towards you. His eyes are uncharacteristically wide, and he swallows, eyes flicking downwards to your joined pinkies.

“Did I startle you?” You venture softly. The last thing you want to do is to make him uncomfortable, and you fear you may have done just that. Beginning to loosen your pinky finger from his, you continue, “it’s okay, I know physical touch isn’t everyone’s thing…”

Levi, however, gives a minute shake of his head. His finger curls around yours tightly. “No.” He blurts out. “I-it’s fine.” His face glows a warm pink. He closes his eyes for a moment, delicate, long lashes brushing against soft cheeks. He takes in a slow breath, as if gearing himself up for a daunting mission. You would not be surprised if Levi truly did find intimacy more intimidating than a pack of abnormal titans. “It’s fine,” he repeats, more softer than the last.

The corners of your lips twitch upwards. “I’m glad,” you murmur, but Levi isn’t yet done talking.

“It’s just… I don’t know how to do this.” The words stumble out of his mouth, the task of admitting how new this territory is to him being all too difficult. Levi’s eyes flick back up to look at you for a moment. They’re red-rimmed, the flesh under them bruised and dark. Has he been losing sleep over this? Agonising over how to move forward, never thinking he’d ever get this far? Swallowing the lump in your throat, you tilt your head. Your free hand yearns to cup his cheek, but you decide against it. Baby steps.

“That’s okay. We can figure it out together,” you whisper hoarsely, unhooking your pinky from his, letting your fingertips gently trail across the back of his hand. His brow rises a little in confusion, looking a little lost at your ministrations.

His breath is shaky once again, and his hand trembles under your gentle touch. Slowly, you tease open a gap between his palm and the surface of the sofa seat, slipping your hand underneath his. The calluses of his palms scrape against yours comfortingly; yes, his hands may be rough, marred by a life of fighting, but you can’t think of another pair of hands you feel safer in. Carefully, your fingers interlock with his.

“I figured you’d want to go slowly,” you say, gazing into his eyes, “but… would you like more of this?”

Hesitantly, he nods. His hand tightens around yours. His gaze and voice is finally steady as he says, “I would.”

You smile, squeezing his hand. Levi’s eyes soften, and you swear you could see the ghost of a smile on his face, too.

ii. Pecks on the cheek and leaning in

You’d hardly gotten to see Levi all day. Your schedules often conflicted during the weekdays; the Special Ops Squad followed a longer, much more intense training regimen compared to the rest of the Corps, and his position as Captain demanded further time dedicated to paperwork. Meanwhile, holding the position of Squad Leader runs you ragged, too, especially working with the horses and the carts, since your squad rides in the centre column of the formation, towards the front vanguard. As such, when the two of you try to meet up to spend a little more time together, you’re often exhausted.

Stifling a yawn, you gently knock on Levi’s door.

“Come in,” you hear him say gruffly, voice dripping with exhaustion. “The chamomile is almost ready.”

“Looks like I came just in time,” you coo, closing the door behind you and admiring the sight of Levi’s back as he waits for the tea. “Smells good, too.”

“Of course it does. I made it,” he says to disguise how flustered he gets under any sort of compliment from you, but there’s no hiding the tips of his ears that flush a bright pink. You grin sleepily, trudging up towards him. Only a couple of candles are still lit in his office, and the warm, weary orange glow makes him look soft, gentle. A stark contrast to his persona on the battlefield. You think nothing of it as you sleepily sigh, hook an arm around his trim waist and lean against his side, resting your head atop his shoulder. But almost immediately, you feel his muscles tense underneath your touch, and you’re wide awake once more. Crap - it hadn’t been that long since he’d finally gotten used to just merely holding hands, what on earth were you thinking?

But no sooner did you begin to pull away did Levi’s hand pin your hand to where it had rested on his waist.

He clears his throat. “Sorry,” he gets out awkwardly, fumbling to explain himself. “I didn’t… you can lean on me,” he settles on saying, voice getting quieter and quieter, “you can do it whenever you like. Tired or not. It makes me feel…”

It makes me feel wanted.

It doesn’t look like he’s going to finish the sentence, but you hear him loud and clear. “Then I’ll lean on you, so that you’ll never have to doubt that I trust you. And you can lean on me too.” Not just literally, like right now. You hope that one day he can lean on you in all senses of the phrase, but you’ll know it’ll take time.

Right now, though, you’re content. You lower your head to rest against his shoulder again, but tense up upon hearing him take in a deep breath. “You okay?”

He finds your hand–he’d gotten a little more confident with hand-holding over the past few weeks–and squeezes. “I’m fine. Quit worrying.”

The night passes by in a blur as you enjoy your tea, slowly unwinding, slowly opening up to one another. You lean against Levi once more as he walks you back to your room, and you make a comment about chivalry living on with him. Perhaps you had hallucinated it, but you could have sworn Levi had chuckled at that comment.

“Alright, you need to go to sleep. Now,” he insists, as the two of you approach your own private quarters.

Yawning, you nod. “Promise me you’ll get some sleep, too.” Perhaps it is because you are feeling sleepy that you do not hesitate this time to reach out and cup his cheek, thumb lightly rubbing the bruising underneath his eye. “Please, get some rest.”

His skin is smooth and very warm underneath your hand. Levi looks like a deer in headlights, and in your sleepy haze, you think to yourself, how adorable.

You reach forward, and plant a light peck on his cheek. “Thank you for letting me lean on you, Lev. Sweet dreams.” Smiling, you enter your room, and you’re out like a light the moment your head hits the pillow.

If you’d been a little more awake, perhaps you might have noticed the small gasp that had escaped your partner at the cheek kiss, or the way his fingers shyly brushed the spot where your lips had met his skin.

Several evenings later, you offer to rub his stiff shoulders after noticing him wincing at his desk. Levi thanks you with a shy peck on the cheek, and he barely stifles his smile when you beam with joy.

iii. Hugs & cuddles

“Have you seen Levi today?” You ask, leaning against the doorway to Hange’s office. It’s about as far as you’re willing to venture into the absolute pigsty that is their workspace - Levi’s cleanfreak tendencies must have rubbed off on you.

Hange shakes their head, lifting their goggles up onto the top of their head. “He’s not in his office?”

“I’ve looked in his quarters, Erwin’s office, the kitchen, the mess hall, the ODM storage shed, the post room, the library, the stables, pretty much everywhere…” you shake your head with a sigh. “Hell, I’ve wandered down every corridor there is in this place and he’s not cleaning, either.” You know for a fact Levi’s still in the barracks - outside, a storm rages. The worst you’ve seen in months. There’s no way he would’ve gone out in this weather. “I’m sure it’s nothing, but… I’m worried.”

Lightning strikes outside, washing Hange’s office with a furious white light for a split second. Their brows furrow as realisation strikes them. “It’s the storm,” they mutter to themself, eyes widening in realisation. You tilt your head. What is it that they know?

Hange straightens up, smoothing back stray hairs. “Crap. I didn’t even notice how bad the weather was today… I think he’s in the storage basement. The one where he keeps all his cleaning supplies in.”

Why on earth would he be in there? But you don’t question it. Hange has known Levi for longer than you have; you trust them wholeheartedly. “Thank you so much, I’ll go find him.”

Their eyes flicker between you and their half-finished designs on their desk. Clearly, they are torn between coming with you to find Levi, and working on the project designs that they have to submit for approval in a matter of days. The blueprints resemble a large titan trap, with dozens of ropes and hooks.

“Work on the project, Hange. It looks important. I’ll check on Levi, okay?”

Exhaling, they nod and grasp your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze in thanks. Not that you needed permission, but when you and Levi first started dating, Hange had been amongst the first to discover your relationship (beaten only by Erwin, for nothing ever went unnoticed by him), and had taken it upon themself to… interrogate you, so to speak. They’d only wanted the best for their friend, and their approval meant the world to you.

You descend the steps and reach the basement cupboard in almost no time at all. The door handle is cold against your fingertips, and you slowly release it, choosing not to turn it at all.

“Levi?” You knock gently on the wooden door. “Are you in there? It’s me.”

Pressing your ears to the door, you hear a slight rustling, which immediately fades.

Your voice softens. “Could you let me in, darling?”

More shuffling. You lean back as Levi unlocks the door from the inside, and opens the door ever so slightly. “What,” he says. His voice sounds hoarse, as if it is the first time he’d spoken all day.

“I was looking for you,” you say, as Levi’s fingers curl around the edge of the door and open it further, just enough for you to slip in. He closes and locks it almost immediately after you enter, plunging the basement into complete darkness. What is he doing in here without a candle? Questions lie heavy on the tip of your tongue, but you swallow them. You can hear Levi shuffling back to where he’d been before he’d answered the door. Following the rustling sounds, you carefully feel your way past the boxes of supplies and lower yourself to sit next to him.

Here, you can’t hear much other than the sounds of Levi’s breathing. The sounds of soldiers going about their daily lives are all but silenced, as are the noises of the storm.

It’s starting to make a little more sense why Levi took shelter down here.

There’s something comforting about the quiet. Hesitant to shatter the silence that Levi is trying to find comfort in, you move slowly, ever-so slowly. Your hand makes its way around his shoulders, and tenderly tugs him in your direction so that your sides are pressed up against each other. His head finds its way onto your shoulder, his shaky breath tickling the base of your neck. Levi pauses, then melts into you, leaning into you with a small sigh. Your free hand grasps his trembling hand, and you raise his knuckles to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss onto them.

Dampness trickles into the crook of your neck.

Oh. “C’mere,” you mumble, reaching to envelop the man with your arms. Levi, in turn, slips an arm around your middle and buries his face into the crook of your neck. Curling into your warmth, your partner sobs, and every fibre of your being burns with heartache at his distress. You hold him tight as he trembles against you, swallowing the lump in your throat that threatens to choke you. When was the last time somebody had held him like this? Held him the way he deserved to be held, like he was loved? You don’t know exactly what has him so upset - it seems far deeper than just a simple dislike of thunderstorms - but what you do know is that it has been too long since the last time he had ever received comfort.

This world had been far too cruel to him.

Your hands rub circles into his heaving back, before they wander upwards, fingers scratching at his undercut, slowly carding through his hair. A whimper escapes him at that, but it seems to calm him, so you continue your gentle ministrations.

When his sobs begin to subside, you feel him begin to pull away. Offering no resistance, you let Levi sit up properly. Still, you can’t see him, but the rustling tells you he is fumbling to put his meticulous appearance back together: re-tying his crumpled cravat, running his hands through his messy hair, tucking his shirt in, furiously wiping away any and all evidence of his tears from ruddied cheeks.

You can feel his apology already lingering at the top of his tongue and quickly say, “you don’t have anything to be sorry about.” Exactly what it is you’re referring to you aren’t quite sure - his break in composure, or whatever it is about thunderstorms that had made him so upset he’d needed to flee to a cleaning cupboard six feet below the ground.

The rustling pauses. “You don’t know that,” Levi responds tersely. “Don’t waste your time.”

“Any time spent with you is not time wasted,” you counter. “When I said you can lean on me, all those weeks ago… I meant it. And the offer stands, always. You’re allowed to let yourself have this.”

This is apparently the wrong thing to say, as Levi clicks his tongue, and seethes, “am I? Am I allowed that?” He scrambles to his feet and marches towards the door, and you move to do the same.

“Yes, of course you are!” You exclaim as Levi begins to turn the handle.

He’s still fighting to keep his voice even as he says, “this conversation is over.”

“What… no, it’s not.” It’s already more than clear from the last few minutes that this just happens to be a bad day for him, but you still don’t know why. “You don’t even have to tell me what’s wrong, just… don’t try to push me away. I’m here for you.”

The door creaks open, throwing a sliver of golden light into the dark room. It cuts a striking silhouette of his profile, and you can see the half-dried tears glinting off his cheeks. His fist clenches around the door handle, muscles tensed, clearly yearning to flee so that he wouldn’t have to say anything, and you swallow.

But he doesn’t throw the door open and head up the stairs like you expected him to. No, instead, Levi closes his eyes and shuts the door again, plunging the two of you back into darkness.

“There was a thunderstorm that day.”

Your hand reaches out into the pitch black, and caresses his warm cheek.

“I… we were on a mission, me and the two people I considered family, to kill Erwin and steal some documents for a nobleman. All in exchange for surface citizenship. It rained on an expedition, and I thought this was it, the perfect moment to separate from them, make my move and get them the peaceful lives on the surface that they deserved.”

You propel forward before either of you could say another word. You don’t need to hear the rest of the story, not when you know exactly how it ends. Hugging him tight once more, you fail to blink away the tears in your eyes.

Is there any point in saying it, that it isn’t his fault? You know that Levi had joined the Scouts a year before you transferred in from the Garrison, so a fair amount of time must have passed; but survivor’s guilt shows no mercy, only strengthening her vice-like grip as time passes. Your partner likes to live by the motto of ‘no regrets’, but you both know it is much, much easier said than done.

Futile as it may be, though, you say it anyway. Cupping his face and stroking his soft cheeks with your thumbs, you whisper whatever words of comfort springs to mind in the moment.

It isn’t your fault.

I know the world has wounded you, and it has made you feel like you are deserving of nothing, but I don’t have the words to tell you just how wrong that is.

If there is anybody on this wretched earth that deserves to be loved it is you. And maybe you aren’t used to the idea of being held and loved, maybe you didn’t think that any of this was in the cards for you, but please. Let me.

He leans his head into your touch, and kisses the palm of your hand. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “For… for all of this.”

Drawing him into your arms, you peck his cheek. “Why thank me for something you deserve? You are loved, you are not alone, and I never want you to doubt that even for a second.”

Burying his face into the crook of your neck, Levi nods. “Okay.” He chokes on his words, composure threatening to break once more, but this time–this time, you know that he’s not going to pull away from you the moment he stops shedding tears. “Can we just… stay in here a little longer?”

Hearing his voice so quiet, so filled with uncertainty… it breaks your heart over and over.

Kissing the top of his head, you reply, “anything for you.”

Masterlist

#levi x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi fanfic #levi fanfiction #levi x oc #levi ackerman x oc #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #levi ackerman #levi fluff

719 notes · View notes

zeawesomebirdie · 1 year

Text

OKAY SO I figured that since I still have to wait to pick up season 4 of MASH from the library, I’d make up a little thing about my thoughts so far! Paging @unmaskedcardinal @moinsbienquekaworu and @steine-druff !! And this is a little long so my apologies, I just have so many thoughts ahh this show is so good!!!

(also Ziggy pls note if you haven’t gotten through season 3 yet: this will contain spoilers!)

First I’d just like to give an update on my ships. I’m still heavily invested in Hawkeye/Radar, no surprise there, and honestly at this point I think I’m going down with this ship. It’s the intimacy and the clear respect and the whole knowing that the other will happily do whatever is needed and just !!!! Themb!!! They deserve good things!

But in terms of changes to my ships: Margaret deserves better than Frank. Like, so much better. At this point I’m getting pretty invested in Margaret/Trapper, because for all the teasing Trapper sends her way, when it comes down to it he really does respect her (shoutout to that episode where they got stuck in the supplies shed!) And idk, it just really feels like Frank idolizes her as this like, Ideal Woman, which she’s not and she clearly doesn’t want to be, and it’s been really nice to see her get fed up with him more and more often. And I absolutely love how she’s started to really trust Trapper and Hawkeye, I love that for her!! She deserves to have friends who will help her no matter what!!

I’ve also found myself in Hawkeye/Father Mulcahy territory after checking out the various ship tags on Ao3! Hawkeye/Radar is 100% my otp at this point, but I am fascinated by the dynamic between Hawkeye and Father Mulcahy, and tbch I’m really getting invested with each episode where they interact

Unfortunately I still have not met BJ, so I don’t yet have an opinion on hunnihawk. This will likely change once I’ve met him, of course!!

Okay so for things aside from shipping!!

That episode where Hawkeye is awake for like three days straight and just does shift after shift in the OR and ultimately has to be sedated haunts me. Particularly the scene where he sits on Radar’s desk and sings him I’ll Be Home for Christmas, just. The way he’s crying and it’s so. I don’t even know how to put it in words, that scene and that episode haunt my every waking thought and I love him so much and it was not fair at all that that episode made me cry like that

Speaking of episodes that made me cry! I loved and hated every single moment of the episode where Henry dies. I knew he died, I’ve known he dies since like halfway through season 1, and I still wasn’t ready. I really hoped that there would be more with him. I love him so much, I really loved how he was the father figure for everyone and he was so good, he’s such a great character and :(

Klinger is rapidly becoming one of my favourite characters too, and I just. He’s so relatable!! I really liked the episode where he finally landed a psych eval with Sid only to not get the discharge because he isn’t trans or gay and refused to sign that he was. I just!! As a man who’s been waiting to be far enough into his transition to wear dresses again without being misgendered, Klinger is just so so so relatable and I love him so so much!!

(tbch I really just love every character so much, so y’know. Every character gets the I love himb treatment lol)

I said this earlier but it bares repeating: I really love how Margaret has learned to trust Hawkeye and Trapper. Like, the fact that they were who she went to when that general died in her tent, and that she willingly shared her alcohol with them that time Frank outlawed alcohol entirely, and just! Her growth as a character has been so incredible to see, and I am so incredibly excited to see how she grows in future seasons!!

I’m kind of on the fence about Frank now. Idk he’s fascinating in that he really is such a gung-ho stereotypical American man to the point of it all being a farce, but also as the episodes go on he’s just getting more unhinged and not even in a good way. I’m not sure I’m correct on this but I don’t believe he’s in later seasons, so I’m really curious to see what happens to him? At this point I’m still in the love to hate him camp, but he’s also starting to just get annoying. That opinion will likely change again soon though, because every few episodes I’ve been flipping back and forth between liking and not liking him

And my final opinions: I’m so glad I discovered the option to remove the laugh track! It never really bothered me, but there is such a stark difference in how each episode hits when it’s not there at all, and omg wow. I already thought this was a fantastic show, I mean ofc, but without the laugh track it’s so stupendously better it’s just. There are no words. I’m going to have to go back to the first two seasons at the end and watch them again but without the laugh track, and I am so excited for that!

So all in all, I am still having the time of my life! Watching this show has really low key become one of my favourite parts of the day, and I’m just so in love with all the characters I just! They all deserve such good things!!! And here I am, having hardly written in ages, knee deep in fic drafts already!! Something something this sure is one of the most shows ever!!!

#sorry not sorry for tagging yall btw 👉👈#its only been a few days since i finished season 3 but this wait for season 4 is *killing* me #and im def gonna be buying the dvds of this at some point #i just!!!!#this show!!!!!!!#but anyway thanks for being here!!!#love yall!!

6 notes · View notes

elsmaster · 1 year

Text

Every other social media platform has turned to burning garbage and I haven’t made weird life updates on Tumblr since November 2019, so let’s do a brief rundown, because oh man, it’s been a ride! Everything is mainly related to mental health, so if you somehow still follow me but also don’t care, you can just carry on!

I was diagnosed with

LQTS2, which is a heart thing (”abnormal feature of the heart's electrical system that can lead to a potentially life-threatening arrhythmia”) that generally only acts up once, with the consequence being “death”. Except mine’s the more chill version, and the cardiologist’s genuine professional opinion was “if it hasn’t killed you by your thirties, it’s unlikely to do so at all”. So I guess it’s great I haven’t... died? I’m not allowed to do competitive sports though, which is absolutely tragic oh no whatever will I do with my life now??? I shouldn’t eat licorice either, but fuck that. If licorice is what gives me a heart attack, then so be it.

Bipolar 2 and generalised anxiety, which is probably not even a little bit surprising to anyone who has met me, ever. Especially the bipolar bit. Again, I got the slightly more chill version, so I only get a little manic sometimes, and the annoying kind of depressed where you’re not really sad or happy, but rather just...meh. Mixed episodes seem to be my jam, and they’re absolutely 0/10, would not recommend.

Somewhat related to the previous two: I did one more round of burnout, and I’m currently maybe going through a Burnout Lite, which is honestly not even surprising at this point, because my mental health has been confirmed as wonky af, and my coping skills are still pretty much “I DON’T NEED HELP I CAN DO THIS OK”.

I have a therapist now. She keeps telling me I keep intellectualising my feelings, which is a very rude thing to point out, but also 100% true. I’ve told her I like to think of my feelings as something I’ve stuffed into a worn-out cardboard box that I’ve the taped up, tied with a nice bow, and buried under my bed. She does not like this. (We’ve actually made a lot of progress and I can already feel my feelings. Sometimes. It’s awful.)

I have a job that doesn’t destroy me emotionally, even if it’s 1000 % not something I ever thought I’d do for a living. Which I guess is kinda nice, because I have no emotional attachments to it, and I can just leave my work behind after my work day. Buuuut I also still kinda live to overachieve (see: Burnout Lite).

I was given manager-type responsibilities in my previous job, with no extra pay, and I was supposed to manage a team while also doing my own work tasks. This was the key reason for the second round of burnout. This was also why I eventually, finally quit.

I started studying for a new bachelor’s degree (see: overachieving) in August, and completed 61 credits by the end of the year. You’re supposed to do 30 per semester. Maybe perhaps perchance a little less if you’re working full time (see: Burnout Lite).

My dog is still the absolute best and the light of my life. She’s almost ten and getting grayer by the day, but she still acts like a puppy most of the time. Look at her.

Anyway, I’m still around. I’m closer to 40 than 30, feel like 80 or 20 depending on the day, and can apparently still pass for 25. I still browse Tumblr daily, and miss the olden days, when there was life and constant garbage fires, and stupid fandom wars that I could watch fly by in utter confusion.

