Tumgik
#if not here then where etc etc
time-is-restored · 11 months
Text
btw this might be me swinging a bat at a hornets nest but like. absolutely none of my disappointment from the tl finale comes from ship baiting or any relationships that didn’t happen (though to be clear, i think the tedbecca fake outs were meanspirited and served no narrative purpose - in noted contrast to the season's earlier jamiekeeley fakeouts, for example, which were explicitly there to demonstrate jamie's growth + maturity)
tedpendant is a really fun concept for me, and i LOVE the characterisation + thematic potential there!
but as someone who personally resonated with a lot of ted’s struggles, the idea that ted could leave richmond so… seamlessly, for lack of a better word, really doesn’t sit right with me. the thesis of the shows entire first season - assuming it can be said to have only one - was about how everyone needs the love and support of a community, whether that comes in the flavour of someone who hypes u tf up or someone who will relentlessly call u on ur shit (or, as happened quite frequently, both!).
rebecca, roy, jamie are the clearest examples as the characters with the most screentime: they were all deeply isolated and disconnected from the people around them, and that was making them miserable. the connections they made with the team, the vulnerability they finally allowed themselves to express (the ghost banishing ceremony comes to mind!), and them going on to want *more* out of their life are what made their arcs about *progression* rather than *regression*. without that clear theme of compassion + community inspiring positive growth in everyone who encounters it, there is, frankly, no season one.
my personal favourite scene from season one comes right after michelle walks away from ted, when they’ve agreed to get divorced. ted sits down on the bench looking gutted, and a little shell shocked - and beard sits down with him. hands him the drink, and they sit there together. silent, but together. to me, that scene is an implicit promise from the episode, to the audience: ‘it’ll be okay. it’s going to be hard, but ted isn’t alone, and his friends won’t leave him behind.’
it also makes it clear to the audience that ted isn’t the saintly-giver-of-grace who needs nothing in return, as one might assume on first brush, but rather that he’s Also struggling with his own shit (as is everyone, always, in real life!) and he has something he needs from the people around him too.
and looking at the text of s3, and the conclusion to his arc in the finale, i just don’t believe that he got it. he wasn’t just sad that he was leaving (which would be understandable!), he was completely closed off. unresponsive to the people around him reaching out, borderline confused as to why they were trying so hard!
(side note, while i completely respect the read of ted and trents last interaction being rather rude + ooc on ted’s part, i personally read a different motive into it. for me, it was more like… he didn’t understand where trents enthusiasm was coming from? like, he read that as trent being too invested in what other people think of him, and responded in a way that he hoped would emphasise that ted doesn’t *need* to laugh at everything trent wrote, bc trent Already Knows that he’s done something really cool and kickass, and he shouldn’t value anyone else’s reactions above that. basically, based on his demeanour in the episode, i genuinely don’t think it would’ve even occurred to him that trent was more invested in HIS reaction than he would’ve been with anyone else.)
again, looking purely at the text, the show had already established that ted has really strong depressive + avoidant tendencies, as well as panic attacks (largely triggered by his fear of not being ‘good enough’ in various roles, ie: a father). we saw one area he was able to calm HIMSELF abt these fears (worry for henry, which is a Hell of a choice considering the ending…), but in literally every other heightened moment, he had to rely on his support system to help him make the choices that he WANTED to make, rather than ones inspired by avoidance and fear (ie: confronting michelle abt jake, talking to his mum abt why she was visiting + his dads death).
and to be clear, this is a GOOD THING! we’re not supposed to go through life alone, no matter how bad OR well we’re doing. rebecca and keeleys friendship isn’t worth less for all the scenes where they’re both in good places. if anything, the opposite is true - it’s lovely that they both have someone who want to celebrate the achievements in their life!
and fuck it, we’re sure as hell not supposed to go through life with exactly one (1) person whom we expect to fulfill ALL of our emotional needs at all times either! like, im sure i don’t need to labour my point here, but tying everything to one (1) person in ur life doesn’t make u any less isolated than if u were going it completely alone, whether it’s a family member, a friend, or a partner. i won’t pretend to know the first thing abt what it’s like to be a parent, but i don’t think it’s unreasonable to say that no parent would be at their best if they had absolutely no support/camaraderie/general love provided to them from Anyone other than their child.
so when ted is SPECIFICALLY shown to be in a bad place, over and over again (did he come to terms w his fear to be close to henry overnight???????), and then removed from his community? of COURSE the audience is left feeling unsettled, and like the rug has been pulled out from under them. there was no time in this finale dedicated to how ted would still be in contact with anyone from richmond. no promises of visits, or phone calls - fuck, nothing about emails!! according to the text, we might as well assume this is a clean break (and the maybe-dream-sequence does Fuck All to assure us otherwise. if ted doesn’t go to beards wedding, what WOULD he go to????). and since the show has ALSO completely failed to give us even an IMPLICATION of who/what ted’s support system would be in kansas, there’s… a reasonable argument to be made that this is It for ted. that, after two seasons doing NOTHING but attesting otherwise, the audience is supposed to suddenly believe that ted can (and SHOULD!) pull himself up by his bootstraps, and cope entirely on his own.
that, to me, is a betrayal of the show’s premise. we were promised a show about how, no matter how dark things may get, none of the characters would be left to struggle alone. and then they ended the show with ted alone.
i don’t know. i guess if i had to give this post a tldr; if anyone has any gen fic/meta/Literally Anything in the pipeline, i would absolutely love to be tagged/directed towards it. i’ll be endeavouring to write something myself, as well, but it might take a while before i can return to my WIP, lol.
