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spnluver · 17 days

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The Ballad of a Winchester pt. 2

Summary: Dean catches his sister watching war videos, and asks why she’s doing it. She tells him the similarities she sees with him and the soldiers, and asks why he doesn’t expect the same from her.

A/N: I do not own Supernatural or any characters apart from Y/N Winchester, who is a character insert as Sam and Dean's younger sister. If any scenes seem new or unfamiliar, they are to fit her storyline. Also, in this universe, they stayed in the Kansas house, but still go to motels on out-of-state hunts.

Dean: 28, Y/N: 14

If there was one thing that Dean didn’t like bout his sister, it was that she was too smart for her own good. Often times, she would make connections that were far too mature for her age. This trait of hers was once again on display as Dean walked in to find her watching war documentaries. "Y/N, what are you doing?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing in concern.

She closed her laptop quickly, her face flushing red. “Homework,” she said.

“And that’s why you look guilty?” He asked questioningly, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against her doorway.

Y/N sighed, knowing she couldn’t keep anything from him. “Well, we are learning about World War Two in history this unit. And the teacher did show pictures and videos on the slides.”

Dean nodded, understanding her explanation but still feeling a sense of unease. "Y/N, you know you don't have to watch those videos, right? They can be pretty intense," he said, his voice filled with concern. He didn't want his little sister to be exposed to such harsh realities, not when he's been trying so hard to give her a normal life.

“It’s not during the wars,” She said honestly. Dean made his way to sit over at the edge of her bed, his eyes strict. “It’s just training.”

"Even so, those videos can be tough to watch," Dean pointed out, his concern evident in his tone. “Talk to me.”

Y/N sighed, turning to face him. “You never tell me anything,” she said choosing her words carefully. “I just... I see the similarities, Dean," Y/N admitted, her eyes meeting his. "How they're trained, how they're expected to fight... It's not much different from what we do. And I just... I want to understand why you don't want the same for me. Even your room is like a barracks," Y/N continued, her voice soft but determined. "You've always been a soldier, Dean. And I'm just trying to understand why you've fought so hard to keep me from being one too."

Dean, taken aback by her words, sighed heavily. "Y/N, being a soldier... it's not a choice I would ever want for you," he admitted, his voice filled with a mix of regret and protectiveness. "You deserve a chance at a normal life, something I never had. And I'll do everything in my power to make sure you get that chance."

“And when you talk to Dad, you always address him as 'Sir'. It's just... it all feels military-like. And not that I want to, but why don’t you make me call you that?” she asked. Now that she had Dean’s permission, all the questions she’s ever had poured out.

"Because I'm your brother, not your commanding officer," Dean responded, his tone gentle. "I don't want our relationship to be built on the same rigid structure that Dad enforced. You're my sister, Y/N, not a soldier under my command. I want you to feel comfortable with me, to see me as someone you can turn to, not just someone who gives orders. That's why I've always insisted that you call me Dean, not 'Sir'." Dean's words were filled with sincerity, a testament to his unwavering dedication to protect Y/N's innocence, despite the harsh realities of their world.

“But why does Dad expect it from you? He’s always harsher with you and Dad disowned me,” she said matter-of-factly.

"That's because Dad sees me as his soldier, as someone who's supposed to follow his orders without question," Dean explained, his voice filled with a mix of resentment and resignation. "He's always been harder on me because he expects more from me, expects me to be a certain way. But I don't want that for you, Y/N. I want you to have the freedom to be who you want to be, not what someone else expects you to be. Yes I’m strict with you. But I do it because I care about you. I want you to be safe, to have a chance at a life outside of this. I don't want you to be forced into a life of danger and uncertainty, like I was. I want you to know that you always have a choice, Y/N. And whatever you choose, I'll always be here to support you. Just keep it in the legal sphere of life.”

Y/N let out a small laugh with her brother’s attempt to lighten the mood. “I understand. Thank you,” she said.

With that, Dean smiled at his sister, his heart filled with a strange mix of pride and sadness. "Anytime, kiddo," he replied, ruffling her hair lightly. He then looked at her strictly. “Just promise me no more of this investigation crap okay?”

Y/N nodded, understanding the seriousness of his tone. "Okay, Dean. I promise," she responded, offering him a small smile. This marked a turning point in their relationship, a new understanding and respect for each other's roles and boundaries. Dean cupped her cheek gently, gave her a small, proud smile, and left her room, closing the door.

Y/N, left alone with her thoughts, couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and confusion. She was relieved that Dean cared for her, wanting to protect her from their harsh realities. But, she was also confused, grappling with the stark differences between her brother and father's expectations. She turned her attention back to her homework, her mind filled with a newfound understanding of her family's dynamics.

Later that evening, Dean came to tuck in his sister, knocking lightly on her door before entering. "Hey kiddo, time to turn in," he said, his voice soft and comforting. He checked under her bed and in her closet for monsters, a nightly ritual that always managed to bring a smile to Y/N's face, before tucking her in.

“Dean, I’m sorry I was snooping,” she said quietly. “I just wanted to know why you did those stuff.”

"It's okay, Y/N," Dean reassured her, his voice gentle. "I know you were just trying to understand. But remember, you can always come to me with your questions. I don’t want you to be exposed to things that could traumatize you.”

"Thank you, Dean," Y/N responded, her voice barely above a whisper. As Dean kissed her forehead and wished her goodnight, she felt a sense of warmth and security wash over her, a stark contrast to the harsh realities she had been grappling with. As she drifted off to sleep, she knew she was safe, protected by the unwavering love and dedication of her big brother.

Dean went back to his own room, he knew she was right. He looked around, knowing his room did indeed resemble a barracks. A single bed, a small dresser, his clothes neatly folded and arranged, his hunting gear stowed away in a trunk at the foot of the bed - it was all starkly utilitarian, a far cry from the warmth and comfort he tried to provide in Y/N's room. Even the day she was born, his mother made comments about his walls and bed, something Dean had dismissed at the time. Now, as he looked around, he couldn't help but understand what she meant. His room was a reflection of the life he had been forced into, a life he would do anything to protect Y/N from. He looked at the singular photo of his mother, one that looked like it came from the wallet of a man at war. There wasn’t even a frame. He sighed, placing it back on his nightstand, and went to sleep himself.

#dean winchester #sam and dean #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #winchester sister #y/n reader #supernatural angst #john winchester hate club

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9leaguesofmirrors · 9 months

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My Favourite Reece Shearsmith Characters

So it's Reece Shearsmith's birthday today, so I decided to celebrate this by sharing some of my favourite characters played by this fantastically talented actor

These are in no particular order

Gregory Brewster - Him Indoors

Him Indoors is a short film about a serial killer with agoraphobia. Not only is the premise very interesting, Reece delivers a chilling yet very entertaining performance as the main character. It's on YouTube if you want to watch it, which I highly reccomend you do!

Tommy - Bernie Clifton's Dressing Room

This HAD to be on the list! Reece's performance as Tommy is heartbreaking, we watch a man seems to put-together and serious slowly fall apart and lose control of his calm façade - impeccable work

Sean Stone - Chasing Shadows

Admittedly, I don't know where the watch the full show, but I have seen clips and I knew I had to put it on this list because of Reece's portrayal of an autistic person. You can tell he put a lot of thought and research into it in order to give a realistic performance, which is a testament to his dedication and how much he truly cares about the roles he plays and who he's representing

Tyler - Riddle Of The Sphinx SPOILERS BELOW

If there's one thing Reece is good at, it's how to play a chilling villain. Everything about Tyler is unnerving and he manages to be terrifying without being loud or angry all the time. It's measured and the emotion builds and builds - fantastic work!

Joseph Lisgoe - The League Of Gentlemen

I've mentioned before that the debt collectors were underused, and I simply had to talk about how extraordinary Reece's performance as Lisgoe was. He completely dives into the roles he plays and this one was no exception, not even a light smashing on his closest friend stops him from carrying on a scene (just check out the outtakes!), he simply embodies the part and delivers a performance that terrifies the cast, crew and the audience

Laurence - Merrily Merrily SPOILERS BELOW

Merrily Merrily is an Inside No. 9 episode that I can never rewatched because of how empty it made me feel - and I mean that in the best way possible! Laurence is wracked with pain over the loss of his late partner, and Reece delivers such a subtle yet haunting performance that I don't think I'll ever stop thinking about it

Ross Gaines - The League of Gentlemen

Ross is such a fun character because of how manipulative, calculating and cold he is. Not only does it set him apart from the other inhabitants of Royston Vasey, it makes his scenes with Pauline all the more tense and entertaining - and Reece really does deliver in the role. I'm glad they decided to go with this casting choice

Aiden - Thinking Out Loud

Like with Laurence, Reece delivers a hauntingly stellar performance. What makes this one really special is that it's a monologue. There's nobody for him to bounce off of or react to, he has to reach those emotions himself. And, as always, he nails it

Ollie Plimsolls - The League Of Gentlemen

I've said before that I think Ollie is one of the most cleverly written League characters and I stand by that. As a representation of the Saviour Complex and self-righteousness of people in theatre, Ollie is a character that should be easy to hate... but because of Reece's expert comedic timing and delivery, he ends up being so funny that you can't help but laugh every time he's onscreen

SPECIAL MENTION: Gilbert - Betty Blue Eyes

Reece Shearsmith said in an interview that he wasn't a great singer. Reece Shearsmith is a liar. Don't believe me? Listen to The Kind Of Man I Am from Betty Blue Eyes and thank me later

Also, if you can find it, there's a short bootleg of him in The Producers which is good too!

