Thought you might like my college graduation cap @rainbowrowell 🥰
I had a very hard time picking what Simon Snow quote I wanted to use for this, so there’s some other grad cap designs below the cut that are free to steal, if anyone else wants to use them! You don’t have to, but it would be awesome if you tagged me if you end up using them so I can see 👀
There’s also a little love letter to the Simon Snow series, so proceed if you dare 😆
A. “Light a match inside your heart”
B. “May you fight your own battles and forge your own wings”
C. “It’s the good things that hurt when you’re missing them” featuring a border of building silhouettes from your campus
D. “Never let them tell you you’re not magic”
E. “I know that things will only get better if good people fight for what’s important” featuring a border of flowers (I know they don’t look like flowers here lol)
All quotes are courtesy of the wonderful Rainbow Rowell from the Simon Snow series :)
(I’m about to get mushy, so beware) Picking a quote from this series for my graduation cap was a no-brainer for me. This series has had an insane impact on my life, to the point where I genuinely don’t know where I’d be without it. From first picking Carry On up the week I turned 15, to having to physically restrain myself from reading WS in one sitting because it was my first hard week of college as a freshman, to reading AWTWB in one sitting the day it released despite being on a family vacation. From starting a sideblog, to making art and fics about it with my sister, and to looking through art or fics when I was having a panic attack to help me calm down. To the amazing community I’ve found online with the most talented and kind people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. My life has been fundamentally changed for the better because I decided to pick up Carry On in January 2016, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.
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THANK YOU so much for including Mario in your headcanons!! People tend to forget about him 😔😔 ( also uhmmm more about your face claims for the Falcones? 🏃♂️🏃♂️)
WOOO MARIO MY BELOVED (I know the faintest of info abt him)
I feel like the Falcones need a vintage elegant destruction about them, so, this is just going off vibe!! Also, I think Sofia’s portrayal varies between source material.
Steven Bauer is Mario for me fr fr. In my head he’s a well-meaning if not gullible crime himbo
I’ve already decided Ben Feldman should play Alberto, sorry Matt Reeves :/
(I strongly believe he should be a trophy wife to someone, anyone. He deserves it)
Also, I do believe Lady Gaga would slay Sofia Falcone if given the opportunity
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All that remains: Part I
In the land just past the Decapolis, by the tombs of the city's most ancient forebears, there lived a man called Legion. Some days, he howled like a beast, laughing as he savaged his own flesh with the jagged edges of stones. Other days he wept like a child, teeth chattering even as the sun blazed overhead. But more days still, he lingered in the quiet spaces, haunted but lucid: A stranger to the land and a stranger to himself.
He called himself Legion because he was made of many parts. Memories without attachments, stories without endings. Fragments. Worse, he felt like he could only hold a few of the pieces at a time. Trying to assemble himself felt like an endless effort of cupping his hands together tight, filling them with details, reaching up to his mouth, and realizing they had already slipped through his fingers. An endless thirst for which he had no cure.
The town called him Legion, because they remembered what he often forgot: That he was a Roman, as well as a former soldier. If he’d been anything less, they’d have driven him away. Instead, they fussed over him endlessly, all too aware that to harm a single hair upon his head was to invoke the wrath of the largest army the world had ever seen.
(Which was a problem, because he was all too willing to harm himself.)
On Legion’s good days they simply gave him space. He’d tried describing once, all the things that could bring his demons out: The clash of metal, the twang of a bowstring. A scream of pain. Those were easy enough to remember and avoid, but others were not. Certain phrases in Latin, ones related to marching, used for giving directions. Certain smells - the roasting of pork, the burning of sulfur. The way some men from distant lands braided their hair.
So many little things.
They were a lot to keep track of, and the cost of failure was high. It seemed easier for the people of the town to simply avoid him altogether. That it let them ignore his suffering was simply a pleasant side effect.
On his bad days, they had to intervene more directly. He was strong when he was well, but his sickness could make him almost invincible. Whole teams of men would be sent into the tombs while he screamed and roared, and it could take them hours to tie him down and pry the rocks from his trembling fingers. To put a rolled up rag into his mouth and silence the phrase he shouted over and over, summoning more demons into himself with each incantation: TORNA MIRA, TALIS EST COMODUM MILES BARBATI.
Sometimes, it took more than a day of being restrained that way for him to find himself again. They’d send children out to the edge of the town to listen, and when he finally went silent they’d travel back to free him from his chains. It was a beastly, shameful task every time, and Legion made it worse by never being angry. Without fail, the first thing he said every time the rag was removed was:
Συγγνώμη, δεν ήθελα να σε τρομάξω.
Forgive me, I did not mean to scare you.
Everyone knew that the way things were being handled wasn’t enough. Everyone, even Legion, knew how things would end. They just weren’t sure when.
It turned out that it was longer than six years.
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metalhead ghost who’s been in moshpits since he was a kid and is now a veteran of the scene and the self appointed look out. he keeps an eye out for anyone falling or passing out, kicks the shit out of anyone crowd killing or putting their hands where they shouldn’t
and he’s been keeping an eye on the punk in the kilt since he saw him throw himself headfirst into the wall of death
he looks like the type to start shit - loud and aggressive as anyone else here but a punk doesn't end up at a metal show for no reason - but there's also something niggling at him that he's gonna end up getting himself hurt. and ghost can’t tell if he’s going to do it on purpose
if he does, ghost needs to know. he uses these places as an escape - the music, the violence, the community - always has and he knows all to well how easily an escape can curdle and become destructive. he’s seen too many people lost to the darker parts of the scene, almost lost himself to it; he doesn’t want it to happen to anyone else if he can help it
so when he sees the punk sweating his mohawk off, his movements becoming looser and uncoordinated, he has no issues with yanking him out of the pit and pulling him away from the crowd; pushing him up against the venue wall and ordering him to open his mouth
the glaze that falls over his eyes concerns him even as he obediently lets his mouth fall open. he was right; the punk’s severely dehydrated, tongue and gums far to pale and along with the look in his eyes, he half-thinks he’s about to drop
he reflexively tightens his hold on his jaw to keep him up and the punk shivers, a flush creeping up his neck. an almost confused arousal joins the haze in his eyes and ghost smirks beneath his mask
looks like metal shows aren’t the only thing the punk is new to
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for Meg, cause you're having a hard week <33 @ellie-licious
now on ao3 here
-
"What the fuck is a snowman?"