#this is my life

1 note · View note

antag0nisms · 2 years

Text

after therapy thoughts, 5/9/22

(i’m writing this the day after (on 5/10), but that doesn’t matter lol)

so... honestly, i don’t know. that was definitely the most unique first session i’ve had.

it started out normally -- she asked me basic questions about my and my family’s health history, questions about why i made an appointment, etc. it felt a little awkward due to lag, but that wasn’t that big of a deal.

i wasn’t 100% in love with her attitude, though. she just seemed kind of brisk and clinical. and she really didn’t look at the camera much. which is okay... but it makes it even harder to focus when it’s virtual. like i couldn’t get a read on her, which is already hard enough to do when you’re not in person. (this will also be relevant for reasons later.)

but the main thing was, she asked me, “so the eating thing was the first thing, then?” she asked me variations of this question a couple of times, and each time, i was like yeah, that was the first “issue” that showed itself. (which it was. like i can look back now and see that there were gender-related issues earlier than that, but the first issue that came up that i consciously recognized as a serious problem was the eat//ing dis//order.)

i wasn’t really sure why she seemed insistent on trying to get that down until she started to tell me about this ed specific clinic in the area. and she was explaining how her background is mainly in substance abuse & addiction, (which -- not sure why i got paired up with her in the first place then, lol. at no point during any intake conversations did i indicate i wanted help with substance abuse issues.) and so she wasn’t sure how much she could help me, basically.

and so on the one hand, i get it. if she’s not equipped to really treat ed’s, then that’s fine, i should see someone who is. but on the other hand... it feels weird to me that she singled that out so quickly?? like, she knows basically nothing really about my history, and so for me to basically just tell her “i had issues with disordered eating before i had issues with depression and anxiety,” it seems really odd to me that she would then feel confident in zeroing in on that and saying that that’s probably the real, underlying issue.

and i keep wondering, though, is she right? she might be. like, if really what we mean is that my original issues are with my body... then i think that’s correct.

like it’s true that soooooo much of my mental space is taken up by constantly worrying about my body, like my weight, my size, etc. i spend sooo much time thinking about my body and about food. i feel badly about myself regardless of what i eat, and i feel guilty about any and all physical pleasures. i feel ugly and disgusting because of my body literally all the time. it’s like, whenever i look at myself in the mirror and i don’t look absolutely horrific and disgusting, i’m always kind of surprised.

and when it comes to my behaviors, it’s true that they’ve been out of wack, even if i’m not being crazy about it rn. like no, i haven’t p//urged in a minute, but that’s mostly because i haven’t been full enough to want to in weeks. like, i’m not eating enough generally, i know i’m not, but i’m fine with that. like not fine, not really, but it’s like it’s always a plus to me if i just naturally want to eat less. like, it’s weird, i’ve reached this space lately where i’m able to just not prioritize eating like i used to have to. idk if it’s the new meds or the weed or bc i’m older now, but i can go like all day without eating and think i’m fine and get stuff done and like idk.

like i know i’m kind of in an unhealthy place with this atm, like moreso than it’s been for a while, bc i feel like i’m an unhealthier place with most stuff atm. (hence why i know i need therapy, lol...)

but even if it’s not true, i think partly i was taken aback bc it’s felt like okay, i’m going to this person for help... and she shut me down and refused to help me and even outright rejected me. it feels like she wants to pass me off onto someone else bc she’s like overwhelmed by all the other clients she has or something.

and it’s like... ughhh why can’t this just be easy?? why can’t it just be simple or easy to find a therapist and get help?? like why does this have to be as hard as possible, where i’m just making appointments and phone calls forever and nothing works out??

but honestly i think part of it too, like a really big part, is that the idea of going to an ed specific treatment place really scares me. partly because i’ve never gotten “bad” enough that i had to get treatment before (like i’ve never been hospitalized) and so i always feel that i’m faking this or making it into a bigger problem than it actually is. like oh, i don’t actually have an ea///ting di////sorder, i’m just faking it for attention sort of thing. but it’s funny bc that does directly contradict what i was saying earlier about how food and my body are constant stressors in my life (like to the point that i don’t consciously register them as stressors a lot of the time, or i don’t realize how abnormal my behavior or thought patterns are), so idk lmfao.

but like yeah, i also don’t “look” like i have an ed, like i’m not super skinny or anything. obviously ppl with eds have every body type, but it’s just like something i’m self conscious about, like again that people are going to think i’m faking....

i did like though that it looks like at least some of the locations for this place have treatment teams & therapists & group therapy that’s just for lgbtq people, and honestly i think that would be amazing, like i think being with only other lgbtq people during the recovery experience would make it like 500x easier, lol.

but anyway all that’s assuming a lot... bc the therapist said this place was a town over, but it’s like actually all the way at the other end of the state, like an hour away from me lmfaooo. like i’d be fine doing teletherapy, that’s what i’ve been doing since march 2020 and it’s fine, but that’s assuming that’s even an offering. if i had to, though, i mean yeah, i’d drive that distance every week or even multiple times a week, if i had to. like ,.... what else am i doing, anyway. and again, the chance to be among community... idk what distance it is, lmao.

but again, that’s assuming this location even offers those programs or has appointments available and/or takes my insurance.. so ughhh idk. and also i’ll have to explain all this to my mom and that’s complicated bc i don’t think she even knows how much the ed stuff is an issue. but whatever ig... i’ll just try and see how it goes.

#journal

0 notes

smallestapplin · 2 years

Note

I haven’t seen this yet and I wanna see your take on it,

An s/o that can and will pick up the Submas twin when they hug them? Just holding them, in the air. Can they throw them over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes too? Yes.

Y/n “look at my train nerd!” *hold up ingo/emmet*

*also, thank you for working so hard on these. Remember to take a break and drink/eat. I’m so proud of you, keep up the amazing work :]*

Tho I maybe weak irl I would 100% without hesitation do this, also thank you for the reminder! I’m honestly quite forgetful and deal with…an unsavory distaste for food, but it’s needed! You’re very sweet thank you! 💖💖

🔳Emmet🔳

- oh he loves this! To him it’s a very open display of affection and he adores it, he likes showing how much he loves you so to get the same back? He’s falling deeper in love!

- He has wanted to see how far this can go so he takes running starts and jumps just so you’ll catch him.

- Squeals happily when you catch him and twirl and smothers your face in kisses.

- So imagine his surprise when you two do just that, you’re holding him up, his legs chest height and you yell out into a busy subway “look at my little train nerd! I love you so much!”

- His face is bright red, giggling like a little school girl. Trying to cover his face with his hands.

- “Darling please!”

- “I just love you and I want this whole damn subway to know it.”

- He tells Ingo and Elesa everything jumping up and down, flapping his hands and just all around giddy.

- It goes down into a more…mature route if you pick him up and throw him over your shoulder.

- He likes this a lot.

- But it’s funny when you throw him on your shoulder to reel him back in and stopping him from doing whatever dumb thing he was planning on.

🔲Ingo🔲

- He screams the first few times you so this, he isn’t use to being off the ground like this so the subway boss is a bit nervous about it.

- Comes to love it, especially after a tiring day of work, he has been up on his feet all day, you picking him up is almost euphoric when the pressure is off his feet.

- You picked him up, his legs dangling around your waist and arms around your shoulders.

- Nervous cause you two were in public and he can feel some people staring. Only made worse by your next more.

- “Look at my sweet husband! You’re so perfect!”

- Ingo wants the ground to swallow him whole now please and thank you.

- He is pulling his hat over his face but you can still see his blush, the tips of his ears are pink with how flustered he is.

- “D-dear please! Not like this.”

- “I just want everyone to see my lovely husband and to see my love for him!”

- This is it, this is how he dies.

- While he is impressed you can throw him over your shoulders he’d prefer if you didn’t.

- Or at least save it for a different occasion, and more private.

- He doesn’t like people seeing a man with a public image like his thrown over his partners shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

#pokemon #pokemon imagines #pokémon #pokemon x reader #pokemon ingo #pokemon ingo x reader #pokemon fluff #pokemon emmet #pokemon emmet x reader #fluff fluff fluff

120 notes · View notes

danielxricciardo · 3 years

Text

Winner

Summary: You met Pierre at the Brazilian Grand Prix and for 3 months you couldn't get in touch.

Warnings: fluff, like 2 swear words

Word count: 2.3k

This one was requested by @jugasly and I know it is not exactly what she wanted but I really tried and I hope you liked it!

Avenida Paulista's Boulevard catches the eye especially through the skyscrapers similar to those in the big North American cities. Brazil's most modern city has much to offer tourists around the world. The most beautiful museums in South America can be found here, the shore is furrowed with lots of sunny beaches. And its nightlife has attracted many tourists.

The largest city in South America makes New York look small. The buses make an unbearable noise and black smoke spreads over the upper floors of the skyscrapers which, through the heat that maintains it during the day, turn the city into a real hell.

I felt myself waking up but I was determined to keep my eyes closed for a little longer but in a few seconds I was awakened violently by the sound of car engines. That's what I deserve for booking the hotel next to the Formula 1 circuit.

You reluctantly got out of bed and went to the window. I saw how the Formula 1 cars are brought on the circuit and I look at my watch. Fuck, it was pre-qualification practice, did I really sleep that much? Honestly, I arrived in the room at 5 o'clock and at 6 I fell asleep so I shouldn't have been so surprised that I slept in.

I was in Brazil with my two best friends to watch a Formula 1 race live and we chose Brazil because we needed a good reason to leave Europe and visit South America for a week, right?

I woke up my friends and in less than half an hour we were leaving the hotel, running, with a big cup of coffee in our hand.

We passed quickly through the front gate, all we needed now was to find our seats.

All around us could be heard the cars speeding on the circuit. My skin was goosebumps and I was looking at my friends who had the same smile on their faces that I think I had.

We find our seats and watch the last 15 minutes of training. We held in our hands the tickets that gave us access to the paddock. We were going to go there after the drivers returned to the garages.

My eyes were searching for Aston Martin Hospitality. I knew that if I returned home from this Grand Prix without an autograph from Sebastian Vettel for my father, I could very well stay in Brazil for the rest of my life.

Being so focused on looking for the green building, I didn't realize that someone was coming in front of me only when I hit a hard chest. I heard my girlfriends gasping. Fuck, I just hope I didn't run into Toto Wolff.

I open my eyes slightly and see a driver's suit, white and blue. Alpha Tauri?

I look up at the driver's face. To be damned. Pierre Gasly. With ruffled hair and a red face, Pierre Gasly was in front of me.

"I'm really, really sorry, I didn't look where I was going. Sorry!" I say and take a step back, stepping out of his personal space.

As I walked away from him, I saw that he was not alone but with Pyry.

"It's okay, I wasn't looking where I was going either," he says, running his hand through his hair, trying to fix it.

I smile at them and then I look at my friends giggling at our embarrassing date.

Pyry motions to Pierre to someone behind me and that makes him take his eyes off me.

"Oh, I have to go," he tells me. "Have fun."

I stood still for a few moments, unable to move. I just met my favorite driver and it couldn't be more embarrassed than that.

"The first meeting with your children's future father was very good." my best friend, Lila, tells me.

"Shut up."

The fact that I found Aston Martin Hospitality and managed to get the autograph for my father and I could take a few pictures with Sebastian Vettel erased the embarrassment caused by the disastrous meeting I had with Pierre Gasly.

For a little time.

As soon as we got out of Aston Martin Hospitality Lila pulled us to McLaren Hospitality, hoping to meet Lando Norris and take some pictures with him, about 100, but who's counting, right?

I was with my head on the phone, sending my father some pictures I took with Sebastian Vettel when I came across someone, this time I lost my balance and I was about to fall but two strong arms caught me. Pierre Gasly, again.

"Honestly, we should stop meeting like this, you could get hurt," he says and laughs. "Are you ok?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," I say and bite my lip. "I should really start looking where I'm going."

My friends secretly took pictures of us.

"It's the second time we've met in less than 10 minutes, maybe the universe wants to tell us something, don't you think?" he says and holds out his hand. "Pierre."

I hold out my hand and smile wide. "Y/N."

I turn my gaze to Lila and Erica, presenting them to Pierre as well.

"I hope you feel good in the paddock. So far, the world has been nice to you and your friends?"

"Yes, everything has been good so far. We've only been to Aston Martin and they've all been very nice to us. Except for a few people who don't look where they're going, we haven't had any unexpected events." I say and laugh.

Pierre starts laughing too.

"Yes, I will try to look after you from now on and avoid you. I don't want to be the reason you fall. Although, if something happens, I know the medical team and you don't need medical insurance here."

I asked Pierre if he wanted to take some pictures with me and he accepted immediately. At least that's what I can do after I've run into you twice already.

For the next few hours, Lila and Erica, and I walked from one Hospitality to another, looking for drivers. They were all very nice to us and agreed to pose with us.

When it was time to start qualifying, we went to the room provided by McLaren for guests to watch.

I followed Pierre's position in the standings, Lila followed Lando's position and Erica followed Max's position. All three of us breathed a sigh of relief when the three boys passed into Q3.

Lando will leave from the seventh position tomorrow.

Pierre will start from the fourth position.

Max will start from pole position.

The three of us went to the hotel, ready to rest well for the next day.

If the atmosphere for qualifying had seemed charged to me, then the atmosphere before the race could not be described.

Yesterday everyone was behaving nicely and they were smiling. Now everyone was running past everyone, there were many screams and many curses could be heard. And everyone was frowning, not a smile in sight.

We didn't see any drivers, so we headed to McLaren Hospitality to get comfortable for the race. I unwittingly was disappointed. I wanted to see Pierre before the race to wish him good luck.

Although I hadn't wished him good luck, Pierre was lucky. He finished the race in second place, behind Max Verstappen. I was very happy and I wanted to go and congratulate him as soon as possible.

I watched the award from the window, filming and taking pictures which I was sure I would cherish for a long time to come.

"Congratulations!" I scream when I see him and he looks at me. "It was a very good race, congratulations!"

"Thank you!" he says and smiles at me.

I asked my friends to take some pictures with the trophy and champagne and then Pierre left, being shouted by someone from the team.

"Stay here, I'd like to see you one more time before you have to leave."

I could die then and there when I heard his words. Pierre Gasly wanted to see me again.

It's just that it hasn't happened before. We stayed there for another two hours and Pierre could not be found. It was getting late and everyone was starting to leave, so we left.

Monza is the most important economic, industrial and administrative center of the Brianza sub-region, being the third-largest city in Lombardy, with a population of about 120,000 inhabitants. When people think of Monza, the first thing that comes to mind is the famous Formula 1 Grand Prix that is held here every year.

Although many may think that Milan eclipses this smaller city, Monza should not be dismissed, having an absolutely sublime historical architecture, such as the Cathedral and the Leoni Bridge, but also features the huge Parco di Monza and of course the famous Formula 1 Autodromo.

The historic center of Monza stretches over a large area and in this area, you can find most historical sites and a guided tour of the history of cities.

Three months have passed since the Brazilian Grand Prix.

Three months since I first saw Pierre Gasly.

Although I have pictures of the two of us, I can't help but regret the fact that I didn't see him then; I will probably never see him again.

The exams passed and to relax completely my father and I got tickets to the Italian Grand Prix.

What I didn't know was that my father had taken VIP tickets.

That means we're going to the paddock.

Does that mean I can meet Pierre?

I tried not to have too many hopes, in the end, there are thousands of people there, I can't meet him, can I?

I didn't meet him on Friday. It had been the two practice sessions, everyone was as relaxed as possible, my father took pictures with everyone he saw, but Pierre was nowhere to be seen.

On Saturday we were late and did not catch the practice, but we saw the qualifications. Pierre starts from the tenth position. To be honest, I didn't have high expectations for tomorrow's race for Pierre.

And man I was wrong about that.

The whole race I was speechless. I heard my father from lap 23 and to the end cursing the accident that took Charles Leclerc out of the race.

My eyes were only on car number 10. I had the impression that I was blinking only when the camera moved to another car. I forgot to breathe when I saw the overtaking he was doing.

But he won.

Pierre Gasly won in Monza. His first ever Formula One career win and it was my home race.

Before we went out in the paddock looking for Pierre, after the premiere, I wiped away the tears I didn't know I had.

It wasn't hard for me to find him. Where there were a lot of people screaming and chanting, he must have been there too.

And I was right. He is enjoying his first victory with the whole team. Everyone wanted to hug and congratulate him.

As if he noticed my presence among the hundreds of people who were there, Pierre looked at me. I noticed his face light up and he came towards me.

"Y/N!" he says and hugs me.

I'm sure my father was shocked somewhere in the back. I hadn't told him that I had met Pierre, but after this hug, I will definitely have to explain to him what the situation is.

"Congratulations!" I tell him and I smile broadly. "First victory! Wow!"

He shrugs nonchalantly.

"I was lucky."

I laugh and hit him playfully in the shoulder.

"With Hamilton being penalized? You would have overtaken him without that penalty."

He looked into my eyes.

"I haven't found you after the race in Brazil."

The fact that he remembered had taken me by surprise. I was sure he couldn't remember the fact that he had proposed to me to stay on the circuit so that he could see me one more time.

I was sure that the second he left, he forgot what I looked like and forgot my name.

But no. He still knew me. He still knew my name and knew we had to see each other.

"I haven't seen you there before and I left after about two hours, it was getting late."

"I'm sorry, the teamwork had taken longer than I initially anticipated. When I went to look for you, no one was there. Then I realized I didn't even have your phone number. I tried to look for you on Instagram, but do you know how many girls are there with your name?"

I laughed.

"Well, I could give my phone number to the race winner now, if he wants it, of course. Do you think he would accept it?" you ask laughing.

Pierre blushes and bites his lip.

"I'm sure he would accept."

I take out of my bag the notebook and pen I was carrying with me to receive the drivers' autographs and write my phone number. I hand him the sheet just as Pierre is being taken by some engineers to the garage to celebrate the victory.

I laugh and wave at him.

I was at home with my father, watching a boring movie on Netflix. I've been looking at the phone constantly since last night, waiting for a message from Pierre but I haven't received anything.

"Ugh, this movie is so boring," I say and take my phone off the table. "Let me look for a more interesting one."

That's when I receive a message from a number I didn't save. I received a picture.

It was the picture with the prize Pierre received.

"The winner of the race has received your number and is wondering if you are free to dine with him."

I bit my lip, unable to control the smile on my face.

"If the winner of the race wants to go out on a date with me, who am I to say no?"

"8 o'clock?"

"I'll send you the address right away."

#pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly one shot #pierre gasly oneshot #pierre gasly #f1 fanfiction #f1 oneshot #f1 one shot #f1 2021 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula one oneshot #formula one imagine #forumula one #formula 1 oneshot #formula one #formula 1 #alpha tauri

185 notes · View notes

theartofdreaming1 · 3 years

Photo

Katniss, bravely stepping inbetween Gale and Thread (and his whip) - she’s so courageous and protective, she deserves the world 😭

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and (many) random thoughts on chapters 7-9 are below the cut. (Is it just me, or are my notes getting longer and longer with each and every post? I swear, this book is so meaty, we’ll soon reach the point where I have to type out the entire chapter, with my thoughts in the margins)

heart

“Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else in unthinkable.”

I think these words are a result of Katniss being so afraid of losing Gale that she’s kinda overcompensating; their relationship has been strained these past few months and they’d just had a row, separating from each other on bad terms - and the next time she sees him, he’s been whipped so bad that he’s lost consciousness and could be potentially dying from his wounds. Of course she’s so terrified of losing him, that she’s holding on as tightly as she can to him. It’s important to keep in mind how important their relationship is to her and we see that in her preceding thoughts: What a pair we were - fatherless, frightened, but fiercely commited, too, to keeping our families alive. Desperate, yet no longer alone after that day, because we’d found each other. I think of a hundred moments in the woods, lazy afternoons fishing, the day I taught him to swim, that time I twisted my knee and he carried me home. Mutually counting each other, watching each other’s backs, forcing each other to be brave. - Gale was the first person who was her equal, a kindred spirit, her partner. After Katniss had lost both of her parents when her father died and her mother succumbed to her depression - the people who were supposed to care for her and guide her through growing up - she was stuck with the role of sole provider and protector of her family at age eleven. She must have been so lonely all this time until she met this boy who understood what she was going through and they learned from each other and shouldered their burdens together, to take off some of the overwhelming pressure. Of course that relationship, of course Gale is important to her. But also now their relationship has become more fragile, after the Games they are in danger of growing apart - it’s got to be so terrifying to feel like the one proper, mutual relationship you’ve had seems to be slipping through your fingers. With everything that’s going on, her entire life as it is teetering on the razor’s edge (heck, the president himself has been threatening her and her family!), it’s no wonder that Katniss is craving that familiarity and safety that her relationship with Gale used to provide her with. And seeing Gale in this state just has her holding on to him more tightly than ever.

mind

Hmm, no big moment is coming to my mind right now; I think I’m always most impressed by the tiny moments that show how tenacious, resilient and fiercely kind humans can be - like Darius stepping forward to stop Gale’s cruel punishment, Leevy volunteering to tell Hazelle about Gale and promising to stay with the Hawthorne children, Madge bringing the morphling, Katniss pressing Darius’s hand in the Training Center, Twill taking Bonnie with her to flee to D13 and so on.

soul

I believe that Katniss was honestly surprised to learn that Gale had feelings for her; she had categorically shut down the idea of entering a romantic relationship for herself, so I don’t think she’d seriously consider anyone being romantically interested in her in return (that’s not how that works, of course, but I think that’s how she perceived the whole shtick). Their kiss threw her completely for a loop and if anything, she mostly saw it as something that contributed to the deterioration of their previous, easy and comfortable relationship.

