#love social cues would love to get one someday

[see-arcane]

Dracula Dailiers we have a LOT to unpack

-RIP to the Captain, Whitby loves and misses you

-Surprise RIP to Mr. Swales, I know you died shit-talking the Count so mercilessly the ancient bastard had to snap your neck*

-*Alternatively, it was because you were sitting over the grave he wanted to use for his camp-out resting place. Hence why yet another dog got its hackles up when passing near the spot, having sensed the atrocious Dracula-vibes within. Also, shout-out to the asshole dog owner who kicked his own pup, I hope you get gangrene in that foot.

-Lucy is still sleepwalking. We can be pretty sure there’s some extra influence going on there. But what gets all my hairs standing up is that Mina knows Something More is up and Lucy refuses to talk about it. Worse, it’s something that implies a miserable camaraderie with the dog’s terror when touching the gravestone; the inarticulate dread, the fear that comes with Knowing There is a Threat and Not Knowing the Threat’s Name.

-Good cows!

-Hoo boy, here comes Stoker’s misplaced mouthpiece time with Mina poo-pooing ‘the New Woman.’ Between this sniffing at the independent stance of the New Woman phenomenon and the Lilith-adjacent baby-eating caricature the sexy evil Brides present, Stoker was hitting the gas on the lady prejudice. Ironically, in a way that flies in the face of his main girl being so obviously in line with a lot of the New Woman’s principles. Yes, as the book goes on, there will be some period-typical maidenly fretting and ‘do not fear, this is man’s work!’ moments—which kind of tips Stoker’s hand in a very telling ‘appreciation’ for manful men doing manful men things. With other men.—but when Mina isn’t performing damsel duty?

She’s a worker. She’s a thinker. She’s a doer. She fills 90% of traditional male roles in literature throughout the story just as Jonathan filled out the gothic damsel in distress role at the book’s start. Frankly I think the only reason she or Lucy are able to unironically turn their noses up at the ‘New Woman’ is because:

A)   They’re miraculously surrounded by the most chivalrous men on Earth, let alone in England. They’ve no reason to get ruffled over a lack of respect or care.

B)   Mina’s only solid acquaintance with men beyond a few interviewees so far is Jonathan ‘Mina-Addicted Sweetheart’ Harker and Mr. Hawkins who’s like a second father.

C)   Her social circle really isn’t all that big, period. Yes, there’s Lucy who she’s known since childhood, Jonathan, her students, but who else does she really talk about like they’re close? Least of all any acquaintances who might be or know ~confirmed~ New Women?

D)  Being a newspaper lover, I’d bet money her only real ‘knowledge’ of the New Woman phenomenon comes from Punch comics and mansplained satire discussing outlandish parodies of the actual movement/women. Of course she isn’t like them! How absurd!

E)    She does genuinely want to start a family with Jonathan and this traditional desire likely feels to her like another proof against her being a dreadful (gasp) New Woman.

All the while she’s oblivious to all the traits that make her—the working, intelligent, active, teacher/budding journalist/equal partner to her fiancé—very much part of the New Woman movement. It wouldn’t surprise me if Jonathan was someday stunned to realize she was in earnest about her disdain, leading to him gently, lovingly, claiming he is quite shocked and hurt, as one of his best friends is a New Woman. Would he like to meet her?

Cue him holding up a mirror.

-Lucy is so pretty and full of blood <3

-I too would be happier if only I knew if Jonathan. Where Jonathan. Want Jonathan. Return Jonathan.

#in which there is rambling #dracula #dracula daily #mina murray #mina harker #lucy westenra #jonathan harker #The New Woman #bram stoker

[tboygareth]

here's a teeny tiny lil scoops troop drabble for @stobinesque's birthday, just a few hours late <33

the first time steve and robin took dustin and erica out for ice cream after starcourt, it was a fucking disaster. robin told steve it would be, and he didn't believe her, but she wanted so badly to do something else because she was just so certain that ice cream wouldn't be the same for those kids anymore after everything that happened and would ya look at that? robin was right.

of course robin was right, robin was always right. one day steve would learn that robin's ideas would always be the best, that even though robin wasn't always great at picking up social cues she did understand people's emotions pretty well, thanks so much for not asking, dingus. it had only been, like, a month or so and already robin was sick of playing the i told you so game with steve harrington.

she loved him, though. there's some stuff you can't come out of on the other side without forming a lifelong bind with someone and as it turned out, being drugged and tortured by russians was one of those things. so. robin was stuck with steve now, just like he was stuck with her, just like the two of them were stuck with dustin and erica. what a strange little troupe of misfits they made.

the first time they went out for ice cream after starcourt, none of them could finish their sundaes. the ice cream sat heavy on their tongues and went down too cold and sat uncomfortably in the pits of their stomachs. it made robin think of the fear of that day, made her jump at the sound of the door to her left opening with a little jingle as other customers walked in. steve had a faraway look in his eyes sometimes, the way robin's uncle still sometimes did when he started thinking about the war. dustin and erica were quiet. it was almost eerie.

so robin suggested pizza, and erica jumped at the suggestion, and the four of them found their way to the big empty harrington house where they all piled onto the couch together while my little pony played on the tv.

erica came to life again with her face smeared with pizza grease as she peeled the layer of cheese off the top, shoving it into her mouth as she argued with dustin about the characters' motivations, the writing, the animation. even when she initially seemed to agree with him she would argue, tell dustin he was wrong and stupid and what could you possibly understand about north star, dumbass - you couldn't navigate your way out of a wet paper bag!

and steve laughed. he laughed in a way robin hadn't seen since before everything that happened. he laughed at the kids, he laughed at her, he laughed at himself, and for the first time in weeks robin was happy. she wasn't healed, she wasn't okay - not by a long shot.

but she would be. someday. if things kept up like this and she got to spend more time with these people who had come to mean more to her than any other friend she'd ever had in her life, someday robin would be okay. she'd never forget the things she went through in that bunker under the mall - none of them would. but she had people here who understood her, who could empathize with her pain and her fear, and she had steve.

they'd get through this together.

#platonic with a capital p #scoops troop #fic #happy birthday read #bee's blurbs

[trelinha9]

Every time I see a Friede x Amethio post, ten of my neurons die. I know these posts come from new fans who only watched the episodes released on Netflix (which goes up to 13 if I'm not mistaken), and he's only appeared in 6 episodes at this point (which is a crime against my mental health. What the hell is he doing in that time offscream? I WANT ANSWERS!!!) I remember in the first episodes of Horizontes, that Tumblr and AO3 were full of posts and fics about Friede x Amethio, and they disappeared over time as the episodes went on.

It's funny, because nowadays, almost a year after Horizons officially started, fans who watch the subtitled episodes are all worried about the mental health of this teenager and wondering why the heck they are in Exploradores, while the new fans are in the same boat as most of the old ones were and abandoned, shipping the poor guy with Friede.

I personally never shipped them because:

1: Amethio is, canonically, and confirmed by his original voice actor, a teenager (on bulbapedia it said he was between 13 and 19, but now they removed that part and only added the fact that he is a teenager, without mentioning a possible age) I headcanon him as 16, because, for me, it's the age that makes the most sense for his behavior and mannerisms, but that's just me. You can imagine him as 18 or 19 if that makes you feel more comfortable shipping him with Friede, but it doesn't change the fact that he's still a young and emotionally immature person, with no apparent emotional support base other than his Pokémon and his subordinates (Zir and Conia will get there someday, I know they will), while Friede is a fully grown adult, and clearly more mature than Amethio (there's even a line about it in episode 25). Friede had already been a Pokémon teacher for probably a reasonable amount of time when Liko was around 5 to 7 years old (we find out about this in episode 18), and honestly, Amethio doesn't look that much older than Liko. The clear age difference between them makes me uncomfortable. There are a lot of adults in the Horizons cast to be shipped with Friede, leave the traumatized teenager alone.

2: The way Friede, especially in the first arc, keeps teasing Amethio, even though he's clearly irritated and on edge, makes me want to punch him. I love Friede. But the way he interacts with Amethio, one minute he's having a good time taking care of Liko and Roy, and the next he's ready to annoy the shit out of a teenager make me so angry. I love this idea that Friede is a complete social disaster who doesn't really know how to pick up cues (scareing a deaf girl, for example, is definitely something he would do by accident 👀), but there's no way he can't see how negatively his actions and words affect Amethio. Amethio wants to prove himself. He wants to fulfill the mission ordered to him, and this idiot adult, in addition to getting in the way, bothers him every chance he gets (ep 5, ep 22 and ep 25 are the best examples). I'm amazed at how Friede either doesn't really realize the harm his actions cause to Amethio, or he does and simply decides to keep doing it.

This post may make it seem like I don't like Friede, which isn't true. I love Friede. I think he's a very funny character, but he also has a lot of flaws, and bullying a teenager is one of them.

I don't want to start fights about ships, because I'm not in Horizontes for the ships, but for the story and the characters. The only ship I really like is Friede with a certain Explorer who erased a child's memory (because for the love of god, they couldn't have made their battle in the last episode any less gay, could they) I don't want to offend anyone who ships Friede and Amethio, I just wanted to give my opinion on the matter and why I, with my interpretation of the story and characters, hate this ship. (Hate is a strong word, but I feel uncomfortable whenever I see this ship somewhere)

I'm really sorry if I offended anyone at any point in this post, I just don't like seeing a teenager and an adult being shiped.

#pokemon horizons #amethio #professor friede #pokemon friede #pokemon #Amethio is my favorite character he needs therapy not romance #I tried to avoid as many spoilers as possible here #I know that this new popularity of the ship comes from new fans #and I don't want to ruin their experience with the story #but be warned: episodes 22 and 25 have a lot of interactions that I consider problematic between Amethio and Friede #“you wanna play tag?” asks Friede to the teenager who wants to throw him into a wall #Dude who you think you are? #The Collector? #And his line in ep 25 is SO MUCH WORSE #WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT TO A TEENAGER MY MAN? #ARE TOU INSANE? #I have a lot of fun when these two interact #it's fun #when Friede isn't being an amoeba incapable of socialization that is

[zarvasace]

Hi I just reread your marvelous misadventures fic and I just wanted to let you know that I absolutely adore it!

Would you be able to toss some hc’s about the boys in the fic? 💜💜💜💜 (no pressure if you’re busy or have better things to do!) : )

Awww thank you so much!!! I'm so glad you like it!! 💜💜💜 (Here's the fic in question, it's a modern "everyone's a mythological creature" AU that's pure self-indulgence with a plot)

I'll be careful about spoilers but I can totally throw out some hcs!

Wind's a seer, and he'd be nosy even if he couldn't See things. He can't See emotions like some seers, but he can See other manifestations of emotions (see: Hyrule's wings, or Twilight's wolf), and he's gotten really used to using those cues to help him navigate social situations. If he couldn't use his talent for some reason, he'd get really awkward.

