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#i've spent seven to eight hours on this thing
vivalas-vega · 18 hours
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new perspectives // part eleven // jake 'hangman seresin x reader
boy oh boy -- I've been working on this part since I posted the last one (and mind you... this version of it I wrote and completed within the last three hours - there's about 10,000 additional words with different versions of this) - I just could not figure out how to continue it and I don't know if I'm happy with it fully but here it is !! this one is more focused on Rooster and Jupiter and their friendship because I haven't gone as in depth with it as I would have liked in past chapters. as always - please let me know what you think !!
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new perspectives // part eleven // jake 'hangman' seresin x reader
prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten
add yourself to my taglist
word count: 4.1k
warnings: mentions of war (but nothing too detailed), mentions of gunshot wounds (again, nothing too detailed), slight suggestiveness at the end
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The stars above Rooster, twinkling and shining, served as some kind of mockery as he sat on the beach and looked for constellations, though he wasn’t finding any because he wasn’t trying very hard. He wished he could be in his jet right now, wished he could feel the controls in his hands and see the earth below him because maybe then this wouldn’t be so scary, maybe he wouldn’t feel so helpless. 
There was just enough alcohol coursing through his veins for the weight of his emotions to get on top of him, but not enough to forget what he’d heard entirely. He knew what his job was right now. Your last request of him, bestowed not too far from where he was sitting with that sweet smile of yours and eyes full of stars, had been replaying on a loop for the past few hours. Take care of them for me, take care of him. You knew they were equipped to handle this, their lives weren’t all that different from the one you were currently living but there was one key difference that was not lost on anybody… while they were too high above the chaos to truly see, you were down in the middle of it all. While they may have been equipped to handle a friend's deployment, they weren’t all that prepared to think of you as the boots on the ground.
Take care of them for me, take care of him. You knew eventually things would catch up, that the reality of your absence would set in and that when it did they’d need you… and the next best thing was Rooster. You were always thinking eight steps ahead, it’s what made you a good friend and a good doctor, but right about now Rooster found it infuriating. You saw those eight steps ahead, you saw this getting on top of everyone at one point or another, and you made it Rooster’s problem. You knew Jake wouldn’t be able to offer much through his own worry and you wouldn’t have expected him to, but you expected it of Rooster.  
He found himself wishing you’d never connected, never bonded. He wished he hadn’t played Drops of Jupiter that very first night, hadn’t harmonized with you and pulled you out of your shell simply because he couldn’t help himself. He wished he hadn’t offered to tour houses on your behalf, hadn’t spent countless hours working alongside you to bring your vision to life. He wished you’d never looked his way because you saw him in a way that was terrifying, you understood him and you pushed him. You pushed him further in his rekindling with Maverick, and you pushed him right into Eliza’s arms because you knew what he needed and what he wanted.
He wished he’d never realized his infatuation with you wasn’t romantic, because maybe if he’d chalked it up to being an asshole with secret feelings for someone who belonged to the man who saved his life he wouldn’t be sitting here right now with worry eating a hole through his stomach. Maybe he would have distanced himself from you, kept things cordial and casual to protect his own heart, but he did realize. He did see that it wasn’t romantic and it never was, he was simply misreading his own emotions because he’d never had a friend like you before. He’d never admit it in the light of day because he found such terms ridiculous but you were his platonic soulmate, through and through. And right about now he wished he’d never figured that out.
He wished none of it had ever happened, because here he was sitting on the beach feeling so utterly helpless because you’d bestowed an impossible task on him and he couldn’t even be mad at you because he’d heard it. One minute he was telling you he loved you, on his way back into the bar to give you space with the man you really needed, the next you were under fire… and you seemed calm. In the face of it all, your tone hadn’t changed, your disposition hadn’t changed. You’d told Jake you loved him without an ounce of fear or apprehension in your tone and hung up, because this was a common occurrence for you now. In the face of it all, you were fine, and here he was sitting on the beach struggling to keep it together.
Except, he didn't wish any of those things at all because you were you, and he couldn't imagine not having you in his life. And so he was trying, because that’s what you’d asked of him. If you could do the impossible, if you could save lives with those two little hands of yours under gunfire or worse, he  could keep it together. He could do what you asked of him. He’d remain calm and collected, his usual goofy self to keep the anxiety at bay the best he could, because that’s what you needed. You’d asked for them, but really you’d asked for yourself. You needed to know Rooster was looking out for them so you didn’t have to worry, because you had enough to worry about. 
And that’s exactly what he did… he went back into the bar and got Jake a fresh drink, set him up in front of the dartboard with Coyote. He’d filled everyone in on what happened. She’ll be fine, this is her life now and she’s Jupiter. She’ll be fine and so will we because she doesn’t want us spinning out, she wants us here having fun with each other so that’s what we’re going to do.
And then he’d lingered, made sure everyone made it home safely and wandered out onto the beach to look at the stars and feel everything he knew you didn’t want him to. “There’s only so much you can ask of me, JJ,” he whispered to himself as he took in the mass of twinkling lights above him because he was choosing to believe you were under this sky too, and though you couldn’t hear him, maybe you could feel it. You could feel that he was keeping up his end of the promise, and that you needed to keep up yours. 
“I know I haven’t talked to you in a while dad, but… well, if you’ve been paying attention I don’t need to fill you in,” he started, openly talking into the night air because this was what he did. When it all got to be too much, when things started to get on top of him he looked to the sky and talked to Goose. “I don’t know if you’ve got any connections up there, I hope you didn’t use them all up sending Hangman after me and Mav but… she needs to come home. Please don’t let what happened to mom happen to Jake,” he said, choking on his words before clearing his throat. “Please don’t let what happened to Maverick happen to me. She’s my best friend, and I… I can’t lose her. Jake can’t lose her. None of us can.”
He was pleading because he knew he was right, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to uphold his promise to you if you didn’t come home. He wouldn’t be able to take care of Jake, or Coyote, or Phoenix… he wouldn’t be able to take care of himself. You swooped in as this mysterious old friend of Hangman’s and won everyone over in the course of an evening, and you only grew more important with each passing day. They’d all been friends before you, but in the wake of you they became a family. You were the glue, you were the last to join the group but you became the nexus, and if they lost you he didn’t know what would happen. He didn’t want to find out.
So he let himself cry, let a few tears slip before saying goodbye to his old man and packing it down. He couldn’t let himself spiral any more than he already had, and he couldn’t have you coming home to realize he hadn’t kept his promise when you’d kept yours. He spent the next day and a half being Rooster, he was goofy and borderline annoying but he kept everyone together, he made sure everyone kept their spirits high and their worry to a minimum, and he made sure Jake got out of bed. He did what he could, and in the end it was everything because there the squad was with beers in their hands and smiles on their faces as they watched Jake kick Coyote’s ass, because even though he was falling apart and he didn’t know if you were even alive, he’d never give anyone the satisfaction of ousting him at his own pool table.
“Any word?” Bob asked quietly to Phoenix who shook her head and when he let out a relieved sigh the few people in hearing distance snapped their attention to him, varying degrees of disbelief and disgust on their faces. “If she were dead we’d know by now.” he supplied, and while his lack of tact was surprising, Bob was always mindful of what he said and how he said it, this served to ease people’s nerves. He was right. If you were dead, Jake would have been notified by now and none of them would be standing around the bar.
“We’ll know when we know,” Rooster said before walking down to the bar to get a fresh drink but something stopped him in his tracks, a brief flash in the distance beyond the windows that had him questioning his grip on reality because it was gone just as quick as he’d seen it… but he could have sworn he saw you. He tried to push past it, blame it on fried nerves and too much on his plate but he couldn’t. He had to be certain so he pushed past those doors and tentatively stepped out onto the beach, “way to go, Rooster. You’ve officially lost it,” he muttered to himself as he peeked around the side of the building but he hadn’t lost it. He saw what he saw, and he stood there gobsmacked as he got full sight of you, your body facing outwards towards the ocean with your hair messily strewn across your shoulders and donning a standard issue uniform… minus the top which left you in a tight tank with a concerning amount of gauze wrapped around your arm.
“JJ?” he asked, approaching slowly and you startled, jumping as you turned to face him and he could see it clear as day. You were scared, and while the appropriate assumption would have been everything you’d gone through, maybe the story linked to those bandages, he knew you well enough to know that wasn’t it. There was something else keeping you outside the bar instead of reuniting with your family.
“Roo,” you started, but you didn’t have anything else to say so it fell flat. There were tears in your eyes and you looked relieved but that fear was just under the surface and his steps were fast to close the distance, wrapping you up in his arms as carefully as he could and he was almost taken aback by the way you gripped onto him, latching on with seemingly no intention of letting go.
“How long have you been out here?” he whispered into your hair and he felt you shudder beneath him.
“A while,” you answered, and he realized that shudder was a humorless laugh. “I didn’t… I don’t know why, I just couldn’t-” you tried but your voice was thick and you didn’t need to say anything more. He understood. He knew coming home would be difficult for you, especially under these circumstances, and he didn’t need you to explain that you weren’t out here because you wanted to be, but because you felt like you couldn’t go inside.
“I know. You’re home and that’s what matters,” he pulled back to look at you but he didn’t go far, keeping his grip firm on you because he had a feeling it was what you needed. Much like the way you’d loop your hand through his when you were telling a story, so animated and excited you could barely get the words out fast enough, because you needed the physical tether. You needed to feel grounded so you didn’t get swept away by whatever it was you were saying or thinking. 
“I uh…” you shook your head and cleared your throat. “I got evacuated, by the time this healed and I was cleared I’d be going home anyways,” you said, nodding to your shoulder. “I didn’t call and I-”
“Stop, you had bigger things going on,” Rooster said, cutting you off entirely. He had tears in his eyes looking down at you, your hands gripping his arms so tightly and your features so soft and vulnerable in stark contradiction to the khaki pants and clunky boots and suddenly he felt selfish. “Let me go get Jake,” he started, beginning to pull away from you but he stopped when your brows furrowed. “You don’t want me to?”
You shook your head, “no… no I do, I just… god, I keep doing everything wrong,” you sighed. “I signed up to go to war without so much as a heads up, I told you first, I… I couldn’t even call to tell him I was okay before just showing up and standing out here lost in my own thoughts for half an hour,” you let out another humorless chuckle. “I keep doing this wrong.”
“You’re doing the best you can. You know he doesn’t expect anything from you, right? He doesn’t have some grand idea about how this would go, he knows this isn’t going to be like your reunion at his tap out or at your match day,” he said and you smiled sadly.
“I forgot I told you those stories,” you said. 
“That’s not what he’s expecting, he’s… you know, he handled it better than I thought he would but he hasn’t been okay and that’s just because all he wants to know is that you are. He wants to know that you’re mostly in one piece, and he wants to hug you the way I am right now- well, okay… maybe not the way I am because it has been several months since you left and I would imagine-” he started to joke and you let out a laugh… a real one, and you went to push his shoulder, disentangling yourself from him but it only served to make you wince.
You shook your head when his eyes widened, “it’s okay, just sore. You’re right… will you- will you go get him? And be cryptic,” you said, referencing the way Jake had called Rooster out minutes before your call disconnected. “I don’t know if I’m ready for everyone yet.”
“On it,” he replied, already moving to head inside.
“Wait, Rooster?” you called and he stopped, turning to face you. You gave him one of those blinding smiles, one that felt like a glimpse of the you before you left, the one that didn’t wear standard issue khakis and clunky boots, the one that wasn’t harder and shaper, and the one that hadn’t confessed to him you didn’t know if you were okay. You gave him that smile that was so you as you ran and jumped into him, squeezing him so tightly it sucked all the air from his lungs and he laughed as he caught you, twirling you around. “Thank you.” 
“What for, JJ?” 
“For being my person.” 
“Thanks for coming home,” he replied and you gave him one more squeeze before dropping down to the ground and he gave you a nod before disappearing inside. You resumed your earlier pacing, already feeling lighter after seeing Rooster and for as selfish and awful as you felt for always getting this wrong with Jake, it took the edge off. It made seeing him feel less daunting, and while you’d spent the previous half hour working yourself into a tizzy about how he would react or what he would say you now felt silly. Rooster was right, all he wanted right now was you, just like you wanted him. He wouldn’t be mad at you for not calling, he wouldn’t be mad at you for having a reunion with Rooster first, he would simply be your Jake. 
“What the hell is so urgent with your precious truck? I don’t even want to be here but you made me and now you’re ruining my streak,” you heard Jake complaining as the door to the bar opened and you couldn’t help but chuckle as you waited for them to round the corner.
“Okay, first of all, it’s not a truck, it’s a Bronco,” Rooster corrected, “and once again you might not want to be so hard on me when you see what it is,” he added and you couldn’t fight the smile on your face. You weren’t okay and you knew that, but you would be because you had them. You had your people and you were home, and that’s all that mattered.
“What does that- what the fuck?” You’d walked closer, not wanting the distance to be any further than it already was when he rounded the corner and he nearly walked right into you. “Jupiter?” he asked, blinking in surprise and simply staring at you because he couldn’t be certain what he was seeing was real. 
“Hey you,” you replied, ignoring the single tear that streamed down your cheek and you let out a laugh as he crushed you in a hug, lifting you off the ground and forcing your legs around him to keep your balance. 
Rooster stood and watched for a moment, soaking in this moment of unbridled joy between his two best friends before taking his leave. “So much for it not being like the tap out,” he said and you mouthed thank you to him over Jake’s shoulder as he went back inside. 
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, one hand firm on your waist and the other cupping your thigh as you pulled back slightly to look down at him, to commit that beautiful face of his gazing up at you with pure adoration to memory.
“It’s a long story and I… I’m not ready to talk about it yet,” you answered and he nodded, slowly lowering you to the ground to cup your face and press a kiss to your forehead.
“You don’t have to, not until you’re ready, I just…” he pulled back to look at you again and the emotion in his eyes cracked your heart wide open, and with it the flood of anxiety and uncertainty you’d pushed aside. “I was so worried something had happened.”
“I’m so sorry, Jake,” you started, that single tear giving way to an onslaught and his face crumpled at the sight. “I should have called, I should have-”
“Hey, no no no… that’s not what I meant,” he said, trying to reassure you as he smoothed his hands along your back. “I’m just so happy you’re home,” he said, trying to quell your tears but it was no use. He finally got a chance to really look at you, to soak you in and his heart broke when he noticed the bandages around your arm and you started to shake your head.
“Come on, come sit with me?” you asked and he nodded, catching one of your hands as you walked further out onto the beach and sank into the sand and he looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to find the words. You didn’t know if you were ready to talk about it yet but you needed to, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to let it go no matter how hard he tried to be supportive. “What you heard… we got ambushed, I’m still not entirely sure what happened but uh… it wiped most of the camp out,” you said, voice shaking and Jake tried to keep his feelings off his face as you spoke. “My call to Rooster saved my life, anyone that was near the command center-” you cut yourself off with a shake of your head and he squeezed your hand in reassurance. “I did what I could, I tried to get to as many people as I could but there wasn’t enough time, or enough hands and I got caught in the crossfire,” you said, gesturing to your arm. “It was a lucky shot, if you could even call it that. I’ll be okay, just not cleared to work yet which is why I’m home. It’ll be another few weeks before I am and at that point my deployment would have been over.”
“J, I’m so sorry…” he started, his hand gently cupping your arm just beneath the bandages. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” he said, pulling you into him and you moved into his lap to wrap your arms around him more easily, not paying any mind to the way you felt your stitches tugging.
“I’ll be okay. I can’t… I don’t think I can tell you any more, not right now.” You pulled away to look at him seriously, “it’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just… things are different over there, I was different over there. I did things and I saw things I can’t begin to unpack right now but I want you to know that I plan to set something up at the hospital, a specialist to talk to so I can sort it out. I just… right now I really need everything to just go back to normal.”
“There’s no rush, sweetheart. You’ll tell me when you’re ready and if you never do, well… that’s alright too, as long as you talk to someone. All I cared about was you getting back home to me, even if Rooster had to get the first look at you,” he teased and you pouted.
“In my defense he wandered out and found me, that wasn’t intentional,” you protested.
“Yeah sure, whatever… the pornstache is your person and I just have to deal with that.”
