#(i never claimed to be an honorable artist)

[ckret2]

Chapter 90 of human Bill Cipher and the Mystery Shack having entered an uneasy alliance against their shared enemy: the government. Agent Powers begins to suspect his date "Goldie" is hiding something; but it's impossible to tell who to trust when the rest of the town is hiding something too.

Boy is the town ever hiding something.

A lot of somethings, as it turns out.

(There's a code in this chapter! If you're not an eager code-cracker, don't stress about figuring it out, the solution's given later in the chapter. If you are an eager code-cracker, you oughta solve it first before you read the rest of the chapter.)

####

Powers usually woke up before his alarm; but today, the alarm dragged him out of a dream to blink blearily at the thin predawn glow filtering through the thin motel curtain. He couldn't remember what he'd been dreaming about. Something about triangles that glowed like the rising dawn.

The bed seemed bigger than it had the night before. Colder. He was suddenly acutely aware of how lonely his life was.

The motel room didn't have a coffeemaker or microwave. He remembered being frustrated by that oddity in another local motel last summer. Strange how he could remember details like that, but so little else about last summer's investigation. He'd get something at the police department.

He cleaned up, dressed, put his case file in his briefcase, and headed out.

####

"You're an early riser, Agent Powers," Sheriff Blubs observed. "Still on Washington time?"

"Washington is in the same time zone as Oregon," Powers said. "I rise with the sun. Keeps my circadian rhythm regular, keeps me sharp on the job."

"I meant..." Blubs petered out, shrugged, and sipped his coffee.

The police department's coffee was bad, but got the job done. The food on hand appeared to be slightly stale bagels and very fresh donuts. Powers would have to get a proper breakfast later.

"Find what you were looking for at the Mystery Shack?" Blubs asked.

"No," Powers sighed. But, admittedly, he'd been distracted. "But we're not done there yet. We're expecting more specialized equipment from HQ."

Blubs nodded. "Always something going on there," he muttered. "Think you'll arrest Stan Pines again?"

"Hm. According to Mr. Ramirez, he's out of town."

"Huh! Is he?"

"Allegedly. Traveling the world with..." He trailed off, fully registering what Blubs had said. "Sorry—'again'?"

"Like when you brought him in to interrogate last year?" Blubs said. "I assumed nothing came of it, since you let him go without any charges."

He had no recollection of arresting Stan Pines last year. He had no recollection of arresting anyone. He didn't even have the authority to make arrests unless he had reasonable grounds to suspect someone had committed a federal felony. And yet, something about the claim itched at the edge of his brain, like trying to remember what had triggered a case of déjà vu.

The sheriff and his deputy had been Powers's liaison with local law enforcement last summer. They'd been friendly and helpful through the whole investigation. If anybody might know what had happened and be willing to help...

He turned to Blubs. "Sheriff Blubs, did anything that you might call... unusual happen last summer?"

Suddenly Blubs couldn't meet Powers's gaze. "Well uh—never mind all that." (Déjà vu prickled at the back of Powers's mind again. Hadn't Blubs said something like that a few days ago?) Blubs took a deep sip of his coffee. "Say, do you like those donuts? Durland makes 'em!"

"Does he."

"Best donuts in Gravity Falls, if you ask me! I'm trying to watch my weight, but, hoo. Just can't resist his donuts."

Powers almost tried to push Blubs back toward his original question, but...

Have you asked anyone if anything weird happened here last summer? Try it. They act like they didn't even hear you. It's strange.

... maybe not.

####

A steady beeping interrupted Dale's sleep. He slapped his alarm clock, hit something flat and glassy instead, and opened his eyes to see what it was. He was in the car with Trigger, who was also asleep; had they both nodded off?

Last night's memories came rushing back. The old lady. They must have fallen asleep because of the coffee!

She must have used decaf.

Dale blinked at his tablet to see why it was beeping.

"Oh!" He swatted Trigger's shoulder. "Trigger!"

"Mrgh?"

"I've got the missing flash drive's signal again!"

"What?" Trigger sat bolt upright. "Where is it?"

"It's..." Dale frowned. "Ten feet in front of us?"

They looked out the windshield.

A goat, chewing a branchful of leaves, stared at them.

They exchanged a look, then scrambled out of the car. Trigger shouted, "Hey!"

The goat startled and galloped for the woods.

"Stop! Halt! Come back here!" Trigger ran after it.

Dale started to follow, turned around and jogged back to the car, retrieved his keys and phone, locked the car, and then sprinted to catch up.

####

Powers's phone buzzed in his pocket. He answered, "Hello?"

"Hey!" Dale's voice sounded breathless. "We'll be in a bit late! We're in hot pursuit of the flash drive!"

"Excellent," Powers said. "'In hot pursuit'?"

"I think a goat ate it!"

Faintly over the phone, Trigger's voice said, "Which way'd it go?"

"Uh... left, go left!"  To Powers, Dale said, "By the way—thought you should know, we saw Goldie come to the Mystery Shack around one in the morning last night."

Powers's stomach flipped. That was after he'd dropped her off. "What? Why?"

"Don't know. Just thought you'd want to hear."

Baffled, he said, "Thank you. Keep me updated," and ended the call.

"Hey there, lover boy!" Durland elbowed Powers, startling him. He waggling his eyebrows. "Lazy Susan says yooou had a little date last night!"

Powers felt the back of his neck heat up. Gossip traveled fast in a small town. "Er—yes." Not very professional of him, but. "Someone I met in town a couple of days ago named Goldie." (What had she been doing at the Mystery Shack so late?)

"Oh, Goldie!" Blubs said. "Well! He's just a delight."

Powers gave him a quizzical look. He? "We... might be thinking of different Goldies."

Durland said, "Short brown gal? Big yellow hair and a gold tooth?"

A memory from dinner flashed through his mind's eye: a loose golden curl that had come loose and dangled softly in front of her eye; her gold tooth peeking out as she smirked like she knew something no one else did. His stomach flipped. "I... yes, that's her."

"Yeah, we know 'er! We're in the club for—"

"We're in a social club," Blubs cut in. "H—shhe's been looking to get out and meet new folks, I'm glad she ran into you."

A club? Why would a tourist join a club in town? "Is she... local? I was given to understand... well, I suppose I assumed she was a tourist." She'd talked like an outsider. Like it was her and Powers against the rest of this strange town. But then, she'd also talked like she knew this town well.

"Oh, she's an out of towner, but she's staying over at the Mystery Shack for a while. Old colleague of Stanford's, I think," Durland said. He looked at Blubs. "How long is she staying, did she say? Was it for the summer?"

"Could be. I don't think she's mentioned," Blubs said. "That place really fills up in the summertime."

Why hadn't she said anything? 

If she was Stan's colleague, why hadn't he turned her up during their investigation into Stanford Pines's background? (Why had he investigated Stan Pines? He tried to remember.)

Why had she had him drop her off somewhere else, so far from the shack?

What was she hiding?