#this is the most measured version of this post i was capable of fghjskdjhgfdgjhsfd#the least measured one is just the aromantic flag with the ‘we are going to beat u to death’ meme overlaid#look ik this is hardly impartial wrt very small + insular communities like nuclear families#but its fucking impossible to go into media analysis and not bring Anything from ur real life in there w u#so im trying to forgive myself for being a little hashtag Vulnerable + Opinionated on main#in the spirit of what this show could’ve been lol#if not here then where etc etc#Ted lasso spoilers#Ted lasso meta#Ted lasso critical#also just to be clear here im being dead serious abt that last point#im spiritually doing the jamie run to demonstrate to u all how badly i want gen shit#please. p l e a s e .#okay wait last ramble here but. this is also why the lack of information we got on trent was so crushing to me#like ur telling me this man went through the incredibly painful + harrowing process of breaking out of his (comfortable! safe) shell +#cynical journalist persona. came out to someone VERY important in his life. and has done nothing but face the music wrt acknowleding#his past mistakes + endeavouring to be better and kinder. and we never get to know if he has ANY support through all that? at all?#is he dating? what's his family situation like? does he have full custody? any friends from work? any friends period?????#like i can should must and will die on the beard + roy + higgins + colins are trents best friends hill but#its like the premise of the show stopped mattering just in time for him to be left in a legitimately depressing limbo#like 'yes everyone needs love + support bc life is rlly hard. but we're tired of making a show abt that so This Is All Ur Getting#+ screw anyone's personal life that u didn't already see in s1. You Know Enough.'#anyway i love u all this is a very silly show and im gonna go play t.o.t.k for a few hours o/ <3
80 notes · View notes
stuckinapril · 25 days
Text
I love Tumblr because nothing matters here truly. There are no influencers. Having followers doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a site where people post their sporadic thoughts and rb pretty pictures. Anyone who thinks any of this matters is woefully missing the point
2K notes · View notes
mjulmjul · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Castiel’s creation
4K notes · View notes
bullagit · 8 months
Text
due to personal reasons i am now firmly on team “i hope aziraphale does change heaven for the better actually (going on the assumption that his return is as straightforward as it seemed etc” 
like if the alternative is just this ohhh he’s so NAIVE and SOFT and so WRONG and he’ll have to LEARN A TOUGH LESSON etc etc nonsense then yeah 1000% go for it babe knock it out of the park
i hope choosing hope and kindness pays dividends. i hope the soft traits that made other characters continually disparage and underestimate him and his intelligence turn out to be his greatest assets bc i kinda don’t give a shit about a “toughen up it’s the only way everyone else knows better” life lesson for this character
(which like honestly a lot of the rhetoric is dismissive of the fact that persistent goodness in the face of an existence of disparagement takes great strength and that at the end of the day aziraphale has always been able to stand up in his own way)
2K notes · View notes
fimbry · 1 year
Text
Lykoi the werewolf cat breed
So I’m not going to be arguing because I’ve seen enough from enough owners over the years to have reached this conclusion, and I’m not in well enough health to come back to this. But I’m seeing the lykoi breed get more attention around tumblr lately, and I’ve gotta speak up because the breed has a dirty little secret.
I joined the Lykoi Lovers group years ago because I loved this breed, they’re super cute! I love werewolves! However, over the years, as more people got these cats, and their cats aged up (3-5+yo is when skin issues become REALLY evident) the group turned into a horror show.
This mutation really reminds me of lemon frost in leopard geckos. In the geckos, it was the desirable appearance which CAUSED the cancerous tumors. It wasn’t something that could be bred out. Similarly, it is the werewolf appearance which causes the skin issues, cysts, pimples, bleeding in the cats. You can breed away from it... and end up with a normal looking cat with fewer skin issues. You cannot seem to keep the werewolf look AND have good skin.
More below, and it IS graphic so be warned. Pus, blood, sad cats under the cut.
Let’s start with "what to know before getting a Lykoi”
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Okay, inevitably bumpy? What’s that mean exactly?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“The gene that is specific to Lykoi that creates the semi hairless and roaning look is thought to be responsible for less hair follicles and possibly smaller pores. This in turn could be responsible for the cyst/pimple issue. So, it's not going to be in Sphinx or any other breed, it's specific to Lykoi. Responsible breeders are currently working on breaking away from some of the older lines with bad skin and breed Lykoi that have no or less bumps. However what happens when you breed for more coat and better skin is that it seems to lessen the look of the Lykoi. Many of the heavier coated Lykoi without skin issues lack a mask or have a very slight one.“
^^^This is pretty damning as far as the future of the breed goes. Well bred ones will not look like werewolf cats.
Okay, but that’s just a couple cats, and just one cyst. That’s not so bad---
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“They definitely bother me more than her.” You sure about that?? Look at her...
Tumblr media
Okay but that’s just a FEW cats, how bad could it b--
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Again, this issue typically appears after the cat is 3-5 years old, so people buy their little werewolf cats unwise to the fact it’ll live with painful skin problems for the majority of its life.
It is the very mutation which reduces follicle count and pore size which causes the werewolf appearance and the blackheads and cysts, so I think “breeding it out” is nothing but a pipe dream. The mutation itself is what causes the problems, as mentioned earlier just like lemon frost leopard geckos.
Anyway, this has been a PSA.
4K notes · View notes
fumifooms · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Chilchuck analysis speedrun: As a hardworking half-foot who grew up poor and discriminated against and had his gullibility taken advantage of multiple times in his early adventuring days, Chilchuck thinks optimism is a dangerous flaw. He’s stressed and strict all the time because his job is noticing details like traps that could get everyone killed before anyone knows it, he takes the lives of everyone to be on his shoulders, and with the way he speaks about it that probably partly reflects how he felt about taking it upon himself to provide for his family too. His life’s always been pretty centered around work and has become even moreso now that his wife left and everyone is independent, and due to past events he’s very iffy with bonding with coworkers. He thinks feelings and job are a disaster mix. Like with his wife or with parties hiring him as sacrifice, being open or having good faith is vulnerability which can get you hurt, so he processes and shows all his stress as anger instead of worry. Doing strict dieting probably isn’t helping the irritability what with hunger, and on top of being a hunger suppressant alcohol might be the main stress reliever he has.
His grey hairs are so earned
Tumblr media Tumblr media
#Chilchuck tims#dungeon meshi#analysis#HAPPY CHILCHUCK DAY#You know what yeah understandable have a good day#Alcohol be a ticket straight to chilling out town I suppose#Spoilers#dungeon meshi manga spoilers#Thinking on if I should split my family masterpost into diff posts for max reach hmm#Anyways I’m def editing in the second page into that post that “I’ve got three people to think of here” sounds sooo much like that’s#How he’d think about it in a family setting as well. He works so hard for them 🥺#I could have put 100 pics on this post to justify everything I mentioned but this is a speedrun for a reason. I’m planning so many#Compilations rn i need a break from rereading lol#He’s just here to do his work!! He just wanna do his work!!!#I’m always rotating him in my brain like rotisserie chicken :( Hopefully this doesn’t sound disjointed or insane to average readers#He’s always on his guard so he has a short fuse and his type of humor & liking for snarky remarks doesn’t help#Also bc he knows nothing lasts he has a very work hard play hard mentality where ‘dying doing something you love. Like drinking’#Is nice in his opinion#This post makes it all sound so dry. Chilchuck is so messy thinking about him is thrilling I swear. This is concise but at what cost…#OH ALSO he has weird self-hate issues where he really values his skills but devalues himself on a personal level.#‘I am a coward. I only care about myself. I cheated on my wife (lying for no reason)’ etc etc#Can’t disappoint people and make them leave you if they already have no expectations and esteem of you 😏💡
477 notes · View notes
simmyfrobby · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Now the shame of it was that they loved each other. But they were both too young to know how to love. Full of doubt, he ran away.
hockey poetry post 113/?
