#or i guess i should say my peninsula?

[laurentarzan]

Feeling extra thankful for MWT and the queen's thief today 😌❤️

#my roman empire #or i guess i should say my peninsula? #megan whalen turner #the queen's thief #the queens thief

[andypantsx3]

support tech major graduate!reader becomes fast best friends with fuyumi after fuyumi moves into her new apartment and has no idea who fuyumi is related to, but thinks she looks kinda familiar. cue pro hero!shouto coming over for the first time to visit his big sister and getting the apartment numbers mixed up 🫢

"Hello-oooly shit," was the complete idiocy that escaped you.

The man at your front door stared down at you. 

He was tall and insensibly handsome, with a mop of scarlet and white hair and two mismatched eyes. He wore a dark turtleneck that stretched over a set of broad shoulders, belted neatly into a pair of jeans that clung tightly to his muscular thighs.

He had to be the most utterly perfect human being you had ever seen in person.

He was also absolutely, horrifyingly familiar.

Pro hero Shouto.

"You are not Fuyumi," he intoned, his voice low and soft, the way you'd heard it on a hundred TV broadcasts. Except it was also, inexplicably, slightly accusatory.

It took you an incredibly long moment to fish the name Fuyumi out of the recesses of your brain, and realize that you knew it.

Fuyumi was your neighbor a couple doors down—a white-haired, friendly girl who taught elementary school and baked what had to be the most unreasonably delicious welcome cookies this side of the Noto Peninsula.

And apparently, her family name was Todoroki.

"Neither are you," you said pointedly.

Pro hero Shouto blinked at you, long and slow like a cat. "I should hope not."

You stared up at him, absolutely mystified by this response. The hell did that mean? "Uh...good that we're on the same page then?" you ventured.

Shouto's brows creased ever-so-slightly, as if you were equally as mystifying to him. As though you were the one who had turned up at his apartment and accused him of not being someone.

Which—oh.

"You're looking for Fuyumi's apartment?" you guessed.

Shouto nodded, holding up a piece of scrap paper with your building's address noted in an utterly atrocious hand. You were immediately clear on how the mix up had happened.

"Oh! That's supposed to be a seven, I think," you said, touching the final digit of the unit number. "I'm three oh one, she's three oh seven. Did someone with a broken hand write this?"

You'd meant it as a joke, but Shouto floored you by nodding. "She called before medical check in," he said.

You could have slapped yourself. "Oh my god, I—you literally had a broken hand."

After he'd rescued someone, probably, too, and here you were being a dick about it!

"I'm so sorry, I'm such a weenie," you said. "Yeah, she's a few doors down that way, you should find her in a second. I—uh—it was cool to, um. Meet you. In person. She's—tell Fuyumi I said hi."

Shouto nodded seriously, pocketing the piece of paper. "Shall I tell her you say 'Hello-oooly shit'?" he asked.

You spluttered wildly, an embarrassed heat licking up your veins so fast you thought you might be spontaneously combusting.

"You—that's—! In my own home!" was all that you managed.

A tiny half-smile pulled at Shouto's mouth. He watched you for a long minute, those famous heterochromatic eyes flickering over your face.

 "Thank you for your help," he said finally, his voice going light and gentle. "I hope we will see each other again."

And then he stepped away from your door, and you had the good sense to gasp out a, "Yes! Goodbye!" and slam it shut behind him, your heartbeat racing.

A low, soft chuckle echoed in the hall.

And you wondered how soon, exactly, you might see Shouto Todoroki again.

I loved this idea, anon!! Thank you for letting me play with it!! 🥺

I hope you had a very excellent Shouto's Birthday lmao.

#ask andie

[beautiful-basque-country]

Wish's kingdom is not Africa and Spain, it's a fairytale nonexistent kingdom that was aesthetically inspired by the region, nothing more. Not a documentary or historical drama, just a cartoon 💜

Kaixo anon!

And if that was the case, I would have nothing to criticise. In fact, I've always said Disney should have stated they were inspired by instead of

Says director Fawn Veerasunthorn, “Rosas is an island at the southern tip of the Iberian Peninsula—it would logically have North African and Southern European influences. We also think that folks who traveled along the Silk Road might end up there.”[x]

Let me have my doubts about the aesthetic inspiration of the region, though.

I know it's not a documentary, anon, but I also know they messed up big time by stating WHERE EXACTLY the kingdom is. Should've known better by now, but I guess the exotic location was too juicy not to mention, and that's the basic point of my criticism: if a place IS in a certain area, better make that area and their people recognisable; if that's not what they're going for for a variety of reasons, shut your big mouth and don't say it IS here or there, say you got inspired by several parts of the world and save yourself from criticism. It's common sense and a sign of respect for the actual people living in the area you supposedly set your location in.

#wish 2023 #disney wish #representation #anons #is this becoming a disney blog? #off topic #animation

[quietlyimplode]

Black Widow Fest - Day Six

Stay Alive.

Warnings: broken bones and car chases, swearing?

Word Count: 2047

Pairing: Clint/Nat

@broken--bow asked - and I should have replied to the ask box rather than making a post, but we’ve come too far now - for a fic where (as in the hunger games with Peeta and Katniss) a simple thing is asked, to stay alive, even though it turns out to be one of the harder things to do. Ty for sending in solid asks, my friend, they are ⭐️.

“How is this the first time you’ve ever broken your collar bone?”

Clint shrugs, regrets it and pouts.

“Do broken collarbones always need surgery?” Natasha asks the doctor.

The doctor looks to her clipboard and then back to Clint.

“No, not always, but if you leave these things for a week and keep…”

She looks back down and quirks her eyebrows

“Keep shooting arrows and guns?”

Clint smiles, easily.

Natasha stands in front of him, knowing his fake smile hides the worry of questions he won’t ask.

“He’ll be able to shoot again, right? No problem?”

He peeks out from behind her to watch the doctor nod.

“Yes, of course, but he needs to let this heal, 4 weeks in a sling. And physiotherapy - the you need to follow - otherwise, you’ll always have pain and it will always not feel straight.”

Natasha smirks, sharing a look with Clint.

“Guess I won’t be coming with you then,” he says, holding her hand with his good one.

“Surgery is scheduled for around 1.30pm, don’t have any more to eat or drink.”

She turns to Natasha, “you’ll be here to pick him up?”

Natasha’s face turns sour.

“Uh, no actually. Maria will be here, um a friend. I’ll leave my number and her number here though, in case you need anything, or if he’s not being cooperative.”

“Hey,” Clint pipes up, “drugged me is delightful.”

The doctor puts her clipboard away, and nods.

“I’m sure Mr Barton. No food, no drink until we come and get you. Ms Romanoff, you can stay until he goes in if you want.”

Natasha nods, sighing softly as she sits down next to him

“You’ll be okay here without me?” she asks, guilt on her face.

“Of course,” he tells her, “it’s a simple operation, no gunshot wounds, no knife wounds, no complex broken bones or head injury. It’s easy in and out.”

Natasha smirks again, “that’s what she said.”

Clint laughs and winces.

“Where are they sending you?” he asks, knowing she’s now going alone.

“Vladivostok.”

“You’re not.”

His stomach drops.

“Nat, you’re going into Russia, alone?”

She swallows and nods with a small smile. More of a grimace, he thinks.

He wants nothing more than to talk this through with her, tell her not to go, and hug her tight.

“I’m the only one that knows the dialect.”

He hates this.

He also hates that if he hadn’t asked, she wouldn’t have said anything, not complained, just gone.. Whilst he was under and couldn’t do anything.

He still can’t. He’s going into surgery, and she’s going to Russia alone.

The laughter from seconds ago is now abject fear for her.

The small peninsula town.

Anyone could spot her.

Know her.

Take her.

“It’s only for a day, not even. More like hours. In and out,” she tries.

He tries too.

“That’s what she said.”

Except this time, they both don’t laugh.

He moves over in the single bed and motions for her to sit.

Hesitating slightly, she crawls next to him.

Using his good arm he encircles her and kisses the top of her head.

“You’ll be okay?” he whispers.

The nurse comes in and cocks her head at the way they’re curled.

“I need to put the drip in, Mr Barton,” she tells him.

Natasha starts to move away, the nurse stops her, tells her to stay.

“I can move around you, don’t move, hun.”

Clint looks away as his vein is pierced.

“All done,” she says, moving away.

“They’ll be back in fifteen minutes to take you up, okay?”

She turns to Natasha, “you can stay in the waiting room, but it may be a while.”

Natasha looks at her watch.

“No, it’s okay I need to leave soon anyway.”

The nurse nods and leaves the room.

He continues to hold her, bring her head down so that it’s touching his.

“I have to go,” she sighs, not moving a muscle.

“When exactly will you be home?”

“Tuesday 11.20pm, the flight should land.”

She really is counting down the time.

“Stay Alive,” Clint tells her, looking at her directly in the eyes.

Slowly she manoeuvres her body out, kisses him softly and breathes him in.

“Maria will be here when you wake up, and I’ll be fine, I promise.”

He growls, the sound low and guttural.

“Promise me again.”

“I promise.”

One last kiss and she finally stands.

“Stay alive, Natasha,” his voice commanding.

Head butting him again, and one last peck, she waves off his worry and leaves the hospital room as the nurse returns.

She says something to the nurse that he can’t hear but he lays back in his worry and prays the next two days go quickly.

.

Vladivostok is not what she expected, or remembered.

Slightly removed from the mainland, Natasha sighs and pushes down the apprehension.

The last time she was here, she has visited a widow and his daughter, made them give her information. It had been a pleasant trip, ending with some candy.

The hire car is slow, white and generic and the gps guides her to the meet with the man Fury had deemed worthy of her time.

Clint would be out of surgery now, she hopes anyway. She wants to message Maria and make sure they’re all okay, but her cloned phone doesn’t have the level of security and her own phone is in the locker at the airport.

She was now Rosa Tuttle for all intents and purposes, and so she acted as such.

Blonde wig.

Long nails.

Make up to change the structure of her face.

She was not Natasha Romanoff.

And she was not worried about her partner.

The café is a small hole in the wall.

Posters line the walls, maybe to cover some holes, the corners peeling and old. The old woman approaches her, scarf covering her hair as she shuffled around.

Natasha orders the strongest coffee she can think and the woman nods with a gentle smile.

She faces the door, eyes on the two exits and waits.

The man that enters afterwards is dishevelled; her mark clearly.

“Hello,” she smiles.

He hands her an envelope and looks around in vigilance.

Natasha has seen this before, the skittishness of man who is too stupid to follow the basic instructions. They think they’re smarter and can be better at basic espionage than the people they’re informing on.

“You didn’t follow the rules, did you Igor?”

He looks behind him, and the car he’s parked haphazardly out the front.

“It’s fine. We do this quickly. This is the information. Where is my money?”

Natasha shakes her head.

“No, it is not fine. You think you weren’t being watched? That the Komutet Gosudarstvennoi Bezopasnosti, don’t have eyes everywhere, even here in Vladivostok?”

He looks guilty, shocked and scared, and knows she’s right. Especially when a large black car pulls up next to his blue one.

Natasha sighs heavily, looks to the back exit and pushes him towards it.

She apologizes to the woman and tells her to tell them which way they’ve gone. She doesn’t want the elderly woman’s blood on her hands.

Natasha’s car is old, but the fact that everyone here has a similar one, she’s confident of losing the tail they’ll surely have.

“Get in.”

The words are said harshly as he moves slowly, fear locking him up and making him move slow.

He does eventually and she drives away carefully.

The KGB knows though.

She sometimes forgets how much autocracy it is here, and how closely the citizens are watched.

“Igor. How long have they been watching you for?”

“They aren’t. They’re not, they..” he stutters, looking back around at the cars that surround him.

There’s two options Natasha can think of.

Run and hide.

Fight.

Neither are good options.

If they hide, she’s not making her flight.

Not going home to Clint and spending another day in a country she feels least safe in.

Fight.

Well there’s an option that she’s not getting out alive if she does that.

“Igor, you’re not helping yourself.”

The first shot ricochets off the car, and Natasha’s mind is made up.

Fight it is.