Downfall, the magically cut-off continent that Hyrule and Legend are from, has government, but it devolved a while ago into.... we'll call them bureaucratic warlordships. It'll take some effort to get that organized again. Anyway, those warlords don't give official recognition for being a Hero, not like the mainland does, but they used to. Legend knows the stories better, but Hyrule knows the more romanticized versions, and he used to dream of becoming a Hero. He still does. Legend sort of does, too, but he'd never admit it.

Sky is a dragon, as were many Skyloftians, but there aren't too many left. They're not immortal, just slow agers. The government's in on it, or at least a few high rankers are. Wind was right when he hypothesized that there's only ever been one Hero of the Sky, rather than a long line of them. Loftwings are endangered, since they live longest when bonded with one of the flightless dragons. Sky and his Zelda have been alive for at least two hundred years and still aren't married, incredibly.

Warriors is a half-demon who literally grew up in hell, and though his Zelda/Sheik and a few others have mostly pounded decency through his head, he still has a few messed-up assumptions about the world internalized. Due to his abnormal education, though, he's the only one who actually knows what Wild is (including Wild himself.)

Four's pretty sure he's just human. The colors in this story work more like LU canon than I usually write them, they're more just extensions of himself than fully realized individuals.

Twilight and Wild live on a patch of good land that one of Twilight's older relatives willed to him. They're currently living in an old cabin there, but someday Twilight wants to build two new cabins, and settle into one with a family of his own. His half-baked plans include setting Wild up with someone who won't mind how unafraid he is of death and giving them the second cabin. He's not sure how he'll do that, though, and he is increasingly unhappy with the fact that "werewolf" is both on his ID and his background check.

Wild's just half-aware of all of that, and is more focused at the moment on getting settled into the modern world—his land was cut off from the continent for that century he wasn't around, and both he and everyone else there are getting used to cars and fast food chains.

Due to some spoilers, Time isn't able to have biological children, and he and Malon are starting to look into fostering. Time's realizing that there are a lot of teens and tweens out there with magic who are a lot like Wars was (i.e. in need of realistic expectations of cause and effect), and he wants to help.

...okay that was a lot sorry I love them too!

#my writing #long post #sort of #linked universe #marvelous misadventures #asks #lu au #immmmm not gonna tag all the characters

[mossrotts]

tw for mass shooting, suicide ment, depression and anxiety, self harm, irl body horror ment?, heavy stuff in general

(i am okay, i will be okay, i have good support in my life; but i know that writing out stuff and like, getting it out tends to help so this just kind of talking about some negative stuff that's been happening--some more intense than others)

at the start of january, there was a mass shooting in the town i live. the town i live has a population of 7000 people.

the way i found out about it was this: i went into work and was assigned the route that i'm always assigned on sunday and a coworker came up to me and was like haha, wow, how do you feel about having the murder route? obviously confused i asked what and he said there were some murders on my route. he said it with a weird glee so i wasn't sure if he was making a weird boomer joke i didn't get or if i was just. not reading the social cues right or what.

worried about it, once i loaded up with packages i looked it up and found that there was, on my route on a street with a total of eight houses, a mass shooting. eight people dead; the oldest 74 and the youngest 4. a man killed his entire family before taking his own life. i don't interact with many people directly while delivering mail and so it was with some surprise that i realized i knew them--i interacted with the seven year old son on a weekly basis.

looking up the news that soon afer was. rough. the way it was portrayed immediately was the same way i've always seen it portrayed in Utah--an issue that is prevalent throughout the US, particularly with white male aggressors, but especially in Utah--the picture used showed the man in a happy, peaceful family portrait with all his victims. the article talked about how there was no indication how this would happen, that the wife had begun divorce proceedings two weeks prior to her murder but never indicated any violence. the article mainly focused on what an upstanding member of the (mormon) Church the man was and what a loving father he'd been.

i had no clue the full scope of things and didn't know how the event had happened, but it still felt disrespectful for how much the articles focused on him and integrated him so much with the family he had killed.

and, of course, there was a plea in the article to 'not make this tragedy about politics', and not talk about gun control because they'd had multiple firearms and the wife had asked the husband to remove them (which he said he did, despite keeping one for himself privately) and if she hadn't have done that then "the victims would have been able to protect themselves".

i'll remind you that the youngest victim was his four year old son.

after this, soon all around my town were little yard signs that said '#enoch strong' or 'we <3 enoch!' and that was. that was the only difference. the crime tape was up that one day while i delivered, then gone the next. it was like it never happened.

i've seen that before--though through different tragedies. my best friend killed himself. i loved him--i thought i was going to marry him because even though i didn't feel attraction for him, the way the mormon church is i knew that i would have to get married to a nice mormon boy someday and i would rather it be with him than anyone else. that's a different can of worms though. he killed himself; he set his car on fire, sat in it, and used a firearm to end his life.

my friend suffered from BPD without support and with the direct pressure of his abusive father and mormon Church societal expectation. no article surrounding his death, no memorial, no nothing mentioned the idea that either there should be more support for mental illnesses--and gun control was never even mentioned.

his father, a bishop in the mormon church at the time, headed my friend's memorial. he talked about how much he loved his son, but that he knew his son was at peace now. he talked about how if we turned to jesus we could make it through any trial we were given, even one as harsh as losing a son.

pj hated his dad. i wonder how many people knew that.

and that was it. it was like he just disappeared after that. swept under the rug. no one talked about him, there was no change, nothing to fill his void. there was no burial, no place for closure, and nothing to suggest anyone would try to make sure this didn't happen to other kids after him. i tracked down his mom about four years after his death and was able to find out where she spread his ashes. she picked a good place and i visit it yearly now.

two years before i was born, there was a murder in the college town next to my current town. almost a decade before matthew shepherd, gordon church was brutally sexually assaulted and murdered and his murderers both used the gay panic defense (though, due to the brutality, was in this case ineffective and they were sentenced to prison). a gag order was placed on many parts of the case--further silence pressured by the mormon church--due to gordon church being mormon and his sexuality. the crime was so silenced that many people don't know it happened. years ago i had a coworker, whom i liked and was generally progressive for utah, who didn't understand why the gays were fighting for the right to get married and why they acted like they were still being oppressed--crimes like that didn't happen anymore, and they clearly had never happened here.

it felt like it was happening again. another crime that utah and the church would just hide it again. sweep it under the rug. just don't talk about it. #enoch strong and we <3 enoch is all we need.

i cannot imagine how much the family and loved ones of the victims felt and hurt, how much they still do. as far as i know they've not requested any help and so i'm not going to be posting any gofundmes or anything here, but god if you're able to advocate for gun control and safety or see programs providing support for those with mental illness; please help there. we need it more than ever. and god i know i was not and am not as personally effected as so many involved in this, but i don't know if i can describe the just. idk, heaviness of the thought that it's happening again. that this would be the only thing i'd hear of it and this entire family would be gone like they never existed.

but perhaps something good--i say that with the largest grain of salt--is that people with far more reach than me cared and they felt the treatment of the victims was wrong and they have worked to get more information out. and that comes with two sides. one is that this isn't being swept under the rug, which will hopefully give both the victims the attention they deserve and help to prevent something like this from happening again. the other side is how horrific and depressing some of that information is.

people pushed for the obituary praising what a good member of the Church and upstanding father the killer was to be removed. they did not, as far as i know, try to degrade him or anything. just wanted it removed. and it was. at the funeral the victims were buried together while the killer had a closed ceremony elsewhere.

more information about the situation got out. acab as usual--but apparently neighbors had to all but beg cops to go do a wellness check on the family after thinking something was very off. i can confirm that a cop lives less than a block away.

one of the daughters, 17 years old, apparently claimed her dad was being abusive and that she was "afraid [her] dad would kill [her]". her dad was apparently quoted saying jokingly afterwards "oh, she's so mouthy". we don't have any thoughts from the mother, but i think it's important to know that divorce is pretty fucking rare in mormon communities. and i hate knowing that--i hate knowing that one of the daughters spoke up enough that we have it RECORDED that she was scared--that she was brave enough to say something and she was fucking right and no one listened to her and now she and her five younger siblings are dead. it's not fucking fair.

i don't know where i was going with that, but it fucking sucks and i hate this.

i've also been having financial issues; i wont get into it too much but essentially my meds have jumped up to $200 every time i get them, and for whatever reason the pharmacy accidentally double charged me when i picked them up--which i barely had the $200 and i did NOT have the $400. went into the negative and my bank immediately started charging overdraft fees. i had to call the bank and get it sorted out but god it was awful. also even though i'm not going into depth please look at this hilarious conversation i had with walgreens pharmacy

00:00:26 system : BOT : [...] how can I help you? USER : I recently purchased my prescriptions and in addition to the expected charge I have a duplicate amount pending in my bank account. Why is the system trying to double charge my account? BOT : I haven't learned about that yet. I’ll get someone to help you [...] 00:00:28 Therisa : Hi! My name is Therisa H. How can I help you? 00:01:58 Therisa : The pending charge will fall off for you 00:02:03 USER : Hi, I recently picked up my prescriptions from Walgreens. In addition to being charged the expected amount in person, I have an additional charge (the same amount) pending in my bank account. Are you able to check why I'm being double charged? 00:02:34 USER : I've been charged an overdraft due to the second charge; will this money be returned? 00:02:36 Therisa : The pending charge will fall off for you 00:02:51 USER : Do you know when? 00:03:08 USER : Or how to prevent it from doing a pending charge in the future? 00:03:12 Therisa : 3-7 business days 00:03:51 USER : Thank you. And do you know how to prevent it from doing a pending charge in the future? 00:05:49 Therisa : there isnt a way 00:06:19 USER : alright, thanks.

what a good time. the amount i make per hour at the post office is good, but for some reason they're not calling me in for more than one day a week and i just. haven't been able to keep up financially so i have to start looking for a new job.

and god, if you've heard at all about my personal life you probably have heard about the uh. idk, not great ways my jobs have ended. last job, where i felt like i was doing some good for awhile, i had to report for neglect to adult protective services and when the company refused to change the situation of abuse i had to decide whether or not i wanted to stay on the chance that i was helping people but being a part of a corrupt system or leave. the one before that (honestly the more normal of these) was shit and i quit after a manager attempted to reprimand and punish a coworker and i for talking in private about some of the negative aspects of the job. and the job before that i quit after finding out that a manager was using me to lure in girl coworkers for him to sexually groom/live with. after i and my friend (who lived with him after he'd set himself up to be just a chill place she could rent from for a bit, and who escaped him thank god) gave all our evidence over i left. he was arrested and lost his job, thank god, but i couldn't stay there.

anyway, i have some anxiety when it comes to starting a new job. it gets pretty bad when job hunting and gets real real bad like the first few days before i actually start working. but i haven't had enough money at my current job, working just one day a week, so i need to find a part time job. just started looking this week and i was nervous as my roommate was helping me look and i just kinda started picking at my nail polish. having nail polish is kinda nice because otherwise i start picking at my skin. and i wasn't paying much attention and i was just peeling/picking it off of my toe nails when i looked down and realized i had peeled an entire toe nail off. (well, almost, it was just barely connected at the end) and idk, it was bad. i have a history of self harm and i've... accidentally gone too far with it in the past without meaning to and it felt like that, even though i really wasn't trying to self harm at ALL in this situation. and also i didn't fucking know that was a thing a person could do? just pull off a nail?

anyway i'm okay and my roommate helped me wrap it up and we'll see if it like reattaches or what to do from here (it's still wrapped up rn, hasn't gotten worse if nothing else) but like.

idk where i was going with that either. capitalism sucks so much that i pulled my goddamn toenail off? wild???

or maybe just. like, all of writing this is just parts of realizing that i haven't been in an emotional/not good mood lately for no reason--it's been a lot of stuff that i was handling on its own but has been building up and i'm kinda in a rough place. and i'll be ok. but man it sucks right now.