― The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12
406 notes · View notes
thesunisatangerine · 5 months
Text
against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part nine
alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader
warnings: mentions of grief, suggestive material, hurt/comfort
(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]
word count: 6.6k
words in italics: whatever language you like
Before this misunderstanding could get any bigger, you stepped in quickly. 
“Alexia, this is Elisa, my daughter and that’s my brother’s husband, Robert. Elisa, Robert, this is Alexia.”
At that, Alexia’s gaze softened but when she met your eyes, questions swam in those hazel pools, ones that you sensed concerned your daughter. You gave Alexia a tight-lipped smile in answer–this was neither the time nor place to talk about something like that. 
“Oh, I see. It’s nice to meet you both,” Alexia spoke in English.
She walked closer to the stands to where Robert stood and reached out a hand for him to shake. Robert–who finally got some of his color back after Alexia stopped leering at him–regarded Alexia’s hand with an uneasy look like it was something dangerous before he eventually shook it. Then Alexia turned to Elisa and offered her a closed fist while your daughter only gawked at Alexia, obviously starstruck. “And it’s nice to meet you, too, Elisa.”
Elisa remained still and unusually quiet so you coaxed softly, “ladybug?”
That seemed to snap Elisa out from her starstruck stupor and as she came back to herself, her eyes darted to you. You smiled at her, encouraging, then you tilted your head at Alexia’s direction. Slowly, Elisa bumped her fist against Alexia’s, cheeks reddening immediately as she scurried off behind Robert right after, peeking through the gap between her uncle’s hip and arm to look at Alexia shyly. 
“Do you want me to sign your shirt?”
Elisa nodded. Robert passed the shirt to Alexia, who signed it, before she passed it back to Robert.
“Thank you,” came Elisa’s bashful gratitude.
When your eyes flitted back to Alexia’s face, you found her brows tilted upwards which allowed the stadium lights to brighten her already fair eyes. She looked on at Elisa’s timid display with warmth and the sight of such softness in her demeanour tugged at your heartstring. 
Without tearing her attention away from Elisa, Alexia said through a small smile, “she’s adorable, no?”
“She’s a little shy but she’s actually a big fan of yours. You should see her practicing your moves–”
“Mom…” Elisa whined, stopping you from embarrassing her further. You sent her an apologetic smile before you mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’ to her.
“Oh, you play football? How old are you?” Alexia asked softly. 
After  a moment of silence, you took the helm when you noticed Elisa wasn’t going to answer. Her reaction to Alexia was completely understandable. Alexia, despite being one of the warmest people you knew, could easily intimidate some with her presence due to her reserved and stoic nature. Her gaze–especially for the ones who were new to meet her–could be so intense and disarming that it was hard not to look away or, in this case, shy away from her.
“She turned twelve last February. And yes, she’s actually enrolled in a Barça Academy located near our city.”
Alexia’s brows rose with interest. She regarded Elisa again as she spoke, switching to Spanish this time, with clear approval in her tone. “So she has Blaugrana in her blood. What position does she play?”
“Barça is by far her favorite club and it doesn’t help that you play in it. And she plays forward.” You answered in the same tongue. 
Alexia hummed, the corner of her lips quirking up. You knew that look so when she turned back to you, you raised a brow at her.
“What? Disappointed she doesn’t play midfield like you?” 
She flashed you a sheepish half-smile and rubbed her cheek with a finger, a gesture that you still found so endearing, before she threw her hands up in false surrender. “I’m just saying! And you can’t really blame me for having a bias.” 
“No, of course not. How could I hold that against you?” You said in an excessively dry tone. What you didn’t expect was for Alexia to throw her head back as laughter bubbled out from her throat in a familiar melody that tickled your ear, and you couldn’t help the grin that made its way to your lips at her amusement. She looked so beautiful like this: her hair–now back to its light brown shade–untamed with the way baby strands clung to the slight dampness on her temple, and the rosy blush painted upon her cheeks and nose from the events that just occurred; she looked so carefree in this moment, in the aftermath of their victory, that the glow of her youth shone right through, unfiltered.
When your eyes flitted over to Elisa and Robert, you found them gaping at your interaction with wide eyes, looking very much unsure on what to make of it. Then you also realised Alexia’d stopped laughing and she was now looking at you with a small smile on her lips. Your cheeks warmed at the attention, at having been caught staring, so you casted your eyes down to your feet, clearing your throat as you kicked an invisible pebble.
It surprised you, the ease with which you were able to fall back in playful banter with Alexia as if the fifteen months that made strangers from the both you never existed. Alexia must’d thought the same thing because when you looked at her again, Alexia’s smile had dimmed somewhat but the warmth in her eyes never left.
“Congratulations on the win, by the way. You earned it. All of you did.” You said, indicating at the golden medal around her neck. The urge to hug her as you spoke pervaded you but you managed to brush it off. 
Alexia looked down at it, her lips quirking up into a small proud smile.
“Thank you.” A pause as she regarded you. And then, “want to hold it?”
The suggestion took you aback and you were quick to dismiss her. “Oh, no, I’m good–”
Alexia, being Alexia, stepped into you space anyway, took your right hand and placed the medal on your palm. You tried not to focus too much on how her touch electrified you by focusing on how the surface of the metal cooled your skin, its weight surprisingly heavier than it looked, and you traced its intricate engravings with the pads of your fingers, admiring the details. 
“Can we talk?” Alexia said in a low voice that only the both of you would be able to hear. She was standing less than an arm’s length away from you–when did she get so close?–and the softness you found in her hazel eyes when you gazed up at her made you want to reach out and brush your thumb over the skin beneath them. 
At your silence Alexia touched your right wrist and you felt her thumb grazed ove the bracelet she gave you. Her gaze was magnetic and you were powerless against her pull.
You began, “I–”
“Alexia! Come on, we have to go!” Both of your heads turned to the voice. It was Misa who was waving Alexia over to where their other teammates were gathering. Alexia gave Misa a gesture to wait and she looked back at you again but with desperation now in her eyes. 
“Go. I’ll be in Barcelona for a week starting next Thursday. We can talk sometime then?” 
Alexia nodded, gave you a small smile before she turned to walk away. She startled you when she faced you again and before you knew it, her arms were wrapped around your shoulders.
“Same place?” She whispered in your ear.
You snaked your arms around her waist. 
“You know where to find me.”
So it was then on this late, warm Friday evening in Barcelona the week after the Olympics final, you found yourself opening the door to Alexia. 