When Blubs stepped out of the room, Powers turned to Durland and said, voice low, "I need to ask you something. It's important."

"Sure! What is it?"

"Has there been anything... odd happening in town?" he asked. "Possibly paranormal in nature? Maybe involving the Mystery Shack?"

Durland's face immediately closed off. "Oh! Ohhh. Uh—never mind all that. Hey, Bluuubs?" He hurried from the room. "Do you need some, uh—help with the paperwork?"

Powers's eyes narrowed.

He flipped open his case file to skim while he waited for an update from his men—and a jolt shot up his back. There were only three pages in the folder. Where was the rest of it? He checked his briefcase, then rushed outside to check his car. He'd let Goldie read the file; had she...? No. He didn't want to think so.

He drove back to the hotel.

####

As soon as he unlocked the door, he saw a disheveled pile of papers lying on the dresser. He sighed in relief. They must have slid out of his file before he put it in his briefcase. He'd been distracted that morning. Careless of him. (He always seemed to be strangely careless in this town.) He put the papers back where they belonged, shut his briefcase again, and turned toward the door.

There was a rumpled paper on the floor with bright red writing on it.

He picked it up. A short message had been written with a thick marker, the large letters filling the page: "STOP DIGGING UNLESS YOU WANT TO LOSE ANOTHER AGENT."

Another agent?

Powers called Dale, tapping his foot anxiously until he picked up. "Dale! Are you alright?"

"As... as well as I can be, sir." He was breathing heavily. "A little winded. That goat's nimble—"

"What about Trigger? Is he still there?"

"Uh...? Yeah, he's nearby."

"Are you sure?" Powers demanded. "100% sure?"

"H... hold on." A few seconds of panting, and then he said, "Yessir, right here. I've got him by the hand." (Powers heard Trigger quietly ask, "What are we?")

"Good. Have either of you seen anything suspicious, anything at all?"

Trigger leaned closer to the phone to say, "I believe I saw a gnome, sir."

"I didn't see it," Dale added.

"He had a pointy red hat," Trigger reported gravely. "I could have punted him."

Didn't sound like something capable of vanishing a federal agent. "Very well. Watch each other's backs closely," Powers said. "And let me know if anything happens."

Dale said, "You got it, sir."

He hung up and studied the message again. He flipped it over; on the other side of the paper was a flier, prominently headed "Gravity Falls MUSEUM," with a calendar of activities from May. (Apparently, on Wednesdays children could try "gravel panning.") Somebody had scrawled a message on the paper in pen:

TYQ FOP

DYEIGNQL LS FAOE LLY BZYMQUFUW LYVQ DIGQ VQRIJI SAG AG LIYQ

OFWYQ KIM RYJF QWIE

Gibberish. And nobody in his team knew how to crack ciphers...

But he knew somebody in town who did.

He hesitated for just a moment; then dialed the number Goldie had given him last night.

####

Just around the corner of the motel, Stan was pressed to the wall, catching his breath. That had been a close call. He'd arrived at the motel after Agent Powers had left for the morning, picked the door lock, returned the highly classified documents Bill had pilfered, and dropped in the threatening letter Mabel had written; but he'd only barely gotten back out before Powers pulled into the parking lot. He hadn't expected Powers to return nearly so soon. (He half wondered if Bill had planned it that way. He seemed like the kind of con artist who would work throwing a partner-in-crime under the bus into his plan.)

He tiptoed past Powers's door, then ran down the block for his car.

####

Bill was dragged from sleep by the feeling of his burner phone buzzing under the couch cushion. Not already. He'd barely gotten to sleep. He'd only just started his second REM cycle. He groaned, yawned, picked it up, and tried to sound perkier than he felt. "Yello?" He stifled another yawn. "What? No, no, I'm up. Been awake for hours. 

It was the call he'd been expecting. He sat up, suddenly much more awake, grinning broadly. Right into his trap. So far so good. He stretched, only half listening while Powers explained the situation. "A cipher? Yeah, sure, no problem." He grabbed a skirt and tank top, "If it's that urgent, I think I can clear my schedule! Meet you at Greasy's?"

He stuffed foundation and mascara into his umbrella, thumped down the stairs—nearly tripped in his haste—and thudded on Soos's door as he passed. "It's showtime!"

####

When Powers arrived, Goldie was already outside the diner, leaning by the door. (Had she come from the Mystery Shack?) As soon as he was out of his car, she called, "Hey, Bermuda! Making me wait for you?"

"I got here as soon as I could."

She was less made up than last night, and he realized with a sudden burst of warmth that yesterday she must have gotten gussied up for him.

His attention caught on one of her earrings as it reflected the sun into his eyes. Odd; she was wearing the same aqua green triangular earrings she'd worn yesterday—one had a gold star on it—but he hadn't noticed there was a bright gold eye painted on the other triangle. Surely he'd just missed it, though; why would it have gained an eye between last night and today?

Now that he'd noticed it, it was a reassuring sight. He saw that symbol everywhere back in Washington: over opera houses, on the gates of graveyards—even on the ceiling of the Bureau of Covert Investigations' lobby, surrounded by rays of brassy gold. When the BCI first formed, the All-Seeing Eye had been part of its logo—before the Department of Cover-Ups had hastily passed down an order to change it to their current eagle-and-magnifying-glass logo, and then covered up the order. But it hadn't been worth it to renovate the old art deco building's decor, and the Eye of God still benevolently watched over the agents.

As Powers opened the door for Goldie, he asked, "Did you call me 'Bermuda'?"

"I'm dropping a hint! I think you'd look nice in Bermuda shorts."

"O-oh."

She flashed him a brilliant smile as she swept past. "When's the last time you took a vacation, anyway? The beach in town's a lot nicer without a suit on."

In spite of everything he'd heard this morning—it was a relief to see Goldie again.

He could ask about the shack later.

Every booth and half the counter were filled up; they were seated at the end of the counter. Powers sat between Goldie and the crowd, trying as much as he could to shield their conversation from eavesdroppers. "Busier at breakfast than dinner."

"Oh, yeah, Greasy's is the hottest coffee spot in town."

"Is it that good?"

"Dunno. I prefer tea," Goldie said. "It's got more to do with the celebrity endorsement than the coffee itself. Fiddleford McGucket used to hang out here, chain drinking coffee pots. Now everyone wants to get coffee where the great inventor McGucket used to—but now that he's made it big, he doesn't come here himself anymore." She scoffed. "Doesn't that figure!"

"Ah, yes. McGucket." He'd been surprised to see that name in the news. "When I was in town last year, I heard a great deal about a local homeless man who squatted in the junkyard—an 'Old Man' McGucket. A relation of Fiddleford, or...?"

"That's the same guy."

"Huh. The man the locals described didn't sound like a genius inventor."

"He wasn't. A year ago, as far as anybody in town knew, he was just the village idiot." Goldie shrugged. "And all the sudden, the Northwests lose all their money in some kind of fraud deal nobody can make sense of, and now he's living in Northwest Manor!" She let out a disbelieving huff, and Powers was sure he detected skepticism in the cock of her brow. "I guess you can never tell, can you?"