Of course, this are just a few of his performances and he's never delivered a bad one - whether he's playing a comedic character like Archie in The Bill or a more serious one like in Borley Rectory. And we haven't even touched on his writing skills, I can't wait to see what he does next!

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happy4sworld · 2 months

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Bad Intentions

John Nolan x Original Character x Tim Bradford

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3

Chapter Two:

Too Good To Be True - Kacey Musgraves

Genevieve searched through her closet, a frown forming with each piece of clothing she considered. The pressure to choose the perfect outfit was perplexing; she insisted it was for class, not for the man who would soon arrive, her boyfriend's father.

Her hair was styled flawlessly, secured in a half-up, half-down look, adorned with a bow. Alone in the apartment, she was grateful Henry wasn't there to witness her fretting. The time spent primping felt like a betrayal, though she tried to dismiss the notion.

She slipped into her jeans and rummaged for a specific top, a sigh of relief escaping her when she found the cream sweater she sought. A glance at her phone hastened her pace, she quickly donned the sweater, scrutinizing her reflection with a critical eye.

As she was about to abandon her quest for the ideal ensemble, a knock sounded at the door. Her heart skipped a beat as she grabbed her bag and headed to answer it.

"Good morning," he greeted her with a smile, holding two cups of coffee. "Figured you could use some caffeine."

She accepted the coffee with gratitude. "Taking me to class and buying me coffee? You're spoiling me," she said, her cheeks warming with a blush.

His laughter filled the space as she locked the door behind her. "It's only right to make a good impression on my son's first serious girlfriend," he said.

The words tightened her throat, a stark reminder of her role. She forced a laugh and followed him to his truck where he opened the passenger door for her. She pondered when Henry last showed such chivalry. She pushed the thought aside as they both settled into the vehicle, her glances toward him frequent but discreet.

"So, Genevieve, what classes are you taking?" he inquired, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel.

She turned to face him, explaining her major in computer science and minor in cybersecurity, detailing her current courses.

He glanced at her with raised eyebrows, visibly impressed. "That's remarkable, Genevieve. Have you ever considered a career with the force? They're always on the lookout for individuals with your expertise."

Genevieve clasped her hands together, a smile spreading across her face at the compliment, her lower lip caught gently between her teeth as she gazed out the window. The warmth of his praise was quickly tempered by the thoughts of Henry, casting a shadow over her upbeat mood.

She toyed with her mother's necklace, a nervous chuckle escaping her. "I've always dreamed of working for the LAPD," she confessed. "But Henry... he's not keen on the idea."

John's expression shifted, concern etching his features as he navigated the traffic. "Is that so?"

Her voice was a murmur, tinged with hesitation. "Yes, but I get it. There are inherent risks, even in a tech role with the police."

He nodded, his thumb absently tracing his lip. "Still, if it's something you're passionate about pursuing, don't let anyone dissuade you. I started as a rookie at forty, after all."

A giggle slipped from her, and she offered a smile of thanks. "What was it like, being a rookie, I mean?"

"You mean how was competing with recruits half my age?" He gave a wry snicker. "About as fun as it sounds... but worth it."

Genevieve hummed in response, a comfortable silence enveloping them as they drove on. She leaned her head against the window, lost in thought. The complexities of her emotions were a knot she couldn't untangle. The truck came to a halt beside the life-sciences building.

"Thank you, again, for the ride," she said, her gratitude genuine. She reached for the door, keen to distance herself from the confusing pull of his presence.

John's hand on her shoulder gave her pause. "Anytime. And if there's anything else you need, just say the word."

His sincerity was palpable, a testament to his character. She nodded, a wave of emotions swelling within her. Exiting the truck, she felt his eyes follow her. She offered a small, parting smile before stepping into the building, the flutter in her stomach persisting.

She battled the turmoil within, reminding herself that her heart belonged to Henry, not John. As she navigated through the crowd, the weight of the bag was a grounding presence. She sought refuge in the bathroom, hoping for a moment of solitude.

The empty room granted her a moment's peace. She winced at the red mark from her bag's strap and vowed to lighten its load later. Pulling her hair over one shoulder, she sought to cool down, but the effort was futile. Confusion of her reaction to John lingered; she prided herself on choosing the safe, predictable types, not those who sent her into a tailspin with a mere touch.

Suddenly, a loud bang pierced the quiet, sending a jolt through her. The unmistakable sound of a gunshot echoed, followed by screams and chaos in the hallway. Panic surged, propelling her into a stall where she climbed onto the toilet, concealing her presence.

She pressed her back against the cold tile of the stall, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. The world outside had erupted into chaos, the sounds of gunshots tearing through the once peaceful morning. Her hands shook violently as she clasped them over her mouth, trying to silence the sobs that threatened to escape.

Tears streamed down her face, hot and relentless, as she crouched in the cramped space. The fear was a living thing inside her, clawing at her throat, threatening to choke her with its intensity. She could hear the screams, the running footsteps, the cries for help that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.

Another gunshot rang out, so close it felt like it was right outside the door. She flinched, her whole-body tensing, and a whimper slipped through her fingers. The metallic taste of fear filled her mouth, and she could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage, a desperate drumbeat in the silence that followed.

The bathroom door creaked, and footsteps echoed on the tile floor. Her mind raced with terrifying possibilities, each more gruesome than the last. She was paralyzed, her eyes squeezed shut, tears leaking from beneath her lashes.

The voice--his voice--pierced the fog of her terror. "Genevieve?" It was a lifeline, a beacon of hope in the darkness that had descended upon her world.

She collapsed; her body no longer able to sustain the weight of her fear. The stall door swung open, and there he was--Nolan, his face etched with concern. He didn't hesitate as he knelt beside her, his arms wrapping around her trembling form.

"You're okay. I got you," he whispered, his voice steady and sure.

In his embrace, the sobs she had been holding back broke free, her body wracked with the force of them. He held her, his presence a solid reassurance that she was safe, that the nightmare was over-- for now.

#john nolan x reader #john nolan #the rookie fanfic #the rookie #tim bradford #tim bradford x reader

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my-rose-tinted-glasses · 12 days

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Thank you for this question @wen-kexing-apologist.

What scene in BL has made you the happiest?

I'm a pretty happy girl while watching bl in general. I talk to the people on the screen, I clap and cheer and all that. If I'm supremely happy then I'll probably let out a scream and scare my cat. So I think the show recently where she suffered the most with my happy screams was definitely Tsukutabe. I hope you don't mind if I answer with a GL. The amount of times I just wanted to jump up and down with glee was unmatched, I believe. And I think nothing made me as happy as watching Kasuga talk to her father. This moment, I was just cheering like a crazy person.

It was fantastic. She is just so quiet for most of the time, but she's always listening, observing the people around her and processing. And after the talk with her soon to be divorced friend (I'm sorry, her name escapes me), where she confided in her and got the acceptance that she, maybe subconsciously, craved and words that she needed to her, she was finally able to do that. To have that conversation, to be firm and honest with him and be somewhat at peace with that part of her life. It was excellent. I LOVE HER. There are so many other moments from this show that I could honestly use to answer this question.

Now comes the anger.

So that really depends. I get angry at characters and at a show in general. I get angry at shows a lot for making stupid decisions. All my posts during Absolute Zero are a testament to that. And more recently I had a bad reaction to episode 11 of Unknown so I guess I'll talk about that.

See, I'm not really into sex scenes in general. Because more often than not they are just there. They don't add much to the overall story except to say that it happened. But when the show is good I expect them to match it. And Unknown is a really good show. It's great. So to say I was disappointed would be a massive understatement. I've spoken about this with @lurkingshan in the comments and the scene just didn't match up with the quality of the rest of the show. And this is obviously my opinion and how I see this show. There are a couple of reasons for my anger.

The first is Qian. Qian had just spent a lot of time considering Yuan's feelings and his own, the change in the relationship dynamic and he had to tackle his own fears around being vulnerable to another person and allowing himself to surrender to his desires. Because he has so little sense of self worth beyond being a carer for people around him, if Yuan didn't keep pushing, in his own way without actually forcing anything, I don't think Qian would consider crossing that line. But once he did, I think they needed a slower scene, where we could see him really embracing the moment and surrendering. Let's not forget this happened on the same night he said it wasn't sure he could make the change from brothers to lovers. That it wasn't sure what his feelings for Yuan were. So I just don't like that choice.

The second reason was the editing. And maybe this is a me thing. But even if I were to think that their first time would happen exactly that way, that scene was a mess. Sex scenes are usually not great in bl. Because the pretty takes the place of the good. So it's a lot of pretty lighting and bokeh effects. Which I have no problem with by itself. But the quick cuts drive me crazy. It's the same reason I never connected with the pretty sex scene in The Sign. If I'm gonna connect to the characters during a sex scene I should be able to linger a bit, to take in the atmosphere and physicality of the actors during it, so that it resonates emotionally. And it has to flow naturally as well for that to happen. So just cutting it randomly with different body parts, kissing and flashing facial expressions here and there just doesn't do it for me. And that's what happens in some of them including this one. And the SOUND. It drove me crazy. If you wanna use breath sounds during a scene like this, then do it well. I've seen both versions of the scene so I'm gonna focus on the reedited one cause the other one makes me doubly angry for other reasons. They change between normal speed and slow motion in the scene. And the sound doesn't really change between them so of course it didn't match, but the worst is the fact that it also didn't match anything. The sound was not from that scene. Probably because it was edited so much so the sound that they used was different, but it kept taking me out of the scene on top of what all the other reasons.