You had agreed to meet the next day for lunch so it was more than a surprise to you to find her under the warm glow of the porch light right then. And before a word could even leave your mouth to voice your confusion, Alexia strode into your space, crowding you until your back hit the cool surface of the wall next to the door as it swung close.
Alexia was in front of you now, the distance between you so sparse that you could feel the heat that emanated from her body. You stared up at her, breathless when you were finally able to speak, “Alexia–”
“Are you seeing someone right now?” Her tone was even though the crease in her brows and the fervid depth in her eyes made you shiver.
“Wait, what are–”
“Just answer me!”
“No! Why–”
Before you knew it, her hand cradled your jaw as she brought her lips to yours, and the only thing you could do was gasp from the sudden heat of it all. It was filled with such ardour, Alexia’s kiss, that each movement of her lips threatened to both destroy and mend you again, each pull as devastating and as sweet as the last. But the sweetness didn’t last long; not after you felt the warmth against your cheeks and tasted salt on your tongue.
Alexia was crying.
She was aching, you knew it–could feel it in the slight quiver of her lips, in the frantic way with which her fingers tangled in your hair. And from her pain came yours, unfurling from your heart, into your throat, longing–reaching–to comfort and be soothed by her, your almost lover. Though it hurt, it made your teeth ache with the bittersweetness of it all because here she was breathing the same air as you, sharing the same heat as her lips melted with yours, and, god, how it felt like coming home–like the first breath once you breached the surface after being submerged for so long.
Was this what it felt like to be exhumed? Was this what life tasted like?
The kiss was slow and deep, the way only two almost lovers knew how to; the both of you took your time mapping each other’s lips, learning how to move in the same rhythm again. It was familiar but the tenderness–that gentle ardour–was above all else amplified, warming your flesh and blood to a delicate simmer. 
You sighed against Alexia’s lips as you pressed your body further into her, and in response she to you, and you relished how in spite of the strength that rested beneath the firmness of her self, everything about her remained, oh, so soft. And it was this want for more closeness that prompted you to tighten the grip around her hand that cupped your jaw, an unspoken plea for her to not let go–to not let you go.
How had you gone on for so long without her touch?
A familiar scream ruptured the silence, shattering the moment instantly.
It was automatic and immediate your reaction to it: you tore yourself from Alexia’s embrace and rushed towards Elisa’s bedroom, ignoring the way your vision blurred from the sudden exertion, your lungs protested as you hurried up the stairs. You were already expecting it but like all the times you were faced with it, your heart broke all the same at the sight of Elisa sitting up by the headboard of her bed, spine crooked as she curled in on herself, head lowered to the top of her knees while her hands pressed against her ears. Upon your intrusion, she lifted her head to reveal wide eyes that darted to you, frantic at first, but the apprehension in them dimmed when she saw you. 
You tried to compose yourself as you approached her slowly, before you placed yourself just by the edge of her bed.
Gently, you called out, “ladybug?”
Not a second later did Elisa throw herself into your embrace and immediately hid her face in the crook of your neck, her hands clawing and gripping at the fabric of your shirt while her sobs made rattles from her bones. All of her self was tense, taught and coiled, her pain’s physical manifestation–all the intangible grief violently wrought into existence. 
Elisa clung to you as she cried and you could do nothing in the moment but offer comfort through your embrace, hugging her just as tight, brushing back her hair–consoling–as you began a common lullaby in her mother tongue, rocking her to its gentle rhythm in the hopes that it could salve the wounds of her past even a little. 
In her own time, Elisa emerged from the throes of her grief, her grip on your soaked shirt loosened, her sobs now reduced to hiccups and sniffles. You carded your fingers through her damp hair and wiped the sweat that lined her forehead.
As softly as you could, you whispered, “want to talk about it, ladybug?”
Elisa didn’t answer as she seemed to gather herself, gnawing on her lower lips, brows creased in a pained frown. You were about to remind her that she didn’t have to when she answered in a voice so small that made the rawness in it all the more pronounced. 
“I saw Mother’s… I saw her dead beside me again.” She cuddled closer to you before she continued, “it’s always been her but when I looked this time I–”
Fresh tears sprung to her eyes, they fell when she squeezed them shut, and your heart broke a little more. You were quick to hug her tighter, pressing a kiss on the top of her head to console her. Elisa sniffled then she continued, “this time I–I saw you instead. I saw you dead.”
Elisa whimpered and she clung to you again.
“Oh, ladybug. That must have been difficult to see.” You hugged her tighter. “Were you scared?”
Nod. 
“What were you scared of?”
Silence. 
“I was scared because I thought I was alone again. I was scared you left me, too.”
Her answer made you pause and you regarded her, your worry now twofold. 
“What else do you feel, Elisa?”
“I don’t know,” Elisa shrugged. She pressed a fist to her chest, “but it hurts right here. I hate it. I want it to disappear. Why does it still hurt so much?” 
The state of her pained you enough as it was but how much more agonising this must be for Elisa? So you pressed your temple on her head as you began, soft but firm when the words passed through your lips. 
“It aches so it’s not surprising you want it to go away. And you hate it because it stays with you. And it hurts because you’re still grieving, Elisa. A year may feel like a long time but what happened to you is not an easy thing to move on from. You’re still trying to heal.” 
“If there is part of you that’s telling you it’s your fault your family died, I want you to remember that it isn’t. It isn’t your fault. You were so loved, Elisa, and you loved them just as much. And you still are loved.”
“I won’t leave you. As long as we’re here–your Uncle Derek, Uncle Robert, Nana, and I–as long as you want us to be, we’ll be your family and we love you. And death might come for all of us, and it is scary, terrifying and painful most times, but our love will never fade. The love given to you and the love that made you, they will never leave you, Elisa. Love comes and goes, and it may change its form, but it is never lost. You’re right here with me and you’re safe, and I love you. You’re never alone, ladybug, don’t you ever forget that.”
Elisa turned her head to look up at you and in the warm glow of her nightlight, you saw her chin quiver. “Promise you’ll never leave me?”
“As long as I breathe, I promise.”
You pressed a kiss on the top of her head, on her temple, then on her forehead before you hugged her again. Elisa sagged in your embrace as a watery sigh escaped her lips, and though she sniffled, she shed no more tears.
“I love you, too, Mom.”
In response, you kissed her forehead.
“How are you feeling now, ladybug?”
“A lot better, thank you.”
“Do you need me to get you anything?”
“Water, please?” 
“Okay. Do you want to come with me downstairs or are you alright with me going for a bit?”
Elisa thought about it before she said, “I’ll be alright here.”