Chapter 7

A mockingjay is a creature the Capitol never intended to exist. [...] They hadn’t anticipated its will to live. - In a way, the Capitol continues to make this mistake with the people living in the districts, too - underestimating their will to live (opposed to just surviving)

I look in his [Gale’s] eyes. His temper can’t quite mask the hurt, the sense of betrayal he feels at my engagement to Peeta. This will be my last chance, this meeting today, to not lose Gale forever. - Okay, we don’t know how much Katniss might be (incorrectly) presuming here, but the idea that Gale might feel betrayal because his best friend is being forced into an engagement pisses me off. It’s fine if he’s feeling jealous because she’s being paired off with Peeta when he wishes he could have a shot with her, but how in the world does this even rate as a betrayal?! A) It’s done against her will and B) Just because they’re friends doesn’t mean Katniss owes him anything when we’re talking about romantic feelings... Ugh 😒 Also, it’s quite noteworthy how insecure Katniss feels about their relationship - she’s constantly worried Gale will drop her and their friendship (waiting for Gale after the camera teams left after winning the Games: I’d begun to think that he’d given up on me in the weeks that had passed.- Ch. 2) and it doesn’t help that she’s been through that extreme, traumatic experience without him and they haven’t had much opportunity to spend a lot of time with each other (with the Victory Tour and Gale having to work so much) and when they do hang out, they don’t seem to really talk much, which doesn’t exactly help...

He [Gale] tosses the gloves on my lap. “Here. I don’t want your fiancé’s old gloves.” “He’s not my fiancé. That’s just part of the act. And these aren’t his gloves. They were Cinna’s,” I say. “Give them back, then, he says. - Gale can be so petty sometimes 🙄

While I talk, [...] [Gale] occupies himself with turning the food in the leather bag into a meal for us. Toasting bread and cheese, coring apples, placing chestnuts in the fire to roast. I watch his hands, his beautiful, capable fingers. Scarred, as mine were before the Captiol erased all marks from my skin, but strong and deft. [...] Hands I trust. - Oh boy, this moment really shows how these two are at cross purposes right now - Gale’s prepping the food as you would for a toasting (romantic connotation), while Katniss is oberserving his hands, thinking how their hands used to match (not anymore!) and basically wishing herself back into the time before the Games, when things were ‘simpler’/more clearly defined (and also platonic!); there is nothing romantic from her P.O.V. - it’s all about the friendship and trust

[Gale] steps in and I feel myself lifted off the ground. The room spins, and I have to lock my arms around Gale’s neck to brace myself. He’s laughing, happy. “Hey!” I protest, but I’m laughing, too. Gale sets me down but doesn’t release his hold on me. “Okay, let’s run away.” [...] “You’re sure?” I say. [...] “I’m sure. I’m completely, entirely, one hundred percent sure.” - Yeah, and I’m sure you’re not going to change your opinion in the next five minutes, Gale... In his defense, Gale didn’t know all the details, so in that regard it’s totally valid that he might decide to change his mind after having more input... It’s just that Katniss specifically asks him whether he’s sure and his reply is so full of conviction (100% sure!), only for him to do a complete 180 just a couple of minutes later; Gale’s very hot and cold, which makes for such a harsh contrast when compared to Peeta’s more measured reaction later in the chapter

He tilts his forehead down to rest against mine and pulls me closer. [...] I don’t try to move away. Why should I, anyway? His voice drops to a whisper. “I love you.” That’s why. - Oh man, Katniss just can’t catch a break 😞 Really not wise of Gale to drop the L-bomb here (after, what? a kiss they never talked about and little else... their communication is truly abysmal and it’s really damaging to their relationship, hurting the both of them)

“Gale, I can’t think about anyone that way now. All I can think about, every day, is how afraid I am. And there doesn’t seem to be room for anything else. If we could get somewhere safe, maybe I could be different. I don’t know.” I can see him swallowing his disappointment. “So, we’ll go. We’ll find out.” - I mean, honestly, I totally understand where Katniss is coming from - she doesn’t need a romantic interest, she needs a partner, which is why she’s been so eager to talk to her hunting partner, someone she’s used to rely on for survival and now he’s also confounding their relationship by introducing that romance-angle (as if it wasn’t bad enough that her relationship with Peeta got kind of messed up when that same angle was forced upon them prematurely)... Also, telling how Katniss thinks she’d have to be different to maybe even consider a romantic relationship with Gale - Katniss as she is right now just can’t see herself wanting to be with Gale romantically; it would require a change... I’ve got to give Gale credit for still going along with it, and trying to push past his disappointment, though

“My [Gale’s] mother is going to take some convincing.” [...] “Mine, too. I’ll just have to make her see reason. Take her for a long walk. Make sure she understands we won’t survive the alternative.” “She’ll understand. I watched a lot of the Games with her and Prim. She won’t say no to you,” says Gale. - That’s interesting, I wonder what exactly Gale means by that? That Mrs. Everdeen won’t say no to Katniss because she feels guilty that Katniss had to go through the Games or because watching her daughter compete in the Games really made her realize how messed up Panem is? Or that she’s more inclined to trust Katniss’s judgement after everything that has happened?

“Haymitch will be the real challenge.” “Haymitch?” Gale abandons the chestnuts. “You’re asking him to come with us?” “I have to, Gale. I can’t leave him and Peeta because they’d-” His scowl cuts me off. “What?” “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how large our party was,” he snaps at me. - Gale doesn’t seem to have realized how close and important Peeta and Haymitch have become to Katniss... maybe because they never properly talked about this aspect of Katniss’s life (I swear, their shoddy communication must account for at least half of the damage their relationship has taken in these past few months alone)

“What if he [Peeta] decides to stay?” he [Gale] asks. I try to sound indifferent, but my voice cracks. “Then he stays.” “You’d leave him behind?” Gale asks. “To save Prim and my mother, yes,” I answer. “I mean, no! I’ll get him to come.” “And me, would you leave me?” Gale’s expression is rock hard now. - Boy, oh boy! I think Gale knows (like Peeta) that Katniss could never leave behind the people she cares about; then, he’s kind of gauging whether Peeta has already received the Katniss Everdeen Stamp of ‘Caring’ - and, as it turns out, he has! And then Gale ends up making it into a bit of competition by asking her whether she would leave him behind (or, alternately, her turning him down has him confused about the depth of their relationship, I dunno); not fun

“There’s an uprising in Eight?” he [Gale] says in a hushed voice. I try to backpedal. To defuse him, as I tried to defuse the districts. - Katniss is going to be about as successful as she’d been at defusing the districts, too - But here we have another example of Katniss trying to rein in Gale’s temper because she’s afraid he’s going to get himself in trouble (like when she decided not to tell him about Snow’s visit to her house because she was worried what he’d do with that information)... It’s really not great that she feels the need to censor herself so he won’t do something dangerous... Katniss knows first-hand how badly impulsive actions and decisions can be received in the Capitol - and she never even meant for a rebellion to happen!

“And it’s my fault, Gale. Because of what I did in the arena. If I had just killed myself with those berries, none of this would’ve happened. Peeta could have come home and lived, and everyone else would have been safe. too.” “Safe to do what?” he says in a gentler tone. “Starve? Work like slaves? Send their kids to the reaping? You haven’t hurt people - you’ve given them an opportunity. They just have to be brave enough to take it. - Katniss is taking all the responsibility upon herself again... Gale is right to point out that she was merely a catalyst, not the cause for the rebellion - the cause are the awful living conditions of the people in the districts

“Stop it! You don’t know what you’re saying. The Peacekeepers outside of Twelve, they’re not like Darius, or even Cray! The lives of district people - they mean less than nothing to them!” I say. “That’s why we have to join the fight!” he answers harshly. “No! we have to leave here before they kill us and a lot of other people, too!” [...] “You leave, then, I’d never go in a million years.” [...] “What about your family?” “What about the other families, Katniss? The ones who can’t run away?” - This discourse is so painful because they are both right - Katniss has seen more of the districts and how things are handled beyond the (relatively tame) confines of D12 and it’s fair that she wants to know that the people she cares about are safe from harm; Gale, of course, has a point commenting that not everyone has that opportunity and the only way to have a long-lasting, wide-spread improvement of their conditions is through rebelling against their oppressor - but that will inevitably come along with sacrifices and collateral damage and it’s easy to say that it will be worth it in the long run, but when those who are hurt/dead could end up being your loved ones, it’s definitely easier said than done

He throws Cinna’s gloves at my feet. “I changed my mind. I don’t want anything they made in the Capitol.” And he’s gone. I look down at the gloves. Anything they made in the Capitol? Was that directed at me? Does he think I am now just another product of the Capitol and therefore something untouchable? The unfairness of it all fills me with rage. But it’s mixed up with fear over what kind of crazy thing he might do next. - Gale getting rid of Cinna’s gloves just because they are from the Capitol is a prime example of this “us vs. them” mindset that he will be (worringly) fast to adopt - of course, perceiving the opposite side as “other” will make it easier to fight against them; however, it’s all too easy to lose sight of your opponent’s humanity when you think like that (think of how Gale has a hard time understanding Katniss’s distress upon seeing her prep team being treated so terribly/inhumanely in D13); Katniss feeling upset that Gale might perceive her as a product of the Capitol instead of its victim is understandable (and isn’t that exactly what the inhabitants of D13 are going to think of Peeta in MJ?) - and yet, she is still worried Gale could get himself into trouble with his impulsivity; she’s a good bean

”Going to town?” I ask. “Yes. I’m supposed to eat dinner with my family,” he [Peeta] says. - I’m tripping over the word ‘supposed’ here - it doesn’t sound like Peeta’s looking forward to hanging out with his fam, although it can’t be that often, since they’ve been away on Victory Tour and he is living alone (maybe the end of the chapter will give us another hint why that is 😒😒)... I can’t help but wonder whether these family dinners are mainly for public perception (in that case... it really is no wonder Peeta is so good at playing the cameras - poor guy had to fool the outside world his entire life) or because they are the only chance for Peeta to hang out with any of the members of his family he might actually want to spend some time with

“Peeta, if I asked you to run away from the district with me, would you?” Peeta takes my arm, bringing me to a stop. He doesn’t need to check my face to see if I’m serious. “Depends on why you’re asking.” President Snow wasn’t convinced by me. There’s an uprising in District Eight. We have to get out,” I say. “By ‘we’ do you mean just you and me? No. Who else would be going?” he asks. - Peeta doesn’t just blindly agree to Katniss’s proposal; he needs to know what’s going on first (he has been burnt before - no more secrets!) - and it’s a testament to how well he knows her that as soon as he’s asking whether she meant just the two of them, he corrects himself because knows that Katniss would never leave the ones she cares about behind

“What about Gale?” he says. “I don’t know. He might have other plans,” I say. Peeta shakes his head and gives me rueful smile. “I bet he does. Sure, Katniss, I’ll go.” I feel a slight twinge of hope. “You will?” “Yeah. But I don’t think for a minute you will,” he says. [...] “Then you don’t know me. Be ready. It could be any time.” - Telling how Peeta immediately agrees to the plan once he gathers that Gale won’t come - he knows that Katniss cares about Gale and could never leave him behind, ergo she’d never actually leave under these circumstances - he knows her so well. Also, Katniss’s reaction is like that of a petulant child, it’s kind of funny 😄

“Katniss, hold up.” [...] “I really will go, if you want me to. I just think we better talk it through with Haymitch. Make sure we won’t be making things worse for everyone.” - Ultimately, Peeta would follow Katniss to the ends of the earth - doesn’t mean that he can’t throw in a sensible suggestion in there as well 😉 (Also, in the next chapter we will see how Katniss, Gale, and Peeta might be a little too inexperienced/naive to be able to form accurate expectations of what is to come - Haymitch and his generation have a little more experience in that regard)

He raises his head. “What’s that?” [...] I haven’t noticed the strange noise coming from the square. A whistling, the sound of an impact, the intake of breath from a crowd. “Come on,” Peeta says, his face suddenly hard. I don’t know why. I can’t place the sound, even guess at the situation. But it means something bad to him. - Why does my sweet boy know what a whipping sounds like, Suzanne, huh?! Care to explain that? 😭

Peeta steps up on a crate against the wall of the sweetshop and offers me a hand while he scans the square. I’m halfway up when he suddenly blocks my way. “Get down. Get out of here!” He’s whispering, but his voice is harsh with insistence. - Peeta was offering his hand to help Katniss up the crate because they are a team (and he’s a gentleman)! It’s only when he recognizes who is receiving those lashes and realizes that Katniss will lose her shit once she knows, which could make the current situation even worse, that he urges her to leave, and he is not the only one to think that: - Voices hiss. “Get out of here, girl.” “Only make it worse.” What do you want to do? Get him killed?”

Chapter 8

It’s too late to stop the arm from descending, and I instinctively know I won’t have the power to block it. Instead I throw myself directly between the whip and Gale. I’ve flung out my arms to protext as much of his broken body as possible, so there’s nothing to deflect the lash. I take the full force of it across the left side of my face. - Katniss is so selfless; she knows that it’s either Gale getting hit again or a lash to her own face and she chooses the latter

“Hold it!” a voice barks. Haymitch appears and trips over a Peacekeeper lying on the ground. It’s Darius. [...] He’s knocked out but still breathing. What happened? Did he try to come to Gale’s aid before I got here? - Haymitch sure appeared quickly - I can easily imagine Peeta taking off immediately to get him (or send someone to bring him to the square) once he knew Katniss couldn’t be stopped; but if Haymitch had been at his house in Victor’s Village, there is no way he’d have made that quickly to the square... maybe he was already at the Hob and had gotten wind of the whole situation? Also, poor Darius! Wearing a uniform/being in some sort of position of power is no guarantee you won’t get punished as soon as you show the tiniest glimpse of compassion - in a place like Panem, nobody is safe from the caprice of the people in charge

I see a flicker of recognition in the eyes of the man with the whip. [...] it wouldn’t be easy to identify me as the victor of the last Hunger Games. Especially with half my face swelling up. But Haymitch has been showing up on television for years, and he’d be difficult to forget. - Getting Haymitch truly was the smartest move to make (which is why I’m pretty sure it was a move on Peeta’s part - he’d know how to use reminders of ‘appearances’ to ensure a punishment wouldn’t go ‘too far’, y’know 😢). But also - Thread must have lived under a flipping rock, to not being able to recognizes Katniss (her face must have been plastered all over the place during the Victory Tour, which just had concluded recently) - or he was just too in the heat of the moment, with someone opposing him, bleugh 😒

“He [Gale] was poaching. What business is it of hers, anyway?” says the man. “He’s her cousin.” Peeta’s got my other arm now, but gently. “And she’s my fiancée. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us.” - I love how Peeta’s just laying it down as it is; his phrasing just sounds so factual, rather than provocative (although it is, of course); he really has a way with words - Maybe we’re it. The only three people in the district who could make a stand like this. Although it’s sure to be temporary. There will be repercussions. - Haymitch, Peeta, and Katniss working together as a team again! Also, a good example of the effect people with public influence can have

One [Peacekeeper], a woman named Purnia who eats regularly at Greasy Sae’s, steps forward stiffly. “I believe, for a first offense, the required number of lashes has been dispensed, sir. Unless your sentence is death, which we would carry out by firing squad.” “Is that the standard protocol here?” asks the Head Peacekeeper. “Yes, sir,” Purnia says, and several others nod in agreement. I’m sure none of them actually know because, in the Hob, the standard protocol for someone showing up with a wild turkey is for everybody to bid on the drumsticks. - It’s kinda nice to see the local Peacekeepers supporting Purnia’s claim to get this display to stop - this is the only way out of this situation where Thread’s authority is not openly challenged (and we know Thread doesn’t take well to having his authority challenged - see Darius)

There’s no stretcher, but the old woman at the clothing stall sells us the board that serves as her countertop. “Just don’t tell where you got it,” she says, packing up the rest of her goods quickly. Most of the square has emptied, fear getting the better of compassion. But after what happened, I can’t blame anyone. - It’s sad how that air of intimidation makes people want to mask their acts of compassion (and also says a lot about the precariousness of the existing living situations if that old lady is still selling that board - I’d never even consider exchanging money for that, but that’s probably my privileged situation showing here; Katniss brings up the theme of fear vs compassion - very fitting, since it seems to be her driving force (although, generally, her compassion wins out over her fear) and despite her assertion that fear appears to be getting the better of compassion we see a good amount of people reaching out to help, such as the following example:

Leevy, a girl who lives a few houses down from mine in the Seam, takes my arm. My mother kept her little brother alive last year when he caught the measles. “Need help getting back?” Her gray eyes are scared but determined. - The subtle suggestion here that Leevy might be further motivated to help out because Katniss’s mom helped her little brother is also an excellent example of how kindness breeds kindness

“Get some snow on that,” Haymitch orders over his shoulder. I scoop up a handful of snow and press it against my cheek, numbing a bit of the pain. - This moment reminded me of Peeta immediately reaching for some ice from that fruit tureen after Haymitch hit him on their way to the Games in THG (Ch. 4) - their different immediate reactions to getting hit in the face could simply be due to the fact that Katniss is a little too preoccupied worrying about Gale to think about her injury, of course, but I feel like you could also interpret them as examples for how much experience Katniss and Peeta have with being hit in the face, respectively...

Gale must have gone to Cray’s house, as he’s done a hundred times, knowing Cray pays well for a wild turkey. Instead he found the new Head Peacekeeper, a man they heard someone call Romulus Thread. No one knows what happened to Cray. He was buying white liquor in the Hob just this morning [...] but now he’s nowhere to be found. - As I’ve already mentioned regarding Darius, inhabiting some position of power does not guarantee you any safety in Panem (there is always someone more powerful who will treat their inferiors like garbage, if they feel like it)

By the time I showed up, he [Gale]’d been lashed at least forty times. He passed out around thirty. - Jesus 😨 poor Gale!

“What about Darius?” Peeta asks.“ After about twenty lashes, he stepped in, saying that was enough. Only he didn’t do it smart and official, like Purnia did. He grabbed Thread’s arm and Thread hit him in the head with the butt of the whip. Nothing good waiting for him,” says Bristel. - It’s so messed up how it is not enough to have someone who’d stand up and do something about a horrible situation - they have to do it the right way, or else they’re toast; there really shouldn’t have to be a smart way of doing the right thing

Snow begins, thick and wet, making visibility even more difficult. - (President) Snow is coming down hard on them, making it hard to see what’s up ahead

Ever so gently, she [Mrs. Everdeen] begins to clean the mutilated flesh on Gale’s back. I feel sick to the stomach, useless, the remaining snow dripping from my glove into a puddle on the floor. Peeta puts me in a chair and holds a cloth filled with fresh snow to my cheek. - Although she’s quite squeamish, Katniss stays as Gale gets treated (the force that holds the loved ones of the hurt/dying, just like when Peeta was being treated after their Games); meanwhile, Peeta is taking care of Katniss - there is so much care + love to be found in this moment

My mother has to save the strongest [painkillers] for the worst pain, but what is the worst pain? To me, it’s always the pain that is present. If I were in charge, those painkillers would be gone in a day because I have so little ability to watch suffering. - Honestly, same; I can’t stomach seeing other people suffer without feeling overwhelmed and feeling like crying... I don’t know how professionals do it

“Just give him the medicine!” I scream at her. [...] “Take her out,” says my mother. Haymitch and Peeta literally carry me from the room while I shout obscenities at her. They pin me down on a bed in one of the extra bedrooms until I stop fighting. - Oof. Poor Katniss! But yeah, it was the best call to remove her from the situation, Mrs. E. had to focus on what she was doing... Also, Haymitch and Peeta are the ones to get Katniss out of there and stay with her - these three take care of each other!

After a while, my mother comes in and treats my face. Then she holds my hand, stroking my arm, while Haymitch fills her in on what happened with Gale. “So it’s starting again?” she says. “Like before?” - Katniss’s mom has become a much more active and soothing presence in this book, I like it... Also, what does “again” mean? Does this imply there has been an attempted uprising in D12 that needed to be squashed before?

Cray would have been disliked, anyway, because of the uniform he wore, but it was his habit of luring starving young women into his bed for money that made him an object of loathing in the district. In really bad times, the hungriest would gather at his door at nightfall, vying for the chance to earn a few coins to feed their families by selling their bodies. Had I been older when my father died, I might have been among them. - Horrifying and absolutely disgusting 🤢 Those poor women! How desperate they must have been!

