#for some reason. i was not allowed to type a question mark at all while writing this post. it straight up wouldn't let me.

[martynsimp69]

holy shit its 🐠🥼 fis

after lots of speed-editing and not a lot of sleep the first thirteen (13) chapters of “there are many downsides to being a marine biologist” (aka fis au) are LIVE!!!

that's 24,676 words of fis so far. we're 40% of the way through! there will be a short break for a day or two as i do things like "bake some bread" and "talk to my partners" and maybe even "play minecraft." but we will resume shortly with a much more normal posting schedule of one chapter per day probably.

lots of u have been very very nice to me about this fic so far and i greatly appreciate every comment and kudos that has been left already. thank u for joining me in docmartyn fish yaoi hell.

#fis au #docmartyn #trafficshipping #hermitshipping #mcytblraufest2023 #for some reason. i was not allowed to type a question mark at all while writing this post. it straight up wouldn't let me. #like whats your beef with question marks. can i fucking help you. #i got like 3 hours of sleep but im not going back to bed im hungry and my roommate is getting up soon and will need help (they are injured)

[halfmoth-halfman]

viii. but i can't help falling in love with you

Pairing: Mob Boss!Price x F!Reader Word Count: 5.6k Warnings: bruises, injury, medical inaccuracies, blood, scars, scar mention, talks of abuse Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. prev | next

“Everything about it says it was just a random break-in—”

Price hums, clearly not happy with the answer.

“—the guy’s prints weren’t in the system, and he didn’t have any affiliated markings or tattoos,” Ghost continues, hands gripping tight around the back of Soap’s chair.

“We asked around on our ends,” Alejandro sighs, gesturing between himself and Valeria. “No one recognizes him.”

“We haven’t heard anything either, but I have Ayah keeping a lookout for anything new,” Farah adds from Price’s left side, trying to add some small amount of comfort to a clearly upset Price.

“It was probably some guy looking to score,” Kyle reasons from the chair across her. The dining room lapses into silence as Price sits in thought, arms crossed and fingers drumming against his bicep.

“We should ask the bird,” Nik cuts in. “If it’s someone she knows, this could be a targeted attack against her, not the club.”

“Let her sleep,” Price says, leaving no room for argument. Nik gives him a questioning look but nods and stays silent.

“We could keep a set of eyes on the hotel for a few weeks, see if anyone comes lookin’ around?” Soap suggests.

“We can’t spare anyone right now,” Ghost huffs. “Not with the way things are.”

“But—”

A soft knock draws the room’s attention to the door leading to the sitting room.

It’s the worst anyone has seen you look. Dressed in leggings and a maroon sweater that’s a little big on you, you look exhausted and run-down, with deep purple bruises lining your neck.

“He-ey—” you croak out, wincing as you give a haggard cough.

Rudy’s on his feet immediately, guiding you to the closest chair, the one directly opposite Price’s seat at the head of the table. He sits you down as you try to clear your throat.

“I told you, no talking,” he chides, gently tilting your head back to lightly press his fingers against the bruises, just like he had when Price brought you here last night. You sigh through your nose, giving a quick sorry in sign language.

“How are you feeling?” Alejandro asks. You open your mouth to answer and shut it promptly when Rudy sends you a warning look. You shuffle, reaching into the pocket of your leggings to pull out your phone.

You type for a quick second before your phone chimes, and a robotic voice answers for you, “Like I almost got choked out by a man twice my size.” That earns you a few chuckles, though Price looks less than amused.

You type again, a quiet beat before the voice in your phone asks, “What did you do with him?”

There are a few glances around the table, most landing on Price as if they’re unsure whether they’re allowed to answer.

“He’s taken care of. No need to worry,” Price answers. You nod, trying not to hit Rudy’s fingers with your chin.

“Did you…recognize him at all?” Roach asks. “Maybe you’ve seen him around the hotel or…?”

“Roach,” Price warns.

“It’s a fair question,” Nik scoffs. “We need to know if this was random or if someone’s going after her.”

They go back and forth while you type, waiting for a lull in their argument to answer. “I didn’t get a good look at him, but from what I saw, I don’t recognize him.”

“And…do you have anyone who might be after you? An old co-worker? Friend?” Valeria presses.

You swallow tightly, fingers hesitating over your phone. Rudy catches that, pulling back from you to give you a curious look.

“Canary?” Rudy asks softly, his quiet voice loud in the room's silence. “Is someone after you?”

It’s too late to lie now.

Think, think, think.

You type again, “The cops? The ones who interrogated me when I covered for you after Hasan. They seemed pretty mad, and they knew where I was staying.”

You give your best worried look, setting your phone down to fidget and pick at your nails.

“That could explain why we didn’t find anything on him,” Alex says, looking at Price.

“Shepherd wouldn’t risk one of his guys like that,” Kyle disagrees. “Especially not to go after someone who’s barely involved with our business. No offense, Canary.”

“None taken,” you sign, giving a casual shrug.

“It wouldn’t hurt to look into it,” Farah sighs. “Can you ask Kate to check around and see if she can find anything on her end?”

Price, silent until this point with his eyes fixed on you, takes a deep breath. He sits up in his chair, the room lapsing into a tense silence as everyone looks toward him.

“Rudy, how’s her neck?” Price asks.

“Still swollen, but it looks like it’s going down,” Rudy answers before turning to you. “You’ll have to take it easy for at least a week. Minimal talking and no singing.”

You give him a salute and a thumbs up.

“I’ll call Kate and see if she finds us any information,” Price sighs. “We’ll close the club tonight while the rest of you find out what you can and put out feelers—see if any of the other families are trying to branch out. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

Price stands, and the others follow suit, taking their leave with gentle goodbyes and smiles aimed toward you.

“König, hang back a second,” Price calls as he walks to your end of the table and takes the seat next to you, pulling the chair closer to fit you between his spread legs. König nods, lingering near the door as Price gently traces his finger along the bruises on your neck.

“Any news from Majka?” Price asks quietly.

“Nothing yet. Conor said he’d let me know if he heard anything,” König answers. Price nods, a brief flash of disappointment across his face.

“Okay, thank you. Keep me updated.”

“Yes, sir,” König says, giving you a nod before leaving the room.

The room sinks into a comfortable silence as Price looks over the purple and blue of your neck. He’s as gentle as possible, fingertips barely ghosting over the swollen skin.

“How are you?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper as he pulls his fingers away to slide his along your cheek and cup your jaw. You set your hand over his, squeezing softly with a small smile.

You shrug half-heartedly, trying to reassure him without talking, lest you incur Rudy’s wrath.

He nods in understanding, leaning forward to kiss your head softly. When he pulls away, you lean forward, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

“Gaz and Roach brought your things over last night. You can pick whichever room you want, and we’ll move your stuff there,” Price says, perching his head on top of yours with a comforting hand rubbing up and down your back.

You reach for your phone, keeping yourself attached to him as you type, “The room I was in last night…?”

“My room,” Price chuckles.

You pull back to look up at him questioningly, tilting your head. “Then where did you sleep?”

“In one of the spare rooms,” he shrugs. “We got done late, and you needed the rest.” You roll your eyes, clicking your tongue in disappointment.

“If you like the room that much, you’re welcome to it,” Price teases.

You narrow your eyes, glaring playfully at him before you type out your answer, a smirk on your face as your phone says, “I’d prefer the room with you in it.”

Price’s brows raise as he smiles down at you, but there’s a hesitance in his eyes. “You’re sure? I don’t want you to feel like you have to after what happen—”

You set a hand on his chest to stop him. Setting your phone down, your hand slides up to rest on his cheek, gently pulling him closer and closer until you’re barely centimeters apart.

“You make me feel safe,” you rasp before you move forward and close the gap.

For a brief moment, Price stills, and anxiety rockets through you at the thought you’ve overstepped.

You move to pull away, and he lunges, warm hands coming up to frame your face as he kisses you with a year’s worth of bubbling tension finally boiling over.

You don’t know how you feel as you kiss him. It’s a combination of emotions you haven’t felt in so long: relief, desire, comfort, joy. They all swirl together into the one emotion you’ve been chasing since your wedding.

Safe.

-

Living with John is suspiciously easy.

It feels as if you've known each other for years, and that same familiarity extends to the rest of the club.

You remember nights with your father as a child, listening to him tell you old war stories from his chair while you took and apart and cleaned his guns in front of the warm fireplace. Those memories bring a fondness to your heart that you always thought was the peak of what familial love was meant to be, but it’s nothing compared to your life in the manor.

Dinners with Kyle, Farah, and Alex are filled with laughter and teasing and almost always made by you and John. There’s no tense silence as everyone picks at their plates, no stilted conversation about business and only business, no large work dinners that force you to parade around in an uncomfortably tight dress while you serve your guests.

When Soap and Ghost stay the night, you sometimes run with Soap in the mornings, turning morning exercise into a friendly competition. There’s no pushing on his end, no yelling at you to pick up the pace, or warnings about falling behind. It’s all encouragement and jokes and teasingly elbowing each other as you walk the rest of the way back to the house.

Sometimes Ghost joins you instead, the two of you enjoying a quiet run around the property. He indulges you in the few questions you have about the flowers you find. The answers are short, as you expected, but he’s surprisingly knowledgeable about the flora around the manor and has a cute eagerness to his voice when he explains a flower’s meaning to you.

After a month, Nik finds you one afternoon, grinning at you as he wipes the black grease from his hands onto his overalls. He leads you to the garage, where he shows off the extensive collection of cars he’s worked on, both classic and modern, and tells you to take your pick. You try to assure him you don’t need anything more than your beat-up car—it may be falling apart, but it’s wormed its way into your heart.

“That’s fine, but you’ll have to drive something else while I fix up your piece of shit,” he tells you. It’s then that you notice the back of the garage where his workshop is set up, and he’s got your broken baby up on a lift with the tires taken off.

So, you pick a new one—something practical, efficient, and baby blue—and thank Nik when he tosses you the keys.

Alejandro visits often, mostly to talk with John about happenings with the club, but he always makes a point to find and say hello to you. Sometimes, Rudy or Valeria will join him. When Rudy does, he checks in with you, asking how you’re feeling and making sure your throat isn’t bothering you anymore before joining John and Alejandro. When Valeria visits, she skips out on business talk entirely, insisting on taking you out to go shopping or see the city.

“There’s no point in sitting through a bunch of information Alejandro will tell me about later,” she laughs with a dismissive wave.

You don’t see König or Roach at the house much, and when you do, it’s usually late at night, just as they're leaving John’s office. John never tells you what they come for, but he’s always a little more tense after their visits.