Calling quickly off the sat com phone, she puts the distress through, finding Fury on the other end.

Whilst not strange in itself, she knows there are others who could be on the night phone for this.

“Ah, we are coming in hot, the idiot didn’t follow procedures, and we have the KGB on our tail. Any exit plan?”

Fury’s silent and considering as she hears him typing and then..

“There’s a boat, the contact will meet you in 15 minutes if you can get there.”

Natasha looks down and nods.

“Affirmative, we’ll be there.”

Igor looks terrified.

There’s cars around them and although there’s still bullets flying, Natasha’s mind is clear.

“What did he say?” Igor asks.

She ignores him.

The side street she turns down is narrow enough that only one car can follow and she tells Igor to get ready to move.

He doesn’t need to, the car is hit on the side at full speed and it flips into the nearby building. Natasha is held by her seatbelt, but Igor, who never wore his, is thrown out of the car through the windshield.

Natasha assumes he’s dead on impact, not moving, his body brokenly laying on the asphalt.

She has bigger issues.

Held by a seatbelt that didn’t release, upside down and a dripping blood nose, she works at wiggling out.

Clint’s voice echoes in her head.

Her knife finally cuts through the seatbelt and she’s dumped upside down onto the ceiling of the car.

Pain pulses through the her left arm.

Ignoring it, she crawls out, grabbing the files she came for.

She needs to disappear, get out of here and get to the rendezvous point in less than ten minutes.

Natasha wipes her face.

Her wig now askew.

If she takes it off, there’s a greater chance of being recognised for who she is.

If she doesn’t, they’ll find her quick.

If only she had time to go back to the airport.

Natasha rolls her eyes, remembering. Her phone and her jacket.

Fuck.

Wiping the blood from her nose, she hopes Fury can send someone for them.

She hates starting a new phone again. In reality she shouldn’t have taken it but she was worried about Clint being in surgery. It feels stupid now. It was just resetting the bone.

Deciding on removing the wig and tying her hair up, she changes her appearance quickly.

Her arm hurts.

Quickly checking, she finds the quickest way to the port, and moves.

7 minutes.

At 3 minutes she finds the boat.

At two minutes, she’s on the boat.

And as time is up, they’re moving out of the port and she’s in the cabin, with the captain by the name of Ned steering her away.

.

“Broken collarbone? You’re kidding me.”

Clint laughs, arm in a sling.

“She what?”

The doctor points to the break and tells them again.

“When you landed, you must have landed on your shoulder because it looks like it’s a kind of green stick fracture. Unlike his, which needed surgery, it’s likely yours will just heal with immobilization and a sling.”

Clint laughs again, gleefully.

“Matching slings!”

Natasha rolls her eyes.

“How long am I benched for?”

The doctor looks to Clint, and then back to Natasha.

“You’ll probably be going back at the same time.”

“Six weeks?!” Natasha exclaims incredulously.

The doctor nods.

“If you both immobilize it, do the rehab and take care of it.”

Clint smiles.

“Don’t worry, Doc. She has a good right hand and I have a good left one. We’ll be a good team.”

The doctor remains straight faced, then can’t hide her smile as Clint helps Natasha back up.

She sets Natasha up with a sling and teaches her how to strap it.

Watching the two spies leave, the doctor watches as Clint readjusts their positions so he can half hug her.

Even though she hopes to never see them, she knows it’s likely they’ll be back before she knows it.

.

#bwfest2023 #natasha romanoff #clintasha #black widow #clint barton #my fic #natasha romanoff fic #clintasha fanfiction #clintasha fanfic #hawkeye #marvel fic #clintasha fic #ask away

[chojrak-making-things]

Today I want to show you world that was made almost 6 years ago, and has been pretty forgotten by now. This world is called Mandora and it’s mild exotic island made by GreenPhoenix. It wasn’t fully released as an alpha, but was in the making in 2017 and was released as beta, for testing. For me it looks like finished, and since download is still publicly available, I decided to remind about this gem. This world come with a save file, so it’s populated.

To download, you need to go to *this thread* at ModTheSims, scroll down to post #18 written by GreenPhoenix, and at the end of this post you’ll see attached files of world and save file.

This world requires all expansion packs except for Supernatural. From Stuff Packs it uses Outdor Living Stuff and Town Life Stuff. No store or CC as far as I know. All other information you can find in thread linked above.

I encourage to leave original water color, at least for first time, because world looks really pretty with it.

More pictures under the cut

...

This is town centre and first district of houses (more towards bottom)

It has nice cafe and arcade.

You can also find this nice little park with playground and fishing spot.

And alley with houses that looks kind of exotic (?) I guess. Most of them have one color as a scheme, for both interiors and outside. They’re covered in corrugated sheet.

Interior of one of the houses, lilac one.

Second district is more towards middle of island. It’s heavy brick and industrialized area. Though very clean and chic in that matter.

It has apartments too!

and cute little coffehouse. You’ll find a surprise in basement, lol.

Driving towards other edge of island, you’ll find swamp area and farm district.

Houses in farm area are very detailed and well made.

They have even sloped roofs with beams and wood textures. Debug lights were used on outside to light the whole building evenly.

On top of island there’s area with more suburban and regular style of houses. I would say the most neutral ones. Seems spacious and good for big families.

And on this flat peninsula bellow you’ll find futuristic houses. Also rainbow colored. These seems more expensive ones.

Recently I was also wondering, that since most colors are segregated and prescribed for certain houses, this world would be good for Not So Berry Challenge. 

...

There are also multiple houseboats closer to the centre. In one of them lives a lady who loves lilac color and animal prints, so some interiors despite one color or one shade, are very characteristic.

and the creator didn’t forget about diving places either! So definitely a good choice if you’re looking for light substitute of Isla Paradiso. For sure it is less laggy.

Around 2017, when I had first time Mandora in my game, I felt like this town lacks of certain spontaneity and crazyness, but now I see I just wasn’t paying attencion to details. Usually exotic worlds attacks you with dense jungle or orgy of colors and patterns, but this one seems more calm, orderly, and tidy. I think it’s cool we have now something made in that way.

I was lurking on MTS while this world was in making, but had problems with my account and finally didn’t write anything there. It’s specific site, and I felt unmeritoric comments wouldn’t be welcomed in world making section. Though I felt like I should at least somehow cheer, because encouragement is always nice during such a long projects. I’m sure author had a blog with process of making, maps and addresses of certain lots, but I can’t find a link now. Don’t know if it was on tumblr or other platform. I think it was blogspot or wordpress more likely. So if you find it by a chance, please post link in comments.

Thanks for reading!

...

#ts3 custom world #ts3 worlds to see #ts3 world overview #ts3 #the sims 3 #sims 3

[tierra-paldeana]

( ge.eta-related fun facts! )

// okay, here comes a ge.eta-related infodump-

as someone from spain, i need to say that ge.eta isn't really south asian/indian, but ca.lé (iberian, and especially spanish, ro.mani). i am aware that ro.mani people in general have been suggested to have originated in india though, which explains this widespread belief in the fandom i guess?, and if true would mean it isn't 100% incorrect (i thought it was outright confirmed but apparently it's still debated? apologies if i'm wrong on that front), but there's plenty of proof in her design, team set-up and even her battle theme to demonstrate that she's cal.é/rom.ani

(as a disclaimer, while i am not ca.lé myself, i am from spain and live in an area widely populated by ca.lé people, so i am just giving my two cents, as ca.lé people have influenced and created very representative parts of our culture as a whole, and should be talked about more often!):

her battle theme features instruments and cadences that are common in flamenco (spanish guitar) and pasodoble (trumpets), with flamenco being a spanish music genre which has been agreed upon was created by the andalusian ca.lé, and pasodoble being also a music genre that's prominently featured in bullfighting, whose origins aren't all very clear, but is agreed to have both spanish and french origins (which ties into things that are discussed below). while i'm not super familiar with the french side of things, chunks of her theme are also extremely reminiscent of music featured in the kalos games.

design wise, she follows the very common artistic representation, from her beautifully thick eyebrows to the golden accents in her clothes and bits in her parted pitch black hair and even in her eyes - golden accessories, especially worn around the neck, are a symbol of high status and wealth in ca.lé society, tying nicely into her champion position.

most ca.lé people live in spain, with smaller populations in portugal and southern france, and this is mirrored in her Pokémon team, with Pokémon first introduced in paldea (espathra, glimmora, kingambit, veluza) and kalos (gogoat, avalugg + chesnaught in the DLC). espathra being in her team and being based on an ostrich and on cleopatra could also be a nod to the (very erroneous, mind you) belief that ro.mani people originated from egypt.

her english and spanish names, gee.ta and ságita, both reference the scientific name of the threeleaf arrowhead (Sa(gitta)ria trifolia), as well as sound very similar to the spanish exonym used by payos (non-calé) to refer to the ro.mani, gitan.o. sagitta comes from latin (meaning 'arrow'), which imo lends itself into the zodiac constellation Sagittarius, referencing ties rom.ani/ca.lé people have to fortune-telling, seen as an exclusively female profession in their culture.

there's probably other things that i'm missing or have forgotten, but those were the ones that stood out to me the most- from the moment i saw her in the first trailers, she struck me as super familiar in vibes, and after a bit of both digging and consideration, i feel super happy to see such nice ca.lé representation in a pokémon game based on the iberian peninsula, my homeland!

while doing research for this, i learned that the exonym used to refer to romani people in english and the one in spanish come from the same erroneous belief that they came from egypt. in english, said exonym can be and is often viewed by english-speaking ro.mani people as offensive, but the spanish equivalent isn't really seen that way where i live, which is why i use the spanish one but not the english one! just wanted to clarify-

#( ooc ); #( long post ); #( just fun observations and clarifications imo! she's my fav champion of all time #and one of the biggest reasons is because of all the cultural inspiration i see in her!! it's super mind-blowing if you look into it!! ) #( PERSONALS DON'T REBLOG )

[useless-catalanfacts]

Hi, I don’t know if this is too intense but I wanna share it. My family is originally from Catalonia, but I was born in USA and they left during Franco era. They had always said they’re only Catalan as a child I never knew what Spain was, since my grandparents were abused and they only spoke and identified as Catalan even born in the USA, people would ask me where I’m from and I’d say Catalonia, they’d look at me like I’m some kind of lunatic because they didn’t know what it was!!!My grandma would tell me not to learn the Spanish language when I grew up and learned more about Spanish oppression because it’s so ugly and hurt Catalans. I wonder if such phenomenon still exist in Iberian peninsula. I would like to visit someday to discover my roots. ( btw I don’t hate Spaniards or Spanish, it’s a thing of the past and I understand my grandparents pain).

Thank you for sharing.

It's true many people don't know what Catalonia is - which is fine, I don't expect every person in the world to know all the nations of the world, like I don't know all the nations in other continents either. But the problem is how many people, instead of taking it as a moment to learn, just insist it doesn't exist, you're crazy for saying it, etc.

For the second part of your ask, I'm surprised to hear this reaction, of course resenting what was done to them is normal (and they should resist it!) but I had never before heard anyone go as far as tell someone not to learn Spanish or call it ugly. I don't think it's necessary to call any language ugly to point out that it was and is a tool of oppression. I don't think this happened much neither in the peninsula nor in the diaspora, judging for my own relatives in Venezuela descendant of my great-grandparents who also went on exile and other diaspora I know from Costa Rica and Cuba, though I guess all of them moved to places where Spanish is the main language spoken.

However, I can understand how liberating it would have been for them to have a child who can grow up speaking Catalan and not Spanish, considering how they (and us still) are forced to know Spanish.

#ask #anonymous

[theshippirate22]

All Too Well (Steddie Version)

part 2! part 1

or read it on ao3!

Steve felt perfectly sick. If it was any later, he would get out of bed and start getting ready for work, but it was still the middle of the night, only about two a.m., so to do anything but lay there was pointless. 

He rolled on his side, hoping to kill the feeling in his stomach, to relax enough to sleep. He knew he wouldn’t, but it felt like he should try. 

Everything remotely good that had happened that year was long gone. He could still picture it after all these days, but the magic of it was missing and now it just made him ill. 