... when the doorbell rings, I shoot straight out of bed. [...] “They [the peacekeepers] can’t have him,” I say. “Might be you they’re after,” Haymitch reminds me. “Or you,” I say. “Not my house,” Haymitch points out. “But I’ll get the door.” “No, I’ll get it,” says my mother quietly. - Again, Mrs. Everdeen is taking the initiative! She was so watered down in the movies

[Madge] holds out a small, damp cardboard box to me. “Use these for your friend,” she says. I take off the lid of the box, revealing half a dozen vials of clear liquid. [...] “What is that stuff?” asks Peeta. “It’s from the Capitol. It’s called morphling,” my mother answers. “I didn’t even know Madge knew Gale,” says Peeta. “We used to sell her strawberries,” I say almost angrily. What am I angry about, though? Not that she has brought the medicine, surely. “She must have quite a taste for them,” says Haymitch. That’s what nettles me. It’s the implication that there’s something going on between Gale and Madge. And I don’t like it. “She’s my friend” is all I say. - I mean, Katniss could be mad because A) Gale had literally just told her he loved her a few hours ago and if there was something (reciprocated) going on between Gale and Madge, that would have been pretty shitty for both girls involved and also B) she is friends with both of them and it would be hurtful to learn that two of your closest friends had been seeing each other without telling you anything about it... also, she’s super upset over Gale getting so seriously hurt just after they’d had an argument, her feelings are all over the place

... I’m selfish. I’m a coward. I’m the kind of girl, who, when she might actually be of use, would run to stay alive and leave those who couldn’t follow to suffer and die. This is the girl Gale met in the woods today. No wonder I won the Games. No decent person ever does. You saved Peeta, I think weakly. But now I question even that. I knew good and well that my life back in District 12 would be unlivable if I let that boy die. - Yes, Katniss, you knew that your life back in D12 would have been unlivable if he died - but not because you feared that people would shun you; it was because you “couldn’t lose the boy with the bread” and because “if he dies, I’ll never go home, not really”... This is an excellent example of how distorted your memories can get when you are in a bad headspace at present

The berries. I realize the answer to who I am lies in that handful poisonous fruit. If I held them out to save Peeta because I knew I would be shunned if I came back without him, then I am despicable. If I held them out because I loved him, I am still self-centered, although forgivable. But if I held them out to defy the Capitol, I am someone of worth. - Katniss, you don’t have to be planning to overthrow a corrupt and cruel government to be someone of worth! You’re someone of worth just by being yourself! - The trouble is, I don’t know exactly what was going on inside me at that moment. - Frankly, very rarely are our motivations clearly defined by a single factor - or my professor would not have been able to teach an entire semester-long course on motivation psychology😉)

Chapter 9

Gale’s dead to the world, but his fingers are locked around mine. I smell fresh bread and turn my stiff neck to find Peeta looking down at me with such a sad expression. I get the sense that he’s been watching us awhile. “Go on up to bed, Katniss. I’ll look after him now,” he says. - Peeta! Must have been hard for him to see Katniss like this (and the underlying strength of Katniss and Gale’s relationship, when his relationship with Katniss is still not all that solidified), and yet he’s being such a good bean about it 😭

I give a strangled cry and wake with a start, sweating and shivering at once. Cradling my damaged cheek in my hand, I remind myself that it was not Clove but Thread who gave me this wound. I wish that Peeta were here to hold me, until I remember I’m not supposed to wish that anymore. I have chosen Gale and the rebellion, and a future with Peeta is the Capitol’s design, not mine. - Katniss, gurl... Maybe your instinctive desire to receive comfort from Peeta is trying to tell you something??!? Also, Katniss is forcing this strange dichotomous association of Gale = rebellion and Peeta = Capitol, when in just a bit, she’s clearly connecting Peeta to the rebellion as well (aside from the fact that Peeta was basically the first person to suggest to her that maybe a rebellion was necessary... just saying)

Fighting the Capitol assures their swift retaliation. I must accept that at any moment I can be arrested. [...] There might be torture. Mutliation. A bullet through the skull in the town square [...] I imagine these things and I’m terrified, but let’s face it: They’ve been lurking in the back of my brain, anyway. [...] I’m already a target. - Oh geez! Despite admitting that she’s terrified of what the Capitol is capable fo doing to her, Katniss is still pretty composed naming the possible horrors in store for her, which is just a heartbreaking reminder of how many terrible things she has already had to endure.🙁

Now comes the harder part. I have to face the fact that my family and friends might share this fate. Prim. I need only to think of Prim and all my resolve disintegrates. It’s my job to protect her. [...] I can’t let the Capitol hurt Prim. - 😭😭😭 Katniss has reached a point where she can put her own need for survival/physical intactness aside, but the thought of something awful happening to Prim stops her short (it’s so strange to think that, in a twisted way, it wasn’t the Capitol who’d ended up inflicting the final harm upon Prim...)

And then it hit’s me. They already have. They have killed her father in those wretched mines. They have sat by as she almost starved to death. [...] She has been hurt far worse than I had at the age of twelve. And even that pales in comparison with Rue’s life. [...] Prim... Rue... aren’t they the very reason I have to try to fight? Because what has been done to them is so wrong, so beyond justification, so evil that there is no choice? Because no one has the right to treat them as they have been treated? Yes. This is the thing to remember when fear threatens to swallow me up. What I am about to do, whatever any of us are forced to endure, it is for them. - All these things are very true and it’s also very fitting that the main motivation for Katniss would be to ensure a better future for the children of Panem (and to avenge the evils done to the people close to her heart... while Katniss of course can see the abstract bigger picture/reason for the rebellion, she always operates best when it comes to specific people/circumstances she has a deep, personal connection with)... But also: all these things apply to you, too, Katniss! Despite your tendency to feel responsible for everything and everyone, you’re still a child that had to grow up way too fast and had to endure way too much!

We need someone to direct us and reassure us this is possible. And I don’t think I’m that person. I may have been a catalyst for rebellion, but a leader should be someone with conviction, and I’m barely a convert myself. Someone with unflinching courage, and I’m still working hard at finding mine. Someone with clear and persuasive words, and I’m so easily tongue-tied. Words. I think of words and I think of Peeta. - Katniss’s idea of a great leader for the rebellion is Peeta - interesting, isn’t it (she could have considered Gale, but no)? She makes a good point, though: it helps when a leader has plenty of charisma, and our boy has that in spades; he’s got a good set of morals, is not above joining in on the action/risking his own neck when the need arises and is very genuine and purposeful with his words and actions, which is inspiring... I think Katniss is severely underselling how courageous she is, though

He could move a crowd to action, I bet, if he chose to. Would find the things to say. But I’m sure the idea has never crossed his mind. - Why would you assume that, Katniss? Peeta’s literally the one to suggest to you that trying to placate the district might not be the right thing to do... Peeta’s not someone who’d stir up trouble just for the sake of stirring up trouble, sure; he’s much more deliberate about doing things the ‘right’ way, but he’s not generally opposed to challenging authorities (he’s literally the one to openly gift some of your winnings to another district!)

She knows what she’s doing, my mother. I feel a pang of remorse about yesterday, the awful things I yelled at her as Peeta and Haymitch dragged me from the kitchen. “I’m sorry. About screaming at you yesterday.” - It’s so sweet how Katniss feels sorry for yelling at her mom and apologizes to her; their relationship really has improved so much in this book - “I’ve heard worse,” she says. “You’ve seen how people are, when someone they love is in pain.” Someone they love. [...] Of course, I love Gale. But what kind of love does she mean? What do I mean when I say I love Gale? I don’t know. I did kiss him last night, in a moment when my emotions were running so high. But i’m sure he doesn’t remember it. Does he? I hope not. - Katniss is struggling to figure out in what way she loves Gale... She definitely doesn’t want him to remember their kiss because she knows it wouldn’t be fair to give him the hope that she might be able to return his romantic feelings when she is still in the dark about her own

... and I can’t really think about kissing when I’ve got a rebellion to incite. I give my head a little shake to clear it. “Where’s Peeta?” I say. - Lol, goes on to immediately mention the guy she’s been kissing these past few weeks (see, with Peeta you could actually have both: kissing and rebellion, Katniss - he’s the perfect man, isn’t he? 😉😋)

“He went home when he heard you stirring. Didn’t want to leave his house unattended during the storm,” says my mother. - Yeah, I don’t think Peeta left because of his house; I’m pretty sure he needed some time to himself after seeing Katniss and Gale this morning - he is the type of person who needs to be alone to work through his feelings when he’s feeling upset - “Did he get back all right?” [...] “Why don’t you give him a call and check?” she says. I go into the study, a room I’ve pretty much avoided since my meeting with President Snow, and dial Peeta’s number. After a few rings he answers. “Hey. I just wanted to make sure you got home,” I say. “Katniss. I live three houses away from you,” he says. “I know, but with the weather and all,” I say. “Well, I’m fine. Thank you for checking.” There’s a long pause. “How’s Gale?” - Aww, Katniss is worried about Peeta and gives him a call, although she hates being in the study 😊 Also, her calling him must have been at least of some reassurance to Peeta that she genuinely cares about him, in some way (though, he’s still clearly busy processing her relationship with Gale, since he’s asking about him as if he hadn’t seen that dude just a couple of minutes prior)

“Have you seen Haymitch today?” “I checked in on him. Dead drunk. But I built up his fire and left him some bread,” he says. “I wanted to talk to - to both of you.” I don’t dare add more, here on my phone, which is surely tapped. - Despite everything, Peeta still made sure to look after Haymitch! And I know, there is also the issue of their houses themselves potentially being bugged, but I couldn’t help imagining how they could easily avoid the whole phone-tapping thing simply by using a tin can telephone (they do live pretty close to each other, after all) 😂

“You don’t even have a phone,” I say. “Effie had that fixed,” he [Haymitch] says. “Do you know she asked me if I’d like to give you away? I told her the sooner the better.” “Haymitch.” I can hear the pleading creeping into my voice. “Katniss.” He mimics my tone. “It won’t work.” - Okay, but Haymitch mimicking Katniss’s tone reminds me so much of when Peeta mimicked her tone towards the end of their Games, when she was trying to persuade him to climb into a tree as a lookout while he was insistent she’d show him some plants to gather; these three, I swear! 😂 On a sad note, Haymitch is talking from experience here when he’s advising Katniss not to challenge the Capitol 🥺😢

Some streets away from the square, I see a blaze flare up. None of us has to say it. That can only be the Hob going up in smoke. I think of Greasy Sae, Ripper, all my friends who make their livings there. - Katniss considers the people from the Hob her friends - honestly, even if the Hawthornes, Everdeens, Peeta and Haymitch all had agreed to leave D12, I don’t think Katniss would have been able to go through with it - she cares too much about the people in D12 to have been able to leave them to their fate

“Well, I better go see how much rubbing alcohol the apothecary can spare.” He [Haymitch] trudges off across the square and I look at Peeta. “What’s he want that for?” Then I realize the answer. “We can’t let him drink it. He’ll kill himself, or at the very least go blind. I’ve got some white liquor put away at home.” “Me, too. Maybe that will hold him until Ripper finds a way to be back in business,” says Peeta. - Another instance of Katniss and Peeta being on the same wavelength, having taken precautions to help out Haymitch so he doesn’t have to go cold turkey again

We find Hazelle in her house, nursing a very sick Posy. I recognize the measles spots. “I couldn’t leave her,” she says. “I knew Gale’d be in the best possible hands.” - The second mention of someone having contracted the measles in D12 - Why the heck does the Capitol withhold measles vaccination from the people in the districts?! They’re inflicting unnecessary damage onto the very people they want to exploit... But I guess cruelty isn’t always about playing it smart and logical...

When we’re outside, I turn to Peeta. “You go on back. I want to walk by the Hob.” “I’ll go with you,” he says. “No. I’ve dragged you into enough trouble,” I tell him. “And avoiding a stroll by the Hob... that’s going to fix things for me?” He smiles and takes my hand. - They are a team, they stick together (and they are constantly holding hands, always physically linked to each other)😩💕 Also, Peeta pointing out the irrationality of Katniss’s train of thought to calm her down and stay with her reminds me of how he’s going to use logical reasoning to calm her down after the jabberjays in the Quarter Quell arena

We go back to the square. I buy some cakes from Peeta’s father while they exchange small talk about the weather. No one mentions the ugly tools of torture just yards from the front door. The last thing I notice as we leave the square is that I do not recognize even one of the Peacekeepers’ faces. - How weird is it that Peeta and his dad just talk about the weather?! Is this supposed to illustrate how in the Mellark family they just ignored the ugliness going on in their lives *cough cough* the abuse *cough cough* and just pretended that everything was fine, on a very superficial level? Also, it makes perfect sense that the Peacekeepers have been exchanged; the more time we spend with people, the more likely we are to like them - that won’t do if you want to have a ruthless authoritarian police force in the districts

As the days pass, things go from bad to worse. The mines stay shut for two weeks, and by that time half of District 12 is starving. The number of kids signing up for tesserae soars, but they often don’t receive their grain. Food shortages begin, and even those with money come away from stores empty-handed. [...] The eagerly awaited food promised for Parcel Day arrives spoiled and defiled by rodents. - This is just so awful and despicable 😞 Life in the districts was already horrible but now the government does not even honor the extortionary rules they themselves have set up! I can’t help but wonder if the lack of food could be traced back to rebellions in the food supplying districts and, to keep this from the inhabitants of the Capitol, the reduced amount of good food was (obviously) kept for the Capitolites, so that the bad food had to be sent to the districts, anyway... It just seems like such a breach of ‘honor’/etiquette on the Capitol’s part, I dunno... Or maybe Snow was just desperate to use any means necessary to stamp out any potential rebellions in the districts that he still had some control over...

Gale goes home with no more talk of rebellion between us. But I can’t help thinking that everything he sees will only strengthen his resolve to fight back. [...] Rory has signed up for tesserae, something Gale can’t even speak about - Poor, Gale! Poor Hawthornes :(

My fingers have all but decided to release the arrow when I see the object in the glove. It’s a small white circle of flat bread. More of a cracker, really. Gray and soggy around the edges. But an image is clearly stamped in the center of it. It’s my mockingjay. - It is so very telling that the true symbol of the rebellion combines something symbolic of Katniss (which also contains a nod to Rue) and something symbolic of Peeta (the bread/cracker!) The people in the districts have rightfully recognized the both of them as symbol of the rebellion; they have a truer vision of the matter than the more artifically/forcefully constructed symbol of rebellion that D13 /Coin will push - we will also see that when the people in D13 will view Peeta as a traitor, while the rebels Katniss will visit in D8 instead ask her about Peeta and assure her that they know he was speaking under duress

#thgagain #thg #katniss everdeen #hunger games #thg meta #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #gale hawthorne #my sketches and drawings #thg fanart #catching fire

102 notes · View notes

waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

Tis the Damn Season

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Based off Tis The Damn Season

Masterlist

It was his jacket.

It was 100% his jacket, the red plaid one he only wore for the holidays.

And there it was, that stupid red jacket, standing in front of the tea section of your local grocery store.

He used to drape that jacket over your shoulders when you got cold on dates. Now, you wore a coat he had never seen before and you had no idea who’s shoulders had taken your please.

It had to be him. It just had to be your ex boyfriend in the one grocery store in town on the very day you decided to run some errands.

He just had to be there.

You immediately turned around, hoping to avoid a reunion with who that jacket belonged to. You looked over your shoulder at him and accidentally made eye contact, making you whip around and flush. You cursed yourself as you heard Tom approaching you, wishing you could disappear into this air.

“Y/n?” His voice sounded behind you. “Is that you?”

“Tom!” You pretended to see him for the first time as you turned around. He looked different, but after all, it had been four years since you’d seen him. Just from the look of him, you could tell there was an ache in him put there by the ache in you. But despite the ache, he pulled you into a hug.

“Hey.” He sighed as he rubbed your back. “It’s been a long time.”

“I know. I haven’t seen you since high school.” You chuckled nervously as you pulled away.

“Wow.” Tom was taken aback. “Has it really been that long?”

“Yeah.” You told him. “The night of our graduation was the last time I ever saw you.”

“Right.” Tom smiled sadly. “You just graduated college right? In June?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, feeling the tension between you. “How’d you know about that?”

“Your mum and I kept in touch.” He admitted. “She sent me pictures. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Oh, thanks.” You laughed awkwardly. “I’m gonna have to talk to her about sending pictures to my high school boyfriend.”

“Yeah.” He laughed as well, before clearing his throat. “You know, I looked for you every time I came home for the holidays. All fours years of college.”

“I know. And I made sure you never found me.” You forced a smile, an uncomfortable silence settling between you avoided eye contact.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry about that night. Graduation night, I mean.” Tom said suddenly. “I didn’t know you were gonna react like that.”

“You didn’t know I was gonna be upset when you waited to tell me you were leaving town to pursue acting until the week before you were leaving?” You cocked your head but kept a smile on your face so you wouldn’t seem reproachful.

“I didn’t know you were gonna break up with me and stop speaking to me.” He corrected you, also keeping a slight smile on his face.

“I was mad at you.” You admitted. “I was mad you waited so long to tell me.”

“Are you still mad?” He teased, making you chuckle. “Am I the subject of a bunch of break up songs I don’t know about?”

“No.” You smiled coyly. “I stopped being mad by the time school started up again. Then I just missed you.”

“You did? I missed you too.” Toms eyes softened. “I called you all summer. You never picked up.”

“Like I said, I was mad.” Your lips tightened into a line as you looked around awkwardly.

“Yeah.” Tom laughed sadly and looked down. “You broke my heart.”

“You broke mine first.” You countered. “So I guess we broke each other’s.”

Tom looked at you for a moment before shrugging, seemingly making a decision.

“We could call it even.” He suggested. “We could put all of that behind us and just enjoy each other’s company while we’re here.”

“You wanna do that?” You raised an eyebrow. “You want to wipe the slate clean?”

“If it’s okay with you, it’s okay with me.” Tom nodded, making you smile. You had to admit, you missed him terribly. The past was far behind you now and you saw no reason to cling to it.

“All right.” You decided. “I’m staying at my parents house. You should come by sometime.”

“I will. I miss them. I miss adults.” Tom shook his head. “The people in LA are so boring. Actors, especially.”

“Actors, huh?” You snorted. “If I wanted to know who you were hanging with while I was gone, I would've asked you.”

“I wasn’t trying to be boastful.” Tom rolled his eyes playfully. “I was just saying.”

“I’m only teasing you.” You assured him. “I had to make sure the stardom didn’t go to your head.”

“I promise you, it didn’t. I’m still the guy who took you to prom and tripped over your dress.” He reminded you of the simpler times, making you smile.

“What are you doing today?” You asked suddenly, not wanting the reunion to end.

“Nothing. Why?”

“I’m parked over by the Methodist and the high school.” You jerked your head in that direction. “We could just ride around, if you want.”

“Do you still drive that big red truck?” Tom smiled like a child.

“I do indeed.” You nodded.

“Then yeah.” He chuckled. “Let’s go.”

You paid for your groceries and led Tom back to your truck, easily spotting it’s bright red color in the falling snow.

“It’ll be so weird to be back by the school.” Tom shuddered as he looked back at your old high school. “I never wanted to come back here after we graduated.”

“I know.” You agreed. “But the memories aren’t all bad. We kissed for the first time under those bleachers, if I remember correctly.”

“I remember it too.” Tom smiled sheepishly as he went around to the passenger side. “Didn’t you just get here? How did you get this much mud on your tires?”

“We were in Drivers Ed together.” You reminded him. “You know exactly how my tires got muddy.”

“Right.” Tom laughed as he buckled up. “I believe Mr. Zion called you a pleasure to have in class but reckless behind the wheel.”

“You know me, baby. Always taking the road less traveled.”

“Yeah well, that road was apparently full of mud.” Tom said sarcastically as he got in.

You laughed and started up the car, the cold fogging up your windshield, making you reach for the heat. Tom had the same idea, and your hands touched accidentally. You both smiled as you withdrew them, blushing as you turned away.

“Sorry.” You said as you reached for the heat again, an embarrassed smile still on your face.

“It’s okay.” Tom nodded. “I’ve missed your smile.”

“I’m only smiling because I’m in my old car with my high school boyfriend and I’m internally panicking.” You admitted as you began to drive.

“Why are you panicking?” He asked. “We’ve known each other our whole lives.”

“Your life is in LA now.” You shrugged as you kept your eyes ahead. “You don’t know me anymore.”

“I want to.” Tom confessed. “I hated that we fell out of touch. I didn’t know giving this small town meant I had to give up you.”

“Tom, I told you. I’m not mad at you anymore.” You assured him. “And honestly, I don’t even blame you for leaving. We weren’t meant for a life in a small town. As soon as I could, I escaped it too. You just escaped first.”

“I think about that night a lot.” Tom admitted. “You were so excited to graduate. I had to go and ruin it by telling you I was leaving.”

“You were never great with timing.” You laughed softly. “You literally asked me to be your girlfriend right after I told you my cat died.”

Tom laughed as well, but when you looked at his face in the rear view mirror, he still looked upset.

“I’m surprised you even remember that night.” You kept talking to fill the silence. “I thought all the premiers and movie scripts would have replaced any memories of me.”

“Of course I remember you, darling.” He said certainly. “I remember every thing. All the kisses and dates and fights. I even remember your stupid cat.”

“He never liked you.” You laughed as you turned the corner.

“I know.” Tom rolled his eyes. He quieted down after a moment and returned his gaze to the window.

“God, that feels like so long ago.” You sighed with nostalgia. “What else do you remember about this place?”

“I remember your face when I told you I was leaving.” He said quietly, making you look at him briefly. “I remember how your makeup running down your face. And then I remember you watching me leave. I blocked everything else out.”

Upon hearing Toms words and the strain in his voice, you pulled your car over and looked at him.

“Look, you left. It sucked and it broke my heart but it happened. But you know what? It happened four years ago. I’m over it. So all this guilt you’re feeling is unwarranted. We said we were going to call it even, didn’t we?”

“Yeah. We did.” He nodded but his guilt didn’t let up.

“So stop with the pouting and the guilty eyes and the apologies. I forgave you four years ago.” You laughed, and he finally smiled. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“Well, it is the season for forgiveness.” He said sheepishly as his smile widened.

“There you go.” You cupped his chin. “I’ve missed your smile too, you know. And it’s tis the season. It sounds more festive that way.”

“Fine. Tis the season.” He obliged.

“Tis the damn season, indeed.” You nodded curtly. “Plus, this will be our first holiday together since high school. We should be focusing on that. The past doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Do you ever think about what would have happened to us if I stayed?” Tom asked as he kept his eyes on the falling snow. “Or how different our lives would be now if we went down the same path all those years ago?”

“Of course I do.” You said softly. “I thought about you all the time in college. I wondered what it would be like if I had taken your road instead of driving off on my own.”

“I thought about you too.” A sad look set into Toms eyes. “Honestly, darling, I never stopped loving you. Not even for a day.”

“I didn’t know that.” You bit the inside of your cheek. “I didn’t stop either.”

“You know what else?” Tom swallowed as he stared at you. “I think the road not taken looks real good now.”

“Oh yeah?” You raised an eyebrow and leaned across the transmission. “And where does that road lead?”

“To you.” He smiled coyly. “It always leads to you and my hometown.”