“He might be my person but you’re the love of my life, you know that right? You are who got me through everything over there, and you are who I thought about day in and day out.”
“Oh yeah? And what exactly is it you thought about?” he asked, that famous smirk of his playing on his lips and you rolled your eyes.
“The audacity to call Rooster pornstache when you are trying to put the moves on your wife who just got back from war!” you laughed and he shifted you in his lap, pulling your leg to the side so you were straddling him and the contact on your core elicited a reaction that completely undercut the way you were trying to tease him.
“You did say you wanted everything to go back to normal,” he muttered, letting his lips trail along the column of your neck and he was right… you did want everything to go back to normal and this was something you’d thought about every moment you could while you were gone. 
“This is utterly indecent,” you sighed, feeling him growing hard beneath you and you pushed him back because if he kept going you’d scandalize the beach. “And mind you we are both in our uniforms right now,” you added.
“Yeah, by the way? This is super hot,” he said, letting his eyes trail over you appreciatively. “You’ve got a real Lara Croft thing going on right now and I’m into it.”
“Lara Croft!” you laughed, “she never even wore pants.”
“Please let me objectify my super hot, super tough wife in peace, thank you,” he said, and as you stared down at him you realized you hadn’t kissed him yet and you couldn’t believe you’d overlooked it. You pressed your lips to his softly, all pent up love and emotion but quickly it turned hungry… all tongues and biting lips as you gripped his biceps. 
“Take me home then, objectify me all you want, Lieutenant,” you said, pulling away to catch your breath and his eyes darkened as he was quick to stand pulling you up with him and you couldn’t help the squeals and laughter falling from your lips as he hurled you over his shoulder. You felt everything in your life right now was unsteady, you had no idea to come back to civility after what you’d been through but you had the tools to do it the best you could, and more importantly you had Jake who was everything you needed him to be and more. 
There wasn’t any sort of guidebook you could follow, and you didn’t know if this was how your return should have gone. You thought maybe you should be more damaged, you shouldn’t be laughing as your husband ran across the beach with you in tow, or maybe that’s exactly what you should have been doing. You didn’t really know, and you didn’t really care because you were home, and whatever came next you’d handle as it came with Jake by your side.
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abbybubbls · 5 months
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One more time, boys... and then, you'll be free!
Without the logo and tagline:
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paigemathews · 1 year
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Time for another Paige powers post! (Also, this is over two thousand words and I didn’t really know where to cut it, so I didn’t. I am very sorry.) According to canon, there’s a couple of different factors going on with witches’ past lives and their current powers. 
You typically have the same powerset across lives. (Piper with molecular-based powers; Prue and Paige with telekinesis; Phoebe with psychic powers.)
The choices you make and the way that you use your powers, however, dictate the strength, advancements, or devolvement that your next life’s powers will take.
If you misuse your powers, you’ll lose them in your next life. If you use them well, they’ll grow.
P. Russell misused her pyrokinesis, but didn’t really misuse her divinization. When she reincarnated into Phoebe Halliwell, she lost her pyrokinesis but gained premonitions instead.
P. Baxter didn’t misuse her power of molecular deceleration in her lifetime. When she reincarnated as Piper Halliwell, it evolved into molecular immobilization.
Either way, we never see a witch outright all lose their magical abilities between lifetimes, even if they misuse them.
Now onto Paige. Obviously, Miss Paige was the Evil Enchantress, who had telekinesis (that Paige retained) and Conjuring the Elements. In A Knight to Remember, we really only see the Evil Enchantress use: telekinesis, aerokinesis, and electrokinesis. Considering Paige’s apartment was on fire, she also presumably used pyrokinesis. Even if Paige lost the powers that the Evil Enchantress misused, that still leaves cryokinesis, geokinesis, and hydrokinesis that she could have displayed. So some thoughts on the possibilities.
Paige gets cryokinesis, which actually might be one of my favorites. We already saw a link between cryokinesis and telekinesis with P. Bowen’s past life, so it makes sense. Plus, the angst potential for Paige getting a power from Prue’s past life? Prue was supposed to eventually gain it again, but instead Paige gets it. Also, cryokinesis is so cool and I wanted to see more of it.
For actual usage, Paige being able to freeze demons in a very different way than Piper. Admittedly, it might be too similar to Piper’s from a narrative sense but I think that they could work around it. We didn’t see it very often, so they could expand on it. At the very least, she’d definitely would use it to freeze drinks during some of those heatwaves while Piper and Phoebe go Paige!! And she just rolls her eyes what?? 
We’re gonna skip past geokinesis for a minute, but Paige gets hydrokinesis in the season five premiere. Honestly, you can really take your pick of how she gets it, but it’d have to be a bit more of a Paige episode. 
You could have her be the one transformed into the mermaid and be able to control water. They think it’s a mermaid power until Mylie tells them its not.
Piper is drowning and Leo isn’t there, so Paige is trying to heal her but actually draws the water out of her lungs to save her.
The Sea Hag sees herself in Paige, a young hybrid witch that is undeniably othered from those who she should be able to relate to. (You can change up the backstory however you want, the one I linked is just focused on the Little Mermaid allusions.) She senses Paige’s power and wants to mentor her.
When Phoebe is fleeing, Paige can either stop her or dives in after her and finds that she can actually get there.
You could definitely do something with Paige having hydrokinesis and Patty’s death by drowning. Plus, it’d be a cool power to see utilized more. Imagine Paige draining the water out of the air to create a wave or using it to immobilize demons by bloodbending. Again, we didn’t really see a lot of it, so they could definitely expand on it!
For geokinesis, this was actually one of my least favorites but now that I’ve though about it, I think I’d vibe with it. In I Dream of Phoebe, Paige could have discovered and raised Zanbar or destroyed it, one of the two. You could also do something with earthquakes since the girls live in San Francisco. I’m gonna be honest, I’m not really sure exactly how to do this one but I definitely think that you could. 
I think that it’d be cool to connect geokinesis to phytokinesis, aka the manipulation of plants. I know that it technically isn’t included in Conjuring the Elements, but I think that it should be. She could manifest it in the beginning of season five and struggle to really do something offensive with it. She’s trying so hard, but she just sprouts a flower at a demon and he laughs while Piper just sarcastically asks if that’s it while Phoebe goes Paige! And her sisters don’t really realize that Paige is actually struggling and trying and that they hurt her feelings, so she keeps trying and finally manages to use it offensively but it still feels off somehow. And then in Lucky Charmed, her power is blooming in the leprechaun's forest which she doesn’t really realize. In Cat House, we see that the flowers and decorations and stuff in the past, especially during Piper and Leo’s wedding, are like dying during the conflict and then when they resolve it and Phoebe and Paige are leaving, we see Paige pass by or look at it and it just grows so beautiful. Which brings us to Nymphs Just Wanna Have Fun where Paige is transformed into a nymph and she actually gets to see the beauty of her power and she’s just so happy when she can love her powers instead of having to find a way to fight with them. Piper and Phoebe are trying to talk some sense into her and she finally breaks the dreamy nymph look to be upset before reverting back to that dreamy, dancing girl. Paige is ultimately the one who saves the day in the Eternal Spring by using her powers offensively and becomes a witch again to do so. Before she leaves though, one of the nymphs gently touches her arm and tells her there is power in your magic, but it is also a source of extraordinary beauty. you don’t need to only pick one. and then the sisters leave and we see in the last couple of minutes that Paige intentionally blooms flowers in the manor and gives them to her sisters, who are just happy that Paige has found that happiness in her magic.
Honestly, you could also still give her one of the powers that she did misuse and strip the others. (You could also actually give her multiple elemental powers if you wanted to. I will say that I’d prefer them not making her the Avatar just bc then it’s a matter of why does she even need the Power of Three but you still could.)
For aerokinesis, you could incorporate it into the show with how they already use it. She uses it against the Evil Enchantress, which the sisters figure is just how past lives and powers work. From there, you have two options: Leo kinda just goes 😶 that is not how that works and they figure it out there or the sisters end up traveling back in time later in the season (1920′s episode!!) and run across their past selves (also Paige’s 1920′s self!!). Phoebe tries to use her past life’s powers and it doesn’t work and their past lives are just like 🤨 it doesn’t work like that. And then they have P. Russell, before her turn, and P. Bowen (if they can get Shannen back; if not, she’s out of town for some reason or another) to help Paige learn the trigger for her aerokinesis. Also, I feel like there’d be a lot of fun plotlines because that is a big power and imagine trying to learn how to control it. Paige accidentally hurting someone with it and being afraid of it? Paige causing property damage, such as blowing all of the lights, and then a shadow demon being in the manor. Paige learns how to fly with it and offers to fly with her sisters and Phoebe is like 😬 i already learned my lesson on that one. 
Especially because it’d be such a dangerous power! Girl literally controls the wind. She could obviously use it in big showy ways, knocking a demon across the room, flying, etc. But even the more subtle ways, like creating a breeze to distract someone by making them chase down papers or bringing something to her, etc. Plus, not only does she have to grapple with it as her evil past life’s favorite power, but Shax had this power. She has the same power as the sister she never met’s murderer. Ooh, imagine if she actually learned about it early season four and Piper and Phoebe’s reactions and her knowledge of Shax and learning about her evil past life. Potential there.
Okay, but moving on from aerokinesis, electrokinesis! I always have a mixed reaction when it comes to people trying to argue that. Well, not even witchlighters but Chris specifically should have electrokinesis bc his dad was an Elder when he was conceived, but the show very well could have made that canon if they wanted to give Paige electrokinesis. (But it’s not so if anyone ends up in my inbox about Chris and being half-elder, imma lose it.) Imagine, Paige isn’t sure why she has this power that she used for evil and it turns out its because her past life combined with her current life’s whitelighter side meant that she had it, even though she shouldn’t. The juxtaposition of her evil past and her good heritage working together when no one knows if she should really have it. I mean, Paige literally nearly killed a man with her Whitelighter powers by trying to telekinetically orb that guy’s heart out of his chest, so having the ability to literally throw lightning??
But also I am obsessed with electrokinesis and I think it’s cool af. It obviously has a lot of combat uses, along with being fun to see in the everyday. Paige accidentally shocking her sisters a little bit or having to deal with the static electricity with her powers. Again, losing power in the house and having to figure it out. Cole using that to manipulate Phoebe or try to turn the sisters against Paige with that. Paige zapping people a little bit when they’re being annoying. Paige no-selling the shock cages, bc hel-lo she can simply absorb the electricity instead.
And finally! Pyrokinesis. Gonna be honest, I don’t really like the idea of Paige having pyrokinesis, it feels too connected to Phoebe. (Abi, didn’t you connect half of these powers to the other sisters anyways? Yep!) Phoebe and pyrokinesis is a thing across seasons, so if you’ve giving a sister that power full time, I just feel like it has to be Phoebe. Also, we see so many freaking beings with pyrokinesis that we really don’t need a sister to have it. It just feels boring at that point. But still! I have committed, and thus I’ll give some ideas.
Paige not knowing that pyrokinesis is associated with demons until her sisters tell her and Cole using that to cast doubt on Paige in season four instead. Paige learning how to use a power that has been used against all of them time and time again. Taking a power so deeply attached to evil and giving it to not only a good witch, but a Charmed One and a Whitelighter hybrid.
Paige’s witch and Whitelighter side combining pyrokinesis and photokinesis so that she can create light that burns. The contrast between good and evil in this new sister and if you can really trust her.
Paige bonding with Tyler Michaels over his power! She helps him realize that he is a good person and a good kid. Depending on how long she’s had her power for, she helps teach him how to control it or he shows her some tricks that he’s learned. 
We bring in witch hunters more often, maybe even as a season plot. They’re trying to burn witches and they narrowly evade them time and time again until they’re trapped and they can’t get out, but Paige controls the fire that she didn’t make and turns it against the witch hunters. Paige not being able to burn! (Paige befriending a Phoenix witch and learning about the power of a witch taking the fire that was meant to destroy them and their kind and instead making it her own source of power.)
Okay, actually, Paige with pyrokinesis is a lot more of a vibe than I thought lmao. 
But seriously, Paige with an elemental power would have been so good! She never really gained another power, but she was canonically a powerhouse in her past life. Plus, at least one of the sisters should have gotten an elemental power considering three out of four canonically had an elemental power in her past life. It doesn’t hurt that the elemental powers were so cool! But yeah, I’m back on my Paige should have had another power soapbox again! :)
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lovelybrooke · 2 months
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What’s up with MC? (Platonic yandere Hazbin Hotel immortal au)
So I've really wanted to write some stuff about reader and their life. I hope this helps you guys understand them a little bit more. This doesn't have much to do with Hazbin Hotel, but hopefully you still enjoy.
Trigger Warning for: Very bad/neglectful parenting, disassociation, talks of regretting a child, bullying, please tell me if I need to include anything else.
masterlist
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You were born a very small and loud baby. You cried and cried, even after your mother took you into her arms and laid you down on her chest. Even when your father took you for a few seconds so he could hand you to the nurse. And even when she rolled you down the hallways of the hospital to get your test done. It wasn't until you cried yourself asleep that it was finally quiet.
Life wasn't always so bad, back when your dad was around and your mom wasn't a drunk. Your father worked at a family pharmacy, had good hours and was home before dinner. Your mother stayed at home taking care of you. She would make you lunch, play games with you, and would even rent movies from the library to watch with you. In your childlike eyes, life was perfect.
Things weren't perfect though. In reality, your mother got pregnant young, forcing her to marry your father when she was 20. In her young, 20 year old mind, she thought she loved your father and he thought he loved her. So getting married seemed like the next step when she realized she was pregnant. And she loved you, she loved your smooth skin, she loved giving you baths, and dressing you up. But she didn't like the crying, and the sick days, and the clinginess. She hated having to be the one to deal with all those things while your father was at work. And when he was at home, he wasn't a help either. He was distant, they never talked or loved each other like they did when they were teens.
Your mother started drinking when you were three. It started off with wine at dinner, then at lunch and dinner, then at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Eventually, she started picking you up from Pre K drunk, the other moms could smell it on her. One mom told an admin who told the principal who told your mom that another parent would need to pick you up. You could faintly remember the fight your mom had in the parking lot and then with your father at the dining room table. Whenever your mom got like that, you imagined that you weren't yourself, instead you were a character in one of the books your mom used to read to you. It helped.
As your mom got worse, your father slowly stopped showing up. He said he had more work, his boss was getting older so he had to pick up the slack. When he was home, he was distant and cold. He never wanted to play with you, he treated you less like his child and more like an associate. As you got older you knew it was because he didn't want this life, he didn't like his 9 to 5, and he didn't like coming home to a drunk wife and a child he never desired to have. And when he stopped showing up, a part of you, even though you barely knew him, was relieved. It meant less fights, less loud yelling, and less time spent inside your own head.
You were a quiet kid all throughout school. You never were good at making friends, but it wasn't something that bothered you. With your dad gone, money got tight, and when you were seven, your mom started working at your local supermarket. It wasn't great, but it was better than having no money. That's also when she started smoking. You stopping kissing her goodnight because she smelt like cigarets. You felt bad, but she didn't seem to care.
When you were eight, you were trying to climb a tree in your backyard when you fell, breaking both of your legs in the process. You laid there until the bright blue sky became black, eventually falling asleep and having the strangest dream. Your mother didn't find you until the next morning, your cries being drown out by the beers and t.v. She took you the hospital where you were apparently fine.
When you were ten your father called the house. It was a Saturday meaning your mom would sleep in, and when you picked up the phone, you heard a voice you didn't know. It was old, manly, and angry. He was shouting something about money and credit cards, and when you hung up, he called again, and again, and again, until eventually your mother woke up. They argued for hours and when they were finished, your mother told you not to answer the phone again, so you didn't.
When you got to middle school you experienced bullying for the first time. A girl in your 3rd period made fun of your clothes, which your mother found at the thrift store. You never realized that you wore the same clothes every day until then, and so when you got home you learned how to use the washing machine. From that day on you did the laundry in your house, and when your mother suggest you make dinner, you did that too. It eventually became a routine, you'd go to school, your mom went to work, you'd get home and clean the house, do laundry, and make dinner, all while you mom watched t.v. It never bothered you, because if you didn't do it, who would.