You don’t know how to describe John. The best fitting word that comes to mind is welcoming.

He lets you have half the space in his massive walk-in closet, even though you barely have enough clothes to take up one of the shelves. He has you pick one of the spare bedrooms, telling you to redecorate it and turn it into whatever you want. You’re allowed anywhere in the house, save for the few rooms belonging to the other club members, to do anything you want.

The freedom is almost overwhelming.

When he senses your hesitance, he assures you that he wants you to feel at home, that this space is as much yours as it is his.

You let yourself explore over the weeks but do your best to stay out of the way of club business; it’s not that you’re not curious, you just…don’t want to know, don’t want to be involved in the stress of it all.

You’ve dealt with that enough in your life. It’s a new era for you, and you’re determined to hold on to it for as long as you can.

-

When Rudy gives you the okay to perform again, you nearly tackle him in a hug. Even if it’s only for the first half of the show, you’ll take what you can get.

Farah switches out with you during intermission, and you head for the bar, where Alex already has a stool open for you.

“Feel good to be back?” he asks, smiling wide as you take your seat.

“It feels amazing,” you laugh. He slides you a glass of water, briefly turning to tend to another patron.

Someone clears their throat behind you, tapping you on your shoulders. There’s a dull thrum of pain, but you ignore it and spin in your seat to find König staring down at you.

“Boss wants you upstairs,” is all he says before turning and walking away.

…okay?

You finish your water, giving Alex a quick wave before heading to the club’s second floor.

You pass a few private game tables, not finding John at any of them, and head towards the few closed-off rooms.

You don’t need to guess which one he’s in when you turn the corner and find Ghost standing guard outside the door.

“Everything okay up here?” you ask as you approach.

“Nothing unusual,” Ghost gives a slight shrug, his shadowed eyes flitting about the hallway.

“Then, mind if I…?” You point to the door behind him. He nods, taking a step to the side to let you through.

The room is dark, low-lit, and filled with cigar smoke and laughter. You make your way through the haze to the poker table at the center of the room, where John sits with Nik and a few other men you’ve never seen before. A couple of them have women with them, barely dressed and making more effort to distract the other players than paying attention to their companions.

Something tightens in your chest, fight or flight buzzing around the back of your mind.

Sitting in a dark room, shoved in a barely-there dress, put on display to distract the other players. The threat of being left to wolves should you fail looming over you.

John wouldn’t that to you.

He’s not the same as—

“There she is!”

John reaches out to grab your hand as soon as you’re near and kisses the inside of your wrist.

“Care to join us?” John asks, staring up at you with a look of adoration that sends a shock of straight want down your spine. “Could use my good luck charm.”

Nik barks out a laugh, “With the way you’re playing, you need more than luck.”

“You don’t have to,” John murmurs, while the others are too busy with their laughter and jokes.

The softness in his voice puts your anxiety at ease. Of course, he’d never force you to be somewhere you didn't want to be.

“Why not?” you shrug, smiling as he tugs you forward and pulls you down to sit across his lap. A hand settles around your waist, a soft kiss pressed along the curve of your neck, and the cards are dealt.

You watch while they play, bets higher than anything you’d be comfortable with. They’re pretty good, but you’ve spent a lot of time around poker tables and even more time around liars. You wait until the final community card is flipped, and the man directly across from you—the last one left in the game against John, older with dark, greying hair—blinks three times and makes his bet before you lean into John as if to kiss his neck.

“He’s bluffing,” you whisper, following it with a kiss before you straighten up. John doesn’t acknowledge you, blank face trained on his cards, but you feel a small squeeze of your hip where his hand rests.

John calls, and the two reveal their hands. It’s not even close, your observation correct, as John wins by a landslide.

He presses an appreciative kiss to your shoulder. You catch Nik smirking at you, and you wink back at him.

The game continues well into the night, and you don’t leave your place in John’s lap. The two of you take it easy, letting John lose a few games while still winning a majority. You play the part, batting your eyes at the others with a flirty smile so they think nothing more of you than John’s arm candy while you lean in to pepper kisses along his neck and whisper hints in his ear.

By the time they call it quits, the left side of his neck is covered in your lipstick, but he’s a few hundred-thousands richer.

“Quite the good luck charm you have there, Price,” one of the men next to Nik—red-headed with one of the scantily dressed women pressed against his arm—laughs, drinking you in with a leer that sets you on edge. “Maybe next time, I’ll try her out.”

John laughs, but you can feel how hard he tenses beneath you.

“She’s spoken for, I’m afraid,” he says with a polite smile, pressing you just a bit tighter against him.

“Sure,” the man laughs before turning to mumble to the others, “Must be all that good luck she’s rubbing off on him,” The others laugh along, save for Nik, who focuses on gathering the cards on the table.

“Go wait outside for me, Dove,” Price speaks quietly. You nod, standing from his lap.

You lean down to kiss him on the cheek before smiling to the table. “You girls want something to drink? It’s on me!” The three women glance at each other before noticing the tension rising in the room and nodding. They follow you out, and you direct them toward the bar before turning to Ghost.

“You might wanna head in there,” you tell him. He nods, waiting until you’ve turned down the hall to go inside.

You spend the next hour with the women at the bar, having a fantastic time as they drink and dance and tell you all about how awful their men are in hilarious detail, probably having their first taste of freedom in a while.

You understand. You’ve been there before.

They leave for a fifth dance, and this time you decline, far too exhausted to keep up with them.

As soon as they’ve disappeared into the crowd, you let out a long exhale, letting yourself lean against the bar.

“Tired?” a baritone voice murmurs into your ear, strong arms sliding around your waist.

“A little bit,” you sigh, turning to face John. “Everything go okay?”

He hums, one hand pulling off your waist to wrap around yours and bring it to his lips. He leaves a lingering kiss on your fingers, eyes holding your gaze as he allows you to see the dried blood and bruising on his hand.

“Probably should go home and wrap this,” he sighs, trailing kisses down the side of your hand to the inside of your wrist.

“Is he still breathing?” you ask, giving your best attempt at a look of disappointment despite the smile slowly growing on your face.

“Unfortunately,” John scoffs, pulling you closer so his mouth can continue its path up your arm.

You click your tongue at him, rolling your eyes in fake annoyance as you pull your hand out of his embrace to set your hand on his cheek. “You don’t have to do that whenever someone says something like that to me. It’s bound to happen.”

His brows knit together, concern and confusion drawn across his face.

“Not to my girl, it isn’t,” he says, firm and final.

“John—”

“Get a room, you two!”

You’re startled apart as Soap and Kyle reach the bar.

“Hey, let the old man have his fun!” Alex scolds through poorly held-back laughs. John groans, head falling into the crook of your neck as the three burst with laughter.

“Ready to go home?” you laugh softly. John nods into your shoulder, stepping back from you with a long sigh and deep reluctance. He takes your hand in his, pulling you away from the bar as the two of you are followed by cheers and shouts of:

“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!”

“Take it easy on him, Starling!”

“Have fun!”

Your first priority will be taking care of John’s beaten knuckles. The fun can come after that when you thoroughly thank him for defending you.

-

It isn’t unusual for John to be up late, either busy at the club or in his office.

Just as it’s not uncommon for you to go to bed alone. Of course, he makes up for it by making sure you never have to wake up alone, but you still miss him on nights when work comes first.

To make up for his absence, you take to wearing his shirts as pajamas, melting into the rich smell of him that lingers on the fabric as you sleep. When he’s finally done for the night, he often finds you lying on top of the covers, snuggled down into the fabric of his shirt. It’s a sight that fills him with equal parts adoration and want, something that he will never get tired of seeing.

You always wake up whenever he finally joins you for the night, moving so you can get under the blankets and let him pull you into his side. Sometimes, he talks to you about his day until you’re lulled to sleep by the soft vibrato of his voice, and sometimes, the sight of you in nothing but one of his shirts leads to even longer nights spent touching and feeling and worshipping until your voice leaves you.

Sometimes, it leads to nights like tonight, you laying beside him with your head on his chest, listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart while he trails his fingers in nonsense shapes across your back.

Things are fine, content, even downright serene until he skims over a ridge of the scar on your shoulder, and you tense instinctively, hissing softly under your breath.

He pulls back immediately, “Sorry, sweetheart.”

One thing about John: he never pushes.

He knows about the scar, knows how you go out of your way to cover it up, how you flinch whenever someone touches on that side. He observes, stores the information away in his brain, takes care to avoid touching you there, but he never asks you about it.

“It’s alright,” you sigh, rolling your shoulder, trying to get the ache to leave.

You want to tell him. You have for the last month, but every time you think to bring it up, something catches in the back of your throat, gnawing at you until you back out.

It leaves you with an awful sort of guilt, one made worse by the fact that you don’t have anyone to confide in about it. No one to bounce your ideas off of. No one to reassure you that John’s opinion of you wouldn’t change if he knew.

You trust him implicitly.

He’s never given you a reason not to.

You can’t keep complaining about being haunted if you won’t let go of your ghosts.

So, in the quiet darkness of your bedroom, you suddenly sit up, throwing one leg over him to place yourself in his lap, and set your hands flat against his chest.

“Did Kyle ever tell you I was married?” you ask softly.

John goes still beneath you.

“Things were good at the start. Or he made it seem like they were so I wouldn’t realize what he was actually doing, but over time that façade he put up melted away, and I—I realized how big of a mistake I actually made.”

He doesn’t speak, but John’s hands settle on your thighs, gently kneading into the bare skin.

A small attempt at comfort.

A silent I’m here.

“He never hit me or anything like that. He found other ways to hurt me, ways that would be harder to prove if I ever left, and he had this…charisma—he was so likable and charming that whenever he’d say no one would listen to me, I’d believed him. One day, he—” Your voice catches, and John’s hands slide up to your hips as he sits up and sets his forehead against yours.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he whispers.

“I want to,” you reply. It takes a second for you to collect yourself, and you’re still not sure you’re ready, but you push yourself to do it anyway. “One day, I just snapped. I couldn’t take the snide comments, the vague threats, the constant anxiety—I couldn’t do it anymore. I tried to leave, and he tried to stop me, and we got into this huge argument. He grabbed my arm, and I pulled away too hard, not watching where I was going…and broke my shoulder, falling down a flight of stairs.

“I try not to think about it a lot, but my shoulder never really healed properly, so sometimes even the smallest touch just makes it ache, and all I can think about is that day, lying at the bottom of the stairs, wondering if it wouldn’t have been easier to have broken my neck instead.”

The pain lingers, but there’s a considerable weight that lifts from your chest.