“How long are you in town?” You spoke softly as you pulled him closer by the jacket of his collar.

“I’m here until Monday.” He told you as your noses brushed. “Why?”

“I’m staying at my parents house.” You reminded him. “You should stay there too.”

“Yeah?” He tilted his head. “And do what?”

“You could call me “babe” for the weekend.” You shrugged, lips grazing his. “Or anything else you’d like. I believe “darling” was a favorite of yours.”

“You’d want to do that? Even though I’m leaving?” His eyes darkened.

“Why not? I’ll be yours for the weekend. No strings attached.” You told him before connecting your lips to his. Tom kissed you back, putting his palm on your cheek to keep you close. It was your first kiss since high school, and it felt exactly how you remembered. Tom pulled away to catch his breath and rested his forehead against yours.

“So.” His lips twitched into a smile. “When does that weekend start?”

Time flew and Monday came all too quickly. You and Tom spent the weekend making up for the four years you’d been apart. On the day of his fight, you slept in half the day for old times sake. The sunlight hit you, waking you up and malign you curse your teenage self for not putting up thicker curtains. Tom rolling over beside you startled you but his warm hand on your hip calmed you down.

“Morning, babe.” His voice was husky from just waking.

“Good morning.” You rolled over so you were facing him. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Surprisingly yes, considering we’re two adults sharing your twin sized bed.” Tom chuckled sleepily.

“Must’ve been the company.” You shrugged coyly.

“Must be.” Tom grinned before leaning in to kiss you. You kissed him back before nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

“This is how the past four years should have been. I should have been waking up next to you every morning.” Tom sighed as he rubbed your back.

“I know.” You responded before letting a silence settle in. You both knew the weekend was over, and neither of you wanted it to end.

“We should get up.” You said reluctantly. “Your flight is soon.”

“Yeah.” Tom sighed and untangled himself from you. He got out of bed and pulled his shirt on that had been discarded somewhere on the floor. You found your pajama shirt at the edge of the bed and pulled it on, the cold material sending a chill down your spine. You solemnly watched Tom get dressed, noticing how he kept his back to you. He did this to hide his despair as he got ready to leave the warmest bed he’d ever known.

“Tom?” You asked, making him turn around almost immediately.

“Yes?” He asked, hopeful eyes on you.

“Nothing.” You lost your nerve and sat back into the bed. “Never mind.”

“I don’t have to go yet.” He said quickly. “I could stay a few more days.”

“Why?” You asked sadly. “So I can wait around while you decide if this is worth it or not?”

“Well I won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask me to stay.” Tom answered. “Because I would. If you asked me to, I would stay.”

“What about your life back in LA?” You asked as you got off the bed. “What about your career?”

“I don’t know.” Tom shrugged. “Suddenly that doesn’t matter to me anymore. The last time I left you, all I could think about was making it big. Now all I think about is you.”

You didn’t answer and pulled a sweater over your head, rubbing your arms to assuage you from the chill.

“I messed up last time.” Tom continued. “I never should have left you. Or I should have at least taken you with me.”

“We could have figured something out.” You finally spoke. “I could have looked at schools in LA. You just didn’t give me any time to prepare. Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

“I was so scared that you wouldn’t want to come with me that I just kept putting it off until you couldn’t come anymore.” Tom admitted, tears coming to his eyes as he relived the break up.

“It felt like you were leaving me behind.” You relived it too. “I thought you were running away from me.”

“Darling, I would never run from you.” He promised as he came to your side and put his hands on your face. “Only towards or beside you.”

“You were right.” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as you touched his face. “The road not taken looks real good now.”

“We could make this more than a just a weekend.” He mumbled as his thumb grazed your bottom lip. “I’ll stay here or you could come back with me.”

You let your eyes flutter shut before he pulled you into a kiss, one different from the ones shared the night before. You felt your emotions bubble to the surface and pulled away to rest your forehead on his chest.

“Tom, it’s not realistic.” You sniffled. “It worked for the weekend but it wouldn’t work long term. You know that.”

“Just hear me out.” Tom protested as you pulled away.

“We didn’t work when we were kids. What makes you think we’d work now?”

“We’re different now.” He pleaded. “I’m different now.”

“So what, you think I’m just gonna upend my life to follow you? Or you’re just gonna give up yours to stay with me?” You asked. “Are you even thinking at all?”

“I think you’re the only soul who can tell which smiles I’m faking.” Tom said solemnly. “And I think I’m a damn fool if I let you slip away again.”

You sucked in a sharp breath and cradled yourself as you turned away from him, unable to look at him without caving to his request. Tom slowly came up behind you and rested a hand on your shoulder, gently moving the hair that had been resting there.

“I also think that if a part of you didn’t want this too, you would have left a long time ago.” He whispered, sending shivers down your spine.

“You didn’t want this, remember?” You asked bitterly as you whipped around. “You didn’t want the small town life and the picket fence. You wanted bright lights and Hollywood and that’s what you got. That’s what’s waiting for you in LA.”

“Whats waiting for me in LA are fake friends who hang on the edges of their seats to see if I make it or fail. I saw the bright lights and I don’t want it anymore.”

“Then what do you want?” You asked desperately.

“You.” He said simply. “And if you say no, I’ll know that this time, the only heart I’m breaking is my own.”

You chewed your bottom lip as you stared at him, your whole life looking back at you.

“So, what do you say?” He whispered, desperation heavy in his voice. You rested your hands on his chest and gave him a gentle nod, telling him everything he needed to know.

“You said it yourself.” You smiled softly. “Tis the damn season.”

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort

@foreverxholland @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @babeyspidey @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258

@maybemona @young-romanoff @alexxcorona113 @spideyspeaches @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey @im-still-tryin-to-find-it @big-galaxy-chaos @pandaxnienke @theincredibledeadlyviper @thestylestour @officialsimppage @mrvelscaptains @peterspideysstuff @reemusluupin @peaches-parker @itsemohours @satanswitchings @okkulta @parkerlovebot @sarcasticallywitty15 @mati4188 @geminiparkers @jungkxxkk @friendlyneighborhood-mendes @whatthefuckimbisexual @olixerwxxd @starkbrain @creatorofthegalaxy @far-from-holland @f-hollands @ilovefrogs1000 @itstaskeen @dreamedforu @itmatteredatthetime @rockyrogers

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland angst #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #iron man #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #taylor swift #evermore

521 notes · View notes

derangedhyena-delphinidae · 3 years

Text

numerous issues with “The Aftermath of Seaworld”

When I get time to do so (aka when I’m done with the documentary), I’m likely going to make a video version of this going into the details.

But for right now, I’ve made this. Both as a guideline for me and so everyone can begin to get an idea of the severity of issues involved.

Researching things is time-consuming and can be very difficult - believe me, I know. But I’m of the mind that if you’re making content with the intent of educating people, you have a responsibility to perform a certain level of due diligence. It IS okay to express uncertainty or doubt if you have it. It is NOT okay to confidently assert things that you do not know with certainty.

The video has an anticap slant, and I’m obviously not disagreeing on that front. But again: if you’re gonna go through the trouble of teaching people something. Bare minimum... please make sure it’s actually correct. *** 1) x ‘founded in 1964 and based out of Florida’ - ???? Seaworld definitively began on the west coast, in San Diego, CA. And given that the first park opened in early 1964… things came together before that. Uh? 2) x ‘four people founded Seaworld [...]’ For one… it wasn’t originally conceived as a restaurant, it was originally conceived as an underwater bar/lounge. Two… calling the four guys involved in founding the place “frat brothers” is fucking ridiculous and completely overlooks a) how each was actually involved and b) the overall significance of their contributions to the field as individuals. Hint: like it or not, they were important and did a lot!

3) x If one is going to bring up SWBGCF/rescues while talking about the literal founding of SW, it gives the impression that it’s been around for that duration. It hasn’t. It’s actually a bit unclear when SW started an organized rescue program, but the Fund itself and all that it did came about much later. The rescue information and how it’s presented is actually INCREDIBLY complex, nuanced, and has a fascinating history (from a “bad company behaving badly” perspective). Oversimplifying this, to this degree and in this misinformative way, does the facts of the situation an INCREDIBLE disservice.

4) x [assertive statement about what the name Shamu means] ….Uh actually there’s several explanations for the name Shamu, and the most likely one IMO seems to be the “she-namu” one, not the “friend of Namu” one(? What is this even based on.) 4b) It’s not quite clear if she’s saying “Namu was the first ever orca to be displayed and perform shows” or or Namu was the first to be displayed and, like Shamu, performed shows. Either way, Moby Doll was the first to truly be displayed to the public, not Namu.

5) x ‘Namu died after one year in captivity and you’d think that this might deter Seaworld from doing the same thing again…’ Seaworld truly had nothing to do with Namu. And they leased/took possession of Shamu before Namu died. ‘Again’? What?

6) x “Now, PETA paints a pretty disturbing picture…” [while showing Okura’s artwork] This video segment is, and this is putting it nicely, a pile of poorly-researched BULLSHIT. -Yes, PETA talks about Shamu’s capture, re: the harpooning of her mother. This Youtuber cannot apparently be arsed to look more than 1 Google search into this, as she proceeds to dismiss the information as potentially fabricated. There are two detailed accounts of Shamu’s capture that I’m aware of - in books - and though they have some slight conflicts, it’s absolutely NOT in doubt that the female who was very likely Shamu’s mother was 1) harpooned, 2) died from her injuries and 3) this had been done to make her easier to catch/locate because there was a fucking buoy attached to the harpoon. Which she dragged around for at least 24 hours prior dying. So maybe don’t dismiss that as PETA hysteria, maybe TRY to determine the truth of the matter, which would inform one that it is both true and completely horrifying. -In addition, Okura is an awesome individual who has worked very hard to create a variety of informative artwork for our cause. Okura is NOT associated with PETA and it’s borderline libel in my eyes to use their artwork in this dismissive manner when the primary sources of it can be easily identified online, with full explanations and everything. Do I take special offense to this because of the misuse of artwork? Absolutely. Artists get disrespected enough online. I’m tired of it. This kind of laziness IS NOT acceptable.

7) x ‘timeline is fuzzy about when Shamu died’ …………… it’s…. It’s really not … newspapers are pretty clear about it…..

8) x [complete and utter oversimplification of the lifespan issue, which is not acceptable for anything published in 2020. It just isn’t. If you’re going to bring it up like this, either do the legwork and get into the weeds or stay out.] 8b) [same for reproductive ages. sigh]

9) x if we’re going to talk about when Cornell was involved with Seaworld it’s very important to specify when Cornell was involved with Seaworld and not make it seem like it’s present tense.

10) x “both were rescued by Seaworld” - uh? no. Zero orcas have been rescued by Seaworld. Literally none. The infected-jaw orca was Sandy, whose story is complex and certainly does not involve Seaworld until much later. And many of the orcas in that time period had bullet wounds, often only identified post-mortem because they didn’t seem to hurt the animals much. Also, unflinchingly blending 70s captivity ethics with modern ones is also complete nonsense?

11) x [tilikum coming from sealand] inhales I am going to make an entire video centered on this fucking subject because it’s one of the single most profound arguments for Seaworld being garbage as assessed by US government agencies in the 90s yet everyone utterly fails to mention this. Why?!

12) x what on earth is this nonsense re: quoting a quote from Zimmerman’s article - which has already been removed from its original context, so the original context is not available - and then penalizing the quote for existing as if Zimmerman’s article were the context? That is offensively disingenuous. I honestly don’t know what the original context is, either - but it’s wildly inappropriate to act as if the Zimmerman article is.

13) x this is relatively minor but ‘Paul Sprong’? You literally have his name on the screen. And then mis-reading his age too? While asserting it from a static article published years ago? Effort? Where is it?

14) x ‘another trainer, Peter’ ….. Ken Peters….

15) [weirdly glossing over the widely-available list of orca-trainer injuries/aggressions, despite it being central to the point.] 16) x This pilot whale outrage certainly happened but it was pretty clearly Blackfish that started the cascade of woes for Seaworld. Who has ever asserted this?

17) if you’re gonna just rehash blackfish, tell people to go watch blackfish.

18) x I’ve already gone over the context issue with Seaworld calling out Howard’s statement in Blackfish here (point 23). Which is to say, IN CONTEXT in Blackfish it’s clear what Mr. Garrett is talking about but, divorced from that, it sounds incorrect. But this Youtuber AMPLIFIES the issue by doubling down on the assertion with “no record of a killer whale doing any harm to anyone in the wild.” The surfer event should always be mentioned. Yes, there’s absolutely room for doubt. But there’s also a clear demarcation between an accidental attack (eg mistaken identity, as was likely for the surfer) and intentional one (eg the incidents at marine parks.) Why do people kneecap themselves on this point 18b) please stop acting like Luna represents orcas in general.

19) x “Howard, for all of his research…” … while referring to David Duffus’ b-roll and statements. Uh. 20) x Apparently this Youtuber has single-handedly resolved the dorsal fin issue. You know, the thing that hasn’t been properly researched ever, that has been subject to a ton of debate, that isn’t 100% settled for a variety of reasons, and almost everyone talks about in terms of theories and likely possibilities. 21) x Alexis Martinez wasn’t “torn to shreds.” In a space where even moderate exaggerations are often penalized harshly by the opposition, this kind of blatant nonsense is not welcome. Plus, the reality’s bad enough… you don’t have to make anything up!

22) x *sighs. points at own webpage*

23) Talking about the shows stopping without acknowledging how that’s a bit of a farce is something else. In addition to apparently just flipping to buying what Seaworld’s selling re: its ‘improved image.’

*** Tl;dr video is so unrelentingly full of errors ranging from small to egregious it makes me seriously concerned for the veracity of the rest of this person’s content. The maker of the video provided a list of their sources in their video description, which I will have time to look through in detail later. The above is solely a response to the information they present IN THE VIDEO - which, is very important because let’s be real: a lot of people are not going to look at the list of sources. People don’t even do it when citing papers (no really, you’d be surprised, fml.) For anyone who wants to whinge that I haven’t linked or asserted any sources of my own for my claims… well, remember what I said about time-consuming and ‘I’m busy’? Yhea. Getting all of that together will be part of making a video. So if you want to shrug loudly at my list here… you can, that’s your prerogative, I’m happy to say I DGAF if that’s your takeaway.

What I hope, is that if there’s anything I’ve made clear over the While of running this blog, it’s that I don’t fuck around when it comes to sources and information and do my best to provide what information exists, all of it, not just cherrypicked bits and bobs. Anyways. Here’s step 0 at least. Please don’t share that video. Pretty please.

#seaworld #grumble

480 notes · View notes

hlizr50 · 3 years

Text

Gwynriel Week Day 4 - Music

I'm back, my lovelies. Appreciate the patience.

Let's talk MUSIC, because I have established (with OVERWHELMING support) that Gwyneth Berdara would absolutely LOVE Taylor Swift and would 100% convert Azriel. He would play all begrudging and 'you have questionable tastes, Berdara' but behind closed doors and when they're alone together he's all in. And T. Swift has EVERYTHING. They can be lovey, they can be playful, they can be bitter. There are SO many options.

And, of course, I wouldn't be me if writing weren't involved.

I've started the series called 'Gwynriel and Her Highness Taylor Swift' on AO3, which will follow our favorite couple in AU fics with a sprinkling of T. Swift. You can read the first one, 'You Belong with Me', here.

And now I present the next installment:

Safe and Sound

Read on AO3

TW: Brief mention of past sexual assault and violence - no details, just that it happened

Gwyn's nightmares rear their ugly heads and Azriel is there to comfort her. She tells him about what happened the night her sister died and he finally understands the shadows he sees behind her happy eyes. She's afraid it might ruin their relationship only hours after it's begun, but he's there to prove her wrong - with the help of a little T. Swift lullaby.

The night was shattered by a blood-curdling scream.

Azriel’s eyes flew open and he sat up, frantically searching in the dark. It took a few moments for the fog of sleep to burn away from his brain. He was at the cabin. For vacation. He’d come a day early to make sure everything was on the up-and-up. With Gwyn. They were a couple. Officially. The first few hours had been absolutely ordinary and wonderful.

“Stop! Please stop!”

Gwyn. Fuck, it was Gwyn!

He was out of bed and out the door in a second, sprinting down the hall. “Gwyn!” he called as he reached the closed door, but the screaming, the crying – it didn’t stop. Not giving himself time to overthink he turned the knob and pushed the door open wide. The room was bathed in the faintest glow of moonlight, allowing him to see the flailing form on the bed, tangled in sheets and begging the demons that were in her dreams.

When he reached the side of the bed his heart may have cracked open. Her forehead glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, her eyes were screwed tight, and her cheeks shimmered with tears.

“No. No, no, no,” she cried through clenched teeth, and Azriel decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t know what to do, but he needed to help her, to draw her away from whatever was tormenting her. He reached through her flying arms and cupped her cheeks between his hands.

“Gwyn. Wake up!” he called to her, willing her to wake. “Gwyn, please, it’s a nightmare. You’re safe, sweetheart.” Her eyes shot open, teal pools swimming with fear and confusion. Her limbs had stopped writhing, but God he could feel her shaking.

“Azriel?” she whispered weakly.

“Yes, Gwyn. It’s me. Don’t be scared.” He let his thumbs brush over her cheeks, wiping away tears that still fell freely over her freckled cheeks. “Talk to me, sweetheart. What can I do?”

She stared at him, chest heaving with deep ragged breaths, as if contemplating what to do. Azriel could understand. This was a vulnerable moment, and even though they’d been close friends for a couple years this was new territory. He had never heard her have a nightmare, and it wrenched into his gut like a knife. The feeling of uncertainty, of not knowing how to help her, only served to prove how deeply he cared about her. Their relationship was only hours old, but that was only because he’d been a coward and not because he hadn’t wanted to be with her - hadn't been falling for her already.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She sighed and closed her eyes. “Not really. But we probably should.”

When new tears started leaking out from under her thick lashes he released her cheeks and stepped a knee onto the mattress. Scooping her up he leaned against the headboard and folded his legs in front of him, tucking the fiery crown of copper hair beneath his chin. He gave her time, content to trace fingers lightly over the thin t-shirt covering her back.

“Az, I… there’s something you should know. Something you should’ve known before you decided you wanted to be in a relationship with me.”

His brows furrowed. “You think it would change my mind?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, voice barely even a whisper. The silence stretched again. He couldn’t imagine what bombshell she thought might doom this before it even began. “How much do you know about the night my sister died?”

Azriel’s hand stilled on her back. This was not the direction he’d expected the conversation to go. But he shouldn’t be too surprised – it was indeed a nightmare-inducing event.

“Not too much. Just that she was killed in your apartment,” he answered, resuming the soothing stroke of his hands up and down her spine. “Nesta said there was more, but that it was your story to tell.”

“I guess it’s your lucky night,” she shrugged in his arms and let out a bitter wet laugh. Azriel just gave her an encouraging squeeze and leaned his cheek into her silky hair.

“Catrin was murdered by her ex-boyfriend. He was abusive, possessive, controlling. He couldn’t handle it when she broke it off with him. And he hated me. He thought that their breakup was my fault. That night he broke into the apartment with a gun and shot Catrin in the head. Killed her instantly. But… he waited there.” Gwyn took a shaky breath. “He waited in the apartment. For me.”

Azriel drew back from her, dread coiling his muscles in grim anticipation. She looked up at him, eyes dull with resignation. He had never seen her wear that expression before – it made his insides feel oily and wrong. His hand remained at her back, and he was determined to keep that calming presence there for her. Trailing his gaze down from her face, over her shoulders, and down her arms, he found her fingers fidgeting in her lap. He took his free hand and covered her delicate fingers, his palm large enough to envelop both of her speckled hands. He lifted his eyes to meet her teal pools again, lifting the corners of his mouth in a soft smile and squeezing gently with his fingers.

He was there for her. Whatever she needed he would give it.

Gwyn’s lashes lowered, breaking her hold on him. He blinked and tried to control his breathing, remaining dedicated to being fully invested in the woman in his arms. The woman who was baring her soul to him.

“He…” she gulped a breath and moved her fingers so they were grasping his hand instead of the other way around. She clung to it, grip like a vice as she mustered her courage. “He raped me. He told me I took her away from him, so he took her away from me. And that I would never, ever forget him.”

There was no air left in the room, Azriel was certain. His lungs wouldn’t work, his mouth was full of sand, his fingers tingling with vengeful need. All he could hear was Gwyn’s tearful, labored panting and echoes of the terror-filled screams that had ripped him from sleep.

“Christ, Gwyn,” he gritted out. The hand on her back lifted to cup her head and pull her to him. “I’m so sorry.” Jesus fucking Christ, no wonder she got nervous in large crowds and around people she didn’t know. No wonder she didn’t feel safe out in the world. The cruelty she had experienced, the evil she had been forced to endure – it was unimaginable. And somehow she still found the strength to smile and laugh and be a pure ray of sunshine to the people around her.

“Obviously the nightmares are one thing, but… but you should know I haven’t done anything with anyone since that night. Not until you kissed me.”

Azriel hissed a curse, grasping her shoulders and pushing her back so he could see her face. “Did I frighten you when I did that?” he asked desperately. If he’d only known, he would have approached that differently. He felt cool hands on his cheeks, breaking him from his panicked reverie.

“No, Az. Not at all.” His heart calmed, and then nearly stopped as she smiled sweetly. “I should have found it terrifying. Honestly, had it been anyone else I probably would have. But, with you it was… amazing. Like magic.”

He couldn’t contain the toothy grin that blossomed when she said that. Like magic. He had felt it, too, but he just figured the magic part was her. He slid his hands from her shoulders to cup her jaw and leaned in to brush his lips across her brow.