That was a longer answer than I was expecting. So I'll stop now. I hope most of that is coherent enough. I rambled a bit. Anyway thank you so much for this question.

Have a good day💜

#rose answers #unknown the series #tsukuritai onna to tabetai onna #rose rambles #I find it so much easier to write about things that make me angry than happy #it's weird

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saltygilmores · 10 months

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Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls 2/16, There's The Rub, The Part Where Dean Shows Up And Ruins Everything, Part 5

Read parts 1-4 and all other episodes in my pinned post. This one may not come across as terribly funny; I felt the urge to continue with this episode but I also felt a bit off my humor game, probably because it's 8,000 fucking degrees outside. Maybe that's what's draining my funny juices. But it does contain a bonus surprise (something I've never done before), so read on. Where we last left off, we were moments away from armageddon as Dean was heading over to the Gilmore house, with his fucking pint of ice cream in a bag, ignoring Rory's wishes to be left alone because consent has never been his forte, hell bent on destroying this evening of blissful harmony being shared between Jess, Rory, and Paris. Rory has just checked the Butthead News and Weather report and learned that a Level 5 DeanStorm is bearing down on the Gilly Girls house. She immediately shifts into panic mode as she tries to evacuate everyone from the house.

I swear he is too smart for his own good. #AdmireTheBaby #ISAIDADMIREHIM

Please don't go, my love.

God, I'm ashamed to admit how long it took me to notice this was actualy a clever ploy to get Rory alone in her room. Clever baby.

I thought Jess was saying he wants to sit down and have a heart to heart talk with Rory, then I realized he actually meant Dean and that is way funnier. I love the absurd image of those two idiots working together to achieve mature conflict resolution. Totally bonkers concept. I've said it before and I'll say it again, if Dean and Jess would just fucking make out with each other there would be peace in Stars Hollow. Rory would be spared, Lindsey would be spared, Lorelai would watch her dreams of marrying Dean Forrester wither on the vine, Shane would still be alive and not murdered by Jess after the dance marathon...

Milos "tiny little ice cream package" line delivery in the following scene is so fucking adorable that I went ahead and made it into a video clip. I should start doing this more often tbh.

I don't know how Jess is always so fearless around Dean, if I were Jess I'd be pissing my fucking pants. Dean fucking terrifies me.

Shit. Is the cold fear that this fictional character instills in me on a regular basis a testament to Jared Padalecki's acting or what? I mean, I hope it's just acting. It's a little too convincing.

He is one scary motherfucker.

Poor Paris. Dean is so horrible to Rory in the next scene, like he is just getting more and more abusive towards Rory as time goes on. So you know what, I'm not even going to write about it. Fuck Dean Forrester. Paris jumps to Rory's defense and makes up an excuse to calm Dean down from his jealous rage and it works. I wish I just could give the both of them (Paris and Rory) a great big hug. Paris is a hero and her love for Rory knows no bounds.

You are not. Fuck you!

Rory, honey. No...just no. 😭

#denise rewatches gilmore girls #rory gilmore #jess mariano #milo ventimiglia #gilmore girls season 2 #theres the rub #paris geller #anti dean forester #The MESSAGES these shows were planting in our young millennial brains #Dean yells at Rory so she apologizes to him and kisses him #and promises not to spend her time with anyone else #like #I didn’t watch these kind of shows when they first aired #so this still blows my mind there was tv like this

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ahundredtimesover · 29 days

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Wow that was some heavy emotional heartbreak in that chapter! I feel like there is an elephant sitting on my chest right now. My heart just hurts that bad for two fictional characters. It's just a testament to how much emotion you create with your stories. The best stories take you on an emotional roller coasters, and that's exactly what yours is doing.

I did not see that back story coming! It makes more sense now why she wants to leave so badly. JK really didn't have a choice but to let her go. This story is kind of like that famous line that goes something like if you love someone let them go, and if they come back to you, they were meant to be yours. That's what will happen with the two of them here. He even says it one of the lines. That he'll let her go to find her own happiness, and if she comes back to him, that means she chose to be with him. By convincing her to stay in the company, it's not her choice to be with him. She's not being given any other choice that way. She has to want him on her own. And him too. He has to want her outside of just needing her to be his assistant. They need to be more to each other than what the job allows them to be.

I really hope Mr. Ri gets his chance to be with OC's mom. If OC and JK can get their "second" chance, I hope Mr. Ri does too. He's such a great character, and I've really come to adore him. I hope that when the story ends, he also gets his happy ending.

I'm assuming there will be some kind of time jump coming up in the next chapter. I would imagine it would take maybe a few years for her to find what she's looking for and make her ready to come back to him. It certainly can't happen in a few months. I'm curious to see if they stay in touch after she leaves, or if there is just a complete break between them until she's ready to find him again. The real question is will JK have gone back to his playboy persona again. Can he stay celibate while he's waiting for her? I hope so, because that would just prove to her how much he cares for her. And will she stay celibate? So many questions I can't wait to find out the answers to!

Hiii ugh, I love it when you guys cry but I always hope you feel better right after. 🥹 I cried writing this chapter, too, especially the narration of the past, so I'm happy to know that the emotions I felt are also being felt by the readers.

I've been hinting that connection from the beginning! You might spot them after another read through hehe but true, it was just so important for OC to do this for herself. Imagine having to carry that burden... And she didn't even expect to like him! Like she said, she wasn't supposed to care that much. We at least have a JK who understands why she's doing it, but sometimes the best decisions don't make us happy (right now). And that' just how life goes. Like you said, it has to be their choice, an idea that I emphasise moving forward bc choice is what OC didn't feel she's ever really had, so if she stayed for JK, she's essentially letting him take that away from her this time. It's just not a good start.

I love the love for Mr. Ri! I absolutely enjoy creating characters like this. There's so much wisdom and pain and I just like the idea of how he's family to both OC and JK. 😌😌

Hmm interesting take about the way forward. I'd say that learning to heal and finding their happiness is important but like a lovely friend pointed out, they aren't together... They just admitted their feelings but there's nothing else beyond that. Whatever feelings they have for each other haven't fully developed yet, so they don't even know what happiness with each other looks like. Sure they have their own issues, but they’re issues that intensified bc they’ve been dealing with them in their own.

Just a thought, bc this seems to be a popular take! And my answer would be... things will be happy but they won't be perfect. There are also plans for season 2, so there’s that!

Thank you so much for reading! Been enjoying reading all of your lovely thoughts 💕💕

#mimianswers #fic: iwyts

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freakywizard · 4 months

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hiii r&m anon here again!!! i noticed you mentioned liking season 7, so i was wondering if you had any favorite or least favourite episodes, plotlines, all that jazz. season 7 debrief, if you will. would love to hear your thoughts!

ram anon gracing my inbox once again (always a pleasure)

huge rant below the cut (talking about rick and morty triggers the longwinded newspaper art critic in me sorry)

s7e2 and e4 were the best episodes in my opinion. absurd, darkly funny, overall just so perfect. i was especially excited about s7e2 since the rick/jerry dynamic has intrigued me since episode s3e5. i love that that episode basically just confirmed Rick and Jerry may be foils but are also perfect complements? they can only understand / appreciate each other when they are literally existing in each other's flesh? i try not to wax poetic about ram but this episode was tempting meeeee

and re: e4, i think this show's writing is at its best when the writers come up with a stupid concept and treat it seriously. i love that this episode saw the concept of 'what if corpse spaghetti' through to the end. classic dark comedy, absurd, wacky goodness. lovee it

one thing i do hate about this season (as well as seasons 5 and 6) is the number of callbacks to 'old' rick and morty. s7e3 and s7e8 were some of the worst episodes this season, mostly because they just reused old plotlines and developed them in the least interesting ways possible, imo. did the mid gag from s3e5 really need its own episode? it really did not. i think that this is one of the worst consequences of the show becoming less episodic and more serialized - the writers just endlessly milk the early seasons to recycle into plotlines, one-off gags, whatever. the self-referentiality and meta humor of newer seasons will always, always grind my gears severely.

also, s7e7 was almost unwatchable. it reminded me of s6e2 in all the worst ways - just dedicating an entire episode to a SINGLE movie reference, doubling down on the singular reference as the episode drags on. god that episode sucked. so boring, annoying, unfunny.

i have extremely mixed feelings on s7e5. On the one hand, I'm still annoyed that the backstory from s3e1 is even canon, and Rick is yet another entry in the long tradition of flawed male protagonists turned into a nihilistic depressed shitshow by the death of a wife. it's such a pat trope, imo.

