#its such a buildup volume

[clonerightsagenda]

May I ask what the 'no sex in space' rant is? Zero G sounds like fun :<

The space sex rant is my passion. Possibly because I have no emotional investment in the act so when it gets broken down into weird biology and mechanics by the cruel forces of physics, I find it kind of fascinating.

Sticking this below the cut because it will get long. My primary source is Packing for Mars by Mary Roach, but A City on Mars gets into the same issues. Yes, at least two books have entire chapters devoted to the space sex problem.

Note that this is all assuming microgravity. Many of the problems go away if you have artificial gravity, which we haven't cracked yet beyond building centrifuges. Your Star Trek fanfics are safe. So without further ado, and in no particular order, reasons why you probably shouldn't have sex in zero gravity and it probably wouldn't be that fun if you did:

The infamous 'no boners in space'. Since we're evolved to live in gravity, our bodies compensate for it by putting more effort into getting fluids above our heart. In microgravity, that's unnecessary, so you end up with fluid shift - more fluids, including blood, in the upper body. Your total blood volume also goes down. This would make an erection more difficult, and in fact most astronauts interviewed for whom this would be relevant claimed they didn't get any. The outlier here is Mike Mullane, but having read his memoir, he is the kind of guy who would lie about that. Now, as I touched on while despairingly liveblogging Barrayar, that does not prevent you from having a good time. However less blood flow would presumably mean less sensation in general for anyone below the belt. Or if you stimulated too much blood flow, with the lower total blood volume, perhaps that 'got dizzy because I got horny' joke will actually come true.

In microgravity, body heat and CO2 don't disperse the same way they do in regular atmosphere. Astronauts have to make sure they sleep in well-ventilated areas and are also trained on symptoms of CO2 poisoning. If multiple people are in an area exerting themselves, that buildup will happen faster and would need to be taken into account. It would be super embarrassing to suffocate crammed into a closet for some hanky panky.

The laws of motion are not your friend here. I've seen videos of astronauts pushing themselves across the room with a strand of hair. If you're trying to hold onto someone, you'd either want a relatively small space (maybe not a great idea, see point 2) or hold on really well. One astronaut Mary Roach interviewed suggested duct tape. Perhaps fuzzy handcuffs are critical here. Still you're going to need to put a lot of thought into every move you make.

Space is gross. :( Right now astronauts just wipe themselves down with clothes and dry shampoo. "Skin flakes" is a serious problem. Also we're still not entirely sure why, but astronauts develop awful body odor. According to Mary Roach again, while armpits are famous as a BO source, apparently the crotch is as well, it's just that those regions are typically further from our nose. So idk if anyone's going to want to get that close and personal with anyone else while they're up there. Then again I'm sure people have hooked up in grosser situations.

I'm probably forgetting some tidbits since I just woke up, but in summary, zero gravity sex would need to be carefully choreographed, require some equipment (fan, fasteners), and probably wouldn't even be as enjoyable as its Earthnorm counterpart. It's a good thing that's not what anyone's up there for.

#terrible space facts #does this count as nsfw? idk #talking about sex in a mostly clinical fashion

[shuttershocky]

Do you have a dislike for media universes that "rewards" people for watching/reading all of it in general?

Or do you think there is one that executes that idea well?

I'm answering this 5 months late, but I'm pretty sure I still remember this ask being prompted by a post making fun of the MCU.

Do I dislike story universes that reward people for reading all of it? Not at all. I mean, I'm a fan of both Middle Earth and Star Wars, I fucking love big, big universes with plenty of stories in them. When they intersect in some small way it's a delight to me, I love those little personal winks from the author for having read their other works or recognizing the most obscure names only a nerd would know.

However, there's a difference between a little reference in a story meant for people who can connect the dots, and making something almost required reading for your enjoyment. It's the difference between an acknowledgement from the creators that you liked the setting enough to come back for a new yet familiar ride, and a company realizing they've found their cash cow and can't wait to milk it for all its got until it's dead.

And dead the cash cow will be, eventually. It's been said before that the reason why the Big Two of western comics have ceded more and more ground to manga over the years is that Spider-Man has 10 different starting points while Naruto starts with Volume#1. That's not just a funny joke. Onboarding new readers has genuinely been Marvel and DC's problem for decades, which is why it was both incredibly predictable yet shocking all the same that this is what the MCU turned itself into.

Sure, early on you could ask the audience to watch a couple movies before the big Avengers crossover, but now they've got all these TV shows on top of the movies that you have to watch in order to "catch up", and it's not even about the cool characters anymore. More and more of their fanbase is going to stop caring once the barrier of entry gets too high, and it's ridiculous to me that Marvel went this road with their movies when they know this is what happened to their comics first.

I mean, are you serious, their next big bad is Kang? I am not watching several TV shows and an Ant-Man movie that's somehow worse than the second one all to see how the currently left Avengers meet goddamn Kang the Conqueror. He's in both the TV shows and the movies, which means they're somehow giving Kang more buildup screentime than Thanos. Why? Either I've been extremely out of touch with Marvel comics or the MCU picked a wild choice to headline their next billion dollar franchise when Doctor Doom is actually available to them now and barely needs an introduction.

Sorry, got lost for a bit. Back on topic, yeah I know I know, all art right now exists under capitalism which means every setting that becomes a wider story universe is an author trying to milk their existing fanbase. Whenever a creator makes a thing that I like, and then announces they have a new thing set in the same setting as their first thing but isn't a direct sequel so they can keep gaining a new audience while keeping their existing one, I know I'm being suckered in.

Just, don't make it so blatant. And don't make it so hard. I am the exact target audience for these shenanigans and even I'm starting to feel like it's homework because it's all fucking required now.

If I, a lifelong Star Wars fan, want to watch the newest Star Wars thing, I have to see a hundred hours of other Star Wars media first. If I want to watch The Mandalorian Season 3, I can't just have seen Season 1 and 2, oh no, I have to also see The Book of Boba Fett too, because halfway through that show became The Mandalorian Season 2.5. Well I did see Boba Fett, and the combination of my dislike for turning it into required homework AND the show itself just being kinda dogshit meant I never touched season 3 of the Mandalorian. That show used to be so great because it wasn't tied down to any existing story arcs or characters, so it stood on its own and made for an amazing watch no matter how much Star Wars you've actually seen. And then it succeeded and so had to become the new spine for the entirety of Disney Star Wars afterward. Fuck. Now if I want to watch their latest show Ahsoka, I have to have seen the Clone Wars animated series AND Rebels, because the Rebels cast are in it too! I mean I did see Clone Wars and Rebels, but that still sucks!

That makes me worried now! Andor was also really fucking good and it stood on its own so hard you didn't even need to see Rogue One, the movie that introduced Cassian Andor in the first place. But now that season 1 was a success and everyone sang its praises, it certainly means season 2 is suddenly going to get real cramped with Ahsoka and Luke Skywalker and whatever guys are currently alive in its timeframe. Shit, they're probably gonna add Cal Kestis in season 2 of Andor. The Respawn Star Wars games are still doing their own thing which means it's time to connect to something else.

I hate what all this has become. It was fun to read the Silmarillion and see what kind of fuckery one family of elves got up to that eventually turned Sauron from minion to big evil eye parked next to evil mountain, but you didn't need to read all that before The Lord of the Rings. LOTR didn't assume you knew anything at all (and oh boy did Tolkien never miss an opportunity to explain shit).

Let me repeat. I am the target audience. I live for the ridiculously nerdy habit of reading things set in the same universe as other things and connecting all the dots. If /I/ feel like it's become homework, I can't imagine what the average person thinks of all this. Make it stop. Stop running everything I once loved into the ground in the name of endless profit. Star Wars was already doing this to itself before the Disney acquisition and yet it didn't feel this bad.

#I would take hundreds of disconnected and mediocre Star Wars comics and books made in the Legends era #Over what's happening to it now

[olowan-waphiya]

https://www.yesmagazine.org/environment/2022/07/15/navajo-nation-citizen-science-pollution

Methane pollution is poorly tracked, so Diné activists are monitoring it themselves.

—

From behind her FLIR GF320 infrared camera, Kendra Pinto sees plumes of purple smoke otherwise invisible to the naked eye. They’re full of methane and volatile organic compounds, and they’re wafting out of an oil tank in New Mexico’s San Juan Basin.

Pinto, a member of the Diné (Navajo) community and field advocate with environmental group Earthworks, relies on this device in her fight to keep her community’s air clean. She lives in the Eastern Agency of the Navajo Nation, home to booming oil and gas production.

“When I walk outside, I can’t just think about fresh air. I’m thinking about the VOCs. I’m thinking about the methane that I’m breathing in, because I know what’s out there,” Pinto said. “I see it all the time.”

She’s one of countless citizen scientists across the country who are tracking and reporting environmental harms committed by the oil and gas industry to regulators. And here, there are many: The Environmental Defense Fund estimates that each year, New Mexico’s oil and gas companies emit more than 1.1 million metric tons of methane, a greenhouse gas around 86 times more potent in its warming potential than carbon dioxide over a 20-year period. Much of this comes from wasted natural gas—$271 million of it in this state alone, according to the EDF. It leaks out of faulty equipment and is intentionally expelled through the processes of venting and flaring, in which excess, unrefined natural gas is released or burned from oil wells and refineries to eliminate waste or reduce pressure buildups.

This is bad for the planet—high volumes of methane released into the atmosphere accelerate the pace of the climate crisis. It’s also bad for the people who live around it who are exposed to the pollutants that typically come along with methane emissions, like benzene, a carcinogen, and PM2.5 and PM10—particulate matter small enough to get lodged deep in the lungs. Pinto said her neighbors experience disproportionately high rates of headaches, nosebleeds, allergies, and respiratory issues, like sinus and throat discomfort.

“I think the scariest thing about methane is it’s odorless,” Pinto said. “It’s a silent killer. And if my neighbors are breathing it in, that’s worrisome.”

These emissions and the fossil fuel development that causes them have long been “insufficiently regulated,” said Jon Goldstein, senior director of regulatory and legislative affairs at EDF. In 2020, then-president Donald Trump rolled back Obama-era regulations on methane that effectively eliminated the requirement that oil and gas companies monitor and repair methane leaks in their infrastructure.

The Senate voted to reinstate them in April 2021, and last November, the Biden administration announced it would introduce even more comprehensive regulations in an interagency effort to crack down on emissions from the oil and gas sector. As part of the plan, the Environmental Protection Agency proposed its own rules, which include a requirement that states reduce methane emissions from thousands of sources nationwide, and a provision that encourages the use of new technology designed to find major leaks. A final methane rule is expected to be implemented later this year.

The Navajo Nation, too, is taking things into its own hands: The Navajo Nation Environmental Protection Agency is currently considering adopting a permitting program to regulate methane from oil and gas development on its land.

Here, methane emissions from oil and gas companies are 65% higher than the national average, seeping out of pipelines, oil rigs, and the like. The San Juan Basin, some 150 miles northwest of Santa Fe, has received a failing grade from the American Lung Association for ozone pollution, or smog, the result of the combination between VOCs and radiation from sunlight.

Exposure to ozone has been tied to degraded respiratory health and asthma attacks, and it’s typically seen in cities, Goldstein said.

“The San Juan Basin isn’t home to large cities,” he said. In San Juan County, ozone is the result of the widespread build-out of oil and gas wells; approximately half of the county’s 50,000 residents who identify as Indigenous live within half a mile of those wells, according to EDF.

Catching emissions at the source will be crucial to changing this legacy. And where regulators can’t (or won’t) step in, residents like Pinto are. The federal government is now relying upon community monitoring, or work that citizens do to contribute to public understanding of the scope of air pollution near fossil fuel sites, a development that Eric Kills A Hundred, tribal energy program manager at EDF, believes will be “huge.”

The EPA’s methane proposal includes a plan to implement a program to “empower the public to detect and report large emission events for appropriate follow-up by owners and operators,” according to an agency news release.

During the comment period for the EPA’s proposed community monitoring program, members of the petroleum industry questioned whether the agency has the authority to establish it at all, primarily objecting to the idea that air quality monitoring be conducted by entities other than agencies and producers themselves, E&E News reported​​ in May.

But Pinto said groups like Earthworks have a track record of doing this work long before federal regulators began tapping them for their data collection.

“Documenting these types of emissions is important because no one else is really doing it,” she said. “Even the agencies that are regulating this type of thing. Because we’re in a rural area, what can they actually capture when they come out here? Are they going to more than 100 sites?”

Kills A Hundred said these efforts are not only about what the Navajo Nation can contribute to government data on methane pollution, they’re also about empowering the community to play a role in stopping it.