“So we need to talk about what makes you feel uncomfortable. So I can make sure you feel safe with me.” Azriel let a thumb slide over the freckles painting her cheek. “Thank you for trusting me with this, Gwyn. I couldn’t forgive myself if I triggered something – if I hurt you.”

Gwyn tilted her head and looked at him curiously, blue-green pools shining with something he couldn’t quite identify. “So…” she began, then trailed off and lowered her gaze. He felt her throat work under his fingers as she looked back to him. “So it doesn’t bother you?”

He regarded her carefully. “What do you mean?” Of course it bothered him. She’d been hurt, and she was still reliving that pain. He wanted to take it away, to make sure she never felt that way again. And he wanted to kill the bastard that had dared to lay a hand on her.

“That you have to be so careful with me,” she answered quietly before lowering those thick lashes and turning her chin away from him. He still had his hands on her jaw, but he let her move as she wished. “And that… that I don’t know what I’ll be able to do, in terms of intimacy. At least at this point- “

“Gwyneth Berdara.” Azriel gently turned her chin back to him. “I wouldn’t give a flying fuck if you wouldn’t do more than hold my hand. I care about you, not sex. Now, what do you like? What should I avoid?” Gwyn wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled herself back into his chest.

“I like this,” she sighed. He wrapped his arms back around her and went back to rubbing his hands over her back. “I think I’m probably okay with most things along the lines of hugs and kisses. As long as it’s not a surprise.”

He chuckled at that. “So no sneaking up and grabbing you from behind?” He pressed a kiss into her hair.

“I like that, too. The kisses.” Her voice was muffled against his chest, and she giggled when he kissed her crown again. “And absolutely no grabbing me from behind,” she confirmed.

“And for anything more, we go at your pace. Whatever you want to try, whenever you want more, you need only ask.” Silence lengthened between them, the night filled with only calm breathing and the gentle scratch of fingers over cotton.

“Do you have nightmares often? I…” Azriel paused, the heaviness of shame creeping into his chest. They were good friends, spent a lot of time together. How did he not know that this was a struggle she faced? “I don’t remember ever hearing anything before.”

“It’s not that bad anymore. But when I’m somewhere unfamiliar sometimes the anxiety triggers them,” Gwyn answered, her fingers fidgeting into the hair at his nape. “I… part of the reason I said I would come early with you was to see what would happen. And if it was a problem, I could go home without anyone being the wiser. I had already checked with Nesta to make sure you could ride back with her and Cassian.”

The softness of her voice – laced with embarrassment – cut into him. “Berdara,” he practically growled. He grasped her shoulders and pushed back so he could look her in the eye. “You were going to leave? Why?” He knew the reason. She’d said it only hours earlier. I don’t want to take away from anyone’s fun.

“Az,” she started, averting her gaze. “The prospect of waking up all of my friends in the middle of the night, screaming and begging, is legitimately mortifying.” He moved his hand to cup her cheek, even though she still wouldn’t look up at him.

“Gwyn, do you think any of us would have a problem with it? That we would judge you?” Even if they all didn’t know the depth of her trauma, she was not the only one with demons that attacked in the night. The answering murmur was almost too quiet to hear, but the words rang loud in his ears.

“I don’t want to cause a scene.”

Azriel thought over the last day. The road trip, the realizations. The determination that had filled him after he watched her dance behind the steering wheel, eyes glittering with mischief. The relief that coursed through his veins, the sunshine that had warmed his soul when she said she’d wanted him to kiss her for awhile, too. The soft smiles, her giggles, the comfort they seemed to share. All the while, beneath the surface, demons and nightmares and fear and pain. How was it that she could be so strong, so resilient? The smiles Gwyn gave to their friends, to him, were genuine and bright. Her laughter was always musical and lively, without even an echo of sorrow.

The shadows behind her eyes had come for her tonight. And she had planned to go home, with whatever weak excuse, and fight them alone.

Not fucking happening.

He cupped her other cheek and pulled her jaw up, that same determination from the previous day emboldening him. “Look at me, Gwyn.” He could feel the heat in her cheeks on his palms, and when her eyelashes lifted he was met with shallow pools darkened with uncertainty, shining with wetness. “You’re not going anywhere, okay? You’re going to stay here and enjoy your vacation because, like I said before, it’s not as much fun without you around.” He bore his gaze into her with an intensity he was unaccustomed to possessing. She sniffled in response, which only melted his heart further, and blinked a few times – clearly trying to keep tears in check as she managed a nod.

“You’re a part of this family, Gwyn. We support each other. We love each other. If anyone else were here tonight instead of me, they would have run here just as quickly as I did. And if it happens again tomorrow night, you’ll probably have the whole gaggle trying to squeeze through the door all at once.” A few stray tears fell from her eyes as a giggle escaped her. Azriel leaned in, capturing each tear between his lips and her cheeks. “You don’t have to deal with this alone. Let us be here for you. Let me.”

At that, the dam broke. Gwyn reached for him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his neck. He could feel the warm wetness of her tears on his skin, feel her body shake violently against him. Winding his arms around her back, he rocked them back and forth and whispered into her hair.

It’s okay.

I’m here.

You’re not alone.

He started to hum as her sobs began to quiet, still rocking with her in his embrace. He smiled softly to himself. He wouldn’t know this song if it weren’t for her. He didn’t share his voice with many people, but Gwyn had heard it many times. He broke into soft lyrics as the redhead continued to calm in his arms.

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down

You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now

Come morning light you and I’ll be safe and sound

“Are you…” Gwyn’s thick voice was muffled in his neck. “Are you singing me Taylor Swift?”

Azriel chuckled. “I’ll deny it to everyone we know.” Her head tilted back, and the laugh that lifted into the air was one of the loveliest things he’d ever heard. A pealing bell of joy. She brought her gaze back to him and pulled on his neck to lean his forehead against hers. “I may or may not have come to appreciate the creative works of Taylor Swift. You’ve worn me down, Berdara.” He kept his arms around her back, even as her had moved over his cheek. Her teal stare was alight with emotion, the brightness reflected in a small – but radiant – smile.

“Thank you, Az,” she whispered before pressing her lips so softly to his. When she pulled back, he mirrored her grin.

“I don’t know much about being a good boyfriend,” he offered with a shrug, “but I feel like supporting your girlfriend’s potentially dubious music tastes and comforting her after nightmares are minimum standards. Standards that I hope to far exceed.”

“Well, I know it’s been less than a day – and I don’t really have much to compare you to – but I think you’re doing great.” Gwyn tapped a finger to his nose, and his eyes crinkled. Azriel lifted his chin and brushed his lips over her brow.

“That’s good. I have a number for you to call if you have any complaints.” He shifted slightly when his girlfriend yawned. “You think you can go back to sleep?”

“I dunno,” she murmured.

“Is there anything that has helped? In the past? Helped you get back to sleep?” Azriel absentmindedly rubbed a few strands of copper hair between his fingers. Gwyn gave a wry smile, but it faded quickly. “What?”

“Nesta would cuddle with me, when we lived together. She would hold onto me… it was like she would anchor me back to reality. To safety,” her voice was wistful, eyes distant. “But I couldn’t ask you to –“

“Do you want me to stay with you, Gwyn?” He traced a thumb in circles over her back. “If you’re comfortable with that, I will. Gladly. If you think it will help.” Azriel could only imagine that his own demons might also be subdued with her by his side.

Gwyn pushed away from him gently and he helped her move out of his lap. He watched her settle back onto the mattress, laying on her side facing him and pulling the blanked up toward her. She kept it lifted and lifted her eyes to him. His mouth curled up and he shimmied easily under the blanket to settle beside her.

“You tell me, Gwyn,” he whispered. Azriel didn’t want to presume how she would want him, instead seeking her guidance.

“Ummm… maybe stay on your back?” she replied. He put his hands behind his head and leaned back into the pillow, letting her move to where she wanted to be.

Gwyn sidled over to him and tentatively leaned up to place her head on his chest, tucking her hand under her chin. She wiggled a little bit, burrowing into her position.

“Comfy?” Azriel chuckled, receiving a contented ‘hmmm’ in return. He kept the arm closest to her tucked under his head, but he brought his other hand across him and grabbed the hand at her chin, weaving their fingers together. He brought their hands to his lips, pressing her knuckles against them. “No more fears, Berdara. I’m here. You’re safe.” He settled their joined hands over his abdomen, already feeling her heavy against him. Azriel stared into the dark, a warm blanket of contentment and strength settling over him. He had nightmares, too, things he also kept from nearly everyone. He would share those things with Gwyn, show her that she was not the only one with demons that attacked in dreams and that neither of them were alone. He had never felt so confident in the potential of a relationship, in the potential that he would be understood and accepted and loved. He already knew he would give those things to her - and more. With that newfound confidence he closed his eyes, her steady breathing lulling him to join her in peaceful, painless sleep.

#gwynriel fanfiction #gwynrielweek #gwynriel supremacy #gwynriel fanfic #gwynriel

92 notes · View notes

bakujho · 3 years

Text

Another rant about some Shady Eels

So, back again to talk about the shady eels though this time focusing on how with the information we’ve been given we can pretty well confirm the Leech family are mafia. We’ve gotten a few solid gems of information the last little while, pretty well confirming what we always figured. Octavinelle has got that mafia theme, so everyone expected some shadiness, but the info we’ve been fed about the Leech parents really brings home that it’s not just the dorm theme, and that the twins and Azul aren’t just “cosplaying as mafia baddies for aesthetic”.

So what exactly do we KNOW?

The twins were taught self defense by their parents from a young age. (Jade voice lines)

When they were children their parents ‘associates’ would buy them luxury or rare birthday gifts...then were made to sign waivers saying that the gift had no ulterior motives and wouldn’t constitute a favour in return. (Jade birthday)

Their father has told them that appearances on land are important, and to pay close attention to the little details. (When Idia asks for further clarification, he cuts Floyd off before he goes further saying that any further and he feels like he’d be “ensnared by darkness”) (Floyd dance and wishes wish)

There were many parties back in the Leech household, but they were more formal in nature. (floyd birthday)

Eels have a “tough guy” image in the sea, and them being carnivores doesn’t help. (floyd birthday)

Mama leech worries about her babies and contacts them often (jade birthday)

That they have a family run business, that has contacts with a LOT of kinds of different people. Jade tells us it’s VERY normal. (jade birthday)

Leech parents have spoiled their kids before, so they’re likely fairly well off. (floyd birthday)

Floyd seems to have a bit of a sore spot regarding humans (floyd robes)

So obviously, without 100% confirmation, it’s impossible to say MAFIA LEECH ARE CANON, but with everything we’ve been given I’m pretty confident in saying it’s damn likely. That’s not even the fun part, cause it’s so surface level obvious considering Octavinelles theme, I decided to jump into it more. @chillableu had posted a comment in a shared discord that really got my brain whirring about WHY the mafia fam is maybe a bigger thing than just aesthetic, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. Headcanon accepted, chilla. I thank you. (I took out your name in case you didn’t want anyone on discord to find you by it)

I’ll put the rest of this under a cut since it’s really just me theorizing and head canoning a whole ton of shit about the Leech fam based on humans treating fish as lesser beings incapable of the same level of emotions and intelligence as themselves, adding in bits from other media that has mermaids, mythology, and a touch of the history of the mafia.

Not even really sure where to start with this, but here we go. So, What if the Leech fam (be it great grandpa/grandma leech or current Leeches) started the mafia as a way to protect themselves due to the mistreatment of merfolk that were more “monster” like than the regular human kind mermaids we’ve only seen up until now. Its reported that the original Sicilian mafia started as a way for certain families that were facing persecution from the rest of the towns that eventually spiraled into the crime syndicates we all know from various media today. Outside of the twins and Azul, all the other merfolk that have been shown in game have been the “fully human on top, fish bottom” type, and with Azul being bullied because we was a rare 8 legged mermaid, and the magicamonsters from the Halloween event seeing merfloyd and remarking how RARE it was to see one, so I’m thinking that maybe the Leech fam started as a way to protect themselves, since if carnivorous merfolk are seen as more brutish, they may have seen a lot of discrimination from other merfolk and humans alike.

It’s no secret that Toboso has been covering a lot of heavy topics dressed up in Disney clothes, and has already addressed discrimination and fetishization with the scarabia, savanaclaw, and more recently Diasomnia boys (well, mostly Malleus in the halloween event being treated like an object). So what I’m thinking is that there’s an underlying problem in the twstverse, where non-humans are treated badly, and non-humans with monster features even more so. So the leech fam bands together with whatever other monster like merfolk families there are and create their own little area in the coral sea, and eventually expand out into other types of business until they’re in a comfortable enough position to not really worry about any backlash anymore. Floyd has shown some distaste before about being ordered around by humans, which could be an ingrained quality from his parents, or he himself may have experienced some form of mistreatment at the hands of humans before. If the leech fam has a lot of ‘associates’ I think it’s safe to say that they weren’t the only ones feeling abandoned by the normal merfolk and humans .

In Japanese folklore there are creatures called Ningyo (basically human fish), which were both feared as creatures that would bring calamity and misfortune, and prized as their flesh was supposed to be sweet tasting and grant near immortality if eaten. Mermaids in a lot of more modern media are also more nuanced than the “beautiful fish that sailors fall in love with”. Even in One Piece, there’s the mermaids that are captured and sold off to the rich as prize objects to collect and display, and the Fishmen, which are the strong brutes that are ostracised by nearly everyone in series for them simply being fish. If Toboso wanted to touch on the mythology in TWST it would make sense that the more monster-like mermaids have created their own sub-society separate from the regular merfolk. During the Halloween event, the children seem to be pretty scared by Floyd because he’s huge, so what if that’s nothing new for him and why he’s so good with kids? Cause as a mermaid they’re used to people being openly scared of them without any good reason outside of their appearance. I also suspect that Floyd and Jade have a few more siblings, since in one of Floyds home screen lines he says that he’s not the youngest nor the oldest, and tbh, eels lay thousands of eggs, so it wouldn’t be surprising that he knew how to deal with the kid without any struggle.

What if, when the eels are first hatched they’re a lot smaller than they were and like in the original article that started all of this, humans were needlessly cruel to them and many of them died out of sheer neglect, or that humans just didn’t think merfolk as capable as having acute emotions and saw them as lowly fish rather than sentient beings. We saw with the Magicamonsters that there’s a complete disregard for the feelings of Malleus when they made it a challenge to touch his horns and get a picture, so I imagine that has to extend to merfolk as well when they’re actually seen. That same mindset could have extended to the regular mermaids as well, which is why mermaids like Azul were so tormented for being different, even though they’re all fucking mermaids at the end of the day. So bringing this back to the Leech fam, they decided that they weren’t going to stand for the same level of discrimination from humans and other merfolk alike and began building their own empire. They have contacts in the sea that extend to those on land (otherwise how would the twins get the rare land items for their birthdays), and have an extensive network of associates, with the added bonus of brilliant mermaid twins, one of which is incredibly cunning, the other quick to violence and both of them raised to defend themselves should the need arise.

So basically, I’m fully on the “Mafia Leech Fam is canon for real” train and at this point it’s going to be very hard to change my mind. I feel like there were a few more things I wanted to touch on with this but they’ve poofed themselves into the depths of my mind somewhere, so I may have to come back to them later. If you have anything to add, please let me know cause brain rotting about the Leech fam is honestly one of my favourite past times right now.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst analysis #floyd leech #jade leech #twisute #twisted wonderland analysis #octavinelle #leech family #azul ashengrotto

750 notes · View notes

secret-engima · 3 years

Note

So who does Nyxsuke adopt first - Naruto or Tenzo? (and when does Nyxsuke officially meet Tenzo, because I'm dying for actual bonding between the two, and for Nyx to teach Tenzo the Sacred Laws and the Color Code and everything. Also, what's Tsunade and Sasuke's reactions to each other? Actually, how DOES Nyx meet the last of the Sannin, because I'm assuming he's not dumb enough to just charge at Itachi after the asskicking he got from Orochimaru. So he might be there WITH Naruto and Jiraiya.)

a-world-in-grey asked:

Also, I don't know if you mentioned it already, but what braids do the reincarnated Galahdians wear? I imagine all of them probably wear the Chief braids of their Clans, since they're the only ones at first, but especially Nyx and Lib after they start adopting. But do any of them wear a Braid of the Last? Does Tredd wear a Revenge Braid like Nyx (probably) does? Does Lib braid a Hero Braid into Nyx's hair after he learns how Nyx died summoning the Old Wall and killing Titus? Any Mourning Braids?

a-world-in-grey asked:

Aka, Tenzo meets Sola when he and his ANBU squad bring her the offer to defect to Konoha, and I need to know what I've got to work with, because the *potential*... >:3

Me:

Nyxsuke actually adopts Tenzo first! That's gonna happen in like- chapter 8 or 9 I think. Well before canon. That surprised me ngl, because Naruto desperately needs adopting, but for some reason Nyx was like. No. This is my feral mask tree man and Imma adopt him first. So.

Nyxsuke I don't *think* will officially actually "meet" Tenzo (as in, get his name and see him without the mask) until- gosh at least Naruto canon? Possibly in the time between Naruto and Naruto Shippuuden? But that doesn't mean Tenzo isn't family long before then. He teaches Nyxsuke sign language (and anbu hand sign shhhhh) so that they can talk without breaking the anbu silence rule, and Nyxsuke still imprints Sacred Laws and Color Code onto him through a mix of osmosis and talking?

Nyxsuke is at first, uh.

Not impressed.

With Tsunade

Tbf he's not impressed with MOST of the adults and he basically had her on his "don't like or trust" list the moment he was informed she was an old teammate and friend of Jiraiya, who Nyxsuke hates almost as much as he hates the Third.

Tsunade at first writes him off as an arrogant, spoiled Last Uchiha, because most adults do and also Tsunade can be an idiot sometimes (who the heck finger flicks a child to the point of sending him skidding several yards. Tsunade flipping Senju that's who), but does realize ... fairly rapidly? That she badly underestimated both him and Naruto. After initial first impressions Nyxsuke is grudgingly respectful, only because she's a better leader than the Third and Naruto likes her for some wild reason. He doesn't see her as a Clan Chief in any sense of the word, but she's better than some Crownsguard officers he's met and she doesn't seem to be on board with the "abandon children in their compounds all alone" thing once she hears about it. So he will treat her cordially and follow her orders so long as they don't conflict with taking care of his Clan.

They meet at the same time Tsunade meets Naruto actually! Nysuke ends up inserting himself on that quest for various reasons that I will not spoil (one of them however is "I do not trust this frog man as far as I can throw Titan himself") and so he's there when Jiraiya is like- we're checking in all the bars for our *future leader*.

Nyxsuke: *Already fully ready to verbally shred this individual and all their life choices*

The Bet thing that goes down is probably gonna include Nyxsuke somehow, but I haven't entirely nailed it down yet and also don't wanna spoil that. So.

You know, I don't think I actually sat down and worked out what braids they all have? Nyx and Lib absolutely have Chief Braids, Crowe probably just has a Clan braid? That she upgrades to Chief once she's adopted someone (Lib has already adopted his mom). Nyx 100% has a braid of the Last and iirc a braid of mourning and another of revenge? Or a combo one for those two. I forget if I ever said in fic. But that would make sense. Lib, since he adopted his mom, doesn't need to wear a Last braid. Crowe probably has one.

Tredd wears a braid of revenge over Kisame yes, and all three have Braids of the Last on top of their Clan braids.

Honestly? Lib probably *does* insist on putting a Hero Braid in there, but that might end up not happening until they've also reunited with Crowe and/or Pelna, since Nyx insists you need more than one person's approval to put one of those in. They hear Lib's story about what followed after the fall of Insomnia, and what Lib learned about how Nyx died, and are just: *Shut up and accept the braid Nyx*

*excited noises* I WOULD LOVE TO SEE TENZO MEETING SOLA. REEEEEEE. I hope my answers helped!

#SE asks #a-world-in-grey asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Calling for Rain verse

50 notes · View notes

dramaqueeenamby · 3 years

Text

Waves: Quarantine

A/N: It's been way too long since I've done something for the Wavesverse, and I apologize deeply. I have a few requests related to this series to complete, but I couldn't knock this idea.

Words: 4K

Warnings: None

Tags: @babe-im-bi @notacamelthatsmywife @missyperle @queenoftheworldisdead @tashawar @valkryienymph @letsshamelessqueen-m @hello-therree @mani-lifes @liquorlaughslove @toni9 @koko-michelle @theequeenofcurses @taylortheeshowpony

Waves

Summer placed her phone inside of the mount and made sure that it was secured before she sat back in her bed, getting comfortable with the mass of pillows supporting her back, and smiling tentatively. “Hi, guys.”

Summer!

Someone tell me this isn’t a joke???? Please???

She lives!

Sis, blink twice if you need help.

Summer rolled her eyes. “Ya’ll better stop. I know it’s been a minute since I’ve hopped on live, but it hasn’t been that damn long.”

Summer continued to read the comments where more than a few people pointed out she hadn’t gone live on Instagram in over three months. Her mouth dropped. “Ya’ll lying. It has not been almost six months, has it?” She placed her hand over her mouth when people started dropping dates in the comments. “Okay, I stand corrected. Damn, I’m sorry, guys.”

Don’t be sorry, bestie. Do better!

Damn, ya’ll are so entitled. Celebrities have lives too.

What life? We all been in quarantine.

Rich people quarantine be different from us poor folks, I guess.

“So that’s actually one of the things I wanted to talk about.” Summer cleared her throat. “And I’m going to try really hard to make sure I word what I want to say as clear and as effective as I can, but I know this is still going to end up as a salacious headline. So, it is what it is.”

Oooh, Summer about to drop some tea.

I don’t see her wedding ring, ya’ll…..

I’m scared omg.

Watch this be nothing but a role announcement.