HOWEVER, i really like how this episode developed Rick. I'll always be a fan of ruthlessness and revenge plotlines, so im biased. but i've come to appreciate Rick Prime as a villain, as a testament to how much Rick hates himself -- there's a version of himself out there that would torture himself across the universe by killing off his own loved ones, just to try to prove his own superiority? it's all very mindfucky but im super into it. Rick C137 killing Prime with his fists, all while Prime goads him? it was such a cool scene. i love when the show does selfcest

i also still have mixed feelings on the evil morty and his growing prominence in the series. it was nice when he was just a little treat, but it became clear in s4 the writers were aware of fan expectations for the character. i can't help but wonder if that's shaped the way they're writing him, especially giving him the centralized role in the story of possible-future-final-antagonist? that being said i've always liked evil morty, he's a fun character to watch on screen. although i'm extremely cautious of my enjoyment. he's already starting to feel like a fanfic rip-off of himself a little bit (that one line where he said 'well, they don't call me good morty' was so bizarre. evil morty was the fandom name for him, and the writers adopted it and made it a diegetic epithet for the character???????)

s7e10 was refreshing after a long season of Morty getting sidelined. I love how this one starts with a classic rick and morty set-up (what if *weird thing* in *random place*) but turns it into existential horror? really cool. i don't think it was the most subtle way to do morty character development, but it was interesting enough that i was invested. also, rick pinning morty's picture to the pinboard. so good

overall my reaction to this season is 'we're so back.' it was LEAGUES better than s5-6, which i think are like the ram dark ages. i don't think s7 was the best season yet (as some are suggesting) but I think that this season marks a positive turn for the quality of writing in the show.!!

here's my episode ranking in ( i mostly did this for fun)

E10

Basically, e7 and e8 were irredeemably terrible. e9, e3, and e1 were mid/fine. e6, e10, e4, e5, and e2 were all varying degrees of peak rick and morty.

other mics. thoughts:

i felt like there was a lot of long, no dialogue, sad music montages that felt like references to the famous scene from s4e8? the one from s7e4 comes to mind immediately. but there were another few sprinkled in

s7e3 rick telling a scientologist "worship how you want" ??? he would not say that. who let that slide in the writing room?

the fight scenes and gore were all really well animated!! since s3 the animation has only gotten better and i love the gore

i actually love the new VAs. they're different from roiland, obviously, but i honestly think they're both doing a better job. the performances are more naturalistic, and less grating? i thought the change would weird me out, but it's subtle, and i like it

Rick canonically bad at eating pussy in his youth

#thank you for sending this ask ram anon i love feeling my brain melt #sometimes rick and morty eletrochemically neutralizes something in my brain and it sends me into a frothy mouthed coma where i cant stop-#-thinking or talking about it. so #i also happen to be a big fan of yapping #^_^#im having thoughts of restarting my ram sideblog #lex answers

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ahmedmootaz · 6 months

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Good evening! As I was ubering to my house I had 2 questions that I think you'd be able to give good insight on.

If you had to kill a cast member in AiP (LC+LOR), who would it be and how would you execute it in your fic? I know we've had our close calls, but I do wonder how you'd handle having to get rid of a character, as I always find trouble on what to do with characters after they've had a journey.

What are some scrapped/ saved for other fics ideas you've had while creating in AiP?

Dear Anon,

Now that's quite the questions you've got there. I've given it a passing thought once or twice before, but now that you've asked, I've thought about it long and hard, so thank you for the fun thought exercise! Now, for the answers...

When it comes to a character I'd personally kill off, I'll be fully honest and admit that this probably comes back to my personal bias. I find it difficult to let go of characters which I like, so killing a member of the cast would probably need quite the strong and compelling narrative in order for me to follow-up such a task. In a way, the aftermath is the most important thing in such a scenario, not the death itself, as the interesting thing to read/analyse would be the reactions of those who have to grapple with the fact that someone they knew -and likely held dear- is no longer there. It's also a tough balance because I personally wouldn't want to always remind the readers about the passing of said character, but rather have the subtle yet permanent presence of their absence, if that makes any sense.

And with the AiP cast in particular, I'm not ashamed to say that I am quite attached to all of them, so choosing one to kill off is by no means an easy endeavour, but if I were forced to choose, I think I might cheat a little and go for X as my poor sacrificial lamb.

Now, the reasons for this choice are plentiful, seeing how X has a positive relationship with most of the cast, enjoys a long-enduring history with Ayin and Angela, and none of the Librarians think badly of him. By all means, I think that his absence can fulfil the sorts of reverberations in the plot that I think would justify his killing, where the knowledge of his absence is, in its own right, a silent presence that cannot be filled since he would be long gone.

As for how I'd go along with this idea, then I admit that I once entertained a little plot bunny about such a scenario. For me, I think that I'd either go for a sort of sacrificial death against a stronger foe, perhaps even the Distortion, during the inevitable re-confrontation with the City that Angela is planning, or I'd go with the hinted plot point of TMFoA where X has the ten year timer above him before his duration as a clone 'expires', as both situation offer a very interesting perspective to explore from the point of the view of X, someone who was mostly untouched by the vileness of the City thanks to his close presence to the Light and to the fact that his memory was constantly wiped, albeit imperfectly in my interpretation, which prevented him from succumbing to the City's cycle one way or another, even if it wasn't all that good for his health in the long run.

Regardless, what this presents us with is the first man "born" after the Light's release without any sort of lasting influence from the City beyond some ghostly sensations here and there, and thus in a sacrifice scenario, it would be a testament to humanity's lasting goodness in a way, seeing how even with so much to live for, X decided to give it all up for other people who likely wouldn't even know about him, not to mention if would be a good way to really harken how much the 'greater good' principles were drilled into him and offer an interesting monologue if such a scenario were to be written between X's desire to reject those notions that have chained him for millennia and his will to embrace them because he still wants to do the right thing despite how much the notion of 'the right thing' pained him.

And when it comes to the scenario of the 'slow withering' ending, if we were to call it that, it'd definitely be less climactic than the aforementioned potential sacrifice root, but it would also be very interesting to explore as a way of killing X off since there's always the chance of saving him one way or another during that decline, so it's almost guaranteed that he's the one who rejects being saved. It would present the dilemma of Angela's presumed immortality since it directly relates to her, seeing how a mere ten years was all it took for X to pass, and it would reverberate within her and cause a fear of losing the rest of the Librarians since she cannot age while they presumably do, and it would additionally put Tiphereth in the spotlight since she knows what it's like to have someone close to her who likely doesn't want to be saved, like how Enoch seemed so willing to 'shed his skin', as he put it. So this scenario would not only bring forth the immortality VS. letting life take its course arguments into the monologues and dialogues, but it would also relate to various characters involved, which would make the moment of the death the important part while the aftermath would be less critical to focus on in comparison because at that point, most would have come to terms with it since it was an expected and slow process for X.

And of course, by no means does this mean that I plan to kill off X anytime soon! I like him as much as everyone else, but it is very interesting to explore all of these options and analyse them if briefly, so once more, thank you for such a fun question!

2. Oh man, this is a good one. There are plenty of scenarios I've had in mind about other characters taking up the roles of the Trio of Idiocy as sorts of spin-offs that I thought about exploring at some point, such as a 'Adventures in Motherhood!' side-show with Angela, Gebura and Binah at the foray of the parenting experience instead of Ayin, X and Roland.

But when it comes to unimplemented ideas in AiP itself...I thought about adding a scene where Ayin and Roland make a little makeshift grave for Angela (and...Roland's child, since I assume that Argalia made sure that was also part of her puppet...) as a sort of apology to Roland for everything that has happened directly or indirectly thanks to him, however, I felt that such a scene didn't particularly work for AiP's atmosphere and would be better left for a more specific post-AiP extras segment or event one-shots detailing various events around the Library. I've also canned various different ideas for the "Slices of Life" Chapters, such as a more detailed cooking adventure with the kids, some more focus on X and his girls' history lessons, and I've thought about giving Gabriel some focus in a Chapter somehow, but I just didn't find anything that worked, so I tried compensating for that by involving him more than some of the others in the Sweeper Saga.

I've got to admit that I've had plenty of inspiration for other 'Fics while writing AiP, like exploring what-could-have-beens in certain spoilery situations, exploring more AUs like the 'Adventures in Motherhood' ones, etc...

Of course, if you want any detailed information or something of the sort, I would be happy to provide, but I don't want to bloat this answer too much otherwise.

Once again, thank you so very much for the interesting ask! I always like thought exercises like this, and I do hope that the responses pleased you! Until next time, stay safe, be well, and see ya'!

#lobotomy corporation #library of ruina #ayin #manager x #roland #angela #my writing #ask #I mean come on Angela and Gebura and Binah as mothers who won't love that?

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meimi-haneoka · 5 months

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I think it's because the only CLAMP's works I read are TRC and CCS but I didn't see the true name thing coming. When I read it, I thought of is as a parallelism to TRC but your recap made it sound like this is a theme for CLAMP's works.

Would you mind giving me more context about how true names play a part in CLAMP's universe? And why did a lot of people see it coming even if is not something that happened in og CCS? At least not that I remember

Yes, true names seem to be a recurring theme in CLAMP's stories, especially in the most recent works.

In general, for what I know (I haven't read all of CLAMP's stories but I plan to fill that gap now that Clear Card is over) it's very common to have characters who are called in a way for most of the story, but are revealed to have another name towards the end.