“Having been the stewards of the land for so long,” he said, “it’s just so important for these communities to be active and raise their voice.”

#indigenous #native american #climate crisis #methane #fossil fuels #greenhouse gas emissions #navajo #dine #diné #navajo nation #epa #environmental action #pollution #science

[mysteryfleshpit]

Q&A 005

@shnowyfox asked:

Where do you find so many of these artifacts relating to the park's history? And have you ever found artifacts that may have been from before Jim found the pit? (Like things from the native American tribes and whatnot?)

A few years ago, I forget now how many, I came into possession of a small storage building previously owned by a local community college. What I have posted has largely come from this scattered and disorganized collection of items and documents. As far as I have looked I have not found many artifacts from before the “discovery” of the pit by James Jackson.  

@bub14dog-blog asked:

How does the Pit stay hydrated? And does the Pit seem to have a urinary system?

The Superorganism shares an adjacency to both the Edwards and Ogallala Aquifers, which Geobiologists speculate supply most of the water needs of the organism. However, it is worth noting that the Superorganism appears to have a high hydration retention rate with minimal water loss for its size. Much of the internal water volume is located in the chemical composition of the fluid found within the Gastric Seas, or within smaller but nonetheless massive water bladders which seem to provide reserves of fresh water for the biological process of the Superorganism.

Urine, or other identifiable forms of liquid waste, are probable but as-yet undocumented. The unique geobiology of the Mystery Flesh Pit suggests a complex metabolic cycle in which typical waste materials (namely minerals) are broken down and sequestered for use in other parts of the anatomy instead of totally expelled.

@love-abandon asked:

have you recovered any information regarding the state of the mystery flesh pit during the 90's?

Most of what we know about the pit comes from the 1990s, as that decade is widely considered the “golden age” of the park. From 1989 until around 2002, the park experienced yearly visitor throughput comparable to regional tourist destinations like SeaWorld or the Magic Kingdom. While the bulk of infrastructure development and construction took place in the early 1980s, the 1990s saw massive public and private investment in such infrastructure, including the Intrapark Resort and the renovations to both the Lower and Upper Visitor Centers. If there was a time to have gone to the Mystery Flesh Pit National Park to experience it at its best, it would have been the mid 1990s.

@joebob6448 asked:

Have there been any occurrences of ecological interactions between the creatures which live within the superorganism and ones outside of it besides amalgamations? For example, predation, parasitic, or even non-mutagenic symbiotic relations?

It is now well-known that many of the parasitic species within the Permian Basin Superorganism routinely surfaced and hunted small wild and domesticated animals, with some reports dating back to the mid-1800s. Even with the intervention of Texas state Fisheries and Wildlife personnel, as well as interventions from the National Park Service, it continues to be a minor problem in the areas surrounding surface orifices. Prior to the introduction of European cattle and other livestock to Texas, however, it is unknown to what extent this sort of scavenger hunting took place.

@goblinus-maximumbo asked:

How does Corpusite form? Also what's Oscuralite and why is Anodyne mining for it?

Photograph of an operating mining team clearing out fluid buildup.  Oscuralite is the mineralogical name given to “black bone”, so named due to its incredibly dark coloring. This coloring is the result of a dense concentration of microscopic, helically-oriented carbon strands. Oscuralite occurs within the center of certain mineral bone structures within the Superorganism and are theorized by Venteriologists to function as a rigid reinforcement or “primary skeleton” to complement the more conventional (if not enormous) skeletal system which serves as a more pliable, “secondary” skeleton. Oscuralite exhibits a range of incredible material properties, such as structural rigidity higher than steel, a strength-to-weight ratio fifty times higher than titanium, thermal insulation capabilities greater than that of aerospace-grade ceramic composites, all while having a mass of less than 730 grams per cubic meter of material. Corpusite, or “Pearls”, as they are often referred to in the industry, are nacreous mineral formations which nearly always exhibit exceptionally-perfect spherical geometry. Due to the sub-molecular spherical tolerance that Corpusite spheres demonstrate, they have become invaluable as precision components in certain optical and measurement applications. Additionally, the near-complete uniformity of the crystalline structure which comprises the spheres has exhibited a secondary (though arguably more valuable) property of superconductivity at a temperature range of -38°C to over 1100°C. These spheres are commonly found in loose clusters within specialized tissue structures within the Superorganism, and are believed by venteriologists to be formed through a nacreous aggregation of discrete, though structurally-identical layers. The exact venterial function of Corpusite, as well as the organs which produce the material, is hypothesized to serve some role in the coordination of the nervous system of the Superorganism, but this is still poorly understood.

@ansalander asked:

Is there a wedding chapel?

And

@247slayc asked:

reactivated and rebranded this account just to ask has there ever been a wedding at the park before its defunction?

Yes, many marriages were officiated (and subsequently consummated) around and within the Mystery Flesh Pit National Park. For reasons understood neither to myself or the U.S. Dept. of the Interior, the park was a popular nuptial destination. Within the Lower Visitor Center itself was an interfaith chapel which could be rented for wedding ceremonies with a small deposit. Additionally, due to a pre-NPS contractual clause requiring an ordained ecclesiastical minister to be on-site within the LVC during operating hours, officiation of wedding ceremonies was also a limited service offered. The addition of several hospitality facilities in the late 1980s to the park only increased the annual instances of weddings and on-site receptions. The Hilton Intrapark Resort even openly advertised wedding packages.

@jurassicateer asked:

Mystery Flesh Pit National Park Tycoon video game?

Frontier Developments, Colossal Order (or anyone, really!), my DMs are open. If you guys want it to happen, you'll have to let the world know. The same goes for a TV show/Film/miniseries/Chili's promotional tie-in. @bearb0i asked:

So I HAVE to ask— The Bronchial Forests, I noticed there were a few enclosed restrooms. I wonder, is there any information on where and what they did with human waste inside the park, especially in a system like lungs?

Restrooms within the park (both those found within larger structures like ranger stations as well as stand-alone restroom structures along trails) all feature active plumbing connections for wastewater removal as well as freshwater supply. Strict guidelines regarding policies for waste disposal within the venterial environment had been in place from the beginning of federal management of the park in the late 70s. A complex system of pumps and lifting stations collected wastewater before transporting it to a water treatment & reclamation facility adjacent to the support plant on the surface.

@bub14dog-blog asked:

Have any discoveries been made about the Dermal Layer?

As discovered during surface borehole drilling operations, the typical dermal thickness of the Superorganism is much greater than the entry orifice zones would otherwise seem to indicate. On average, the outer layer of the Superorganism consists of several dozen layers of dynamically-oriented cartilage plates, interlaced with dense networks of carbon-rich connective tissues which brings the overall average thickness to well over 300ft. Diamond-embedded carbide bits were required to successfully drill through this outer carapace, but the process was tedious and costly as it necessitated the sacrifice of multiple tooling bits and weeks of labor to bore a single 6” hole.

@rin-aldrin asked:

Has anything resembling ambulatory organs or limbs been discovered at the edges of the Superorganism? If not are there any theories of how it would move if/when it wakes up.

Yes. These “limbs” are responsible for bioseismic movements monitored by the United States Geological Survey. Because of this movement, more is generally known about the gross anatomical form of this part of the Superorganism than sections above or below these limbs, though geobiologists have known for decades that the organism consists of a large “mantle” which sits above the five primary limbs. Below is an artist's rendition of what the Permian Basin Superorganism might look like if it ever became fully active and ambulatory:

Artist’s depiction of a fully ambulatory Immanis colosseus. 

@schwulerschmetterling asked:

I couldn't help but notice on the map, and now I'm quite curious. What is the "hall of horrors"? Judging by the fact that it's on an un-reinforced trail and isn't marked as park infrastructure  suggests it's  a natural  formation. Also, it seems to be marked as an area to be quiet. What exactly is it?

It's no mistake that there isn't much information to be known about the “Hall of Horrors”. To even get there required a very strenuous hike by experienced, adventurous visitors. Perhaps in an attempt to preserve the mystique of the area, all who have seen it politely refrain from describing it in any meaningful way, insisting instead that it should be experienced in-person.

@darbussy asked:

Does the pit have teeth or does stuff fall down to get digested by the acids in the stomach?

While lifeforms have fallen into entry orifices shortly before being consumed, venteriologists believe this is more of a response to accidental incursion of foreign wildlife than a deliberate feeding mechanism. Instead, scientists have observed that the Superorganism requires a relatively small amount of organic tissue matter for its day-to-day metabolic processes. However, the volume of organic tissues “in reserve” required to sustain this leads many venteriologists to speculate that the Superorganism operates on extremely long feeding cycles many hundreds of millions of years in length. Fossil & bone evidence found within the gastric systems of the Pit supports a theory that the Superorganism was aquatic at a previous point in its life, and utilized an as-yet-unknown feeding mechanism to filter an entire ocean out of its large, tissue-rich organisms through this mechanism and into digestion and storage organs. This is also the working hypothesis for the prehistoric whale carcass found within the park.

@lagartija-69 asked:

What would happen if you filled a dump truck full of red bull or something and put it in the pit?

If the scale of the containment operations are any indication, I would imagine that you could dump a hundred dump trucks' worth of red bull into the Mystery Flesh Pit and might not receive any satisfactory response.

@mooncandy10101 asked:

Would you think the park could ever reopen?

Of course, I think it is inevitable unless it kills us all first.

@vv-i-o-l-e-tt asked:

Purely out of curiosity is there any particular reason that cave cooper the mascot so closely resembles that orange devil of home improvement, Homer the Home Depot mascot guy

If I had to speculate, I would guess that an untalented hack illustrator, beleaguered with the task of coming up with a silly looking mascot over a short period of time (say, for example, a lunch break), did the lazy thing and just traced an existing silly looking mascot. But no one knows for sure.  

stinkw333d asked:

does the creature have a singular heart? or is it multiple smaller systems throughout the body like the nervous system/brain?

The vascular systems of the Superorganism are distributed in a way similar to the nervous system, though not as neatly organized. The Flesh Pit contains many separate but interdependent circulatory systems. This diagram may be helpful:

bandit--6 asked:

Was there ever any protest or push back from Animal rights groups or environmentalist after the discovery of the pit? I've read through the blog and haven't seen talk of any such event, I may have missed it. Part of me can just see them trying to keeping the equipment from entering.

There were in the late 1970s, though such efforts were and continued to be uncoordinated. It's worth noting that the exact nature of the Mystery Flesh Pit was not well known by the general public, and many did not view it as an “animal” at all. The fractured and sporadic nature of what protests did occur largely led to a decreasing awareness until post-2007, when the issue received substantially more attention.

anonymous asked: 

Were there any plans to expand the park further or do any other crazy things like the resort in the gastric sea?

In the early 2000s there was an effort to open a “2nd gate” at one of the entry orifices that was much closer to the Midland/Odessa metropolitan area. Guests would have descended the entry orifice via an articulated elevator to a second Lower Visitor Center. A high-speed monorail would have connected this second resort to the main National Park complex, but the project never made it beyond the concept phase. 

@arcticsirius asked:

If the moving of flesh is such an issue, would it be possible to make a base inside a bone-structure of the organism or have bones not been found as of yet?

One of the main principles in venterial engineering is the establishment of anchor points wherever possible. For this reason, many larger pieces of infrastructure (ranger stations, utility facilities, mining facilities) are built within/near skeletal or other rigid tissues. Additionally, it is essential that any venterial survey conducted of an area of the fleshscape have at least three reference points on/within a bony or rigid tissue body by which to gauge movement of the surrounding viscera.

@a-gucci-household asked:

Can we hear more about the “Marrow Folk”? What cause this rumor to pop up? Is there any substance to these claims?

@scarfanon asked:

Given that the Permean Basin Superorganism was discovered by accident during a mining excavation, is it possible that more than one of these creatures exist?  Perhaps one was responsible for the Bloop recording, or may be lying dormant within the Yellowstone supervolcano.

This was an issue of concern in the years following the discovery, but no evidence of another Superorganism, or at least no evidence of one anywhere close to the size of the Permian Basin Superorganism, has been located domestically or abroad.

@eldritchdraaks asked:

What quarter of 2022 or even 2023 can the MFP book be potentially expected to be made available to the public?

And @bigorangemooseman asked:

Progress on the book? And where one would be able to purchase?

Early-to-mid 2023 is a generous date that I aim to have something out by, but as I am attempting to publish the book traditionally, this of course will most likely change. I am still in the process of finishing the writing portion for the book, so I have not yet formally reached out to any literary agents or publishers, but will update my progress when I begin that process on my Patreon page.