The bullying didn't stop, even into high school. You were the poor kid with a drunk mom and an absentee father, you were the prime subject for bullying. It was never anything big, the occasional teasing and mocking, especially on days when your mother would pick you up. It was embarrassing, to have her yell at you from her old, beat up truck. Or when she'd smoke in the school parking lot. Or when she rant to you about work and get mad when you interjected. You got better as you got older ignoring it, ignore her, ignoring the way she made you feel.
When kids would talk about your dad, you'd make up a different person in your head since you never remembered who he was. You imagined him as a prince, handsome and knightly. You imagined dancing with him, him kissing you on the forehead before you went to sleep, and him telling you he loved you. You guessed that was the great thing about having a deadbeat dad, he can just kinda be whoever you wanted, even if it wasn't real.
When you were 15, you were working on a project after school when your mom forgot to pick you up. You were forced to walk home from school, alone, in the cold, when a car swerved your way and you fell unconscious. You were having the craziest dream until you woke up, in your bed, your mom asleep in the living room, game shows playing loudly on the t.v.
You stopped relying on your mother for anything after that. You stopped expecting her to help you, stopped expecting her to pick you up from school, or to even pay your bills. You got a job and started contributing what you could so you could keep the lights on. You knew it wasn't right, that this isn't how a parent should act. But she was still your mom, she still loved you, right? If not, then what was all this for.
---
A/n: I think I made readers life too tragic, sorry. Parts of this were based on my own experiences growing up but nothing this bad, so feel free to tell you what you think.
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merchelsea · 7 months
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just maybe - lewis hamilton
pairing: ex!lewis hamilton x fem!reader
summary: lewis misses what you used to be, and what a better way to show it than showing up, drunk, at your house?
author’s note: felt like writing lewis today because not enough people do!
word count: 1,1k
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you lay on your couch, your phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling through your Instagram feed for what felt like the thousandth time that day. you knew there wouldn't be anything new, but you couldn't help yourself. you had been in the same position all day, unable to shake off the melancholy that had settled over you.
it had all started because you wanted to watch a romantic movie, a harmless way to pass the time. but as the movie played on, you found yourself crying, wishing desperately for a happy ending like the one onscreen. you and lewis used to have those moments, those beautiful moments that now only existed in your memories.
every scene in the movie triggered a bittersweet memory. they weren't sad memories, per se, but the fact that they were over made them so. you decided it was time to stop torturing yourself, to stop watching movies that made you cry over your ex, and to simply wait for something to happen. but, of course, nothing did.
that is, until you heard a series of knocks on your door. you rushed to answer it, expecting it to be a friend or maybe your sister. but when you laid eyes on the familiar brown ones you had been crying over just hours ago, shock coursed through you.
"heeeeey," lewis slurred, clearly intoxicated. fate seemed to be playing a cruel prank on you.
you stared at him for a few moments before finally finding your voice. "what the heck are you doing here?" you asked, blocking his path from entering your home.
lewis smirked knowingly. "oh, didn't seb warn you?" he said, referring to his friend vettel, who must have sent you a message the moment he knew lewis was drunk and thinking about you.
because that's what happened when he got drunk. he'd think back to your relationship and regret every detail that had gone wrong. vettel always thought lewis would try to contact you, but he never had the courage to do it—until today.
lewis had qualified third in a race after a series of unfortunate events, finally giving him a shot at victory. but, unpredictably, he had to retire from the race on the first lap.
"I missed you." lewis confessed, leaning against your doorframe as if aware of how powerful those words were.
"you don't know what you're saying, lewis," you sighed. you had spent the last seven months dreaming of hearing those words from him, but this was not how you imagined it.
"oh, I know exactly what I'm saying. believe me," he insisted.
"you're drunk!" you retorted.
"and? that doesn't change the fact that I think about you all the time. about us. about what we used to be," he said, refusing to give up.
you stood there silently, thinking he would back off if you didn't give him a hint of what you were feeling. but of course he had other plans. you sighed and stepped back from the door, allowing lewis to enter. he leaned against the closed door, and you couldn't tear your eyes away from his.
"I miss you when I'm at the simulator, and you're not there to beat my ass. I miss you when I go to lunch and forget to eat because I'm distracted by your smile. I miss you when toto speaks german, and we don't make jokes about it. I miss you when I'm walking, and our legs aren't in sync. I miss you when I wear my hats, and you're not there to steal them. I miss you when I see a cat on the streets, and you don't try to convince me to adopt it. I miss you when Max wins, and you're not there to congratulate him."
you were rendered speechless. every word he uttered, as he gazed deeply into your eyes, pierced your heart. you couldn't look away, but you feared that if you continued to stare, you wouldn't be able to let him go.
"I know I seem drunk, but this is the most truthful thing I've said in, like, forever. it's been almost eight months, and I still miss you in everything I do," he finally stood up and, somehow, managed to get closer to you. "tell me you don't miss me, and I'll never bother you again."
you took a deep breath and locked eyes with him. it was clear he had been drinking, but not enough to make him drunk. his little play could fool everyone, but it would never fool you.
you knew you missed him with every fiber of your being, but you weren't sure if it was the right thing to say. maybe, just maybe, he needed to move on, to find someone else who fit into his life.
but then, a voice inside your head reminded you that if he hadn't moved on after seven months without any contact, he probably wouldn't after eight. you couldn't lie to him when he had been missing you relentlessly for seven months.
"I miss you when I'm doing laundry, and I don't find your shirt in the wrong basket. I miss you when I'm taking a shower and don't hear the pre-qualifying comments. I miss you when I see a Mercedes on the road. I miss you when I play uno with my friends, and you don't win. I miss you when you're racing, and I'm at home, but not because I have things to do. I miss you when I'm not missing you because of racing."
you also took a step closer to him. "then let me make you miss me the right way again, please."
as you stood there, locked in a moment of intense longing and emotion, you realized that maybe, just maybe, this was the moment you had been waiting for. lewis had come back, admitting his feelings, and you couldn't deny your own.
with tears welling up in your eyes, you took another step closer to him. in that moment, you both understood that some things were too strong to be denied or forgotten, no matter how much time had passed.
you whispered softly, "lewis, I'll miss you no matter what, so please make me miss you the right way."
lewis' eyes lit up with hope and joy, and he gently pulled you into his arms. as you embraced, you both knew that this was a chance to have a fresh start, to rebuild what you once had. it wouldn't be easy, and there were still obstacles to overcome, but you were both willing to try.
in that moment, as you held each other tightly, you realized that sometimes, fate had a way of bringing people back together, even when it seemed impossible. and maybe, just maybe, this was the happy ending you had been longing for all along.
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pedroshotwifey · 5 months
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Christmas Countdown Day 7 - Christmas Lights
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Mess Up
Pairing: Husband!Jack Daniels x Pregnant!Wife!Reader
Word count: 1.6k
Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, angst, past family trauma (not with Jack), hurt/comfort, communication, healthy relationship, Jack is the best husband, anxious reader, fluffiest fluff I've ever written, preggo reader, forehead kisses, gentle giant jack, stuff im forgetting
Summary: Jack comforts you after you spiral into past traumas. Aka: Jack being a good husband.
A/N: This fic was supposed to contain filthy smut with a different pedge boy, but wifey had a sad day so...here we are 🫠 Also, seven consistent days?? What?? Go Wifey!!
***
You look at the stack of plastic boxes piled up in the middle of the living room. A mixture of gray, purple, and transparent blue bins filled with various ornaments, wall decor, and table accessories. A pile of black trash bags filled with garland lays hap-hazardly next to them. Jack must have gotten them down from the attic before he left for work this morning. 
You had asked him the day before to do that for you. Usually, you could do so yourself, but considering you’re eight months pregnant, you figured it probably wasn’t the best idea–not that Jack would ever have let you do it anyway. 
It’s been a bit boring around the house lately since Jack’s been working extra hours. He’s been insistent on putting a bit more work in so the two of you can fatten up your savings account for when the baby gets here. That way, as he says, there will be more opportunity for him to stay home with you after you give birth. 
He’s so thoughtful, always thinking ahead about what’s best for you and the baby in the long run. You have no idea how you got so lucky.
You smile to yourself, shaking your head as you go to pry the lid off of the bin at the top of the stack. A small sticky note sits on top of it, and you smile as you immediately recognize the handwriting. 
Should be home early today. I Love you little Mama, have a good day. 
P.S.: Don’t overwork yourself!
- Your Jackie
You smile giddily as you stare at the loopy writing, full of love. 
*** 
You have most of the decor up within a few hours; all that’s left is decorating the tree. 
You pick up a strand of lights out of a gray bin and look up at the tip of the tree with a scowl. You hate putting the first strand up alone. When Jack’s here, you always make him do it since he’s a good bit taller than you. 
You look around the room, trying to find something you can use to step on or lift the lights up. Your eyes land on a chair in the dining room. Perfect.
You drag the chair over the base of the tree and take a step back, making sure it’s lined up with where you need to be. There’s no way you’re climbing up onto that thing just for it to be in the wrong spot. 
It looks about right.
With a little grunt work–and a lot of maneuvering around your massive belly–you manage to get your knees on the seat, and from there, you stand up the rest of the way. You smile proudly as you look at the top of the tree, which is now only a couple inches taller than you. You feel almost rebellious, as stupid as that may sound. 
You reach up and begin to loop the first bit around the top. Just as you get it secured, you hear a faint jingling sound coming from the front hall. Your face lights up. Your husband is home.
Maybe you’ll make him do this part afterall. Your arms ache and you’re already almost out of breath from holding them up above you for so long. Letting them down, you balance the rest of the strand down on empty branches so it won’t fall.
“I’m home, darlin’, " Jack calls as he steps through the door. 
“I’m in here,” you call back excitedly. You can’t wait for him to see what you’ve spent your day doing. 
You turn around in the chair and face toward the living room entrance, waiting for him so you can see his reaction. He steps into the room and you smile widely at him, only to be confused when his mouth drops open just slightly. He looks upset, and your stomach drops. 
“Hey!” He barks quickly. “Wh-what the hell do you think you’re goddamn doin’?” He suddenly bolts toward you and lifts you by your underarms to bring you to the floor. You’re back on your feet before you can even register what happened. 
You’re taken aback at his loud tone and rushed actions, a small hurt settling deep in your chest before you can stop it. You look up at him with a frown, disappointed in yourself for making him unhappy, for making him use a tone like that in the first place. He never raises his voice at you.
Your eyes are watering even though you’re still confused, your lip quivering as you look ashamedly up at him. Does he not like the decorations? Were you supposed to wait until he got home to start? Did you mess up?
He looks almost angry, and the thought is enough to send a pang of panic and regret throughout your entire body. You messed up. You messed up, you messed up.
You’re suddenly set back to your teenage years again. Back to feeling tiny and pathetic as people tell you how annoying you are, how you can’t ever do anything right, how you’re nothing more than a childish inconvenience. 
You see your father, ignoring you as usual, only talking to you to complain about something or another. Your mother, drunk, ready to spill her nightly sob-story because she’s the only one allowed to have one. Your grandma, telling you to stop being such a crybaby because she doesn’t understand that you hurt and you just want a break.
You see yourself, forced to take it all, bottle it up, and never complain. Back to having to act happy for the sake of others, but not too happy, because then you’re on everyone’s nerves. Back to trying your hardest through it all to be patient, understanding, and kind, because if you’re anything less than that, you’re a spoiled brat.
Back to feeling worthless, hating yourself, messing up.
You open your mouth to say something–you’re not sure what–but all that comes out is a pathetic blubber as your tears spill over. 
Jack’s eyes widen as he realizes what he’s done. 
“Oh, no, no, no, no,” he says, holding you close to him. “I’m so sorry baby, you know I didn’t mean to snap at you,” you can hear the shame in his voice, but all you can think is I did this, it’s my fault, I messed up.
His arms are wrapped tightly around you as you sob into his chest. 
All of your emotions feel heightened with your pregnancy, and thinking about your childhood was finally the thing to set you off. Jack is well acquainted with your past, but you still wish he didn’t have to see you breaking down over it like this. 
You know that he didn’t mean it, and that’s why you’re so frustrated with yourself. He’s never treated you like that. Never has, never will. You take in a few shuddering breaths as you think about that fact.
He rubs soothing circles on your back and mutters genuine little sorry’s and uplifting praises to you as you try to reign it all in. After a moment, your breath starts to even out and your tears stop flowing so aggressively. You hold onto him but lean back so you can look into his eyes, full of concern. 
“‘M sorry,” you say quietly, still feeling a wave of shame. He tuts and softly shakes his head at you before smoothing your hair down. 
He kneels down on one knee in front of you and takes his stetson off before sliding both of his hands up to cup your cheeks. His brows are furrowed and he has a look of sincerity that makes your heart skip a beat. 
“No, baby,” he says, looking at you adoringly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’a raised my voice at you just ‘cause I got scared. You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout, sweet thing.” he assures you sincerely. “You jus’ need to be a little more careful now is all.” 
 “Tha’s my baby in there,” he reminds you, nodding to your stomach. “’s very important to me to know that both of my girls are safe while I’m gone.” 
You muster up a smile and nod at him, appreciating that he’s taking the time to make sure you know what he’s thinking. He smiles warmly back at you. 
“I am sorry, though, I don’t know what I was thinking,” you apologize through the lump still partially lodged in your throat. You avoid eye contact as you say it, but you know he can see right through you–can see exactly where your head is stuck right now. 
“I swear you didn’t mess up, baby. You’re doing everything right. My perfect girl. You know that?” he asks, lifting his brows to emphasize his point. 
You sniffle a bit and nod at him. You don’t know how your love for him continues to grow so much every day. 
“I really ain't mad at you, angel, I’ll never be mad at you.” He smiles wider at you and strokes your cheek with his thumb.
You nod at him again, leaning into his hand. 
He sits up just enough to plant a delicate kiss on your forehead, and then on your lips, lingering there as if he could pour all of his love into you through such an action. When he pulls back, you have a genuine smile on your face.
“Alright, pretty little Mama,” he says, letting a hint of humor into his tone. “Let’s get the rest of them lights up for ya.”
***
Hope y'all liked it!! Lmk if you want to join wifey's christmas countdown tag list!!
FOTJC tag list: @arcanefox207 @redhotkitchen @magpiepills @exquisiteserotonin @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo @morallyinept @beskarandblasters @tightjeansjavi @theywhowriteandknowthings @nerdieforpedro @maggiemayhemnj @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @ghostofaboy @joels-shitty-puns @elvinaa
Cutie patootie (WCC) tag list: @amyispxnk @melaninmommy
Link to prompt list
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32bitterra · 13 days
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Kirby & The Amazing Mirror turns 20 today. I drew a little something to commemorate it.
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Sentimental old person rambling under the cut.
Amazing Mirror is my favorite video game, and it is one of my earliest video game memories. I played it before my sister was born, and before I could even READ. I distinctly remember calling it "Rock Hat Game" (referring to the stone ability) before my mother corrected me. For those unaware, the unique thing about this Kirby game is that the game lets you explore the Mirror World and beat the bosses in whichever order you want. This game was full of mystery to me as a child. This was before I had internet so I couldn't just look anything up. I was always wondering what I would find next. I spent HOURS trying to find rooms I hadn't been in yet, believing they held the most incredible secrets (a child's imagination is very powerful.) I believe I got my first glimpses of the final boss when I was around five or six years old. I remember Dark Meta Knight frightened me because of how fast he moved, but I loved the music that played when you fought him, so I'd leave the game paused just to hear it (too frightened to unpause it or else Dark Meta Knight would whoop my ass lol. Does anyone else remember holding the GBA speaker up to your ear to hear the music? I remember listening to the Candy Constellation theme like this.) Something this game is infamous for are the NUMEROUS times you have to beat the final boss, Dark Mind. I managed to get to his second-to-last phase, the giant eye, when I was six or seven or so. If I had to beat his first form four times, I wondered just how far it would go. I distinctly remember having a dream that some sort of mouse boss emerged from the eye (funnily enough, I got Squeak Squad for Christmas when I was nine.) I beat Amazing Mirror when I was eight years old. It was a Friday afternoon, and I was so excited to finally beat the game that my legs went numb lol. Fast forward a little to when I was twelve or so, I started trying to get 100% completion. This involves entering every room and getting every treasure. I know this game like the back of my hand now. When I was thirteen, I wanted to see how quickly I could beat it after watching speedruns. I can beat it 100% pretty quickly now. It's a game I like to play for my friends because I can beat it quickly and without dying.