This thing of the true name, in particular, seems to have taken a more concrete shape in xxxHolic, where Yuuko explained that if you give someone your true name, they can take your soul, and if you give them your birthday, they can take control of your life.

Hence why, especially among magicians, it's usual to go by fake names (Yuuko's name itself is a fake one and they never revealed what is her true name), cause it's particularly dangerous if it ends up in the wrong hands.

I think many people saw it coming, for Kaito but Akiho too, for good reasons: in chapter 51, thanks to Momo, we have the first mention of Kaito going by a fake name. That was also reiterated in a CLAMP Space some time ago. When there's a "flag" for a true name, fans usually expect to get it in the end, and in fact the other flag came in chapter 78 when Akiho told Kaito, in tears, that she didn't have a name to call him with.

Giving someone your true name is no joke and this is a testament to what Akiho means to Kaito (if it wasn't already clear from what he did for her).

For Akiho, it was something that was in the air since looooong time, because both her name and her last name were too similar and related to that of Sakura to be "real". They really looked like an alias that was made up to result in that way.

We had a "flag" for Akiho too, when she was reharsing for the play and there was a line where Sakura asked her "what's your name" and Akiho opens her mouth as if wanting to reply something instinctively, but stops herself and we only see "......" in the bubble of her dialogue.

I always felt that was the "flag" I was waiting for, it seemed to me like she was about to accidentally tell her true name.

We don't know if Akiho has been using this alias ever since she left her clan, to be honest it would be a little weird and it wouldn't be farfetched to think that she uses a different name for every country she goes to.

Akiho comes from a clan of magicians, and even though she doesn't have powers, she still learned all the customs of the magic world.

Moreover, it is sensible that she would be sent around the world with a fake name straight from her clan, since she bore a magical artifact inside of her, that they needed to protect.

Then, as you said, there's also a component of parallelism with Tsubasa because, as I've been saying for some time, Akiho and Kaito do have parallels with Syaoran and Sakura in TRC (they experience similar things in several instances).

#reply #cardcaptor sakura #clear card arc #card captor sakura #ccsakura #ccs spoilers #anonymous #akiho shinomoto #yuna d. kaito #cristaux #cosmos

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shiawasekai · 2 days

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ooh Character Design! Stature, roots and change for Nela?

Thank you so much as always, Dujour!! 💖 These are a lot of fun. Getting a cut down there because it also got long!

roots: Is your OC's look inspired by any specific style of clothing or fashion trend? What are the roots and/or inspiration for their look?

It can be found here! Careful, it got really long.

stature: What's your OC's body type? How tall are they? Do they wear clothing to accentuate their look or do they try to mask it?

In terms of body type, it's a reverse triangle (the shoulders are wider than the hips, it's fairly noticeable in the underwear version of the ref sheet) with a proportionally very short torso. She is otherwise fairly petite, including her height: Nela is barely 154cm (midway between 5' and 5'1'' from what I've gathered for the americans reading this).

Now about the clothes... She has throughout worn flattering clothes that both enhance the good and camouflage the bad through her entire life. This isn't necessarily her choice, however.

When she started to have a modicum of choice on how she dressed as a teenager, it was still her parents (sometimes, very rarely, herself) making her clothes. They had the perfect skillset and it was a much more common occurrence overall in the past.

Her parents obviously made her clothes that would look good on her, even if money was always tight due to the circumstances of the time period and the fabrics weren't the best. Rejecting those clothes would have been the same as spitting them in the face.

And, you see, as much of a feral gremlin as she was in her teens, she loves her parents. They struggled to properly care for their extraordinary children, and they struggled the most with her, but they were always as supportive as they could. They listened when she said she wanted pants instead of dresses or skirts. She doesn't resent them, it wouldn't make sense for her to reject any of it.

Then comes the game, in which she has even more reasons to want to hide herself but she cannot because of her position. And, by the time her mental health has declined beyond the point she has the energy to care anymore, she has people around that are determined to ensure she isn't having an easy time self-destructing.

It's only when she finally starts to bounce back in post-game that she's wearing clothes that look good on her because she wants, not because the situation gives her no real alternative. Which is both a testament of people's love for her, and of how much her life has been shaped by her issues with her physical appearance.

change: Has your OC ever drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?

If we are talking about changing their appearance willingly and knowingly, two times comes to mind.

First, during her early teens. She not only stopped wearing dresses and skirts for the most part (that at least was for comfort), but cut her long hair short and intentionally disheveled and tattooed her face. Both explicitly to, hopefully, ruin her own looks because she was a troubled teenager who hated her heritage. I won't go there too in depth, partly because i may clean up a certain rant that covers this in detail.

So, essentially, she got very close to a bingo on radical appearance changes. It was liberating in a sense at the time, and thanksfully hair grows so that's not a big problem, but the tattoos are something she would have come to regret if the events of the game hadn't happened. She would have worked through her issues and come to see what she did as what it is: self-harm.

As things stand, those same tattoos are something that links her to her past and have sentimental value. Even if she also realizes it was incredibly stupid! She, however, doesn't ever really come to regret them.

The second time has a much more positive connotation, however. When she finally is comfortable enough with her new self after everything (the time slipping, the mythic metamorphosis) to look at herself at the mirror and take proper care of herself for the first time in, honestly, 7+ Actually Lived years.

She cuts her hair, a cute hairstyle this time. Still short, because she does like it like that! And this time she keeps it short, instead of letting it grow out because she can't gather the energy to do the upkeep until it becomes an actual problem.

She chooses her own clothes by herself, not that many at first. She isn't going to waste money on things she doesn't need (Daeran does that without her help). But it's still a very significant moment for her, especially coming from her background. The first time she gets to choose what to wear both gladly and freely in, let's be real because poverty sucks, her entire life.

#oc: nela damasio #These were so targeted to Nela I love it #Gosh she has so many issues with her physical aspect #which mixed with the inherent poverty of being a commoner in a decades long civil war is a recipe for clothes being a complicated topic!#and it is!!!#If there is one thing she likes of being the KC is getting to wear clothes made of decent fabric

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paleparearchive · 18 days

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Proud of My Hometown

El Greco's 1st initial 3★ story (2/2) ( 1 - 2 )

Location: kitchen (evening) ; dormitory hallway (morning) | Characters: El Greco, Rembrandt, Munch, Van Dyck

El Greco: What do you want to know about my hometown?

Rembrandt: Well, first of aaaall, what kind of place is this island surrounded by fog? What is its name?

El Greco: The truth dwells only in my heart.

Munch: He can't go into detail.

Van Dyck: Why? Why don't you at least say its name?

El Greco: Let's just say it is a place where proud people who respect the island's customs live.

Van Dyck: What's that... I mean, what are the island's customs?

El Greco: On their birthday, children receive gifts from everyone on the island.

Munch: Wooow, that's a very nice custom! Sounds fun!

Rembrandt: El Greco-kun, what else is there?

El Greco: We always make sure to get a haircut on Tuesday.

Van Dyck: Huh? What if you want to get your hair done on another day of the week?

El Greco: I don't. I don't want to get a haircut except on Tuesdays.

Van Dyck: I-Is that so…

Rembrandt: It's a biiig world, isn't it? It's fun to hear about all these customs that are new to me. I'll have to try not to forget them.

Van Dyck: … Is it something to take notes of? To absolutely get a haircut on Tuesdays…?

Rembrandt: Yeah, it's not often you get to hear stories like this. I'll have to remember it.

Munch: I want to go to Niko-chan's place someday too~ My friends also want to meet the islanders!

Van Dyck: But he said earlier that the location was a secret… But it sure makes me curious. Do all the people on the island dress like you?

El Greco: Yes. It is one of the customs to pay attention to the attire.

Rembrandt: Everyone must be sooo fashionable~

Van Dyck: I might like to visit such a place. It's fun to see fashionable people.

El Greco: I'm very happy to hear your compliments about my hometown. The spirits of my homeland would be happy to be honored in a faraway land. Besides, your sleeves are always spotless too.

Van Dyck: Huh?

Munch: He said Vanny always looks beautiful!

Van Dyck: ! W-Well, of course! I always try to be beautiful.

Fufu. I thought you were brusque, but you're a pretty talkative guy, aren't you? Hey, next time you go shopping in town, take me with you. It'll be fun to pick out clothes with you.

El Greco: Of course.

Rembrandt: And a new friendship has bloomeed~ That's a veeery nice thing!~

Munch: Good for you, Niko-chan! You've made another friend!

El Greco: It feels like someone made me a meal when I was sick.

Van Dyck: … Are you saying you're happy?

Munch: Yes yes, now you understand him too, Vanny!

Van Dyck: Well, now that's something.

El Greco: Then, is it okay if we go shopping this Saturday?

Van Dyck: Fine for me. This is also one of your customs, right?

El Greco: No, I had an open schedule, so…

Munch: Vanny, you're a know-it-all! That's what my friends say!

Van Dyck: S-Shut up! Saturday, right? My schedule is empty!

El Greco: I see. I'm looking forward to it.

—

Rembrandt: What's for lunch todaaay?~

Van Dyck: It's not beautiful when your stomach growls. We have to eat soon.

Munch: Heeey, Rembraa, Vanny!

Van Dyck: Munch? Ah, El Greco as well. I mean, what's with the basket? Are you taking it to the kitchen?