“Where are you going?” 

“I’m taking you home.”

“This is not the way to my house.” Steve looked out the window at the little town street he knew as well as his hands.

“Didn’t say your house, now did I?”  Eddie grinned at him.

Steve smirked back, tearing his sight away to push his hair out of his face. The AC had broken in the van, so all the windows were down, and the wind was forcing his hair away from where he liked it. 

“Stop looking at me!” He rolled his eyes. “I can feel your eyes burning into me, Munson.”

“Can’t help it. You’re pretty, you know that?”

Steve opened his mouth to argue, blush creeping up to his ears, but couldn’t find any words to defend himself. Eddie had called him pretty so many times before; why did he still lose all higher cognitive function when he said it? He could hardly breathe...

He couldn’t meet Eddie’s gaze, even though he could still feel it against the side of his head, deciding instead to look straight ahead. 

“What, are you shy, sweetheart?” Eddie brushed a stray piece of Steve’s hair from his face, laughing softly to himself. “Guess you haven’t heard it enough. You are pretty. Prettiest boy I know.”

“Stop it.” Steve swatted him off, still not meeting his eye so as not to encourage him, but that didn’t stop the soft smile taking control of his face. “Stop it, pay attention. You’re driving. Stop it! Look, that’s a red light!”

Eddie glanced at it, bursting into a grin as the light immediately went green and he coasted through it. 

“See? Even traffic thinks you’re pretty. Wants me to look at you.”

It was raining. Steve could hear it pounding against the windows. Against the roof. 

He rolled over to look outside. He’d been sleeping with the blinds open for weeks. He hadn’t really slept for a long time, and it was easier to see if the sun was up so he could stop lying there miserably.

It had to have been raining for a long time, because everything he could see was thoroughly soaked, but the sound had just managed to reach him. Maybe he’d fallen asleep for just a second there, and if he focused hard on the sound of the downpour against the glass, he could do it again. 

Worth a shot. It’s not like he had any other plans.

“Hey!” Eddie ran from the other side of the trailer. “Absolutely not! Wayne, put it away. I swear to God...!”

Steve took the leather photo album from where Wayne held it out to him. “What have you got in here, Munson?”

“No. No, give it to me, Steve.” 

Eddie tried to take the book from him, but Steve just lifted it above his head and laughed, swatting him away as he jumped to grab it. 

“Give it to me!”

“Let him look, kid.” Wayne leaned back against the sink, almost smiling.

“Steve!”

“Oh, did I just find a way to embarrass the Eddie Munson?” Steve chuckled, leaning over the peninsula and opening the photo album so he could better look at it. 

Eddie groaned, letting his head fall into his hands. “Jesus Christ...”

Steve brushed his fingertips over the faded Polaroids and the tiny body of young Eddie. He was skinny and pale, even more so than he was now. He had his head buzzed and a broad, innocent smile that was long gone from his lips. Now, his smile was usually cynical and sardonic, and if he really meant it, it was nothing more than a soft shadow of the one in the pictures. 

The pictures were mostly birthday parties, parks, pools. His childhood mirrored Steve’s, but they were on opposite sides. Eddie’s birthday parties were Wayne, his mom, and a homemade cake, candles lit with a cigarette lighter. Steve’s birthday parties were his entire elementary school class, a massive raspberry filled sheet cake with his name on it in bright blue icing, and sparklers in the yard. Same feeling, different world. 

“That’s from his first tee-ball game.” Wayne murmured as Steve turned to the page. He eyed Eddie to see if he’d snap, then continued when he didn’t. “He ran over to me and his mom screaming ‘I got a home run!’”

“Oh God.” Eddie buried his face in his hands again, turning bright red. “Please. Stop. I’m begging. Steve, have you no empathy?”

“You’re cute.” Steve mumbled. “You look so happy.”

“Ughhh! You’re awful!”

“Oh hush, kid.” Wayne tousled his hair, pushing past him to get another beer. 

It was a few hours later, after Steve had fully exploited finding one of his pressure points, that Eddie even dared mention it. 

“You’re gonna have to show me your kid pictures now. You do know that, right? It’s only fair after you tortured me.”

Steve lifted his head from where he was lying next to him on the floor, stuck in a sort of sleepy haze from the lateness of the hour. “You don’t want to see mine.”

“No, no, I do.”

Steve shook his head softly. “No, uh, they aren’t... happy. Not like yours. I’m pretty miserable in ‘em... I was miserable for a long time...”

Eddie didn’t answer. 

Steve thought maybe he’d upset him. It was always hard to tell what he was thinking, especially for Steve, who already had a hard time reading people. He needed him to say something, anything. 

Eddie reached for him, fingertips brushing over his wrist. He forced open the fist Steve had subconsciously made and laced their fingers together.

“What were you like?” He mumbled. “When you were little?”

“You wouldn’t have liked me.”

“Mm, probably not.”

They both laughed softly, shoulders shuddering against each other. 

“I was a dorky little kid with a bowl cut and glasses,” Steve murmured. He figured he owed him that much, at least.

“A bowl cut? You telling me Little Byers has a chance of becoming The Hair?”

“Only when I was little. By the time I was, like, eight, it was more like this. Byers is beyond saving.” 

Eddie chuckled, rubbing his thumb over Steve’s. 

“I had a twin-sized bed with monster truck sheets, and I played basketball, soccer, and football, and I was so mean.” Steve sighed. “I didn’t realize for a long time what a jerk I am.”

“You’re not a jerk now.” Eddie corrected softly. “You were- don't get me wrong- but not anymore. Now you’re just a weirdo.”

“Oh, wow, thanks.” He rolled his eyes, smirking.

“No, that’s a good thing! I’m a weirdo, too, right? I like to think I’m not so bad.”

“You’re not so bad at all, Eds.” He gently squeezed his hand. It was nice to have it there; the feeling was more secure than Steve had felt in a long time. 

Why had Steve even bothered to tell him about his past? To tell him anything? He knew the reason, but he didn’t like how impossibly stupid he felt when he thought about it. 

He told him about his past, expecting him to be there in his future. 

The irony of it. Steve thought of that night a lot. 

Here they were, both of them, in the future, just not near each other’s at all. It was so surreal to have a broken promise like that. 

Robin wouldn’t even talk about him. As if she thought Steve couldn’t bear to even hear his name. Which wasn’t true, of course. 

He thought about him constantly. 

He couldn’t decide though: Would he rather hear about him being okay, having a life and being fine? Moving on, even though Steve felt like he had died? Or was it better to suffer and drown in the memories? Hope Eddie was doing the same thing on the other side of town?

Maybe it was a good thing Robin didn’t talk about him. 

“Hey! Catch!” Steve threw the keys to the Beemer at Eddie. 

Eddie shrieked, flinching as the keys hit him in the arm and fell to the ground. “What the hell?!”

“You should drive. You know where we’re going, and I don’t.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “You’re gonna let me drive your baby?”

“I trust you.”

“Bad choice, Harrington.” He grinned, plucking the keychain up and sliding into the driver’s seat. 

Robin and Nancy piled into the backseat with Steve on the passenger side.

“I’ve never been to a protest,” Nancy said. She only had half a face of makeup, and currently, Robin was holding a mirror so she could perfect her eyeliner. 

“Oh, they’re so much fun! Eds, remember what happened last summer with the cops?”

“I remember.” He chuckled, looking back at her through the rearview mirror. “That was awesome.”

Steve turned, half facing Eddie, half facing the girls. “Remind me what exactly it is we’re protesting.”

“The patriarchy, probably,” Robin said, spitting out the word like it tasted bad and rolling her eyes.

“What’s wrong with the patriarchy? I’m not arguing; I really don’t know.”

Nancy pursed her lips, smoothing rose-colored blush along her cheeks. “Oh, fuck the patriarchy.”

The others were caught off guard by the comment; Nancy wasn’t one to curse. She was really serious.

Eddie laughed in surprise, and agreed, “Fuck the patriarchy!”

“Fuck the patriarchy!” Robin fell back against the seat, kicking excitedly. “Fuck the fucking patriarchy!”

“Ahhahaha!” Eddie tapped ecstatically on the top of the steering wheel. “Fuck the patriarchy.”

Steve grinned. He couldn’t fight it. It had been too long since they had done something normal. Since they’d been so excited about something other than staying alive. 

Eddie looked absolutely radiant, tangled curls tied back with the black bandana he usually kept in his back pocket, palms loose against the wheel of the Beemer- Steve’s Beemer-with the afternoon sun blazing over him. 

Steve felt something stirring, deep inside of him, like he’d never felt before. A kind of hot longing in the very darkest depths of his stomach. A dissatisfaction that couldn’t be satiated with stolen glances and sleepy exchanges, and he still couldn’t seem to draw his eyes away.

God, Eddie was beautiful.

“What do you say, Stevie?” Eddie asked, startling him out of his trance, and just like that, the feeling was completely gone. 

“Fuck the patriarchy.” Steve mumbled, suddenly remembering where he was, so over-takingly weak with admiration.

The feeling had come back, later that night. Eddie had realized he’d forgotten to tell his Uncle where he was going. “Just want to him to know I’m not skipping town.”

“Do you do that a lot?” Steve had jabbed, elbowing him playfully. 

“If it weren’t for Hopper, I’d be wanted for murder in the state of Indiana, and most people still think I should be. So yeah, I’m always skipping town.”

He was currently leaned back, shoulders against the wall of the phone booth, hips thrust forward in a position that couldn’t possibly be comfortable. 

Steve stood just across the little diner, waiting with Robin while Nancy ordered, and there it was again. The simple inability to tear his sight away, the feeling drawing, dragging him towards Eddie like any more distance between them might tear Steve’s heart straight out of his body. 

“You know,” Robin murmured, following his sight. “I was thinking on the drive down...”

He could hear her voice, but it sounded distant and full of static. Like she wasn’t there with him, rather, she was over the radio in a different town. “Hmm?” He forced out, because he knew she was talking, but he just couldn’t seem to understand any of it. 

“He’s gonna say it’s...” She trailed off. 

Steve didn’t ask her what she thought, because he knew that too. The thought was horrifying and awful, and to think of the word she meant was almost enough to kill the ecstasy he was feeling.

He’s gonna say it’s love.

He never called it what it was. 

That was on Steve, and he would have to take the blame for it. Maybe if he hadn’t been so...  afraid, it would’ve lasted longer. Maybe he could’ve fixed things if he had just said it.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be in love with Eddie, that was never the problem. He was just so scared that love was too strong a word, and Steve would fall too fast. It would be Nancy and senior year all over again.

The guilt was awful. To think maybe he could’ve done something to change this... He could usually forget about it long enough to forget why he needed to. 

“There you are.”

Eddie sat in the dark of the Harrington kitchen, knees pulled awkwardly to his chest and wedged under the lip of the table, despite the uncomfortable length of his lanky legs, white mug clasped in his hands. “Uh, yeah... I, uh, made some tea, I hope that’s okay.”

Steve smiled softly at the sight of him, wrapped in one of Steve’s blankets in Steve’s kitchen drinking Steve’s tea. “Yeah, you can have whatever you want. Don’t tell Henderson that, though. One time he drank an entire gallon of milk while he was over.”

Eddie laughed once, but it fell flat, forced out. He took a sip of his drink to hide his face. 

Steve lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper and leaned against the counter, all traces of humor gone. “Do you hurt? You need some Advil?”

Eddie glanced down at his stomach- scratches and tears slowly healing into thick, white scars- with a disinterest as if he’d forgotten they were there. “No, I’m alright.”

“Another nightmare?”

The silence was answer enough.

“I told you to wake me up,” Steve murmured, crossing to stand over him and smooth some of his frizzy curls down. “That’s why you’re here.”

“I thought I did.” He leaned into his hand against his forehead. “That’s why you came down, isn’t it?” 

“No, actually. I woke up because I’m starving and then you weren’t there. Do you... wanna talk about it? The nightmare, I mean.”

“Not particularly, no.”

“That’s fine. I’m happy to listen if you change your mind.” He crossed back across the kitchen to open the fridge. “You want a snack? We’ve got string cheese, apples, Cheetos... popcorn, Eggos...”