The drawing above hardly begins to fully encapsulate how much I love the game, and I struggled trying to think of a drawing that could truly show my appreciation. In the end, I went for something rather simple. Emerald is my favorite spray paint color, but if you asked younger-me, I would have answered "Ocean." I was totally obsessed with finding all the spray paint colors, and I remember turning the game off and on to switch the colors to see how they'd look with the UFO ability. If anyone has read this far, tell me what your favorite spray paint color in Amazing Mirror is in the tags if you'd like! Also, the level backgrounds are absolutely beautiful in this game. They look like paintings, and I wonder if any high quality, non-GBA-compressed versions exist. The light blue Peppermint Palace background is my favorite (it's also my header.) Let me know what your favorite level and/or level background is as well. I'm gonna wrap this up because I've went on for too long blurting my guts out over a GBA game. I still feel like I've barely scratched the surface about all I love about this game. I will not be making this kind of long-winded rambling a habit though lol.
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arcplaysgames · 1 year
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The Persona 5 Post-Mortem, Part One: What I Didn't Like 8C
I have reread my entire P5 liveblog to refresh my memory of everything that happened in the game, and I've been trying to think about how I feel about P5R and, frankly, whether I like the game. Which is a very basic question, I think, but one I am deeply struggling with, so obviously it's not actually that simple, huh.
The answer I am tentatively settling on is: I think the third semester saves P5R from being an Actually Bad game.
I think that Persona 5 Vanilla is actually… a 5 out of 10 at best, and in my heart it's lower than that. But Royal does so much intense heavy lifting, it alone, separate from the rest of the game and the original campaign, is an 8 out of 10.
That is an enormous discrepancy that I've really never dealt with in a video game before. I think the last game I played that I truly disliked to my bones was Fallout 4. FO4 remains the only game I've ever played were I genuinely and truly wanted a refund of not just my money but my time, the hours I spent in that meaningless, vapid fucking world. Even FO3 gave me some joy of exploration, for fuck's sake.
P5R is not as bad as FO4, but the main campaign is to me an enormous disappointment that…. if I had not been in the throes of a depressive slump and thus needing something to hyperfocus on, I don't know if I would have finished the game. My frequent references to Yusuke saving me from turning off the game were not exaggeration in the least.
So, I think there are two major problems with this game. And I understand that when I did my post-mortem on P4G, I started with my likes and then went to dislikes, but I think for P5R it's correct to reverse that, because my negative feelings far outweigh the positive.
I guess point one is obvious: I think the cast of this game is bad.
I refuse to sugar-coat it. The cast of P5 is just bad, with a few mild exceptions. Even the characters that I like, I enjoy them comparatively to the ones I hate. And I have never hated someone in a Persona game before, not even Joker Mode Yosuke.
The entire cast of this game is much, much flatter than you would expect from a game that is trying so desperately to be stylish and loud and garish. P5R is maximalist to its fucking core. The fusions are executions, item creation is an electric chair, the menus are nightmares of high contrast and bouncing shapes, everything is LOUD LOUD LOUD 24/7 in this game to the point that I, a person I think is fairly skilled at video games and played P4G on Normal and breezed through it, had to lower the difficulty of the game to fucking have fun, because I felt so inundated with stimulus, I was struggling to play the fucking game.
That maximalist spirit just vanishes in the characters, and it's so fucking jarring. All style, no substance.
When I was trying to figure out my thoughts on the characters, the thing I kept coming back to was that P5 has too many main characters in the party. And weirdly, I think I'm right! P3 has seven party members (excluding beloved Koromaru, eight if you count Shinjiro who is in the party for a month). P4 only has seven.
Persona 5 Royal has nine, and I think part of the problem is that to fit all of these characters into the party and the story and to keep the MSQ scene moving at a decent pace, everyone suffers for it and gets flattened. Even the vibrancy of Yusuke vanishes from the game in the final third, where all his interesting tics and quirks are phased out until he's just a guy here to say his lines to move things along. Almost everyone suffers from this, where they are focal points during their introduction arc, and then they just lose all their shine as the story moves on.
This didn't happen in P3 and P4. That's not rose-tinted glasses talking; I JUST played both of those games starting in December. P3 is my true love but P4 is a tremendous example of how the characters continued to be themselves in every scene, even after their introductory chapters ended.
So the poison at the heart of P5R is that the characters are both not as three-dimensional to start with (and there are only a few I would even consider three-dimensional), and from the moment their respective Palaces end, they're on a half life.
This literally might be why I like Haru best, because she's introduced so late in the game that she didn't lose her voice yet by the endgame.
This is all of course at odds with the fact that only a few characters are really good. Futaba probably deserves the most accolades for being clear and present in every scene and always maintaining her uniqueness. Morgana as well, seeing as his arc lasts the entire game and is one of the central mysteries. And Akechi, without whom I think the entire game might have actually failed? Without the complexity and unnerving energy from Akechi, this cast could not sustain the runtime of the game.
AND ON TOP OF ALL OF THAT, it does not help that I actively disliked two of my party members. Makoto has by far the worse introduction of any character in any game I have played and the way the game just did not understand or contend with what she did, the stalking and blackmail and endangering everyone, soured her so completely for me that she never once got party time. I never used her.
But even she was a relief next to fucking Ryuji. Ryuji, the token best friend character who turned into The Teammate Everyone Hates for me. He was a mean, emotionally dense, disrespectful and dehumanizing asshole for the entire fucking game. And I am used to the Best Friend Guy who messes up and grows over the course of the game (see: Junpei and Yosuke) but with Ryuji there is no growth, there is barely acknowledgement of how cruel he is. And the fact he never actually apologized to Morgana for his bullshit in the middle of the game lost me completely on him. Ryuji made me as the player on the other side of the screen uncomfortable. That's…. wild, tbh.
So we have a cast where I can barely stand two characters, I'm ambivalent on three, one I regularly forgot she existed, and three I liked a lot.
That's a fucking mess, y'all. For a Persona game, which is a premium Hangout Game, where so much of the point is the characters? That's a huge problem.
The other games in this franchise like Shin Megami Tensei tend to have characters that are flatter and more allegorical in nature, but that's okay because the focus is on the themes and the writing of the world.
Which leads directly to the other problem with Persona 5.
The writing. On several metrics, the writing is Bad.
On the first point, the fact that this game has an 80 hour runtime if you are lucky, and that's just the vanilla MSQ. It feels like an 80 hour runtime. I felt every goddamn minute of how long this game is.
Structure is the problem here, in my opinion, and it goes hand in hand with the character issue. Just as this game has too many characters, it has too many set-pieces and arcs. To justify Makoto's presence in the game, there is a long, superfluous arc with Kaneshiro that should have just been cut entirely. Kaneshiro is about 10 hours that could just be snipped out of the game with nothing lost thematically or narratively.
And even more that P4 and DEFINITELY more than P3, the game will essentially…. repeat scenes.
As someone who did this entire liveblog with screencaps, I cannot tell you how many times I thought I missed capping a specific line or moment only to find out that it was in a nearly-identical scene a little bit earlier. Sometimes there were three different scenes that conveyed no new information, just restated what the characters knew, and that's just ridiculous. That's truly just too much.
On top of that, this game just gives the player way too much time. I didn't fill out every SLink in this game, but that's because I actively chose not to out of disinterest in a few of them. If I wanted to, I think I could have done every one without a guide. I spun my wheels for OVER TWENTY IN-GAME DAYS MULTIPLE TIMES. The pacing is a nightmare.
Another point I mentioned a lot was the technical quality of the writing.
This game is so over-produced, so maximalist, has so many small details, but the actual script as written for the game feels like it was done under crunch. Like, extreme crunch. Original FF7-style crunch.
It's hard to explain what this means, but in P4G, the script was lovingly crafted word by word and everything was incredibly naturalistic and conversational. There was never a moment when I had to refer to the log and reread anything, no point where a conversation lost me.
In P5R, this happened regularly. Awkward phrasings, responses that didn't make sense, repetitive sentence structure, and weird conversational pivots that did actually force me to go back and reread to understand what was being said.
Localizing a game of this scope and budget is a herculean task, and I know the game's English release was delayed. It just was not enough time. I would guess that this game needed at least another month or two to cook, but more than anything, the localization process should have been started a year before it was. The localization needed to be happening concurrently with the final year of development for a text this fucking dense.
It is so weird to see the extreme polish of the presentation of this game and then to just read the text aloud and go "wait, what" numerous times in a single playthrough.
(also this barely feels like its worth mentioning with the other issues but the lack of translation of the textures was unacceptably bad. I had to get a JPN-speaking friend to translate some things for me, and I really genuinely feel like missing out on some of this shit diminished the context of the game. Maruki's place is the most egregious offender but its everywhere.)
And finally, the last writing complaint is that until the Third Semester, this game has nothing to say. The Persona 5 Vanilla version of this game is……. meaningless but masquerading as thoughtful and rebellious.
Which is frankly hugely disappointing because this game does start strong with Joker and the repeated motif of imprisonment and betrayal. In just the first hour, Joker is beat up in an interrogation room, he's falsely accused of assault, his probation officer tells him he deserved it for stepping out of line, and every figure of authority from the principal to the teachers to his fellow students treat him like a murderer. It was a potent start to a game.
And in the end, Yaldaboath is just repeating the same fucking shit that Izanami did in P4G. People? More like SHEEPLE, amiright? People care more about being entertained than the TRUTH, and they want to be shadows/imprisoned.
Blah blah fucking blah. Persona needs to come up with something new to say because this was NOT it, chief, and was just disappointing given the strong start with Joker. I think this game's Big Theme can confidently be boiled down to "phones are like prisons," and its infuriating.
So much superfluous text and so little to say.
Until the Third Semester, anyway.
Next post will be about the things I liked, I promise.
26 notes · View notes
dumdumsun · 2 years
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To Nightfall
A/N: Welcome back!! It's been a long time coming, but whoo!!! We're here!!! I've completely written this story, but only the first three chapters are edited and polished. Dw, I'll have all chapters perfect for y'all before they're out. For now, please enjoy this first chapter ❤️❤️
Warnings: violence and blood, also no Footloose scene I'M SORRY (Viktor identifies as female in this chapter because I don't want to take away from his coming out)
Word Count: 6384
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Chapter 1: Meet the Family
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On the twelfth hour of the first day of October 1989, sixteen women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began. Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible--
He got eight of them.
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The day when everything had shifted into chaos started out as normal. (Y/N) Hargreeves strutted out of the shopping center she had spent the best part of her day in, her collection of shopping bags filling her hands and hanging from her forearms. Her hair and skin welcomed the sweet April breeze that crossed her path, sending a smile to her done-up face. She was more than ecstatic to get home, she had so many new clothes to try on.
Her pace didn’t slow nor did her strut falter as citizens around her perked up at her appearance. If her beautiful face wasn’t recognizable enough to the public, then the Sparrow Academy uniform definitely was.
Each of the eight wore their uniforms in their own style. Jayme and Fei preferred pants to the normally required skirt, but Sloane and (Y/N) kept to their skirts, though (Y/N)’s was shorter than her sister’s. She could never stand the suit jackets, so she took to wearing a cropped one instead. She wouldn’t be caught dead in that horrible blue sweater, either, so she opted for a white button-up.
Anyone who knew her, and everyone knew who she was, knew that (Y/N)’s appearance mattered more than anything to her. If she wasn’t turning heads and dropping jaws, then she might as well not have woken up for the day. Crime-fighting was only a “side gig”, as she’d call it. Shopping wasn’t a hobby and it definitely was not a waste of time. She was doing society a favor by fretting over her hair and applying lip gloss and adjusting her clothing. She had to have their attention. She just had to.
“(Y/N)!”
Several shouts and cheers came from all sides as civilians ran up to her, holding out papers and books and arms for her to sign, each person providing a pen or marker for her to write with. (Y/N) kept her smile wide and her gaze forward as she continued to walk, collecting more and more fans as she went.
“We love you, (Y/N)!”
“Can I have your autograph?”
“(Y/N), you look amazing today!”
“Please, can you sign my poster?”
She sped up her pace and shifted the bags in her hands. “Sorry, angels. I can’t give any autographs out today.” She rounded a corner, sending the crowd of people a half grin over her shoulder. “My hands are full.”
Upon entering the mansion she called home, (Y/N) was immediately bombarded with the blaring of the alarm that sounded throughout the house. Irritably huffing, she sang out a three-note tune, summoning an exact clone of herself from her shadow. It blankly stood before her, awaiting an order.
“Here,” She stretched her arms out to the clone. “Take these bags to my room. That will be all.”
Without a word, the clone retrieved the shopping bags and mechanically turned away, walking towards the staircase that led to the bedrooms. (Y/N) turned to a nearby mirror and adjusted her hair and clothes before peeking into the parlor. The sight within was the last thing she would have ever expected.
Seven figures stood in the room, staring up at the balcony. They were all dressed in black, aside from the young boy who was in a uniform much similar to theirs, only his was blue rather than red. From the looks of their dirtied and bloodied faces, they had fought their way to get here, and (Y/N) wasn’t sure if she liked that.
Her breath hitched when her eyes zeroed on the other young figure in the room. Those (e/c) eyes, that (h/c) hair, that nose… it was hers. It was all her, except the girl lacked the age in her features, her adorable scarred face untouched by seventeen years. (Y/N) wasn’t planning on meeting her younger self, but today deemed itself to be less than normal than any other day.
Across the room from her, Ben entered, hands folded in front of him and a look of disgust and disapproval on his face. He stared at their visitors for a few short seconds before bellowing out,
“Dad, who the hell are these assholes?”
At the mention of her father, (Y/N) craned her neck to find Sir Reginald Hargreeves standing on the other side of the parlor, watching the entire scene unfold. Heart hammering in her chest, she let a grin lazily stretch across her face as she elegantly stepped into the room.
“And would you look at that?” She made her way over to Ben, her eyes never leaving her preteen counterpart even as she leaned against her brother’s shoulder. “One of these assholes looks… very familiar.”
The strangers widened their eyes at her as she mockingly raised a brow at herself, tapping her bracelet-clad wrist against Ben’s arm. In unison, the seven breathed out,
“Shit.”
Klaus smiled in disbelief. “Ben.” He whispered, gaining said male’s attention. Luther slowly walked closer to the two siblings with narrowed eyes.
“Is that really you?”
Ben didn’t answer them, but he did shrug his sister off of his shoulder.
“And who are the weirdos on the balcony?!” Diego shouted up at the six figures staring down at them in confusion.
“They are the Sparrows,” Reginald answered. “My children.”
A sudden rumbling shook the tables in the parlor, some of the artifacts rattling with it, but no one had noticed. Everyone was too stunned to notice anything other than each other. The fifteen Hargreeves all glared each other down, the Sparrows more defensive than their counterparts. Five narrowed his eyes and turned around to face his father.
“I’m sorry. What do you mean, your children? That’s not possible, old man.”
“Of course, it is! I think I’d know, wouldn’t I?”
The Sparrows on the balcony silently made their way into the parlor, grouping with their siblings to have a stand-off with the intruders in their home. Klaus grinned and pointed at Ben.
“Everyone else can see Ben, right?”
“Cute hat, Sundance.” Ben quipped. Klaus tipped his hat in appreciation, but his smile faltered when Ben rolled his eyes at him, not the response he was hoping for.
“They call themselves the Umbrella Academy,” Reginald announced. “A group of scheming, perfidious malcontents who accosted me in the fall of 1963 when I was away on business in Dallas. Be warned, they claim to be my spawn.”
Allison stepped closer to him. “‘Claim’?” She scoffed in disbelief before turning to her brother. “Look, Five, what the hell is going on?”
“I don’t know yet, but it’s concerning.”
(Y/N) glared at her adult self, who was glaring right back in amusement. “And why… is there another me?”
The Sparrow Number Eight laughed out loud and crossed her arms over her chest, choosing not to respond.
Marcus waved his hand toward Reginald. “Is he telling the truth?”
Only (Y/N) noticed how Reginald shrunk back a bit.
“Not the part about us being perfidious.” Vanya shook her head.