El Greco: I stocked up on shellfish from my hometown. It's a testament to the new friendship that was forged yesterday. I'll serve them to you.

Munch: He says it's a taste of his hometown!

Rembrandt: Thank you! I wonder, what kind of shells does your hometown have, El Greco-kuuun?~

Van Dyck: Indeed, I can't imagine that at all.

Munch: You'll understand when you see them! Here!

Van Dyck: !? S… Snails!?

Rembrandt: Woooow~ I've never eaten them before~ There are soooo many!

Munch: They look deliciouuus!~ I wonder how they taste!

Van Dyck: NO WAAAAY! That's disgusting! I like you and your hometown's fashion, but not that one!

El Greco: You will love them. Don't hesitate to try them.

Van Dyck: A-ABSOLUTELY NOOOOT!!

#palette parade #palette parade tl #palepare #palepare tl #card tl #card translation #translation #el greco #3★

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feverinfeveroutfic · 5 months

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hanukkahbingo 2023

Fic or Art/Graphic Title: alone in the dark, chapter six : “Some Kind of Ghost” Author/Artist Name: josiebelladonna Fandom: Testament (Band) Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Alex Skolnick (and how) Bingo Squares Being Filled: family, miracle, smashing fascists 🔥 Rating: Mature Warning(s): Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Link to Work: x @aimmyarrowshigh

I was still shook up from the incident with Christine's father, such that my hands trembled as I brought the bites of latke and applesauce up to my mouth. Christine herself meanwhile never left my side as she indulged in her plate, and I could tell that she was enjoying it because it was humble and delicious while we were living in a cold house with no electricity and nothing better to do other than read books and play cards. She huddled up close to me but she never actually touched the side of my body, however. Though it was cold in the house, I started to feel warm again from the taste of those potatoes with the sliced and diced onions and the minced garlic. Though I had been jarred from my place, I still needed to eat, and I still needed to get back home to my parents, too. I blew on the next bite of latke before I slipped it into my mouth.

“How are they?” Wendy asked me.

“Delicious,” I said with my mouth full. “They taste almost as good as my grandmother's latkes.” I swallowed and took another sip of my coffee.

“Nothing beats Grandma's cooking,” she replied with a little smile on her face.

“Not at all! When I was a kid, my aunt and my grandma would also make my brother and me babka for Hanukkah, which he and I always loved. It was from there that I realized that nothing beats the real thing. Nothing beats the thing that came straight out of the home.”

“I think I've actually seen that at a bakery before,” she said as she took her seat next to Christine at the far end of the couch. “It's like a cross between a Swiss roll and a bread, isn't it?”

“Sort of,” I said. “It's definitely kosher in comparison to a Swiss roll, I would think, but it's more like... phyllo dough with chocolate drops, some cinnamon, and some melted chocolate rolled up and then coiled into a tin. We always like a little chocolate babka in our life.”

“We should make that at some point, Chris,” Wendy suggested.

“You've got chocolate babka, there's also cinnamon and apple,” I added. “Chocolate is the best, but I also love me some apple.” Right as I said that, I scooped up a bit of applesauce, which I could tell was sweeter than I was used to. But I wasn't going to complain.

“By the way, Wendy, is it all that flooded out there?” the grandfather asked her.

“Yeah, I've been meaning to ask you that, too,” I chimed in as I took another bite of applesauce.

“Actually, no!” Wendy assured us. “Although, I suppose it is elsewhere, but there's just some big puddles outside of the sidewalk. You know, you have to be careful walking along the storm drain because there are literal rivers out there. But it's not like immense flooding, though.”

“Plus, it's going downhill,” I added as I took another bite of latke.

“It's all going downhill, exactly,” Wendy declared. Christine then turned her attention over to me with a slightly annoyed look on her face.

“I hope this shit's not boring you,” she whispered to me.

“Hey, I would much rather chat about this than what happened with your dad back there,” I assured her.

“Oh, yeah, anything beats that, to be honest,” she said with a nod. “But you know, boring grown-up stuff.”

“You know, you're going to be a boring grown-up yoursself soon,” I pointed out to her as I took my last bite of latke.

“I kind of don't want to be,” she confessed. “You know, just because you reach eighteen years old doesn't mean you have to actually grow up and become boring.”

“You know, it's the funniest thing,” I told her as I set my empty plate down on the coffee table before me and I picked up my coffee in lieu of it; “I feel the exact same way. Who says you have to give up what you are once you've reached a certain age?”

And she showed me a smile at that.

It was right then I noticed that the rain had slowed down on the roof overhead.

“Is the rain stopping?” her grandfather then asked from the kitchen table.

“I think it is, Dad,” Wendy replied. I sipped on the coffee and the vagabond in me came alive right then. All the times that Testament travelled somewhere in the world or even there in the States, and the sheer sight of the hotel room all around me only made me want to go out and explore the town. Wendy then offered to take mine and Christine's empty plates, much to my pleasure.

“Thank you, Mom,” she said.

“Yeah, thank you, Wendy!” I added, and once again, I swore she flashed me a wink. I finished the rest of my coffee and turned my attention to Christine.

“Wanna take a walk?” I offered her.

“I'd love to,” she replied. “I have to get dressed, but I'd like to do that, though.”

“Go out and get some fresh air,” I added. “I have to find my shirt, anyways.” I couldn't help but chuckle at that, either.

Once her mom and grandparents were paying more attention to each other, she and I returned to our rooms for a quick change, whereby I found my shirt tucked under my pillow for some reason. But then I realized why and I couldn't resist chuckling again as well as wrinkling my nose and sticking out my tongue.

Once I had my shirt back on, I returned to the hallway and Christine dressed in faded denim jeans and a little black windbreaker.

“Shall we?” I asked her. “We shall,” she replied.

Once we told the three of them what was happening, we left the house and stepped outside to the gray morning. Though the place hadn't flooded like Wendy had said, small puddles still formed all across the yard, and the storm drain was one deluge away from overflowing onto the sidewalk as well. Nevertheless, we still walked up the street together, and I had a feeling that she was going to show me the stump.

“We go in the other direction and we'll be swept away by the flood waters,” she pointed out to me, to which I chuckled.

We reached the next corner up before we hung a right. The next corner up and we hung a left.

It was all so we could keep going uphill and away from whatever raging waters that came our way.

“I hope I'm not being too intrusive about it,” I confessed to her as the neighborhood around us grew much more overgrown with trees and bushes, all of which were dark and sparse for the onset of winter in the coming weeks. “You know my whole thing of 'I really don't want to impose on anyone'.”

“You're not being intrusive,” she assured me with a shake of her head. “Especially since he came after you.”

She fetched up a sigh and stared straight ahead: I followed her gaze to the veil of clouds over the mountains. We weren't far from the base of them as well as the sparse snow banks that capped them. At least it didn't snow that much.

“I love my dad but he's got his problems, though,” she pointed out. “He and my mom have separated, and he's still kind of raw about it. Then again, he should talk about it to me. He likes to drink, and my mom doesn't really like that he does that, especially in front of me. I remember one time he downed a whole bottle of gin over the course of a single day, and my mom was like 'no way' and she got me out of there. He's not a very good drunk, either.”

“I've known a few people like that,” I told her. “Where the members of my old band and I would have a drink or two and then we'd giggle and fool around and shit, there was always someone on the crew who would have a few too many and start yelling at us for no reason.”

“Exactly like that!” she exclaimed. “And it's always really scary to be around and watch right before your eyes, too, because you don't know if they're going to punch you or do something awful to themselves. So, my mom got me away from him for a bit but I wanted to be with him again because—like I said, I love my dad and I want to see him get better. So they split and I stayed with him for a whole summer before he promised me to stop drinking. When he did, I went to go stay with my mom, and that was when my own relationship fell apart and then I dyed my hair after that as a change of sorts. When he was at the door earlier, I could smell a little booze on his breath. I've grown up around alcohol enough to where I can smell even just a few drops of it from clear across the room. It also helped that the wind carried it into the house, too.”

“Oh, wow, I didn't even notice,” I confessed as I ran my hand down from my chest down to my stomach. “All I could smell was the latkes and the coffee your mom got for us.”

But she bowed her head a bit and looked down to the drenched pavement and the small rivulets in the storm drain below our feet.

“The first man I ever loved,” she said in a soft voice, and I tilted my head to the side at the sight of her there next to me.

“First man you ever loved and had a relationship with, too,” I added.

“All of that before my ex showed up, and before you showed up, too,” she continued it.

“He promised you that he would stop drinking—actually promised you—”

“Right to my face, too,” she added, and she lowered her voice to a near whisper.

“—and yet there he was, right there at your grandparents' house, just reeking of it,” I followed along, and she nodded her head at that with a crestfallen look on her face.

“Mmm, I wouldn't say he was reeking of it,” she corrected me with a slight shrug of her shoulders, “but I could tell you that he had had some to drink before he showed up.”

“Which means he also took off in his car after that...” My voice trailed off, and I shuddered at the thought of someone climbing behind the wheel after they had had just a little too much to drink, especially with that person being her own father.

She and I fell into momentary silence with our gazes fixed on the storm drain beneath us; all the while, I noticed a few circles along the surface of the water, and I could tell that the sprinkles were going to give way to even more rain after that. Though things were not very flooded at the moment, I knew that it was definitely a possibility, and I could potentially miss out on the first couple of nights of Hanukkah with my parents as well.