He studied Goldie's face—so beautiful, so intelligent, smiling at him like he was the most fascinating thing in the world. Hiding just how close she was to this town. Pretending she had nothing to do with the Mystery Shack. "I suppose you can't."

Once they'd ordered breakfast, Powers showed Goldie the threatening letter and the note on it. She studied the code critically. "It's not a simple substitution cipher," she muttered. "It can't be anything complex, not if they're just scrawling it on a museum handout and throwing it away like trash. Maybe Vigenère—you need to know a code word for that one. Either they have a standard code word we'll never guess; or, they made it something simple that the recipient would know to look for... Got a pencil?"

Powers fished around in his briefcase for a pencil and handed it over. Goldie pointed at the flier's heading—"Gravity Falls MUSEUM"—underlined the word "MUSEUM," which was larger than anything else on the page, and muttered, "Worth a shot." She drew a complicated grid lettered A to Z along the top and left sides, crossed with vertical lines and horizontal lines and diagonal lines, then wrote the word MUSEUM over and over above each letter in the encrypted text—MUS EUM MUSEUMMU... She tried to explain how the cipher worked as she set up her grid. It flew over Powers's head.

"Now let's hope I grabbed the right word." She started out needing to trace the grid to find each letter, but the farther she got in the message the less often she had to look at it, until she'd translated the whole thing:

HEY BUD

REMEMBER TO LOCK THE PNEUMATIC TUBE ROOM BEFORE YOU GO HOME

UNSEE YOU NEXT WEEK

She pushed the paper over to Powers—"It's not a lot to go on."—and dug into the omelet that had arrived while she was translating. "What does 'unsee' mean?"

"I have no idea." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "It looks like somebody wrote on a scrap paper they had on hand."

"That's not much help," Goldie lamented. "Anybody who's visited the museum since May could've grabbed this calendar—and whoever grabbed it first wrote a note on it and passed it to somebody else. Anyone could have sent this to you." She gestured at the paper. "Maybe you guys can dust it for prints?"

"That takes longer than most people think. And we've both touched it now."

He reread the message. Pneumatic tube room...

Slowly, he said, "I think the museum has pneumatic tubes. I remember seeing them last year."

"Did you?" Goldie's brows shot up. "Huh. Isn't that convenient."

"It is." There couldn't be many other places in town with pneumatic tubes. Maybe the post office, but he doubted it. "This may have been written from one museum employee to another. That would narrow down the suspects..."

"Mind if I come along?" Goldie asked.

Powers gave her a puzzled look. "To?"

"The museum! I don't think I've ever been to the museum! You've got to investigate it, right?" She grinned crookedly. "You know how much I love to see you at work."

Powers tried to ignore the flush creeping up his neck. "I can't allow that. If whoever sent this threat is there, this could be dangerous. I don't want you in harm's way."

The cheeky grin slid off her face. Seriously, she said, "Then that's exactly why you need me. You don't expect me to let you walk in there without any backup, do you?"

She had a point. If Dale hadn't called him yet, he and Trigger were still pursuing the goat. He wasn't sure he could trust the police here.

He wasn't sure he could trust Goldie, either.

But she was willing to admit there was something strange in this town when nobody else was. He wanted to trust her.

And she was right. He did need backup. "Okay; but I want you to stay near the exit." He took out his phone and texted Dale's number to Goldie. "And if anything happens—get help."

####

Goldie promised to stay upstairs, looking at the exhibits; and Powers followed the pneumatic tubes to a staircase, down into the basement...

...and through an immense wooden double door, flanked by lit braziers and framed in an arch of stones, which had a carving depicting two hands cradling an eye that had been X'ed out with blood red spray paint.

Which was a weird thing to find under the museum in a town with barely 5,000 people.

He'd heard rumors about a secret society in the Pacific Northwest whose symbol was an eye with a red X through it—one of the rare secret societies that actually managed to keep its secrets. Was this...?

He eyed the lit braziers nervously—had somebody been here recently?—but closer inspection revealed the flame was actually fueled by gas. Perhaps they were always lit. Dangerous, in a museum filled with old, dry papers and fibers; he began to wonder whether the museum was a mere extension of whatever this was, and not the other way around.

He pushed through the door.

Stone subterranean chamber, more lit braziers, a life size wood carving of a robed man with outstretched arms and a crossed-out eye on his chest standing in front of what looked like a shrine. Powers wasn't one given to flights of fancy, but if he were asked to imagine where an evil secret cult might meet, he'd be hard pressed to think of anywhere more perfect than this. All it was missing was a stone table for human sacrifices.

And the room was filled with hundreds, maybe thousands of pneumatic tube canisters.

He picked a few up. All of them had names written on them, a few labeled "(VISITOR)" or "(TOURIST)", most followed by the word "MEMORIES". He recognized a couple names from his investigation in town. He tried to pry one open and couldn't. What was in these things?

He found a filing cabinet near the carving, with a paper taped on top that read, "TOP SECRET! Do NOT open unless you're permitted to see the Society of the Blind Eye's secrets! (That means NOT YOU, Jeffrey!)" Ah, well—eye with an X through it, they would be called the Blind Eye, wouldn't they.

Powers pulled open the top drawer. There were only a couple of files in this one: one contained what looked like a list, again written in code; the other held what looked like blueprints to some sort of weapon called a "Memory Gun"—and if the notes on its usage and repair in the following pages were anything to go by, the Blind Eye had one of these things and was using it regularly.

As he flipped through the blueprints, a browned, square piece of paper slipped out of the folder and fluttered to the floor. He picked it up. It looked faded and aged, smelled like coffee, and was criss-crossed by diamond creases. Jumbles of incomplete diagrams and letters covered the paper.

As he turned around, a light caught his eye—not the yellow-red flicker of the braziers but a sickly digital glow. There was a computer monitor against the wall, its screen black but for a glowing green X'ed out eye. It sat atop a box labeled "↓INSERT↓"; the label pointed toward a pneumatic tube canister half-slottered into what looked like an oversized battery holder.

Powers scanned the room to make sure he was still alone; then pushed the canister fully into the holder.

It clicked and locked in. The green eye disappeared. The screen displayed a slender woman in her late thirties with coppery hair and a couple of figures in red robes partially visible in the shadows behind her. Metal cuffs bit into the sleeves of her well-worn flannel shirt, pinning her arms to a heavy chair; as she struggled to free herself, a camera swung from a strap around her neck, but somehow Powers doubted she was a sightseeing tourist. She snarled at the video camera recording her, "Where am I?! What do you think you're doing?! If you don't let me go, I swear I'll strangle you with your own stupid red bathrobes—"

An unseen person with a deep voice and a vaguely British accent said, "Be calm. Cooperate and this will all be over soon."