There’s a beat of silence before John moves again, gently grabbing your hand and setting it on his chest, guiding your thumb along the skin where you feel a small raised circle underneath the hair.

“One of the first deals after I’d just started the club,” he sighs. “Went in all cocksure and arrogant, thinking I knew everything and that no one could touch me. The dealer we were meeting with had this idea that we were overcharging him, which we were, but we weren’t going to tell him that.

“Well, I got mouthy, and his men got violent. He pulled a gun, and the friend I was with, the man I’d started this club with, shoved me out of the way. Bullet tore through him but slowed down, going off kilter just enough to miss my heart. The Hell I unleashed after my recovery is what laid the foundation for what the club is today, but sometimes…Sometimes, I think about him, and I wonder if it was a fair trade. If it wouldn’t have been better for me to have taken the bullet and let him be here instead.”

A trade. One painful memory for another.

An implied confession: you’re not alone.

You lean forward, a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

I’m glad you’re here.

He pulls you into him, lips colliding with yours.

I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.

Your hands wind their way around his neck as he flips the two of you, laying you down against the bed. He hovers over you for just a second, blue eyes gazing down at you with far too much emotion for you to handle. You pull him by his hair, and he follows your lead, closing the space to pour all that emotion into a kiss that you return with the same intensity.

I love you.

-

If there’s one thing John loves more than surprising you, it’s spoiling you.

It starts with jewelry, small boxes of simple, elegant bracelets and necklaces left on your vanity during your performances.

Then it extends to clothes, your half of the closet slowly filling with pieces you find when he takes you shopping. He carries your bags for you, and you repay him by modeling every piece of lingerie you buy when you get home.

When it’s his turn to handle date night, there’s always some outrageously fancy restaurant or sold-out showing waiting for you, everything complimentary, and the staff exceptionally welcoming to the two of you.

Spoiling you isn’t restricted to expensive gifts, either.

When you catch a cold in the middle of spring, John takes the day off—something Kyle says he apparently never does, and something he can’t afford to do, says Ghost—to tend to your every need.

He overhears you talking with Valeria, telling her how you’d love nothing more than to sink into a hot bath, and you come home to a candle-lit bathroom and a tub filled with warm water and bubbles. He washes your hair, massages your shoulders, and whispers in your ear all the things he plans to do to you once you’re out of the tub.

You appreciate every single thing he does for you and tell him so often. He shrugs it off, saying he’s happy to treat you the way you deserve.

In truth, there’s something else, something far more selfish, that drives him.

He loves you. He loves to see you smile. He loves the way your eyes light up when he takes time away from the club to spend it with you—something he finds himself doing more of recently, an attempt to escape the stress and paranoia that’s been building.

He loves it even more that it’s him that’s making you happy, that he’s the only one who can make you smile like that, laugh like that, moan like that. You’re his just as much as he’s yours, and he has no intention of ever letting you go.

"Zip me up?"

Especially not now, when you’re standing in front of your bedroom mirror, half-dressed in a gown he bought for you, trying to get ready for a gala.

You look like a dream, dress hanging off your figure as you gaze at him over your shoulder with that beautiful look on your face. The one that always makes him feel like a shy teenager stumbling over his words.

John steps up behind you, and you turn a little more to meet him with a soft kiss. You turn back to the mirror, standing up straight to give him access to the zipper of your dress and the bare expanse of your back.

You wait patiently, adjusting your jewelry here and there. So distracted. So trusting. It tugs at something in his heart how vulnerable you allow yourself to be around him, a man with so much blood on his hands, they're stained down to the bone. Yet here you are, allowing him to touch you, to stain your skin with that blood and violence and danger that will follow him for the rest of his life.

He doesn't know what he's done to deserve you, but you meet his eyes in the reflection, giving him that stunning smile, and he knows it doesn't matter.

He'd burn the world to the ground if it meant he could have you in the ashes.

-

It’s the middle of the night when Ghost walks into his office unannounced, carrying a small, black folder.

“Bit late for you, isn’t it?” Price asks, looking up from the journal on his desk.

Ghost doesn’t speak, walking up to the desk and setting the folder down. Price sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before picking up the folder.

“Are you going to tell me what this is, or do I have to guess?”

“Tried calling you.”

“Phone’s in the bedroom.”

“You’ve been gone a lot.”

“Is this late-night visit for something important or just so you can tell me you’ve missed me?” Price doesn’t mean to snap; the irritation that he’s having this conversation instead of finishing up his work so he can join you in bed grinding against his nerves.

“We found the man that attacked Canary. We know where he’s from.”

Price’s eyes shoot up to meet Ghost’s. Ghost looks about as tired as he does, and Price can’t blame them. Things have been tight for months, walls slowly closing in around the club.

There’s something else in his face, something that sets Price on edge.

Price knows Ghost, knows the man who’s been by his side for years, helping to take care of every dirty deal the club’s had to deal with.

Ghost has a certain detachment, no care about what he’s doing or who he has to hurt to do it.

It’s not Ghost he’s talking to, but Simon who’s staring down at him with sadness and pity.

“Look in the folder,” Simon sighs.

Price doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to know about whatever’s in here, what information he’s about to have to deal with. He wants to throw the folder back at Simon and bury his head in your neck, ignoring the rest of the world.

But he’s the Boss for a reason.

He sets the folder down, steeling himself with a deep breath, before flipping it open.

A stone sinks into the pit of his stomach, and his heart shatters.

“Oh.”

The mask slips back on, Ghost’s protective nature taking over as he watches Price visibly deflate.

“How do you want me to handle this?”

taglist: @sleepyendymion, @blazedprince, @blueoorchid, @ohgodthebogisback, @melancholyy-hill, @wasteland-babe, @meepetteoneonly, @anitaebee, @honeyr4ven, @curasimp, @jxvipike, @frazie99, @reiya-djarin, @urfavsunkissedleo, @hauntingtherosebush, @aerangi, @ofmenanduhhhwellmen, @warners-wife, @xx4rcticxx, @mundane-frogola, @marytvirgin, @nyooom, @gogh-with-the-flow, @arctic-writes, @thriving-n-jiving, @deadpoetsandhoney, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @blurpleuni-squid, @dead-noodles, @urfavsunkissedleo, @tapioca-marzipan, @averyyreads, @sourire-acide, @nivalis-dies, @froggi-mushroom, @carla019083-blog, @urlovecarla, @fvfvxcvfxcvf, @digitalsins, @dectectivejjbittenbinder, @330bpm-whiplash, @warners-wife, @das-conk-creet-baybee, @dudewithastick, @x-jeff-johansen-x, @calypsoonn, @octopiys, @tbrfic, @pssytrux, @pastelpixies, @bloodyfoxes12, @emma342561, @scattermind-001, @kereseth, @iwaszoomingg, @schlafenderbruder, @sanfransolomitatm, @solidly-indulgent, @oastertoaster, @whovianwar, @kateanacall, @luvmariax0, @tbrfic, @gh0st-r1der, @certainlynotasimp, @pheobees, @fivedicksinatrenchcoat, @sarapaprikas-blog, @moriflos, @laeilaps, @furiousshepherdclambailiff, @manicdepressive-dreamgirl, @tactical-shrimp, @rosesgaylol, @marvelranger, @msdrpreist, @riverrka

#captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #captain john price #captain price #john price #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #mw fics #moth writes

[arcadiabaytornado]

I never understood why some people hate Rachel for “being toxic” cause it’s not like the other people in Arcadia Bay were any better. Almost everyone was toxic to some degree.

This is a super interesting ask that made me think a lot, but I think I can answer the "why?"

All of the cast has negative traits. Some are more obvious like Mark and Nathan. Some are more subtle like Max and Kate. Then you have characters like Chloe and Steph, who aren't bad people, but are pretty flawed. However, the thing they all share in common is that we have a good understanding of these flaws and "why" they're present.

Mark drugs and kidnaps women. Why? Because he wants to see the light be swallowed by the dark. Max is bad at communicating. Why? Because her anxieties often lead to her unintentionally making things worse. Steph runs away from her problems. Why? Because she struggles with facing them head on.

Rachel is different. She was flawed, but unlike the others, we don't know know the "why's" that would piece her character together. We know she lied quite a bit, but we don't know why she felt like she had to spin a web, or how bad her intentions were when she did so. We know that Chloe didn't know her the way she thought did, but is the "why" because Chloe turned a blind to what she didn't want to see, or is the "why" because Rachel blinded her with a smokescreen of lies? We know that Rachel wanted to leave the bay, but would she have taken Chloe like she promised if Frank offered her a means of escape first?

I think the answer to the "why" of your question is simple...because we don't know why Rachel did the things she did, and that means her flaws exist more in a vacuum, while the flaws of the other characters exist within their full characterization. Because of that, I think it's easier to see her flaws and just...not know what to make of them, and that leads to some people making the worst faith interpretation possible for...whatever reason.

So I think that's your answer. And I have one more thought to add to this before I stop typing: If Nathan, a guy who we KNOW drugs and kidnaps women, is allowed nuance in canon, then Rachel should also be allowed to have nuance considering we don't even know enough about her to say more than like...five things with confidence.

#life is strange #lis #rachel amber #asks

[adobe-outdesign]

Lotad review if not done yet

Lotad's pretty fun, on the grounds of both being a lily pad creature and for having six legs for no real reason. The entire line's based off of the kappa, which is a amphibious yokai with a water dish on its head and a beak. Reinventing the water dish as a lily pad is clever, and it works as a secondary theme.

Visually, the triangles on the hat create a zig-zag pattern that's built upon as it evolves, and the yellow beak provides contrast. I do wish there was more contrast between the blue body and the lily pad—maybe a light green to match Lombre—but otherwise it's a fun little guy.

I also appreciate that Lotad very clearly has a single braincell pinging around in its head like a Windows screensaver.

Lombre is probably my favorite out of these guys. I just enjoy this thing's kind of sombre personality and habit of hiding in the water and scaring people—almost feels like it could've been part dark-type if it wasn't for the rest of the line.

There are a few elements that feel a bit extraneous in the design (such as the ear and the spikes on the hands and feet—maybe those are claws, but then why aren't they red?), but otherwise it comes together pretty well. The light and darker green have good contrast and allow the red accents to really pop, and the markings help to break up the body. I also really like the weird beak shape, which is more of a beak on top and a regular jaw on bottom, with a bit of a zig-zag to keep up with that visual element.

The only other thing I question is if the red parts would've made more sense in yellow, seeing as the red, while looking nice, does just randomly pop up in this stage and then abruptly disappear again. But otherwise yeah, this is a good middle stage with a distinct identity.