You smiled at your daughter, half encouraging and more than proud, as your chest filled with warmth at her display of bravery. You stood, grabbed a fresh shirt from her closet and placed it on her lap so she could change out of her damp one. “Okay. How about you change into this while I’m gone, hmm? I’ll be right back.”
She nodded and you darted out of the room but not after you placed another kiss on top of her head and squeezed her knee for reassurance. So engrossed were you in your aim that you nearly ran into Alexia who was just standing off to the side of the doorway, an unopened bottle of water in hand. As soon as she saw you, she offered it to you without a word with a soft look in her eyes made warmer by the dim, yellow glow of the wall lamp beside her head. It was a simple gesture but your heart expanded from the thought behind it, so much so that you nearly cried when you took the bottle from her. 
“Is there anything else you need?” Alexia whispered as she stepped into your space, brushing the back of her hand over your cheek gently. You leant into the comfort of her touch and sighed, before you shook your head in answer.
“This is more than enough, thank you.” You met Alexia’s gaze one more time before you knocked on Elisa’s door and slipped back into it upon her consent. Once inside, you opened the bottle and gave it to Elisa and as she sipped from it, you ventured into her closet again to grab a small towel to dry her sweat with.
“How do you feel, ladybug?” You asked as you ran the towel over her face and the back of her neck.
“Sleepy,” she said with a small smile. You returned it in kind.
“Do you want to try going back to sleep? I’ll stay here if you want.”
Elisa yawned her agreement as she nodded so you tucked her in. Then you reclined against her headboard and began a lullaby, gently dragging the back of your finger in the space between her eyes until her eyelids fluttered close before her breathing deepened and eventually evened out. You remained there until you were certain Elisa had fallen asleep completely before you slipped back out, making sure to leave a slight gap between the door and the frame just in case Elisa woke up again. 
It wasn’t a surprise when you found Alexia still patiently waiting out in the hall, who pushed herself from the wall she was leaning on upon seeing you.
“Is she okay?” She asked softly, looking over your shoulder at Elisa’s door, concern apparent in her tone and the crease between her brows. 
“She’s… she’ll get there. She’s been through a lot for someone so young but she’s getting better.” It was getting frequent again, you noted with more than a hint of worry, Elisa’s recurring nightmares about the horrors she’d witnessed. You knew you needed to talk to Elisa about her therapy and if she’d be inclined to take more sessions to unpack this because there was only so much you could do to help her.
“What happened to her?” 
You looked at Alexia at that, unable to answer her–had no desire to if you were being honest. How could you come up with the words to explain it especially when doing so would lead to questions about what happened to you? And that was something you truly didn’t want to, or even knew how to, talk about. 
Alexia must had found something in your eyes because she just nodded at your reticence and casted her gaze down. You grazed your knuckles over the back of her hand, partly in appreciation for her respect and partly for her to follow you, while you stepped past her to the stairs down to the living room, Alexia’s footsteps not too far behind you. 
The both of you entered the living room in silence, the tension from what transpired between the two of you upon Alexia’s arrival and the weight of what you were about to talk about made the air thick for breathing. 
With crossed arms you settled on the wingback chair on the far side of the coffee table while Alexia situated herself on the other at the opposite side, leaving the couch unoccupied; the memories in it far too intimate for two people who’d grown apart.
During this reprieve, you finally allowed yourself the luxury to take Alexia in. You didn’t really get the chance to, it had all been a blur the moment she strode through the door, but now your eyes roamed over her freely. 
She had a pair of low rise denims on, a leather jacket over a white shirt that revealed a strip of her stomach while her loose, light brown hair framed her face. Even when sitting down, her character remained undiminished especially with the way she sat with her legs parted, one hand hanging over the chair’s arm while the other was on her chin, fingers splayed over her lips as she regarded you quietly in a fixing gaze that left you feeling exposed–vulnerable. 
Alexia brushed her lower lip with her fingers as she sank further against the upholstered back of the chair, tilting her chin up slightly as she kept her eyes trained at you. Her movement caused the warm glow of the light to touch her lips, drawing your attention to them, and you noted how they still glistened from the sheen of your lip balm from when she’d kissed you before, and the reminder made you burn, unpleasant in the way it ached, a bittersweet mixture of your immense desire and longing for the woman before you. It was intentional the way she moved; you knew it from the way Alexia’s eyes challenged you to speak up but you couldn’t quite find the words to say–you didn’t dare to. 
“Are they real?” Came the question. 
It was low and even, how Alexia posed it, but the abruptness with which the silence was broken made you flinch. That didn’t go unnoticed by Alexia it seemed because her gaze immediately softened. 
“Are what real?” 
“What you wrote in those notes you left me. Are they?” 
The silence that settled in the space between you pressed against your chest, made even heavier with the weight in Alexia’s eyes. You tore your gaze away from her and you didn’t dare look back up. 
“Look at me and tell me those didn’t mean a thing and I’ll leave.” ‘Just like you left me’, you heard the words Alexia left unspoken and then she continued, “I’ll leave and I won’t bother you again.”
She was serious. You knew if you lied and told her otherwise, she’d keep her word; she’d be out of your life completely. Were you willing to run? Were you ready to live a life without her for good?
Still without meeting her eyes you voiced barely above a whisper, “I… I can’t.”
Then you heard Alexia draw a breath, long and deep, followed by the unmistakable rustle of clothes before the air stilled once more. Not a moment later though a choked sound broke the quiet and immediately, your head whipped to the sound and found Alexia now bent forward, elbows resting on the top of her knees, her head bowed into the cradle of her open palms while her hair formed a curtain around her face. 
“‘What’s happening to me? I’ve not know desire like this–like how it is with you. How, then, can I go on without you now that I found you?’” Each word came out strained as her breath stuttered and yours, too, hitched at what Alexia just recited. Then she lifted her head up a fraction but it was enough for you to see the undisguised pain reflected in those eyes and the sight of them made yours burn. 
“You didn’t even give me a chance. You wrote and left those words to me but what was I supposed to do with them? What was I meant to do?” 
A pause.
“I thought I knew what feeling lost was like. My ACL taught me that and when my father–” Alexia screwed her eyes shut as she drew in a heavy breath. She continued after a moment, “but after you went away, I felt lost again. I didn’t know what to do with myself, didn’t know how or what to feel. All I knew was I was mad at you for leaving, for what you said to me, for not responding… I was hurt. And I felt so empty that I didn’t look through that damn bag you left me.”
“But I missed you. God, I missed you, so I opened it and what did I find? Your fucking notes.” Alexia laughed, flat and void of any warmth, and she shook her head as if in disbelief, digging the heels of her palms into her sockets before looking back at you with raw eyes. “‘With every kiss, every touch, I become more yours. If you ask me to, I will surrender myself to you.’ If you truly meant that, why did you leave?” 