"Like hell am I cooperating! Let me go!" She shrieked at the top of her lungs, "HEEELP—"

One of the robed figures behind her stepped forward and clapped a large, meaty hand over her mouth. The deep voice said, "All we want is for you to tell us one thing: what is it that you have seen?"

The meaty hand tentatively uncovered her mouth so she could reply, then jerked out of the way when she tried to bite him. She snapped, "Nothing! I haven't seen a single stupid thing! You dragged me in with a bag over my head—"

"Did you not run into town, screaming in fear, claiming you were being chased by... some tall, faceless monster?"

"I—What? What does that have to do with—?" Her eyes widened. "What are you, the monster's cult?"

"Quite the opposite." The recording camera moved closer to the woman's face. Someone else snatched the woman's camera away by the neck strap. "Just be calm, think of that faceless monster... and in a moment, you'll never think of it again."

"What do you mean?" The rage slowly drained out of the woman's face, leaving only fear behind as she stared directly into the camera's lens. "What does that thing—? Don't! Don't—"

The recording ended. Static snow filled the screen. What in the world had Powers just watched?

He removed the canister from the slot and the screen went black. The label on the canister read "MRS. CORDUROY MEMORIES". He knew about the Corduroys; the eldest daughter worked for the Mystery Shack.

He had a report on Raina Corduroy's 2009 disappearance in his folder.

There was a date written on the tube canister. It was three days before her disappearance.

Goldie had told him Dan Corduroy was scared of something in the trees.

He flipped open the folder on the Memory Gun; held the canister up against a similar-looking part of the blueprints labeled "MEMORY CANISTER"; and read the other labels on the blueprints: "ELECTRIC TAPE (STORES MEMORIES)," "MEMORY SPECIFIER," "RADIATION BULB (DISASSEMBLES NEUROLOGICAL PATHWAYS)"...

And in a moment, you'll never think of it again.

It couldn't be possible.

He grabbed another memory canister laying on the right corner of the console. "MR. AND MRS. GLEEFUL MEMORIES." He'd visited a Gleeful Auto Mart just a few days ago.

He popped it into place. The screen lit up.

A woman with gray-streaked dusty brown hair sat on a plush pink sofa, sobbing into a tissue and struggling not to hyperventilate. A man—it was the Mr. Gleeful from Gleeful Auto Mart—wrapped an arm around her shoulders comfortingly. The angle was low, aimed at their knees, as though the camera had been left on a coffee table.

"It was awful," Mrs. Gleeful sobbed, "he was—he was lifting things and—throwing them around like some kind of poltergeist, or—or a demon— I've never seen my little Giddy that furious before, I've never seen anyone that furious before..." She grabbed a fresh tissue. "He's—he's got some sort of devil in him, we need to call a priest or a doctor or something—"

"Now, now, honey." Mr. Gleeful held her tighter and patted her arm. "You don't mean that. He's always been a mite tempestuous, you recall; and he's just practicing with those new powers of his—"

"Well I want those powers gone!" She pounded her fists on her bony knees. "Those powers and that awful book and—and—" She burst into heaving sobs again, flung an arm around her husband, and buried her head in his shoulder. "I just want my sweet little boy back."

Mr. Gleeful grimaced uncertainly and murmured, "I don't think I could get that book away from him if I tried." He picked up the camera—not a camera, Powers realized; the "memory gun" was designed to take recordings—and aimed it at himself and his wife. "Don't give yourself a headache crying, sweetheart; you won't worry about him anymore." He squeezed her shoulders reassuringly. "And I'm sure he'll make a better first impression on us with those powers next time."

For a second, she could only sob hitchingly into his shoulder; but then she asked, voice tiny, "Next time?"

Mr. Gleeful squeezed his eyes shut.

The recording ended.

Mr. Gleeful clearly knew what the memory gun did. He'd used it voluntarily. On a suspicion, Powers searched his wallet for the business card Mr. Gleeful had given him.

His name was Bud Gleeful. HEY BUD.

Goldie had sent him to Gleeful Auto.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe Bud Gleeful was a mind wiping cultist and owned the best car dealership in the county. All the same—Powers turned so he could see the door from the corner of his eye, watching it warily, as he picked up the next canister.

It had Preston Northwest's name. He was one of the most important people in town. The patriarch of the richest family in Oregon—until last summer. Descendant of the town founder—allegedly. (Powers had gone undercover at last year's Northwest Fest and seen a few things that made him doubt the credibility of the Northwest family history—but nothing firm; and he couldn't very well interview that ghost now. Something shady was going on, but that wasn't his department.)

He clicked the canister into place. The screen lit up.

The memory gun turned back and forth as Preston paced back and forth in front of his manor's windows, delicately holding a narrow stemmed glass of what looked like bubbly white grape juice, but was probably much stronger. The deep vaguely British voice was back: "Would you explain what exactly it is you called on us for, Mr. Northwest?"

Fuming, Preston said, "Some... child dug up the truth about the town's founder—as well as the founder himself! This is unacceptable!"

"It certainly sounds traumatic," deep voice agreed. "Then you'd like us to... 'liberate' the child from the burden of this memory...?"

"No no no, you don't get it—the founder is still alive! Still alive! Just... running about out there!" He ran a hand through his $300 haircut. "I can't imagine how, he must be over two hundred years old, but—well, you know what this blasted town is like!"

"Intimately," deep voice said distastefully. "Then you want us to erase the child's knowledge that the founder is alive. And perhaps yours? You seem... distressed."

"Wh—?" Preston whirled around to stare at deep voice in outraged offense. "No, not me, you fool! I want you to find the founder, and make him forget his history! His whole life, if you have to!"

There was a pause. "That isn't how we operate, Mr. Northwest."

"I don't care!" Preston began pacing again, taking a deep drink from his definitely-not-grape-juice. "I could have you broken up in an instant if I wanted—nothing in this town runs without the Northwest Family's stamp of approval, and don't forget you're using the facility my grandmother commissioned—so if you want to keep operating, you operate how I say!"

There was a longer pause. The deep voice said, slowly, menacingly, "You really do seem very upset, knowing about this man running around in the woods. You really ought to forget all about him. And us."

"What?" Preston turned again; but this time, his eyes weren't on the speaker, but staring straight into the gun. "Oh no. You can't! You know you can't, how do you think you'll afford all your little custom canisters without my money?!"

"I don't think we'll need to worry about finances."

"Of course not," a clear female voice said. The gun swung around to frame Priscilla Northwest, standing in the doorway at the far end of the room. She said evenly, "As we discussed, I've arranged for your society to continue receiving its annual donation from the Northwests. You have nothing to fear."

Preston gaped at his wife in disbelief. He didn't even notice that the gun was slowly turning to aim at his head again. "Scilly? How do you know about— But— But why— How dare you—"

"You're too wound up over this," Priscilla said evenly. "You need to get it off your mind, darling. You're going to give yourself frown lines."

"Get it off my...?" His broken, dazed laugh was cut off sharply by the end of the recording.