#personal #delete later #don't need to read this if you dont want/dont have spoons! #and don't need to worry!!! #i know the tw are really worrying #but i am here and i will be ok #just wanted to make sure that if anyone does read that they're not going in blind yknow

[bethanydelleman]

The Great Gatsby & Mansfield Park

These two books, written by very different people in very different eras, give me the same feeling. The first time I read Mansfield Park, the similar feeling was from this line:

They were careless people, Tom and Daisy – they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.

Because the first time I saw the book as Fanny did, I saw the Crawfords as invaders who kind of ruined this family and then escaped without being harmed, but then I read it again and I realized that what really makes me sad in each book is the sadness of unachievable dreams.

Gatsby never gets Daisy, Edmund never gets Mary. Both of them couldn’t see the real woman. Edmund will not listen and sees what he wants to exist. Gatsby sees Daisy as a representation of wealth and success not as an actual human with a past and emotions.

Both family structures, Daisy & Tom and the Bertrams, are superficially beautiful and yet inwardly rotten (with the exception of Edmund, mostly)

Nick Caraway and Fanny Price both occupy a strange liminal space where they are within and outside of higher society.

Jordan Baker and Mary Crawford both kind of watch the action from the sidelines and don’t get involved in the morality. Both lose their love interest because of how they react to the climax of the story.

Nick and Fanny both do this strange thing where at first they don’t seem to really be participants in the story, but kind of strange narrator-observers but as time go on they take more of the stage

The hollow morality of the rich, disillusionment with society

Something between Gatsby and Fanny, where they are both raised up socially (Gatsby by his wealth and Fanny by her family), but they aren’t fully there and no one treats them as a equal. They are neither rich nor poor, they don’t fit anywhere. To oppose my point above a little, Nick knows how to fit, he isn’t fully in the club because he has a job and is poor. But Gatsby makes social errors and doesn’t seem to pick up cues, because he doesn’t have the education. Fanny has only a part of the education and no wealth. Her own conciousness of how poorly she merits a place in the society she lives in. But then she doesn’t fit in Portsmouth anymore either..

So anyway, despite being very different, these books occupy the same real estate in my head because I get a similar vibe from them. Someday I want to do a sort of crossover but I’m not totally sure how. Interestingly, while I have written varations to make Mansfield Park end happily, I don’t have the same compunction with The Great Gatsby. Maybe it’s because I literally don’t know how to fix it. Obviously you could send Gatsby home on time from WWI, but would Daisy really choose him? Would they actually be happy? If anything I want to write a nice happy ending for Jordan Baker.

#f scott fitzgerald #the great gatsby #mansfield park #jane austen #fanny price #edmund bertram #jordan baker #parallel vibes #it gives me a feeling of melancholy #there are no other books that give me the same vibe #I don't know #Someone told me I was crazy once for connecting these two #So here is my rationalization #This is how my brain works

[luciusspriggss]

trauma dumping on main some more (this is purely to rant. that's it)

i get im hard to be with. but i am constantly trying to better myself. i am constantly trying to do good. and i always support whoever im with no matter what. because i love them and dont care if they need my help getting out of bed, taking their shoes and socks off for them, or consoling them while they are having a hard time. that doesnt make a difference for me.

it's just hard when nobody is willing to do the same for me. and i get it, im difficult. i have meltdowns, i have low self esteem, i have trouble socializing with people and understanding social cues, i sometimes struggle with severe executive dysfunction, but i always try to make up for it in other ways.

after six months with Jes, they told me, after seeing me at my worse, that if that is all there is then they would want to spend the rest of their life with me. even if i was always at my worst and never got better. regardless, i tried so hard to never get back to that point and really improve myself. eventually they gave me a promise ring and told me they wanted to spend the rest of their life with me and marry me someday. that they never believed in love, or even knew what love really was, until they met me.

which is why it hurt when they told me they dont think they can handle my problems forever. that they dont believe in marriage or deep love anymore (with anyone). despite having a new partner who they have admitted that they may be in love with already. i get it, i really get it. im "too much" or "a lot".

it's just...the only people who really get me and love all of me, are my dad and step-mom. im scared im going to be alone the rest of my life. i understand i need to know how to be on my own (which i feel like i already do, considering my past situations where I was living by myself). I just, want to meet someone who gets me, and i get them, and we love and support one another.

i dont want to be scared, that if i have a meltdown they will want to break up with me. i want someone who is cool with me trying to figure out what is going to happen in a show/movie/storyline. i'm tired of people telling me to stop because "what is the point in even watching with you, when you are going to figure everything out and tell us what is going to happen. why watch anything at that point if you just figure it out all the time". i dont always figure it out though, and im never confident, i just see that shit as like a puzzle and it excites me. i just want for someone to try with me as much as i try with them. i want someone i can have fun with. i want someone who sees me and loves me for me.

i feel like people get to know me and create this idealized version of me (a manic pixie dream girl. one of my nicknames from someone was Summer Finn, from 500 days of summer). they put me on this pedestal, and then see the rest of me. not the fun me. not the quirky me. the real me. and realize they dont want to deal with "all of that". im tired of every romantic interest ive ever had, telling me "im not good enough for you, you deserve better than me. you deserve someone who can take care of you just as much as you take care of me"

i just feel unlovable. it doesnt help that my first ex ingrained in me that "nobody is good enough for you. you will never be happy with anyone. you are probably best off on your own". 😞. i dunno. i also dont know how the hell im supposed to meet someone, if i am terrified of talking to people. i am on the dating apps, but have never had any luck with them (probably because someone i would really get along with isnt even on them).

i just feel so lonely. it hurts that i found someone who i loved deeply, that ultimately realized they dont even want to try supporting me. which isnt that hard!!! just do what my dad does, which is make spaghetti (or buy it), have me do some task while spaghetti is cooking (usually chopping wood or something), and then watch a show/movie while eating spaghetti!!! like thats it. he lets me cry and freak out, leaves me be, reassure me he loves me, and make spaghetti. im not saying im expecting someone to do exactly what my dad does, but i just mean, someone who is willing to figure out how they can show they care in their own way.

Jes didnt want to do that. when i had meltdowns or shutdowns or ocd episodes, they would just leave me alone and go off doing fuck off whatever they wanted, come back and be like, "are you okay now?". my first ex would leave me alone too, come back and be like "why are you still crying. get over it.". and ive become accustomed to having to deal with moments on my own. which is really fucking hard. but i can do it. i know i can. it would just be nice to have someone who would be willing to try at least some of the time.

i just want to feel wanted. i want someone who loves all of me. just like i want to give someone all of my love. im tired of always feeling like im going to be alone the rest of my life. that nobody will ever want me. that i am unlovable. that i am nobody.

-siiiigggghhhhh- im fine. i will be fine. there is nothing wrong with being alone. i just need to come to terms with that.

[hiding-in-my-blanket-fort]

hey, i was just going through your cptsd tag and seeing other ppl who have been through the same helps me feel less alone and i stumbled onto your post abt.. wanting a supportive community, and i just want to give you a million hugs cause i still dream of something like that but reading the terrible "friends" you've had to make do with... you deserved so much better, truly. and i hope you find a good friend someday, someone who will appreciate your time and your sweet gifts (writing a whole book for your best friend is such a SWEET thing to do let me tell you i would've devoured the book in a day and any good friend would do the same and i'm just so so sorry that anyone could be that callous in the face of such a token of love.) i hope this doesn't come across as a weird message becz i really just wanted send you some love and yes. godd you deserve better and i hope you know that and i hope you get that someday soon ❤

Are you an actual honest-to-god angel, dear anon???? I’ve re-read your message countless times since I found it in my inbox this morning and it blows me away every time!!

First, I just want to say I’m so sorry to hear you’ve been through some tough shit to put you in the CPTSD tag to begin with. The effects of CPTSD are so insidious that it can be really hard to recognize what’s happening, let alone living with it every minute of the day. You are not alone at all and there are many people who are seeking healing and looking to create a healthy, positive, supportive environment after what they’ve endured. Even though I’m sorry to hear you’re dealing with this, it’s also a relief that you’re taking the steps to educate yourself, to connect with other people who understand what you’ve been through. Educating yourself and finding understanding the way you are now is the key to liberating yourself and building a better life. 💜

Second, that is quite possibly THE KINDEST thing I’ve ever heard in my life!! 💜 It’s not weird AT ALL. It’s incredibly validating and I think what you’ve done in your message - recognizing the pain someone has been through and wishing them better (without the toxic positivity of, “Oh, just try harder, you’ll find someone! You’ll see!” - that can really, truly go a long, long way to providing closure and healing for people.

(On top of that, my mind is totally boggled that you read my whole rambling vent post, let alone took the time to write such a thoughtful message! 😭)

In all honesty, I’ve reached a point where I’m learning that being without friends is okay. I was steeped in co-dependency growing up, catering to my mother’s every need. It’s good for me to not focus on someone else’s needs instead of my own. Sure, I’d like a supportive community, but I think a supportive community is actually more rare than simply going out and finding one like so many people make it out to be. I think it’s just as valuable to learn to walk away from toxic individuals and be alone, rather than forcing yourself to fit. Yeah, it’s a painful lesson, but I’d rather learn how to be alone rather than staying with those toxic “friends” and enduring that shitty treatment out of fear of being friendless.

Of course it would be fun to have someone to do things with. It’s hard to hear people talk about doing things with their “besties” like road trips or going to the movies as if it’s a totally common experience when I can’t relate at all.

But I’ve been hiking solo a lot lately and it has been so, so peaceful to be on the trail alone, with the rain in the leaves and the mist rolling in. I live for little pockets of peace like that, where all the stress melts from your body and there’s this calm that settles over you like everything is okay, right here, right now.

I’ve always felt so confused and scattered around people, scrambling to interpret social cues, hating cliques, feeling like the odd one out all the time, etc. I’m developing a newfound appreciation for solitude and how much value it has to offer.

In regards to the book, I have a happy note about that! Last year, I decided to go all-in and follow my dream of being a self published author. After only a year of writing full-time, I have a decent following of readers who love my books now. They’re not friends of course but it’s really incredible to see random strangers eagerly grab anything I write. I don’t have to beg them to read my stuff. I’ve even had a few readers contact me via email to tell me how much they liked my book (which blew my MIND).