“...Steve?”

He turned around, abandoning the idea of food, because Eddie sounded so desperate and unlike himself, it scared him. “Yeah? What can I get you?”

Eddie swallowed to keep his voice from breaking, but it did anyway. “Will... Will you just hold me?”

Steve nodded intently. He left the fridge open, forgetting its existence entirely, and strode quickly to meet him halfway, pulling him against himself as tightly as he could. 

Eddie roped his arms around his neck, blanket slipping from his shoulders, pulling himself in so he could rest his head on Steve’s shoulder, and Steve tightened his arms around his waist to close the space and rub lightly across the base of Eddie’s shoulder blades. 

He didn’t cry, even though they both expected him to. The worst of it was wet, shuddery breaths against Steve’s collarbone and fingers locked in his hair like he’d fall apart if he didn’t hold on. 

Steve’s hot exhale danced over his ear and across the back of his neck. “It’s okay…You’re gonna be okay…”

“Don’t let me go.” Eddie moaned miserably. 

“I’m not gonna let you go. I won’t let go of you.”

The only way to describe the way they held onto each other was desperately. They clung to each other in the dark, like it was the only way they could possibly be safe from everything.

“I’m not gonna let you go.”

Steve’s hands slipped under the hem of Eddie’s shirt, wanting, needing to be closer, and his fingertips brushed softly over where the scars lanced across his stomach and dipped down onto his hips below his waistband. Even though he was gentle, there were still places that would make Eddie suck in a sharp breath if Steve touched them. 

Eddie had stopped letting him look at them, the scabs and the scars, a month or so after Steve had stopped cleaning and bandaging them twice a week. He suspected Eddie hated them. Hated the way they were permanently there marring his skin. But Steve was relieved, running his hands over the smooth, uneven skin, to know they had healed okay. They weren’t nearly as bad as he’d imagined they would be.

The fridge started to whine, lamenting the fact that it had been neglected with its contents exposed, but the sound blurred into the background noise of the house. All Steve could hear was Eddie’s breathing, ragged and stressed, like he couldn’t come to grips with everything. He probably couldn’t; it had taken Steve years, and he still got upset over things that seemed stupid- needles, blindfolds, too-loud clocks...

Eddie’s fingers relaxed slowly, releasing the tight grip in Steve’s hair so he could draw his arms back into himself and pull away. “I’m sorry. Sorry. That was weird. Sorry.”

Steve loosened his hands from around his waist but didn’t let go, rubbing the hem of his shirt between his fingers. “It... wasn’t.” The hesitation was in surprise; it didn’t feel strange at all to be so close to him, even though he’d never even held Nancy like this, and he had been in love with her.

“You don’t... have to be nice...” Eddie said, attempting to extract himself again, flushed and embarrassed. “I should probably go. Like, home. My uncle’s probably worried.”

“I said I wasn’t going to let you go.”

Steve wasn’t sure where that had come from, even as it left his own mouth, because he was acutely aware of everywhere his body was pressed against Eddie’s and he could barely breathe, but it seemed to work, because Eddie stopped pushing away from him and relaxed back into his hold.

“Are you okay?” He murmured, pulling his hand from under his shirt and tucking some of Eddie’s hair away. 

Eddie sighed exhaustedly and muttered, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

��I mean right now. I know you will be. I’ll make sure of that. But are you okay right now, at this moment?”

He shrugged. 

“Stay,” Steve whispered. “I know you want to run, but you said you wouldn’t do that anymore. Stay with me. Okay?”

“...Okay.” Eddie agreed softly. 

“Okay.” He echoed, to make it seem final. He pushed the hair off Eddie’s forehead and kissed him lightly at the tense spot where his eyebrows met before he realized what he was doing. He pulled back quickly, eyes wide, yanking his hands awkwardly into his chest, folded into loose fists.

“That was weird. Sorry.”

Eddie grinned softly. “It wasn’t.”

 Steve opened his mouth to say something, but there weren’t any words and before he could come up with anything, Eddie traced along his jaw and up across his cheek, pushing up on his toes to lean in. 

He bit his bottom lip tentatively and stared at Steve with the doe eyes, waiting for something. Anything. 

“Can I kiss you?”

The feeling was there, begging for them to be close, like their own personal gravity. Even though something tugged at Steve, that he shouldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t ignore the draw between them. Couldn’t fight the agony in being apart...

Steve tipped his head forward and filled the space. 

The first kiss was slow and careful, reserved. Like both of them were waiting for the other to pull away and laugh it off. It didn’t happen though, and the break was gentle and natural. 

Eddie chuckled softly, leaning back against the counter and pulling Steve with him, fingers interlocked against the back of his neck to bring him back towards him and cover his grin with his own.

Steve linked his thumbs under the elastic waistband of Eddie’s sweats. The feeling was burning him, electric under where Eddie’s lips moved against his, where his hands pinched the rough hair on the back of his neck.

Holy shit.

Was this what he had been missing out on for all these months? This taste and this feeling and Eddie. It was all Eddie.

When they finally separated, Steve leaned his forehead against Eddie’s, heavy breath dancing over his face. 

“You okay?” Eddie mumbled, soft enough that it almost hid his concern, but not quite. Did he think Steve was gonna bolt? Where was he going to go, they were in his own damn kitchen.

“Wanted to do that for a long time.” Steve murmured, smiling lightly. 

“You should’ve.” Eddie stole another short kiss. “Coward.”

There was a sort of euphoria between them that couldn’t quite be explained. It wasn’t a drug high sort of euphoria, or even a satiated kind. Maybe it was that they were here, together. At this moment. And somehow, in the expanse of all the time and people on Earth, they had found each other. And, if they were daring enough to say it, they loved each other.

For a long time, they held each other in the dark, laughing and kissing, swaying- almost dancing- around in the yellow light of the long-abandoned refrigerator.

@maya-custodios-dionach and @long-live-taylorswift

*if you wanna be added to the tag list message me! the whole thing is written and i’ll add a chapter every day*

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #all too well taylor's version #all too well (10 minute version) #steddie fic #steddie angst #steddie au #steddie fluff #steddie fanfic #angst with a happy ending

[mrsaguapapi]

Ch 1

Chapter 2

Strange Discoveries

The Vibe: 

Exploration

I Step through the portal and enter the city streets of Merida. This city is beautiful; lively colors cover the unique buildings, and the busy people quite literally fill the city with laughter and joy. The air is fresh and warm; everything here is just full of life.

Slowly looking around, I whisper happily to myself "The energy here is immaculate."

I find my way to a farmers market and find the first street food I could see. I ended up getting, Salbutes, a local dish. It's a fried tortilla topped with shredded turkey, cabbage, pickled red onion, avocado, and pickled jalapeños. I ate 3 in a matter of minutes. Before I could get more, I hear a hushed whisper in my ear.

"Come to me, In ch'ujuk paal (my sweet child)"

The voice this time was clearly female; she spoke firmly but gentle. I whisper "Hey lady, I'm getting pretty sick of the whispering."

I'm gonna take a wild guess and say the beach in my dream is real and here somewhere. I find a bench to sit at and grab a map of the Yucatán Peninsula from my bag.

A little locator spell should do the trick.

I grab some dirt from the ground and place it on the map; holding my hand over it I close my eyes and focused on my intent. I pictured the beach from my dream and take a deep breath to begin the spell,

"Earthly spirits I ask your charity, lend me your focus and your undying clarity. Lead me to the one I cannot find, restore that and my peace of mind. I pray for it to be found, bring me where my soul is bound"

I feel a gust of wind pass my hand and I open my eyes. The map was evenly covered by dirt except for a small patch of land up north on the coast of the Gulf of Mexico.

"Gotch ya" I laugh to myself.

Quickly, I find a secluded alleyway and open up a portal to that location. As soon as it opened I was immediately hit with the same sweet and fresh ocean air. I step through and close the portal immediately behind me. Looking around I find myself in the middle of the forest; I close my eyes and center myself once again, focusing on the sounds of the waves hitting the shore. The sound is not too far from me so I begin to walk toward it. As I make my advance to the beach I receive a call from an old friend and answer it.

"With whom am I speaking with today; Marc, Jake, or Steven?"

"Millie!" He says so cheerfully

"Steven! You handsome little cinnamon roll, how are you love?"

"Oh you know how it is, tired; feeling a little annoyed due to our cramped quarters. Jake and Marc have been fighting for days at this point and I haven't had a lick of sleep, but I digress. I was wondering if, you know.." He clears his throat, "wanted to pop by and cheer the three of us up."

Okay, I see you, Steven.

"Oh my word," I gasp, "Steven Grant are you booty calling me? I am not that kind of girl." I Tease.

A new deep and lower voice speaks up this time, "You are very much that kind of gal, mi conejito de choclate."

I roll my eyes, "Jake call me a damn chocolate bunny again and I swear I will beat your ass up and down the streets of London"

"He'll never admit to it, but I'm like 95% sure he'd be into that." From the softer more serious tone I can tell this is Marc, "How are you, Mills?"

"Hey, Marc." I smile to myself, "Oh I'm great, on a little personal mission in Yucatan; same old, same old."

"Yucatan? Personal? You finally find something about your past?"

"Nah had a weird dream, started hearing voices who were telling me to come to them. You know, just a normal day, in my not-so-normal life"

"Well, I can relate to the voices part; not sure if it's the smart move to follow them. You'll call us if you need us right?"

"Of course" I answer truthfully

He pauses, ".. So umm.."

"SOOoo Umm..." I mockingly say in return "I'll meet yall tomorrow, 8 pm your time. I take yall out for some drinks and dancing, you take me home and have your way with me? How does that sound?"

He chuckles, "It's a date"

I walk through the last of the forest and end up on the beach. "Alrighty toots, I gotta go. Kiss the boys for me."

I swear I hear him roll his eyes, "Be safe, see ya soon" he hangs up.

I take a long look around.

The same beach.

The Vibe:

Camille - Waves

I make my way to the mysterious entrance, eventually reaching it after a few minutes. I, once again, crouch down to my hands and knees and look at the underwater cave. I notice that same light coming from further in.

sighhhh, I guess I am Jacques Gusteau.

Standing up I call Peter and hold the phone with my shoulder and ear as I begin to undress to my 2 piece.

"Hey, Millie!" He practically shouts, "What up, everything okay?" I hear a bunch of noise in the background.

"I'm fine just updating you real quick; is this a bad time you sound like you're in the middle of something"

"No it's not a bad tim- HEY YOU PUT THAT CAR DOWN!" I hear a very loud crash in the background, "REALLY DUDE, I MEANT GENTLY. Okay, so I may be a little bit busy, give the TLDR."

"Still Hearing Voices, Found the entrance, I'm about to go in"

"Wait, right now? Alone!? You should wait til I'm done and send a portal to me, so I can help you." He pleads

"Peter no, I can handle it. Besides, looks like this will be a long swim and you are shit at holding your breath"

"I don't know Mills, I don't like this one bit. Everything about this seems sketchy"

"I'll be fine I promise. This shouldn't be long at all; I'll be home just in time to cook you some dinner."

"But Millie-"

"What's that Pete? crsssh crsssh You're breaking up I can't hear yo-" I abruptly hang up the phone.

He is going to kill me. Oops, oh well, hehe.

I fold my clothes, tie my sneakers together, and triple-bag my belongings in zip-lock bags. I put my protected items inside my sling bag and tightened it on myself. Suddenly I felt someone in my presence I quickly turn around in a defensive stance and scan the area. I see no one.

"If someone is out there, I suggest you come out now. I don't take kindly to being watched"

No response.

I repeat myself this time in this country's native language, Yucatec Maya, "Wa máax yaan te'elo' náachil, a sugiero u jóok'ol bejla'e'. Ma' teen kin machik yéetel amabilidad in vigilen."

Silence follows. Before I could inspect further I hear the voice again,

"Millaenyia, Daughter of Ororo, walker of clouds. Come to me." It was the same woman's voice, This time was different though. The energy in the air was so heavy I couldn't move.

I yell back "HEY! WHAT ARE YOU, WHO ARE YOU, AND WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?"