Tape after tape of this. This was pretty obviously some sort of secret society that had been wiping people's memories around town—but to what end? What was the pattern? A woman who'd seen a monster, the parents of "child psychic" Gideon Gleeful (was he a real psychic?), the disgraced descendant of a fraud of a town founder... and if all of these recordings were like that, and if there were hundreds of recordings...

He looked down at the canisters scattered across the console—and spotted a fourth one. Name turned directly toward him, almost as though it wanted him to find it. "GOLDIE LOCKE (VISITOR)".

A chill ran down his spine.

He plugged it in.

Goldie was in the same chair where Mrs. Corduroy had been restrained—wearing a rumpled white button-up and an undone black tie, hair disheveled, teeth bared, one eye squeezed shut tight in pain, the other wide and furious. Her arms weren't strapped down like Mrs. Corduroy's had been; instead, they were wrenched behind her back. Apparently someone had restrained her first and then flung her into the chair.

She was already talking when the recording started: "—it doesn't matter what you do to me! Threaten me any way you want, I won't talk!"

"Talking is exactly what we don't want you to do, Ms. Locke." The deep voice was back, although sounding a little rougher than in the other recordings. (It was clear there had been a struggle; Powers hoped Goldie had broken his nose.) "And we'll make sure you never do."

Goldie flinched, both eyes opening. "You're going to...?"

"No, not that. We don't use such messy methods. It's enough to make sure you don't remember your current assignment—or anything that could lead you back to it."

"My team will be looking for me—"

"Your team won't remember you. We'll be dealing with them shortly." The gun lurched a foot closer to Goldie's face. She flinched again in fear. "I hope your life is flashing before your eyes, Ms. Locke! Because this is the last time you'll ever remember it!"

Her wide eyes got wider. “Wait—! No! Whoa-whoa-whoa wait wait stop STOP STOP—"

The recording ended.

Leaning on both hands over the console, Powers stared into the static snow with mute horror.

######

(Post-TBOB changes: added half the sentence "and don't forget you're using the facility my grandmother commissioned" to suggest it was Abigale Blackwing who built the big stone chambers under the museum. The rest of Preston's statement was the same, since I'd already decided the Northwests were bankrolling the Blind Eye—Abigale was just a bit of serendipity. And I think that's it? This chapter was impacted more by the official Gravity Falls coloring book than by TBOB.

PSA: this is the first chapter from Powers's POV, which means it's the first chapter that almost exclusively calls Bill "Goldie" and "she/her." So, a reminder: canon has exclusively called him "Bill" and "he/him" since 2013, and so do I except when I'm writing the POV of characters who don't know who Bill actually is. You, reader, know who Bill is.

I've had trouble in the past with commenters using the wrong name/pronouns for Bill just because he's been stuffed inside a body he does not identify with; so, don't let a chapter from a character who's wrong make the situation worse, please. Thanks.

Anyway!! We're shifting into conspiracy mode y'all. Wish Agent Powers luck. I'll be interested to hear y'all's theories on where Bill is going with all this; some parts of the hints/foreshadowing have been more overt than others.)

[enkays-den]

Enkay Watches the Imp and Skizz Podcast #127 (featuring @joehills)

First of all, if you are not watching Joe Hills on either youtube or twitch, DO IT!!!! He's streaming pretty much every day and the conversations are always so interesting and he has the best little windows into the workings of Hermitcraft. Folks will pop by and have super interesting conversations with him! He's one of my favorite hermits and I think his unique way of experiencing minecraft, life, and hermitcraft is something that deserves more eyes on it, because I know people are sleeping on him.

First off, THIS is how you show up to the Imp and Skizz Podcast! Classy, on brand, and unique!

I love Impulse's little nest of pillows, he's so cozy nestled in there, holding his mandated amount of water like a security blanket

I love that the reason they wanted Joe on was to talk about the coup SPOILERS: they never even touch on it

joe's dad being a logician makes so much sense tbh

"a creationist universe where god wants you dead and i play minecraft like a greek hero idiot" is such an amazing way to talk about super hostile maps

HOW IS IT THAT JOE AND SKIZZ BOTH HAVE EDGAR ALLEN POE ANECDOTES OFF THE DOME

Joe having his wedding taking place during the recess of a vehicular manslaughter trial feels so strange and yet so Joe

JOE HILLS FULL NAME DROP?????

"YOU'VE GOTTA BE JOE KING" okay he mentioned on stream that there was a joke that maybe two people would get and I will proudly claim to be one of the two.

"fighting to become an artist" is so validating to Skizz's journey so far. It's gonna be his year anniversary of being a hermit soon and im gonna get emotional about his path this last year

Joe WOULD put on the Scottish Parliament sessions as background noise, love that

"I don't trust any platform with my art. I'm the one that makes the art and the audience is the one that appreciates my art" "I need to be as platform/brand agnostic as possible" "next time Amazon does something terrible to the unions" 👏👏👏

CHEERS REFERENCE, SKIZZ'S SITCOM BRAIN IS ACTIVATED

talking about his streams like a bar and like,,,,, he's so smart about the role of creators and fandom and i just appreciate joe so much

it's funny that they're shocked about the relationships can be formed within fandoms when like,,,,, that's how they met tango

((also if we talk regularly and read this i love you guys <3))

skizz, the worst chat reader ever i love you

i need hermitcraft standup. please. custom texture snowballs as tomatoes or flowers to throw

thinking about a younger skizz using a tape recorder to record his 'genius ideas' and quotes he likes and annoying the crap out of his friends

YES JOE AND SKIZZ TALKING ABOUT THE SCIENCE OF COMEDY AND THE STRUCTURE, THEY'RE SUCH AN INTELLECTUAL DUO

I'm glad that we got to hear Joe's JFK impression

COURT CASE TALK!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Bdubs will only let Doc win if it's funnier for doc to win, because that's how guilty doc was"

Joe quoting Sun Tsu and then going on the stand and said "Your Honor, Your Highness, my client is a baby" in an asymetric star trek dress, that's the Joe Hills Difference

"DELICIOUS" skizz i love how schadenfreude you are

"FIVE DIAMONDS PER F TIER BOOK???" impulse my favorite wet cat

"I'll make one sale every two months" and also implying that the shopping district has property taxes

the delivery on "two. some people say four" was SLICK

TUMBLR MCYT SEXYMAN POLL MENTION

"tumblr defines sexyman to mean 'most bizarre, cryptid, creepy thing' " not wrong there.

"well scar is obviously going to win the sexyman competition"

"once i found out that it's for weird, cryptid energy, I knew "oh nevermind I'm gonna win this"

joe hills is my favorite weird guy and he deserved to win

cleo as our nonbinary icon placing third place in the tumblr sexyman poll

All in all, fantastic podcast, and not long enough imo. I hope Joe gets to be there in person one day like he originally envisioned, and there's just an untapped well of information that could go into future podcasts

Reminder that you should subscribe and follow Joe!