#mystery flesh pit #mystery flesh pit national park #worldbuilding #text #lore #cosmic horror #body horror #unreality #horror art #horror worldbuilding

[gayofthefae]

Still recovering from the fact that season 4 even happened.

Season 4 episode 2 occurred. Mike couldn't hug Will or write the word "love" to his girlfriend in the same scene. He defended the nature of his and Will's relationship to Will.

He spent the entire season with Will, often isolated from the others in their group, and separated from the main plot for an exclusively person one. Remember our confidence after volume 1 on the outcome - because the nature of both plots was a build up NOT paid off - because the buildup itself WAS there. The lack of payoff does not undo that.

We have 6 episodes of buildup for Mike and Will (they weren't in episode 7, but I am including episode 1 for its painting comment and general Will queerness) followed by 2 of subversion that still ended with them on that hill together. When it cut to them, before even cutting to the other couples, my mom laughed the way you do in a single loud sound you can't keep in, and she was right. That shot was "Byler against the world".

Season 4 happened. Maybe Byler wasn't definitively canon in season 3, but season 4 informed that in retrospect. Will is canonically gay with feelings for Mike, people. I used to be GA, so I know damn well that after episode 1, it still could have been just gay. After season 3, it still could have been neither.

They wrote season 4. That happened. I feel like we've all adjusted to it too well. Frogs in boiling water but the water is boiling for tea and the tea is still SCORCHING hot, don't you forget.

#stranger things #byler #byler canon #the duffer brothers #like they literally did that #every scene i could not believe my eyes until i just settled into #and was jolted back out in volume 2 so abruptly before settling back in #it is so friggin wild dude #they wrote 9 whole episodes about those boys #they did not in the slightest have to do that

[rizahcwkeye]

Royai fic recommendations in honor of Royai Week 2023!

Just wanted to share some of my all-time favorite complete M and E-rated Royai fics on AO3 ever since getting into the fandom last May 2021. I have a very specific taste (??) in how I envision Royai’s dynamic when they get together, and these fics personally just NAILED it. Like I cannot stress enough how every Royai fan should read these! Without further ado...

Starve the Ego, Feed the Soul by onthearrow (95k words, E)

“Something has changed between them since the Promised Day.”

This has to be my all-time favorite. Like it’s a bit insane how good this fic is. Roy and Riza pining for each other ... in the most pathetic horny manner. Also the smut here... will leave you a bit gagged, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever read before. The author definitely did not hold back LMAO. So many moments in this fic where I had to put my phone down a bit just because I was so 😳😳😳 They have two complete Royai fics (including this one) and there’s one on the way for Royai Week 2023. I recommend to read all of it.

morning sun by hot_girl_burner_account (7.5k words, E)

“Roy walks Riza home after a wedding, and she's wearing this dress, and he might as well come up for some tea, and it's getting late, and the roads are icy, and they both run out of excuses.”

OH MY GOD if you’re looking for a fic set sometime after the promised day where Roy and Riza are just waiting for the ball to drop and immediately give in, this is it. The buildup, the context of being after a wedding.. the amount of flirting beforehand..like I know they were gonna fuck but the banter actually made me say OMG JUST FUCK!!! A sweet lil’ one shot that makes you want more.

the secret is to swallow / without expecting hunger to disappear by lantur (45k words, M)

“The fact that Hawkeye is Roy's subordinate is actually the least of his concerns. The least of the reasons why Roy keeps his distance, outside of their working relationship. It is difficult to keep his Lieutenant at arm’s length when all he wants to do is drag her closer and closer to him, pull her deeper into his orbit, but it has to be done.”

Am I the only one who loves it when Roy is pining and jealous and pathetic and he thinks his feelings are one-sided? Well, if you do too, this fic is perfect. Like... omg you’re so dumb Riza loves u !! Also I love that this is written in Roy’s POV

Once by TheFledglingDM (73k words, M)

“It was a longing like obsession, like madness, a yearning down to the bones. Once, he pleaded. Once, she prayed. Just once and I can move on. _ or - riza and roy's relationship over the years. covers childhood, ishval, the series, and post-promised day.”

HHHHHHHHH oh my god.... this fic... I read its entirety in one night! It’s basically a faster retelling of the events of FMAB except it’s entirely in Royai POV where they’re crushing and horny for each other (to specifically TASTE each other). This fic also would have an award if I gave out an award for Most Reread First Kiss, because yes it was THAT good.

First by TheFledglingDM (4.4k, E)

““So, Roy, I was thinking.” Riza said, as straightforward as if this were just another day at the office. Roy tried to speak but could barely produce volume. All he could manage was, “Uh-huh?” “We should have sex now,” Riza told him.”

Set immediately after Once by the same author. This is just sooo... exquisite I fear... Roy is so eager to please and honestly I get him! This can be read as a separate one-shot but honestly the 73k buildup in Once just makes the reading experience for this fic just 100x better

darker than the ocean, deeper than the sea by yourendlessblue (8.9k, E)

She looks up, and meets his eyes, blinking wide at him and demurely smiles, putting on a silent show. There’s power in this, she thinks, that she can affect him practically just by existing.

“Sir?”

“Havoc’s going to pick you up to our room,” he says, perfectly composed and prim. “I’ll see you.”

Roy is a sugar daddy. They both have feelings but they don’t talk about it they just have sex LOL. The way I wish this had a prequel and a sequel!! One of those rare AUs that just makes you want more!!! I WAS LEFT HANGING!! (not really but you get my point)

let’s fantasize from the other end of the line by lantur (10.8k, M)

“Riza receives a late-night phone call from Roy.”

This fic is soooo sensual. They both know what they’re doing is wrong on so many levels but neither of them ever address it so they CAN’T seem to stop. Also the work that lantur has done for the Royai community should be applauded LMAO if I wasn’t trying to keep this list short I would link all of their fics here. 

can we always be this close by lantur (10.9k, M)

“Roy sits in the spot Riza remembers as his favorite, too - in the armchair facing the entrance. He rises as soon as she walks in, striding toward her. “Thanks for joining me tonight, Lieutenant.”

It is silly, but Riza’s heart leaps at the sight of him. He looks pleased to see her, too. “Reginald?” She raises an eyebrow. “Really, Colonel. Could you have picked a stuffier alias?”

Roy and Riza have a rendezvous, or two, during the months of separation leading up to the Promised Day.”

OK LAST LANTUR REC (and last fic for this list) but oh god... this is so sweet and tender and UGH... that first kiss made me feel so warm!!! this fic is more emotional than horny.. but it’s so well done!

HOPE YALL ENJOY AS MUCH AS I DID !

#royai #royai week 2023 #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #royai fic #fmab #fma

[jazzymusicorn28]

I'll never get over the impacts volume 3 had on Bumbleby as well as Yang and Ruby, specifically its impacts on their interactions in this scene in the volume 6 finale, it's just so goodddddd

In the volume 3 finale, we see Blake as she's profusely apologizing, saying "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry", directed towards Yang. Blake's incredibly sorrowful for the pain she thinks she inflicted upon Yang, despite that she wasn't at fault for the loss of Yang's arm. Yang's physically weak in this moment because of her arm injury, and can't help Blake while she's spiraling. She can't reach out to Blake and tell her it wasn't her fault, that she still cares about her and will be there for her. Yang just lays there, painfully half-conscious, as one of the people she loves the most takes the blame for something that wasn't her fault and endlessly self deprecates. Blake feels like she's a burden to Yang in this moment, and the buildup of her negative feelings here lead her to her run away not long after this scene transpires. And Yang bears witness to it all in her half-conscious state, making it all the more painful to her.

At this moment in the v3 finale, Ruby doesn't know how to react because of the panic and shock in the situation. She reaches her arm out to comfort Blake or Yang, but ultimately doesn’t act to comfort either of them, despite her grief. Making her feel all the worse after Blake ran away at the end of v3, since she could have possibly comforted Blake, but she didn't because of the situation at hand and her indecisiveness at expressing her feelings.

In the volume 6 finale, Blake again apologizes to Yang by saying "I'm so sorry". She begins to further apologize and spiral, like a certain prior moment, but this time, Yang reaches out to her and comforts her. She reassures her that the pain inflicted by Adam this time around (nor the first time) was never her fault, and she goes out of her way to show her physical affection, reaching BOTH of her arms out to Blake, as Blake did to her when she was hurting in the v3 finale. Yang reassures Blake she's not a burden, and provides the support and words of reassurance she was unable to the first time.

In this scene, Ruby comforts Blake, hugging her without a second thought, showing her the affection she wanted to express the first time but didn’t know how to. She doesn't exhibit any indecisiveness, and knows exactly what Blake needs, showing Ruby's growth and willingness to reassure Blake after what happened last time.

In the v6 scene, Yang and Ruby both get to express their true feelings towards Blake that they've wanted to since (and in) v3. Here they reflect how their relationships with Blake have grown, and their willingness to reassure Blake that she belongs with them and is a beloved member of the team. It's just. So sweet. :,)

#rwby #rwby analysis #ruby rose #yang xiao long #blake belladona #blake belladonna #bumbleby #yang x blake #rwby v3 #rwby v6 #rwby volume 6 #rwby volume 3 #team rwby #my post #longish post #mine

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 29/09/2023

I Saw a Brainwasher Today

Season 1 Featured on: GilvaSunner's Highest Quality Video Game Rips: Volume FOUR HOURS! Also on: PC Master Rips

Ripped by Xarlable

It shocked me to realize that, four months into this blog's lifespan, I've still barely touched the SiIvaGunner channel's first big story event - Season 1's Reboot. To many, myself included, it was a turning point for how they consumed the channel: It escalated the channel from a joke or a one-trick pony into something truly worth taking seriously, with an ongoing narrative and stakes at play that many of us didn't even realize were possible.

So lets set the stage, briefly. We're about four months into the SiIvaGunner channel's life in 2016, and most things are proceeding just as they always have. Funny Flintstones! Funny mashups! Funny screams and funny melodyswaps, a grand ol' time all around. Yet one type of joke in particular - inserting Snow Halation from Love Live into various rips - has been receiving pushback from the audience at large as apparent by the dislikes and comments left on videos. So things are proceeding smoothly, most people are content, yet...there's a sort of unrest bubbling underneath it all, a rift between SiIvaGunner and its audience, between what the people behind the channel want to do and what the audience wants to receive. After a long buildup, the camel's back snaps in two, and the Reboot commences - in direct response to the neverending bitterness of those against Snow Halation's inclusion on SiIvaGunner as a whole.

The Reboot was simple in concept - the in-universe entity that runs the channel runs into a fatal error and restarts itself, only "refreshing" all of its jokes in the process with similar-enough equivalences. The Flintstones theme is replaced with The Simpsons theme - the "loudest orgasm" scream is replaced with the Howie Scream - Love Live's presence on the channel is replaced with IDOLM@STER, and so on and so forth. Even without the story videos laying things out and introducing us to The Voice Inside Your Head, the Reboot's statement was clear - as soon as SiIvaGunner stops doing what its team is passionate for in order to appease its fans, things *will* go awry. Being part of the community at the time (as a very new member right before the Reboot) was simultaneously enlightening and absolutely insane - we KNEW what we as a collective had done to deserve The Reboot, yet we had no idea what it would lead to or how to stop it. Needless to say, everything was pure chaos - SiIvaGunner had officially gripped me with its narrative and I was all in.

And that chaos is really why I picked I Saw a Brainwasher Today as today's feature. Compared to what we had before the Reboot, its so starkly different in style - its far removed from the typical Nintendo music that gave the channel its identity, its tone is chaotic and noisy due to the two songs mashed up, and neither of those songs had any presence on SiIvaGunner beforehand. Sure, in today's landscape its a pretty simple mashup of two similar-sounding themes, but its context painted such a different picture: it was the perfect instillation of everything the Reboot entailed and all the emotions we felt during it. Deep in the mix you can faintly hear the screams of some old SiIva memes, which adds tremendously to the atmosphere described - its a rip that's just flatly impossible to divorce from its original context.

And yet...here I am, sort of presenting the rip to you outside of that context. Hrm.

This blog's a tricky thing, huh?

#todays siivagunner #season 1 #siivagunner #siiva #Xarlable #Youtube #Bandcamp #daft punk #portal #portal 2 #wheatley #glados #portal game #portal chell #valve #valve games #human after all

[russellrustles]

Showbiz, Baby - Chapter 3

a/n: and it’s finally here… and it’s getting a little more convoluted… I must admit that I quite enjoyed writing this chapter. The usual thanks go out to @f1tingz for being a fabulous proofreader (and for threatening me whenever I stopped writing).

warnings: recreational drinking, swearing, flashback and description of a (racing related) crash, hospitals, mentions of (nearly) vomiting, a bit of a smutty buildup

word count: 9.1k

masterlist

showbiz, baby playlist

(adding some George tags once again because the first half features a lot of platonic George)

——————————

The hardwood floor of your apartment does a good job at sucking any of the final dregs of warmth and content out of you. Late afternoon sunlight illuminates the London skyline and filters in through the windows, but its steadily weakening rays do nothing but gradually drop your home into increasing darkness.