Daughter of Ororo, walker of clouds. Did she just tell me the name of my mother???

"Fuck this" I turn around and position myself accordingly and dive deep into the water. I float for a bit in the water so my body can adjust to the cold. Fortunately, I can hold my breath for days at a time, kinda like a whale; and the intense amount of water pressure doesn't affect me.

I only know this because Tony took me to the North Atlantic once to Swim with the Giant Squids; he was helping test my strengths to see how long I can endure certain conditions. We were out there for a week; one of the few things I enjoyed during the blip.

After getting acclimated to the water I head towards the glowing light. As I get closer to the light source I look up and notice an opening in the water. Swimming upwards I find myself in an air pocket of the cave. I look around and see that this part of the cave system is huge; the mysterious light I was following came from the 1000s of glow worms hanging from the top of the cave. I get out of the water to observe my surroundings further.

I give my long silver box braids a really good squeeze to get the excess water out and begin to walk around there's not much to see until I turn a corner and find some kind of shelter in the center of the cave. Advancing closer to the structure I make my way to the opening and slowly enter. The outside was tattered, rundown, and dingy. But the inside, the walls, in particular, were covered in vibrant paintings and stone carvings. There was colorful drapery everywhere and in the center of the room, there were 2 chairs and a table with a few items on it.

"Did- Did I just discover a Temple?" Moving closer to the paintings I recognize the art style. "16th Century Mayan."

No way this is authentic, the color would have faded by now.

I go to the table and see that there is a quill and an assortment of ink on it as well as a beaded bracelet.

"All mesoamerican artifacts, all 16th century, and in great condition." I reach for my bag to retrieve my phone. Just as I was about to take pictures I stopped myself.

"This feels wrong. If I report this place, its beauty will undoubtedly be destroyed" I whisper to myself.

While putting my phone away I take out my shirt and wrap my hands in it. This is so I can pick up the bracelet without damaging it from the oils in my hand.

It's so beaut-

"Beautiful isn't it?" It was a man with a mild accent; he had a calming but, assertive voice.

I was shaken to my core. Gently I put the bracelet down. Never, have I been so caught off guard like this.

NEVER.

Natasha is probably rolling in her grave.

Standing there was a man; he had short silky black hair and some facial hair as well as ears that are pointed. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of tight-fitted green shorts. His neck and various parts of his body were covered in royal jewelry and his golden brown skin was glistening as if he had just got out of the water. I look down and notice he has a set of wings on both of his ankles.

Honestly, not the weirdest thing I've seen.

Like the bad bitch I am, I refuse to let my possible adversary, know of my anxiety. So I turn around and play it cool.

"You should be proud, not many people can sneak up on me"

He chuckles, "No, You should be proud, not many people can make it here without drowning. I believe you're the 5th person to discover this cave but the 1st to make it to my temple"

"And what happened to the other 4?"

Smiling he says, "Fish Food"

"Hm. Funny." I say blankly

We pause for a long time, just staring at each other. He was sizing me up just as I was him. His gaze shifted from my eyes only once, stealing a glance at my chest. I forgot I was in a wet 2 piece with my long braids clinging to my neck and breasts, not to mention the giant lighting scar I have on my body. Suddenly I feel exposed.

I do a short whistle to pull back his focus.

"Eyes up here friend"

He swiftly met my gaze, it felt like he was trying to read me.

"So if the other 4 are fish food," I pause and take a step forward "Then how did I manage to get here without issue?"

"It's simple, I let you in"

"Why? Are you the one who sent the voices?"

He looked confused like he had no idea what I was talking about.

"I had a dream of me finding this place. I started hearing voices calling me to come here; It was a woman. I think she may know something about my mother, Ororo?"

"The walker of clouds? My people used to tell stories about her, The woman who could control the weather. My mother said that once she had a broken heart and wept for days; This caused a week-long thunderstorm." He looks me up and down a bit, "You look like what they described. Hair like our sands, and beautiful skin the color of cacao"

Interesting. Weather control isn't something that I've tried before, I'll be sure to test that later. Wait, Did he say beautiful?

"You still haven't told me why you let me in"

"Well I saw you from the water on the beach"

So I was being watched

"I wanted to see what you came here for, you walked here with determination on your face; like you knew something. I planned to observe and kill you, but my curiosity got the best of me." He moves forward and takes a seat at the table and gestures for me to join him, "So tell me, why did you decide not to photograph my temple?"

Accepting his offer I take the seat across from him. "I work at a museum and I take care of what's left of temples like yours. Morally my place of work is awful; most of the historic pieces we have, are stolen from war-torn or minority countries. I work there because at least I know I'm doing my best to understand and educate myself on that culture and properly take care of its history. History is meant to be nurtured and preserved; if I told anyone about this place it would be ruined." I look around again and smile, "this place is truly beautiful" looking back at him I ask, "So this is your temple; forgive me for asking but who are you?"

"My people call me K'uk'ulkan, but my enemies call me Namor."

"K'uk'ulkan? The feathered serpent god. Interesting... So where do I Iand, a friend or a foe?"

"I haven't decided yet. What do I call you?"

"Milleanyia but my friends call me Millie or Mills. You can call me Dr. Parker"

He laughs pretty loudly, "Okay Dr. Tell me, is your mother truly Ororo?"

Sighing I sit back in my seat," I haven't the slightest clue."

"You don't know your mother?"

"I don't know anything"

"Elaborate"

"9 years ago I was buried at the bottom of a lake, not dead just comatose I guess. I was found after a major lighting storm. Hence this lovely scar." I point at my large scar."

"Buried underwater & struck by lightning, yet you are still alive. Juntuul bruja? (a Witch)"

"Essentially yea."

"Hm, You are a very strange girl. How old are you?"

"Oof I hypothesis at least 350"

We sit in silence for a while, just staring at each other.

"How old are you?" I ask

"453"

Without skipping a beat I say, "You look Great by the way"

He smiles and shakes his head. I swear there is a tension here and it's fucking me up and I'm getting kinda anxious and antsy because of it.

Standing up I begin to speak "Well I'm gonna go. I've got places to be, and mouths to feed. I will tell no one of this place your secret is safe with me."

I suddenly feel 4 other people's energy outside the building.

I knew it wouldn't be easy, it never is.

"I take it, you'd like me to call you Namor then"

"Nothing Personal Ki'ichpan (beautiful girl), my priority is to protect my people at all costs. I don't have the luxury of trusting strangers, no matter how charming you are. For all I know, the Wakandans sent you to get more information on me."

Did I just get profiled?

Before I could respond I felt something coming for my back at full speed. I turn and quickly one hand catch it, it's a spear.

That's weird, this feels like vibranium.

I stare daggers at Namor before I take the spear and exit the building. Outside Were 4 people dressed in traditional tribal gear and headpieces. Their skin is blue and they all have strange face masks, with water inside. After looking a little more closely I notice they have gills, so I'm assuming those masks help them breathe on land.

I step forward a little more closely, drop the spear and raise my hands "Ma' talk in ba'ate'el ta wéetel. (I don't want to fight you)" They do nothing but laugh in my face and raise their spears.

Shit.

#Fanfic #Peter Parker #Spiderman #Black panther #Wakanda forever #Namor #Tenoch huerta #K’uk’ulkan #Original character #black girl oc #Namor x reader #Mcu shuri #Mcu namor #Mcu #Talokan trio #Talokan #Attuma attoye #Namora #Marc spector #Jake lockely #Steven grant #Wanda maximoff #Scarlet witch #Bucky #James buchanan barnes #Sebastian stan #Tom holland

[mistleaneous-chaos]

Beat Elden Ring for 3rd time and I have some thoughts on the FF Ending, so

Elden Ring Spoilers!

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Man the Frenzied Flame Ending is one that is just, interesting to me in so many ways and it really just has got a lot of things that make me like it so I’m just gonna list them off

the fact that throughout the game the idea of “Madness” being more than a status is teased, such as how in the description of the first spell you get, you see it clear as day say “Three Fingers”. But it’s so early in the Weeping Peninsula that you might just gloss over it, thinking “Oh, just another Name I should remember, cool” and disregard it, not knowing what it means

The foreshadowing of Kale’s words having a deeper meaning is there because of the way he talks and it’s really cool, because when he says the line about his people being unforgiving you just think “Oh, well I guess I shouldn’t attack them so I don’t lose a shop”, when it also comes from the fact that they literally cursed the Lands Between with Frenzy

Shabriri as a whole is really fucking interesting to me. And not just because he was the World’s Biggest Troll. But because of the idea that he became so synonymous with the Frenzied Flame that he ascended to a form that was less of a Deific one and more of just, Higher Being-esque similar to Bloodborne beings. And his physical introduction was literally horrifying to me, like I saw Yura fucking DIE, and I literally FORGOT. So when I saw him on the Mountain, my initial reaction was “Oh hey it’s Yura!” And then he starts to talk in a weird way and I immediately remember, “Oh, oh fuck Yura’s dead, who the fuck are YOU?” And the idea of this guy who was potentially also responsible for the Burying of the Nomads, becoming a higher being and stealing the bodies of those is fucking Horrifying to me and I think it’s because now in future DLC I’m worried they may do it with other characters, like imagine if Millicent showed up and it’s some other, weird Outer God person

Vyke is such an interesting parallel to Us. Because when you learn more and more about him, it becomes apparent what his story is. Because out of all the Tarnished in the Intro and even in general, Vyke HAD IT. He had the blessing of a Dragon, he had the Faith to back it up, and he made it all the fucking way to the Forge, but then he just. Stopped. Turned back around, and descended into the sewers and became a contender for the Lord of Frenzied Flame. So what I think is that Shabriri got to him too. Maybe he was separated from his Maiden at some point and Shabriri, in whatever form he took, told him the deal of what the purpose of Finger Maidens are: Guiding their Tarnished and Burning. And Vyke couldn’t handle it so he followed Shabriri’s instructions without question. But then he probably killed his Maiden by accident in his madness, which is why he trapped himself in a snow-covered Evergaol. And it’s interesting because like, it’s very similar to the process most players will go through if they do this ending. They’ll hear Shabriri and they won’t want to lose Melina, the one constant source of kinship in our journey. So they’ll go back to Leyndell, get burnt, and “save” Melina.

The way they portray the flame as a whole is one of the most unique ways I’ve seen in the series, but also reminiscent of Souls. Like Flame has always been Red or Orange or whatever, even in the games early Pyromancy Incantations. But the Frenzied Flame has Yellow as its primary color rather than Red, which really helps to reinforce how different it is to the other flames, yet also give a similarity to the Bright Yellow Erdtree, maybe foreshadowing the Outer God that the Elden Ring is the Vassal for. But at the same time, the way that it is portrayed Animation-wise is so similar to the First Flame. Like when you take control of the Flame in the forge, it is so similar to DS1’s Link The Flame Ending in the way you just let the flame consume you and lose all control is just so similar

In the Ending it literally looks like we are reveling in our success. Like the Tarnished never speaks, they always emote in body language, and even then that’s sparse. But the Tarnished literally seems like they are having the time of their life in that moment. Because in that one moment, they Win. As Lord of Frenzied Flame, they want everything to become One, and they are doing it. There is no other goal. There is no other motivation anymore. What was once a desire for Lordship from Grace has now become the Desire to turn everything back into One. And in that moment, what moment can one feel but Joy when everything that they desire is achieved. It’s strange because the Tarnished has essentially achieved, in a weird fucked up way, enlightenment as they have no more desires. I’m not saying that what they do is good, but the fact is that they get to Revel, with nobody to stop them

As a fan of the Omen Twins, the Forsaken Chapel has one of my absolute favorite examples of subtle storytelling in the whole game. When you get there, you find a boss named “Mohg, the Omen”. And if you played an average playthrough you may not have ever heard of this man and thought “Oh wow, a bigger Omen, kinda has similar timing to Margit but wow does he have a lot of spells”. And you beat him, get his incantation, get the +1 favor and sit down at Grace and think “Man, all that for a +1 talisman, huh.” And then? You hit behind the chest, and you see a physical contraption open a secret door, and you’re interested and go down to see “Sealed by Morgott the Grace-given”. And I love that detail. Because that means that both Mohg and Morgott found the Fingers and the Nomads and came to the conclusion of, “Ok. We may not agree on the matter of our blood, but this is something that should not be released into the world.” So they made 3 roadblocks: A Projection of Mohg to wave off random intruders, a contraption to prevent people from seeing the entrance, and a Magic Seal to prevent anyone from entering while Morgott lives. And it just goes to show how dangerous it is, because if even these 2 can agree it should be sealed then that should say something of the importance of the seal and the Moral implications of what’s down there