For the people who didn’t appreciate what I had to offer, there are other people who will. And I don’t have to “try harder to make it work” the way my mother always insisted I needed to do. I think this is a part of my life where I’m learning that I don’t have to chase people and I’m practicing walking away from those who tear me down.

I hope you find some peace of your own, dear anon, on your journey of healing through CPTSD. Thank you so, so much for your kind, thoughtful words and I’m sending you a giant bear hug in return! 💜

#asks #replies #anonymous #gonna be thinking about this for days #probably months even #no one has ever been so validating and understanding as this

[balanceater]

Ace Byra's In-Game Dialogue

*In the opening of his story* Why... I thought I did everything right... Why did she reject me?

*In his ending* Maybe I can fix it.

*He picks up the halves of the clay heart and runs to the art classroom. He opens the door and sees Carla Labiano but does not recognize her from the events of Wonderworld at first* That girl... She looks so familiar...

*Sees the paint he needs to fix his clay heart near Carla* There's the paint I need.

*He tries to walk forward but feels his heart begin to pound the same way it did for the girl who rejected him. He sighs* I'll just wait until she leaves.

*He begins to walk away but suddenly sees Balan right in front of him and gasps* You were real!

*Balan pats his shoulder and tells him to not be afraid. He calms down, turns back to the classroom, and decides to talk to Carla*

*In his secret ending* E-Excuse me...

*Carla looks up and locks eyes with Ace. She says his Stage Name and he suddenly realizes* Cheerleader?

*Carla nods her head* So it wasn't a dream after all...

*He looks at the paint he needs to fix his clay heart* I-I was wondering... Did you... Want to make some pottery with me?

*Carla accepts his request as she goes to the crate to find some fresh clay. Ace looks down at the two halves and puts them together. He then says to himself* Balan... Thanks for helping us. Hope you and Lance can fix yourselves as well someday...

*In the bad ending* I'll be broken... Forever... What's the point of fixing it...

*If the player chooses to play as him* I'll try my best.

*If he sees Leo/Emma wear his default outfit* You could almost pass as me!

*Upon having his outfit changed* I actually don't look that bad.

*If Negati appear in front of him* Yikes!

*To the Tims* My mom would love you guys too if she was here.

*Upon wearing his representative costume* Is this what having a confidence boost feels like?

*Upon being defeated* No...

*Collecting items* Maybe I could make something out of these.

*If the player goes near his illusion* Hello.

*If the player is near his illusion and Negati appear* Run!

*If the player gets lost* Do you need help? *Points in said direction*

*If the player puts on his Representative Costume* I like that one.

*After being saved* I'm... I'm alive? I thought I actually disappeared! Thank you!

*Suddenly embraces the player. After a moment of silence, he lets go and turns embarrassed* S-Sorry... I'm not that good with social cues.

*He sees Balan and screams which causes Balan to jump back a bit. Once Balan explains he is an ally Ace calms down and sighs* It's okay. It's just... I'm kind of scared of... clowns.

*Ace puts his hands in his pockets* That girl you saw... That was Silva Sommer. She's a classmate of mine that I had a huge crush on. I was afraid to confess to her at first. Then I thought, "Why not make a physical example of my love for her?" Then I made the clay heart you guys saw. I didn't have enough time to paint it, so I just decided to give it to her as it was. She ended up rejecting me because she thought I was "just as worthless as my dumb art". After I dropped it and it broke in half, I think the shock made me black out and I ended up becoming that... monster.

*If the player gives a positive response* You liked my stuff? For some reason, art was always something I was good at. I did stuff like finger-painting, knitting, and crocheting. But for some reason, pottery was what got me into what I love to do most. One time I made this orange and white terracotta dimpled vase for my mom. It was a Mother's Day present. She really loved it. Still has it on a shelf in her room.

*If the player gives a negative response* You're saying I should give up? Sorry, but I'm not my Dad.

*If the player gives a neutral response* You're saying I should try again? Maybe... I'll think about it, okay?

#ace byra #balan wonderworld #balan wonderworld oc #dialogue

[a-simple-gaywitch]

Ohana

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer’s in love with his new neighbor- and her son that’s just like him

Word Count: 3234

Warnings: Typical CM stuff (Amplification specifically), Single Parent!Reader, slight angst

“Ohana means family. Family means no one gets left behind, or forgotten.” -Lilo and Stitch

~

Spencer remembered the day you moved in. He remembered you lugging boxes up five flights of stairs by yourself. When he saw you struggling with a heavy box, trying to find your key, he decided to be bold and help. 

“You look like you could use some assistance,” he said. “I’m, uh, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, I live right across the hall.”

“Dr. (Y/N) (L/N),” you said.

“Here, let me hold the box for you.”

“Careful, it’s heavy,” you said, shifting it into his arms. 

Spencer was jostled for a moment from the weight of the box, which was labeled (Y/N)’s Books. “So, MD or PhD?” he asked you as you searched for the right key. 

“PhD, I’m too squeamish to be in the medical field,” you said with a laugh. It was the most beautiful sound Spencer had ever heard. “What about you?”

“What? Oh,” Spencer shook his head, focusing back on the conversation. “PhDs.”

You stopped sorting through your keys and turned to face Spencer. “Plural? Holy shit, are you a genius or something?”

Spencer let out a small laugh before saying, “Yeah, technically. But I don’t think intelligence can be accurately quantified.”

You finally found the right key and sighed as you heard the lock click. “Um, you can set the box with the others by the bookshelf.”

Spencer turned to see a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, much like his own, with boxes upon boxes of books in front of it. Some were labeled Academics, some had the same label as the one he was currently holding, and some had Oliver’s Books scrawled across the top.

“So, uh, where are you moving from?” he asked you, following the maze of boxes to your kitchen.

You offered him a bottle of water. “Erie, Pennsylvania. I got a job at Georgetown as an Associate Professor in the history department.”

“Oh, I guest lecture there every once in a while. In the criminology department. Uh, what’s your concentration?” Spencer took a sip from the water bottle. 

“Medieval and Renaissance history,” you said. “I get to teach fun classes like Medieval Weaponry and Warfare.”

“Well, maybe I can sit in on that class someday.”

You smiled at him and that was when Spencer knew, you’d worked your way into his heart and you were never leaving.

~

Spencer remembered the first time he met Oliver. It was 53 hours, 27 minutes, and 15 seconds since the day he met you. He was coming home from an exhausting case when he saw you trying to balance paper shopping bags in your arms while opening your door. A small boy, no older than 6, stood behind you with oversized headphones and a mobile gaming system. He had a huge backpack on his shoulders.

“Ollie, take the keys. Ollie. Oliver.”

“You need some help?” Spencer asked, setting his go-bag in front of his door.

“Spencer, hi! Um, some help would be great.” Spencer took the bags from your arms so you could open the door. “Oh, uh, this is Oliver, my son.”

“Your-your son?” Spencer asked. If you had a son, it was likely you had a partner. 

“Yep, he’s my boy.” You tapped his shoulder and gestured for him to say hi. The boy gave a small wave before going back to his game.

Spencer cleared his throat. “So, uh, where’s-where’s his father?”

“California. At least, that’s where he went when he left us.” Your hand was resting on top of your son’s head. He looked just like you. “Here, can you just set the bags on the counter?” you asked after opening the door. Oliver started down the hallway when you grabbed the loop of his backpack. “Not so fast. You know the rules. Homework first, then you can play your game again.”

Oliver groaned and handed you his game. You set it on the counter next to the bags of groceries. 

“So, you’re raising him alone?” Spencer asked you. 

You nodded and started unpacking the bags. “Yeah. You know, it’s been hard, but I can’t imagine life without my Ollie. He’s my heart and soul.”

~

Spencer and you became friends quite quickly. He told you about his job as a profiler, and you told him about working at the university. He would come over after cases and watch movies with you and Oliver. He’d help you put groceries away and he’d help you with simple tasks. 

He also picked up on Oliver’s eccentricities. He reminded Spencer of his younger self. He didn’t talk much about kids at school and he breezed through schoolwork. His interests seemed heightened beyond what could be considered normal for a kid his age. One day, Spencer decided to ask about it as inconspicuously as he could. 

The two of you were playing a game of chess when he brought it up.

“So, Oliver seems to be doing pretty well in school. What grade did you say he was in, second?”

“Yeah, the school bumped him up a grade. They wanted me to move him up to fourth, but I know how important it is to have friends your own age. And he already struggles to make friends.”

“He does? Why?”

You sighed, moving your knight. “Check. He was diagnosed as autistic when he was three. He doesn’t quite get social cues so it’s hard for him.”

Spencer moved his bishop and took your knight. “I’m sure his dad leaving didn’t help.”

“Well, he, uh, he never actually met his dad. Leo left me when I was four months pregnant.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

You waved him off. “It’s fine. It was almost seven years ago. I moved on, and I learned to balance motherhood with college. I completed my undergrad when he was only a few months old and I worked on graduate school when he was a high-energy toddler. It just proved to me that I can do anything. Checkmate.”

~

Spencer was enjoying a rare day off on a Tuesday when his phone started ringing. He groaned, thinking it was Hotch with an urgent case. But when he saw your name on the caller ID, his face lit up. 

“(Y/N), hey!” he said. “What’s going on?”

“Ollie’s school just called me. He’s sick but I have classes and meetings all day so I can’t go get him and-”

“Are you asking if I can go get him?” Spencer said, cutting off your rambling.

“Yes! Could you, please? I’d be so so grateful.”

Spencer smiled, grabbing the spare key you gave him. “Of course.”

“Oh, thank you so much. There’s a spare car seat in the coat closet. I’ll call the school and let them know you’ll be picking him up. Thank you so much, Spencer.”

When Spencer got to the school, he was fidgety. He’d never spent time alone with your son before. And he wasn’t even sure if the kid liked him. 

He walked into the front office and said, “Hi, my name is Spencer Reid, I’m here to pick up Oliver (L/N)?”

“Oh, (Y/N) said you were coming to get him. If I could just see your ID?” the receptionist asked. Spencer nodded and pulled out his driver’s license. “Great, if you could just sign Oliver out on the clipboard here, you’ll be good to go.”

Spencer scribbled his signature on the clipboard and the receptionist got up to get Oliver from the back office. Oliver followed the receptionist, his backpack on his shoulders and a paper bag clutched in his hands. His face was pale and he was swaying slightly. 

“Hey, Ollie,” Spencer said.

“Hi, Spencer. Where’s my mom?”

“She got stuck at work, buddy. You’re gonna stay with me until she comes home, okay?”

Oliver nodded. “Okay.” He followed Spencer out of the school and climbed in the back of his car.

“Do you want me to put the window down?” Spencer offered, looking back at the boy in the mirror. When Oliver nodded, Spencer put his window down and pulled out of the parking lot.

After pulling into the parking garage, Spencer looked in the mirror again. Oliver was fast asleep, his head slumped against the door. Rather than waking the boy, Spencer unbuckled him and scooped him up in his arms. 

Oliver wrapped his little, sweaty arms around Spencer’s neck as he was carried inside. Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was how much he cared for the boy, but Spencer pressed a small kiss to the side of his head. Spencer dug your spare key out of his pocket and unlocked the door, setting Ollie down on the couch.