Sitting on the floor like a dejected child, you open the guitar case and lift up the acoustic guitar by the neck. The dying rays give the deep cognac a fiery tint, but the longer you look at the guitar, the further and further away your thoughts drift from London, and the closer they get to Monaco.

Against your will, they take you back to all the evenings spent with you sitting on the floor and Charles on the piano stool, producing a bizarre, sometimes grating, sometimes mellow array of music. The oddity of the combination of the two instruments hadn’t bothered you in the slightest - all that you had cared about was that you had played together, as one, and had fun whilst doing so.

Shaking your head free of the thoughts, you rise to your feet and move to the spare room in which you hold the more miscellaneous parts of your life. You unceremoniously (yet still respectfully) place the acoustic on a stand amongst a rather hefty collection of guitars. If it will only bring back bittersweet memories, then you can leave it here to face them another day, when you’ll be more ready to accept what had happened and move on.

But deep down, you know damn well that wallowing in your own self-pity is the only thing you’re capable of achieving right now.

You scold yourself mentally, acknowledging how pathetic it must all seem from an outside perspective. Shouldn’t you be getting your life together, rebuilding yourself as an individual?

The familiar, yet unwelcome, ring of the doorbell forces you to leave the room and walk towards the door. You’re expecting an unpleasant confrontation, most likely somebody from a nearby apartment complaining about the volume of your music or the scraping of you moving your furniture around whilst impulsively remodelling your living space.

Instead, upon opening the door you find Gabi and George, both looking far too hyper considering the time of day. They’re not wearing casual outfits either - Gabi’s wearing a short, merlot-coloured dress that compliments her black hair whilst George is in a shirt and jeans that you specifically recognise as being some of his ‘going out’ clothes.

Oh no.

“Well, hello, hello!” Gabi beams, barging past you and into your home, already rushing over to the kitchen presumably to grab a drink or snack. George just gives you a small shrug as he walks past before following Gabi into the kitchen.

After having shut the front door, you make your way into the kitchen as well, observing the two of them pouring themselves glasses of juice and grabbing some snacks from the cupboards. Something like this isn’t a particularly uncommon occurrence for the three of you; however, you usually would have received a bit more prior notice.

“So, did you come over for any particular reason other than plundering my kitchen?” you ask eventually once they seem satisfied with their stolen collection of crisps, dried fruits and biscuits.

“We’ve come for a very good reason, now get to the bedroom,” Gabi replies, striding past you once again with George in tow as she heads towards your bedroom with her loot.

Slightly confused by what’s occurring, you attempt to add some humour to the situation, “Shouldn't you take me out to dinner first?”

“Hurry up!” George yells from the bedroom, clearly unentertained, and you don’t really have any other options than to cave in to their demands.

They’ve laid all the snacks out at the end of the bed and their drinks are on the nightstands. George sits on the bed, propped up against a pile of pillows against the headboard whilst Gabi is already rummaging through your dresser seemingly searching for something, but ruining your strictly-organised clothes instead.

“Can either of you please just explain what you’re doing?” you sigh, exasperated.

Gabi finally finds your stash of dresses, digging some out and chucking them onto the bed, before turning around to face you. “You made me cancel the birthday party plans after that France fiasco,” she begins, pointing a finger at you, “But that doesn’t mean that you get to sit around all depressed. We’re going out for some overdue celebrations, so pick a dress and get going.”

“You can’t be serious,” you mumble. Quite honestly, you had been aiming to do nothing until your next race, so this sudden upheaval of your plans is coming much to your distaste.

“She is very much being serious,” George responds, still sprawled out across the majority of your bed, “Now try some dresses on before we run out of time. You can start with that pink one.”

Groaning, you roll your eyes and snatch the dress from the bed, petulantly stomping into the en-suite bathroom. Slamming your phone onto the countertop, you begin stripping your clothes off and putting the dress on. It’s a blush pink bodycon dress, with nothing particularly special to it, but at the end of the day a dress is a dress.

Taking a deep breath, you open the door and walk back into your bedroom. Your posture is undoubtedly atrocious as you awkwardly stand before your miniature audience, wishing that you could just hunker down under a pile of blankets and watch films all night long.

Gabi and George are both reclined on your bed, sharing a pack of crisps, and irritating the hell out of you when you start thinking about how many crumbs they’ll be leaving behind. They look you up and down, and Gabi is the first to speak, “Next. This one just doesn’t have the razzle dazzle.”

“Alright you diva,” you laugh, before yelping as George throws an black dress with gold accents at you and it hits you in the face. You facetiously flip him off before scurrying off to the bathroom again.

This time when you’re about to leave, hand already on the door handle, your phone begins to ring. You turn around and pick it up, deciding that a few more minutes of waiting won’t hurt Gabi or George. However, upon checking the caller ID, your heart sinks.

Charles ❤️

You’re going to have to change that.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the screen, debating whether talking to him is a good idea or whether it’d throw your mental state back to square one. After a few more seconds, you close your eyes and accept the call.

“I know you probably don’t want me calling you, but this is urgent,” he blurts out, his mellifluous accent slightly distorted over the phone in a way that makes it lose its familiarity.

“What are you on abou-“

“What’s taking you so long?” Gabi hollers from the other side of the door, knocking a few times to get your attention. You panic, gasping and hanging up before dropping the phone back onto the counter, feeling like a teenager who’s about to be busted for stealing alcohol.

A pang of regret shoots through you as you head towards the door and open it. What if Charles is being serious, and something has actually happened? Surely if you had made it clear that you no longer want anything to do with him, he wouldn’t be contacting you unless it truly is an emergency.

Gabi examines you for a second, before giving her opinion, “I like this one, this one’s good.” The two of you look over at George who’s tapping away at something on his phone. Gabi sighs, grabbing a hairbrush from the top of your dresser and chucking it at George with terrifyingly precise aim, sending the man hurtling off the bed not from the force of the impact but from the sheer shock of being hit square in the chest.

You try your best to stifle your giggles as his head pops up from behind the bed, and he quickly looks you over before raising a weak thumbs up, “Nice dress.”

“Wonderful!” Gabi exclaims, clapping excitedly, “You go get your shoes on, I’ll grab your stuff.” You nod and leave the bedroom, George standing up from the floor and following you out. Wordlessly, you both put your shoes on and just idly stand by the front door, not quite making eye contact, but not quite avoiding each other.

“So, who’s driving?” you ask, trying to start a conversation.

“We’re walking,” he replies simply, picking at the little bits of skin around his nails.

“Oh, okay.” Clearly the chances of a good discussion with him today are low.

Gabi comes over with a small handbag of yours in one hand and your phone in the other, holding it away from her as if it’s radioactive. “You might want to check that,” she mumbles, handing the device over to you as she puts her shoes on. You feel George leaning over your shoulder to take a look as you turn the screen on.

Written out across the screen is a disconcertingly straightforward text message from Charles.

You need to come back to Monaco.

George immediately takes a step back, and you look over your shoulder to see him pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing in defeat. In front of you, Gabi has a pained grimace on her face, deathly silent as she awaits your reaction.

It’s overwhelming, really - the sudden silence has a weight to it, a crushing sort of weight capable of making you feel utmost discomfort and borderline pain in your heart. You feel your throat tightening as you unlock your phone, feeling the need to type some sort of reply despite your mind being devoid of any possible response.

Without warning, Gabi lunges forward to grab your phone and throw it in your handbag. “Not tonight. Let him wait,” she chides, passing the crossbody bag over to you.

You find it rather humiliating that you have to fight back tears as you reply, “But what if it’s urgent?” Perhaps Charles isn’t perfect, but he surely isn’t cruel enough to fake an emergency.

“Getting back in time for your birthday date was urgent, but did he give a shit?” she retorts. Her brutal approach to the matter hits you with the force of a sledgehammer, but you can’t deny the fact that she’s correct.

Standing perfectly still, entangled in your thoughts, you eventually feel George put a hand on your shoulder and begin ushering you towards the front door with an emotionless comment of, “Come on, let’s get going to the first club.”

—————

The three of you enter your first destination after a brisk walk in the fresh early-night air. You find yourself immediately surrounded by blaring music and colourful lights, the venue filled with the sort of pounding bass so loud that it seems to shake your organs.

As much as you want to take this as a chance to step away from everything going on in your life, at the forefront of your mind you find the usual thought: what if someone recognises you or George? Obviously it’s not necessarily a bad thing if it does happen, but it doesn’t always look good for your public image if photos of you drunk in some random club start circulating around the internet.

Gabi grabbing your hand forces you to pay attention to her instead of your own thoughts. “Come on, George will get us some drinks,” she tells you, dragging you off through the throng of people as George disappears into another direction. She only stops leading you once the two of you reach a slightly quieter section of the club.

“So, the plan for tonight,” she begins, turning around to face you and hold both your hands, “You’re going to have some fun and finally let go of all the recent drama, even if it’s just for the night, yes?”

You nod in acquiescence - it’s not like she’d let you argue anyways.

“Have some drinks, find some random guy that suits your fancy, go wild. Me and George will get you back home, don’t you worry,” she concludes.

Being given this much free-rein would normally be an exciting opportunity, but tonight it only seems intimidating. Perhaps a part of you is concerned that if you truly let go, you won’t be able to rein yourself back in.

It doesn’t take long for George to find you both, making his way over with three drinks in his hands and passing two over to you and Gabi. You don’t bother asking what it is, and instead just take a sip, immediately realising that it’s something on the stronger side as you savour the burn in your throat.

You spend a few minutes leaning against your friends, occasionally sipping your drink or making small talk, before you decide that it’s time to get moving instead of just standing there. Gabi and George seem delighted that you’ve finally decided to do something of your own volition, absolutely beaming as they follow you while you weave through the crowd and towards the dancefloor.

Letting the music flow through you, you begin an awkward sort of dance, but you don’t really care about what you might look like right now. The music and dancing are borderline hypnotic, making you completely lose track of time as you move your body. You’re not particularly aware of where your friends are either, only seeing them occasionally when they come over to take an empty glass and give you a new drink.

When Gabi comes over with your third drink you spend a few minutes dancing with her, the alcohol beginning to kick in and filling you with a steady sense of euphoria. “I knew you’d have fun eventually!” she rejoices, squeezing your cheeks before shoving the drink in your hand and moving away.

For quite a while, you remain on the dancefloor, dancing next to girls you’ve never met before and grinding against guys you’ll never see again, no longer bothered about protecting your reputation or public image - the media has already done a good job at shredding it, so having some fun can’t possibly do much more damage.

However, at one point you start getting a little lightheaded, not just from teetering on the edge between tipsy and drunk but also from the suffocating heat and roaring noise of the venue. You leave the blond guy you had been dancing with without saying anything, ignoring his brief protest, and start winding your way out of the packed section of the club.

You spot George leaning against a wall, and you assume he’s taking a breather from the energy of the crowd too.

“Hey Georgie, where’s Gabi?” you ask, leaning against him as he brushes some hair away from your face.

“She’s been dancing with some group of girls for the past ten minutes, I don’t think either of us will be able to get her attention any time soon,” he laughs. Typical Gabi, always managing to make herself the life of the party. “Are you alright?” he says, turning his attention back to you.

“Yeah, yeah, I just need some fresh air. Hold my drink.” He takes it without complaint, covering the top with his palm and you give him a smile before heading to a door.

The frigid night air is refreshing, a pleasant contrast to the hellish heat inside. For the first few minutes you just stare at the passing cars, but soon enough you get bored and dig around in your bag to grab your phone.

Much to your dismay, despite having gone unnoticed by the public so far tonight, one person certainly hasn’t forgotten about you.

5 missed calls from Charles.

You groan, throwing your head back and stomping your foot on the concrete beneath. Now you’re really starting to get concerned, still unsure whether he just wants to talk or whether something is actually going on.

But, on the other hand, he hadn’t cared when you had tried to contact him while he had been out with his friends. Maybe you’ll just be lowering yourself to his level by ignoring his calls, but what right does he have to ruin your fun after everything you’ve been going through because of him?

Still, you feel the savage jaws of distress chewing away at you as you make your way back into the club. Perhaps trying to limit your contact with him is doing you more harm than good.