Ok. Onto the Nomads themselves. In the past, I’ve seen Hollows in all of the Souls Games, and I just think “Oh, just kill em and move on.” So when I first got here I didn’t think much of there being Hollows here. But then I realized that these things weren’t Hollows when I saw one playing an instrument. And then I read the merchants armor description. And I realized that there were entire generations of people born down there, suffering from dehydration, starvation, sickness, and were still alive. So these people eventually became so fucked up that they naturally looked like Hollows which is insane to me. And it really just shows how fucked up the Golden Order is.(Also I think Shabriri did it because he was arrested for the crime of Slander)

#elden ring #elden ring spoilers #elden ring lore #morgott #morgott the omen king #mohg lord of blood #luminary mohg #lord of frenzied flame #frenzied flame #shabriri #vyke #festering fingerprint vyke #yura #FromSoft #dark souls #soulsborne #merchant kale #nomadic merchant #melina #margit #margit the fell omen #mohg the omen #mohg the blood lord

[beevean]

How to create an invincible character:

1) Jack up the level of melanin in their skin

That's it. You're done, now feel free to do whatever you want with that character, so long as nothing bad happens to them they are officially perfect

*sigh*

It's true that N!Annette had a tough uphill battle before the show began, and I can guess the same happened to N!Isaac once they revealed him. It's true and undeniable that there was backlash against her simply because of the raceswap alone, because they really wanted the show to keep her "original" DXC design (which isn't even original, which makes these people look more hypocritical). I can understand why fans would then grow defensive of Annette, why they'd think it makes sense for her to be an ex-slave in the context of Nocturne, why that would be more interesting than her original character. I get it. I am absolutely not saying "black bad", although I sure would prefer original characters of color, like Morana or Mizrak, and not hands down. And I can understand that a black character in that setting would have a history of slavery: it makes much more sense than with Isaac, who really should have come from the Iberian peninsula because the Transatlantic Slave Trade wasn't a thing yet in the 1460s when he was a child. In fact, back then, there were European slaves in the Arab world. It would have been more historically accurate for Isaac to own a Romanian slave than the other way around! But for Annette? No, that's fair.

My problem is that she's exactly the stereotype that makes most people so resistant against this practice, the reason it's considered "woke" and dishonest. She's just the badass woman of color who is super badass in battle, who talks down to the stupid privileged white people because she has Trauma and her Slave Trauma is more Traumatic than White Trauma, and she gets away with it because yeah she Suffered More. We get it. And to be blunt, I don't care. It's as subtle as a sledgehammer, and I don't watch or play Castlevania to hear for the umpteenth time that SLAVERY BAD (from a show that equated colonialists with vampires without a shred of thought, to boot).

In the tag, I found someone who pointed out that damsels in distress are never allowed to be black. Black women aren't worth saving: they have to be strong and cool, but only white women are worth compassion. And I'm not American so take what I say with a grain of salt, but I remember reading that black women gets masculinized IRL. So that was a wasted opportunity.

Black Annette is neutral. Slave Annette could have worked. But personally I resent how women in NFCV are only allowed to be stronk and mean, almost passing the message that there is something wrong with you if you're weak and need help, and how any sort of criticism is brushed off with "you're just a racist and sexist kys lol".

You want an actual badass woman of color that doesn't feel like she was put there for cookie points? Casca. Y'all want to recreate Casca so bad it's ridiculous. Casca is strong yet she has weaknesses, she's a valuable warrior yet she has to learn how to stop seeing herself as a weapon, she is traumatized from her repeated experiences with attempted rape, sometimes she's saved by others and sometimes she saves herself (one time when she was insane even!), she butts heads with Guts at first yet respects him when he breaks down in front of her. Learn from Berserk, instead of just wanting to recreate the aesthetic. For fuck's sake.

#anti netflixvania #i will piss off people with this #i really do not care about this discourse #i know i will be just called a racist and blocked #whatever

[phireads]

My Books of 2023 Ranking 📖

This is a little late (it's the 12th of January when I'm writing this) but I read 18 books this year and I really wanted to just summarise my thoughts on them.

Obvious disclaimer: these are just my opinions and I would love to have a conversation about any of these books, whether you agree with me or not (the beauty of literature is that it's subjective) so please ask me any questions you might have.

Okay, let's get into it!

Re-reads:

The Smell of Other People’s Houses by Bonnie-Sue Hitchcock

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Simply incredible. This was my fourth time reading this book. It does have a great deal of nostalgic merit for me so that surely makes me biassed and therefore I can’t say it’s definitively the best book ever (however much I might want to). It’s not some sort of philosophical masterpiece, nor does it present any new views on society or culture. But it does exactly what it sets out to do. It is a book written for teenagers and young people which teaches them, through vibrant characters and rich prose, that they are deserving of love and that a true sense of belonging can always be found if sought. I will be rereading this spring. 

First Reads:

16. Great Expectations by Charles Dickens

⭐️⭐️

Ugh. This was such a slog. I had only ever read one Dickens work before this - A Christmas Carol, as required by my English GCSE (standard examinations in England, taken at age 15/16) - and I really enjoyed it. Yes, ACC was a novella and therefore, much shorter than Great Expectations and, I believe, most of Dickens’ other novels but I think it also has a spirit to it which just isn’t present in this book. I’m not referring to the “Christmas spirit” or indeed any of the four supernatural spirits which visit Ebenezer Scrooge throughout the stanzas, but rather the sense of movement that tells the reader that a story is progressing and wills them to read on. Great Expectations, to me, felt uninspired and dull. I liked (as in enjoyed reading about them, not solely agreed with them morally) only two characters, Biddy and Joe. The rest of the characters simply didn’t interest me, as they were too trivialised (which seems to be a major component of Dickens’ writing and all I can say is: Bertolt Brecht does it better). I recognise and appreciate what Dickens was trying to do with Miss Havisham having created a monster out of Estella but the way it was conveyed, especially given Pip was telling the story, simply lessened the impact. I didn’t like the convoluted prose, nor did I find the plot particularly engaging. I will be trying another Dickens novel (I own a copy of A Tale of Two Cities but if anyone has a better recommendation, please let me know) but needless to say, my expectations won’t be all that Great. 

15. The Tomb in Seville: Crossing Spain on the Brink of Civil War by Norman Lewis 

⭐️⭐️⭐️

This was a travel piece which focuses on Lewis’ journey, with his brother-in-law, across Spain on an errand for his father-in-law, Eugene Corvaja to locate the Corvaja family’s ancestral tomb in (you guessed it) Sevilla. There were several elements of this book which I did enjoy, particularly Lewis’ way of imparting obscure facts (I had no clue there had been witch trials on the Iberian peninsula). Sadly, a lot of the anecdotal stories felt quite distant and unemotional. Perhaps, because I mostly read fiction, I was wrong to expect such sentiment from a travel piece but I do think there should have been more urgency felt when recounting being in the crossfire of a battle. I do want to acknowledge this book’s value as it demonstrates the rest of the world’s view of the guerra civil. 

14. North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell

⭐️⭐️⭐️

This one was honestly quite a disappointment for me. I know that seems ridiculous to say, given how I’ve rated it three stars, but I was just so excited to read this. I’d heard that Gaskell was an adept writer who did not shy away from political commentary. That much is true. I was extremely impressed by Margaret and Mr Thornton’s political sparring, as most Regency and Victorian era works that I’ve encountered disguise their political and social messaging so as to not create too much controversy. Gaskell, on the other hand, makes no attempt to veil the more sensitive issues of her time. What did disappoint me was her characterisation, or lack thereof. I did not find myself drawn to Margaret Hale, John Thornton, or any of their comrades and rivals. I’m very much a character-driven reader. To properly enjoy a fiction book, its characters must be at least one of three things:

Relatable - a character acts or thinks like me and therefore, I feel a bond with them and am invested in their fate (see: C. Brontë’s Jane Eyre or Austen’s Elinor Dashwood)

Recognisable - a character acts or thinks like someone I have encountered and therefore, feels realistic to me (see: Alcott’s Amy March or Stoker’s Lucy Westenra)

Compelling - a character acts or thinks in a manner with which I am not at all familiar and may find morally reprehensible  but does so in a way which engages me and encourages me to read on (see: E. Brontë’s Hindley Earnshaw or Golding’s Jack Merridew)

That seems arbitrary to state but regardless, I must be engaged with the characters for a plot or the writing to be worth reading and unfortunately I was not engaged with the characters of North and South. I will still be picking up Gaskell’s other work though and I can see why she is an exalted author and want to give her another chance. 

13. You’ll be the Death of Me by Karen M. McManus

⭐️⭐️⭐️

This is not the kind of book I usually talk about on here, probably because I rarely read any young adult literature anymore (not for any snobbish reason, my tastes have just changed) and have never been a great fan of mysteries. However, I have an odd devotion to Karen M. McManus books, having fond memories of going to the supermarket after school to pick up her latest novel and trying not to bump into a tree as I read it on the walk home. So of course, I had to read this. It’s simply okay. The crime was basic and its perpetrator was unconvincing but it was an easy and fun read and I like to rate books based on my personal experience, rather than the general academic consensus. Would recommend The Cousins over this but still a good time. 

12. The Return by Victoria Hislop

⭐️⭐️⭐️

I had read one Victoria Hislop book before The Return - Those who are Loved, published eleven years after this - and I’m very happy to say that Hislop is not a one hit wonder whose inspiration dims over time. I can see in The Return the ideas that would become her later novels. So naturally, this book was not as emotive or as fleshed out as I would have liked but it’s really nice to see a popular author who is very clearly dedicated to their craft and has improved. I really need to read The Island. Also brownie points for the Lorca mentions! 

11. Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen

⭐️⭐️⭐️

I’m actually sort of nervous to post this on here - particularly because I have beloved mutuals who would sail a thousand ships for this book. I’d heard about all the satire and social commentary in Northanger Abbey so I decided to approach it with a more academic viewpoint (especially since I love gothic literature - yes, even the silly and melodramatic stuff which Jane Austen criticises - so I didn’t want to get personally offended). I really respect what Austen set out to do and this is certainly the most transparent social commentary I’ve read from her. I just didn’t connect with the characters. I understand that Catherine is meant to be almost a parody of herself but she didn’t feel as real to me as Austen’s other heroines. Nor did, I truly regret to say, Henry feel like a leading man. I wasn’t very invested in their relationship and felt that their obstacles were resolved too quickly. HOWEVER, biggest compliments to the author for creating John Thorpe, one of the most timeless and insufferable antagonists of all time. I adored the fact that he’s not comically evil, he’s just awful. Where Catherine hopes she might be a heroine, John Thorpe believes down to his breeches that he is a hero. I also thought it was so well done how he tried so hard to get Catherine to fall for him and ended up directly facilitating her relationship with Henry. All in all, I will definitely be rereading because I’m sure I’ve missed some nuance. Unfortunately, Ms Austen has set my expectations so high, I can’t help but feel a little disappointed. 

10. Ariadne by Jennifer Saint 

⭐️⭐️⭐️

This wasn’t really anything new but Jennifer Saint writes beautifully so I would like to read Elektra and Atalanta.

To me, this novel felt like a story of sisterhood so I’m surprised it wasn’t called Ariadne and Phaedra. Due to it just being called Ariadne, I would always have had a sense of Phaedra’s tragic fate, even had I not known her mythology beforehand. I will say, I read this in Crete after having visited the real Knossos so that definitely helped my enjoyment of the book. I would absolutely recommend this to people wanting to get into mythological retellings but be warned - the feminism is really basic and bland. 