I then turned my head to the right, to the stretch of sidewalk that snaked up the street beside us.

“So, tell me,” I began again to her. “Where's this stump at? The stump of the tree that fell on you?”

Her expression never changed as she strode around behind me, and I followed her right at her back. The storm drain seemed to swell as we moved further along, and then we reached the next corner and crosswalk up before us. Across the street stood an old house that looked to be empty, and behind that was an empty lot entrenched in mud and large puddles that could probably flood a bit should the rain pick back up again. With a quick glimpse in either direction, Christine and I crossed the street, albeit with a hop over the rivulets in the storm drains.

She brought me to the corner across from us, and I looked on at the empty house. Something about it gave me a weird feeling in my stomach, as if something happened there before and I should be worried. But I wasn't worried, and I shook it off once we reached the empty lot, which consisted of nothing more than slabs of blacktop and patches of dark mud.

“It's right here,” she declared, and she brought me to the dead center of it all, barring we avoided the mud all around us and treated the blacktop as stepping stones instead. Indeed, there stood a large round stump right in the middle of the muck and the mud, one that was wide enough for the two of us and maybe Wendy, too, to have a seat on. The cuts on the stump had eroded with the passing of time, and thus, I knew she was telling the truth. I looked on at her and the thoughtful look in her eyes: the fine mist that fell over us left tiny droplets on the crown of her head accentuated the red of her hair. The gray sunlight around us washed out the color to her face, and her skin resembled porcelain as a result.

I gazed up to the gray sky overhead as I tried to picture that big tree that fell over on top of her. Those wandering branches as they cascaded over her, and the earth took her in its arms. To think that she had taken the path that she had taken, and she was still standing there on the sidewalk next to me. She continued to stand, with her hands in her pockets and the scars that she bore all to tell the world about it. If only there was a way in which she could overcome it and use it to her advantage, and I could tell she was on her way given how she liked to joke around with me and be all cozied up next to me.

I was more stunned by the fact that she had survived it all, and more so when I shivered from the wind picking up courtesy of the mountain slopes off to our right. The rain was coming, and yet the silence was all that we could do right then.

“An absolute miracle that you're here with us right now,” I whispered to her over the winds behind us.

“It really is,” she whispered back to me, and she extended one hand out towards me as if to hold mine. I swallowed as I extended mine to her own: her fingers gripped onto the side of my palm, and I let my own fingers curl around her hand. A chill ran up my spine right then, and something told me that it wasn't the wind.

“When my ex and I were together, I often dreamed of this,” she confessed.

“You never got to hold hands with him?” I asked her, taken aback, and she shook her head at that.

“Not even one time,” she said. “I would often dream of kissing him and holding him, just like how I did with you back at the house. But I never could do it. I could never find the courage to do that.”

“Why is that?” I asked her.

“Like I said, I just never felt good enough. I never felt like I was worthy of kissing him or holding him. I never felt like I could really tell him as to how I felt about him.” She nibbled on her bottom lip right then. “And that's why he's my ex.”

“So I should consider myself lucky,” I muttered. The rain picked up as the words left my lips, and Christine tugged the hood over her head with her free hand.

“We should probably get home,” I advised her.

“Yeah, I think we should, too,” she said. “I'm starting to get cold.” She squeezed my hand before she let go of me, and then she huddled up close to me. The two of us began to walk along the sidewalk, away from the empty lot and the swelling puddles there, and I hoped that the rain and wind wouldn't pick up at any point on the way back to the house. We reached the house on the corner, whereby I caught a glimpse of the dark roof and the trees that protected it from the elements. I spotted the witching window at the back and a shiver ran down my spine. We passed the two windows that looked out to the street, both of them as black as night, and then the corner of the house and the edge of the yard. All the while, I glanced back to it.

There was just something about the house that gave me such a weird, indescribable feeling, and it was one of those things that was going to drive me absolutely batty for the rest of the day if I did nothing about it. We reached the corner when I finally stopped, and I took a good long look at it. Christine stopped right next to me and closed her coat lest a gust of wind come up before us.

“I should probably tell you that my ex and his family used to live in this house here,” she told me.

“They used to live here?” I asked her, slightly stunned, and she nodded her head at me.

“Not for very long, like not even a year but—yeah, they actually used to live out here.”

I turned my head for another look at the house again, and I tried to picture what exactly happened there, especially since it was giving me such a weird feeling whenever I looked at it. Maybe it was the garage door and the way that it struck me as a little odd in comparison to the rest of the house: it was a yellow house with black trimming but the garage door appeared to be a slightly different shade of yellow, almost white.

Something off about it all.

“Did he or his parents tell you why they moved away from here?” I asked her, and she shook her head.

“I mean, I have a couple of theories—they hailed from New York and so, you know, maybe they just didn't like it out here. It's too much of a high desert where New York is more tempered.”

I had my doubts about that, however. I looked on at the house, at the awnings right outside of the two front windows that looked out to either side of the street given it stood on a corner, at the second floor, at the brick chimney which gave me an even weirder feeling than that of the garage door. Maybe it was just the color of the door looking off by comparison, but something about that left me wanting more out of that. Add to this, I struggled to picture him and his family living there.

I walked on over to the mouth of the driveway, which was slightly sloped from the garage door. Maybe it was an optical illusion. Maybe I really did have nothing to worry about and I was just going to drive myself far beyond the point of meshuggah. But something about it was going to drive me absolutely meshuggah regardless of what happened. I turned my attention to Christine, who strode on up to me with her hands tucked in her pockets and with a bewildered look on her face.

“Nobody lives here anymore, right?” I asked her once she came within earshot.

“As far as I know, no,” she replied. Cautiously, I strode up the driveway to the garage door. The panels were crisp and sharp, but the paint drooped a bit in a few places. I took a closer look to the one closest to my face.

Something buried underneath. I let my eyes wander down towards the base of the garage door itself to see it in full. Though it had been covered up, whoever did it did not do that well of a job, at least not for me, anyway.

The black outlines. The shape it made plus the angles.

The mere sight that haunted my own nightmares as well as that of my relatives.

“Just as I thought,” I muttered.

“What?” she asked me, and the chills ran up my spine. I took her by the hand and led her away from there.

“Alex, what is it?” she asked again, but I never replied. All I knew was I had to get away from there, and I had to get away from that particular part of the neighborhood as well. Our shoes padded on the pavement and that was the only noise I could hear. With a quick leap over the storm drains, we crossed the street from the house to the opposite corner; Christine stayed behind me as I led her away from there. At one point, I could feel her looking back, and I wished that I could completely tell her about what I was feeling. The thing is I had a hard enough time reading emotions on someone's face, let alone fessing up my own to someone like her.

We slowed down to a quick walked right before we reached the line of trees again. At least we were safe from the feeling that house gave unto me. Nevertheless, I still shivered and closed my coat to keep in the warmth. I was missing the warmth of those latkes her grandparents made for us.

I leaned back against the trunk of the tree closest to the sidewalk, and she gathered next to me as if we were hiding from something.

“God...” I breathed out, and I gazed up to the canopy of the trees over our heads. Though the leaves had gone for the autumn, the branches still protected us somewhat from the impending rain beyond us. I was not a man of prayer by any means but I could only pray that the rain spared us there in the trees for the time being.

“Makes me sick to think about,” I confessed to her with a shake of my head. “Regardless of whether or not he's your ex. It still makes my skin crawl just thinking about it.”

“What?” she demanded, and I licked my lips and ran my fingers through my hair.

“I really don't know if I can tell you,” I told her, “like I don't really know as to how to put it.”

“Well... start from the top,” she began. “That's what my parents' therapist says, just start from the beginning.”

“But... you said your ex was Jewish.”

“Yeah.”

“They lived here... not even a year, you said,” I continued.

“If I remember correctly, they moved here in July and they were gone once school was let out in June, so yeah, not even a year. I remember talking to him about it, too.”

I nibbled on my bottom lip yet again, that time because the mere suggestion only deepened the pit in my stomach.

“You know how you said you'd stand for me if something happened to me all because of my own heritage?” I recalled to her.

“Yeah,” she said, and she squinted her eyes at me as if she knew where I was going with this.

“It's so weird to me, because... you don't think of Nevada as sinking that low,” I admitted. “I mean—shit. 'Battle born.' Became a state in the face of the Civil War. You don't think of... something that hates me and your ex and probably wants the two of us dead, and maybe you, too, because you're associated with both him as well as me now. You don't think of—you know, that—as being here.”

Her mouth then dropped agape and her eyes widened. She brought a hand to her mouth, and all I could do was nod at her.

“Are you sure?” she asked me in a hushed voice.

“That fucking thing could be buried under six feet of black tar and I would still recognize it,” I told her in a single breath. “I knew what I saw, and I know for a fact that they're in that neighborhood.”

I peered out to the street. All the houses were shuttered and calm for the incoming rainstorm, but I still had my feelings no matter how they looked to me.

“Yeah, we should probably—” But before I could finish, she once again took me by the hand and yanked me away from there. Her hood fell right off her head as we ran as fast as could back to her grandparents' house with the wind and the rain at our backs; both picked up the pace as we reached the edge of the property and the welling up of the puddles in the front yard, and I was glad that we ran home when we did and as fast as we did, as well. The only exception was I never looked back to that house.