BONUS, edited by me, please credit if you use it, I HIGHLY ENCOURAGE you to use it (original screencap under cut):

[calder]

In every mainline Fallout game except for New Vegas, players can earn the loyalty of a dog known as “Dogmeat.” As part of the main quest of Fallout 4, Dogmeat assists in tracking down the antagonist, even if the player has never encountered him before. When you leave Kellogg’s home, Nick simply starts talking about Dogmeat as if he’s a known quantity.

Perhaps related to this quirk of the world, Dogmeat is first named in this game when the clairvoyant Mama Murphy recognizes him and addresses him by name. The game’s UI calls him “DOG” until he is recognized by Valentine or Murphy. It seems clear that this german shepherd is somehow an independent agent with a good reputation, or something.

Dogmeat does not have a loyalty quest associated with him, which is how the player would earn the other companions’ perks. However, upon finding Astoundingly Awesome Tales #9 within the Institute, Dogmeat becomes more resistant to damage. While this isn’t coherent or conclusive evidence of Dogmeat being a synth, it’s plainly prompting the audience to consider that idea. In light of these factors, his origins have been fiercely debated among the community.

The skeptics and “hard sci-fi” fans out there would have you believe that he’s merely a famous stray dog who solves crimes. But I believe there's something more remarkable at work.

There's a section in the Fallout 2 instruction book called the Vault Dweller's Memoirs, where the player character of the first game recounts what canonically happened. Due to Fallout’s famously terrible companion AI, if you travelled to Mariposa with Dogmeat, he would consistently run into the force fields and get vaporized. So, in the Memoirs, we learn that this is exactly what became of Dogmeat Prime, in canon. He loyally sprinted into a wall of solid light, and disappeared. What if our buddy simply awoke in a new, confusing place?

In Fallout 2, Dogmeat must be found at the Cafe of Broken Dreams, which is explicitly a liminal space. It appears randomly to travellers in the desert. The NPCs within are frozen in time, such as a young version of President Tandi, who mentions that Ian went to “the Abbey,” an area cut from the game. To gain Dogmeat’s trust, the Chosen One must equip the Vault Dweller’s V-13 jumpsuit, which Dogmeat recognizes as belonging to his dead master. You can also attack him to spawn Mad Max, who claims ownership of the dog. Max fits the description of Dogmeat's original owner given in Fallout.

There’s also the “puppies” perk in Fallout 3, which enables you to restore Dogmeat, in the event of his death. “Dogmeat’s puppy” inherits his base and ref ids. In other words, they ARE the same NPC, just renamed. So, the way this actually articulates is that whenever Dogmeat dies in combat, you can find him waiting for you back at Vault 101. In practice, it’s almost Bombadilian.

Lastly, please consider the following developer context.

In June of 2021, the dog who performed Dogmeat’s motion capture and voice for Fallout 4 passed away. A statue of her was placed outside of every Vault in the China-exclusive sequel to Fallout Shelter. She still watches over each player.

River's owner, developer Joel Burgess, honored her in a brief thread about her involvement in the game, and shared much about his thought process and design goals while leading the character’s development. The Dogmeat project changed course early on, after Mr. Joel saw a new member of the art team gathering references of snarling German Shepherds. This motivated him to bring River into the studio, so the artists and developers could spend time with her.

He wanted to steer the team away from viewing Dogmeat as a weapon, and towards viewing him as a friend. Everything special about Dogmeat was inspired by River. For example, whenever you travel with Dogmeat, he’s constantly running ahead of you to scout for danger, then turning to wait for you. This was inspired by River’s consistent behavior on long walks. The only way they were able to motivate River to bark for recordings was by separating her from Joel while he waited in the next room. Reading the thread, it’s very clear that he hoped Dogmeat would make players feel safe, encouraging them to explore, and to wonder. In his closing thoughts, he said the following:

-Joel Burgess

Mr. Joel felt it was important to express that the ambiguity of Dogmeat’s origin in Fallout 4 was deliberately built into his presentation. He also felt it was important that you know Dogmeat loves you. Dogmeat was designed, on every level, to reflect the audience’s inspirations, and to empower their curiosity.

The true lore of Dogmeat is a rorschach test. The only “right” answer is to pursue whatever captures your imagination.

[hoodreader]

𝒫𝑅𝐼𝒩𝒞𝐸𝒮𝒮 𝒯𝐼𝒜𝒩𝒜 𝐸𝒩𝐸𝑅𝒢𝒴

♡ ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི tiana most embodies the energy of saturn for most of the film. she’s so absorbed in labor / work that she’s like a hermit. and the most saturnian thing about it as well is that she does it to sort of honor her late father, whom she looked up to + felt inspired by

♡ ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི it’s also a classic rags 2 riches type of story. tiana grew up impoverished, like most other black louisianans in the ‘20s

♡ ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི i don’t think these qualities of being a hard worker are necessarily admirable - u need balance. she worked her whole life ( three jobs !? ) and overworking urself is actually anti-saturn. that’s the lesson she had to learn

♡ ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི i’m guessing she’s a capricorn rising. always had so much responsibility and never really allowing herself to have fun + fail + be human + fall in luv

♡ ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི her personality is effortlessly graceful and really regal. despite being a poor black girl from louisiana, prince naveen thought tiana was a princess at charlotte’s party - i feel like royalty are able to identify themselves quite easily. so just wearing a princess dress doesn’t make someone princess-like, but bc tiana has so much grace / charm / poise, he assumed she was also of royal lineage

♡ ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི she’s pretty strong minded, funny, etc but she doesn’t really let people in enough for them to see that she is. when naveen came to learn that she did have a lot of personality outside of work, he was pleasantly surprised !

♡ ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི she’s also smart as hell :) bold and protective. she’s fiercely loyal - when the shadow man offered her all of her dreams in exchange for the necklace, she decided to be loyal to love / herself / naveen. even tho having that restaurant meant to much to her and her father

♡ ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི so for that reason… i’m getting leo sun vibes from her. regal, charming, loyal

♡ ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི she’s very sentimental - when her mother gifted tiana the gumbo pot her father used, she was brought near tears. her wanting to have a restaurant at all is very sentimental

♡ ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི she’s imaginative. despite everyone telling her that she shouldn’t pursue her dream - bc she’s a poor black woman - she doesn’t quit. she keeps going! she’s a dreamer

♡ ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི she claimed she struggled to dance bc she’s never done it, but she was able to so quickly learn how to dance with naveen in that one scene. she has a natural artistic affinity

♡ ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི she’s good in the kitchen! i think that’s a gift that shows intuitive abilities

♡ ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི for that reason, i peg tiana as a pisces moon! sensitive, still loving her family a lot ( she just channels it into work ), a dreamer, and a visionary

as for her other placements… i feel like she’s a virgo mercury, virgo venus, and aquarius mars. but these are mostly vibes, lol

u cannn switch the rising and sun ( leo rising + cap sun ) instead. but that’d change her other planets too. so for that, i see: leo rising, pisces moon, capricorn sun, capricorn? mercury, capricorn venus, and aquarius mars.

what do you think? this was my favorite movie growing up, i watched it probably ( no exaggeration ) thousands of times lol. anyway, i hope this was a fun read. i want to do more disney characters son

[yokumirumerafan]

Hello, can I ask for Demon slayers reacting to artist reader drawing them?