9. Tortilla Flat by John Steinbeck 

⭐️⭐️⭐️

All men these days know how to do is get arrested, fall asleep, drink wine and steal vacuum cleaners. This is, again, a brilliant instance of a writer developing over years of honing their skills. In Tortilla Flat, we see Steinbeck’s trademark landscape of the hot California deserts combined with the first inklings of his masterful character work. Danny and his friends are instant favourites of mine - especially the Pirate and Jesús María Corcoran. The plot is pretty weak, especially for Steinbeck, but as I said, this is one of his earlier works. Still a very engaging and atmospheric read and made me wish for five friends to share a gallon (or two) of wine with. 

8. The Wedding by Dorothy West 

⭐️⭐️⭐️

I would 100% recommend this book to anybody who enjoys media concerning high society and decadence. The Wedding marries themes of familial and racial politics with an idyllic island setting. I found the conversations between Gram, Liz and Shelby to be extremely compelling. I wasn’t as interested in the parallel plotline of Lute and his daughters though so the ending fell a bit flat for me. I also wish that we had seen Shelby’s fiance, Meade. I think West intended for Meade to be a symbol of Shelby’s choice between her family/ race and her love and therefore did not need to be developed into a full character but I just felt that if we had got to know Meade, we would have better understood Shelby’s decisions. Also, this is the second book I’ve read recently where a man dies directly after intercourse - is this a common plot point in books???

7. Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Here we are. The behemoth. It’s not actually extremely long but oh boy, is it jam-packed? I really didn’t know how to rate this because it’s just so different from anything I’ve ever read before. I suppose I should get the negatives out of the way first by saying that I did not enjoy the structuring. I wish we didn’t know that the majority of the characters of the first half of the novel are already dead when Nelly recounts the story to Mr Lockwood. I understand that Brontë might have intended to show how all the first generation were doomed from the beginning and I think telling us of Catherine’s death was ingenious but I wish I’d found out about Isabella’s death in the main narrative. Otherwise, what a masterpiece! The pacing was a little slow for the first 100 or so pages but I honestly enjoyed that because it allowed me to really immerse myself in Brontë’s eerie moors. As someone who spent a lot of time in Yorkshire as a child, I found the descriptions to be absolutely transporting. I thought the first half of the book was brilliant but the second half - concerning Catherine, Heathcliff and Hindley’s children - is what makes this book a deserving classic. I have a lot more to say but I promised myself I’d keep these reviews short and digestible so I’ll move on. 

6. Anxious People by Fredrik Backman

⭐️⭐️⭐️

This was my fourth Fredrik Backman book (following A Man Called Ove, Beartown and Us Against You). I think if it hadn’t been a Backman novel, I would have loved it even more but you know how it is, I have high expectations. The writing was, as ever, extremely charming and engaging (shoutout to the most consistently brilliant translator I’ve ever read, Neil Smith) and the characters were so realistic and loveable. I just felt the plot dragged. Probably because the majority of the novel takes place in one apartment building and the same story is told from multiple perspectives. I felt a lot of joy whilst reading this but it’s definitely my least favourite Fredrik Backman book. Oh well, onto The Winners (which I know is going to make me cry)!

5. Before the Coffee Gets Cold: Tales from the Café by Toshikazu Kawaguchi

⭐️⭐️⭐️

This book was so beautiful. I feel I should start by noting that this book was bought for me by my beloved best friend and neither of us realised it was a sequel until I was halfway through reading it so naturally there were elements of the plot and characters that I did not fully understand but I have tried to not let that affect my judgement. The premise of the book is such an interesting one and, as a complete newbie to Japanese literature and a relative novice when it comes to understanding Japanese culture, I didn’t feel too overwhelmed by the different details. My favourite story was that of Yukio, Kyoko and their mother, Kinuyo. Since we’d already met Kyoko in Gohtaro’s story (and likely in the first book - take what I say with a pinch of salt), I had a fondness for the family by the time Yukio came to the café. I cried on the train because that was the best way that story could have concluded, in my opinion. The other stories were very powerful but it was Yukio’s that shone the brightest. I also LOVED the character of Kazu. I will definitely be reading the first (oops), third and fourth books in this series. 

4. The Children of Jocasta by Natalie Haynes

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

My second Greek mythological retelling of the year, The Children of Jocasta was actually quite a shock for me. I’m a huge fan of Sophocles’ Antigone (though I’ve never seen or read Oedipus at Colonus or Oedipus Rex) so I’m very picky when it comes to reimaginings. I found the semi-modernisation aspect to be pretty cringeworthy (not everyone needs a nickname) but I found Haynes’ writing to be so addictive that I could move past those aspects. I was so intrigued by the dynamics between Oedipus and Jocasta and the plague element gave the story a lot more historical grounding (given the Athenian plagues of that era). Such an enjoyable and compelling read. I don’t know if it’s necessarily a good introductory read for those unfamiliar with mythology. If you’re looking for a truly modern Antigone retelling, absolutely give Home Fire by Kamila Shamsie a go. 

3. Tess of the D’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This was the surprise of the year for me to be honest. A book written in the late nineteenth century by a man about a young maiden and her downfall? Sounds like the most maddening experience. But it wasn’t. Hardy’s portrayal of Tess, and of the women and girls she represents, was incredibly sympathetic. His writing was also remarkably atmospheric - especially during the final scenes at Stonehenge. Even the conversations with Tess and her friends felt like real teenage exchanges. Take notes, Stephen King and F. Scott Fitzgerald - men can write women convincingly and respectfully. Angel Clare also felt like someone I’ve met a million times over, someone who isn’t the epitome of evil but perpetuates so many injustices. Honestly a spectacular read. I’m so excited to pick up Far from the Madding Crowd.

2. Passing by Nella Larsen

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

It feels almost strange putting Passing in second place, considering the profound effect it had on me. This book is completely incredible. Larsen’s prose is atmospheric and oddly breezy. It makes the plot feel deceptively light until we, as the reader, understand the stakes. From the second page, on which Clare is referred to as a “pale small girl” (the subversive ordering of adjectives bypassing English grammatical rules and thereby putting the utmost importance on the hue of Clare’s skin), the author puts so much consideration into her choice of wording which really makes this work stand out to me.Clare and Irene are truly two sides of the same coin (forgive the cliché). Their equal opportunities are made all the more clear by the wholly opposite way the two women deal with them. Clare chooses to hide from the truth (that her husband is a racist, that her marriage is founded on lies) whilst Irene cannot bear to live in ignorance when she recognises the connection between her own husband, Brian, and Clare. The two women are shining examples of what literary characters should be. They are complex and flawed and both seem to envy each other. Clare covets Irene’s life and Irene resents Clare for having the power to take that from her. Whilst reading, I considered many possible ways that the story might end but never that. Incredible. I just wish the penultimate scene had been a tad longer but that’s my own critique (barely even that, just personal preference). Also the film is spectacular and a rare faithful adaptation of its source material. 

1. Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️Finally! We’re here! Ugh I love love love this book. Is it as socially or academically impactful as Passing? No, not at all. But it’s just a brilliant book. Anne is fiercely intelligent and kind and just an all-round wonderfully written protagonist. I loved Marilla, Matthew, Gilbert and Diana too. The scenes with all Anne’s classmates are just a perfect reflection of being a tween/ teen girl and feeling the joy of being surrounded by friends and being totally carefree. I feel like I knew Anne and all of her friends - I laughed with them and cried with them and watched them grow up and it was truly a magical experience. I want to visit St Edward’s Island because Montgomery paints it in such an enchanting way. I’m so invested in Anne and Gilbert’s relationship, it’s embarrassing. This book also found me at the perfect time - right as I was starting a distance degree. So I felt comfort in studying alone whilst also pursuing a career knowing Anne was too (I recognise that’s a little silly but oh well, it works for me). I wish I could start Anne of Avonlea right away but I know that I want to buy physical copies because I can tell I’m going to read these books again and again. Pure comfort. Pure timelessness.

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Alright, that's everything! Onto a wonderful new year of reading in 2024 <3

#mine #books #classic lit #ranking #books 2023 #thomas hardy #jane austen #emily brontë #bonnie sue hitchcock #nella larsen #lucy maud montgomery #natalie haynes #jennifer saint #charles dickens #victoria hislop #karen m mcmanus #minegishi toshiki #fredrik backman #dorothy west #john steinbeck #elizabeth gaskell #norman lewis #queue almost unearthly thing

[kendrixtermina]

I have officially lost all belief in human progress or that western civilization is anything other than a fraud

all these people are basically livetweeting their deaths and no one DOES anything

So much for the UN, the long arc of history or 'never again'.

videos of ppl outright mocking the victims like "we have water and you don't"

so much propaganda it puts the WWI meat factory thing to shame, no wonder no one knows what to believe

the constant shaming and actionism and guilt-tripping as if panicking helps anyone

How many babies to need to be killed till it's no longer "self defense"?

RIOTS ARE ALWAYS A FAILURE OF THE AUTHORITIES. It doesn't matter if anyone 'condones' killing (I don't), but, you mistreat people, some of them WILL riot. I'm not saying it's great, or they should, but they WILL. Human fucking nature. Israel had all the power there; They created conditions where ppl will riot.

Who is dumb enough to believe there's always conveniently a base under everything they bomb? Even if there was, I assume Hamas have legs & can walk away, whereas the civilian infrastructure STAYS destroyed.

And even if you get all the baddies, what then? In 5 seconds you'd have a new, worse group out for vengeance for their slaughtered family members, burning with the same "rightheous" fury as you

We can debate about labels all you want, but there's no way cutting off water to a large city isn't an attemt to kill-em-all. Same for bombing the place they were told to go

On the other hand... Ppl's tendency to shove everything into the currently popular framework... the colonization thing certainly applies in many respects and it was in some ways smart of the activists to frame it that way, but, you can send the British back to Britain, where are you gonna send the israelis? You realize you're not getting them moved anywhere without yet more atrocities? So big side eye when ppl go putting 'Israel' in quotation marks, I do wonder what course of action they're implying. I can't in good conscience tell ppl not to be triggered or scared over it.

I get that it's not just to expect anyone to 'be the bigger person'. But someone has to. They pulled it off in Rwanda. Do you want "justice" or peace? You can't have both. How about no more killing of anyone.

Biden was kinda coming near to saving himself with the union stuff he's been doing, but now he's shat the bed bigtime which is a problem cause there's no viable replacement. If only a competent person with a spine were in his place. I mean, China & Russia doing shit? Ok, they're nuclear powers, no one can stop them. But Israel? If the west threatened to close the money faucet they'd play ball. They're all just too gullible, too chicken, or perfectly happy with the outcome. Biden blew it; I think out of incompetence more than malice, but they're functionally indistinguishable at this point.

Europe doesn't believe in free speech apparently. Ashamed to live in Mitläufer-Land and the spineless peninsula union, apparently.

The spikes of islamophobia and antisemitism all over the world

ppl trying to use this to push antisemitic conspiracy theories or hindu-nationalism, (wasn't collective punishment and category brainrot exactly the problem? I guess some are just looking for any excse to terrorize ppl)

ppl too busy for-us-or-against-us-ing celebrities and making yet another orthodoxy discourse out of it, like that won't do the opposite of convince ppl

Did I mention DEAD BABIES GALORE?? That oughta dwarf everything else, really. It's bad enough on its fucking own. There shouldn't be anything left to say. They all look like my siblings to me. But those are all alive in a warm house with food in the fridge and I' gonna see them tomorrow.... and their families won't.

entire bloodlines wiped out. Not even people left to remember them

I lived in a small village with 10 thousand inhabitants once. When I see the death toll, I picture that entire village wiped out, or multiples or fractions of it. Everyone one would interact with every day, the teachers, the neighbor's kids, the croissant lady. 'cept ppl in Gaza were so piss poor they probably ain't seen a croissant in their lives.

So this is what it's like, to see something like that happening

there are all those posts of one person after another being wiped out, families whittled down till there's nothing left

Yes, you could drag Netanyahu to the hague, and they should, but will that even matter? That won't un-kill those ppl or un-destroy the infrastructure.

Something irreversible has been done.