“Won’t you even tell me why?” Alexia repeated, now pleading. 
“I–” You began but the words caught in your throat as you turned her question over in her head because why, why did you leave? 
“I was… I was afraid.” You admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper. 
“Afraid of what?” 
“To hear that I meant nothing to you, to know I felt more for you than you did for me. I was just one of your girls, right?” You laughed bitterly, hating the way tears immediately fell down your cheeks, as you looked over Alexia’s shoulder, unable to look her in the eye as you spoke. You were weak enough as it was, so bare that one word from her could make you bleed if she wanted to.
“I couldn’t bear to hear that from you so I left. And perhaps it was cruel of me to leave those notes behind but I didn’t want to take them with me. I didn’t want the reminder of what we had and what we could’ve been. And I guess, deep down, I just wanted you to know how you made me feel because even if it ended, even if it meant nothing to you, that doesn’t change the fact that you made me happy.”
“‘Nothing?’ What do you mean–” Confusion first swam in her hazel eyes but her eyes suddenly widened. “That day… you were there?”
You hastily wiped your tears away with the back of your hand. “Yes.” 
“Oh my god,” Alexia whispered as she lowered her head even further, fingers digging into her scalp as she shook her head. You heard her mutter something in Catalan that you couldn’t quite understand, barely catching the familiar Spanish words for ‘kill’ and ‘two’ from whatever she said. 
Then Alexia gazed up at you with fire in her eyes. “If what we had meant nothing to me, I wouldn’t be here. Whatever you heard that day, there’s no truth to it.”
“All of it? Then tell me, what did Mapi mean when she said I’m one of your girls?” 
At that, Alexia opened her mouth before closing it again, then she casted her gaze aside. 
Your heart dropped.
She wrung her fingers, the muscle in her jaw ticked while her frown deepened but she found the courage to look you in the eye again as she began to speak. “After I got injured, I was a wreck. It was one of the lowest points of my life. I felt like I was stuck, like my life was playing out in front of me and I couldn’t do anything but watch.”
“The world moved on but I couldn’t. I couldn’t get past it, what happened and what would come after. It was a constant one step forward, three steps back. So I… I slept around because I needed control. I was spiralling when you met me and it’s–it’s true I had others while I was with you.”
Oh, how her words branded you! Perhaps there was still a small part of you that hoped Alexia would deny it but as the words spilled from Alexia’s lips, that vision was immediately dashed and in its place bloomed anguish. Your eyes burnt as you took Alexia in, she–with her lips pressed in a thin line and the corners of them crooked downwards, brows furrowed so deep her eyes were almost covered–looked guilty and in as much pain as you upon her own admittance.
“I had others but not after the first time we had dinner together. At that point, I stopped. I stopped because I hoped… I hoped that we could be more. I still do. But it never meant nothing to me, you never meant nothing to me. I just want you to know that.”
You bit your lip as her words sank in, and your stomach dropped even further as you realised something. The falling out, it was all your fault, wasn’t it? If you’d just talked to her, none of this would’ve happened. 
The silence must had lasted longer than you realised because you heard Alexia’s whispered plea, “please, say something.”
“I… I want nothing more than to be with you, Alexia. In my mind, it had always been you and instead of telling you, I didn’t do anything. I didn’t make my intentions clear and it was unfair of me to expect you to know them. I was going to–I was going to ask you to be mine that night but when I heard you say those words, I lost it.” 
Tears tracked down your cheeks as you choked out, “I’m sorry. I broke us, didn’t I?”
Alexia was quick to answer. 
“No, you were scared and hurting. I can’t hold that against you. And it’s not just you, it’s not like I was very vocal about what I wanted either. I should’ve told you what you meant to me, I should’ve made it clear what I wanted from this–from us.” Alexia looked into your eye with an ardent disposition that made you shiver while a small, hopeful smile graced her lips. “I still want you. If you still want me, have me.” 
Her declaration moved you and this wasn’t the first time tonight that her words made your heart ache–fed fuel to the fire that was your yearning. The temptation to accept her offer was too much but you stopped yourself; the logical part of you who knew that you weren’t the same person as the one Alexia met prevented you from saying yes. 
“I’m not the same person I was from before, Alexia. And I have a child. I don’t want you to trick yourself into thinking you want what comes with me just because you want me.”
“Then let me in! Let me know this version of yourself and don’t decide for me if I want or don’t want to be with you. Let me make that choice this time.” Alexia said, almost exasperated in the way she threw her hands up but desperation weighed heavier in her voice. “We don’t need to label it. You’re mine and I’m yours, isn’t that what matters?”
“And if it doesn’t work out?”
“And if it does? And now that we know what we want from each other, it’s not like how it was before.” Alexia countered easily. Then she added with a half smile, teasing. “C’mon. I thought you’re the optimistic one in this relationship?”
You couldn’t help it, you smiled at her lightness. Then you nodded. 
“Okay. So, can we start over slow?”
“That sounds good.” Then Alexia grinned, mischievous with the way she brushed her thumb over her nose and how her dimple gilded the corner of her lips. “Hi, I’m Alexia. What’s your name?” 
The absurdity of what she said caught you off guard, even more so the laughter that bubbled out from your throat. As your laughter faded and Alexia’s grin dimmed to a small smile, a vacuous silence settled over the both of you, a welcome reprieve from the weight and tension that filled the air moments ago. Your eyes roamed over Alexia’s figure in silent appraisal, and hers over yours, as you mapped the familiar contours of her silhouette. Then you noticed a change in her demeanour: her eyes darkened, a look you were well acquainted with fifteen months–a look that your body remembered all too well with the way your flesh burnt. 
“Did you have others?” The question took you aback and you were sure that you weren’t able to hide the surprise from your face because where the hell did that come from? Still, you indulged her.
“Not in the way you think. I can’t even kiss anyone without thinking of you. It’s not fair to them if I take them on as my lover when I know I’m still hung up on you.”
“‘Still’, huh?” Alexia hummed in response and her gaze only became darker, eyes now lidded.
You scoffed at her arrogance but it lacked any real bite because it was true anyway. Your cheeks warmed at her attention and you crossed your legs, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Alexia–the way she bit her lower lip made it known to you she knew just what she was doing to you–before you casted your eyes aside, down to the floor. “Don’t be an ass about it.” 
At the sound of clothes rustling, you looked back up only to find Alexia had already crossed the distance and now stood an arm’s length away. Your body, always in tune to her presence, parted your legs before you could think better of it and Alexia claimed what little space between you, her knees now against the edge of the chair. 
She planted both hands on either side of your chair’s arms as she leant down, craning her neck so that you could feel the warmth of her breath against your cheek.