Ludicolo feels like a bit of an out of nowhere turn, as we suddenly went from a sombre prankster kappa to a strangely Mexican kappa monster with some vague fruit elements integrated into it. However, it is refreshing to get a final stage that's upbeat and super fun instead of the badass-type designs we usually get, and it does still continue the kappa and lily pad themes enough that it still fits with the line.

The design itself brings the zig-zag motif into full swing by giving it both zig-zags on its fur and on its hat, which is now vaguely sombrero-like. The fruit elements in the middle of the hat and the hands are a pretty interesting way to build on its grass-typing, and the colors work well together.

If there's one issue I have with it, it's that the fur feels a bit out of place—it's just a bit strange considering kappa are amphibious creatures and it's still part water-type. Also, while the green around the eyes helps draw attention to them, it does break up the flow of the design due to the triangles going sideways instead of down like all the other zig-zag elements. But that aside, Ludicolo's a pretty entertaining design that really works better than it probably has a right to.

Overall, some fun and funky kappas with some strong visual motifs.

#lotad #lombre #ludicolo #pokemon #pokemon reviews

[orangesaek]

Ok so I've been learning Korean recently and thought it was so cute how 포포(popo) means kiss and 포도(podo) means grapes.

So Ive been thinking of a cute scenario with Mark where his s/o is learning korean and mixes the two up when asking for grapes and it makes mark super flustered.

omg my boy mark lee 🥹 i could easily imagine his flustered face lmao should i name this "the grape mistake"? 👀 sorry anyway, thanks so much for requesting this! let me know what you think ♡ hope you liked this! a/n: not proofread. lowercase intended.

mark was working in the studio late at night when you texted him that you'll be visiting him at the company to bring him some snacks and just hang out until he finishes work since you didn't have anything to do the next day anyway.

he mentioned about craving some street food the other day, and so you went to the night market. of course, knowing how much your boyfriend loves watermelon, you started looking for the nearest fruit stand. much to your dismay, the only fruit stand that was open that time ran out of everything else except grapes.

it hasn't been that long since you have moved to korea, but you were already quite quick to learn the language (also thanks to mark's help). however, you never really bothered to learn some of the most basic words for some reason. like fruits, for example.

you were just standing in front of the fruit stand quietly for about a minute, trying to remember a word you never even learned before. you were just about to say grapes in english when the stall owner decided to speak first.

"do you want to buy some grapes? they're fresh," she said. you knew she was talking about the grapes (because obviously there was nothing else in her stall but grapes), but it was the first time you've ever heard of the korean word for it.

"i'm so sorry, but what do you call this fruit in korean?" you asked, hoping she wouldn't find your question too silly. the stall owner gave you a bit of a puzzled look before realizing that you were a foreigner.

"it's called podo," she kindly repeated. after thanking the kind lady and memorizing the word in your brain, you went on your way to mark's studio.

on normal occasions, nobody else but strictly the company staff and artists were allowed to enter the building. however, thanks to mark's popularity within the company and the company actually owing him a lot of gratitude, you were given a bit of a special treatment as his girlfriend.

you were about to knock on the door of his studio but decided otherwise, thinking he might be in the middle of recording something and end up disrupting his work. instead, you sent him a text message that you were already outside of his studio, and thankfully, he was able to immediately open the door for you.

"my babyyy," he greeted in english, clearly delighted to see you again. more often than not, the two of you spoke in english whenever you're alone together. when his members are around, however, you'd mix korean here and there.

he ushered you inside before taking the food you bought for him and placing it on an empty table. he then opened his arms wide and patted his chest for you to come to him for a hug.

"you know you didn't have to bother, but thank you so much for all of this, babe" mark said as he tightened his embrace. "really appreciate it, thank you."

right after eating, mark went back to work while you quietly scrolled through your phone. the two of you were in comfortable silence though, and that was one of the many things that mark appreciated about you. you weren't the type to constantly seek for his attention, and you knew how to entertain yourself when he's busy.

"babe, there are still some grapes left, right? can you please get them for me?" he asked. you got on your feet and passed him the remaining grapes.

"thank you," he said before putting his headphones back on. he placed the grapes on the right side, which was on the other side from where you were seated.

while you were scrolling through your phone, you could see mark pop a grape or two in his mouth every now and then while he was on his computer. you never got the chance to taste one while you were eating earlier (because you were too full), and looking at mark just eating it so deliciously made you want to have some, too.

mark was about to put another grape in his mouth when you lightly poked his left arm. he then looked at you, the grape still between his right thumb and index finger.

"podo juseyo~" you asked in an aegyo voice, both hands open in a gesture to receive. mark blinked at you twice, suddenly feeling flustered while you were there just cutely blinking your eyes at him, waiting for him to give you the grape he was holding.

"w-what?" he nervously asked, his ears turning red at seeing you ask for a 'kiss' after briefly having a coughing fit (poor boy just choked on his own spit). it was definitely not the first time the two of you have shared a kiss, but it was the first time for him to see you ask for it so cutely.

"podo," you repeated. "isn't grape called podo in korean?"

mark's mouth fell in an 'o' after realizing what you have just said. he took off his headphones and asked you again if you were asking for podo, and not a kiss.

you broke into laughter, with mark sheepishly laughing along with you for his mistake. after laughing for a good minute or two, you then took mark's right hand (which was still holding the grape).

"babe, we can get the best of both worlds," you said, still chuckling and smiling in between. mark looked puzzled, wondering what you meant.

"we get to split the grape in two and kiss each other at the same time. like this," you raised mark's hand to your mouth, placing the grape between your teeth and motioning for him to lean forward.

mark chuckled at your idea but leaned in for a kiss and a bite of the grape anyway. needless to say, it was literally the sweetest and juiciest kiss he ever had.

- end.

requests are OPEN! feel free to send me an ask ♡

#nct #nct 127 #nct fanfic #nct u #nct as boyfriends #nct dream #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct mark #mark lee #mark fanfic #nct mark fluff #mark fluff #nct mark scenarios #boyfriend mark #mark lee as a boyfriend #mark as a boyfriend #nct mark as a boyfriend #nct mark lee #nct dream fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct u fluff #superm #superm fluff #superm mark

[gatheringbones]

[“I managed to get out in three months. While out on parole for Christmas, I begged my father not to send me back. In another of our few tender moments, he caved. And he was the one who went to collect my stuff from this place. He returned so shaken he couldn’t talk about it beyond mumbled regrets. He’d never actually seen the place. These mumblings marked a third tender moment.

I had a reprieve, but not for long. I still hadn’t learned my lesson. The cure hadn’t worked. And I was still under the care of this same shrink, which meant still seeing Beth. I made the same gaff, telling Beth about yet another woman, and again she reported back. My father, having been informed, made his last strategic strike. This time he told the shrink that his sister was manic-depressive, and perhaps I was, too. Eureka, they’d solved it, solved me.

Once more I was called into the shrink’s office. I listened to a masterful pitch for Lithium. He made it sound like a drug addict’s dream. That it would allow me to manipulate my mood at will. Next he described me as a Virginia Woolf type time bomb. I’d certainly kill myself by forty. Now I was some kind of suicidal genius. But through the miracle of Lithium I could be saved. The flattery worked, the pitch worked. I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Took another script to the drug store, this time believing in magic.

I didn’t know you needed a blood test for dosage, but presumably the shrink did. For the next ten days I didn’t eat or sleep. No need to, this stuff made me high as a kite. Unlike most actual manic-depressives, I had no experience with mania. And while I’d done speed, of course, and coke, downers were always more my thing. I’d never gone so hyped for so long. You could say my judgment was a bit impaired. This set the stage for the last act.

The shrink suggested I sign myself into a hospital, just for a couple of weeks to stabilize the dosage. Even impaired, I didn’t immediately bite. So Beth was brought in for bait. Unlike me, she’d learned her lesson, was on board this time, though I didn’t know it yet. She coaxed me and I began to waver. I don’t remember why, but I was at my brother’s house when I called her. I do remember I was alone, staring into his kitchen, which had this amazing pile-up of empty Dewars bottles. The same scotch my parents drank by the gallon. The sight of all those bottles seemed to be what made me call.

It was night, a Friday, I think. I know Reagan had just been elected to his first term. Time had passed. I’d later joke it was his election that tipped me over. Beth came and picked me up. Took me to this place. I signed myself in. My parents didn’t even know. The weekend meant two more days of no sleep or food, even so I realized I’d made a mistake, a big one—been duped.

My father bailed me out, took me home. That might have been that, but it wasn’t. I was still on the stuff—the lithium. By now it’d turned me into some punk girl version of Travis Bickle. For reasons I don’t recollect, I was wearing army fatigues, combat boots, and a lot of those heavy silver biker rings. My mother was in the kitchen cooking dinner. My father and I were watching the news. As my kind of luck would have it, Cambodia, perhaps then still Democratic Kampuchea, was news that night—the Khmer Rouge, Pal Pot, the killing fields—they were dredging it all up again, showing old footage.

That’s all it took. The fuse was lit. The only question now was who’d explode first—me or Dad. I think it might’ve been simultaneous combustion. But he was the one on his feet first. When I hit him, I believed it was self-defense. If I hadn’t been wearing the damn rings, I might not have done damage.

My mother tried to break it up—a first. Somehow she and I wound up on the stairs. But how she fell, honestly I don’t know. I only know I didn’t intend to hurt her. I think I was just trying to get her attention. She wasn’t badly hurt, not physically. But she sat at the foot of those stairs yelling she never wanted me inside their house again. Meanwhile my father was on the phone to the cops—or rather a cop. A friend/employee of his. This guy drove me back to the snake pit. This time they took my jewelry, hell, they took everything. This time they doped me to the gills. This time it was progress when I finally got out of a tiny cell to roam a locked ward with women who’d had lobotomies, and I assure you I’m not exaggerating.

I’ll spare you the gorier details. Things you’d expect but might not believe. After all, nobody believed Martha Mitchell either, at least not until it was way too late to do her any good. So let’s just say that given the condition of the other inhabitants, I was a real find for the night nurse. She made a bundle pimping me to the orderlies. I did eventually engineer my release, aided and abetted by a young woman working in occupational therapy. She was the only person who knew or rather cared that I didn’t belong there. She coached me.

For added insurance I managed to get a guy I knew to come pose as my boyfriend. We went so far as to announce our engagement, and I was released shortly after. At the time I believed the engagement stunt was what cinched it. Now I assume it had less to do with the insurance I’d arranged than with my parents’ Blue Cross, which no doubt had been bilked to the max.