“No,” Klaus added. “We’re amateur-fidious, at best.”
“But we are his children. This is our house.”
Luther nodded. “Yeah, yeah. We, uh… We grew up here.”
“‘Yeah, we grew up here’!” Alphonso mocked, causing his siblings to snicker quietly.
“I kind of think we would have noticed you.” Sloane remarked. Luther blinked, smiling and holding a hand out in greeting.
“Hi. I’m Luther.”
Sloane nervously looked away.
“Okay. None of you belong here.” Allison snapped.
“Oh!” Fei sarcastically gasped. “Well, then. I guess we’ll just pack our bags and move out.”
The Umbrella Academy watched as the floating cube beside Fei lit up green, then blue, then purple, then yellow and so on as a garbled voice seemed to speak to them. The Sparrows all chuckled at the words of the cube and shook their heads.
“You slay me, Chris.” Ben smirked.
Everyone’s attention turned to Grace, who entered the room with a plate of cookies in her hands. “I wasn’t expecting company,” She sighed. “This is the best I could do on short-- short… short notice.” Her voice distorted to a robotic one as she malfunctioned for a moment, returning to her usual smile when she composed herself.
“Mom…” Diego whispered in awe, putting his knife away.
“Mom?” Jayme blinked. “She’s a robot, you perv.”
“It’s not a robot.”
“Hey, don’t you call him that!” Luther defended his brother.
“Or what?” Ben challenged.
“Come closer and find out!”
“Think I’m afraid?”
“Luther!” Vanya tried to ease the stirring commotion. “Guys, chill!”
The room erupted with overlapping voices as each Hargreeves shouted insults and threats toward each other. The only people trying to calm the situation were Marcus and Vanya.
“Enough!” Marcus shouted just as Jayme shot some sort of black substance from her mouth and onto Diego’s cheek. No one noticed, but he certainly did, reaching up to his face only to feel that nothing was there. “I don’t know what circus you escaped from or how you got past our security, but we’re done here. You got thirty seconds to get out of our house.”
Allison crossed her arms. “And if we don’t?”
“Then we’ll have to settle this the old-fashioned way.”
(Y/N) side-eyed Diego, who was harshly wiping at his face with a petrified look.
“Look, we just fought a literal army, okay?” Vanya started. “This doesn’t need to get ugly. Let’s all just calm down, and let’s talk.”
Sparrow (Y/N) lightly chuckled and placed her hands on her hips. “Yeah? And what are you knockoffs planning on talking about-”
“Shut up, (Y/N)!”
At the command of her siblings, she closed her mouth and flitted her eyes away defeatedly. This raised some suspicion in the Umbrella Academy. Ignoring what had just occurred, Klaus turned to Ben with a smile.
“Psst. Benerino,” He called out, earning Ben’s peeved attention. “You look so much better alive than you do dead. Am I right? Except that haircut.”
“What the hell did you just say?!”
“Come on, come on,” Klaus waved him off and approached closer. “Stop with all the hostility, Mr Grumpy Pants. Oh, wow… Nice scar. Muy macho.”
Sparrow (Y/N) stiffened at that as Ben’s anger burned brighter.
“Shut your mouth!”
“You shut your mouth and just hug your brother-”
Klaus stumbled back when Ben landed a punch across his jaw. He tried to catch himself from falling, but he ended up rolling across the table and thumping to the ground.
“Hey! What the hell?!” Luther marched right up to Ben. “You didn’t have to do that!”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I did!”
“That’s right, he did.” Alphonso agreed before everyone’s voices rose over each other once again. Marcus took it upon himself to push Luther away from Ben.
Now provoked, Luther took a swing at him, but Marcus quickly ducked, rising back up and kicking Luther in the chest, sending him flying back.
“Oh, shit!” Klaus exclaimed before getting a face full of Luther, the two falling into the couch behind them and tipping it over. Reginald watched them for only a moment before striding out of the room.
With that, Sparrows and Umbrellas dispersed throughout the house to settle their differences. Marcus jumped over the fallen couch and kicked Luther in the face. He went in for another blow, but Luther blocked his arm and sent a punch into his gut, then to his face. Before they could continue, Klaus painfully stood to his feet, holding up peace signs with his fingers as he slipped past the two.
“Alright. Peace and love, peace and love. Here I come. Damn it…” He groaned. Once he was out of their way, they resumed their One-on-One. On the other side of the couch, Diego was squaring up with Christopher, knives at the ready.
“Come at me, litter box!” He shouted at the floating red cube. His posture immediately straightened at what Christopher garbled out to him. “Hey! Listen, I have amazing hair, alright? This was era-appropriate!”
In response, Christopher sent out a blast of red, Diego groaning out in pain at the continuous attack. “That’s all you got?” He choked out.
By the bar, Five and Ben were throwing punches and expertly dodging each other. It wasn’t until Ben had him in a chokehold that Five used his power and blinked away, reappearing a couple feet away.
“You’re alive,” Five stumbled. “That’s… great. Or possibly horrible. I’m not really sure yet.”
“Is that some kind of weird smack talk?”
“It’s more of an existential problem, really, Ben.”
“Awesome. Well, here’s your next problem.”
Ben released a tentacle from his chest, but Five blinked away from it before it could reach him. Ben stared at the now empty spot in confusion as the tentacle returned to his body. At the sound of a whoosh, he whipped around to find Five now on the balcony.
“You know, even though you’re a total asshat now…” He blinked away from Ben’s tentacles and appeared behind him. Just as he turned around, Five punched him across the face, sending him to the ground. “...it’s nice to see you again, really.”
Outside the parlor, in the grand entryway, Vanya was desperately dodging all of Jayme’s attacks. “I don’t wanna fight you!” She dodged a kick.
“Awe. Did you wanna be best friends?” Jayme deadpanned before kicking Vanya to the ground. A crow passed her unconscious figure and flew close to Fei and Allison. She spun away from the staff that Fei was fighting with and smirked at her.
“You know, for a blind person, you’re not bad.”
“Who says I’m blind, asshole?”
The same crow flew above them, acting as Fei’s eyes and allowing her to watch the fight from a bird’s eye view. Keeping up with her was becoming increasingly difficult for Allison, barely missing the staff that threatened to possibly knock her out. From the side, Sloane glanced at Jayme and Alphonso worriedly.
“Should I step in and help?”
“Nah. She’s making a point.” Alphonso stretched a bag of popcorn towards her, to which she declined. His attention was directed to the fight occurring near the door.
(Y/N) ran up to her adult self and kicked herself off the wall, landing a harsh kick to Sparrow (Y/N)’s face. She cried out and fell to the ground. From the middle of the entryway, she could hear snickering. She looked over her shoulder to find her siblings finding the situation very amusing. Sparrow (Y/N) rolled her eyes and turned back around, finding her child self gone.
“The hell?”
She was sent to the ground when Umbrella (Y/N) seemingly came from nowhere and kicked her down. Sparrow (Y/N) rolled onto her back and stared up at the child in annoyance. “Okay, screw this…”
Umbrella (Y/N) watched in horror as her adult self placed her hands on the ground where her shadow was and slowly lifted them, a clone on each hand rising from the ground like a puppeteer lifting their puppet by its strings. When the three of them stood to their feet, Sparrow (Y/N) undid the stylish chain around her waist. She placed the chain between both her hands before duplicating it, one in each hand.
“Oh, what the hell?” Umbrella (Y/N) stepped back.
Sparrow (Y/N) frowned in genuine confusion. “You can’t do this?”
“O-Of course, I can! I just… didn’t think… you could…”
Awkwardly clearing her throat, Umbrella (Y/N) sang a drawn out version of her three-note tune, summoning four clones from her shadow. “Kill her clones.” She demanded, smirking at her adult self as the clones did as they were told. “It’s just gonna be you and me.”
Jayme tapped Sloane’s shoulder when she noticed Vanya standing up from the ground. Sloane calmly approached as Vanya glared at her. “My turn.”
It seemed Sloane wasn’t interested at all in the glowing energy Vanya emitted. Instead of cowering back, Sloane held out her hand, lifting Vanya into the air. With no one to send the blast of energy to, Vanya was forced to attack herself, flying back into the wall of portraits, crashing to the ground with the frames landing on her.
“Art snob, huh?” Sloane called out. She hardly paid attention to Christopher hurriedly floating past her with Diego behind him, uselessly chucking his knives toward the cube. Still munching on his popcorn, Alphonso watched as Allison struggled to dodge Fei’s attacks. Finally finding an opening, Allison grabbed the staff and pulled Fei against the table.
“By the way, I heard a rumor you can’t move.”
Alphonso chucked his popcorn to the side when he watched Fei freeze in place, casually walking up to Allison. “Hit me.”
“What?”
“Come on. Hit me in the face.”
“Okay.”
“Hit me!”
Allison spun into attack, landing a punch to the blob of a face. However, Alphonso didn’t even flinch due to the punch being sent right back to Allison without touching her, a sickening crack sounding from her nose. She watched him in horror and disbelief as she fell to the ground, blood gushing from her nose.
Opponent down, Alphonso approached her closer and lifted his foot, but when he rammed his foot down, there was a flash of Five and the two siblings were gone with a whoosh. Alphonso let his foot land and turned to his now moving sister.
“Fast little guy… Oh, for crying out loud, (Y/N)!”
Sparrow (Y/N) huffed out at her brother’s words as her younger self dodged the chain she swung at her. As Fei exited the room, Jayme joined Alphonso’s side to watch. (Y/N) swiped her chain to Umbrella (Y/N), but she jumped out of the way.
“The chain? Really?” Jayme sighed.
“Stop being lazy and use your damn fists.” Alphonso added.
Sparrow (Y/N) whirled towards them. “Shut up! I’m trying to focus- Aah!” She cried out when her teen counterpart used the other chain she had somehow acquired and slashed her in the legs with it, sending her to her knees. “Fuck! You little shit!”
“If you’re gonna be dramatic and use a weapon, (Y/N), maybe actually hit her with it.” Jayme deadpanned once again. “This is hard to watch.”
“I wanna look away.”
“Let’s look away.”
“Oh, but how can you? It’s like a car crash, you can’t just look away from these horrible things.”
Sloane gently shushed Jayme and Alphonso when she saw her sister becoming visibly upset at the bullying she was receiving. “Guys, let’s be encouraging to (Y/N).”
“What are you talking about?”
“This is encouraging. You want her to become an even shittier fighter?”
Sloane shook her head at them. “She’s just as good as the rest of us. You’ve got this, sis! Watch out on your left!”
Sparrow (Y/N) dodged right, narrowly missing the chain Umbrella (Y/N) whipped her way. She grabbed hold of it and ripped it from her grasp. “You don’t need that, cutiepie.”
“Cut the chit chat. You don’t get to do that yet.” Alphonso and Jayme started up their heckling once again. “Your swings are too weak.”
“Aim higher, dumbass.”
“That move again?”
“You’re telling me you can’t fight a miniature version of yourself?”
“Fuckin’ idiot.”
Sparrow (Y/N) growled loudly. “SHUT UP!” She hollered and struck her opponent in the face with the chain, causing the young girl to cry out and fall to the ground. She turned to her siblings in a rage. “I know what I’m doing!”
“Whatever.” Jayme rolled her eyes and walked away. With a quickness, she found herself upstairs, rounding the balcony to see Five and Allison. “Hey, short pants. What’s up?”
“Go help the others,” Five quietly told Allison. “I’ll handle this one.”
“Okay.” She whispered and took off in the opposite direction. Jayme watched her go with a smirk.
“What are you, their mascot?”
Five gave a sarcastic smile before blinking away and blinking again behind her, punching her when she turned around. Jayme groaned in pain as she crashed to the ground.
“More like their ringer.”
With a hiss, she sent the black substance from earlier through her teeth and onto Five’s forehead. He reared back in disgust and felt his head. “Ugh! Hey, gross, alright?” And as the substance sunk its way into his skin, the world around him blurred. “The hell…?”
From the top of the staircase, a figure emerged. A figure he had not seen for the past twenty days. A one-armed figure he spent over thirty years with and who he thought he left what felt like so long ago. “Delores?” He stepped closer. “Delores…?”
“Amore mio, mi sei mancato un sacco.” She gently spoke with a smile just as gentle on her plastic face.
“Mi sei mancato anche tu,” He replied, moving towards her. In a daze, he watched as the mannequin before him morphed into a beautiful woman, the woman he had always imagined her to be. “...più di quanto possiate immaginare… Vieni da me.”
Five stepped in front of her, the two smiling warmly at each other before he brought her into a hug, burying his face into her blonde tresses. His heart tightened when he felt her arms pull him closer to her. This moment was the moment he wished he had with her when he returned her to that department store. A proper goodbye without anything left unsaid. He had always regretted not hugging her that day.
On the side, Jayme watched as Five hugged the empty air before him, nuzzling his face into nothing. She shook her head in disbelief. “Ugh… Are they all perverts?”  She muttered before going up to Five and kicking him down the stairs, snapping him out of his hallucination. Five managed to smack his head on one of the steps as he stumbled down into the entryway, leaving a gash in the side of his forehead.
“Seriously, (Y/N)?”
Five painfully lifted his head up to see Jayme standing before both of the (Y/N)s on the ground. His Starlight was currently holding a chain around her Sparrow self’s throat, the woman kicking her legs and clawing at the girl’s hands. She stared up at her sister with eyes swimming in desperation, but Jayme only shook her head at her.
“Hey,” Umbrella (Y/N) whispered into her opponent’s ear. “I know this might be a weird time to ask, but-” She moved away from Sparrow (Y/N)’s hand that threatened to strike her. “...um, do you know an Anthony Petrov?”
“A what?” She hissed against the chain.
“Golden tan skin, hazel eyes, dark hair, goatee, super sexy? Ever met him?”
“Is he apart of your idiot Academy? Because I’ll beat the shit out of him, too.”
(Y/N) tightened the chain on her adult self, releasing a strangled gasp. “Oh, is that what you’re doing? Beating the shit out of me?”
“You little… bitch!”
Jayme, having enough of the interaction, shifted her jaw before spitting out her poison. (Y/N) saw this through the spots in half her vision and used the chain to move her adult self to act like a shield, letting her take the substance instead. Sparrow (Y/N) quickly felt her face as she was set free from the chain, taking in greedy gulps of air.
“Oh, shit… Shit!” She panickedly gasped. “Jayme, do something!”
Jayme rolled her eyes and went to attack the young girl, but there was a flash and Five was at her side. She barely had any time to realize what was going on before the two of them blinked away. When they reappeared, they were in one of the hallways. (Y//N) sighed out and leaned against the wall, holding the side of her head in pain. Five gently placed a hand over hers.
“You okay?”
She groaned and blinked rapidly, one of her eyes half-bruised. “My eye hurts like a bitch… She got me good.”
“Probably doesn’t help that the paradox psychosis is kicking your ass, as well.”
(Y/N) froze and thought for a moment. She hadn’t been feeling itchy at all. She wasn’t gassy and the only sweat on her was due to her constantly fighting for her life. She slowly shook her head and looked up at Five with wide eyes. “I-I don’t think I have it…”
He tilted his head with furrowed brows. “Say that again?”
“I don't have any signs of paradox psychosis. I-I never did. I’ve felt completely normal since we got here… aside from total exhaustion and irritability…”
“That doesn’t make sense. That isn’t possible. She’s you.”
“I know.”
“Maybe you’re still in the first stage…”
“Denial?”
“Don’t take offense to it, Starlight, it’s natural-”
Allison suddenly rounded the corner to the hallway, breathing heavily. “We gotta go! We gotta go now!” She sprinted past them, grabbing (Y/N)’s hand as she went. Five quickly followed.
“What?! What is it?!” He risked a glance over his shoulder to find Fei calmly standing at the end of the hallway. (Y/N) widened her eyes and sped up.
“Oh, shit, that’s the scary one!”
The three turned down another hallway to make their escape. In the middle of the hall, Luther was knelt in front of Sloane, who was sitting against the wall. He must have been in the middle of a fight with her, they thought.
“Luther, we’re leaving!” Five jumped over his back, followed by (Y/N). Allison stopped to help him to his feet, which Luther oddly seemed reluctant to do.
“Wait a second-”
“Come on! We gotta go! We gotta go!”