She shrugged and took a deep breath. “Okay, so a few days ago, I did the Buss It challenge, after being harassed by Sanda. And can I just say that filming was a challenge in and of itself? Not necessarily the movements but preparing? I’ve got two kids, twins, who are like the Tasmanian devil. I was literally up at 3 something in the morning trying to record it because my wild children won’t let me be great.” She chuckled. “Kids are something else.”

Summer truly jumped through hoops and was a damn near acrobat trying to figure out when she could not only get herself done up but actually record the challenge. Being the perfectionist that she was didn’t help, but the fact that she couldn’t recall the last time she’d put on makeup and dressed up was a whole other fiasco.

Quarantine definitely brought out her bum side.

“All of that aside, I truly was satisfied and happy with the final product when I posted it. In hindsight, I should have just left it that, but I wake up every day and choose chaos, so I decided to read the comments.” She blew out a breath. “One of the most frequent comments and really, insults, I’ve received my whole career. Primarily, since I was cast as Storm, revolves around how I look. I.e., my weight. I’ve been called fat, obese, out of shape, and so many other things.”

It was 100% true. The minute Marvel announced that she’d been chosen to play Storm, the racists came all out of the woodworks. She was too short, too chubby, too dark, too black. And Summer didn’t care, not a bit.

“Even,—and I’ll tell you guys this, when I first started my SS training, that’s what I call it, SS for Storm Shape, there was a—person who worked for Marvel at the time who came to visit me while I was training.” She smiled thinking back on that day. She could still recall it so clearly. “He basically was pissed because to him, I still looked the same, fat and out of shape.” She adjusted her top and shifted in her bed. “That same day, I deadlifted and bench-pressed over 200lbs” She paused for effect. “What I need for people to stop doing is stop fucking projecting—and I’m going to cuss in this, so if you don’t like it, oh well. I work for Disney, but I’m a grown ass woman, and I’m going to say what I want.”

I am screaming. Summer said we getting alll the tea today!

So, it’s wrong to point out that someone is physically unhealthy now, cool?

The problem is that no one wants to see a fat superhero. It’s not realistic.

^^^^ Tell me you have a small dick without actually telling me you have a small dick.

“I saw Lizzo, whom I adore, post a Tik Tok where she basically said that she workouts to have the body she wants not what ya’ll want, and honestly? Same. She said that her body type is no one’s fucking business, and that’s so true. Ya’ll love to hop on this internet and pick apart people you don’t even know and criticize bodies you don’t even have to live in and move around with. And for what?” She shook her head, slamming her fist into her open palm as she spoke. She was fully invested now. “I know we in quarantine, but damn, pick another hobby cause being a bully is not it, sweetie.”

I really needed to hear this today.

Using Lizzo as a point of reference makes everything you’re saying null and void. Lizzo is clearly overweight and at risk for diabetes, heart disease, just to name a few…..

I been saying this! You can’t look at a person and say they’re unhealthy.

Bodies come in so many forms, and all are beautiful.

“Now, I bring all this up because a lot of people were commenting on my Buss It challenge and pointing out the fact that I’ve gained weight, and guess fucking what? I have, and you know what else?” She leaned over to whisper while covering her mouth with her hands for focused effect. “I don’t care.”

Summer laughed and shook her head. “As others have pointed out as well, yes, we have a gym in our house. I 1000% acknowledge the fact that having the resources that I do as a celebrity and someone who has money puts me in a different category. Hell, my husband has a whole fitness app. I recognize that. If I wanted to keep up with my workouts, emphasis on wanted, I could have. I own up to that, but I just didn’t feel like it, and that’s okay. What’s not okay is to send and leave mean messages calling me all kinds of names.”

Summer had thick skin. She always had. Growing up with her family, who always ensured to feed her self esteem and make sure she knew that she was beautiful, definitely paid off. It was just a combination of quarantine and not having a lot of opportunities to keep herself busy with work that had her feeling some type of way.

“And that’s something else I wanted to bring up.” She blew out another breath and tried to gather her emotions. This was the subject she was almost certain she’d grow teary eyed discussing. “I love my husband to death. My children are everything. Christopher’s family is like my own, but— I haven’t seen my family, like my mom, grandma, brothers, etc in almost a year.” She paused, dwelling on that. Almost an entire year since she’d been able to physically hug and interact with the people who made her who she was. “And I’ve always made it clear how much I fucking love my family. I live in Australia. I can’t do a drive by with grandma so I and my kids can at least see her on the doorstep.” She quieted again, eyes darting off as she quietly cursed. “I’m trying really hard not to cry right now.”

Please don’t cry, bestie.

This is the side of quarantine that people don’t talk about enough.

Has this woman never heard of FaceTime????

I feel her pain. I live in Europe, and my family is in the states. This quarantine has been brutal.

My grandma died from COVID, and I couldn’t even go to the funeral. Summer is bringing up a good point.

“Damn,” Summer chuckled bitterly and wiped at the tears that fell. “I’m okay, I promise. I just bring this up because quarantine has also been very hard for me in that aspect. At certain points, I’ve been down, I’ve been in my head a lot, and I just was not, for the most part, in a space where I felt like I had to keep up my fitness regimen. And that’s okay. I put my mental wellbeing ahead of making sure my body is socially acceptable. Sue me.”

I really appreciate her honesty.

Summer never goes beyond surface level in interviews, so seeing her this vulnerable is really surprising.

Are we supposed to feel bad for her? She’s rich. She can afford whatever help she needed.

These comments are not passing the vibe check.

Ya’ll are all mental health advocates, but when a black woman is opening up about her struggle, it’s discarded?

“And let me make this clear too, I have an amazing husband who is so patient and so kind. He’s one of the best people I can go to when my anxiety hits, so I don’t want this to come across as me complaining that I’ve been alone. I have him and our children. I just miss the rest of my family. That’s all.” She dried her eyes and started to read the comments, unsurprised by the mixed reaction. She expected as such and was unaffected. At least until she saw one comment.

@ChrisEvans: ❤️❤️❤️

“Evans!” Summer wasn’t expecting to see his name pop up. It’d been such a task convincing him to join IG, let alone teaching him how to operate it. “Let’s go live.”

Not my husband and wife in my head about to go live!!!!

Imagine being able to call Chris Evans your best friend

I still say they smashed idc

It’s Christopher Jamal Evans hopping on this live for me.

^^^ I’m so sick of y’all with that shit.

“Let me try to add him,” Summer spoke to herself, scrolling through the comments to find his so she could request him. “Alright, I requested him. Let’s see if he answers.”

She wondered if she should have sent him a text asking if he was available when he appeared on her screen, effectively splitting it with her on the top and him on the bottom.

“Punk.”

“Kid.”

Summer smiled and greeted, “Hi, best friend.”

He chuckled. “How you doing, Summer?”

“Clearly not as good as the people watching,” she chimed. Summer saw nothing but heart eyes and hearts in the comments. “These people really love you. You truly are a manipulative bastard. He’s an asshole, guys.”

“Don’t be jealous, Summer. It’s so unbecoming of you.”

“You can go to hell.”

“Language,” he playfully reprimanded. “Where are the kids?”

“At preschool. Things are finally starting to open back up over here. Thank God.” She clasped her hands together. “Y’all, please wear masks. Don’t be Karen’s.”

Chris laughed, grabbing his chest. “We’re getting there, Summer.”

“The lies you tell,” she countered. “Don’t A Starting Point, me. Ya’ll are far from getting there, and I’m tired of it. I wanna see my family.”

He sighed. “I know, but how are you feeling today?”

“I got rid of the kids, so that’s definitely a weight lifted,” she answered honestly, laughing when she saw judgmental comments in the chat. “Listen, if you’re a parent, you know where I’m coming from. You love your kids, but my god, sometimes you just need some space.”

“As soon as this all blows over, I told you to send em’ by me for a couple of weeks.”

“Best friend, I already purchased their tickets.” He laughed. “As soon as I get the green light, they are all yours. Feel free to keep them.”

“You guys see how she is?” He pointed to Summer, leaning and squinting to read what was being said. “I do love kids, especially the twins, they’re amazing.”

“He is really really great with them, guys,” Summer added. “One thing about Evans, he’s patient as hell and really, just a big kid. Why do you think him and Christopher get along so well? 40 going on 4.”

“I resent that.”

“Is it a lie though?”

He hesitated. “No.” They both laughed.

I’m loving the dynamic between these two so much.

Is it just me or are they flirting with each other…..

Ain’t nothing inappropriate about this conversation. Ya’ll are reaching…

Ya’ll remember that blind item that came out years ago alleging Chris (Evans) was the biological father of the twins? Hmm…..

^^^^^This kind of bullshit is the reason we’re in a global pandemic.

As always, Summer and Evans ignored any foolery that was being dropped in the comments when she caught a comment that didn’t contain some ridiculous rumor.

“Yes, it is true that Evans and Christopher weren’t allowed to do press together anymore. Ya’ll, they literally could not stay serious for more than a minute. I felt so bad for the poor interviewers.”

“Hey, we were not that bad,” Evans protested, his Boston accent more prominent.

She gasped. “You guys were terrible, Evans, and you know it. I was so mad when they put me with ya’ll those few times. I could barely hear the interviewers over your laughing and stupid commentary that literally no one asked for.”

“We did not.”

“There’s deadass video proof, Evans.”

“Fake news.”

She opened her mouth but caught herself. “I was about to say something.”

He laughed and asked, “Do you remember how we all got drunk before the Infinity War premiere?”

“No, ya’ll got drunk. I was big and pregnant, remember?”

“No,” he dismissed. “You were drinking with us.”

“Evans, how was I drinking when I was pregnant?” She challenged and reminded. “I got drunk with ya’ll for the Endgame premiere, not Infinity War.”

“That’s right,” he remembered and chuckled. “You think we’ll get in trouble for saying this?”

She shrugged with one shoulder. “You’re dead, Christopher never gets in trouble for anything, and I do what I want. I think we’re good.”

Kevin Feige watching this live right now like 🥴🥴🥴🥴

I never realized how arrogant she is……

LMAO. Not the whole cast showing up drunk to the biggest premiere of their lives.

Chris Evans is too damn fine to be approaching 40 and still single.

Their friendship is so goals omg

@ChrisHemsworth: Snitches

Summer’s jaw dropped as she caught the last comment, swiping up to click the name and make sure that she was reading correctly. “Christopher, what the hell are you doing on my live?”

Evans brows furrowed. “Hemmy is here? Shouldn’t he be working?”

“That’s what I want to know,” Summer supplied. “And how long have you been watching?”

@ChrisHemsworth: Long enough.

She smiled nervously and looked off to the side. “I feel weird now. I don’t like when he watches my lives.”

“Aren’t you guys married?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be shutting the fuck up?”

Evans lifted his hands in a defensive manner. “Touchy subject, I see.” They shared another laugh as he cleared his throat. “Why don’t you add him now? I’m supposed to be helping Scott cook.”

“My favorite Evans,” she gushed and furrowed her brows. “You, cooking? Since when?”

“Get out of here.” He waved her off and reminded. “I’m not the one who constantly causes near fires when in the kitchen.”

“So, you really just putting all my business out there like that?”

“Summer, it’s not secret to anyone that you can’t cook for shit.”

“Wow, it really be your own best friends.”

He chuckled. “Love you, kid.”

“Love you too, punk,” she blew a kiss. “I’ll text ya’ later.”

“Alright.” He smiled for the camera. “Thanks for having me everyone.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said jokingly. Evans and Summer said goodbye one last time before he left the live. She blew out a breath and ran her hand through her hair. “Baby, comment something so I can add you. It’s too many comments to wade through.”

Summer adjusted her phone and checked the time on the clock on the wall. It’d been a while since the kids were away at school, and she didn’t want to get so caught up that she was late picking them up.

@ChrisHemsworth: I can’t. I’m too drunk.

Summer released a mixture of a laugh and a snort reading his comment. “You are so damn petty.” She clicked his name and adjusted her outfit while waiting for him to answer. She almost cursed when it seemed like he wasn’t going to join, only for her to smile when his face appeared on her screen.

“Hi,” she greeted in a soft voice with a small smile.

“Hello, Sandcastle.”

“Did you just—I swear to god, it’s always something with you.” Summer rubbed her temples and shook her head. Christopher smiled in response. “Why aren’t you working?”

“I am.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

“If you’re working, how are you talking to me?” She asked, sassily.

“Umm, a little thing called multitasking, ever heard of it?”

“Wow. You are an asshole.”

“That’s mean.”

“You’re mean.”

“Christopher, you are literally a child.”

“Does a child have muscles like this?” He flexed, and Summer stilled. Christopher stayed in ridiculous shape, but this was another level. He’d never been this massive, and she wasn’t too proud to admit that. Just not aloud.

She faked a yawn. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

They really just be roasting each other all the time, and I’m here for it.

Summer must be legally blind because this man is stupid fine tf

It’s gotta be steroids. That’s not natural.

^^^^^He’s the god of thunder.

Summer rolled her eyes at the typical nature of the comments. These were the reasons she limited her time on social media and especially stayed away from reading the comments. Her attention was redirected to the top of her phone. It was a text from Christopher asking her to call him.

“But we’re—oh, I get it.” She realized he wanted to talk to her, not her and her tens of millions of followers. “Alright, guys, I’m gonna get off here so I can talk to my husband, alone.”

“She just doesn’t want to share me with you all, that’s all.”

“Don’t even start, Christopher,” she lectured while he laughed and got serious, for a minute tops.

“Hope you all are taking care and staying safe,” he spoke honestly. “And we’ll talk to you soon.”

Summer waved and smile. “Bye, guys. Remember to be kind.” Summer offered a final smile before ending the live. Closing up the app, she moved to open FaceTime and called up Christopher. He answered almost immediately. “You know I hate when you watch my Lives. Now, how much did you see?”

“Enough to know you’re coming to see me tonight.”

She laughed aloud. “Funny.”

“I’m serious, Summer.” Focusing on him, she realized that there was no humor in his voice nor his expression. Summer also noticed that he didn’t have the Thor wig on yet, which was probably why he was able to go live with her. He was waiting to get into hair and makeup. “Leave the kids with Liam. It’s not like he’s doing anything.”

“Christopher!”

“What? Is he not a professional unemployed bastard.”

Summer’s smile remained as she shook her head. “You are so mean.”

“I’ll handle the flight arrangements. You, my beautiful wife, just make sure you get on the jet so I can handle you.”

“Christopher, you’re working. People with everyday jobs don’t just up and show up to their spouses workplace because they miss them or need a break from the kids. That’s how folks get fired.”

Christopher started to move around, walking somewhere, she realized. “What are you doing?”

“Hey, Tike.”

Summer’s eyes widened slightly. “Christoper!”

“Sup, man?” Taika asked casually, as Summer laughed again. Taika Waititi was such a character.

“You mind if Summer comes up for a few days?”

“Sure, man,” he replied almost right away. “Bring the kids and chickens too.”

“I am not bringing those damn chickens,” she immediately protested.

Christopher made a sound. “Ha, so you are coming!”

“I didn’t say that.”

Taika joined Christopher so that he was in camera. “Hey, Summer, why don’t you come on join? You can have a cameo. Chickens, too.”

She rubbed her temples. Taika’s and Chris’s friendship would never not make sense to her. They were cut from the same cloth. “One, hey. Two, I was already in Ragnarok. I’m good on the cameos. Three, what is with ya’ll and those creepy looking chickens?”

“Whoa, creepy? What did the chickens ever do?”

“Exist,” Summer answered dryly. She still hadn’t forgiven Evans and Christopher for convincing her to let the kids keep those damn things. Her home was becoming more and more of a farm with each animal that joined the household.

“Tough crowd, that one, ehh?”

“Always,” Christopher agreed.

“I can hear you both,” she reminded and groaned loudly. Summer would love to spend a few days away from the kids. Chris would be working, yes, but she’d at least get some time for herself. Even better, alone adult time with her husband. That had also been a bit tricky during quarantine because of her rambunctious twins. Still, she disliked using her status as a celebrity to gain things, and this would definitely be a case of using status for pull. “I don’t know….”

Deep in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized that Chris had walked away and returned to wherever he was prior to finding Taika, most likely his trailer.

“What if you only stayed a night?” Chris tried to bargain. “The flight is only an hour and a half. That will give you more than enough time to come here, let me fix you dinner, run you a nice bath, maybe get in the good ole’ horizontal tango—”

“You know I hate when you call it that,” she reminded quietly, admitting. “That does sound nice, though.”

“Or, I can come to you—“

“Absolutely not. Christopher, you’re already doing so much back and forth as it is.” One of the good things to come out of quarantine, to Summer at least, was that it forced many people to take a much needed break. Her husband was one of those people. Christopher had been working nonstop since she met him. Project after project, film after film, many of them Marvel films, which put a whole other layer of difficulty what with the strenuous physical requirements. Even now as he shot Thor 4, he was in the best shape he’d ever been, muscles nearly tearing the cotton of his clothes. He looked amazing, but it was what they couldn’t see that she was starting to grow a little concerned over. Christopher wasn’t as young as he once was. He had to slow down, eventually.

Summer realized this would be a perfect chance to have a conversation about just that with him, which all but led her to her final decision.

“Alright,” she conceded, finger up as she made her demands. “Three days, and I stay at the house while you shoot. We may be returning to normal, but we’re still in a pandemic. I won’t go around anyone except you.”

“So I get you all to myself? Hardly consider that a stipulation.”

“And…we talk.”

“After the horizontal tango—“

“I swear to God, if you don’t stop calling it that—“

“What was that, sweetheart? I wasn’t listening.” She saw that he had paused the screen, causing Summer to remember that she hadn’t even consulted with the babysitter. “Making flight arrangements for you.”

“Shit, let me text Liam and make sure he’s available.”

“He gets reception in the box?”

“Christopher! For the last time, your brother is not living in a box.”

“Do you know that for certain?”

“Goodbye, Christopher,” she prepared to end the call before smiling softly. “I love you, Christopher, and thank you.”

He winked. “I’ll always do anything for you, Summer. Anything.” A beat. “Don’t forget to leave the clothes. You won’t need them.”

“Christopher!”

#chris hemsworth x black!oc #chris hemsworth x black!reader #chris hemsworth fanfic #chris hemsworth fandom #chris hemsworth fanfiction #fic: waves

60 notes · View notes

sineala · 3 years

Text

A Few Thoughts About Hurt/Comfort

I have been asked this month to make a post about hurt/comfort in Avengers comics. And I love h/c -- I actually have a massive number of WIPs right now that are h/c -- so I am very happy to talk about it! Anyway, this is not really all that planned out and this mostly turned into an excursus on Tony Stark's pain. I'm sure you're all surprised.