After covering him with a blanket, Spencer dug around in your kitchen for some ginger ale and crackers. After setting them on the coffee table, he heard a small voice say, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Spencer noticed Oliver watching him from the couch. He sat on the edge of the coffee table, handing Oliver the soda with a red bendy straw. “What do you mean, bud?”

“I know you like-like my mom. But you’re nice to me even when she’s not here. Matt didn’t do that. He called me names when Mom wasn’t around. He said I was weird.”

Spencer knew Matt was your ex from your time working at the Erie campus of Penn State. He was the first person you’d been with since Oliver’s father. And hearing how he treated Oliver didn’t sit right with Spencer.

Spencer sighed and looked at Oliver. “I’m nice to you because I like you, too. And I was a lot like you when I was your age.”

“You were?” Oliver handed the cup back to Spencer to set back on the table.

Spencer nodded. “People still think I’m weird. But being weird is good. How boring would the world be if everyone was normal?”

Oliver smiled. “It would be pretty boring,” he said.

“Get some rest, okay? It’ll help you feel better.”

You finally managed to sneak out of work and get home. When you opened the door, you saw Spencer sitting in the chair across from your sleeping son, reading a book. 

“Hey,” he said in a voice just above a whisper.

“Hey. How is he?”

“He has a low-grade fever and he hasn’t been able to keep anything in his stomach. I’ve been having him nibble on some crackers but even that doesn’t stay down.”

“Oh, my poor boy. Thank you for staying with him.”

“Of course. You know I’d do anything for you, for both of you.”

~

The team got back from a particularly rough case dealing with kids. Hotch gave them the weekend off to recuperate. 

“Anyone want to go grab a drink?” Derek offered to the group.

“Or five?” Emily added.

“What do you say, kid? You in?” Derek asked Spencer as the younger man packed up his bag. 

“Oh, no, sorry. I, uh, I have plans,” he said with a smile before slipping out of the office. The team watched him hurry out of the building before sharing glances with each other. 

“Spence has a girlfriend,” JJ realized. 

“Pretty boy has a girlfriend?”

“Think about it. When does Spencer ever have plans? And when was the last time he didn’t stay to do paperwork when we were given the time off?”

“And he upgraded his phone out of nowhere,” Emily chimed in. “He went from one that had only the bare essentials to a smartphone he texts on all the time.”

“We need to find out who this girl is,” Morgan decided. 

Spencer had been keeping you a secret from the team on purpose. Not because he was ashamed of you, or embarrassed, but because he knew the team saw him as the baby and they would be invasive if they ever found out. He didn’t want them to scare you away, he loved you too much to lose you. Though, he hadn’t said it out loud yet.

~

You and Spencer were walking down the street, Oliver asleep on Spencer’s back, snoring against his shoulder, his arms wrapped around Spencer’s neck.

“You have no idea how excited he is for you to see his science fair project,” you said. “It was all he could talk about all week.”

Spencer smiled and adjusted the boy on his back. “I think I’m just as excited to see his project, especially since he wouldn’t let me know anything about it.”

You reached the apartment complex and you dug your keys out of your bag. “Are you sure you can carry him up the stairs? I can wake him if you want me to.”

“No, it’s fine. I got him,” Spencer whispered, moving so that Oliver was clinging to his front rather than his back. He followed you up the stairs to your apartment. When you unlocked the door, he went straight to Oliver’s room and put the tired boy in his bed. He kissed Ollie’s forehead before flicking on his nightlight and leaving the room. 

“Oh, hey,” you said when Spencer came out of the room, “Is he still out?”

“Yeah. I think we might have put him in a coma.”

You laughed and kissed Spencer’s cheek. “Go get some sleep. I know you’re tired, too.”

“I’m not-”

“Spence, you nearly fell asleep at the movies tonight. Go.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll go. But not without a kiss goodnight.”

You gave Spencer a kiss before shooing him across the hall. When Spencer unlocked his door and flicked on the light, he saw his team sitting in his living room. 

“What the hell? What are you doing here? JJ, I gave you a key for emergencies!”

“This is an emergency!” Penelope said. “You have a girlfriend and you didn’t tell us!”

“Kid, please tell me she’s a single mother and you haven’t been keeping a family a secret from us for years,” said Morgan.

Spencer was still annoyed his friends broke into his apartment, but he couldn’t resist talking about you, especially when they’d already seen you. “Her name’s (Y/N), she moved in about a year ago with her son, Oliver. We’ve been dating for three months.”

“Spence, why didn’t you tell us?” JJ asked.

Spencer looked down at his shoes, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “I didn’t want you scaring her off. I love her. I love both of them. And you guys can be intimidating.”

~

“Spencer’s coming to the science fair tonight, right?” Oliver asked you as you got him ready for school. 

“That’s what he said,” you told him. “And you know Spencer likes to keep his promises.”

“I can’t wait to show him my mold project!”

“Okay, kiddo, we have to go. We don’t want to be late, do we?”

Meanwhile, Spencer was in the conference room at work, worrying about the latest case they’ve been presented. Someone was releasing a new strain of anthrax in public places around the DC area.

But under his stress over the case, he was worrying about you and Ollie. Maybe that’s why he worked so much harder on this one. 

He and Morgan were sent to the suspect’s house, and Spencer entered first. Looking around, he noticed his mistake. When Morgan made his way to the door, he slammed and locked the door. 

“Reid, what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry.”

Spencer was infected. He knew there was a large chance he would die, but he couldn’t stop working. He needed to find the antidote. HIs breathing was getting heavier and he felt sweat dripping down his face. He pulled out his phone and dialed. 

“Hey, Garcia?”

“Reid! Oh, my god, Derek told me what happened. How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

“That’s not important right now,” he said. “Um, can you- can you record a message for me? It’s for (Y/N) and Ollie.”

“Oh, uh, of course.” He heard her typing. “Okay. Go ahead.”

Spencer cleared the lump in his throat. “Uh, hi, (Y/N), it’s Spencer. Um, I-I wanted to let you know that, uh, I love you and…” he paused, taking a breath and blinking tears from his eyes, “and I’m so happy you let me into your life, into your family. And I want Ollie to know I love him, too. You- both of you- you’re my family.”

After that, things happened too fast. Spencer was being pulled out of the house and hosed down before being ushered to the waiting ambulance. He fell out of consciousness on the ride to the hospital. 

When he woke up in a hospital bed, Morgan was sitting by his side. 

“Are you eating Jell-O?” he asked, his voice cracking from being dry.

Morgan lit up with a smile. “Welcome back, kid.”

“Is there anymore Jell-O?”

Morgan chuckled. “You know, there’s some people here waiting for you.”

“What?”

Before Morgan could explain, you and Oliver burst into the room.

“Oh, my god, Spence!” You ran over and hugged him the best you could with the various medical equipment attached to him. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” you scolded. 

Oliver climbed onto the bed and curled up next to Spencer. “Yeah, don’t do that again,” he said. “How can I take you to Donuts with Dad if you’re dead?” He looked up at Spencer with his big doe-eyes and Spencer felt his heart break a little bit. 

“You-you want me to go to Donuts with Dad with you? Even though I missed your science fair?”

Ollie nodded. “I don’t care that you missed my science fair. I just care that you’re still here.” He looked up and Spencer and wrapped his arms around his torso. “I love you, Spencer.” He gave Spencer a light squeeze. 

Spencer smiled and ruffled his hair. “I love you too, Ollie.” He looked up at you. “And I love you, (Y/N).”

You smiled and gave Spencer a soft kiss. 

“Ewww!” Ollie squealed, making you both laugh. 

~

Spencer proposed to you about a year later. You’d both decided you didn’t want a huge wedding, just family and close friends. Rossi gave his backyard for you to use for the ceremony. It was simple and small, but it was special and wonderful. Spencer had flown Diana out, and you’d flown your parents out.

After the ceremony, Spencer announced that the both of you had a surprise for Ollie. He went inside Rossi’s house and returned with a manila envelope. He cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, in this envelope, I hold the most important document I have ever signed.” He opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper. He cleared his throat. “This certificate certifies that Oliver B. (L/N) is the adopted child of Spencer W. Reid,” he read.

Oliver’s jaw dropped. “What? You’re- what?”

“Remember all those Saturdays Penelope watched you while Spencer and I went out? This is what we were doing,” you told him. 

Oliver ran over to you and Spencer and wrapped you in hugs. The rest of Spencer’s team and your parents joined in. In just two years, your family had gone from just you and your son to more people than you knew what to do with. And that was more than okay with you.

~

“They may not have my eyes, they may not have my smile, but they have all my heart.” -Anonymous

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #x reader #em's fics

[curmudggeon]

Southern Hope (Arthur Morgan x Female Reader)

❝ If by any chance...in another lifetime, we happen to see each other again, I'll come and find you. And I'll make you fall in love with me, over and over again ❞

In which romance novelist, Mary-Beth under the pen name of Leslie Dupont, writes a coming of age love story based on her favourite gang members in the past, You and Arthur.

Trigger Warnings; Violence | Blood | Angst | Sexual Intentions

A/N: This is a project I've been working on for quite a while. I had the idea in mind when I had the chance to experience the musical composition of Aaron Copland's quintessential American Dream, 'Appalachian Spring' -one of my favourite pieces with such a beautiful storyline. And I wanted to retell it in the form of a book that is available on my Wattpad (ongoing) for you to enjoy from Mary-Beth's POV. I hope you show love to this book as much as I loved writing it. Have a sneak peek at the prologue!

Read on Wattpad here for more chapters to come!

PROLOGUE

Leslie Dupont; Mary-Beth Gaskill

Lemoyne, Saint Denis

November 1907

-

“Mademoiselle Dupont, we expect your next manuscript to be submitted by next summer. Now is not the time to be reminiscing.”

Here we go again

Mary-Beth sighed as her editor, Céline Laurent, had warned her once more for not meeting the deadline to her books. She was in a crucial position in her life. After her debut as a romance novelist, The Lady of The Manor was an instant best-seller across the country. It was the kind of thing she specializes in, silly ol’ romances.

“I promise you, I’ll get it done by then.” Or maybe, at least not for now. She shouldn't have promised something she couldn’t keep, especially in the meantime.

“I’ll take your word for that, if you don’t meet the deadline by then. Y’know what will happen to your contract, Leslie.” Céline stood at the door frame of Mary-Beth’s office with hands on her hips and raised eyebrows.

She knew exactly what she had meant. In fact, she knew the consequences on the back of her head when she first signed that contract with her publishing company. Two more books were requested of her. Or else she would be evicted of her apartment and be forced to live along the streets of Saint Denis for the rest of her life. A life of luxury slipping between her fingers.

“Yes, ma’am,” Mary-Beth disclaimed, the moment her editor slammed the door as she left her office. Heaving yet another exaggerated sigh, she crosses her arms on the grand rosewood desk, flopping her head on top of it. “What am I going to do now…” She murmured into the crevice of her arms.