By the time you’re back inside and nearing George, you’ve given up trying to contain the tears, needing to vent the conflicting emotions in some way. Unsurprisingly, George seems rather alarmed to see you reentering the building with tears on your cheeks.

“What happened out there?” he inquires as you snatch your drink back from him and down the rest of it. Screw pacing yourself.

“Charles keeps calling me. I don’t know what’s going on.” You try to remain blunt, laconic, distancing yourself from the situation at hand but clearly failing to do so.

It’s at this point that Gabi makes a sudden reappearance with another drink in her hand, passing it over to you absentmindedly before suddenly catching a glimpse of your face and realising what’s going on.

“Oh, not again, girl,” she whispers, her voice heavy with pity, “This is your night, you can handle anything important tomorrow morning. Go crazy, and ignore what’s going on.”

You nod weakly and take a sip of the new drink.

—————

“Just fucking suck it,” George groans, grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail and shoving the lollipop back into your mouth. After another round of you crying in a corner of the second club you’d visited after thinking of Charles, Gabi - currently the most sober of the three of you - had come up with the bright idea of buying a pack of lollipops as you walk back to your apartment with the sole intent of shutting you up.

Gabi comes out of the small store for a second time, this time carrying a massive bottle of ice tea. She makes her way over to you and George sitting on a bench outside the store and hands the bottle over to him. He immediately takes a few big gulps before passing the bottle over to you, and you do the same. It’s a slight attempt at sobering up a little, and you appreciate Gabi’s help as she slips into her ‘mother of the group’ mode.

Eventually, after a few more minutes of you and George giggling like fools as he passes you lollipop after lollipop, she herds the two of you to stand up and continue the journey back home.

The three of you head down the near-empty streets, holding hands and occasionally stumbling, with complete disregard as to how loud your obnoxious laughing or occasional shrieks are. Let people think what they want, let them take photos and videos and spread gossip around, you don’t care anymore, the alcohol having killed off any final traces of self-consciousness within you.

When you encounter a streetlight, you take turns recording each other as you twirl around it, and then Gabi ends up on the ground, laughing hysterically as you and George mock ballroom dance in the light it gives out. There are few people to witness the scene, and the majority of the people who pass either just give a disapproving glare or smile a little to themselves with amusement.

By the time you’ve made it back to your apartment (and have presumably woken up every single other resident of the building), it’s well past three in the morning. None of you can shut up, still cackling and giggling, yelping as you trip over your own feet once you finally open your apartment door and the three of you haphazardly enter your home.

Immediately after shucking off your shoes, you all pile onto the sofa, dizzy and lacking total control over your own limbs.

“Film?” you ask, not quite ready to end the night just yet.

Gabi and George nod, mumbling some comments of assent. You quickly find some random film to put on, but it’s rather difficult to focus on the rapidly moving images on screen, and, soon enough, you find yourself drifting off.

You don’t wake up until the sun is streaming in through the windows and onto your face, rudely yanking you out of your sleep. Groaning and rubbing your eyes, you try your best to wiggle out from the awkward tangle of limbs that’s taken over the sofa, George sprawled out on his back with one arm dangling towards the floor while Gabi is curled up on the other end.

A faint ringing draws your attention to the kitchen, and you slowly tiptoe over towards it with the intention of grabbing a glass of water whilst you find the source of the noise.

Discovering the culprit isn’t terribly difficult - your phone lays on the kitchen island, abandoned after last night, and it’s incessantly ringing. Desperate to get rid of the clamour which only worsens your already pounding headache, you pick up the phone without checking the screen and answer the call.

“Hello?” you ask, your voice hoarse.

“Oh my god, finally,” you hear, and you nearly choke on the water you’re sipping when you recognise the voice, “Why weren’t you picking up all night?”

A pang of guilt stabs at you as you remember the excuses you had made up last night at the club, “I… I was busy.” It’s pathetic, really. You’re almost fully certain that he’s aware that you had been ignoring him, but it’s too late to hang up now, too late to try and escape from this uncomfortable situation which you have created by yourself.

“Please, this is serious, you need to get to Monaco,” Charles begs, and you sigh, ashamed of yourself and your previous disregard for the matter. It must genuinely be serious if Charles sounds so vexed over it.

“Can you please just tell me what’s going on?” you complain, still rather confused as to what has actually proven to be such a source of distress.

“Maman’s in hospital.”

Holy shit.

This can’t be happening. Especially not after you had spent the entire night worried about if it was an emergency or not.

“No, no, I- shit, I’m so sorry,” you blurt out, any post-alcohol grogginess immediately dissipating as you realise the magnitude of the situation. What a tremendous asshole you had been, ignoring the calls that in fact weren’t about your abhorred ex, but about the woman that has been a second mother to you for more years than you can remember.

Regardless of the recent tensions between you and Charles, you have no intention of forgetting about the woman that had stuck by you through thick and thin.

At your request, Charles gives you some further details, before you end the call and rush to your bedroom, cramming some final items of clothing and toiletries in the suitcase you had already half-prepared for the next race weekend. Dragging the suitcase behind you, you practically sprint back into the living room. Grabbing both of them by the legs, you shake George and Gabi awake and throw a spare set of keys in their general direction.

“What the hell?” Gabi asks, unsurprisingly perplexed to see you lugging a suitcase around the apartment whilst still wearing last night’s dress.

“It’s not about Charles, it’s Pascale,” you reply bluntly, running towards the door and grabbing the comfiest pair of trainers you had laying by the doormat.

You hear the two of them shifting around on the sofa, sitting up, and George adds, “How are you getting to Monaco with zero prior notice?”

Suddenly realising the flaws in your shoddy plan, you stop rushing around for a second, “I… I don’t know, I’ll book a flight or get on a jet…”

Shaking your head, you turn back to the front door and open it, stepping out, “Thanks for last night, guys. Lock the door when you leave.”

You close the door behind you before they get a chance to protest.

—————

FOUR YEARS EARLIER

You had raced in Monaco before, making it a familiar track, but certainly not your favourite, known for its narrow streets and notoriously difficult overtakes.

Having just been sent out on new tires after a pit stop around two-thirds of the way through the race, you were finding the new slicks to be an absolute pain to warm up. Every time you wanted to speed up, there was someone in front of you, and every time you needed to slow down there was someone else breathing down your neck. No matter what you did in an attempt to salvage the situation, the tides just kept turning against you.

It was only when some others near you pitted that you finally got the chance to move at your desired pace. However, the tires were still not in the mood to cooperate.

All it took was one malicious curb.

The world transformed into a blur around you. Screeching, the damned tires sent you spinning and careening straight towards a barrier. It all happened so rapidly that there was no time to even process it enough to feel any shock or horror. The last thing you registered was dropping the steering wheel in an attempt to save your wrists.

Din and clamour a short distance away from you were what finally brought you back, forcefully yanking you back to consciousness. Groaning weakly, you slowly opened your leaden eyes, squinting at the bright sun above you until your view abruptly changed to the ceiling of a vehicle.

Now you were really starting to freak out.

Feeling the rising panic, you began trying to sit up, only to be met with the gentle hands of uniformed people softly lowering you back onto the stretcher. This did nothing to soothe your fright, only further fueling it as you failed to understand the circumstances, and prompting you to try and dig yourself out from the blanket covering you. You continued to play this repetitive game of you trying to move whilst the paramedics attempted to limit unnecessary movements until you finally heard a familiar voice amongst all the frenzy.

Pascale.

The woman was arguing with a paramedic outside the ambulance, insisting that she should be allowed in with you as you had no family at the race. After a few more seconds of a backwards and forwards debate, the paramedic finally gave a sigh of defeat and allowed her in.

She immediately rushed towards you, cradling your face with a delicate hand. For the first time since you had regained consciousness, you relaxed enough to let the paramedics secure you for the ride to what you presumed would be the hospital.

“I crashed, didn’t I?” you whispered as people began leaving the back of the ambulance, only Pascale and one other woman remaining. You were still a little perplexed by the sudden incident, trying to piece together the events that had been snipped out of your memory.

She nodded in reply, still stroking your cheek.

To you, she had always been a steady source of support in your life. Ever since you and Charles had started racing together a few years ago and had become close friends, Pascale had treated you with an indescribable kindness and fondness.

“So, am I right to say that it was quite bad?” you continue, trying to work out the most obvious parts of the missing plot first.

“Yeah… you really scared me,” she admitted with a sigh, “It’s okay now, though. They’re taking you to the hospital. You’ll be okay, I promise.”

You couldn’t tell who she was trying to reassure more: you or herself.

She was finally allowed to see you again in the late hours of the evening, after an endless series of tests and scans of all sorts had been performed to check for any possible injuries or damage. The two of you remained in comfortable silence, the only noise in the room being the rhythmic beeping of various machines which you were sure were important, but the only one you recognised was a heart rate monitor.

By now, you were used to the occasional nurse coming in to check on you, but what you weren’t expecting was to see Charles poking his head into the room, checking if he had arrived at the correct destination.

“I told him he could come see you. He was extremely stressed when he found out the red flag was because of what happened to you, so I hope you don’t mind,” Pascale whispered to you as Charles entered the room, putting on a smile that was obviously masking some deeper emotions of anxiety.

He sat on a stool on the other side of the bed to his mother, who excused herself saying that she needed to grab a drink. The silence in the room was no longer relaxed - it felt tense, loaded with an energy that was struggling to escape to elsewhere.

After a few more seconds of awkward fleeting eye contact, Charles placed a hand on your forearm, gently moving his thumb in soothing patterns.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked quietly, as if even speaking too loudly would have been enough to further damage your already fragile physical state.

“Could be better,” you mumble half-heartedly, “They said it’s just a nasty concussion, so I’m very grateful that it’s nothing far more serious.” You were well aware of the destructive potential of the consequences of a severe crash.

Charles nodded in understanding. “I didn’t see it happen but when they told me it had been you I was terrified,” he tells you, tightening his grip on your arm ever so slightly, “The footage of it - oh my God - it was-“

“I don’t think I want to know the details yet, Charles,” you admit. As much as you wanted to know what had happened, over the past few hours you had begun slipping into exhaustion, and you weren’t sure if you had the energy to process any heavy, sensitive information at that current moment in time.

Charles briefly apologised for his cut-off ramble. You saw him take a deep breath, before he shifted his hand from holding your forearm to tenderly holding your own hand. He didn’t make eye contact, nor did he move in the slightest, presumably awaiting your judgement and either your rejection or approval.

Still in need of some comfort after the day’s events and slightly addled by exhaustion, you decided that some extra physical contact wouldn’t do you any harm, accepting his touch and intertwining your fingers with his.

Half an hour later, Pascale walked back into the room to see you peacefully sleeping whilst her son held the hand of the girl he knew he loved, yet was too afraid to let her know.

—————

PRESENT DAY

The hospital staff put up quite a solid verbal fight when you ask to see Pascale. After all, considering the state of your hangover, you do slightly feel as if you look like you’ve just escaped the hospital mortuary, despite your change of clothes. You bicker back and forth, yet trying to remain as respectful as possible despite your urgency, until they ask if you’re a family member and you answer with an exasperated, “Oui! Puis-je la voir maintenant, s’il vous plaît?”

Surely having been a potential daughter-in-law is close enough to count as family, right?

They finally show you to her room, and you thank them profusely before shutting the door behind you. You’re relieved to see that she seems alright, casually sat up on the bed watching TV, with no beeping machines in sight. In fact, the room doesn’t even have the sterile atmosphere that a hospital typically has, and seems quite cozy instead.

“I’m sorry that I took so long, if I had known-“

“Shush, just sit down,” she scolds you for your sudden outburst, gesturing over to a chair near the bed, “Arthur left around two hours ago, so I’m getting quite lonely here. Why don’t we catch up?”

You nod silently and hurry over to the chair, facing the TV to look at whatever program she’s watching. No matter what the situation may be like between you and Charles, you’re determined not to lose your close friendship with Pascale.

“How are you?” you ask. It’s a stupid question, really, considering the circumstances, but it seems like the safest place to start the conversation for now.

“Very well, thank you. They’re only keeping me here to make sure I’m not dehydrated, and they’ll let me go home soon,” she tells you, smiling warmly, and you feel the weight of the guilt on your shoulders beginning to lift, “I do admit, though, I haven’t really been keeping up with the racing recently - terrible me, I know - Charles told me you’re doing very well this season, though,”

Please don’t bring him up.

Does she know? And if she doesn’t, how will you tell her? Should you even tell her, or let her remain blissfully unaware?

“Yeah, it’s going well. I’m fighting for the championship this year,” you reply, not giving out many further details and hoping for a swift change of subject.