Like pretty much everyone else, I'm sure, I have found that everything lately has been... pretty tough. And the coping mechanism that really got me through last year and this year was reading and writing a lot of h/c, on the theory that, however lousy a day I'm having, I can absolutely make sure that Tony Stark has a worse one. And then I can make sure he gets hugs. Wish fulfillment? Why, yes. (Once at Hallmark I was trying to find a "get well soon" card, forgot what it was called, and described it to my wife as "a hurt/comfort card.") I think Marvel Comics -- the Avengers side, in particular -- is an interesting canon for h/c for a lot of reasons. Though, honestly, if you asked me to recommend you, a hurt/comfort fan, a new fandom, I would probably just hand you some Starsky & Hutch DVDs. Go watch "The Fix" and get back to me later. If you like that, there's way more where that came from. But there's still lots to love in Marvel! Superhero comics are really a goldmine as far as the hurt side of h/c. Because superheroes, and you probably have noticed this, get hurt a lot. They get hurt repeatedly, in fantastical ways that are probably impossible in real life both physically and emotionally (at least, I don't think anyone's invented mind control yet), and even the heroes without superhuman healing powers tend to get physically hurt a whole lot worse than actual people can take. Currently in Iron Man comics, Tony has a broken back and is dealing with this by locking himself into the armor as a backboard and injecting himself with massive doses of painkillers. He's busy! He's got stuff to do! He doesn't have time to lie around and heal! So, basically, if you name a kind of pain that you would like to see happen to a character, it's probably happened to superheroes. Multiple times. The downside, though, is that comics do not really deliver that well when it comes to the comfort part of h/c. They could. It's not inherent to the medium that they don't. But because of the serial nature of comics and also the fact the primary audience is dudes who want to read about people in spandex punching each other, a lot of the time they don't really feel the need to provide closure and write about people dealing with any of the hurt. (Raise your hand if you're still annoyed with the end of Hickman's Avengers run.) But at the same time, I think that's a quality that makes Avengers ripe for h/c fanfic. Because, generally speaking, fandom likes to provide the things that canon doesn't, and fandom is more than happy to provide the comfort. If you enjoy canonical h/c in comics, I think you really can't go wrong with Iron Man. One of the big innovations of modern Marvel Comics was the concept that heroes would also suffer from relatable human problems, and in practice what this means is that a lot of heroes start with a fully-loaded angst-ridden backstory and origin story, ripe for h/c. So Tony starts out by incurring a heart injury that he fully expects is going to kill him, which he responds to by vowing he won't get close to anyone so they won't be sad when he dies, and throughout the early Silver Age is constantly on the brink of death as his heart nearly gives out on him practically every issue. And then even after his heart gets (mostly) better, there are various plots involving his armor being detrimental to his health and him choosing to fight on anyway. It's hard for me to think of another superhero hitting that particular variety of h/c in exactly the same way. Sure, superheroes risk their lives constantly, because this is how superhero comics work, but Tony is the only one I can think of who is this constantly this badly off, physically. Like, think of all the other heroes who have had a continual solo presence as fan favorites across Marvel history -- Captain America, Thor, Spider-Man, Wolverine, maybe even Deadpool. You know what those guys all have? Healing factors! For the most part, they are not running around continually on the verge of death, and while there are certainly memorable arcs involving several of them being severely injured and/or dead, you really have to work at it. It's not their constant state of affairs, whereas Tony is the kind of superhero who shows up to a fight already bleeding out under his armor. Yeah, I know Extremis gave him a healing factor. But he didn't have it very long, and also he did some extremely dangerous things while he did have it; I'm pretty sure I've never seen Wolverine saying that he'll just solve a problem by cutting off his own foot. So, anyway, yeah, there are a bunch of good arcs involving h/c for Tony. If you're looking for physical injury, he has a whole bunch of heart problems over the years, gets several new hearts, then ruins his brain, et cetera. That level of hurt is basically the background pain of Tony's life; every so often, his heart will get damaged or he'll have to live in the armor or the armor will be killing him, et cetera. If you're looking for more unusual trauma, I am, as always, going to rec Manhunt, a relatively obscure arc in late v3 (IM v3 #65-69) in which Tony has an extremely bad week. His tech is stolen and used to bomb a building. Then he gets shot in the chest. Then while he's at the hospital a nurse tries and fails to poison him, and she then tries to beat him to death. Then he checks himself out of the hospital and a helicopter shoots missiles at him. Then he becomes a fugitive from justice. And then, oh, yeah, he has to fight the Mandarin. It is... a lot. (Volume 3 of Iron Man is pretty good as far as h/c possibilities. You've got a lot of physical pain, Carol's drinking arc, the Sentient Armor, both DreamVision arcs, and Manhunt. Manhunt is finally supposed to be out in trade this month, by the way.) There are of course the drinking arcs, which probably count as their own type of hurt. But if you haven't read the second drinking arc (IM #160-200), please do. Marvel likes to up the stakes on events (Fear Itself, Secret Empire) by making Tony drink, and it does work, I think. I feel like I've spoken at length about Tony's drinking elsewhere so I don't really want to rehash it all here. And then there's the emotional pain. Angst and drama is something that happens to a whole bunch of characters, yes, especially in comics, but somehow Tony seems to end up with possibly more than his fair share of it. Fandom likes to make a lot of Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, so much so that you might think, if you didn't know canon, that this was just fandom running with a throwaway mention of Tony's terrible childhood and making it worse. But, no, canon really does go there with a reasonable amount of frequency. Howard's actual first appearance is in a flashback where he's ordering teenage Tony to break up with his girlfriend because she's the daughter of one of Howard's business rivals. And then we get into the verbal abuse, and the physical abuse, and the time Howard made Tony take his first drink, and the part where Howard was a demon in hell who Tony fought while he insulted him. And more! Currently, in canon, Howard is alive again and is in league with Mephisto for the express purpose of ruining Tony's life. Also when Tony was a baby, Howard tried to trade him to Dracula. I think you can make an argument that fandom is actually showing restraint when compared to canon. Tony also has a whole lot of Terrible Exes whose presence and/or former presence in Tony's life can be used for a lot of hurt. If you've read any amount of fanfic, you probably know that the exes who get the most play in fandom are Sunset Bain and Tiberius Stone -- not that Tony and Ty were ever canonically a couple, of course, but fandom is definitely enamored of this idea. Ty and Sunset both have relatively similar interactions with Tony in canon, in that they are both liars and emotional abusers, heavy on the gaslighting, with the purpose of becoming more successful than Tony. They both also attempt to murder Tony, although this is after he figures out they're evil, at least. (Yes, I know, this is not how either of them usually appear in AUs.) Tony also has a bunch of exes who also have just straight-up tried to murder or otherwise hurt him, sometimes while they are dating, and sometimes before Tony dates them: Whitney Frost, Indries Moomji, Kathy Dare, and Maya Hansen come to mind. There are probably more I'm not thinking of! But, yes, if you want to write about a guy in a series of terrible relationships, please consider Iron Man comics. If mind control is one of your favorite flavors of hurt, Tony's pretty good for that too. We all know about The Crossing. I suppose when I say "mind control" I mostly mean "armor control" because there are an awful lot of plots where someone else makes Tony's armor do whatever they want it to do and Tony is along for the ride -- Demon in a Bottle, Sentient Armor, and Execute Program are the first things that come to mind. There is also a fairly obscure What If that is What If Iron Man Lost The Armor Wars in which Justin Hammer apparently really wants Tony in a mind control collar to take off all his clothes and lounge around in his underwear. No, really. I think a lot of pain for Tony often revolves around his issues with control, generally -- his alcoholism comes into play here again. The entire aftermath of Civil War is also notable for its propensity to hurt Tony over and over and over. Is he stoically soldiering on through his grief after Steve dies? Hell, no! He cries, like, six separate times. He 100% blames himself for Steve's death. It's great. Everybody loves The Confession and the funeral in Fallen Son, but one of my personal favorites is Avengers/Invaders, in which Tony is confronted with a time-traveling Steve from WWII and in order not to screw up the timeline, he can't tell Steve he knows him. He is clearly not coping well. He shuts himself in a room with a giant wall of pictures of Steve! Also there's a part where he has to try to convince Steve he can trust him and he ends up having to tie Steve to a chair to talk to him, and Steve looks at him and asks, "Who did you kill to get where you are?" and I feel like that is probably one of the worst moments in Tony's life. No wonder he gave himself amnesia. So now we might want to ask, okay, but why is hurting Tony in fanfiction so much fun? I mean, I can tell you why I think it's fun. I can't speak for anyone else. One reason is that he is very emotional and very affected by everything he does. Sometimes you will see people complaining that the heroes of m/m fanfic cry too much and this is not realistic. This is not a problem if you're writing Tony! He can cry as much as you want and it's perfectly in character. I don't think it would be as fun to hurt him if he didn't express so much of his pain. But he does. He also feels guilty, and for me that's a very satisfying character element. If he were well-adjusted and didn't blame himself for so many things, it wouldn't be nearly as fun as watching him blame himself for everyone whose death he thinks he is responsible for, whether or not he is. And then he just keeps going, and it's, y'know, nice to watch him be resilient, too. So, I guess, I think hurting him is interesting because it's easy to hurt him, his weak points are pretty obvious, and he reacts a lot. Steve doesn't hurt quite as much as Tony does, in canon. It's certainly possible to hurt him -- I mean, they did actually kill him after Civil War, after all -- but I don't think the canonical patterns of hurting him are as numerous. Obviously deseruming Steve is a fairly popular go-to in terms of physical hurt; he's been deserumed at least three times that I know of. I think's easy to see the appeal there of taking a character who is fairly physically resilient and making him... much less so. Certainly Marvel seems to see the appeal. But other than that I don't think he has any other really common way to get physically injured. Unlike Tony, whose origin story is basically "oh no, I've acquired a disability," Steve's origin story is "I drank a serum that cured all my disabilities." Which, I mean, great wish fulfillment but there's not really as much there to poke at. Pretty much all of Steve's pain is emotional, but, unlike Tony, his pain isn't often specifically in response to someone directly, purposefully hurting him. Hickman's Avengers run is a big exception, yes. His pain seems to come up most often as a kind of situational angst. He feels like a man out of time. He feels out of touch with the modern era, with people his own age. He feels guilt because he feels responsible for Bucky's death. He feels like he can't trust the government and therefore he can't be Captain America. He worries that he doesn't know how to have a normal life. And, yes, these are deep and important worries but it's different than, like, Indries Moomji dumping Tony with the intent to make him sad enough to start drinking. Very few of Steve's villains want to personally ruin Steve's entire life the way Tony's villains do; mostly they just want to do things like bring back the Nazis. In terms of Steve's potential for h/c, I think Steve is harder to hurt than Tony is. Physically, he is definitely harder to hurt. You can deserum him, sure, but unless you want everything you write to be a deseruming fic you're probably not going to want to do that more than a couple of times. And if you want to hurt him physically while he has the serum, you have to hurt him hard. Usually past the point where a regular human would ever survive it. He's also harder to break, emotionally, than Tony is -- which means it's very satisfying when you can get him to break, but this is a guy who's only cried twice (that I remember) in canon. So if you want to get him to cry, you really, really have to wreck him, and he doesn't have as many obvious weak spots. He also doesn't generally sit around blaming himself for things that aren't his fault, and the whole "stewing in guilt" genre of plots for him basically came down to "he was sad that he thought Bucky's death was his fault," and that's really the biggest regret he seems to have, and also Bucky's not dead anymore. The Steve/Tony relationship itself, I would think, is also appealing to h/c fans because canon provides a lot of ways for them to hurt each other. Some people only ship pairings who would never, y'know, take turns beating each other half to death in major event comics. (And for a lot of Marvel Comics history, that was also Steve & Tony, so if you want them to be BFFs who have never fought, you can just set your fic earlier.) They have definitely hurt each other both physically and emotionally, so if you're looking for something easy and satisfying as a h/c fan, you can just read or write something where they... make up. What about Marvel characters other than Steve and Tony? Surely some of them are angsty, yes? Well, yes, but also it depends on the particular flavor of angst that you like. If you like the way Tony hurts, you may very well enjoy Doctor Strange comics, because they have a very similar attitude towards life -- they are both former alcoholics whose origin stories involve physical disabilities, who routinely make tactical decisions that negatively affect their continued existence and/or happiness a whole lot. It's very much an "I must suffer alone in the dark and no one will ever know what I am doing to save the world but it's the right thing to do" sort of vibe. Like, you can read comics where Strange is lying in hell with two broken legs, hallucinating that Clea has finally come to save him. Strange's biggest fear, akin to Tony's control issues, is basically that one day he's going to be an asshole again, so he's out there trying as hard as he can to do good. Also, if you like tentacles, he has all of them. I mean that. Carol also occasionally hits similar angst spots, and her drinking arc is great. A lot of people like Natasha, too; I have read zero Black Widow comics but I get the impression many people enjoy her brand of angst. The mutant metaphor is a little different in terms of overall vibe, but some people really like it as a source of angst -- the whole "protecting a world who hates and fears them" thing. It may not work for you, but if you like your hurt to include things like systemic oppression, go pick up some X-Men comics. Start with something like God Loves Man Kills. I feel like I liked this sort of thing a lot more as a teenager but that I kind of aged out of liking the mutants quite so much. It's also worth mentioning that not everything that hits the spot in one universe will be the same in the others, and I'm mentioning this because I feel like I have to say something about MCU Bucky. MCU fandom seems to get a lot of mileage out of Bucky's guilt about being the Winter Soldier, everything he was forced to do, et cetera. I have definitely read my share of those fics, and FATWS sure went right for that angst too. But as far as I can tell, he doesn't hit the same way at all in 616. And I like him a lot in 616; I'm always pleased when he shows up on a team. (He was so good in Strikeforce. Everyone was so good in Strikeforce.) But the thing is, 616 Bucky is, basically, phenomenally well-adjusted, given everything he's gone through, and I'm including the time he wrestled a bear in a gulag. He gets over having been the Winter Soldier, and now he's just, y'know, a guy with a cool arm who likes to bring guns to every fight to horrify his teammates, and he snarks at Clint. If you're looking for that angst, that is really not him these days. He's all better. So pretty much all that is canon. So what do we do in fandom for h/c? Well, as far as I can tell, a decent amount of it is canon-based or very canon-close -- there are a whole lot of stories exploring the angst of Civil War or Hickman's Avengers run. Tony's drinking comes up a fair amount, and if one of Tony's Evil Exes comes back to haunt him, it's pretty much only Tiberius Stone. I don't think I've read a lot of fic with Steve getting deserumed; it doesn't seem as popular in fandom as in canon. When Steve gets hurt, he tends to just get physically whumped pretty hard, and there's a fair amount of that for Tony too, but of course Steve can take more. There's also a thriving, uh, subgenre of pain involving Hydra Steve doing terrible things to Tony, presumably the terrible things he would have wanted to do to Tony in canon if Tony had had a flesh body. There's the usual kinds of h/c setups that appear in basically every fandom as well -- sickfic, whump, dub-con/non-con. You get the idea. But since fandom in general likes to take specific inspiration from canon, there's a lot of fic where the hurt tends to resemble things that happen more in canon. Like, I feel like comics fic probably has more tentacle fic and more mind control than canons that don't come pre-stocked with those. Probably everybody has a whole lot of "tied up by bad guys," though. And then, of course, fandom brings the comfort that canon does not. This is true in pretty much every fandom -- I mean, you aren't going to find a lot of actual canons where Character A saves Character B from mortal peril and then there's gay sex -- but, like I was saying, comics don't provide a lot of closure before it's onto the next thing. Usually with a different creative team, who has no interest in wrapping up anything from the last team. Steve and Tony talked about the incursions exactly once after Secret Wars and nobody mentioned the part where Steve spent several months trying to hunt Tony down and kill him. Tony is never going to remember the events of Civil War. Hydra Steve died ignominiously in a fire and no one has ever talked about him again. Honestly, if you're looking for a way to get some comfort in your fanfic, picking an event, any event, and just having the characters talk about it will be way more than any of them get in canon. I feel like honestly that can often be a pretty satisfying to read. And even though comics canon physically hurts characters pretty often and pretty badly, they also often skip right past the recovery. Maybe you'll get one page of a character in a hospital bed at the end of the story arc. Maybe you won't. Demon in a Bottle has one splash page of Tony going through alcohol withdrawal and then he's all better. I think Manhunt skips to Tony getting out of the hospital at the end. That's just not a story that they want to tell very often. The second drinking arc is notable in that it devotes almost as many issues to Tony's recovery as it does to getting him to rock-bottom. Similarly, Steve is done with his Nomad angst way way faster than you probably think he is (though The Captain does go in for a fair number of issues). So one of the things we often want to do in fandom is focus on all the bits that canon skips over, both in the "why did no one ever mention this story arc ever again" way and the "wow, so how long are they in the hospital after that" way. That's really all I can think of about h/c! I'm off to write some more of it!

#posts i actually wrote

64 notes · View notes

ace-trainer-risu · 3 years

Note

what are your fave diana wynne jones books that aren’t howl’s moving castle??

Oh whattt a lovely and fun question which I was definitely not secretly hoping someone would ask!!!! Yay!!

Hm okay so, not specifically in order, probably my top fave Diana Wynne Jones books would be:

Deep Secret! Deep Secret is not just one of my favorite books by DWJ but one of my favorite books full stop! It’s so good. Basically, the premise is that there is an infinite series of interconnected worlds, some of which have magic and some of which don’t, at the center of which is a vast interdimensional magical empire. Magic in the multiverse is overseen by an organization of magicians called Magids and there must always be a specific number of Magids in existence. When Rupert, a young Magid living on Earth, discovers that his mentor has died (ish) he becomes unexpectedly responsible for finding and training the next Magid, which is extremely inconvenient timing for him because the aforementioned magical empire is on the brink of civil war and chaos and its his job to stop it. And also almost all of this takes place at...a science fiction convention. It’s amazing. I have read this book minimum four (probably more) times and every time it’s absolutely delightful and hilarious. I would like to go to the sci fi convention in this novel more than anything. It’s such a good read and its one of her few novels which is specifically aimed at adults, so I would EXTREMELY recommend it. Plus the romance in it is extremely good...not exactly enemy-to-lovers but more like ‘annoys-the-shit-out-of-each-other’ to lovers. (**One note about this one...there’s a few very briefly mentioned side characters who are gender noncomforming and even tho they are actually portrayed very positively, it’s not necessarily ideal and 100% respectful (basically the protags comment on them being very beautiful and nice but also keep trying to guess their “real” gender). Additionally there’s a different briefly mentioned side character who is fat who isn’t portrayed very nicely. Both of these are brief incidents, just wanted to provide a warning for them)

Dark Lord of Derkholm - Okay this one is weirdly hard to summarize but it’s about this magical fantasy world which has been taken overy and is being used as a tourist destination by a non-magical world (heavily implied to be Earth) for people who want to role play at being in a classic high fantasy story, including fighting and killing THE DARK LORD...who is really just a random magician pretending to be evil. The inhabitants of the fantasy world do not enjoy this and are trying desperately to stop the tours, but unfortunately according to a magical oracle, their best hope of stopping the tours is this year’s Dark Lord, a hapless farmer magician named Derk, and his, um, eccentric family consisting of his glamorous wife, seven children (of whom five are griffins and one is a bard) and a simply improbable amount of magical animals. And also there is a very good dragon. I think Derkholm is so great as a novel b/c it’s a very funny, loving but sharp, parody of high fantasy stories...but a lot of the time parodies only function as parodies but not as good stories in their own right, you know? But this novel completely functions as a story too, and in fact the first time I read at maybe age nine or ten, the high fantasy parody went completely over my head...but I still loved it. I also really love that this novel is very accessible to all ages, I think I enjoy reading it as an adult just as much as I did as a kid, which is rare. For anyone who has read Howl’s Moving Castle but nothing else by DWJ and isn’t sure where to start, I think this is a great place to start. (TW: There’s a brief, non-explicit scene which has implied sexual assault.)

Fire and Hemlock - This may be the most controversial one since it features a romance with a significant age gap where the two characters meet when one is a child and the other an adult. And I fully agree that that’s :/ and normally that trope is NOT my thing but it doesn’t come off at all creepy in this story imo, and if you think you can deal with that then this is a very weird, atmospheric, cool book about storytelling and fairy tales and growing up. The short summary (this is another hard to summarize one) is that as a child, Polly encounters and strikes up a friendship and correspondence with a young man, Tom, which mainly consists of the two of them jointly making up a silly, ongoing fairy tale type story...but things get weird when parts of their story start to come true in real life. I’ve only read this one twice but it really stuck with me and in fact just describing it here...really makes me want to read it again!

The Chrestomanci Series - So all of the above are either specifically aimed at adults or a general audience whereas the Chrestomanci series is aimed at children, mainly a middle grade type audience. And tbh I started reading them as a kid (fond memory - I bought an omnibus of the first two with my allowance money...b/c it had a cat on the cover!) so I don’t know what it would be like to first read these as an older teen or an adult. BUT. Honestly they are really good and would be a quick read so I do still recommend them. There’s seven overall, with th seventh being a collection of short stories, and they’re only semi-chronological so the reading order isn’t vital. My recommended order (b/c this the order I read them in, haha) is Charmed Life, The Lives of Christopher Chant, The Magicians of Caprona, Witch Week, The Pinhoe Egg, Conrad’s Fate, and then Mixed Magic you can read whenever you want so long as you read it after Charmed Life and The Magicians of Caprona. So the very core premise of it is not dissimilar to Deep Secret - there’s an infinite series of worlds/universes and there’s a magician, called the Crestomanci in this case, who is responsible for making sure magic isn’t abused across the multiverse. The Chrestomanci is an extremely powerful enchanter who has nine lives, and the novels are various semi-connected stories about the adventures of Chrestomanci as an adult and child. Chrestomanci is a title so it’s not always the same person, but for the majority of the stories it is the same guy and he’s...the best/worst...He’s this extremely handsome, charismatic, powerful enchanter who is very good at his job, loves his wife a lot, wears very beautiful clothes and makes, um, questionable life choices and is very annoying to everyone. I’ve thought about this very hard and I believe that he’s what happens when you take a fundamentally chaotic good person and make him do a fundamentally lawful good job; yes, he’s going to do it and do it well, but he is going to do it in the most chaotic, ridiculous way possible, and he IS going to die at an ALARMING rate, doing things that would not normally kill a person, such as playing cricket and trying to catch stray cats. He also, as previously mentioned, frequently wears very dramatic silk dressing gowns with elaborate embroidery, which the protag of Charmed Life finds deeply alarming. It’s very odd to me how these books don’t seem to be well known, because the Chrestomanci books were some of my absolute favorite books as a child. I still have my omnibus editions of the first four novels and they are very worn and very beloved. And it’s so WILD to me that I don’t think I have ever talked to someone who also read those as a kid! Like I’m not saying those people don’t exist, I’m sure I just haven’t met them, but that’s so weiiirddddd to me. If I bring up Tamora Pierce or Garth Nix or other authors of weird, eccentric children’s fantasy novels to other avid childhood consumers of fantasy, people usually know what I mean, but Chrestomanci and its just..crickets. Is it b/c she’s British? Anyway all of the Chrestomanci books are very degrees of good, but if I had to pick a favorite, I think, controversial choice here, it would be Conrad’s Fate. Particularly in terms of recommendations to others, Conrad’s Fate works as a standalone and, unlike the other books in the series, it’s aimed more at a YA audience, so if you wanted to read a Chrestomanci novel without getting into the whole series, that’s a good way to go. It’s about a boy, Conrad, who is told that he has a terrible, possibly fatal Fate awaiting him unless he goes to work as a servant at a wealthy, and weird, estate neighboring his town, at which place he encounters things including color changing livery, an extremely annoying teenage Chrestomanci, and the greatest liminal space house EVER. It’s like a combination of an upstairs/downstairs Downton Abbey type social drama with bizarre fantasy shenanigans. How could that not be good??

Also as Honorable Mentions - A Sudden and Wild Magic and The Time of the Ghost. A Sudden and Wild Magic is fun b/c it’s one of her few works aimed specifically at adults and it’s (gasp) a little bit NAUGHTY which I was very surprised and delighted by when I read it. (This may seem like an unfair statement considering that Deep Secret fully has an orgy in it, but Rupert is so fundamentally unnaughty of a character that he completely unnaughtifies the whole novel, whereas Sudden and Wild Magic embraces being a (little bit) naughty.) The Time of the Ghost on the other hand is weird and haunting and creepy and atmospheric. I only read it once but it’s one of those novels you just think about periodically and go “wait what the fuck that was a weird novel” (Also known as the “Garth Nix” effect)

#the ask and the answer #i spent...too long writing this out but i love talking about her novels soo muchhhh #that i couldn't help myself!!!!!!!!#diana wynne jones #things you didn't care to know about veronica

83 notes · View notes