The four of them reached the end of the hallway and yet again risked a glance behind them. Fei was still calmly moving down the hall, but she arched her back and threw her head back as a murder of crows were summoned from behind her. Their threatening squawks blended together as they all flew straight for the Umbrella siblings.
“Seriously?” Luther gaped in disbelief.
Without hesitation, Five grabbed his love by the hand and quickly pulled her away. Luther did the same with Allison as she urged them all to move faster. The doors and paintings and wallpaper were all a blur to (Y/N) as she practically flew down the halls, Five’s grip on her hand never loosening. The mantra of the crow’s caws grew the closer they got to them. At the end of the hall was a door and they headed straight for it before Five began to slow down as the realization smacked into him.
“The briefcase!”
“What?”
“No time-”
Allison was cut off as Five and (Y/N) disappeared away again. When they appeared outside the parlor, Five immediately set his sights on the table they had resurfaced the timeline to. “Where’s the briefcase?” He breathed out. (Y/N) helped him look around for their missing mode of transportation. “Shit, it’s gone!”
(Y/N) hesitated when she noticed that the Sparrow version of her was laying on the ground, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes and whispering to herself. Jayme hadn’t even bothered to wake her sister up from the spell she had put her under. But (Y/N) didn’t have the time nor the nerve to think about it any further and returned to the task at hand.
“One of them must’ve taken it,” She sighed before the sound of groaning could be heard from the parlor. The two of them hurried towards Vanya, who was being surrounded by Sloane, Fei, Alphonso, Ben, Christopher and Jayme. “Vanya!”
“Vanya, get out of there!” Five shouted, but the two teens began to back away when Vanya’s power activated with a bright glow. Five wasted no time and grabbed (Y/N), blinking them out of the house to avoid the destruction their sister would no doubt cause.
The enlarging glow from Vanya’s chest shone brighter and brighter until she released it, sending the Sparrows back with her blast. The six of them crashed into walls and glass and furniture before the light went away and Vanya fell back onto the broken table Sloane had thrown her into earlier.
Vanya groaned and whimpered as she rolled on her side, trying to calm the spinning of her head as the Sparrows struggled to stand to their feet. From above, Marcus slowly approached the railing of the balcony, silently observing the scene. After a few seconds, he decided to voice himself. “It’s over. Go. Don’t come back.”
Vanya whimpered and rolled off the table, holding her side as she stood to her feet and stumbled out of the parlor, past the still mumbling Sparrow (Y/N), and through the door with pained grunts. Everyone watched her go as they tried to catch their breath. Marcus flickered his eyes down and exhaled deeply, shoulders shaking slightly.
Alphonso huffed and walked into the entryway, grabbing his dazed sister by her blazer and lifting her up. He shook her a bit with a glare. “Come on. Snap out of it.”
“Oblivion…” She mumbled.
“Jayme, take care of this.”
Jayme entered the room and smacked her sister across the face, (Y/N) blinking rapidly and whipping her head all around. She moved out of her brother’s grasp and whirled on Jayme with wild eyes. “What the hell?!”
“You shouldn’t have gotten in my way.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?!”
“Because I was actually taking care of shit,” Jayme leaned closer. “Nothing is about you anymore, Number Eight. So, stop acting like it.”
With that, she exited the room, Alphonso following and shoving into (Y/N) as he went. She caught herself from falling and watched her siblings go with a deadly glare.
-------------------------------------------------
“Can you see anything?”
Five held his love’s face in one hand, shielding her eyes from the sun with the other. After the fight at the mansion, the siblings regrouped at a sitting area in the middle of a park. Allison and Luther sat together on one bench, Diego went to stand near the pond, Klaus stretched across one of the picnic tables and Five sat (Y/N) at the other to check on her wounds. At his question, she sighed and moved her eyes about.
“Still a little blurry…”
“Yeah?”
“Mmhm.”
“How are you feeling? Itchy? Sweaty? Gassy?”
She softly chuckled and shook her head. “No, I never was. Don’t worry, Five, I don’t have any homicidal rage. Just the normal kind of rage.”
Five gave her a small smile as Diego turned to face his siblings.
“That didn’t go well.”
“No, not our best work.” Five turned to his brother before sitting down beside (Y/N). On the other table, Klaus was sighing out in pleasure as he twisted the lower half of his body, his joints sickly cracking. Allison looked to Luther, who was staring into thin air.
“You alright?”
“I don’t know yet,” He shook his head. “I’ve just never had my ass handed to me like that before. It’s like…” He cupped his hands and held them out to Allison. “Here you go. It’s your ass.”
Allison stared at him and waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t, she placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled at her siblings. “Okay, I think Luther’s concussed.”
“Luther, how many fingers?” Klaus raised up three of his fingers. Suddenly, Luther widened his eyes.
“Oh, my god… Vanya.”
Before he could panic further about his sister’s whereabouts, Allison pointed in the direction Vanya was now coming from. “Oh,” She groaned, holding her lower back in pain. “Thank god, you’re alive.”
“Apparently, so is Ben.” Klaus huffed.
“Yeah. And he’s a complete dickhead.” Allison shook her head.
“They’re all dickheads.” Diego agreed.
“Yeah, dickheads who can fight.” Luther pointed out as Vanya took a seat on the other bench.
Five rolled his eyes. “Okay, next person to say ‘dickhead’ is getting a punch to the throat.”
“Dickhead.”
“Dickhead.”
“Dickhead.”
“Dickhead.”
“Dickhead…” (Y/N) muttered from beside him, staring down at her knees. Five turned to her and shook his head as Diego looked to Klaus.
“Hey, did Dad tell you why he was calling them his kids?”
“He sure did! You ready?” Klaus sarcastically laughed. “Dad was so repulsed by us back in Texas, that he adopted an entirely different group of children just so that he didn’t have to raise us.”
“Well, that’s just peak Dad, huh?”
“Isn’t it?” Luther agreed.
“So, he just didn’t want us anymore?” Vanya wondered.
“Did he ever?” Allison shrugged.
“Well, he clearly wanted (Y/N).” Diego gestured to his sister. She sighed and rubbed at her face.
“Yeah, probably to ruin my childhood again. She must’ve gone through worse if she turned out to be a total bitch.”
Five leaned back against the table. “You have a point, Starlight, but I think you’re missing the bigger picture. If Dad didn’t adopt us as kids, he changed the timeline. He probably did do worse to her, but who knows what else is different now.”
“Shouldn’t you know?” Allison pointed to him.
“Sorry, Allison, but it might take me more than twenty minutes and a traumatic brain injury to figure this all out. Is that okay with you?”
“No, actually, it’s not.”
“Guys, look, it’s fine,” Vanya cut in as mediator again. “We still have the Commission’s briefcase, so worst case, we can just go back in time and fix it.”
“Great.” Klaus snapped his fingers as Five stood to his feet to stand before his family.
“Okay. There are two problems with that statement. First off-”
“Here we go.”
“Time travel is a complicated thing, people.”
Five was cut off by Diego as his siblings rolled their eyes in annoyance. “Yeah, we get it. Your job is so hard. Just… what?”
“And secondly,” He looked at them in slight embarrassment. “I no longer have the briefcase.”
Allison slowly rose from the bench. “Five… where the hell is the briefcase?”
-------------------------------------------------
Elsewhere, in a small house in the middle of the woods, an old man was hurriedly packing a suitcase. He neatly and quickly put in some of his belongings before shoving some clothes in above them. Just as he situated the cover over his clothes, a high frequency ringing sounded in his ears. He stared down at his shaking hands with twitching lips. He clenched his teeth roughly and clapped his hands once, the ringing abruptly stopping.
With a puff of air, he neatly packed six bagged sandwiches labeled by number atop the covering. Once everything was settled, he closed and latched the suitcase with a name labeled on it.
Lester Pocket.
-------------------------------------------------
Back at the park, the Umbrella siblings had been strolling the pathway for the past few minutes, the group led by Five, who had one hand stuffed into his pocket and the other holding (Y/N)’s hand. The group tried to ignore the looks of distaste and bewilderment they received from citizens who passed by. It was no question why, the group was darkly dressed and decorated in blood, cuts and bruises.
“What are we doing?” Allison finally asked from (Y/N)’s other side.
“Ruminating.” Five hummed.
“Why is everyone staring at us?” Klaus asked.
“Because we look like the damn Village People just lost a fight.” Diego swiped the cowboy hat off his brother’s head, causing a bit of a scuffle between the two of them. (Y/N) stepped closer to Five as the fight neared her.
Allison moved away from her brothers. “Okay, you know what? I need to go find Claire. I will catch up with you guys later.”
As she began to take off, Vanya hurried after her. “Hey, Allison, no. First, let’s get somewhere safe, clean up those cuts, and then we’ll go find her and (Y/N)’s kids.”
“Don’t bother…” (Y/N) whispered too quietly for anyone to hear her.
“Man, I hate those guys.”
Everyone turned to the billboards in the distance of the Sparrow Academy. One billboard was a picture of the superhero team together and the other was one of Marcus and Ben that read,
CRIME IS THE PROBLEM. WE ARE THE SOLUTION.
“Look at ‘em with their… stupid smug…”
“You can do it.” Klaus whispered beside him “You can do it.”
“...s… s… smug… smugness.”
“Keep working on it, big guy. You’ll land one, eventually.”
Allison turned to her family. “But honestly, what are we doing? Because we can’t keep bleeding out in the middle of this park.”
“I don’t know, but we better gear up fast before they come for round two, alright?” Diego spoke.
“And by ‘gear up’, I hope you mean a nap.” (Y/N) raised her brows.
“What makes you think they’re gonna come after us?” Vanya asked.
Diego looked at her. “Because I would.”
Klaus nodded. “Yeah, I mean, we did break into their house-”
“Our house-”
“...and bust up all their nice antiques and shit.”
Luther glared up at the billboards again. “Yeah. I don’t think the crime-fighting super nerds are gonna let that go.”
“Let’s just think of some place off the radar where we can lie low and not draw attention.” Five suggested. Diego tiredly raised his brows at him.
“What kind of a weird-ass place are we not gonna draw attention?”
It took a second, but everyone slowly turned to Klaus, who was spinning in circles to occupy his short attention span. If anyone knew of a place where no one would raise any questions about odd characters, it was Klaus. When he felt eyes on him, he stopped spinning and stared at his siblings with furrowed brows. They were waiting on an answer from him, so he tried to think of the last thing he heard of the conversation.
A place of shelter, just as peculiar as them (if not more), that would take them in.
He knew just the place.
—————————————
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Many of Robespierre's contemporaries gave their own description of him, but the most strange description I've found is Stanislas Fréron's description of him as being full of jealousy..? And I'm lost on this point ..you know any descriptions that is at least closer to the real Robespierre even a lil bit..?
And thanks a lot.
That’s one of those tricky questions, because I don’t know who the ”real” Robespierre was, nor does anyone else who lives today, seeing as we’ve never met him. And making it even harder is the fact that those who did meet and leave a description of him often, 1, wrote it down decades after the fact, 2, already had a strong opinion for or against Robespierre that they sought to confirm, and 3, only saw one side of him (as most people act differently depending on if they’re with family, their friends, at work etc)
That Fréron’s description gets questioned by people today is not because we have a better idea of who the ”real” Robespierre was, but because we know Fréron wrote it right after Robespierre’s execution, with the intention to discredit him as much as possible. That doesn’t mean that his claim that Robespierre was extremely jealous must be false, but within the context in which it’s placed it gets very hard, if not impossible, to separate fact from slander. The same thing can be said for almost every description we have from Robespierre’s contemporaries. Even those left by people close to him (the best examples we have of this are the memoirs of his sister Charlotte and his host’s daughter Élisabeth Lebas) suffer from this issue, albeit in the other direction. They were written with the clear intention of rehabilitating his memory, meaning they would avoid mentioning anything negative about his personality.
So I don’t think there exists a description that alone can tell us who the ”real Robespierre” was. However, looking over the descriptions that we do have about his personality, we can still underline a few traits brought up by more than one contemporary, and in such a way try getting closer to who Robespierre was as a person (even though this will still be very inexact, given the reasons I mentioned in the beginning) Below is what I’ve gathered so far:
According to Robespierre’s sister Charlotte (bias towards Robespierre), sub-principal Abbé Proyart and fellow students Fréron and Beffroy de Reigny (hostile towards Robespierre) the young Maximilien was introverted and voluntarily spent time alone. Charlotte writes ”He rarely shared the games and pleasures of his comrades; he liked to be alone to think at his ease, and passed entire hours reflecting” while Fréron, Proyart, and Beffroy all distinctely remember Robespierre going for solitary walks during the recreations while other students would play. The latter two go so far as to say he had no friends at school at all, though this may be more of a hostile exaggeration (and interestingly, both still cite Desmoulins as having been Robespierre’s ”college comrade”).
Again according to the latter four, as well as Robespierre’s teacher Abbé Desprez (neutral towards Robespierre), Robespierre was a hard worker as a student, completely invested in his studies. Charlotte also describes how this attitude stayed during his life as a lawyer, Maximilien would rise at six or seven in the morning, and work until eight, when his barber then came to fix his wig. Then he took a light meal and went back to work until ten, when he dressed and went to the courts. After the assembly he had dinner; after which he went out for an hour’s walk or to make a visit. He then withdrew anew into his study until seven or eight; and passed the rest of the evening either with friends or among his family. A (neutral) German who sought out information about Robespierre while he was on the CPS and published his account in May 1794, described a very similar routine: ”He rises very early… Then he does a few hours’ work, without taking anything but a glass of water…. Meanwhile, he reads the gazette or pamphlets of the day and takes his lunch, which consists of a little wine, bread and a few pieces of fruit…. He dines at his host’s table, and it is always he who says grace before the meal…. After the meal, he has coffee served to him, stays home for an hour waiting for visits, then, normally, he goes out…. He comes home extraordinarily late; he often works till nearly midnight at the Committee of Public Safety.
Like you already said, Fréron, as well as Abbé Proyart and Beffroy du Reigny, all accuse Robespierre of having been jealous of students with better grades than him (or even, according to Proyart, ”children who were better than him” in general) when young.
According to Charlotte and Rosalie Jullien (both friendly), Robespierre was a bit absent-minded. Charlotte writes that he once left her in the middle of the road and walked straight home, surprisingly asking Charlotte where she had been when she too arrived. She and her aunts often reproached him for being distracted and preoccupied in their gatherings and that he would go sit in a corner and give himself up to reflections while the other played cards or spoke of only insignificant things. Robespierre’s doctor or Joseph Souberbielle him too claimed that Robespierre disliked loose conversation. Rosalie Jullien, who had dinner with the Robespierre siblings in early 1793, similarily wrote: ”[Maximilien] is abstracted, like a thinker; dry, like a man of affairs; […] as gloomy as the English poet, Young. I see that he lacks our tenderness of feeling, but I like to think that he wishes well to the human race, more from justice than from affection….
According to people who met him in private, Robespierre was a kind person. According to Charlotte, her brother ”was universally loved. The sweetness of his character and the purity of his heart were known and everyone was anxious to count him among his friends.” She further claims that her aunts often told her: ”your brother is an angel, he has every moral virtue.” Élisabeth Lebas exclaimed in her memoirs ”[my family] loved him like a good brother! He was so nice! He was our defender when my mother scolded us. […] When I was a little unhappy, I told him everything. He was not a severe judge: he was a friend, a good brother indeed; he was so virtuous! He venerated my father and mother. We all loved him tenderly.” Robespierre’s doctor Joseph Souberbielle wrote that he cherised him like a brother and that, even fifty years later ”his memory remains green in my heart, and my affection for him is unimpaired.” After her dinner with Robespierre, Rosalie Jullien  wrote in a letter that he was ”gentle as a lamb” and a man named Lakanal, who had been on very friendly terms with Robespierre for several years prior to the Revolution, said that he was”a man full of good qualities, and gifted with the most gentle nature." Even Robespierre himself wrote to Pétion that ”I admit my sins; although others, more easily able to judge, say that I am as easy- going, as good-natured in private life as you find me touchy in public life.”
According to testimonies of Lucile Desmoulins, her mother, Souberbielle and Robespierre himself, Robespierre was fond of and good with children. He was also described as being fond of animals, in particular dogs and birds.