Heyyyy!!!! Of course!

Demon Slayer Characters Reacting to Artist Reader Drawing Them

Hashira

Giyuu Tomioka

At first, he doesn’t even realize you’re drawing him. He just sits there, staring off into space as usual.

When you show him, his eyes widen slightly, and he’s quiet for a long moment.

“You drew this?” He’s genuinely surprised, not because he doubted your talent but because he didn’t expect you to waste your time drawing him.

He treasures the drawing, even if he pretends not to care. You might catch him glancing at it when he thinks no one is looking.

Shinobu Kocho

Smiles immediately when she notices you sketching her. She doesn’t say anything, but you can tell she’s secretly pleased.

Once you show her the finished piece, she giggles.

“Oh my, you’ve made me look even more beautiful than usual. Are you trying to flatter me?”

Playful, but deep down, she’s touched that you’d spend so much effort capturing her likeness. She might even ask for another drawing, pretending it’s for ‘comparison.’

Kyojuro Rengoku

Super enthusiastic about it!

“WOW! This is AMAZING! Your talent is truly remarkable!”

Insists on showing it off to EVERYONE. He holds it up proudly, beaming with joy.

Might even commission you to draw his family, promising a huge meal as payment.

Tengen Uzui

Immediately smirks when he realizes what you’re doing.

“Ah, I see you’ve chosen the flashiest model. Excellent choice!”

Overly dramatic about it, striking ridiculous poses for you.

When he sees the finished drawing, he nods in approval.

“You’ve captured only a fraction of my brilliance, but I suppose that’s the best any mortal artist can do.”

Secretly keeps the drawing and brags about it to his wives.

Mitsuri Kanroji

Absolutely melts when she sees what you’re doing.

“Oh my gosh, you’re drawing me?! That’s so sweet!”

Super flustered but LOVES it. Might even tear up a little because she feels so appreciated.

Will 100% ask you to draw her and her friends, and she keeps your drawing in her room like a prized possession.

Muichiro Tokito

He notices you drawing but doesn’t say anything.

When you show him, he blinks a few times, tilting his head.

“Oh. That looks nice.”

You think he doesn’t care, but later, you spot him just staring at the drawing, lost in thought.

He quietly tucks it away in his belongings, making sure nothing happens to it.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

“Why are you drawing me?! Don’t you have better things to do?”

Pretends to be irritated, but he keeps sneaking glances at your sketch.

When you finally show him, he goes silent for a moment.

“Tch. It’s not bad.”

He takes the drawing and keeps it somewhere safe, though he will NEVER admit how much he likes it.

Obanai Iguro

Notices immediately and watches you intently.

“You’re drawing me? Hm.”

When you show him, he’s silent for a long moment before mumbling, “It’s... nice.”

Secretly very flustered but hides it well. Kaburamaru, however, seems to like it, slithering onto the drawing as if claiming it.

He keeps the drawing close, maybe tucked inside his uniform.

Main Trio + Genya

Tanjiro Kamado

SO HONORED.

“You’re drawing me? Really?! That’s amazing! Thank you so much!”

Super appreciative, praises your skills endlessly.

Will 100% show it to Nezuko and everyone else, gushing about how talented you are.

Zenitsu Agatsuma

LOSES HIS MIND.

“Y-YOU’RE DRAWING ME?!”

Blushes like crazy and starts acting all dramatic.

When he sees the finished drawing, he clutches his heart.

“I-If you keep this up, I might just fall even more in love with you!”

He will NEVER let go of the drawing. It’s his most prized possession.

Inosuke Hashibira

Has no idea what you’re doing at first.

“WHAT IS THIS? YOU’RE SCRIBBLING MY FACE?!”

When he sees the final drawing, he grins.

“HAH! YOU CAPTURED THE MIGHTY LORD INOSUKE WELL!”

Might try to ‘improve’ it by drawing a stick-figure version of you in return.

Genya Shinazugawa

SUPER AWKWARD about it.

“Wait, you’re drawing me? Why?”

When you show him, he just stares at it, completely flustered.

“... It’s nice. Thanks.”

He keeps it, though, and looks at it whenever he feels down.

Overall, they all appreciate it in their own way, even if some of them try to act cool about it! 😆

[nightisawkward]

"Another challenger… it has been ages. Perhaps you have forgotten how this game is played. Allow me to remind you."

Happy halloween fellas!!! Hermitcraft/Life SMP inscryption AU ft. Boatem gang I cooked up awhile ago but never got around to posting B-) Wild life smp has reminded me how mentally ill I am about putting these Guys in Situations so here I am

Mild to major inscryption spoilers under the cut!

For those familiar with the game, the general roles are:

Luke Carter - "Challenger"/Grian

In this AU Grian is still a trading card-based youtuber who's recording all this nonsense going down real time as in canon, but has closer ties to the GameFuna company equivalent, named "WatcherCorp". His old college roommate/best mate Jimmy went to work for them, but mysteriously passed away in a fire at their headquarters. He found the Inscryption cards in Jimmy's leftover personal belongings a few years after his death, and decided that the best way to honor him would be to make a video featuring the project he put his heart and soul into... in more ways than one.

Key difference from canon Inscryption: Grian's mind is sucked into the game of Inscryption whenever he is playing. He is able to enter and leave the game at will, but he doesn't realize this until he first dies to Leshy/Pearl and ejects himself unconsciously out of fear of dying. The only reason he realizes he isn't hallucinating is because his camcorder footage proves he actually enters the game. He obtains the "Watcher's Eye" during Act 1, which he keeps for all future acts and allows him to see things he shouldn't see as a Challenger.

P03 - "Scarred Stoat"/Scar

Despite being the one who convinces Grian and the other Scrybes to stand up against Pearl, no one seems eager to spend any more time with the conniving conman than absolutely necessary. This may have something to do with Scar's history of backstabbing and cheating both Scybes and Challengers whenever it benefits him most. Which makes it rather unfortunate that Grian is must spend time with Scar in order to gather as much information as possible.

In the beginning, Scar and Grian do not get along in the slightest. Grian finds Scar's attitude too "fake", while Scar finds Grian's "cowardice" to be irritating. At some point, the two go from passive-aggressive fighting, to a grudging truce, to more friendly, lighthearted banter. Neither person seems to trust the other, but it doesn't seem to stop the two from being ✨saddled with unnecessary feelings✨. Scar's Act 3 world is much like Leshy's Act 1 world, with much more emphasis put on environmental storytelling and general Vibes than actual gameplay. Even if his game is a smokescreen for his true goal of Ascension, he feels strangely obligated to give Grian his best shot.