Mary-Beth was in the middle of a major writer’s block for a few months now. She lost sight of that imaginative space of hers, consisting of the most swoon-worthy romances to the picture-perfect life she portrayed through her characters. A part of Mary-Beth that her readers absolutely adored. But, her head was now a clouded space of everlasting void. It was difficult for Mary-Beth to come into terms of writing again, but she couldn’t quite identify what had put her into this position.

Once she gathered the courage to write again, it all came crashing down like violent tidal waves when she came face to the daunting blank page of nothingness —almost drowning her.

It was as simple as that. Come to work, have a cup of tea, sit down, and a blank page.

Every. Damn. Time.

Maybe it was because she was already nearing her mid-thirties, and she hasn’t found someone to sweep her off her feet. Maybe it was when she first held Tilly’s baby that she found the need to be a mother someday. Maybe it was the overwhelming response towards her writing, she felt the need to hide away into an abyss. Or maybe she couldn’t stop thinking about the time she had come across John again after so many years that the memories just come flooding back.

Or maybe, just, maybe. It was because it’s November.

The most dreaded time of the year. November, in which the seemingly fearsome Van der Linde gang had officially broken up. Guns were fired, ties were broken and deaths were grieved. An unforgettable, painful memory.

She would often think about campfire songs, the girls and, Miss Grimshaw’s constant nagging about undone chores. Oh, how best of friends Céline and Miss Grimshaw would have been if she had heard Mary-Beth had been slacking again. It was her coping mechanism, think more about the good times to get rid of the bad ones.

Mary-Beth remembered when she took in her hands at being a matchmaker. Prancing around the camp, she would eye her two best contenders. You and Arthur.

She knew from the start when you had laid your eyes on each other for the first time, she could see through the inexplicable connection in between. You were both extremely awkward when it came to small-talk or addressing each other as you walked by across camp. However, it never stopped Arthur to come to camp as soon as he could just so he could see you, even just for a second.

The conversation would often start with Arthur while on his way to Dutch’s tent,

“Hey,”

“Hey.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Yea sure…”

—and that would be it.

At the same time, every single day, at the course of sunset.

You poor socially inept fools.

Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen would always see the interaction happen in the middle of their afternoon chores. Grinning from ear to ear. They would elbow each other whenever there was something different about the correspondence.

One time, you would walk past him, suddenly kissing him on the cheek and scurrying away.

Arthur would stop in his tracks, stunned, with a hand-over where your kiss tingled on his skin. Then he would look back at you as you laid down, smiling to yourself against a tree with a book in your hands. And Dutch would yell his name, knocking him out of his stupor before he noticed he was staring for a little too long.

The girls would start applauding for your heroic performance, it was like a groundbreaking plot twist Mary-Beth couldn’t wait to write about when the idea came into mind.

The both of you were like a walking excruciating slow, slow-burn romance novel. That was when Mary-Beth would cue in her entrance as matchmaker as soon as the interaction slowly died down. Your story had to have a happily ever after in her book.

She would pester you and Arthur separately, mentioning each other’s names and slipping in hints of romantic intentions from the other side so the both of you can address whatever this relationship was.

Mary-Beth knew it was a mission accomplished the night Sean was rescued back to Horseshoe Overlook. When she stood aside of the camp watching Dutch and Molly ballroom dancing into the moonlight, she caught a glimpse of you and Arthur behind them. Running into the woods, hand in hand, giggling to yourselves like prepubescent teenagers.

After that night, it was a considered job well done when your chance encounters slowly turned into planned ones. He would take you on dates, and you would show him affection like nobody’s business. A perfect couple, your American dream.

Until it became a nightmare.

And Arthur had passed,

your Arthur.

Ever since then, Mary-Beth wondered what had happened to you. Were you still alive after all these years? She couldn’t imagine how hard you must be coping with the news. Or what if you didn’t know at all? Even when she asked John and Tilly, they said you disappeared that night he passed.

Not even a single trace. Where were you?

Mary-Beth dismissed the thought out of her head, lifting her head away from the desk. She had to let go of these memories for her own well-being. For what seemed like yesterday were merely years ago. But it couldn’t have hurt to reminisce just a bit, for old times sake.

The story of You and Arthur was unwritten, left to collect dust from the lack of content. The perfect example of a sepia-tinted photograph, forgotten. Mary-Beth believed the both of you deserved something much more than a devastating ending. She wasn’t as ruthless as the other authors she had met that held an iron fist when killing off their characters. Mary-Beth wasn’t like that.

And the idea came to mind. She was a romance novelist for a reason; to fulfil all the possibilities for the unconditional love you shared.

And so Mary-Beth picked up her beautiful fountain pen,

She began to write on the great desk in her quiet room.

To write the most beautiful story of the century,

You and Arthur. Arthur and you.

A perfect couple. The American Dream.

A life that could have been so much more,

A life to remember…

#rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan ff #arthur fanfic #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan fic #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #red dead #red dead redemption 2 #red dead fanfic #rdr2 fandom #rdr2 tag #rdr2 community #rdr2 fanfic #red dead fandom #arthur morgan x y/n #mary beth gaskill #van der linde gang #rdr ff #arthur morgan fanfic

[bigskydreaming]

Headcanon that everyone within the family may think of Dick as the one most in their father’s favor, but Dick is keenly aware that the general public thinks of him as their father’s ‘Consolation Prize.’

After all, when from their perspective he’s the one Bruce raised since he was eight as his ward, with that dissolving when he was eighteen and very little perceived contact between the two of them for years after that, while Jason was adopted soon after being taken in and Dick was then later adopted years after Jason’s death, without any public fanfare.....

What does that look like other than Bruce ‘settling’ for the son who didn’t appear to be his first choice, just chronologically first, once he lost Jason but still needed/wanted an heir, as he was getting older and the general public still didn’t know yet how closely tied Tim was to the family or that it wouldn’t be long after this that Bruce adopted him too?

Now granted, you can definitely perceive the above as overly angsty and not the only way this situation was likely to be perceived outside the family, but my point is more that like.....nobody ever presumes that the general public are overly kind or generous in their views or assumptions about the Wayne family behavior. I just don’t buy that people assumed there was some optimistic explanation for the way things appeared here, or that people just went “oh its probably because the kid who grew up in that house the longest just doesn’t WANT to be adopted by the billionaire and have all the security that brings, and that’s also clearly why he lives in Bludhaven of all places and a shitty apartment building at that.”

I mean, no matter what WE the readers may know of Dick’s personal priorities and how little he cares about where he lives or that Bruce would have willingly paid for him to have a better place to live if he really wanted it, is that what people are most likely to assume, based on appearances?

Anyway, I’m just saying, I bet it bugs the crap out of Dick to hear his siblings casually refer to him as so obviously enjoying favored son status and being the clear apple of Bruce’s eye, as he’s like, cue internal monologue: gee, sure wish I was as confident of that back during the years he seemed to want nothing to do with me.

Like I’ve said before, I think Dick isn’t actually super insecure and his insecurities such as they are mostly revolve around how his family and friends perceive him, not the general public.....BUT I do think that with as high profile as the Waynes are, there’s no way that nobody picked up on how little contact Dick and Bruce had in the continuities where they literally went over a year without even speaking to each other....and like, felt free to draw their own conclusions.

 And I do think this is also part of why I default to thinking a lot of canon takes and headcanons tend to gloss over how shitty Gotham public could be in their views/treatment of Dick. Like just because Dick was basically trained from birth to be able to work a room and entertain people while in their direct presence, that didn’t actually make him ‘one of them’ in their eyes, and I reeeeeeaally don’t think you can actually underestimate the pettiness and jealousy one percenters feel when they see someone they inherently view as lesser than them - as they would’ve viewed both Dick and Jason due to their lower class births - like....’leap frogging’ over them into greater wealth via being taken in by Bruce. 

Like, idk, maybe it just comes from having been a scholarship kid who went to a richy rich private high school attended mostly by the children of senators and hotel-chain owners, lol, but like.......I can not for a second picture Gotham’s upper class actually LIKING Dick or being as charmed by him as they frequently are depicted as, just because Dick knows how to be charming and likable. Like they might play it that way when in public at a gala, for appearances or whatever....but the second he turned around they’d be badmouthing him at juuuuust a high enough volume to ensure he’d be able to HEAR them but not be able to call them on it without it looking like he went back and provoked a scene over something ‘nobody else around them heard them say’ or whatever. Just to make sure that no matter how well he came across in public social settings, he never ‘forgot his place’ or whatever or forgot that they were all too aware of it too.

And also also, it always kinda bemuses me that as much focus as the Court of Owls and Talons get in Dick’s narratives in canon and fic, that we’ve barely ever seen any examination of what the Court retroactively means for Dick’s years growing up around upper class Gothamites who likely included more than a few Court members.....like, we KNOW years later that like, all along there were these people who even without knowing who Batman and Robin were, like, knew Dick Grayson was their ‘Gray Son’ and intended to claim him as their weapon someday, and you can’t tell me that wouldn’t have factored into how they viewed and interacted with a child and teenage Dick Grayson as they attended many of the same social gatherings and functions. OR that Dick himself in the aftermath of the Court of Owls reveal, didn’t look back at his OWN childhood and reflect on how many creepy or uncomfortable encounters he had with various socialites that left him feeling decidedly skeeved out and not a fan of how they were looking at him or things they might have said to him, thinking themselves oh so clever for alluding to things he had no idea about......like, I imagine there had to be more than a few encounters from his younger years that always stuck with him, and after the Court of Owls revelation like....looked TOTALLY different to him, especially if he happened to know for sure that some of those very people were in fact Court members. BUT I DIGRESS.

All in all though it all circles back to the same thought for me.....people might have been polite to Dick’s face when he was growing up, but they most likely had plenty of shit to say the second his back was turned, and I doubt they were afraid to be overheard by him. Especially in his later years, once people noticed how distant he and Bruce seemed to be, and thus perceived that as meaning that nineteen year old Dick Grayson wasn’t as ‘protected’ by Bruce the way he was when he was younger.....meaning the people who were most jealous of Dick’s ‘catapulting’ up the social ladder and eager to knock him down a peg because of that, like....probably would have looked at the relative lack of contact between he and Bruce as far as anyone could publicly tell, and felt emboldened enough by that to up their snide whisper game with shit like gossipping about how oh, the Grayson boy may be back in Gotham again, but we all know he’s just poor Brucie’s consolation prize anyway, why, if he really cared all that much about the boy, he’d hardly have ever let him run off to Bludhaven of all places, without even making sure to staple the advantages and opportunities granted by the Wayne name to him the way he made sure to right off the bat with the younger one.....

So yeah. There’s my angsty musings on how Dick likely is perceived by Gotham public at large, and how his interactions with them - especially when NOT around Bruce and Jason and the rest of his family....probably very much does not match up with what they assume public perception of Dick is, given that in their eyes ‘everybody loves Dick Grayson,’ but in Dick’s experience ‘everybody may be charmed by Dick Grayson while he’s doing his best to be charming,’ but don’t mistake that for acceptance. Not when Gotham’s public are just as likely to dismiss him as the second choice Wayne heir and consolation prize to make themselves feel more important/elevated than him the second their own insecurities have them feeling intimidated by the wealth, power and prestige Dick does actually share in by virtue of being part of Bruce’s family.