Something irreversible is done each time one of those lives is casually snuffed out

#feelings #current events #politics #gaza

[nimium-amatrix-ingenii-sui]

Destroying the Gift

She was quiet for a long time. "I'm going to take it up to the sacred mountain and throw it into Hephestia's fire." "You'll destroy it?" I was shocked. "Yes. I'll take witnesses from here and from Sounis and Attolia as well, and when it is gone, Eddis's throne will descend in the same way as the thrones of other countries."

Celebrating the beginning of Spring Break by producing some new fanart at long last, yay! I guess it was only a matter of time before I'd turn towards The Queen's Thief...

So I've only been looking into the fandom for a hot month or so, so this isn't saying much, but having spent my last decades in the Tolkien fandom, I don't seem to see enough love for Helen "Let's throw this mystic heirloom that confers unquestioned authority into a volcano" Eddis. Isildur wants what she's having. Thanks for the throne but we'll take it from here. Immortality? Thanks but no thanks. Truly we stan a queen.

(Seriously though, I'm not imagining the parallels and their limits, am I?) And because, as they say, you should be the change that you want to see in the world... my first piece of Queen's Thief fanart celebrates Eddis destroying Hamiathes's Gift, with some gratuitious guards and witnesses. Wearing some form of stylish light travelling uniform, I guess? (Do they even have linothorax in Eddis? Since they produce the finest linen on the Little Peninsula they may as well have linothorax. I mean, wouldn't you? Also I realise belatedly that Helen may not actually be supposed to have the warrior tattoos. Does she? Is it ever mentioned? I am suddenly full of doubts.)

_ _ _

As a side note, my new scanner eats colours even worse than my old scanner ever did and I didn't quite manage to restore them to their correct saturation, but this is the closest I managed to get. On my screen, anyway. :/ You gotta know when to call it a day...

#fanart #the queen's thief #my stuff #queen's thief spoilers #eddis helen #hamiathes's gift #you would not BELIEVE how long it took me to find a decent ref shot of a volcano crater with actual lava but no violent eruption in dayligh #and i don't even know why i bothered because i still can't follow reference to save my life :( #anyway

[redlibra14-2]

My theory on the upcoming paradox DLC legendaries for Scarlet and Violet

So, if you’re reading this, that means you may or may not have seen what 2 of the 3 upcoming paradox pokemon look like. They both look like the fusions of both of their respective trios. A trio from Johto and a trio from Unova. But who could possibly be this 3rd pokemon that we haven’t seen yet? 

On the surface, it’s easy to say that it is the 3rd legendary representing present time, since Koraidon and Miraidon represent the past and future respectively. A lot might say that it’s Cyclizar but that has already been debunked by the developers saying that it isn’t a pre-evolution to either. Plus, it’s WAY too common to be a legendary considering we see them running around in the wild and we also see NPCs use them to get to places. But it could be another pokemon resembling Cyclizar but doesn’t evolve from it (or maybe it will, who knows?). I mean it’s not the first time that a legendary is related to a common pokemon, look at Diancie and Carbink. Despite their similarities, Carbink doesn’t evolve into Diancie. How Diancie got the way she is is because of a Carbink undergoing a mutation according to the lore. Maybe the same will happen with Cyclizar. 

But I propose an alternate possibility. Remember how I briefly touched upon how one of the paradox pokemon looks like a fusion of a trio from Unova? Well, what if I told you that they aren’t the only possible trio to fuse? 

Does anyone remember the Great Dragon from Gen 5? Because if you don’t, then allow me to refresh your memory. The Great Dragon is said to be what the Tao Trio (Reshiram, Zekrom, and Kyurem) used to be. They only split apart because of the beliefs of the two princes of Unova believed their country SHOULD be: Truth or Ideals. Reshiram and Zekrom fought while the empty husk that remained became Kyurem. 

So basically, what I’m trying to get at is that The Great Dragon is a paradox pokemon. And I have some evidence to back this up. 

Evidence: 

-We never got an actual name for this pokemon, what this pokemon’s real name is. 

-’The Great Dragon’ sounds like a name for a paradox pokemon. All of the paradox pokemon have names, with the exception of Koraidon and Miraidon, that are just pronouns in front of nouns. (For example, GREAT Tusk, SCREAM Tail, IRON Treads, etc.) 

-And to top it all off, we have never seen what this pokemon looks like. The closest we’ve ever got were Kyurem’s two forms: Black Kyurem and White Kyurem. So the name would probably be Gray Kyurem, but that can just be applied to how Kyurem looks normally.

-To add onto the previous point, it is possible for a paradox pokemon to be a fusion of 2 or more pokemon. Look at Iron Valiant, who I jokingly referred to as what a possible hermaphroditical fusion for the Ralts line would look like in my previous post. 

-Plus the Great Dragon would probably represent balance, as the Yin and Yang symbol (which is what the Tao Trio are partially based on), not just in black and white, but I guess in time itself as well.

But if any of this turns out to be true, as cool as it would seem, it probably wouldn’t make much sense lorewise. Such as if the Great Dragon is this 3rd edition, then that would imply that Koraidon and Miraidon have ties to Unova, which they don’t based on both names and design. And I’m pretty sure New York and the Iberian peninsula have little to nothing to do with each other, aside from immigrants moving there and there’s bits of spanish culture in there too. Also, if the paradox fusion the resembles the swords of justice is indeed a fusion, then why did the games never say that the swords used to be a single entity? Come to think of it, the same principle can apply to the paradox fusion resembling the legendary beasts. 

The legendary beasts were already said to have been created by Ho-Oh, when it resurrected 3 dead pokemon in a fire in the brass tower. Origins Generations already debunked the theory that it’s the first 3 eeveelutions. Maybe that story was just a cover up for what really happened and maybe it’s got something to do with this paradox pokemon. Just like with the Great Dragon’s name and design, these pokemon’s identities were never confirmed either. 

To answer this is that maybe pokemon will retcon some things. I mean, it’s not the first time this has happened, look at pokemon types in general. There were 15 originally in the games, 16 if you count ‘???’. But after gens 2 and 6, there’s 18 and we never got an in-universe explanation as to where Steel, Dark, and Fairy come from. We are just led to believe that they simply, exist. And other example is that Pokemon used to have references to countries, cities, and other areas in the real world. Indian elephants are mentioned in some dex enteries, there was a dog, no not a dog pokemon, an actual pup in one of the posters, and then theres the Tunguska/Tiksi branches of Silph Co in FireRed and LeafGreen being references to Russia, among other examples. Heck, some of this was the backbone for the “Ash is in a coma” theory. 

Heck, Kyurem’s origin was retconned as well. Originally believed to have come from an icy comet, but then it was changed to it have been the empty remains of what used to be the Great Dragon. But the whole story about an icy comet could be referring to how the dragon split and not how Kyurem got there by itself.

But there is one thing that I know that possibly might tie the Tao Trio to the Paradox duo and it’s the fact that dinosaurs and reptiles are part of their inspiration. Though for Miraidon, it’s only in name because of the suffix being Greek for tooth. Also, contrary to popular belief but lizards did NOT evolve from dinosaurs, they just happened to have the same common ancestor. Pretty much the same as how we didn’t evolve from chimps, we just share the same ancestor. Also, both Koraidon and Reshiram look feathery, whereas Zekrom and Miraidon aren’t.

And like I said, despite how it may seem contradictory, retcons happen just to try and make it make sense. And yeah, in terms of stories, it’s difficult to fit something new into what’s already been established without it having to break the rules. But that’s just how it is with storytelling. Plus, Pokemon is confirmed to be a multiverse, so everything both does and doesn’t make sense. And plus, it wouldn’t be the first time Unova predicted something. Look at how Iron Thorns looks like the Mecha Tyranitar from Pokestar Studios in BW2.

So, what do you think? Was there something I missed? If so, put it in the comments and I hope you enjoyed. 

Edit: I mistakeningly put Origins instead of Generations. Generations showed us what happened in the brass tower, not Origins. Origins is based on Red, Blue, Green, Yellow, FireRed, LeafGreen, and some bits of the Let’s Go games are in there. And by “bits”, I mean mega evolution. Sorry about that. 

#pokemon #pokemon theory #gen 5 #gen 9 #pokemon scarlet #pokemon violet #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon black #pokemon white #pokemon black 2 #pokemon white 2 #pokemon black and white #pokemon black 2 and white 2 #reshiram #zekrom #koraidon #miraidon #kyurem #paradox pokemon #upcoming paradox pokemon #suicune #raikou #entei #legendary beasts #swords of justice #cobalion #verizion #terrakion #cyclizar #diancie

[iturbide]

Yeah... Fire Emblem as a whole has an issue with imperialism. Like, no joke, in the first games, Marth just ‘accidentally’ ends up the ruler of the whole continent at the end of it. No, really, just... apparently the excuse is that No One Else Is Left between the events of the first and third game with a strong royal claim to the kingdoms??? So, we all just bend the knee to Hero King Marth. The second game, as mentioned, does this with Hero King Alm uniting the lands because, again, the events of the story killed everyone else with a claim (oh, and Celica is there I guess). Genealogy is iffy because it frames Arvis’s True Mistake to be betraying Sigurd and trusting Manfroy and not, you know, taking over the continent under the Granvale Empire; Seliph even becomes Granvale’s new king and... a few kingdoms (that happen to be claimed by Seliph’s allies) break off (if said allies survive to the end), but otherwise we just replaced the Evil Emperor with Hero King Seliph (you are seeing the pattern, yes?). Thracia 776 is the different and the same. Lief leads the peninsula of Thracia against Granvale (then under Manfroy’s control), by uniting the two kingdoms of Thracia under his banner and they become one kingdom under Hero King Lief (which Seliph of course allows and support because he’s friends and allies with Lief). We literally only stop this trend at FE 6, which makes no mention of Roy taking over the continent after defeating evil king. The same goes for FE 7 to FE 10. I want to include FE 13 as not imperialist, but... the way Chrom’s Father trying to kill all of the Plegians just serves as “Why Plegians are evil, because they want revenge for the *attempt at genocide*” is very... like, the only ‘good’ Plegians are the ones that join Chrom or have Reese reservations about the war, but apparently any Plegian that holds ill will towards Ylisse and it’s royal family are all ‘bad.’ Chrom does not take over the continent (this is good), but man Awakening sure does say that military interventions into brown people is Okay and if they are angry about it they should let it go (this is bad). So, I guess FE 13 is half imperialist and half not imperialist? We dedicated too much time to this, on to FE 14 where... god damn it, I get it is trying to pull a ‘we should just get along’ message, but why is the Beautiful Land Always Bathed In Light the Japanese one and the Dark And Dreary Hellhole Alway Bathed In Darkness the not-Japanese one??? This is weird. Not imperialist (I think), but it’s iffy. Then we have FE 16. 3 Houses. 3 Houses is kind of neat because this is the first time I have seen folks seriously debate this whole imperialism issue, but also that’s because it also fumbles. 3 Houses is the first game where all of the actors are playable characters so naturally everyone got attached to everyone in the cast, so everyone was suddenly Very Aware that they were doing an imperialism at the end of every route.

I think it is kind of to 3 Houses credit that some folks are debating these concepts, but also to its detriment because 90% of this debate is over the fact 3 Houses tried to subvert previous tropes (hey, the brown skinned guy is actually the most moral person here!) while playing others straight (we must all be united by the Heroic King/Duke/Emperor that wins the war).

anon you're preaching to the choir here -- if you've spent much time on my blog, you've seen me come down on Awakening and in particular A) Chrom's father and his genocide, B) the story spending all of two lines on it summing up with "but Ylisse was really hurt by it too," C) the only good Plegians are the ones that join Chrom, and D) all the good Plegians having pale skin while the bad guys (Aversa and Validar in particular) have dark skin tones. My AO3 is more or less 500,000 words dealing with that.

Basically no one hates Fire Emblem more than Fire Emblem fans.

(Claude in Three Houses is still one of the best things that's ever happened to the franchise though and I will stand by that.)

#answered #anonymous #fire emblem #i'm not qualified to speak on any of the older games #so i'm just not even going to do it #and i don't feel like digging for links right now #if you want me to send receipts i will dig but #again: i really just want to write at the moment