The doctor who released me was the same one who’d been there the night I’d signed myself in. I hadn’t seen him or any doctor since, save the one time he’d called on me to act as playmate for a wealthy woman friend of his who was there taking a much-needed rest from the jet-set. If my whole time there had been like that one week with her—good booze, good drugs, good food, and good sex—I might never have left. But it wasn’t. It was a beautiful fluke amidst grueling ugliness.

As this guy released me, he laughed, even gloated about the amount of Thorazine he’d managed to pump into me. I’d remember the number. Again, I learned from a book that this dose was more than double what was considered safe for an actual psychotic. I got the point. I resolved never again to display an emotion, never again to state an opinion, and never again to fall in love with a woman.

Needless to say, I got away from my family. But I still kept those resolutions for nearly two years. The first two fell away first. The last one was lost to a woman I’ll call Ingrid. And while falling for Ingrid would begin yet another sordid story, it’s the end of this one.”]

heather lewis, from richard nixon and me, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000

#Heather Lewis #lesbian literature #cw rape #cw abuse #history stuff #horror! horror! horror!

[cas-kingdom]

"Why do you care?" i don't mind the fandom <3

A/N: Set after the movie. Reader is Tom & Atlanna’s daughter, born after Arthur (& Orm).

"Why do you care?" The words felt unfamiliar on Orm’s tongue as he spoke them, uncertainty spilling into the softness of his tone. He lay on the single bed, legs stretched out as he sat against the headboard, a book in his hands. You sat cross-legged on the floor, your own book open in your lap, but you looked up at your brother’s words, your confusion obvious.

“About me,” Orm clarified, noticing it. He absently waved a hand, his book forgotten for the moment though he attempted to sustain the appearance of being interested. “Why do you care about me?”

You lowered your book, a frown softening your features. “Where’s this come from?” you asked, his words being the first of a topic you hadn’t yet heard him speak of.

Orm shifted on the bed, rolling over possible words in his mind. “You’ve been coming to visit me for weeks now,” he decided on, peering curiously at you. “Why?”

It was a question that you had been waiting for, though you hadn’t realised it. Why were you bothering with him, the man who had attempted to kill Arthur multiple times, had almost succeeded in causing a grandiose war between the ocean and the surface, and had succeeded in an outbreak of war between neighbouring kingdoms of Atlantis? He’d brought about the death of many and a plentiful rift among the ocean that Arthur was still attempting to close, so why you had been spending a couple hours of your day, multiple days a week since he’d been arrested, with him in his cell...he did not know. Not that he would ever complain. The company was appreciated and the person was valued more than he would have once believed.

Shrugging, you gave him the answer you pegged as obvious. “We’re siblings,” you stated.

“Half,” Orm absent-mindedly corrected.

You blinked, a little taken aback. “That matters to you?”

For a moment, Orm looked straight at you, noting the disappointment glazing your eyes, and he felt a swell of something...some emotion...in his heart. Something he wished to grasp onto and keep there.

“No,” he said genuinely, dipping his head to ensure you could see he meant it. He sat up, stretching his arms in front of him, and you, satisfied, allowed yourself a small smile.

“There you go, then,” you said plainly. “I’d rather have two siblings than one. It’s much more fun.”

“Is it?” The curiosity in his voice, mingled with the hint of longing, reminded you not for the first time that while you’d had Arthur your entire life, Orm had for the most part been alone. While you had a father who’d raised you perfectly, you didn’t think Orvax had been the type to stick around and watch his son’s first steps or laugh at his first words. It was one of the multiple reasons you’d made an effort with him. When he was released, because you knew Arthur wouldn’t keep him locked away forever, you wanted all of you to be friends. Siblings. Two brothers and a sister, overcoming the rocky bumps at the beginning of their journey to sail smoothly through the rest of life together.

“You’ll know that soon,” you promised him, “you’ll feel it just as Arthur and I do.”

Orm let the minutest of smiles appear on his face as he nodded to himself, feasibly attempting to convince himself that that would be the case. He didn’t know Arthur. He didn’t know how much longer he would be here. He didn’t know when Arthur would strike up that talk he’d mentioned. But something in your voice, that optimism he’d come to admire in you, rekindled the fire in his chest a little more each time you came to see him.

He flicked his eyes up to meet yours. “Perhaps,” he agreed, just as you marked your page and closed your book, moving to stand to your feet.

“I’d better go,” you said. “Can I...come back tomorrow?”

Orm breathed a short laugh. “I’ll check my schedule.”

“Bye,” you said with a fond roll of your eyes. You knocked three times on the cell door and waited for it to open. Orm nodded once when you sent him a small wave and left, and then the door shut, and he was alone once more.

“Until tomorrow,” he said, falling back on the mattress. “Little sister.”

Aquaman Masterpost

send me the first sentence of a fanfic and i’ll write the next five, except i don’t know when to stop writing so i guarantee there’ll be more than five

#aquaman #orm marius #orm x reader #orm #orm marius x reader #ocean master #sister!reader #sister reader #teen reader #teen!reader #mine #baby fic #drabble

[mixelation]

Do you have any opinions on Sasori/Itachi as a... I hesitate to say couple, because of their respective personalities, but as a sexual duo I guess. IDK what the cause of their hooking up would be, but I'm sure you could come up with something

(Tumblr is not letting me add a question mark to this ask for some reason)

TBH I have a hard time wrapping my head around this ship because I don't really see either as particularly interested in sex. Sasori does have interest in exerting control over other people's bodies, so I can buy him being interested in a very particular type of sex (the type where he is in charge ;) ) as a replacement for his preferred type of art. I just... can't really see Itachi going with it?

This is a lot of extrapolation/my own headcanons, but I think Itachi is very into the idea of romance over sex. In his personal fantasies, he gets his world where he can sit back and be a pacifist... and then what? He grew up heir to an important clan, and so I think he internalized a lot of ideas about getting married and having kids, but also he spent his teenage years as a missing-nin so I think his ideas about marriage were allowed to simmer as a weird little fantasy without ever having to confront what marriage might look like from the inside. So he wants a partner for some very bland generic romance, where the sex part is secondary for him because that's for having kids.

Now, that is what I think Itachi thinks he wants, not what he necessary would actually want/need if he got his romantic partner. For most ships I like with Itachi, the sex is a result of the other party going "well, I like it; it'll be fun and feel good" and he's like "okay. :)" I think he'd probably like feeling close to his partner. But I have a hard time seeing him wanting sex for the sake of sex? Meanwhile Sasori is the opposite-- it think it'd be easier to have him fixate on someone and then want to peel their skin off and then scale it back to "okay, sex then," than a romance.

I can kind of see Itachi seeking out a sexual partner just to see what it's about, I just can't wrap my head around why he'd go to Sasori for this. On the flip side I can see Sasori fixating on someone and having that mellow into something LIKE a romance because he likes them, I just... don't see what he'd enjoy about Itachi's company. LMAO

I kind of played with the idea of "what if Itachi likes turning his brain off while Sasori does all the work" (which is how I wrote Sasori/Kakashi) but I think Itachi is such a control freak that he would need a lot of established trust to not just like. Panic? At the loss of control. And a panicked Itachi is a mean, violent Itachi. :(

Here are two options maybe I guess....

Sasori gets fixated on Itachi for Aesthetic reasons. He can't beat Itachi in a fight so he just ends up sort of following him around and insulting him. Itachi goes, "Oh, he's flirting" and THAT'S why he goes to him when he has An Itch To Scratch. (Neither them try hooking up a second time because it goes. Poorly. Bad communication all around.)

Itachi ends up going to Sasori for Lung Reasons. Sasori keeps complaining he's NOT a pharmacy and he's definitely not a doctor. But it is an excuse for them to talk one-on-one, and for Itachi to decide he does kind of trust Sasori and for Sasori to decide yeah maybe he CAN'T murder Itachi but wouldn't it be nice if--- Anyway, Sasori keeps being like "I would prefer if you just laid down and didn't move" and Itachi AGREES but then he panics halfway through and uno-reverse-cards and Sasori is SCREAMING. Why are you like this??? (They hook up multiple times because both are convinced they can make this work if the other one would just stop being Insane.)

[messymindofmine]

I'm just going to say one thing before tonight's episode. At this point we only have clips that are literally used to create drama to go off on right now. We don't know what's going to happen but from everything that we have been told, they will be having some kind of conversation about this and they will remain united.

What I don't understand is why ppl are so quick to take sides. Carlos not wanting kids is perfectly valid for whatever reason. It actually makes sense. He spent his whole life so convinced that he would never have the life he has now. He was convinced that he'd disappointed his parents by being who he is and tried to marry a woman so that he could fit the mould he thought he had to fit into. But now he's realizing that he doesn't have to change himself or adhere to traditional heteronormative ideals to be happy. He kept his marriage to Iris a secret from the man he loves for their entire relationship but now it's out in the open. Now that marriage is over and hes embarking on a real marriage with the man he loves, it makes sense that after a lifetime of trying to so hard to fit into what tradition expected him to, he's questioning whether or not he even wants all the things he believed he did. He wants to get married but maybe he's questioning whether having children is something he truly wants or was just led to believe he did. And it's also understandable that he wants to enjoy him and TK being husbands. Again, this is something he never thought he'd have so of course he'd want to enjoy it as much as possible. It doesn't even seem as if he's saying he never wants kids. But I do agree that of you're not 100% certain that you want kids then that means you shouldn't have them.

That said, TK wanting kids is also valid. He didn't grow up in a stable household and it left it's mark on him. I can see how he'd want kids so that he can have the family he always wanted. But his assumption that Carlos thinks that he'd be a bad father shows that there are other issues at play and it's important for them to talk about this bc if he's more into the idea of having kids to fix the pain his own childhood caused him then that's not a good reason to have kids.

This isn't a situation where one person is right and the other is wrong. This is a situation of communication. Its a situation where they need to actually talk about what they see in their future and try to come to some agreement. It doesn't have to be one conversation either. They can decide to just wait a while and keep talking about it in the meantime. They have time, they don't have to have kids right away.