[vaxxy-the-raven]

Thinking about Vax losing a leg during battle again.

Thinking about Percy making him a wheelchair, then later crutches and a metal leg.

Thinking about Vax carving pretty designs into Percy's workshop desk while he waits on Percy adjusting things for him before he can test them out, the two talking mindlessly over red wine as they do this.

Them bonding and growing closer over their harsh yet artistic minds, promising to make something pretty together someday just because the can.

Then they start hugging more, lean on each other physically more, Vax grabbing Percy's hand while he infodumps to avoid happy flapping and knocking something over.

Thinking about Percy gushing to Keyleth about the way Vax makes him feel, Keyleth grinning and telling him he should tell Vax about his feelings before he looses his chance to do so.

Meanwhile Vax tells Vex, getting all giddy and bouncy as he can't sit still from joy, he just loves Percy so much and he doesn't know what to do without ruining a good friendship, then Vex telling him there's no time like the present to just go for it and tell the man about how he feels.

Vax and Percy go out for dinner alone together - Keyleth and Vex were supposed to go with them, but had both bailed to go on a date of their own.

There's red wine and good food, both men laughing softly as they gossip about their fellow team members.

But then Vax talks about the gossip he heard from Shaun Gilmore during their last walk around Emon together and Percy starts to get cold feet.

He could never compare to Gilmore, the glorious man and his bond with Vax untouchable, but then Vax says something about Percy's eyes reminding him of the beautiful ocean separating Tal'Dorei from Marquet and Percy becomes a blushing mess with a heavy tongue.

Vax gets shy when Percy goes quiet, worrying he's over stepped some not-yet mentioned boundary - He's always struggled with catching onto social cues and never really understood social rules, but Vex has been helping him get better at them, so he's worried he's lost progress.

And seeing Vax shut down makes Percy panic - Had he said or done something wrong? Was Vax growing overstimulated? Was something else wrong?

And it gets awkward and quiet for a bit until the waiter brings dessert over for them.

And then Vax comments on the texture of the cake sponge, equating it to a sad pancake, and Percy can't stop laughing.

Vax experienced the world differently from him and he loves that, he absolutely loves Vax's little comments on things he finds weird or cool.

And Vax flusters, trying to brush Percy off, but then Percy accidentally grabs Vax's hands and now blue irises are glued to hazel ones, both unblinking.

And Percy can't help but blurt out, "By the Gods, you're beautiful tonight."

And Vax has become a tomato, looking away shyly as he quips in response, "You're quite handsome yourself, Freddie."

Percy chokes on wine, his face going about the same colour as the drink in his glass.

Then Vqx timidly looks back, "I've always thought that, though, not just tonight."

And Percy lets out a soft "Oh."

Vax is trying to read Percy, who always has on a mask of calm and cool, but it's actually harder now that the man is actively emoting at him.

And Percy sighs, his hand coming up to cup Vax's face.

"And I always thought you were the prettiest, but don't go yelling your sister that."

And Vax laughs softly, smiling warily at that, "Wouldn't ever dream of it, Perce, I like having you around, after all."

"Good." Percy laughs lightly, eyes crinkling up, "And for the record, I quite like having you around as well, Vax."

"You're inventions are pretty cool, I always get so excited seeing you at work." Vax admits, grinning a bit.

Percy smirks, "And I love watching you dash across the battlefield like a bullet from one of my guns, slicing down foes with a few strategically placed cuts with your daggers."

"You have a wonderful voice, you could read the daily obituaries to me and it would sound like a melodic song." Vax purrs lightly, eyes lidding slightly as he heart skips a beat, finally holding Percy's hand back and intertwining their fingers together.

"And I love how gentle it is you are with kids and animals, it makes me feel safe and innocent all over again." Percy admits next, bashful.

"You're strong arms and big hands could snap my spine in half easily and I'd thank you." Vax chuckles a bit.

"Gods, you don't know what it is you do to me, Vax."

"Why don't you show me, Percival? I suck at book learning, but when the lesson is physical I'm a fast learner."

"You'll give me a heart attack."

"I think I'll settle for just stealing your heart, Perce."

"I think I'd be alright with that."

"Good, because it's my new life goal, your heart is mine."

"As if it wasn't already?"

"Oh? Percy, please-"

"I mean it, you're the starlight in my night sky."

"Percy..."

And they just stare a while, Vax flushed oh-so prettily, Percy sporting a healthy blush too.

They don't realise that they've been leaning in more and more since the conversation took a turn in the best direction.

Matte black painted lips, soft and plump, meet thin and rough ones used to being chewed on and left to dry up.

The kiss is short and nowhere near perfect, but Vax is swooning now and Percy is grinning like a motherfucker.

"Waiter, the bill please, I think I'll be having dessert elsewhere." Percy calls out, shameless.

It makes Vax laugh out loud in a way that has the gunslinger's poor heart stuttering.

They're quickly seen to, paying and leaving swiftly with their arms linked and spirits light.

If they stumble into an inn on the way home, Percy trying to kiss Vax to death, well-

Vox Machina don't need to know about it.

But getting home the next day proves that it's not just in little towns that gossip blooms and spreads like wildfire.

But between Scanlan rapping and hollering his support, to Keyleth giving them a grin and a thumbs up, to Vex pulling Percy aside for a shovel talk...

And with the way Grog smacks Vax's back and says "Congratulations!" while Pike gives Percy another shovel talk that puts Vex's to shame...

They think maybe it's okay.

They can't say "I love you" just yet, but they'll get there some day, just you wait.

Because they day it happens is going to be great.

#critical role #critical role au #vax'ildan #percy de rolo #perc'ildan #percyvax #vaxival #critical role headcanons #neurodivergent vax #disabled vax #background vexleth #background keyleth x vex #background keyleth x vex'ahlia #lynias shut up challenge #long post

[reddpropaganda]

It's interesting how like,,, mythical/mystical? creatures in the ac universe, as far as we know, are rare to come by. Nook and the twins are the only tanuki, and Redd is the only kitsune for example.

Now, there might be a fair population of them around living life same as other animals but we just don't see them.

But what if instead mythical creatures in the ac universe are regarded with suspicion and stigma and treated like second-class-citizens? And that's part of the reason why Tom Nook had it so rough growing up?

We don't really see mythical species because they're living out of slums and struggling for work as other animals think they're scary or strange.

Cue the only other business partner he could find was another yokai-- Redd. And that's why they became friends, having shared a mutual experience with prejudice. It's implied Nook has a past with Sable as well, and they grew up in the same town together. It's then revealed her parents died when Mabel was still very young.

Was it from overworking or a work related accident trying to keep their three daughters taken care of? If so, it's a tragedy to see Sable copy this pattern of working tirelessly at her machine, and... not much else. Even ignoring customers to work as her social life suffers.

Perhaps poor, working class animals and mythical animals are kinda put into the same boat when it comes to classism and so, are more likely to be empathetic of eachother. But Tom Nook leaves for the city anyway.

Was it more openly discriminatory there?

If this is any indication to think so.

That's why Nook takes in Timmy and Tommy. Because without him they,, don't really have a fighting chance out there. It's rough for mystical creatures. He couldn't leave them there in good conscience. Redd can't seem to stick to a legitimate gig and is constantly poor. Himself, broken by the harsh realities of city life.

And what happened to Timmy and Tommy's parents???

The world of Animal Crossing is supposed to be this peaceful utopia land where bad things don't really happen-- or is that only what we're supposed to see? It's odd that both of them are out of the picture and that no other living relative could take them in?

Did they mayhaps leave young Timmy and Tommy someplace they knew the successful Mr. Nook might find them in hopes that they'd be adopted for a chance at a better life? Is this why, despite having no blood ties to him, they're referred to as his "nephews"?

For Tom Nook hasn't forgotten his roots. He still feels a kinship to other tanuki and knows their struggle. He still speaks the old language and respects his ancestors.

He's promised himself to look after these children-- not as their parent, but for the misfortunate parents who had to give them up. He doesn't see himself as having taken their place, as it's likely they're still alive somewhere and could someday be reunited.

Strangely coincidental is that only Tom Nook, the Able sisters, and Redd are known to have had "rough childhoods" compared to all the other animals we see breezing through life, able to afford cushy housing who are financially stable enough to relocate at the drop of a hat with the biggest worries on their plates being "do I wanna do (leisurely activity) or other (leisurely activity) today?"

Joan, the old turnip seller before Daisy Mae, talks about Redd like this:

And yeah, we all know Redd in particular is "untrustworthy," but... why she just start being racist against all foxes in general ajsjs.

(Which, mind you, he's a kitsune in the Japanese.) So she's really saying "don't trust those damned kitsune."

And look at this:

"Wears a raccoon suit." Which sounds like a roundabout way of saying "he's not really one of us, but just looks like it" since tanuki appear like regular raccoons.

The wiki interprets it as "oh haha they think he's a human man in a raccoon suit that's funny" but like,,, why would they think that. What behaviour, displayed by Nook specifically, would be "human-like" when they all act like humans? They'd all be accusing eachother of being humans in animal suits. So that doesn't make much sense.

Maybe that's why Isabelle and himself are his only employees. Because most other animals just aren't that willing to work so closely with a tanuki. He relies on her, not out of choice, but obligation as there's so few options. That would make her a pretty good ally™ in this case.

I adore their dynamic! Since in folklore, dogs are loathed enemies of tanuki and they kinda flipped that on its head in a nice way.

Speaking of Isabelle, her and her brother, Digby are the only different dog breeds we see-- aside from the mysterious K.K Slider, (a Jack Russel) and the only animal with hands. Maybe they're the only few in the world but are able to get by blending in as others obliviously believe they're regular dogs with weird ears or something.

Shih tzu have mythos attached to them as well in which they're able to turn into giant tigers when threatened sjdjs, so maybe Isabelle receives some of that flack and fear, too?

In fact, villagers describe her as going "Isabellistic," framing her irrationally when they "break a window," something that could reasonably incur anger.

Does it imply villagers can be callous and rude because they have no sense of consequence from living such privileged lives?

I hate reading so into the lore of such a happy, soft game but ajsjs I also love seeking the depth and angst™

#thoughts? #i wanted to add more pictures but ran out of space #eh #sorry it's a little wordy #this is more like a bunch of theories in one #anyway #animal crossing #tom nook #able sisters #crazy redd #new horizons #acnh #acnl #new leaf #acww #ac

[nox-artemis]

Kentaro Miura

It took me awhile to get my thoughts in order. Honestly, as well intentioned as they are, a constant stream of fan tributes on Twitter and Tumblr more-or-less telling me how to process “The End” of Berserk with Miura’s death didn’t do a lot to console me, so I had to take some huge steps away from social media and only conversed my feelings with my other close Berserk fan-friends.