“Ah, he told me so. He cares very deeply about you, you know. I heard him trying to call you immediately after all this-“ she gestures around the room, “happened. I trust that he’s been treating you well?”

Your heart plummets and your throat closes up, preventing you from replying right away. You’re struggling to pull apart the tangled strings of your relationship with Charles - does he actually still care? After what happened on your birthday, you had been almost fully convinced that you mean nothing to him.

But Pascale doesn’t seem to know. She hasn’t heard of the recent chaos and turmoil, and you just can’t bring yourself to be the one who breaks the news to her when she’s already gone through enough stress.

“Yes, he’s good to me.” The lie slips off your tongue smoothly, and you put on a smile to try to be even more convincing. Oh, how you wish that it could be the truth.

All she does is return the smile, and then ask you to hand over a cup of water from a nearby table.

Soon after, you get a text message from Charles.

Where are you?

Part of you doesn’t want him here, desiring to keep the serenity of the room for you and Pascale only, and not let him lay waste to it by making you feel nervous and uncomfortable. On the other hand, he’s the one that had insisted for you to come here, and you won’t be able to hide away from him for much longer anyway.

I’m with Pascale.

It only takes him around 20 minutes to appear in the doorway of the room, but not without gently knocking on the door first. You two share a brief moment of eye contact, and you immediately look away, attacked by a flurry of conflicting emotions, still unsure to what extent you should trust Pascale’s words.

Much to your liking, he ignores you at first, walking over to his mother instead and having a brief conversation about her leaving the hospital soon. You take this as the cue to grab your suitcase - having immediately come here from the airport via taxi, you hadn’t had the chance to leave your belongings anywhere else. Promising Pascale that you’ll see her soon, you give Charles a terse acknowledgment in the form of a small nod before leaving the room.

The brisk air of the monégasque morning hit you as you left the hospital, prompting all the adrenaline that had been coursing through you for the past few hours to dissipate, and suddenly making you realise just how groggy and nauseous you feel. Taking deep, steady breaths, you make a mental note to yourself to buy some water as you begin heading in no direction in particular.

“Hey! Hey! Wait!”

You whip around, shocked to suddenly hear someone yelling at you, only to see Charles half-jogging, half-speedwalking down the street towards you. The only logical thing you can do is awkwardly stand in the middle of the empty path and wait for him to catch up to you.

“Thank you for coming, I’m sure it means a lot to her,” he begins, and then waits for a response. You stay silent. “Where will you be staying?” he continues when he’s met with no reply.

“I think I’ll just find a hotel, or something like that,” you mumble, looking down at the ground and lightly kicking a pebble as some form of distraction for yourself.

“No, no, come home with me. You can stay with me.”

You freeze up. Slowly, after a second of hesitation, you raise your head and finally make eye contact with him. His expression is one of unadulterated candour, his eyes sincere and hopeful.

You really do need a place to stay, and maybe a familiar place would be more welcoming than a plain hotel room. And besides, surely a night or two would be just about bearable.

Mulling over the matter for a few more seconds, you eventually concede, “Yeah, okay.”

A bright smile appears on Charles’ face, and he grabs your suitcase from you. “Come on, let’s go,” he says, leading you in the opposite direction. You have mixed feelings about how this may end, but, ultimately, you’re willing to put up with some bullshit in exchange for a comfortable place to stay.

When you reach his Ferrari you don’t give him the chance to act like a gentleman and open the door for you, as you know he will. Instead, you rush over to the passenger side and get in, put on the seatbelt, and close the door all by yourself. They may seem like tiny things to do, but in a situation in which you don’t have much control they help you feel some sense of independence.

The drive to Charles’ apartment proves to be horrifically nauseating. Your earlier sense of general malaise, partnered with the winding, twisting streets of Monaco leave you with your head leaning against the window and your hand covering your eyes, trying to block out every little beam of sunlight.

“When did you get back home last night?” Charles suddenly asks, a stark change to the prior silence of the entire ride up until this point.

“What are you on about?” you ask in return, still screwing your eyes shut.

“Oh, come on, I’ve seen you hungover more times than I can count. It’s pretty obvious that you’re not in the best state right now.” He isn’t lying - even before you had started dating, almost every time you’d crossed the metaphorical line at a party Charles had been the one to take you home, tuck you in and prepare a glass of water and painkillers for the next morning. In return, you had always done the same for him.

With a sigh, you admit, “I’m pretty sure it was around three in the morning, but I still stayed up for a bit after that.”

Now it was Charles’ turn to give out an exasperated sigh, “Alright, are you going to take a nap when you get in?”

God, why does he care so fucking much?

There’s a battle going on inside your mind, with one belligerent trying to convince you that Charles is still a selfish, fidelity-lacking bastard, whilst the other is pleading for you to take into consideration his sudden shift regarding his newly rediscovered benevolence.

Just so that he doesn’t get the satisfaction of thinking you’ll be complacent, you give him a small ‘hmph’ of impertinence and shift in your seat to have your back to him.

He says nothing and continues driving.

The lift is even worse than the car. You cling onto the small handrail, refusing to look at yourself in the mirrors lining the walls of the steel cage out of pure shame. As the lift begins to rise, a wave of nausea hits you and you cover your mouth. You’re almost fully certain that the nausea wouldn’t go beyond causing some dry heaving, but you don’t even want to think of anything beyond that occurring.

Charles’ neutral expression suddenly changes to one of worry, and he rushes forward, grabbing you by the waist and leading you over to stand in front of the doors that are about to open. “No, no - don’t you do that in here,” he scolds you gently, before half-guiding, half-shoving you out of the lift and towards his apartment.

Him doing so quite honestly pisses you off, having no desire to be close to him, let alone touched by him, but you’re in no state to protest receiving help either, so you just go along with it to allow himself to feel like some sort of saviour for the time being.

“You’re acting as if I’m blackout drunk,” you grumble, complaining, but accepting the assistance as he helps you stand before his door and unlocks it. Upon entering the apartment, he finally gives you a chance for a little independence by allowing you to take your shoes off by yourself.

“Are you getting into bed?” he asks from the other side of the apartment.

Is this boy mad? Perhaps you’re willing to spend a day or two in close proximity, but sharing a bed is far out of your comfort zone for now.

“Fuck off, Leclerc,” you hiss back, getting a glass of water for yourself.

“Alright, alright,” he gives in, entering the living room with a blanket over his arm and his hands raised in defeat, “Would you prefer the sofa, then?”

After putting down your now empty glass, you give him a small, almost sheepish nod. He pats the sofa, gesturing for you to come over, which you somewhat reluctantly do. You lay down, purposefully keeping your back to him, but he doesn’t seem bothered. Instead, he gently lays the blanket over you, making sure that you’re fully covered below the neck.

“There you go,” he whispers, fixing part of the blanket that had slipped and uncovered your arm, his touch lingering for slightly too long to go unnoticed, before walking away.

You’re not sure if he hears your quiet reply of, “Thank you.”

—————

The euphony of skillful piano playing delicately guides you away from your dream about a picnic in a meadow and back to real life in the waking world. You stretch out on the sofa, the morning sun warming you and resulting in you kicking the blankets off both you and the sofa in an attempt to escape the heat.

A few days had passed since you had arrived in Monaco, and, despite not being entirely happy about it, you had given in and agreed to stay in Monaco until you had to leave for your next race. Charles’ argument had been that there’s no point in you going back to London if you would have to pack up and leave again pretty much the next day, and he certainly hadn’t been wrong.

As much as you hate to admit it, you’ve really missed hearing him playing piano. Suddenly, midway through a piece, the music comes to an abrupt stop.

“I know you’re awake,” he calls out to you, and you sit up on the sofa.

“Alright, you creep,” you retort, but in a jocular manner rather than an insulting one, and you’re somewhat surprised at the fact that you’re not spitting venom at him at every opportunity.

Getting up and walking to the bathroom, you mull over the current situation. Charles has been nothing but lovely to you for the past few days, and in a way you’re finding it difficult to acknowledge that this is the same Charles who had been making out with some random girl on your birthday. His sudden shift in character doesn’t seem right - is he being manipulative, or is he genuinely penitent for his sins?

You don’t stick around to find out. Instead, you spend the day shopping with Pascale, helping her restock on groceries after her return home. Once you’ve finally laid all the bags out on her kitchen table, she sends you back off to Charles’ apartment with a hug and some tiramisu that she had made the night before.

When you arrive back at his place in the early evening, it’s oddly quiet. The lights are off throughout most of the apartment, with the only source of light being the dying rays coming from the setting sun. Despite knowing that he isn’t obliged to tell you what he does when anymore, you can’t help but wonder if he’s just suddenly gone out without telling you a thing.

The faint clink of porcelain on the kitchen counter allays your rising confusion, and after slipping your shoes and coat off you head over to see if Charles is in the kitchen. Rounding the corner and placing down Pascale’s tiramisu, you see him plating pasta in an unhurried manner, clearly unaware that you’ve entered the apartment, but still preparing two bowls regardless of that fact.

He still doesn’t seem to notice you, completely caught up in what he’s doing, so you speak up, “That looks really good.”

The poor guy completely startles like a spooked horse, dropping the (thankfully empty) pan into the sink and clutching the edge of the counter as he turns around. You immediately feel bad, not having expected such a visceral reaction to your unexpected appearance, and begin apologising profusely.

He holds his palm out towards you, signalling for you to stop, before grabbing two forks and the bowls of pasta. “I made carbonara for us,” he says simply, walking past you and to the dining table, where he puts down one bowl opposite the other and gestures for you to sit down.

“You really didn’t have to,” you tell him, yet you still sit down and take the fork from him.

“I wanted to. I know it’s one of your favourites.” He gives you a wide grin, then sits down himself.

No, oh God, you just can’t keep forcing yourself to hate this man when for the past few days he’s been the paragon of a caring individual. It’s almost like he’s the Charles that you used to love once again. But you also can’t keep allowing yourself to think like that - despite the close proximity, this is just a temporary arrangement and he’s only being a good host.

The two of you dine in near silence, only occasionally making small talk about the weather or Pascale or the upcoming Hungarian Grand Prix. It’s a somewhat comfortable sort of silence, but there’s a slowly rising level of palpable tension in the air, and as you look at Charles from time to time you can tell that there’s something he’s not telling you.

After sharing the tiramisu that Pascale had made, you thank him for the meal, offering to clean up in exchange for him having cooked. The empty kitchen is a good place for you to gather your thoughts once again, and make up your mind: you’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning. You definitely take far too long cleaning up, only needing to rinse off two bowls and put them in the dishwasher, but moments of solitude since you’ve returned to Charles’ apartment are rare and you decide to savour this one.

As usual, however, it doesn’t last long. He corners you in the corridor as you’re trying to pick a book from the bookshelf, and you don’t really have any way of escaping this interaction.

“I know this sounds stupid,” he begins, fiddling with the rings on his fingers, “But, maybe, do you want to give this - us - another chance? Privately? Away from the paddock and the media?”

You just stand there perfectly still, astounded by the absolute audacity that this man has to ask such a question when he himself is the root of the very problem. He doesn’t say anything more, instead waiting patiently for your reply with pleading eyes.

The little voice in your head is cheering and whooping, delighted to be presented with such an opportunity. However, the logical part of you is what bluntly responds with, “I don’t think I can trust you anymore.”

Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I know, and my promises probably don’t mean anything to you, but there would never be a repeat of… that situation ever again,” he says.

“Sure, until the next time you get drunk,” you retort scathingly. Turning away from him, you begin walking towards the door, with every intention of putting your shoes on and getting away from him and his empty promises.

You hear his footsteps hurrying after you and his harsh comment of, “You’re no saint either, I’ve seen the way you look at George.”

Whipping around to face him again after such an accusation, you lose your patience, “Have you gone insane? He’s like a brother to me - a brother, Charles!”

Why, pray tell, is he getting George involved in this mess?

The two of you glare at each other, both frustrated, both confused, and both sick to death of everything that’s been happening recently. Charles is the first one to make a move. He looks away for a split second, before rushing forwards and pressing his lips against yours.

You don’t reciprocate the kiss.

He takes a step back, looking into your eyes imploringly, begging, “Tell me to stop.”

You can’t. You’re so damn frustrated, filled to the brim with pent-up emotions threatening to overspill. The entire situation just keeps changing directions and moods and you can’t keep up with it, and, perhaps, in this case going with the flow is the easiest way out. Besides, as much as you feel loathing towards Charles, you’ve also missed him. So, if there are no strings attached - at least from your perspective - what harm will giving in do? It’s just one instance anyway.