People who worked together with Robespierre describe a less pleasing personality. According to Pétion (who was close to Robespierre before falling out with him) the public Robespierre was ”very touchy and mistrustful; he sees plots, treachery, precipices everywhere. His bilious temperament ... never forgiving anyone who has wounded his pride, and never recognizing his misdeeds...”, a description that even modern Robespierre biographers (like Linton (2014) and Leuwers (2014) have admitted is pretty spot on. Barère, while on his deathbed, similarily admitted that ”[Robespierre’s] vanity, irascible sensitivity and unjust mistrust of his colleagues brought him down.”
According to Charlotte, her brother ”was chaste and sober,” he ate little and drank only watered wine; and showed no preference for any particular foods besides fruit, and the only thing he could not do without was a cup of coffee. A similar descriptions of his diet is lifted by the German journalist cited above. Fréron also highlights Robespierre’s liking of fruit (and specifically oranges) and writes that he had only drunk water his last months alive (though he also interestingly claims this was in order to hide his alcoholism).
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rozieramati · 4 months
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12/17/23
every moment is a love story. i've been rotting in bed all day. trying to make sense of my life, the characters i've met this past year. the characters i've let go this past year. i've never felt so detached from connection before. i can't tell if it's good or bad. i've just become privy to how things work, how people work, how things are never really to be taken personally, and yes there are inherently bad people but most of the time no one is completely bad or completely good. just human. while all of this is not news to anyone, including me, to really understand this at a core level is different. i can't bring myself to form close connections with most people. maybe i am but it's not in the way i used to. i've been treating life as if i have more time. more time to see how things unfold, time to live, time to experience. i've never done that before. i've never lived in the now.
i've, i've, I've.
everyone i felt strongly towards in one way or another has popped up this month. i had a crying fit about it saturday night. it was a long night. a night filled with both old and new characters. a night where my heart was both broken and full at the same time. what does this mean? what does any of this mean. stupid questions that stupid humans spend their whole life trying to answer.
i went out last night. i had a lovely time with someone i can't belong to. life is so funny that way. with me. every time. i watched "The Age of Adeline" half an hour ago and it moved me. she spent most of her life not being able to live it. i feel the same. i don't really know why though. i do and i don't.
music is meant to be my ticket to freedom. before music it was rowing, and before rowing it was synchronized swimming. both of those were stripped away from me due to injury. maybe that's why i'm so afraid of finishing my album. i'm scared the freedom that it might grant me will be taken from me somehow. every time i reached the end of almost accomplishing a dream of mine that's what has happened. i would've made national team that year for synchronized swimming, i got recruited into Berkeley that other year for rowing. it wasn't in my control, losing it all. that's why i'm so adamant on having my hand on everything with music. if i'm doing everything myself, with the promotion and videos and stuff, then i won't have to rely on anyone. and if i work alone i won't be hurt, no one can take these things away from me. it's been a long time. 7 years of practice and obsession. that's how long it was for synchronized swimming before i was kicked in the head and sentenced to 7 years of concussions. seven seems to love me. i broke a tall mirror at the ripe age of eight and was horrified the moment it happened. glass shards covered the tan carpet floor and my mind was infected with intrusive thoughts about the bad luck i'd endure over the coming seven years. i wasn't wrong, but i also didn't predict it to last beyond those seven years.
my life is great. i fell asleep around 1pm and had a dream about people congratulating me for my achievements. it felt good until i began to dream about every character i've had to face this month. then i felt alone. then i wanted to recoil more.
the truth is yes, i have become detached; detached from the new characters that is. i know how to keep my distance. but that doesn't excuse the old characters from impacting me. i guess i'm just going outside more. i guess that's why i'm running into them all. i don't know. it seems all too coincidental. like the universe wants to show me something. maybe it's just how far i've come! how much i've grown. what everything has aligned to, and how it all turned out so much differently than i could have ever expected. i suppose that's it. nothing is really predictable. i spent too many years worrying about the outcome. only for me to set myself up to be in a constant state of grave disappointment because i was too attached to what i thought was best. now i accept i do not know what's best for anyone other than myself in this moment. that's why i've been detached. i've recognized there is truly no anxiety to be had in wondering about other people, their intentions, their feelings, etc. people will do what people do, and they will unveil it with time. whether that be in two weeks, two months, or seven years is not my problem. my reaction is all the weight i need to carry.
i suppose i've found my freedom outside of my occupation. 24, the year of liberation.
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f1 · 8 months
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Jennie Gow: BBC Sport presenter says 'supportive' F1 paddock will help her return at Dutch Grand Prix
Jennie Gow (interviewing Mercedes boss Toto Wolff in 2016) has worked in Formula 1 for many years and is a well-known presenter in the paddock BBC Sport presenter Jennie Gow says the "supportive" Formula 1 atmosphere will help her as she returns to the paddock at the Dutch Grand Prix. Gow, 46, suffered a serious stroke in December and has been raising awareness for stroke sufferers as part of her recovery. She has not featured in the BBC's F1 radio coverage so far this season. "This weekend is just about taking each step as they come," Gow told BBC Radio 5 Live Drive. "If I can just be part of the weekend and contribute something, do a little bit of what I used to do, that would be amazing. "Everything is a challenge. There might be days when I'm just too tired. Fatigue is one of the things I'm really battling." Gow made her first appearance at an F1 race since her stroke at the British Grand Prix in July as a guest of the sport and interviewed seven-time world champion Lewis Hamilton for 5 Live. The race at Zandvoort will be her first in a work capacity as she takes a tentative approach towards returning to broadcasting, which she hopes will be "relatively soon". She will be supported by her husband, Jamie Coley, who works for Sky Sports, over the course of the weekend. "I don't know if it's hard for Jamie to see me back at work, but I think he knows I need to at least try and do it. See what I can do." "F1 is a very friendly place and one that I have lived in for the last 12 years. It's a supportive place, even though everyone is competitive and finding their own way. "There are still moments that my voice doesn't seem right to me, and obviously I have some gaps in my speech that I didn't have before. I'm constantly struggling in my head to find the next word. "But we've spent eight months working on this, for hours every day." Speaking to BBC Sport at Silverstone, Gow said she plans to shadow presenter Rosanna Tennant, who has filled the role of 5 Live pit-lane reporter this year. Gow announced last week on X (formerly Twitter) that she would be heading to the Dutch Grand Prix as the season returns after the summer break. She wrote: "My lovely therapists are supporting me and continue to remind me 'I'm a work in progress and not the finished article.' "I can't wait to be back on your radio. I've missed it so much." via BBC Sport - Formula 1 http://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/
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leporellian · 2 years
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Why I Chose Every Character That Went Into The Opera Playing Cards
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so! if you are unaware, one of my Products(TM) that i sell are whole opera-themed card decks. they are probably one of my favorite projects that i've worked on (and you can get them on my etsy). i realized that i never did actually go into the way i chose opera characters for each playing card here, which is silly bc honestly figuring that one out was the most difficult part of the process. i decided instead of focusing on specific operas, i'd focus on the cartomancy meaning behind every playing card. i looked at each one, figured out who they reminded me of, and then went from there; ground rules being every character only got one card and no opera could have more than 3 card representations in the deck.
i should note that cartomancy meanings vary by source to source so mine might not be fully 'accurate' to everyone. i should also note that while i find it a fun idea, i don't actually have any supernatural beliefs regarding cartomancy (or everything else) and took it as a literary analysis thing more than anything.
without further ado: every card meaning and character on it.
also i spent like 2 hours on this post so. Ha ha
THE SPADES (regarding challenges and overcoming them)
MEPHISTOPHELES, THE ACE OF SPADES: The Ace of Spades, traditionally the first card in the deck, stands for 'death' and endings. It can also stand for all sorts of other bad things; spite, misfortune... but the Ace of Spades isn't necessarily a 'bad' card. It can mean endings of anything, deaths of anything both literal and metaphorical.
AZUCENA, THE TWO OF SPADES: The Two of Spades can stand for deceit, change (particularly regarding identities from what I can tell), and difficult decisions. It can also suggest uncertainty and a removal, as if this change in identity wasn't planned but rather forced by circumstance.
COUNT ALMAVIVA, THE THREE OF SPADES: Infidelity, particularly in marriages. Poor communications, opportunity running dry, troubled relationships; the Three of Spades has it all in one unfortunate package.
VIOLETTA, THE FOUR OF SPADES: The Four of Spades is traditionally associated with illness; sometimes even just the lingering worry of it. However, it carries the dual meaning of broken promises: Either you will be able to fulfill a promise, or someone you love will break one for you.
SIEGFRIED AND FAFNER, THE FIVE OF SPADES: The Five of Spades stands as something of a 'starter' problem, a challenge you will rise against for now. You might have greater challenges in the future ahead of you, but for now you will find success against this first difficulty. Hooray!.....?
TOSCA, THE SIX OF SPADES: Improvements, positive change, purpose, rebellious upswing. The Six of Spades is never the answer to a conflict, and there's often the implication that problems will go on. But in the moment there is this little bit of revolution, this little commitment to making life a bit better.
EUGENE ONEGIN AND LENSKY, THE SEVEN OF SPADES: The Seven of Spades stands for bad advice, and worse decisions, often ones made on impulsive whims. It may also refer to a difficult situation with no clear winners. Either way, it also stands for the grief and loss that will arise because of itself.
SPARAFUCILE AND MADDALENA, THE EIGHT OF SPADES: The Eight of Spades stands for deceit and danger, particularly coming from what was once a promising financial/personal opportunity. It can also refer to plans going awry, or crossroads at work forcing you to make an important decision. Caution is advised, in any case.
LEPORELLO, THE NINE OF SPADES: Bad luck, accidents, anxiety. The Nine of Spades is sometimes a card of indecision, and sometimes a card of helplessness in the face of danger. It can also mean that the threat of loss is looming over your life- the loss of somebody close to you.
DON GIOVANNI, THE TEN OF SPADES: The Ten of Spades is a warning. Bad news and evil- often implied to be something untamable and fundamentally irrational- is on its way, and the best you can do is duck out of its way before it gets to you. Something wicked this way comes...
L'ENFANT (from ravel's 'l'enfant et les sortileges'), THE JACK OF SPADES: The Jack of Spades is the sign of a troublesome youth, wild and unkempt, who will cause problems almost unwittingly. However, this card isn't necessarily a warning of evil like the Ten of Spades; the Jack of Spades is an annoyance but not actively really malicious.
THE COUNTESS (from tchaikovsky's 'the queen of spades'), THE... QUEEN OF SPADES: Besides the fun name coincidence, the Queen of Spades stands for a dark-haired woman, commonly interpreted as a widow. She will offer you advice but it's up to you how to utilize it or even if you should utilize it at all.
BARON SCARPIA, THE KING OF SPADES: The King of Spades stands for an accomplished older man, often a position of authority. He is smart and ambitious, and a force to be reckoned with; but he is selfish and it will be his selfishness and blind pursuit of his own desires that will do him in.
THE DIAMONDS (regarding money and financial matters)
ROSINA (barber of seville), THE ACE OF DIAMONDS: The Ace of Diamonds, most literally, stands for small gifts- a bracelet, or a ring, or (most commonly) a letter. However, more metaphorically, it stands for upgrades and new opportunity; new households, new relationships, and new social status.
DONNA ELVIRA, THE TWO OF DIAMONDS: The Two of Diamonds usually stands for disapproval of a relationship, whether personally or societally. Often these relationships are implied to be affairs- ones that could have disastrous consequences for all involved.
LUCIA ASHTON, THE THREE OF DIAMONDS: The Three of Diamonds is another warning card. In its broadest strokes it symbolizes trouble, but if you look closer it often stands for broken marriages and violence in the home between families. It is a card that is at once very still and very violent; the calm before a storm.
TOM RAKEWELL, THE FOUR OF DIAMONDS: The Four of Diamonds stands for unexpected money and inheritance, and a sudden coming into one's own. However, it can also stand for heeding the advice of those closest to you, whether positive... or negative.
PORGY AND BESS, THE FIVE OF DIAMONDS: Like the Six of Spades, the Five of Diamonds is seen as a smaller card in the grand scheme of things; problems will go on before and after it. But it stands for improvements, and solidarity; quiet new beginnings and newfound hope.
B.F. PINKERTON, THE SIX OF DIAMONDS: The Six of Diamonds stands for domestic trouble and infidelity, but unlike the Three of Spades it focuses particularly on problems in a second marriage or multiple conflicting promises that cannot all be fulfilled. There's an urge to take responsibility- but also a sense that the urge will be ignored.
RODOLFO AND MARCELLO, THE SEVEN OF DIAMONDS: (fun fact this was the last card i did in the whole deck.) The Seven of Diamonds stands for financial challenges, particularly when it comes to work. It can also indicate meeting someone new, although this interpretation is much rarer.
FAUST, THE EIGHT OF DIAMONDS: The Eight of Diamonds stands for things coming in time. You may not find financial opportunities or even romance now, but they will surprise you later in life; you just have to look for them and stop worrying about the alleged value of youth.
BILLY BUDD, THE NINE OF DIAMONDS: The Nine of Diamonds often stands for new business opportunity presenting themselves in the workplace; most commonly the opportunity to travel.
HANNA GLAWARI, THE TEN OF DIAMONDS: The Ten of Diamonds stands for financial prosperity to the point of excess, as well as good fortune with your relationships and the people you choose to surround yourself with. Success is here! Celebrate!
DESPINA, THE JACK OF DIAMONDS: The Jack of Diamonds represents a close friend with darker intentions. She may be the bearer of bad news, or she may just be a gossip. The Jack of Diamonds is unreliable and dishonest, and would absolutely sell you out in a heartbeat.
CARMEN, THE QUEEN OF DIAMONDS: The Queen of Diamonds stands for an outgoing, flirtatious woman, one who isn't afraid to take life by the horns. Be her friend and she will be a great asset, be her enemy and you will always be annoyed with her. However, either way: Try to sever her from her carefree life, and there will be consequences.
KING FILIPPO, THE KING OF DIAMONDS: Like the King of Spades, the King of Diamonds is an accomplished older authoritative figure. He is often one of great influence over the people around him, although he may not realize it. Further information on the card tends to be contradictory, but it seems this man is more easily influenced than he initially appears and might not be trustworthy.
THE CLUBS (regarding chance and the wheels of fortune)
ORFEO AND EURIDICE (gluck), THE ACE OF CLUBS: The Ace of Clubs stands for a story that otherwise would end in tragedy, but- through compassion, or luck, or even the hand of God- has ended happily. Sudden changes of plans with positive connotations, sudden good fortune; very rarely is a sudden thing a good outcome in cartomancy but just this once it is.
AGRIPPINA, THE TWO OF CLUBS: The Two of Clubs stands for gossip and manipulation, as well as challenges in life brought about by them. The gossip in this case is entirely planned in order to influence specific outcomes. Be careful of those around you, and be even more careful of their ulterior motives.
LOHENGRIN AND ELSA, THE THREE OF CLUBS: The Three of Clubs stands for marriage, particularly marriages of wealth and power. While some allege the card also stands for successful marriages, there is a distinct layer of melancholy to it- perhaps the powerful are, in some way, always alone.
NICK SHADOW, THE FOUR OF CLUBS: The Four of Clubs stands for deceit and betrayal from those around you. You may find a friend or mentor that you trust greatly, but they will turn on you and manipulate you- and it's because you blindly accepted them to begin with. Take caution and beware of those with promises too sweet.
MIMI, THE FIVE OF CLUBS: The Five of Clubs indicates new friend groups, new support networks, and new places. It may be an indication to reach out more and see the world around you, but in this way it can serve as a warning: Do the things you want to do before your time runs out.
GIANNI SCHICCI, THE SIX OF CLUBS: The Six of Clubs indicates success in finance and relationships, primarily finance, but not one you will achieve yourself. Someone else- someone who you might know, or who might be a stranger- will financially assist you and find ways to help you get your matters sorted.
DIDO, THE SEVEN OF CLUBS: The Seven of Clubs stands two things at once. The first accomplishment in business, and a high societal rank. However, the second is trouble in relationships, and a deep sense of loneliness or isolation stemming from the first. These two go hand in hand- and in trying to please one you may lose your grip on the other.