It was very surreal waking up yesterday morning to a friend messaging me simply saying, “did you hear the news?” When shit like that happens, I go onto my Google stories app and scroll through. I didn’t find anything really worth getting too upset over (maybe a bit sad that Queen Elizabeth II’s doggo died?) so it hit me to check my Twitter feed instead.

And that’s when I saw it.

We all know death is inevitable, and life is pretty much spent prolonging the point to that inevitability as well as preparing ourselves for when it happens to us or someone close to us. Being part of the Berserk fandom was the only time we all collectively had this on our mind not only for someone else but for someone we never met or really knew that much about. We only knew Miura through his magnum opus – and that was good enough for us. And no matter how much we discussed the worst-case scenario – pondering how the story would continue and how WE would continue – it still wasn’t enough to prepare us for this amount of shock. Hearing Miura had died and that the Berserk we know and love under his direct supervision is over truly felt like losing a long-lost friend.

It wasn’t just that the Berserk we know of is “over”, but that Miura didn’t have to die. He was only 54: not a young age, but not an old age either, especially by today’s standards. He could have seen the end to his magnum opus the way he envisioned it, yet he died of something so avoidable but is only brought about by a great deal of stress (from what I’ve read). It was always a morbid open rumor that so many of Miura’s infamous hiatuses were actually mental and/or physical health breaks, so the older or more conscious of us fans, while always eager and anxious for a new chapter, learned to not take them so personally. Miura was a spellbinding artist and storyteller, but he was also a human with his own life and conflicts that he was entitled to address at his own pace. This isn’t meant to blame anyone (at the very least, maybe to address some societal/industry issues), but it’s troubling enough to remind everyone – as the story of Berserk has demonstrated – that you need to take care of yourself physically and mentally, and while everyone struggles in life, you don’t have to struggle alone.

I always despised this weird cult of youth that insinuates that life isn’t worth pursuing once you hit your mid-thirties, and how some people so engulfed in their youth insist that they wouldn’t mind dying by the age of 50 or 60. It’s a shame when people live by that because there’s so much to live for beyond your youth – as I’ve learned, I only started buckling down when I transitioned into my thirties. Miura could have had a longer life ahead of him, going beyond Berserk and into his other endeavors, professional and personal, but that will unfortunately never happen now.

Everyone knows I have a lot of thoughts and opinions on Berserk. Most of you found out about me through my blogging several years ago, and I’m pretty proud that I was never the sort of fan that groveled at Miura’s feet and treated Berserk as some untouchable holy book: there were things I disliked about Berserk and things that disappointed me about Miura’s writing, but there were SO MANY MORE THINGS that I loved about Berserk and was proud of Miura for, and I wished him to continue his advancement in narrative growth. He did so and we watched it happened.

And, by meeting so many friends and acquaintances through the fandom, we saw a lot in ourselves change too. It’s surreal how we always joked that it would be one of us fans who would die before Berserk ended or the worst-case scenario of Miura dying; maybe some of us secretly preferred for that happen. But when we weren’t waiting around for another chapter… look at how much we’ve done with our lives! We graduated high school, undergrad, grad school, started and advanced our careers, traveled the world, got together, popped out a kid or two!... And while we experienced a lot of downfalls and tragedies that coincide, can you believe how much we have accomplished together?

We were all personally inspired, motivated, persuaded by Berserk in different ways: a lot of us were inspired for the better and admittedly, some for the not-as-good (if spending countless hours on Tumblr has taught me, there were definitely some toxic fan takeaways that had to be confronted). I’m not going to go to the point of saying that I now live my life by Berserk’s philosophy to a T or live as a reflection of certain characters (because I’m pretty sure that Miura was trying to tell us to NOT live your life like some particular characters) but it certainly helped to brings some aspects of life and existence into perspective, through the lenses of so many characters. Berserk also inspired me to write more, an already favorite pastime of mine, and how I should go about writing and planning a story, taking cues from Berserk on how to and how NOT to write and approach things in my own way, which I think is for the best in the long run. I can only dream that I’ll be published someday – which doesn’t have to be a pipe dream because it’s still much more possible than impossible. And so many other have done the same, creating our own stories and works.

And OF COURSE Berserk inspired me to be a little bit badass from time to time in moments of frivolity and seriousness – but it reminds us all that being badass and being a kinder person who tries to become the best version of themselves are not mutually exclusive. We definitely need more of that in today’s world.

We all made our own little bonfires of dreams happen, and because of Berserk existing, there will be a lot more beginnings than endings, and I don’t see a lot of bonfires being extinguished anytime soon. Miura poured his heart and soul into Berserk and its characters, and while he has passed on, his characters and lessons will live on through us and everything we create and how we live our lives (hopefully for the better).

I was happy to share all of my thoughts with you all – and I’ll continue to do so, since the mythos of Berserk has been a major backdrop of my creative mind for over fifteen years now and there is still so much to dissect and speculate. Personally, I don’t see Berserk ending just yet, if only because I’d be surprised that Miura or his publisher didn’t have some Operation London Bridge type plan in place in the event that this happened (Berserk is, after all, a major title that most likely brings Young Animal a lot of revenue). Again, I never treated Miura or Berserk as divine untouchables, so if there are plans in place to continue Berserk without Miura (BUT with his permission) or just on how to wrap up the story to give it a fulfilling conclusion, I personally would be okay with it (as a friend of mine put it, it’d be more of a tribute than an imitation). Going beyond our lifetimes, works will continue to be interpreted and reinterpreted as they have since time immemorial; perhaps Berserk will reach that point someday.

Honestly, and many have thought so too, Berserk was also meant to be cosmic level in both scale and concept. The plot is so grand and Byzantine that, even under Miura’s direct supervision, I always had a hard time envisioning how a story of this scale would conclude. As much as we love to hate him, a final showdown between Guts and Griffith seems too simple, too “good vs. evil”-esque for Berserk. Maybe having a low-key, vague but optimistic and bittersweet wrap up is what is best for Guts, Casca, and their new-found family. But that’s just another one of my fan speculations.

Regardless or what is to become of Berserk now, I think it’s safe to give adulations. We all came across Berserk at different times in our lives and stuck with the story for different reasons. For some of us, it was just another series that our friend from the campus anime club recommended to us; for others, we were drawn in from a morbid curiosity of its dark notoriety in anime circles. A few of us read for the gratuitous violence and the clout (because we all know you’re so deep and hardcore [/sar]), but a lot more of us read for the journey and the characters that we became a part of. The heaviness of Berserk made us confront a lot of trauma and even relive our own. For some of us, understandably, it was not a good idea to dive deeper (and maybe somethings could have been handled better); for the rest of us, it helped us cope, if not entirely through the story itself, than through the support network we made for ourselves in this fandom and its many realms (some realms, I argue, are more caring and nurturing than others).

From time to time, I always wonder if I would ever “grow out” of Berserk. There were indeed several times I took a step away from fandom and have tried to reduce my exposure to the story - but I always came back in some way, because the essence of Berserk has never left me and never will. Humorously I envisioned myself actually forgetting about Berserk for several decades, decades in which I work at my career, raise my family, mourn my elders, but continue living my life, only to go on the future internet in my mid-50s to find out… Miura is STILL working on that ending, sitting at his desk in the same pose as that famous monochrome capture of him, only he’s grayed and wrinkled, like the great Miyazaki.

The possibility of that future is over, but there are so many others.

#berserk #berserk stuff #kentaro miura #rip kentaro miura

[moonlightsapphic]

I’ve always been a tiny bit allergic to weddings.

I grew up with social anxiety, and desi weddings involve days of (often quite sexist) loud, flashy, stuffy and crowded ceremonies, usually with unbelievably long guest lists of extended family, friends and colleagues. I had to be dragged to them as a child.

So whenever someone told me, “I’d love a big wedding,” I’d get skeptical. Surely no one wants to be put through an experience that horrendous?

I was nineteen and with my boyfriend of three years at the time when an older friend said to me. “You know, I used to think I hated big weddings too. But turned out, deep down I was just hesitant to think of marrying the guy I was with. Our relationship was extremely toxic. But I wasn’t ready to admit that yet. Living in quiet denial and telling myself I just wanted a court marriage was easier.”

That was just one of the many, many little signs, events and ordeals that lead to my painful, drawn-out breakup with my high school boyfriend that I’d thought I’d marry someday.

I have zero regrets. I’m glad I escaped his emotionally abusive clutches.

Right now, I’m seven months into a relationship with my best friend of three years. I was twenty and she was twenty-one when we began dating. We were no longer teenagers. We each knew what we wanted in a partner, and we found it in each other. Things just make sense with her in a way some part of me thought it would be near-impossible to find in another human being. We are undoubtedly soulmates, weirdly similar, and have always been crazy fans of each other’s successes. We make each other laugh until we can’t breathe, we make each other feel safe and wanted in terms of physical intimacy, we follow up on each other’s lives constantly around a whopping twelve-hour time difference. (Cue the long-distance lesbian relationship memes. I live abroad for university.)

I wouldn’t be exaggerating if I said she teaches me, with every passing day, what it is to work together to gently nurture a healthy relationship, and watch it gradually grow.

(PSA: That amazing girlfriend whom you’re too scared to be gay for? Girl, ask her out. In most cases, you’ll have more to gain than to lose.)

My girlfriend and I come from different religious backgrounds (a big no-no in our country, usually). She’s Hindu and I’m Muslim, but it’s amazing how little that matters to us. The way we personally practice our faiths, the lifestyles that we would like to have in the future are strikingly similar: vegan, as environment-friendly as possible, a couple furry friends (she’s a dog-person and I’m a cat person), a child (hopefully a daughter!) maybe when we’re equipped to have one, a cozy little home of our own in a quiet city abroad, traveling to new places in vacations, working for social welfare in the sidelines of our STEM jobs …

What I want to say here is this: If we were a heterosexual couple, we’d be mapping out our futures already, and telling our families (and friends) about each other.

But we’re not. We’re a gay couple in a country where queer people can be killed for coming out. Only two of our mutual friends know about us. We’re afraid that any more and the word may spread through town.

Neither of our families will ever understand.

We will be labeled crazy, perverted, in need of help, gone rogue from western influence, irresponsible, selfish traitors that are blind to our families’ hurt.

I still do not dream of a big wedding.

This time, I simply do not have the luxury to be able to picture it, in even my wildest dreams.

But the thought of, maybe someday, saying “I do,” to the love of my life in the quiet office of a court Justice; the thought of, maybe someday, looking into her chestnut eyes and knowing we’re going to be outcasts together, to have and to hold from that day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish—It keeps me going. It keeps my fighting through every bad day to next good one when I’ll get to tell her again I love her, and know that—even though I’m young, even though there’s such a long, uncertain road ahead of me—I have never meant it more for anyone else.

#wlw #women loving women #sapphic #desi sapphic #bengali sapphic #bengali wlw #desi wlw #girls who love girls #girls who like girls #bisexual #lesbian relationship #relationship advice #gay relationship #gay #lesbian #queer relationships #queer religion #hindu #muslim #islam #hinduism #queer muslim #desi queer #homophobia #long distance relationship #long distance love #lesbian ldr #ldr #lgbt #lgbt+