All that said, people are allowed to be upset. I don't like seeing any type of anger towards any of the characters but I do understand why. From what I can see some people are upset bc it feels like Carlos saying he doesn't want kids takes their fantasy of dad!Tarlos away. I don't think so. That's the beauty of fanfic. You can write whatever you want. Even if they decide to never have kids, nothing is stopping you from writing them as dad in your own fics. But just bc people are upset with Carlos right now doesn't mean that they don't want to see his character development or that they don't want to see him as anything other than TK's partner. You can love a character and appreciate their growth be upset with them at times. Carlos has been put on a pedestal for 3 seasons and even though he's the same character he's always been now, we're seeing his flaws explored more. I don't think it's unreasonable for people to be upset at certain things especially when he's behaving in less than ideal ways. He was deflecting the conversation as TK tried to talk to him and I think people are allowed to be annoyed about that. TK has been getting hate since 1x02 despite all his growth and many of us have had to put up with it for 4 seasons now. Any time there was a conflict in the prior 3 seasons, TK bore the brunt of people's anger even when Carlos was also to blame. Like with the breakup. And people are still getting mad at TK now for being unreasonable. So it's not like only people are only mad at one of them right now. We should be able to criticize a character for certain behaviors without others saying that we don't want to see them develop or we only want to see them act a certain way. Carlos has a habit of deflecting important conversations and it's not healthy in a relationship. I think people are allowed to be upset that he's doing this now. It doesn't mean that they hate him now or they don't want to see him developing. The same thing happened at the beginning of the season where people couldn't express their upset at Carlos having kept his marriage a secret without being inundated with messages dredging up every mistake TK has ever made. Carlos has flaws. We can acknowledge those flaws and appreciate his development while still being annoyed at his behavior at times. Just like we do for all the other characters.

Also for all we know, this episode could end up similar to how 4x02 did with them talking and having that beautiful moment in the end where TK opens up about his insecurities and Carlos reassures him and opens up about his own insecurities in return and they express their love for each other. And people were so upset when they released the promo clip bc it felt like TK's feelings were just going to be used as a punchline. But then everything calmed down after the couch scene. And then everyone was mad again after 4x03 bc they were either mad at Carlos for his behavior or they were trying to pin the blame onto TK. But then things calmed down again after 4x04. I actually wouldn't be surprised of that's what ends up happening

#911 on fox #911 lone star #911 lone star s4 #tk strand #carlos reyes #tarlos

[dawnanddorisqna]

How do you two feel about Disney's recent "live-action" remakes? I mean I can safely assume you're not fans but could you be more specific?

I don’t mind some of them really. The ones that tell a new story are kinda fun for me. Like Cruella. And Doris is shaking her head at me so I’m going to keep talking out loud while I type. Seeing real actors do a new twist on something can be fun. It’s just when they tell the same story that I think it’s boring, and the CG characters rarely hit as well as the hand drawn ones. Those full on remakes that just rinse and repeat are not really allowed in this house. Only 90’s Lion King here. A movie like the Little Mermaid could be great with a new story. Go closer to the crazy dark story or something, but don’t just retread. And Doris is pacing and wanting to rant probably….so…I…won’t….take…..toooooooo….much…..time…to…

Thank you so much for this question, it’s something I do think of a lot. Now of course, remakes of animated properties isn’t anything new. It’s been something of an event for years, having major stars play live versions of animated characters. It never overshadowed the animated characters, and actually brought more attention to them, and Disney was at the forefront of this, producing live versions of classics.

Yes, This is a Disney produced film, and I enjoyed it.

It wasn’t until about the 1990s that they brought an adaptation to theaters based on one of their own films. The Jungle Book.

This was under the leadership of Michael Eisner, who would also see the studio create remakes of 101 Dalmatians. His protege Bob Igor would take these same practices and continue them once he became CEO. I was honestly fine with these remakes, mostly because they were telling new stories or a different perspective. That changed once Alice in Wonderland came out in 2010

This was a troubling film. Not for being a poor view in my opinion, but for being so successful. This film made a Billion at the box office. When something makes that much, that’s basically film now. It hit that mark and I saw a flood of remakes coming, and they did.

Animation has always had a difficult time in the minds of studio execs. They see it as for kids and rarely want to try anything new or invest in stories with it. Alice breaking the box office confirmed to them that live action and photo realistic is for kids AND adults. So why invest in what’s only for kids when they could also get the adults?

I really hate this form of thinking, because these films wouldn’t exist without the original animated version. That’s all they stand on. There’s a reason the Aladdin trailer has the cave of wonders and why the Lion King showed the circle of life. It’s all just nostalgia bait. No creativity, nothing new, just a checklist of familiar things. It’s lazy and unfortunate that it keeps bringing in so much money for the studios.

Like Dawn said, Some of these films do tell new stories, and I wish all went that route, but most are simply painting over films to retell the same story but with lifeless visuals.

Animation is so deeply undervalued, and this is a crime, as it’s one of the most heartfelt methods of storytelling. Every frame is cared for, characters becoming so expressive and visuals that can connect to any generation and grip your heart. It’s magic on film, and there’s now people in charge of this industry who couldn’t care less about it.

This was on full display at the 2022 Academy Awards (at really every Oscars, but this one is of note)

These ladies are lovely, but this was a low moment. Taking the time before the award to show a trailer for the live action little mermaid, having the host put down animation, and then the award presenters being 3 actresses who play live action versions of animated characters, the message was clear. This industry doesn’t care about animation, live action is what really matters.

There were apologies after this, but if you look at how Disney advertises their films, the live action remakes get the brunt of the advertising, animation gets the scraps. Where the 90s remakes were simply fun, we’re now in a full overdrive of them.

None of this should be a surprise. Studios go for whatever makes money and what seems easier, and these films have a formula they find very simple. Choose something people remember, get a popular actor, add CG and a lot of familiar scenes and watch the money flow in.

A real show of how greedy this system has become came in the same year as that Oscar display. A year Disney would take one of their most beloved films, one that was Walt’s favorite, one that became part of the theme of Disney and was considered untouchable…and they remade it.

The original Pinocchio didn’t perform well when it opened (due to a war breaking out on its premiere date). This was crushing for Walt, but when it was rereleased it found an audience and became a classic. This film has a lot of amazing effects with water, magic and references being used in a clever way. Ideas of a sequel or any continuation were always shut down because this was one of the special films of the studio. But as time went on, and the remakes proved wildly profitable, we were bound to see this care fade away and bring us what many of us feared.

Nothing is untouchable after this. And sure enough, we’ll soon be getting Bambi, Moana, Lilo and Stitch, the Aristocats and countless others. While on the animation front? Those are announced, like Wish, but not with the fervent need that the live action films are.

Now, do I hate the idea of live action remakes? Not really, but obviously there are things I wish they’d change. For one, I think it would be great if animated films were treated equally and given the same amount of attention by studios. If they were, I think we’d have another renaissance on our hands.

Second, STOP JUST TELLING THE SAME STORY! It’s all nostalgia references, and if the studio couldn’t plug in familiar songs, scenes and lines throughout, these films wouldn’t be made. But I think it would be far more rewarding to get a new experience with familiar characters. Tell us what happened years later, focus on a new character, or retell it and stick to the original story or let a director really put their stamp on it and create something different. Right now these films are amazingly dull with the same story and visuals that are pointlessly realistic. How do you remake something and take the life out of the characters and call it a feature!? If you don’t know how to show an animal with emotion (embarrassing, that’s animation 101. The directors should trust animation more), then find another way or just don’t do it.

Third, use these remakes as a vehicle to lift new artists. Give a new promising actor a chance to become the live face of this character. Let a new director show their style and start a career. These are guaranteed hits and it would be good to bring some new talent into the industry with it.

And last, limit yourself on these. With so many being rushed into live action remakes, I feel like Pixar films aren’t far behind. And now that Universal is getting into it by remaking Dreamwork’s How To Train Your Dragon, we seem to be on a path of over abundance. Wild, as we seem to already be there, but it’s getting worse.

I would much rather see a remake that takes a new path come out every few years, than the constant barrage we have now.

Thank you again for the question,

Doris.

#animation #doris doodle #toontown #dawn doodle #cartoon #doris and dawn #doris #animated #disney #disney remakes #live action remakes #opinion post

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #153

I had an idea for a new music box, so I worked on planning it out a little today:

This time, I thought the thing to do would be to get the melody correct in LMMS; I don't intend to put it to music box paper. Instead, I'm going to use Audacity to put the notes in the spots where I need them to be.

There are a few reasons for this. The first one is that the music box I have cannot play the song at the tempo I need; I can establish a BPM within Audacity to help me put notes where I need them to go. Second, the mechanical structure of the music box does not allow for a single note to be struck more than once in rapid succession, which is a bit of an issue for some things. Third, as much as I enjoy the zen-like repetitiveness that comes with marking and punching out music box dots, it really starts to hurt my hands after a while; I can't imagine the repetitive motion of using the hole puncher is very good for my joints and tendons...

I thought I would have gotten more done on it today, but I got distracted with doing some writing. Whoops, ahahaha. I regret nothing though; if I was so easily distractible today, I probably needed the rest anyhow.

I also made a tea today. This time, I brewed the blend I made with you in mind alongside the vanilla rose tea that I think you would like. Here are the results:

I sweetened it with lilac syrup and cream; today's swirls were pretty stellar, I think:

...Admittedly, I didn't do much else today, other than play some video game called Vampire Survivors with M. We unlocked a character called Luminaire today, and so far, that one is my favorite!

...Hey, Sephiroth? When's the last time you rested, anyhow? When's the last time you did anything fun? When was the last time you decided that something is your favorite thing? If it has been a long time, I hope you'll get to do any of these things, soon.

What do you like to do for fun, anyway? Besides sneaking into the Company Training Room and playing the game with Genesis and Angeal that involves balancing dumbapples on each other's heads and throwing swords at them, I mean? Which one of you three came up with that game, anyway? Did you have any others, I wonder?

...So many questions that you'll never be able to answer. But I like to think about these things anyway. I wonder who you are outside of the expectations imposed upon you by others? Given how naturally kindness and gentleness come to you, I imagine that someone like you might have gotten into gardening, or maybe cooking, or even dancing or art. Or maybe you would like singing, or playing an instrument of some kind...

...Oh!! Curious; do you play piano like Cloud and Tifa do? If so, is it something you enjoy, or was it imposed upon you by the SOLDIER program? Hmmm...

Maybe you would even like some types of video games. I think maybe Terraria might be something you'd be able to enjoy, or maybe even Stardew Valley. In those ones, you get to grow things and build things. Tell you what - if ever you find yourself in my neighborhood, pop by my house and I'll teach you all about how to play these; they're relaxing and a lot of fun.

And the music is nice in these, too. Here, I'll show you my favorite track from Terraria:

...Hey, Sephiroth? Do you like the rain? I like it when it's warm. I like the way it feels on my skin, and I like the way it smells, and I like to jump in great big puddles afterwards, like this:

Have you ever jumped in a puddle just because? If you have, then what was it like for you? And if you have not, then I hope you get to try it sometime soon; it's a lot of fun, especially if it's a super huge puddle and you're doing it with someone else and you can splash each other!! If you do try it someday, please tell me how it goes, okay? I'll look forward to hearing all about it someday, maybe, as impossible as that is.