You shake your head no. You won’t tell him to stop.

He grabs you by the hips, walking you backwards until you’re up against the wall, and leans in once again. This time, you grip his hair, pulling him in even closer, because if this is just going to be a one time thing then you’re going to make the most of it. The cloying familiarity of his lips on yours is emotive, bringing back memories of lustful romance that you’ve been trying to suppress for the past week or so.

His hands drift lower, down to your thighs, and you let out a light moan in response to his bruising grip. He smirks a little as he lifts you up slightly and slots his knee between your thighs. Desperate for more, and perhaps even craving a brief return to what life with Charles used to be like, you grind against his leg.

“That’s it, good girl,” he whispers in your ear after pulling away from the kiss. You quash the thought of giving him an earful for acting cocky, and instead respond with a small whine.

In part, you’re slightly ashamed to be the one falling apart while he remains composed, so you decide that it’s time for some equal treatment. Dropping one hand to his shoulder, you use the other to lightly trace his abs through his t-shirt and then you begin attempting to undo his belt one-handed. It proves to be a difficult task, vexing you as you struggle to undo it, but instead of helping you out Charles just chuckles lightly and moves his leg, causing you to bite down on his shoulder and moan.

Eventually, you give up with the belt, instead resorting to pressing your palm against his crotch and feeling a sense of satisfaction as you elicit a groan from him. In return, his hold returns to your hips and he starts controlling your movements on his thigh.

Throwing any last semblance of self-restraint out of the window in exchange for some pleasure, you start begging, “Please, Charles, please, I want more - I need more.”

He partially fulfills your request by kissing and lightly nipping at your neck, just delicately enough to not leave marks. However, just as you tilt your head back, he suddenly removes his knee from between your legs and sets you back down on the ground.

You whine at the loss of contact, leaning against the wall and looking up at him with begging eyes, all previous inhibitions lost, but him shaking his head shatters your rose-tinted glasses and brings you back to harsh reality.

“No, you’ll regret it,” he tells you, taking a step back, “I don’t want to be a part of something that’ll leave you even more upset afterwards.”

Oh, what a fool you had been, thinking that this would just end in a quick fuck with no further complications. Charles’ sudden shift in demeanour has proven otherwise, but perhaps his words do have some truth to them. If you had ended up sleeping with the very same man who had cheated on you just a few weeks ago, would you have lost some respect for yourself?

Feeling surprisingly crestfallen, you give him a slight nod before walking away, grabbing your phone from the coffee table and picking up your suitcase from where it stands beside the sofa, unmoved since the day you had arrived. You’ve lost the desire to stay for any longer, certain that today’s entire debacle would do nothing but make the atmosphere in the apartment tense and awkward.

Neither of you say anything as you put your shoes on and grab your coat, opening the door, yet not leaving quite yet. Just like the last time you had unceremoniously left his apartment with your guitar, you refuse to turn around and look at him, afraid that the sight of him may change your mind on what you’re about to do.

“Thank you for letting me stay, I hope it wasn’t too much of a hassle,” you say simply. It’s disjointed, impersonal, strictly professional and respectful. Weighed down by your contrition, you leave his home heartbroken once again.

——————————

a/n: a massive thank you for all the previous support once again. Also, please let me know whether you’d like to be on a taglist for everything I write, or just showbiz, baby :)

TAGLIST: (let me know if I missed you or tagged you incorrectly)

@alternativemadchen @enjoymyloves @laura-naruto-fan1998 @x-hey-its-paige-x @rockyhayzkid @disneydaydreameralways @ferrarifwendvale @lovingroscoee @watermel0nsugarhigh @obnoxioussmiley @xoxoloverb @hannahholland1811 @chiogarza @in-some-fandoms @oyesmendes @imreallylosingit @ninnypoosworld @mrsspector-grant @tall-tanned-tattoo @bleedsweatcry @sawendel @seastarapiaries

#i wrote a significant part of this whilst travelling abroad #charles leclerc #showbiz baby #sb #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #george russell #george russell fanfiction #george russell fanfic #george russell imagine #cl16 #gr63

[dingoskidneys]

I was trying to take a screenshot of something on my phone and it wasn't responding, probably because I was also listening to music on my half-functioning headphones and editing a picture within another app, so I just kept holding down the volume and power buttons until suddenly the music stopped and the screen went black and a teeny tiny message in white and red popped up towards the top of the screen that I've never seen before in the four-plus years of owning this thing. It listed options to restart or completely erase all my data or shut my phone down. There was a fourth option but I forget what it was. I was so baffled at first that I just sat there for a moment staring at it. The prospect of accidentally erasing literally everything from my phone made me a bit anxious but still I just sat there, staring, amused. There's a unique kind of amusement I get when things go wrong, when a machine stops working or a pencil breaks. Suddenly everything is out of my control and there is a very brief moment of absolute peace, a pocket in time that I sit in and savor and it feels like the world has paused around me, it has to pause, it has to pause because I just shoved a wrench into its gears and made it stop, I broke it. The phone screen is black, the music is off, my photo is gone, just two clicks and everything inside it could be gone-- it's all in my hands now, not even my hands but my fingers, so simple and easy and quick to break something bigger. I won't, but I could, and I sat with the idea. I didn't. But I could have. You don't notice the little things that annoy you until a wrench is shoved into them. The way my phone glitches when I swap between apps and slows down to a crawl when multiple functions are running. The routines I get used to, waiting for it to load and clicking buttons to close ads and trying to dismiss an undismissable notification about connecting my number to wifi or something that I swipe at every time I turn the thing on. Little grains of sand in my shoe that I tense up at but don't notice because they're always there. Little thorny branches I reflexively brush away so often that I don't notice the scratches on my attention span. Suddenly when the world pauses you notice the buildup of annoyance you've carried in your jaw and your shoulders and the disturbing hunched posture you have and you think wait, why do I live like this? And the little tiny text at the top of the screen says, you don't have to. It says, I'm broken. It says, you're free. You're a human sitting in this pocket of time in which everything you were filling your attention with a moment ago has suddenly stopped, you could wipe the phone clean and put it down forever and ever and step out into the sunlight and never swipe an undismissable notification again. But do you? Would you? Of course not! There's pictures of your dog in here, and your parents like to text you, and gee what else do I even do on my phone besides scroll? I click to restart my phone, because why would I do anything else? The only appeal of deleting everything is that it's a surprise, it's big, it's dramatic, it looks like it would be freeing but in the next moment I'd be missing those pictures of my dog and my hoarde of tv show screenshots for drawing from and the texts from my parents, yes. But instead of sitting staring impatiently at the screen while the phone boots up again, scratching my brain with more thorns, I'll put the phone across the room and do something else, I guess.

#stupod ramblepost #idk. #griffffwrites #thinks

[jess-is-trans-and-horny]

Do you how I can cum harder? :3

Do it inside me?

But seriously (Jess puts on scientician hat), there are two ways I’ve seen to increase the power and intensity of the ole goo blasting.

Edging. It may be cliche, but telling your balls that a big O is on its way so they ramp up production, and then canceling the whole operation will create a buildup that when you do release it, will be prodigious in volume as well as more emotionally intense.

Work out that prostate! In addition to being your butt’s g-spot, the prostate also regulates how hard and even how long you can cum. You can actually make the muscles stronger by basically doing the “stop your piss stream” clench even when not peeing and over time you’ll learn how to squeeze really hard at the moment of truth and you will cum like a damn cannon.

Hopefully these tips help, and I cannot stress enough how much I should be getting cummed in right now.

#ask answered #Jess the scientician

[itsclydebitches]

Idk why but Ruby's whole break down is reminding me of the Apathy arc in season 6. Post-Cinder fight with the fate of a kingdom in the balance, post-ally getting stabbed (although Penny did die), something goes totally wrong and so their fight against Salem seems so much harder (Jinn's revelations for s6, for s9, um, many parts of s8 to choose from but I'm going to say Penny's death) so therefore the girl(s) spirals.

And it also reminds me of the Apathy because there are some absolutely stellar concepts here, in isolation I love the judgement of the dead as a moment but.... but it just doesn't quite work because of the larger context around that scene.

Okay, I sorta veered off into a weird direction with this, but comparing the two arcs really helps emphasize (for me anyway) how RWBY keeps escalating without even a gesture towards victory:

Enemies are plotting and planning, but the heroes are equally prepared, including training the next generation and controlling the Fall Maiden powers

Never-mind, Beacon has fallen and the powers are lost

Relics are introduced and now the sub-goal is to keep them safe, but the group also comes to the realization that Salem is immortal

Instead of making headway towards defeating her and/or keeping the Relics permanently out of her reach, two are now lost, a Kingdom has fallen, and the heroes are trapped in the Ever After

Summarized like that it doesn't sound much - maybe even just a season or two of the characters going through expected, necessary conflict - but for RWBY this was seven volumes, the vast majority of its whole run. With Volume 10 not yet greenlit and the vague expectation that it won't last for too many seasons more, I worry about how this is all going to get resolved when we've had this much escalation across this time much with zero work done to inch the heroes towards better prospects. Ruby just committed suicide! The heroes have been at their 'lowest' (from a destroyed school/lost arm to the protagonist fully giving up in the most shocking way possible) for almost the entire show. What are we supposed to do with that? Especially with RWBY's tendency to 'solve' things in a single scene. I can't help but worry that the show as a whole is going to become a version of the Ambrosius conversation. Instead of naturally introducing the Staff, its powers, its limitations, the quirks of its soul, and the building blocks of a creative idea that will eventually save the day, RWBY speed-runs that like whoa, all in a single scene. Here's what the Staff does, the problems you have to circumvent, oh look they figured out how to do that off screen and now they're implementing it! A two Volume conflict (the buildup to this entire trolly problem) is solved in, literally, a single conversation.

Given the expectation (hope?) that the Ever After will be at least a little plot relevant, I'm waiting for the inevitable moment when the show hands Ruby a Get Out of Jail Free card. Like, for example, some handy-dandy device to take back to Remnant (like a leaf) that will deal with Salem (through Ascension), so all they have to do is hop over to Vacuo, spend a Volume engaging in minor fights as they put off the final confrontation, and then magic Salem into being a Good Person through the power of suicide allegory, therefore freeing Remnant from her clutches, lifting Ozpin's curse, ignoring the Gods' involvement in all this, dodging the heroes actually needing to do anything to earn victory, and bringing forth the Happily Ever After for the not-fairy tale.

Okay, obviously we don't know if any of that is going to happen, but I'm afraid that something like it will, largely because yeah, we're getting these repeated cycles of Awful Things Happening, each worse than the one from before. The show, given that it's already in season nine, can only continue doing that for so long before the writers go, "Shit, we're ending. Quick! Hand the heroes a simple solution to wrap it all up."

#rwde #rwby #mymetas #suicide tw

[transphilza]

okay. i have taken a moment and now, as your local insane c!wilburian analyst who tends to only focus on what i enjoy about lore, i am going to try to put into words how i felt very candidly about the finale

i don’t normally critique lore pretty much at all because i’m very into Having Fun but because endings sort of recontextualize entire storylines i feel the need to discuss this one from more angles than i usually would, and also just as a way to process what i’m feeling

“disappointed” is a word that probably fits, i’m not gonna sugarcoat that, but i do think it warrants more elaboration at least in terms of my personal feelings

i loooved all the c!crime, c!tommy was amazing and i really enjoyed all their interactions. i think everything they did prior to The Utah Thing was extremely well done and i can’t complain much at all in this regard. i enjoyed tommy standing up for himself to wilbur and i LOVED tommy standing up for wilbur to wilbur. the main issue is that all the amazing buildup to wilbur forgiving himself as the ultimate climax… Obviously.. it didn’t follow through in a way that gave adequate closure to those things that were brought up

this is all kind of obvious though. so, like, Why, is the question now. at first watch, the first thing that came to mind was it being sort of a cop-out…. as in, addressing everything seriously and giving total closure was too immense of a task and maybe due to time constraints or maybe due to just not knowing how, wilbur decided a lighthearted ending would be better received

the issue with that is that i Know wilbur could’ve written an ending with closure?? like. i genuinely don’t think i.. put Too Much Trust in him, or anything like that. i think he truly was fully capable of ending it seriously and on a positive note. so it definitely feels like something was…. lost in translation? whatever the intention was got lost somewhere, which makes a sort of silly and bizarre ending even more confusing than it already might’ve been. because there were obvious paths that he Could have followed but he Didn’t.?