LADY MACBETH, THE EIGHT OF CLUBS: The Eight of Clubs symbolizes difficulty, both personally and professionally, relating particularly to decay. Opportunities that seem tempting right now will crumble and turn on you. Be careful, and keep your ambition in check.
ESCAMILLO, THE NINE OF CLUBS: The Nine of Clubs is flashy and immediately draws your attention. You will find new opportunities, particularly presenting themselves in the form of a new admirer or romantic partner. However, at the same time, it is a warning against stubbornness, and should strike a bit of fear into the hearts of the bullish.
MANON LESCAUT, THE TEN OF CLUBS: The Ten of Clubs stands for unexpected- and joyful- travel, although it may come at the expense of other things. It can also represent newfound opportunity and a sense of love for the world at large.
BRUNHILDE, THE JACK OF CLUBS: The Jack of Clubs represents a strong-willed, trustworthy friend who will go to bat for you regardless of circumstance. She may be dramatic and fiery, but this is to her benefit, and to yours- you may always count on her in the face of struggle.
FRICKA, THE QUEEN OF CLUBS: The Queen of Clubs represents a confident women, unafraid to speak her mind yet burdened by her own power, in an authoritative position. She may infuriate some, and impede the plans of others, but in the end she has her reasons for her behavior and does bring up some good points.
WOTAN, THE KING OF CLUBS: The King of Clubs represents a strong older man. He may be affectionate and well-meaning in some readings, and deeply corrupt and contemptuous in others- perhaps these may both be true. He may seek money or a particular resource from you, and he may have ulterior motives to get it. What you think of him, ultimately, is up to you.
THE HEARTS (regarding love and relationships)
OCTAVIAN AND SOPHIE, THE ACE OF HEARTS (yes rosenkav is my least favorite but i had to put it in there somewhere i guesss): The Ace Of Hearts represents newness, and naïveté, and wet-behind-the-ears. It stands for puppy love and young couples, as well as new opportunity and budding romance.
FIGARO AND SUSANNA, THE TWO OF HEARTS: The Two of Hearts represents balance, harmonious relationships, or even just evenly-matched partnerships of any kind. Both parties are respectful and share balanced power, and happiness in the future is guaranteed as a result. The card may also suggest a knack for romantic fortune.
DON JOSE, THE THREE OF HEARTS: The Three of Hearts stands for romantic jealousy and possessiveness of others. It suggests foolishness, and misplaced priorities; it is often associated with throwing one's life away in the pursuit of supposed love, and for believing you have more control over others than you really do. The Three of Hearts serves as a warning: Be cautious in your relationships.
LEONORE/FIDELIO, THE FOUR OF HEARTS: The Four of Hearts stands for change and revolution on the horizon, often in the pursuit of passion or love. It may also mean peace prevailing, and love conquering all; in any case the Four of Hearts may be intimidating but it is ultimately a boon and a sign of good things to come.
OTELLO, THE FIVE OF HEARTS: The Five Of Hearts stands for envy. Either you may be envious of others, or others with dark motives may be envious of you. Either way, it is best to be cautious, and not let the green-eyed monster get the best of you.
PAPAGENO AND PAPAGENA, THE SIX OF HEARTS: The six of hearts stands for many things- things that are, in some way, united. It stands for keeping hope in darker times, and finding love in unexpected places- or simply being surprised by the person you end up with. It may also suggest something childlike or a moment of harmony.
SANTUZZA, THE SEVEN OF HEARTS: The Seven of Hearts, similarly to the Four of Spades, represents broken promises, although without the promise of illness. It often particularly represents a partner or friend, or other close figure, who will let you down in a moment of crisis.
HANSEL AND GRETEL, THE EIGHT OF HEARTS: The Eight of Hearts stands for visitors and invitations; comings and going. You may be invited by someone, or someone may visit you; in either case, however, be wary of their intentions because both positive and negative invitations are prophesied by this card.
NEMORINO AND ADINA, THE NINE OF HEARTS: The Nine of Hearts is somewhat unique in that its meaning is nearly universal. Known as the Wish Card, it is said it makes the wildest dreams come true, often synonymous with a new job, or partner, or child, or house. Think on your hopes with this card and they may come true.
CENDRILLON, THE TEN OF HEARTS: The Ten of Hearts represents good fortune on its way to the needy, often in the form of a large gathering or public social event. This event can be a wedding, or convention, but most often it is said to be a large party. You may meet important people there.
CHERUBINO, THE JACK OF HEARTS: The Jack of Hearts represents a young ally, often associated with young love. They may admire you the way schoolboys admire young teachers, or they may simply be a childish youth. They are your friend, although they are young and innocent and may not be the most helpful.
ALICE FORD, THE QUEEN OF HEARTS: The Queen of Hearts represents a kind woman, who will help you in your journeys and plans. She is usually a maternal figure, although she is not usually your literal mother, and she will be more clever than she initially appears to be.
HANS SACHS, THE KING OF HEARTS: Like the maternal figure of the Queen of Hearts, the King of Hearts is a paternal figure. He is a kind if somewhat more distant man. He will dispense good advice, and will help you in your romantic pursuits; although he is just as often associated with literature and the fine arts.
RIGOLETTO, THE RED JOKER, and CANIO, THE BLACK JOKER: Jokers are unique in the they are far younger than the rest of the deck, having been invented during the American Civil War for specific trump card-related games. They are not traditionally included in cartomancy for this reason, although they may be used as something similar to the Fool in the Tarot Major Arcana. They are often discarded immediately, and not given much further thought; while both Joker cards were obvious character choices I wanted to also highlight the sense of being discarded and unwanted that is pivotal to the card.
Thats all of them. If you're still reading this I'm so sorry.
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survey--s · 9 months
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579.
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Yesterday.
1) What was the weather like? Did it change your plans in any way? It was really nice actually - blue skies and sunshine. My plans would have been the same regardless though.
2) What did you do yesterday, anyway? Worked, did the food shop, sorted a bunch of housework, had a shower and then just chilled at home.
3) Did you eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner? What did you have? Yeah - breakfast was toast with vegemite, lunch was...leftover chicken nuggets and dinner was fish cakes and potato dauphinoise. Hardly the healthiest day lol.
4) Did you do some form of exercise? What? Yeah, three hours of dog walks.
5) Who did you spend the most time with? Mike, Louise and Sarah.
6) What television shows or movies did you watch? Keeping up with the Kardashians lol.
7) What time did you get up and go to bed? I got up at half seven and went to bed at midnight.
8) What was the best bit about yesterday? The weather was amazing and work was actually really good - just nice easy dogs.
9) What about the worst? Uh, nothing bad really happened yesterday, I have to say.
10) Did you talk to anyone on the phone? Who? Why? Nope.
Today.
1) What time did you get up? Around eight.
2) What are your plans for today? Today is over - I spent the morning visiting my parents and doing some shopping, plus we went for brunch and I caught up with some of my old colleagues. Then it was back home and I took a bath and since then I've just been chilling out online and watching TV.
3) Have you eaten any meals yet? What did you have? I had pancakes with bacon, creme fraiche, maple syrup and berries for brunch, a few crackers with pate for a snack and then sweet potato fries with BBQ sauce for dinner, plus some chocolate coated raspberries.
4) Are you planning on seeing your friends or boyfriend/girlfriend? I spend most of my day with my husband.
5) Does your favorite television show air today? I never watch live TV.
6) Have you spoken to your parents yet? Just my mum.
7) How many texts have you received? A handful.
8) Are you planning on going to bed early? I'll go up to bed after this survey probably but that doesn't mean I'll be going to sleep lol.
9) Have you done anything remotely productive today? Sure - a morning out, some housework and some shopping.
10) How much money did you spend so far? Are you planning on spending more later? £20 and no. I didn't even intend to spend that lol.
Tomorrow
1) What time do you have to get up tomorrow? Whenever I want to - probably around 8-9ish though, I don't really like sleeping in too late.
2) What do you hope the weather will be like? I don't really care as my plans are to do as little as possible lol.
3) Is there anything you’re dreading about tomorrow? Nope.
4) Is there anything important you need to do, or can you just relax? I plan on just having a chill/lazy day.
5) Do you have plans to see your friends? Nope.
6) What do you hope will happen tomorrow? I hope I get a decent nights' sleep, but otherwise I'm not really too fussed about what happens tomorrow.
7) Are you going to wake up at home, or somewhere else? Home.
8) If you don’t have any plans, what do you think you’ll end up doing? I'll be sleeping in and just relaxing at home.
9) Do you have to get a work out in at some point? No - Sundays are my day off from that kinda thing.
10) Will you be working or studying at all? Nopeeee.
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dogmomwrites · 1 year
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15 Questions, OC Edition
This tag came from @saltysupercomputer, so thank you!! I'm gonna pass it on with soft tags to @i-can-even-burn-salad, @on-noon, @menagerie-of-monsters, and @writting-in-blood, as well as keeping it an open tag for anyone who wants to share a little about their OCs!
This tag is for Old Tom from my fantasy series
Are you named after anyone? A folk hero of legend, yes. There are many stories about my namesake—too many to list here—but I've always worn our shared name with pride. The nickname is somewhat newer; I've traveled often, ever since I was old enough to weather the harsh winter outside our mountains on my own, and I quickly accumulated enough stories to leave the elders waiting their turn. A lighthearted comment was made about me being old despite my youth. At least, I hope it was lighthearted. I've never taken it with offense, as I remember being a small kit enraptured by the stories our elders would tell
When was the last time you cried? It has been a little while, now that I think about it. About eight moons, give or take a day or two
Do you have kids? Yes, I do! I'm the proudest father of seven beautiful children. Yes, seven is a rather large number, but it's very common for us cats to have more children than humans. My number is actually below the average
Do you use sarcasm a lot? I use sarcasm when I feel it's called for, which is wholly dependent on my current company
What’s the first thing you notice about people? Forgive me for my simpleness, but I tend to notice their species first and foremost
What’s your eye color? A very pale blue, like ice glazed over the mountainside
Scary movies or happy endings? I'm a fan of most any story, so please don't push for me to pick between the two. They both have their merits
Any special talents? I know every book in my library and can locate whichever someone is looking for no matter how weak their description of it is. I take great pride in that
Where were you born? In the nursery of our mountain home. My littermates and I were born in a cozy nest with our excited yet apprehensive father looking on and on the other side of the door, a horde of uncles, aunts, and cousins waiting to meet us. A new litter is always a cause of excitement and celebration for us
What are your hobbies? Oh, I do keep myself busy. You name it, chances are high that I've tried my paw at it
Have you any pets? When I was a very young kit, I sneaked out of the nursery and found a funny-looking animal swimming in a pool. I was so delighted by its ugliness that I spent hours playing with it, though I didn't dare step any further than the shallows. Imagine my surprise after I was found, brought home, scolded by both worried parents, and then finally told of where I'd been, only to be informed that my new pet was called a fish. And we ate them. It was a day to remember, that's for sure
What sports do you play/have played? As I mentioned before, I've tried my paw at every game I've come across. Not many human games are very cat-friendly, although I've found I can hold my own with a little practice
How tall are you? I stand sixteen inches at the shoulder
Favorite subject in school? Hunting! I always loved when our teachers would take us out into the caves and show us how to stalk, pounce, and track our prey. I was a very dutiful student and would practice my pouncing on my littermates as soon as we returned home from classes!
Dream job? I already have that, I'm pleased to say. I'm the librarian. They call me the wandering librarian, as I'm prone to bouts of wanderlust, but I've trained my assistants well, and the library runs quite well when I'm not there
The empty question template is under this cut!
Are you named after anyone?
When was the last time you cried?
Do you have kids?
Do you use sarcasm a lot?
What’s the first thing you notice about people?
What’s your eye color?
Scary movies or happy endings?
Any special talents?
Where were you born?
What are your hobbies?
Have you any pets?
What sports do you play/have played?
How tall are you?
Favorite subject in school?
Dream job?
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Warning: long rant about change and love below. I've been having Thoughts and decided to yell them to the void
i love my friends i love my friends i love my friends. i think it’s important to look back and see how much you’ve changed over the years and it’s easy to see the obvious things like interests and fashion and school but sometimes i catch myself thinking about just how much my thoughts have changed and i wonder how they’re gonna change later in life. i’ve been thinking about how the way i love and view love has changed a lot recently and how grateful i am that i get to love so many people so deeply, and i remember being a little kid maybe three or four and thinking about how much i loved the animals around me and i thought there was no way i could love anything more than how i loved the little june bug sitting on my hand or the grasshopper i’d been trying to catch for the past hour. i remember growing up a little more being maybe six or seven now and realizing how much i loved my brother, we were partners in crime and i cherished every moment we spent together, i remember feeling guilty because i knew i was supposed to love my parents as much if not more than i loved my brother but he raised me more than they ever did. i didn’t fully understand it at the time to me he was just my best friend and i didn’t understand why anybody wouldn’t be best friends with their sibling, and as i continued to get older i became aware of mental health and the impacts of depression and anxiety i watched my brother struggle with both these things and remember thinking how i wouldn’t be able to survive without him there next to me. back in eighth and ninth grade i used to brag about how little i cried, i would brag about how the last time i cried outside of a physical injury was when i was eight years old (which was true by the way) but freshman year i was confronted with many of my friends experiencing similar issues as my brother, they too were struggling with depression and suicidal ideation and again i felt guilty that i couldn’t get myself to cry over the thought of them dying, and i tried to think of every person i had ever loved dying and the only one that finally got me to cry was the thought of my brother dying. this was how i defined love, i mean i thought i loved my friends and the rest of my family and i did and i do but this separated my brother out from them, to me loving someone was when i couldn’t bare the thought of losing them.
a couple more years passed and i’m now dating my girlfriend, it wasn’t love at first sight and honestly i didn’t expect the relationship to last very long i was going for a short little fling something to occupy my time and keep me from getting bored but slowly i realized that i was falling in love with her, more than that she changed the way i loved and at first it was without me even knowing it. it took the general course of a relationship where it’s a bit obsessive then it’s comfortable then you can’t imagine or even remember your life without them. it honestly wasn’t until this past year that i realized the way i loved her was different than i had ever loved anything else. my love for her is infinite, it is an endless void that is all consuming. i can reach a hand in and pull out a miles worth of love and then i can reach in and pull out more. there is no direction there is no amount that would allow me to finally reach the end of it. i can think i’ve found it and think finally there is no way i could possibly love her more than i do right now, but then i go back and somehow there it is, still more. every time i am amazed and dumbfounded by how much love i have for her. there is so much that it flows into everything else i do. it is because of her that i know how to love all the things around me too.
i started this off by saying i love my friends because i do, i love them the same way i love my girlfriend, infinitely and ineffably. i think of my friends and i’ve never felt a greater joy, and i think of them again and again there is more joy and love then the last time i thought of them. before this past year i wouldn’t have been able to describe or understand what this kind of love feels like, i would’ve thought it was reserved for movies and poetry, a feeling to aspire to but never to reach. most of my friendships through out my life have been ones to keep away the boredom, they were friendships of convenience. i had them so i wasn’t alone at lunch and so teachers wouldn’t worry about me. they were there as a sort of interactive tv show, characters for silly stories that i could tell later on. there was no real connection, no matter how much i tried i couldn’t get myself to care as much as i had wanted to. i hadn’t really connected the dots until recently but it was probably because i moved around so much, why care about them if i was just gonna leave them in a year or so. this could explain why i felt connected to my high school friends more so than any of my other friends, i went to a boarding school so no matter where i lived i would still be able to to stay the entire four years, it was the most permanent a friendship had ever felt. i considered my high school friends to be the first real friends i ever had which i still think is true, but also remember thinking that was the most connected i could ever feel to someone which i know now is not true. i loved them and cared for them, but not in the way i love my friends now. the way i love my friends now impacts my entire world. it is because i love my friends that i also love the grass and the birds and the sun and the wind. it is because i love my friends that i also love classes and strangers and meals and studying. they taught me how to love the good things more and how to love the bad things too. the endless void of love isn’t big enough. even a void with no end or beginning doesn’t have enough space to fit all the love i feel and it overflows into the everyday. it leaks into loving the mundane and the gross because there is nowhere else for it to go. i never thought that i could love this much and certainly not for this many people. so i’ll say it again i love my friends i love my friends i love my friends
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