Suppose that's all for today's letter. I've rambled a little, but something tells me that you probably don't mind. Something tells me that maybe, just maybe, you might enjoy the simple fact that someone out here in this great big huge universe is trying to talk to you about ordinary things, wishing that they could enjoy them together with you.

I love you. I'll write to you again very soon, so please stay safe...

Your friend, Lumine

#sephiroth #ThankYouFFVIIDevs #ThankYouFF7Devs #ThankYouSephiroth #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy vii crisis core #final fantasy 7 crisis core #final fantasy crisis core #ffvii crisis core #ff7 crisis core #crisis core #ff7r #final fantasy vii remake #final fantasy 7 remake #ffvii remake #ff7 remake #final fantasy vii rebirth #final fantasy 7 rebirth #ffvii rebirth #ff7 rebirth #final fantasy 7 ever crisis #ffvii ever crisis #ff7 ever crisis #ffvii first soldier #rambling #restful days #wholesome

[angelo-the-doctor-of-feelings]

Hey there, Mike! I saw your post about diet culture and I gotta say that you stated some pretty good points. Although, I was wondering if you can possibly give us an infodump on diet culture entirely with credible sources stating why foods aren’t bad for you? As well as as an faq of sorts for those who think that shaming or lecturing others for their eating habits will help them make healthier eating choices? And maybe include some resources as well for those looking for support as they’re trying to break off from diet culture? Maybe Dr. Feelings could chip in as well also? You don’t have to answer my question if you don’t want to. I’ll understand. I hope you have a good day/night!

Hello anon! ✨️

I'm happy you liked my small rant about diet culture. I didn't know anyone read that -

I don't know if you would call this an infodump since I'm not autistic, but I will do my best to give you all the insight I have! 🧡🤞🏾

Each source will be a hidden hyperlink marked with an emoji that resembles my favourite food because I say so! ✨️

1. Food is not bad (unless it's poisonous, molded or you're allergic to it!)

Food has no moral value. Food is neutral. It has nothing to do with being good or bad or more or less disciplined.

Food is fuel. We can agree that all food is fuel. Your body needs calories to function & so calories are not the enemy. Food also has nutrients your body needs & of course: different foods have different nutrients.

While there are no "bad" foods, it is true that certain foods don't provide much physiological benefit to the body as others. Some foods have ingredients that aren't nutritious for the body, like trans fats & artificial additives. But naturally, your body won't really 'like' them. They are hard to digest & they can cause trouble.

Balance is key!

[🍕] [🥞] [🍪]

2. Why you should not comment on the food choices of another person

... even though you mean well & care about them.

You aren't them.

Hihi, did you think there was more? I can name many other reasons, but they all are summoned up in these three errr four words: YOU ARE NOT THEM.

The ONLY case, in which you were allowed to say something about someone's eating habits, would be if you were their doctor. Which you are likely not.

To be fair, it's hard to watch someone struggle or make the 'unhealthy choice'. It's only natural that you want to help. But only if you really think it would benefit - most of the time, the person is aware of their problem. I think you have to consider the situation & the relationship status.

3. Breaking free from Diet Culture

This is a tough one & it's not easy. As Dr. Feelings, I can give you these tips, but the list is bottomless.

Think of your body as your friend (it is).

Do a lot of self-work: work on your selfworth, on your mindset, on your stress management & your emotional well-being. Consider going to therapy to heal your mind & to improve your mental health.

Define why you want to be free from it, what do you want to achieve? Ask yourself why diet culture has a hold on you & why you let it.

You might want to check out the hashtags #foodfreedom #ditchdietculture & #edrecovery out on social media. There can be a lot of positivity & help there too.

Keep your distance from ANYTHING that screams diet. Like, really. Not worth it. Be aware that gyms & diet companies get more prominent in spring, early summer & as the new year's eve approaches (for obvious reasons). Mostly, it's JUST marketing.

4. Resources for Recovery 🧡

I have found this nice website thay can give you some information on Eating Disorders & about Recovery:

& also this website:

I know you are all strong fighters & I'm very proud of you all! Keep going, you're amazing!

(Wow, that was a lot. I hope you got something from it at least, I'm not as brilliant as Donnie >/////<)

I love you all! 🧡✨️

#dr feelings is at your service #mikeys world of feelings #mikeys magic family #neon leons messy mind palace #donnies exceptional mind #raph a roni blog #turtle net #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #dr feelings #diet culture is bs #food freedom #mental health support #ed recovery #recovery #comfort #food #eating disoder recovery

[frozenambiguity]

delusionaid asked:

❛ i think i have a bit more experience with this than you do. ❜ Wagner says grumpily.

The reason behind the captain's visit to Schulz's Blacksmith is simple.

During his travels to Sumerian lands, he had lived adventures aplenty. New experiences had lurked around every corner, aching to be met with open arms. And welcomed with open arms they had been indeed. Each time a new path unfolded, Kaeya's gaze glistened with interest, his need for spontaneity satiated.

One of the many novelties incorporated into his life had been theatre. Though some could find the choice curious, it was one as natural as life itself. As a young child, he had admired stories, growing fascinated with each new tale Diluc and Adelinde told him by the fireplace on rainy nights, or in his bed, when bedtime was soon to arrive. As he grew older, he relied on books for entertainment during his leisure time. And now, though time was of the essence, he maintained the tradition alive.

Embodying his characters and allowing them to speak through him had been a smooth task for the knight. Let us not jump to conclusions — this is not a matter of pride or vainglory. Rather, it had been precisely so because the material he had been given to work with did not hit too far from home. It was, in a way, familiar, though the need to improvise had risen once or twice.

Now, one may wonder — how does this new interest connect to his visit to Wagner? Again, it is a question of simple resolution, though it is one the captain does not bother to share with the taller, older man. To deliver credible performances, Kaeya had been bestowed the opportunity to try new garments. His usual Icy Featherflight attire is already fashionable for his standards, but Sailwind Shadow brims with details. One may go unnoticed, but that is simply because Kaeya has not given it much use.

Until today.

«All I require is that you make the right modifications as you see fit, allowing this to be the — » 'Deadliest' is a term that comes to Kaeya's mind as he shows Wagner his newly acquired weapon. It soon dissipates. « — most effective dagger ever seen to date. I would also like you to incorporate a few markings and details on the steel, if possible. All while maintaining its charm, of course».

These types of modifications are important, after all. It had been a simple weapon, to be used as a mere prop for the plays. As such, that affected the overall quality of the weapon. In truth, Kaeya had been a tad surprised to see it had been a real weapon and not a fake one.

«So, think you'll be able to do the job?» His choice of words is now more trivial. A mistake on his part. The question, along with his rather specific request, makes Wagner's grumpy huff come to life. Arriving at that conclusion, Kaeya steps away, giving the man the space he requires to study the weapon. Both of his hands rise up, proposing a truce.

All right, all right. He gets it. The man's pride is on the line here.

«Understood. No need to tell me twice. You are our renowned blacksmith, after all. I trust your craft. I wouldn't have come here otherwise». And though it may sound as if he is sweetening up his words for Wagner to go through with his request ( which, to an extent, he is ), Kaeya genuinely believes the man's talent.

«What's the final verdict? Can I count on you on this one?»

#【 ic | fool you once; fool you twice. 】 #delusionaid #{{ i've never interacted with a wagner before wwww this will be interesting }} #{{ but kaeya with daggers is hot af ngl }}

[askbohemiancompany]

Somebody Home

(Previous)

Gingerly, Grohl began to open his eyes. While there was still the red mark, Lonnie said to the others it will fade away after sometime. The tangrowth almost wanted to keep them closed. Any light felt to intense now.

“Grohl!” Gwen sounded relieved. She did not care if this zoroark would give her shit for showing affection.

Or at least before she stopped herself. Grohl was still recovering, she had to be mindful of that.

After an awkward pause, both Grohl and Gwen looked at each other. Gwen had the smile that Grohl had only seen a few times, but he knew the likely reason why she was smiling.

“How long was I out for?” The tangrowth asked, almost ready to hear a few months.

“You have been out for two weeks. Lenox pulled some strings and had a friend’s darkrai come to help jump start your brain.” There was apprehension to advise on the potential concern for how much the dark type saw of his memory. It could have been any number of things the two did not disclose to others.

“Could you give me and Grohl some privacy please?”

With that, the zoroark nodded and left the hospital room, leaving the two alone.

“Grohl. Can I ask you a question? Please be honest with me on this,” there was a lull. Both were nervous over what the other was going to say. Gwen had to bite the bullet. “Did I...ever make you feel uncomfortable about saying something?”

Well shit. The tangrowth realized everyone likely knew about his medical condition. He had to clear the air about why he did not tell anyone.

“Not at all. I just did not want to have anyone worry about my medical condition. There was actually another reason I did not want to disclose it though.”

The psychic was relieved, but she did not have time for inner joy. What Grohl had to say could be important. She looked intently at the grass type, indicating she was listening.

“You know how I specialize in killing ground, rock and water types? Well, when I kill and take their life force, it actually makes my issues improve. It does more than that, it gives me a high. I just did not want to have Freddy not hire people or take jobs due to this,” a look of shame went over the tangrowth’s eyes. “I do not want any new hires to be uncomfortable with me if they were one of those types. I also was worried if I ever had a energy craving and lose control.”

The psychic slowly moved her hand towards Grohl’s should, wanting to allow Grohl to give silent permission.

The grass type allowed it, nodding his head.

Her hand rested on his shoulder. “Grohl. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are catastrophizing. You have been around plenty of rock, water and ground types. You have never acted out once. As for scaring new recruits. Trust me, Freddy or I would probably do that before you ever would.”

Both laughed at the joke. There was truth in what Gwen said. Everyone in the company would likely make people feel uncomfortable in their own unique way. Eccentricities, powers, attitude, those were more than one way to make someone nervous.

“I guess that is silly, yeah. Still, I need to be careful with certain of my creations. I have to make sure no one touches them. For everyone’s safety.”

No. Grohl was already thinking on his security system. Gwen shot him a concerned look, she wanted to stop him.

“Listen Grohl. I understand you are important to the system you made, but maybe we should not bother with that right now. It is what has been burning you out for the last few days. You need to just let that go for now.”