i presume and hope that next time he does a stream he’ll end up talking about this, and why he made that decision, so it will all feel more clear. i just think if i knew Why i would be better able to contextualize it, and so the sort of out-of-nowhere silliness would be less jarring

but honestly, i think…. the utah silly bit being the end Would have been fine if the stuff brought up was just addressed first. like. this is the thing im most upset about — c!wilbur’s depression and his suicidality were never properly addressed by Himself. if that specific moment with tommy, where tommy tells him to forgive himself, if that moment had Followed Through, i’d feel a lot better. if he had been forced to look at himself in the water and say “i’m sorry” or if tommy had said something about his humanity and he started crying and said thank you. like. Anything. anything other than I Was Born And Raised In Utah. i just wanted way more from that and it’s upsetting because it was heavily foreshadowed. and then it didn’t happen and i’m sad about that

as such i really don’t think the lighthearted or less serious ending was a bad idea at all, but rather just the timing of it and what was ignored before it. as a cwilbur person all i ever wanted was a serious conversation about the fact that he is a broken struggling man who deserves happiness and its incredibly sad to have that sort of… dangled in front of me and then not ever given?

i hope to hear more from wilbur about this and his decision making process! i did genuinely enjoy most of the stream, i’m happy wilbur didn’t die and i’m happy he’s gonna go, what, go for a hike in the utahian desert and enjoy nature? or something? but i’m sad he left tommy, and i hope maybe in volume 2 we get some kind of. Anything any implication about that. cause it feels deeply wrong for c!crime to not see each other again, to not have more time to mend.

so, yeah. amazing build up with disappointing follow through, still funny and enjoyable, but certainly lacking heavily in the areas that me and other analysts tend to enjoy most. so, mixed feelings!

i’m proud of him either way, though, i’m proud of him for getting here and i’m proud of him for giving us anything at all. all these things can coexist…. he made an amazing character i will always love

i’ll probably find more to say in the future and if i do i’ll just tack it on in a reblog — but i do absolutely plan to try to legitimately and seriously analyze the utah shit from a literary perspective, just for fun, at some point :) cause it was funny!! and you know what, i guess he’s somewhere safe, where he can heal, and in that way it’s a very open ended sort of ending, and while it lacks closure in a lot of areas, i’m not mad at the concept or the outcome. the idea of him wanting a new beginning all on his own, and perhaps having time to heal before he comes back and mends his relationships. that’s my personal vision of what happens next <3

it has been a pleasure analyzing this weirdo for you all either way and i intend to keep doing so bc he’s always gonna be my blorbo ^_^

#ending discussion #lore critical #but also lore positive!!! not all crit!

[invested-in-your-future]

thoughts on bumbleby?

I…genuinely can't see a version of RWBY where those two are NOT the endgame. As characters they are closely tied since the very first trailer, the beauty and the beast metaphors just literally write themselves and beyond Cinder's plot, its the single most well built up thing in Volume 1 through 3 and their trauma is intrinsically linked. Their relationship is genuinely THERE - be it in terms of each allowing themselves to be vulnerable when around each other or just how much blake subconsciously tied herself emotionally to Yang (considering how much Mercury stuff hits her in V3). Its likely the single most tangible idea in the show.

The fact that I have SEVERE doubts it would have gone ANYWHERE had RWBY not been put into a situation where it's very survival as a show is in danger…speaks miles about how RWBY is handling various aspects of itself, be it characterization or social issues…

The show is…not great with inclusivity…at all. Be it tackling it as in-story issue (be it WF storyline or how the show handles trauma) or actually being inclusive. Inclusivity is something that comes up as patchwork against critique, rather than something that's intervowen into the show. The amount of queerbait, heternormativity, ableism or just outright insensitivity is just…yeah. Till certain point show is completely oblivious just how heteronormative it is, like it takes legit YEARS before the criticism reaches the writers and they throw at the viewer "here LGBT people exist" kind of moment.

It kind of made me feel like this relationship is this "break in case of emergency" thing, where the show is absolutely afraid to commit to any sort of buildup and instead dangles it as POSSIBILITY, while also throwing in a good share of random het stuff around. You take any moment in time of RWBY existing, Monty or no Monty and you will have SOMETHING - be it the way Sun's team is used in S2 that feels like writers being scared of WLW ships that came to be or the infamous bumbleby song incident where RT released an absolutely romantic ship song during pride month and then backpedalled hard on how it means nothing for canon and how all songs totally mean nothing for canon. Or how after the absolutely charged build up in V3, you get an…entire season of trying to counter-balance it with Blake and Sun where the show tries to execute a similar plotpoint between them. Its a repeated pattern of plausible deniability.

Even if you take a moment without a controversy brewing, it always felt like the writers are AFRAID of Blake and Yang actually interacting or progressing as characters or as a relationship. Volume 4 through 8 are filled with the kinds of situations where Blake and Yang "share a scene together", but in terms of writing it feels like there's intentional artificial wall placed in between them. The characters are not allowed to deal with their separation at the end of V3 because it could be viewed as romantic, the characters are not allowed to vocalize their trauma because their traumas are intertwined and it could be viewed as romantic bonding, the characters are not allowed to to react to each other's actions because reacting to each other can be seen as romantic. So in a way you get a lot of scenes where Blake and Yang can stand together in a same scene but not really progress.

Like not even just as a pairing, you don't need a pairing to deal with character sexuality. You can still do entirety of will they won't they after having confirmed that yes Blake and Yang can be interested in women romantically. But the show avoids it till the last possible moment.

Given to be fair, that applies to more than LGBT topics - Ruby has spent her ENTIRE SCREENTIME from start of V4 till end of V8 being juuuuust on the brink of having a proper character moment where she can reflect on her trauma, for example, just scene upon scene where any kind of breakthrough is suddenly interrupted or goes nowhere. That's because the show is afraid of committing to ANYTHING overall, not just LGBT pairings. Any sort of character development, any sort of growth or change, any sort of progress. Any bigger revelation is toothless (just think back onto Salem flashback and just how it changes absolutely NOTHING in the show)

So you have basically a show where you have a bunch of characters and relationships with a lot of potential and possible build up and the show kind of does nothing with it for entire seasons. Because the show is afraid of change or progress of any sort.

Countries can fall, people can die and nothing changes.

Characters Don't. Status Quo Doesn't. Setting Doesn't.

It feels like the show is stuck. Stuck just after V3 ended. Stuck and just throwing multiple kind of redundant plotlines at the viewer to distract.

I love Blake and Yang as a pairing and I think its one thing that makes the most sense in the show. Its one of the main draws to the show for me when I still watched it.

I wish this show was THE show that lived up to the boundless storytelling potential that that relationship is...alas.

So yeah, its complicated.

#RWBY #Blake Belladonna #Yang Xiao Long #bumbleby #rwby

[momtaku]

Hi, if you don't mind could you elaborate on this from your last ask? I'd love to read your thoughts on it

"issues that have plagued the series as a whole - terrible pacing, inconsistent tone, and too much emphasis on the mystery instead of the resolution."

I started this yesterday and it quickly turned into to an unwieldy mass of words because there is so much that I could say here. And tbh everything comes off much more negative than I’d like. Isayama is a talented writer. He can pace things. He can set the tone. He can write a compelling mystery. His work wouldn’t be so popular if those things weren’t true. But his primary flaws as a writer imo are: his over-reliance on the mystery box approach to story telling, his desire to surprise the reader went to an extreme and resulted in frustration, he let the story get far too big and as a result had to blaze through important development to reach any sort of conclusion. In other words, pacing.

Properly pacing a decade long monthly manga series (which is required by its nature to hit specific beats every chapter and more specific beats every volume) is likely impossible, so while I found the early pacing issues annoying, I also found them mostly forgivable. 

But minor pacing annoyances became major problems in the final arc when Isayama had far too much story to tell and not enough pages to tell it. It all led to inconsistent tone, rushed answers and unsatisfying reveals. 

I’m going to boil this answer down to try to explain what I mean with a few examples.

“Inconsistent tone”

Just prior to encasing herself in a crystal, Annie slaughtered Levi's entire crew and smashed up a city. Amin had visited her in the crystal over the years and agonized over her potential reappearance. When she’s brought back into the story all that buildup was brushed off with a joke.

Enemies seamlessly agreed to work together. Magath made an instant idealogical reversal.  Yelena rapid-fire went from being wiling to die at Flocks hand, to unconscious, to a meddler and a menace, to who knows what because she disappeared. 

All of the botched character development was due to a cascade of poor pacing. Isayama had too much story and too little time, so character development had to be rushed or brushed aside.  Character development and character interactions that might have been meaningful and poignant didn't have time to land and resonate.  Important plot points felt like check boxes being ticked off.

“Too much emphasis on the mystery and not the resolution”

This is also best summed up in the final arc. In the end all we as readers wanted to know was what was going on with Eren and the Rumbling. Instead we were denied that until the final chapter and instead fed a diet of rehashed moral dilemmas and plot points that didn't feel like they were progressing the story. Connie’s side quest to feed Falco to his mom is the most egregious example of that.

For too many chapters we knew that the rumbling was happening offscreen, that the world was being destroyed, and that Eren was... well, really who even knew because we were not given his viewpoint until the final chapter. Instead the story stayed in Paradis where the Jaegerists were building their bullet happy government and the Alliance was panic-wringing their hands instead of focusing on things that felt unimportant in the face of world genocide.

The problem with Isayama’s mystery box approach is that holding onto important details for too long is frustrating for readers. I heard a talented mystery writer say that having your readers correctly guess a mystery or predict an ending isn’t a sign of bad writing. It’s the opposite. It means you did your job well. 

Historia’s pregnancy was a mystery with no purpose. After 86 chapters, the basement reveal fell flat for many. The anime team inserted hints about Marley and Ymir an entire arc earlier than the manga did because they knew that rather than ruining the surprise it would build excitement and make for a more satisfying story.

I could write another post about how the anime fixed pacing and tone, but I’ll link to one of my favorite examples instead.

One more grievance before I end this.... 

The Marley Arc

The Marley Arc tops my list of "good story poorly executed". It was a mystery held too long that frustrated readers. Not sharing Reiner, Bert and Annies belief system sooner led many readers to not care about them at all. 

The Marley Arc wasn’t just a minor pacing issue. Instead it screeched the existing action to a halt. By abandoning the characters the readers cared about it drove fans from the series. 

For people who did care about Marley, doubling the cast resulted in frustration because story focus had to be shared by too many characters, resulting in readers feeling like their favorite was languishing or else being ignored. And example here is that many were led to believe Reiner would have a more significant role in the end. He didn’t.

I'm not saying the Marley Arc wasn't important because it was. I love the Marley characters and I loved learning their world but it should've been handled differently. Don’t ask me how because I don’t know, but plopping a whole new story in the middle of an established story is a killer.

More thoughts on the writing of the Marley arc is in this post if you’d like to read it. I think it captures my frustration and joy.

In summary, I don’t want to change the manga. I just want to chop it up and rearrange it. Maybe turn it into two mangas. I’m grateful that the anime fixed a lot of what’s wrong. The anime shows just how much more effective a story can be when histories are introduced sooner and mysteries are revealed when they are relevant and not years after the fact.

Thanks for the ask! If you made it to end of this, wow :D

#chatting with friend #snk ending #snk pacing #snk story issues #I swear I love the story #I hate negative posts like this because I'd rather speak of things I love and not things I dont

[jammatown919]

Dont you think that killing her, bringing her back, killing her again and bringing her back again is redicules?

I think it’s pretty obvious that I don’t seeing that I’ve been talking for so long about how it genuinely makes less narrative sense to leave her dead at this point (also she is not the only character in this series to get fake out deaths and I’ve seen no one complaining). Whether or not I agree with the decision to start this chain of events depends entirely on where they go from here, but leaving Penny dead is a waste of a LOT of buildup, a waste of her character in general since her own arc was never finished, completely contrary to everything they’d already established her story was supposed to be about, and honestly I think it’s more ridiculous to bring a character back after three seasons just to permakill her in the next one. They probably could’ve just brought in a new character to fill the same purpose in the Maiden plot if they really wanted a placeholder for Winter whose own story as an individual was going to be disregarded, but they didn’t. They brought back a well-liked character from the first volume, built her up, and cut her off before letting her story play out in favor of killing her in a way that goes against the themes of what we’d already seen of that story. THAT is ridiculous unless it is an obstacle for the character to overcome rather than just the end of her story.

Plus, y’know, the literal onscreen evidence that something about her death and the power transfer was abnormal and the fact that V9 went out of its way to parallel this character specifically with themes of rebirth and revival.

#penny polendina #rwby #honestly don’t feel great about this question #like... obviously I don’t think it’s ridiculous and one look at my blog will tell you that #especially since I’m pretty sure this is the same anon who has been asking me questions for a while