“I’m being serious.” 
The words were whispered so close to your lips that you could feel the heat of hers as they brushed over yours. 
“I tried. But you… you had others, didn’t you? I saw the photos.” You tilted your head, relished the way Alexia followed and ghosted over your lips as you did so, whispering the words against her jaw. 
She shivered.
“One. Just the one before I read your notes.” And she leant in again and this time, you could almost taste her lips from how close she was to you. “She never touched me. And besides, who do you think she looked like?”
An image of the woman came to your mind. You didn’t realise it then but now her resemblance to you became apparent: the colour of her hair and the length of it, the colour of her eyes, her height. They were all similar to you.
“But you touched her.” It wasn’t a question and the silence that followed was confirmation enough. You didn’t hold that against her–couldn’t–but it hurt you still. You didn’t even know you’d teared up until Alexia swept her thumb over the corner of your eye, soft and careful; apologetic. And then a fire sparked in you, an all consuming green that prompted you to ghost your lips back to Alexia’s neck. You didn’t miss the way her pulse jumped when you left a light kiss there.
“Tell me, Ale. Did she feel better than me?”
“No,” Alexia choked out and the heat of it warmed your ear.
A kiss to the corner of her jaw. “Did she moan your name like I did?”
“No.”
You placed another kiss to the lobe of her ear before you whispered, low and cruel, and obscenely shameless. 
“Did she come for you like I did?” 
That did it.
Alexia took the back of your head in her hand and pulled you in for a kiss. A soft moan left your mouth–or was it from Alexia–as you surrendered to her heat, melting instantly and lips parting for her and her only. You felt her other hand creep down to the small of your back where she pulled you forward, urging you to stand up. When you did, and without breaking the kiss, Alexia manoeuvred the both of you until you felt the soft texture of the couch against the skin of your calves.
You pulled away with a gasp and before Alexia could upon her eyes, you stepped aside and pushed her just enough for her to end up on the couch, eyes flying in surprise at the sudden change of position. She opened her mouth, as if to protest, but she quickly shut it when you straddled her lap, hands automatically over her jaw and neck as you sank into her lips again. 
Alexia dragged her lips away from yours and you were about to sigh in disappointment until you felt her tracing the lobe of your ear with her tongue. Then she nipped along your jaw as she whispered, a smile clear in her voice, “that’s right… You like being on top.”
You shivered as her hands traced your silhouette but when you felt her hands move from your ass to the edge of your shirt, brushing against the skin of your back with clear intentions, the haze lifted immediately as apprehension filled you. The words didn’t even leave your mouth before Alexia stopped her ministrations, pulling away from your lips gently, and she opened her eyes, which revealed at first the deep desire in them, now replaced with concern as she met your gaze.  
“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”
Shaking your head, you placed a slow, lingering kiss on her lips before you broke away again, breathing heavily as you rested your forehead on hers.
“I’m sorry. And no, you didn’t. It’s not that I don’t want you because I do. God, I want you so much, you don’t even know, but I’m not–I think we’re going too fast and Elisa…” You trailed off, cheeks warming. 
Without another word, Alexia fixed the hem of your shirt so the strip of exposed skin was covered, and placed a tender kiss on your cheek. Then she shifted beneath you, shrugged off her leather jacket and placed it on the coffee table, before she lied down. 
A gentle hand on your back urged you down on her chest and upon doing so, you sighed as a sense of peace washed over you and you found yourself sinking into her tender warmth, into the safety of her arms wrapped around your waist.
She brushed back hair from your temple and you felt the flutter of her hum against your cheek before you heard it. “Are you comfortable?”
The gesture made you ache and you feared your words would fail you if you spoke so you only nodded, nuzzling the column of her neck with your nose and placed a kiss there as a form of gratitude.
Alexia pressed her lips on top of your head and then you heard her sigh, content. “Good.”
492 notes · View notes
cherrirui-official · 3 months
Text
Awe yeah Hitman JD art (+ semi-unrelated doodle bc I wanted to put something over the cut)
Tumblr media
!! Blood warning for the art under the cut !!
Tumblr media
@lemony-and-zesty HI I stumbled upon your Hitman John Dory au while looking at trolls fanart and I'm SO NORMAL abt him!!!! I just had to draw him I hope that's okay
321 notes · View notes
locusfandomtime · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
i hope you guys understand my vision
494 notes · View notes
sas-afras · 2 months
Text
i kinda don’t get people who characterize maccready as like… secretly generous, or having a heart of gold or anything. like don’t get me wrong i don’t think he’s downright malicious or anything, but the dude is absolutely a selfish jerk once you get past the charming facade. that’s the part that’s compelling!
like, he’s nice enough and open enough with the player once you get high enough affinity with him, but his reactions to player actions still point to him being a jerk overall. the sosu just happens to be in His Circle of people he can be vulnerable with. that includes you, his son, and maybe daisy. everyone else can kick rocks, the same way it was in little lamplight
he HAD to grow up with that kind of “us vs the world, every man for himself” mentality in the capitol wasteland. doing so otherwise gets you killed or taken advantage of, which is just protracted death anyways. having grown up in a place where slavers run rampant, people are all pushing each other further down just to boost themselves up and live one more day, and it’s literally impossible to make renewable food sources because the ground is so poisoned i genuinely don’t blame him for ending up a little tight fisted. the fact that he was the mayor of little lamplight just meant that he ended up being able to accept a few people as His To Protect instead of being a total lone wolf.
the way he reacts to the players open generosity isn’t just for show, he Actually Dislikes when you give stuff away without expecting anything in return. you might need that thing and now its just gone!! that person might see you as a sucker! you give an inch and they’ll take a mile! and it makes sense for his character to be like that considering everything. i don’t get why people want to change that into him just being kind of tsundere.
i understand that having your babygirl blorbo comfort character be a canonical asshole in ways that aren’t just kinda charming can be offputting, but like…. the way he treats the sosu is a very notable exception to the rest of his life & it’s a much more interesting dynamic imo. especially if you’re playing a goody two shoes martyr. but that’s just me
225 notes · View notes
cryptcatz · 2 years
Text
i seriously hate when someone is like “well xyx could be related to this mental illness or neurodivergence” and someone feels the need to come in like “well *I* have depression/adhd/am autistic/etc. and i shower consistently, am not messy, understand social cues, am great in school and work, and am overall a functional and ‘normal’ person so it’s no excuse uwu” literally shut the fuck up lmao
like what do you get by shitting on other neurodivergent ppl who struggle more than you do? of course having something like autism isn’t an excuse to do whatever you want with no regards to others, but it can explain why you struggle with other things more so than neurotypicals do. give us a little patience and understanding. don’t act like just because YOU can “overcome” your conditions it means the rest of us are not trying hard enough or are being lazy or whatever.