Joel blinks, fingers still curled around the cup he just set down. It's early November and the universe has decided to fuck her over by sending Jackson one snow-heavy cloud after the other, topped off with an early overnight snow storm that left them with several inches of snow. The last few days have been rough for both of them, her nightmares crawling out from their hiding places like bloodhounds finding a promising trail, and Ellie has abandoned her bed for his with the first dusting of snow; her sheets are starting to collect dust.
She presses her hot cocoa closer to her chest to feel the warmth seep through her sweatshirt and the two layers of clothing beneath them, not that she needs them while inside, but it gives her a sense of protection, an armor to wear. Her plan for today is, well, was apparently, to curl up with Joel on the couch and either try to catch up on the sleep she is missing with the daylight ready to keep her vampiric memories away, or watch one movie after the other until she passes out from sheer exhaustion. Joel, however, is oddly motivated to get her distracted outside of the house rather than inside, and suggested making a snowman once the coffee machine stopped gurgling behind him on the counter.
"You have never built a snowman?"
"Joel, have you ever seen a FEDRA soldier that isn't allergic to everything remotely fun?"
He snorts, sipping his coffee with a smile tugging on his lips, and she tries to swallow enough of his happiness to replace hers, bits and pieces of it gradually disappearing into the cold.
"A snowman is pretty much what it says on the tin, you roll up a bunch of big snowballs, stack them on top of each other and give it a face."
Ellie tries to imagine it, blurry memories of her very first visit to Jackson scratching somewhere at the back of her mind, and while she can't come up with a satisfying enough picture, she's sure her creativity will make up for it. Then, the last part of Joel's sentence fully sinks in, and she surprises herself with the ball of excitement that makes her bounce, almost spilling her cocoa down the front of her shirt.
"A face, you say? Any face?"
Joel is very, very glad the mischievous glint in her eyes has found a different victim today.
The next five minutes are a messy rush as they wiggle themselves into their winter clothing and tie up their boots, almost tripping over each other more than once when Ellie is incapable of standing still, idea blooming in her head. Yesterday, the cold draft alone made her flinch, but when she rips open the door now, gloved up and with a beanie pulled deep into her face, the sting of snowflakes on her cheeks is powerless against her excitement.
Joel shows her how to form proper snowballs, not satisfied until he approves them as 'structurally sound', whatever the fuck that is supposed to mean, and once she gets the hang of it, her ambition rises to the sky. They spend over two hours rolling and pressing together an almost life-sized snow person, with Joel doing the heavy lifting and Ellie carving out more details and giving helpful instructions.
"To the left, no, my left Joel not yours. Lower, it's lopsided now, Joel I said left, are you deaf?"
He stops, snowball, well, snow boulder at this point, really, dangerously balanced against his hip.
"Right, yeah, you are. Still no excuse for sloppy work though," she continues, not the least bit apologetic, and her cheeks hurt with the smile frozen onto her face, Joel's eyes brimming with an adoration that makes her blush.
They are finally done around lunch time, only noticing they missed it when the first people start to trickle back to their houses, heads turning when they pass their front yard. The sky stayed a piercing blue all morning, not a single snowflake in sight anymore, and when she presses herself against Joel's side as tightly as she can with with half a person of fabric between them, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her in, she no longer needs his happiness to stay warm, brimming with her own. Joel nudges her hat to the side so he can press a kiss to their temple as they admire their piece of art.
The real fun happens a few seconds later, though, when familiar footsteps come up behind them.
"What- Joel what the fuck is that my jacket?"
The snowman is exactly as tall as Tommy, facial features intricately carved by Ellie, a threadbare black blanket imitating his hair, and, to top it all off, Ellie may or may not have stolen some of his brother's clothes to make it as true of an imitation of Tommy as a bunch of snow and stones can be. She turns around, still holding onto Joel, and the stunned look on Tommy's face melts away when he sees the smile on hers.
"He was cold, Tommy, and besides, it suits him way better than you."
Maybe winter isn't going to be so bad after all.
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[HoA Ramble] - How to "correctly" Genderbend Jason Kolchek ?
A thought popped into my mind regarding what would make the most sense for Genderbend!Jason to act like and now I'm unable to decide which character arc I like better.
In the game, Jason starts off acting like the most stereotypical American dude on planet earth. Exhibit A: He doesn't like getting emotionally vulnerable.
With that in mind, wouldn't it make more sense for Genderbend!Jason to retain the stereotypical image of an American, but only this time with female values on the forefront, so they could start growing from such a narrow mindset ?
When I do Genderbend Jason, I always go for the "Tomboy" route as that would have her retain Jason's canon brash personality and we get the same banter as we would do between the different characters in game, regardless of gender.
This is more of a ramble and maybe this kind of differentiation only makes sense to me, but now I'm wondering whether it is better to keep the character arc the same while Genderbending a character, or if it makes more sense to just keep them with the exact same personality traits they have from the game because ultimately they are the same character.
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