The tangrowth began to lean upward. “I have to maintain it, if it drops, we will be open for attack and the bombs can go off and hurt someone.”

Gently nudging the grass type back onto the bed. Gwen exhaled, not breaking eye contact at all. “Grohl. Please.”

Begrudgingly, he sighed. “I’ll leave it be for now. I’ll focus on recovering first.”

“That’s better,” The old Gwen was back, her confident, aloof and strong swagger was back in swing. “So do you want me to let everyone know you aare awake. I’ll take a moment to readjust and-”

Not that Grohl would get the chance, Lenox peered into the room and saw Grohl was awake. She was elated! The hawlucha then ran to go get Lonnie from wherever they were.

“Guess I don’t get to relax on my own.”

The friends chuckled, then gave each other a look of care for one another.

“Thank you Gwen.” Grohl raised hand up as if to fist bump.

“Ey, glad to have you back. Buddy.” Fists made contact, then they made it explode.

#plot #Grohl the Tangrowth #Gwen the gothitelle #lenox the hawlucha

[whatintheatualfuck]

My Take on Heartslabyul

 * Apologies for any formatting errors or inconstancies, I wrote this in google docs and copy/pasted it into Tumblr. Feedback is always welcome!   Politics without principles,  Wrath - Riddle Rosehearts -   Riddle's chapter starts with the premises of Riddle's overbearing rules which are blatantly unnecessary and does not help anyone, such as having to wear pink while feeding the flamingos (List of all rules said in-game). Failing to follow these rules results in Riddle using his Unique magic on the offenders, which blocks the victims ability to use magic using a magic collar. One such instance is Ace. Now we agree Ace has half a brain cell but that's besides the point. Ace got collared for eating a tart that belonged to Riddle.

   Things come to a boiling point during an unbirthday party, where Ace brought a tart to replace the one he ate. But apparently that specific type of tart is not allowed to be eaten one the day of an unbirthday. Ace complains of the ridiculous rules (whereas the other students are too scared to speak up) and is promptly removed from the dorm. Trey, the vice dorm leader, had been a childhood friend of Riddle and lets Ace and the MC in on some info and a sneak peak into the roots of Riddles trauma.   A confrontation happens when MC and Co. return to the unbirthday party the following day. Riddle gets called out about his borderline oppression and Trey gets called out on his enabling behavior, leading to a mental breakdown, and by extension, overblot from Riddle. -    During Riddle’s overblot, he gives hints as to why he enforces such strict rules and where they come from. Before he overblots, he mostly shows himself to be the lone enforcer.   "Those foolish enough to disobey me, I have no need for them in my world."   "I am the lay in my world. I AM the rules!"   "No other response than 'Yes, Lord Riddle' is acceptable!" After all that, nearing the edge of overblotting, he goes on to allude to where, or who, the rules and his strict attitude came from.   “I am… I AM!!! Absolutely, definitely CORRECT!!!”     “...If not, then what did I endure it all for…?”   “Was… I wrong? That can’t be right. … Mother …” Here, he briefly contemplates the pain that following such strict rules have caused him, wondering if he was really in the right. -    After MC and co. fight Riddles overblot, he passes out and recalls the root of his trauma, his Mothers strict, overprotective, and overachieving rules. As a nurse, she was very controlling over diet (that that there's anything wrong with trying to be healthy), and wanted Riddle to get the highest marks possible, if any rule was broken there would be hard punishment, usually increasing study time and decreasing recreational time. While his mother was ultimately trying to take care of his physical health, it was doing more harm than good to his mental health.

-    Rather than teaching Riddle how to take care of his health responsibility and how to balance his school work with home life / fun, she really only taught him that school was more important than his mental health, nothing comes above it. In Riddle's chapter, it's exaggerated to show how unnecessary Riddle's rules were in present time, but from anyone else's perspective of the rules Riddle's mother set in the past were also unnecessary, but in both, Riddle didn't see the reasonableness of said rules, both past and present. He didn't see that he was only passing on his past pain to the present students under his care.   Mother: “I should have never given you so much free time. I have to keep an even better watch over you”   Riddle: "In my town, Mother was most respected. That makes her correct." -    We are really only shown he's broken under the pressure when his rules, and by extension, his mothers rules, were rightfully questioned. I will, again, put emphasis on one phrase he kept repeating pre overblot and during the overblot fight; “I am... I AM!!! Absolutely, definitely CORRECT!!!” He hadn't before taken time to question his mothers rules and regulations, so having them questioned and ridiculed to such an extent made him furious. Perhaps because he thought it was normal, everyone had the same rules, or maybe he thought “I followed these rules, why shouldn't anyone else? They worked for me, they will work for others.” Although, I have the belief that Riddle's mother would always tell him “I'm only trying to help you!” when he started to doubt her, which would explain why he was so angry in his chapter. Not just angry that his childhood structure was questioned, but also at his mother and his self. “I’m only trying to help them be the best person they can, why do they hate me for it?” -    After his overblot, Riddle’s perspective starts to shift, which we can see immediately after he wakes up;   "I really wanted to eat that mont blanc (tart)...  The roses are fine white, and the flamingos are fine being pink...  I like putting honey in my tea more than sugar cubes and I like milk tea more than lemon tea...  I want to chat with everyone while we eat...  I wanted to spend more time with Trey and everyone else."

Riddle is starting to see the unfairness of the nature of his rules, and realizing that things are fine without them. He starts to loosen up about his strict rules, one step at a time with Trey's help, who as a bonus, realizes he was only enabling Riddle, his rules, and the pain he was inflicting on students. Trey: “I'm sorry too. Even though I knew you were suffering I pretended not to notice." , "...Riddle, your way of doing things is wrong.” And during the ‘revenge’ unbirthday party, we can see Riddle taking steps to reduce rules;

Riddle: "Inside the teapot there is a sleeping... ah. Actually it's fine without." Trey: "You don't have to change everything right away. Instead of putting jam on the mouse's nose, try putting it (jam) on a scone." Trey: "Change 'it's worthless without' to 'it would be nice to have', right?"

#twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #ace trappola #duece spade #twst #twst headcanons #headcanon

[amplifyme]

@randomfoggytiger

Let's talk about Walk Slowly. This episode wrecks me. Every single time.

Vincent's walk as he carries Cathy's body back to her apartment; and his vigil until dawn forces him to go.

And that's where the tears start for me. I often think about the Classic fans who never watched S3 and all they missed out on in just this single episode. They never got to see Vincent kiss his Catherine good-bye, or experience with her loved ones the grief they shared over her death, or hear Vincent's eulogy. Oh well, their loss.

Vincent finally seeking out Father, and Father knowing Vincent's grief and guiding him through it... wow. Vincent's fight with the Other, Catherine's necklace, remembering her words, shocking Father to death with the revelation. Joe and Jen and the FUNERAL-- all the people Above and Below.

Yes, yes, yes! Nothing to add here.

DIANA. DIANA, DIANA, DIANA. I love her. I never would have imagined her so serious-- for some reason, I read her voice as fast talking, higher pitched-- a far cry from measured and deliberate.

She's very deliberate and very introspective. As I told you before, she lives in her head. And I think she has the type of personality that once she figures out you're okay and she decides she likes you, there would be times you wouldn't be able to shut her up. She just generally plays things really close to the vest. She doesn't like to give any part of herself away until she feels like you've earned it.

I adore that Diana "met" Catherine first, and really connected with her through her little doll. (I also noticed that she seems to get flashes or insights by touching objects... hmmmmm.)

Though I liked her from the get-go, this scene in C's apartment sealed the deal for me. From the second she shoved the cop out the door, shut off the lights, and just stood in the dark soaking everything up, I was hooked. "I bet you had a name, didn't you?" Oh, my sweet Diana, I adore you.

She absolutely gets insights and impressions by touching things. She's a touch-sensitive empath, just like Vincent.

Did you notice the parallels between her stepping out onto the balcony for the first time and how it mirrored the shot of Cathy doing the same in the intro the first two seasons?

Mark took me by surprise, wonder how long he's going to be around.

Not as long as he'd like to be. The boy's got some stiff competition coming his way. 😉

Her interrogation of both Joe and Elliot was spectacular.

Really gives you a nice insight into how she works and her ability to cut through the BS and get down to business. Loved her asking Elliot to at least tell her whether she's looking for a dead man or not, cuz she hates wasting her time. The implication being that Elliot might've located and taken care of Vincent already. And her unrelenting questioning of Joe and the whole "Who makes you jealous?" tact. She's very good at what she does, which goes a long way in explaining why she gets to pick and choose the cases she takes on.

Oh, and another thing I just thought of. Elliot definitely knows about Vincent, and lies to Diana when she asks him. He's still keeping Cathy's secrets, even after her death.

Diana observing everyone, marking their pictures with question marks (and Father with the most.)

This was cut out in editing but during the funeral she notices Elliot exchanging looks with Father (remembering each other from when Father was locked up at Paracelsus' and Elliot first heard Vincent's name) and that's why he has three question marks on his photo instead of just one.

The children hugging Vincent while the others are at the funeral....

How heartbreaking was that?? He needed to allow himself the comfort the kids so wanted to give him. And they needed to grieve too. Read the script when you have the time. It was originally written quite differently, but I love the quiet simplicity of this better.

I had to watch Vincent's eulogy several times before I could actually pay attention to what he was saying. I was too busy picking out all the familiar faces at the funeral. I finally closed my eyes and just listened. Perlman delivered, and then some.

There was a moment when the way was still new, and I was afraid to hope. You put your hand on mine. Nothing had ever felt like that to me... like your touch. I wanted to weep. You turned and looked at me, your eyes were filled with dancing light. And I was bathed in your warmth. And I believed in that moment that even for me, all things were possible. In that moment... in your light... I felt what it is to be beautiful. How many lives were touched by you? How many lives were transformed by your courage to give... and to love? How many became beautiful in your light? Oh, we promised, always, to share the truth, always. But, Catherine, there was a truth beyond anything... beyond everything I had ever known, ever dreamed. It was the truth of all you gave, of all you sacrificed, for me. The truth of your love humbled me, silenced me. And the truth I could never share with you was the truth of how deeply I loved you. I will remember. I will remember every moment, every word, every look, every touch. Our love lives. It will live forever. Nothing will destroy us. Love does not die. You're safe. You're safe now. Sleep, my love. 😭😭😭

Okay, now that I've gotten that out of my system, let's close with something a bit more shallow. This is my favorite Vincent outfit EVER. The leather, military-like vest is perfection. And it beautifully foreshadows the battle he's about to wage.

#beauty and the beast 1987 #season 3 #walk slowly #discussion