7K notes · View notes
half-lightl · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Jacob Anderson as Ryan in Skins (2012)
487 notes · View notes
heartorbit · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
the star you've longed for
#PLEASE WATCH REVUE STARLIGHT!!!!!!💥💥💥💥💥#project sekai#revue starlight#pjsk#emu otori#nene kusanagi#emunene#prsk#proseka#yuri win. i make my fav pairing fight tothe death#HAPPY EMUNENE WEEK LOOOOOL#Can i be hinestni think this sucks it took way too long cause i forgot how to draw for a week#im seeing demons and stuff. i feel more normal now. Also you may recall emu has a big hammer for revstar#thats the bottom of it the gem thing all the weapons have hers is sharp#i remember seeing meta post abt how mahiru has a blunt weapon because she never actually aimed for the lead role#rather she only wanted to be by karen's side. so her weapon wasnt capable of cutting anything in the first place#Fastforward to the movie and well LOLLLLL#though i think its funny in the movie her mace is still mostly used for i timidation againstbhikari.. bc again shes not winning for a lead#revue starlight youre neat. maybe i like revstar.#<- has been insane for 4+ years#Needed their pose to be smth where nenes weapon isnt visible because I DONT KNOW WHAT WEAPON TO GIVE HER. OOMFS HELP. I NEED A NENE WEAPON.#i thought some sort of polearm/spear/halberd etc something with range but that can be ambitious#but i feel like smth with that much footwork needed doesnt suit her.. And she cant hsve a sniper i dont think thatwould fucking work#aruru gets pistols in the revue but aruru also is Ummm well shes uhhh. [screaming] [car crash]#throwing knives would be funny wouldnt it. Put that gamer aim to use#idk if the emunene week tag is on here but i'll donit anyways#emuneneweek2024#i remembered to switch which account this pists to for the first time in like 3 pists. so you get to see all my tags this time#rather than accidentally posting it to the wrong account and having to dekete and repost andngoing IM NOT WRITING ALL THAT AGAIN.
202 notes · View notes
lazycranberrydoodles · 10 months
Text
its prosecutor jiang wanyin!!!! oh fuck!!! / gifs + au rambling below the cut / follow for more mdzs x aa crossover stuff :3
all the gifs i made (poses traced off franziska):
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
hes so similar to franziska when you think about it. theyre both deeply insecure tsundere adoptive younger sibling of successful main characters. who carry whips. something something edgeworth choosing death and wwx actually dying also
his share code is HWFEFF if you wanna use him in a trial! you can't share backgrounds but heres the scenery from the donghua i used.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
the easiest way to put custom stuff into objection.lol is to send it in discord and then use the link from opening it in your browser :)
a whole lot of AU stuff
the art im making is for if mdzs was an ace attorney game, playing from WWX's POV to solve various mysteries/cases over the course of the plot. so this scene would be from turnabout goddess, which would loosely cover the dafan mountain mystery.
cases include:
Turnabout Revenge (Mo Manor, quick introductory first case)
Turnabout Goddess (Dafan mountain, the good times flashback)
Turnabout Saber (the man-eating castle (omg hiii nhs))
The Blind Turnabout (Yi City arc)
Turnabout Deviation (the Koi Tower conference, Empathy on NMJ ala turnabout memories or beginnings. opening cutscene is his qi deviation)
The Blood-Soaked Turnabout (second Burial Mounds siege, flashbacks: Xuanwu, Sunshot, YLLZ, Nightless City massacre)
Turnabout Lotus Seeds (testimony about JGY, tree scene, golden core reveal, bathtub scene. opening cutscene could be JGS' death but that would make it canon rather than ambiguous)
Turnabout Confession (Guanyin temple)
the problem with splitting novel!mdzs into turnabouts is that flashbacks are a huge chunk of the book but they don't have mysteries/ cases to solve so they've gotta be lumped together with present day stuff. imo? many of the flashbacks would likely have to be abridged so they could be retold ala DL-6, SL-9, or the fourth grade incident, where characters talk about it over some pieces of art. this is really difficult when theres a metric ton of unspoken, complex, and signifcant history between every character lmao
there's not as much of a problem with the cql timeline but i have not finished it. so.
the opening cutscenes in ace attorney always show the murder and/or the murderer plotting. the first cutscene of the game would be MXY summoning WWX, muttering about getting revenge on his family (it would also be good for him to mention the yllz being dead because that's how the novel starts.) cut to WWX's POV as he wakes up covered in blood and the investigation segment begins.
for investigations of monsters (goddess, saber, etc) the cutscene would be a scene of some poor throwaway cultivator getting their shit wrecked.
it would be cool to make a breakdown for JGY but again I need to review that scene cause I don't know who I'd base him on. maybe Vasquez or Dahlia.
tell me your thoughts!! i'm working off of a mdzs summary/ skimming the novel because i don't remember it too well so if i get anything wrong please yell at me
Jin Ling's sprites & Nie Huaisang's sprites / masterpost
720 notes · View notes
freakartack · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
"...Hello? Ma! I told you not to call me today, I'm making a movie!" -Wario, Mario Power Tennis
The most important lesson from Ma that Wario took to heart was the endless pursuit of cold, hard cash. Unfortunately, the one lesson she could never teach him was the importance of hard work to get it.  It wasn't for lack of trying; Wario's Ma is the hardest worker this side of the Mushroom Kingdom.  Raising Baby Wario was a herculean enough task on its own, but ever the enterprising spirit, she had also set out to grow one of the most profitable crops: garlic.
Her backyard business quickly expanded into a veritable garlic empire. Wario's mother toiled away tirelessly each day from sunrise to sunset to grow and harvest as much garlic as she could possibly achieve.  Much of Wario's current strength and endurance can be attributed to helping his mom on the farm as a child, although the teeth-pulling task of getting him to actually work was almost as difficult as preventing him from eating all the garlic straight out of the ground.  Wario's nose for instant gratification has always been a thorn in his mother's side, but try as she might to instill a solid work ethic into the boy, her "get-rich-slow" schemes could never appeal to him.  Still, Wario enjoyed his surprisingly agrarian upbringing. Along with garlic, his mother also raised chickens for eggs, inspiring in Wario a lifelong soft spot for poultry.  (He also had a pet hamster named Fluffy, who sadly passed away in 1986.)
Today, Wario is still on good terms with his mother despite their physical distance, and frequent phone calls keep her updated on all of Wario's business successes.  Of course, being Wario, he heavily embellishes the amount of work he actually does at his company.  If she only knew...
315 notes · View notes