I didn't have to look back because I knew for a fact I was the menorah in the broken window.

#hanukkah 2023 #hanukkahbingo #hanukkah #fanfic #alone in the dark #as the seasons grey #as the seasons grey fanfic #fanfiction #alex skolnick #testament fanfic #testament #testament band #oc tag #also on ao3 #writing #text #hanukkah bingo #hanukkah sameach #hanukkah fic

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pagepainter · 2 months

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Life can be wonderful. But sometimes, it can also get really tough. Write a letter to offer them comfort, wisdom, and/or strength for the journey. Remind them of some key insights into happiness and suffering that you wish to remember after the course. (Feel free to treat this letter as an actual time capsule.)

(okay, so this is my Happiness and Suffering module (aka Philosophy) for one of my modules I'm taking for this semester, and this is my mid-terms question I've chosen, and I feel like I want to put my thoughts here because it also serves as a good reminder for me to look back at this from time to time. This will be the model version that I hope I can produce for tomorrow's exam, although I can't memorize quotes this long, but I hope I can roughly describe it accurately. Takes a breath okay. I don't want to trauma dump but I'm also 'whatever' at this point, i'm tired lol) ___

"Happiness is all about the little things in life." Those were the words I said when our professor asked each one of us at the beginning of the first lesson. Yet, are the little things in life really sufficient to get you through life? Sometimes, they can be hard to appreciate when there are larger scale events that seem to undermine the efforts of appreciating the little things we have in life, because they seem so insignificant. From Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning, he reminds us that there's always a solution to every problem. Even when things seem pointless and meaningless at one point in life, suicide is never the answer. Things will eventually take a good turn, and who's to say that it will not happen? It will happen, one way or another; it's only a matter of time. Because of this, please remember to remain strong, so you can live to see that day happen, and because of this, even when you've already given up on hope, you're accountable for the life in your hands, so survive. You have to. It will be okay. You will be okay. One day, when you look back, you'll see that all these trials and tribulations have made you stronger. You'll emerge to become the person you want to be, to achieve the ideal version of yourself. These hardships in life all happened for a reason — these experiences will make you realize who you really want to be.

I know that there will be times where pessimistic thoughts gnaw their way into your head and they can eat you from the inside out, but remember the analogy of the stilling of muddy water; life is 10% what happens to you, and 90% of how you react to it. When you learn to still your mind and understand that the circumstances do not define who you are, they will not have the ability to lead you to a downward spiral. Recognize your emotions, but don't invest in them. Like what Matthieu Ricard advises from his book The Dalai Lama — Happiness from Within, you're allowed to feel your emotions, but if you allow yourself to be fed on by those negative emotions, you'd become a slave to them. Moreover, the search for happiness not about looking at life through rose-tinted glasses or intentionally ignore the pain and imperfections of the world, but rather, to train your thoughts to be appreciative of the situations you're experiencing in life, no matter how difficult that sounds. Through this, with the testament of time, you'd be surprised at how you perceive life's difficulties. But with that said, I'm not telling you to gaslight and coerce yourself to not embrace the emotions you had at the time. It's okay to be angry, sad, and bitter, after all, we all humans, and it's okay not to be okay sometimes. It's both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply, but be careful not to allow yourself to drown in these negative afflictions. Like what Lao Tzu said, "your thoughts become your words, and your words become your actions, and your actions become your habits, and your habits become your character, and your character becomes your destiny." So, learn to train your thoughts to appreciate yourself for how far you've come, and the hardship right now is not the end of the world. Things will become better.

I know the amount of worries you have will never go away, and neither will they reduce in quantity. As you grow older, new sets of worries begin to develop, and you'll be having a different perspective of your definition of happiness. By then, remember what Erich Fromm's To Have or To Be has taught you — that the state of being is far more important than the state of having, because the tangible things you own, will eventually lose their value. It's the relationships you form, the experiences you encounter, and the personal growth you seek to develop on yourself will lead you to achieve a level of self-actualization and self-transcendence. Don't ever define your worth through the objectification of the things you own. You will never feel like you have enough, and this will become a neurotic and toxic cycle of pursuing happiness, attaching the concept of happiness to physical assets, instead of finding happiness from within and appreciating what you have. Trust me, human's innate nature of the insatiable desire for more is like a parasite that will devour your mind and prevent you from being in your present state of mind and to be grateful for what you have. Like what Epicurus, said, "nothing is enough for the man to whom enough is too little". So, take things slowly, day by day, be thankful for the small things, because they're the ones that culminate overtime and shape your outlook of life.

#mythoughtsexactly #midterms #idk wtf im doing

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dil-ibaadat · 1 year

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Hellooo! This is the anon who sent you the West Wing youtube clip.

I was shy and hence posted anonymously but you’re so sweet that I couldn’t help revealing myself! 🙈

Full disclaimer that I’ve never watched the West Wing but have always kinda wanted to because I love that sort of old timey witty American drama, even if it’s politics I don’t fully understand and it is a full testament to your talent and writing prowess that I now really feel like watching the show to get all the references from your fic 🙈Alas, it’ll have to wait since I have an exam but I shall get to it right after hopefully!

I’ve read this first chapter about 5 times ( I am not joking), I can’t even explain why I love it so much! You’ve combined two series’ with such finesse! There’s so much depth and character even within this fanfictiony world and I can’t even begin to grasp how sexy it is? The whole premise and how it’s so befitting for Kanthony and the rest of the Bridgerton clan too!

I love how you’ve not made it just a love story but like an actual world with seemingly real people trying to actually make a difference - that whole bit with Tom saying ‘this is going to be the greatest thing they’ll do’ is just so epic.

I can’t wait to see how the election unfolds now that Kate is almost winning! I wish this was an actual show, that’s how amazingly you’ve pulled me in 😬

I now get your references for the characters and it’s funny how initially before reading, I just assumed Anthony and Kate would be modelled on Josh and Donna (since they were the only two characters I sort of knew from the West Wing) but your interpretation of them contesting for President is way cooler and makes for so much more angst and drama.

Sorry for such a long ask, I’m genuinely so happy and eager to read your wonderful fic and I really hope you write many many more stories because your talent is just astonishing. 😍 Dowry is one of my favourites in the fandom. Shoutout to @folklauerate too as I realise this is both of your time and effort! (My favourite fic of hers is Hold Onto You and the Heist Society one!)

I’d like to end with getting the Chris Traeger reference too! I now know who Sam Seaborn is. 🙈

oh, wow. this is one of the loveliest messages i have ever received. <3 thank you so much for taking the time to send it!!!!! i'm so pleased you like the writing and the general vibe :)))

as for watching the west wing, we're doing our best to make sure it's not necessary to have watched the show in order to get the fic. if you have, you probably recognize some scenes (directly ripped off from scenes and dialogue in the show), and some character sketches, but beyond a few elements of plot, background, and surface-level characterization, this fic universe will feel a bit different from the show. we're borrowing the universe, the idealism, and the feel-good, hard-but-worth-it political reality constructed in the show. it's a wild, escapist political AU, all in good fun. we hope you'll like it! :)

i find it interesting you say you thought the dynamic between kanthony would be a josh/donna type deal, because i did consider that when i began writing it. it was sort of my go-to, but then i realized i've seen the boss/secretary dynamic many times in shows and it's gotten a bit stale for me. i've also noticed that oftentimes, the female love interest is put in the assistant-position, which to me feels a bit antiquated. at the same time, it's hard for me to imagine anthony in donna's position because the power dynamic between anthony and kate was very different in canon, so i ended up nixing that thought because i wanted them to start off as equals.

that said, there are other bridgerton ships that could fit the dynamic really well! josh and donna are interesting because they're introduced as this enmeshed, basically-married duo that are on a slowburn, friends-to-lovers arc. i think polin could work really well with that storyline, with maybe penelope as josh to shake things up (i think colin as her assistant who switched a lot of lanes in college and career-wise could be really, really interesting, and maybe one of pen's sisters could be dead, to give that additional edge of angst to the already complicated featherington dynamics aaaaaand i better stop before i end up writing this too!).

moreover, i originally began writing this fic because i was interested in exploring a kate-tom friendship a la jed and leo. and in order to do that, i had to make kate president. and then the idea grew legs, because i actually adore the idea of kate as a thirty-something, obama-type figure who's pulled in the opposite directions of radical liberal idealism and centrist pragmatism and anthony as a jaded, conflicted, entrenched dynastic political figure who's caught in this quagmire of expectations. in a way, anthony's still conflicted about his relationship with kate in this AU because it directly conflicts with his personal ambitions and his desire to make his dad proud, so that's canon-accurate but also repackaged in a fun, fresh way.

i don't know. i think it's neat. it's a neat AU. and @folklauerate has so many great ideas and juicy bits of characterization and plot and pitch-perfect writing -- it's gonna be so good, i'm gonna scrreeeeaaaammmm.

finally, thank you so much for being here in my inbox and sending this ask. i've been having days on and off for the past few months where i seriously question my writing and purpose and it's comments and messages like this that stop me from giving it all up and moving to kazakhstan and taking up, i don't know, goat-farming (or is it kyrgyzstan ;D, you tell me). i really appreciate it.

#ask on tumblr #promiseoftruth #bridgerton #my fic #OUR FIC

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