Scar in his proper Scrybe form appears more steampunk than canon P03. Think of a Grumbot with Scar's boatem base aesthetic and tons of missing nuts and bolts. P03's bastardous tendencies+ Scar's steampunk base made this role perfect for him.

Magnificus - "Horned Wolf"/Impulse

Impulse is a talented artist and an even more talented programmer. His future sight stems from his literal sight: His eyes are able to see read the code veil behind Inscryption, allowing him to predict likely futures based on what code is running. He often laments his status as an NPC, claiming that if he were given administrative privileges and the actual ability to modify source code he would have been able to escape Inscryption long ago.

He is rather absent in Act 2, focusing on finishing his "artwork" as soon as possible. He uses his brush to create a menagerie magical creatures with strange abilities in hopes that using one in battle might trigger a unfixable bug, allowing him to rip a hole through the source code. It is unclear whether he was able to accomplish his goal before Act 3 roles around, but it seems like Scar's method of Ascension seems awfully similar to Impulse's... perhaps a sneaky spy was able to steal Impulse's information?

As a proper Scrybe, he resembles a walking mop or a yak with overgrown fur. Most of his features are indistinguishable, save for his small horns and his glowing goat eyes.

Lemora - "Distinguished Stinkbug"/Mumbo

Mumbo is by far the most easygoing Scrybe in the cast. While he would greatly prefer an eternal slumber over yet another temporary ceasefire amongst the Scrybes, he is willing to work with the others in Act 1 simply because he finds his stinkbug form too uncomfortable to sleep in. Mumbo's goal is simple: to delete the game of Inscryption, and therefore himself, and finally rest. However, finds the constant power struggles in the world of Inscryption rather tiring and simply can't be bothered to make a grab for power himself to achieve this goal. This hasn't stopped him from asking Grian to destroy floppy disk of Inscryption. Unfortunately for him, the temptation of the o̷l̵d̷ ̶d̸a̶t̷ [REDACTED] mysteries within Inscryption are simply too powerful for Grian to resist.

As a proper Scrybe, he looks almost exactly like Mumbo's minecraft skin: A pale, mustached man with blood red eyes who resembles a vampire. Mumbo denies all vampire allegations. While he is the most "normal" looking Scrybe, Grian would still hesitate to call him "human" ...there's just something slightly off about his appearance that sets him on edge.

Leshy - "Game Master"/Pearl

Pearl is an unforgiving gamemaster that puts more emphasis on providing the player a challenge than her canon counterpart. After her self-proclaimed "tutorial", there is no more handholding and she gives Grian an absolute hellish time. Grian is only able to get a slight edge when he discovers all of the Scrybes, who provide him with stategy help to even the playing field. It is unclear whether Pearl actually enjoys running her Act 1 game or not: she seems to derive an animalistic pleasure from defeating Grian, but there are times where she seems tired and fed up with the endless gameplay loop and intentionally throws during key fights. She switches between manic and depressed at the drop of a hat.

During Act 2, she barely even tries to give Grian a challenge, allowing him to progress straight to her boss fight without any side quests to "get it over with quicker". She seems to hold a deep grudge against Scar for some reason, which is the only thing that motivates her to take action to stop him during Act 3.

Mysteriously, Grian finds a burned and unusable Unicorn card within her Act 1 cabin. Upon discovery, Scar immediately suggests that Grian leave it where he found it. Some things are best left forgotten, after all...

[matchalovertrait]

Alegría v Caruso: Day 3, Pt. 2

"Please state your name and occupation for the record," Antonio requested.

"Mia D'Angelo-Ramirez. Michelin-starred chef and head judge of Diced Junior," the woman spoke calmly.

"What was your impression of Ms. Alegría?"

Mia smiled. "At first? I saw a younger version of myself, though not nearly as shy. She's a star. A brilliant artist. She made a name for herself."

"So, in your professional opinion and experience, has Ms. Alegría ever shown signs of struggling with originality?"

"Not once. She's quick on her feet. That's one of the reasons why she was chosen to compete in Diced Junior."

Antonio nodded. "Would someone like Ms. Alegría—who has spent years refining her skills, proving her creativity, and training at Santoro—have any reason to steal recipes?"

"No. She wouldn't need to. Even when she and another contestant both prepared soups for the second round, their dishes were still distinct. If we suspected copying, she would have been eliminated for that alone."

Antonio turned to the jury. "There you have it. Straight from one of the most respected chefs in the industry. Ms. Alegría is not a thief. She is an innovator. There is no question about her talent or whether she deserved her spot. She didn't need to steal."

Then it was Isabela's turn. "Ms. D'Angelo-Ramirez, just to clarify, you attended Santoro yourself, correct?"

"Yes, I'm an alumna."

"How many Diced Junior contestants have been accepted into Santoro over the years?"

"Not many."

"So, it's quite rare for a former contestant to be accepted into such an acclaimed program?"

"It's rare because Santoro has high standards, even higher than needed to be accepted to compete in Diced Junior. Clearly, Dulce met them."

Isabela paused, trying not to smirk. "Or maybe... she is not that skilled and had a little help?"

The people in the courtroom grew curious.

Antonio knew exactly where she was headed. "Objection. Speculation."

"Sustained," the judge asserted. "Careful, Ms. Campos."

Isabela continued, "Let's talk about Mr. Caruso, then. Ms. D'Angelo-Ramirez, as part of the Diced Junior selection process, did Mr. Caruso ever make it into the show?"

Dulce had no idea where Isabela was going with this. That's a weird question.. doesn't that go against her own client?

"No," Mia responded with caution, also noting the odd question. "He auditioned multiple times but was never selected.

A few jurors exchanged glances, some of them gasped. Auditioned several times, and he never got in?

Isabela moved forward, "And Mr. Caruso didn't need a TV show to prove himself. He got into Santoro on his own merit, didn't he?"

"I suppose so? I'm not part of the Santoro admission committee, Ms. Campos."

"And yet, Ms. Alegría—someone you publicly vouched for—was accepted into the same program as you, despite the chances."

"Objection-" Antonio began to say.

"Overruled," the judge said. "Proceed."

Isabela looked at the judge. "Your Honor, I have evidence. May I present it to the court?"

"Go ahead. But it better be relevant."

"Ms. D'Angelo-Ramirez, during filming, you told Ms. Alegría, and I quote: "I'll be watching your career closely. Don't let me down, alright? Be smart with your choices."

Mia knew it was true before Isabela played the video. She had meant for the conversation after Dulce's elimination to happen off-camera, but the producers had kept rolling and aired the footage anyway.

"I truly saw potential in Dulce. Don't twist my words," Mia argued.

Isabela turned to the jury. "All I ask is that you consider the possibility that personal connections—not talent—played a role in Dulce's admission to Santoro. Perhaps Ms. Alegría isn't as skilled as she claims. Ms. D'Angelo-Ramirez took a liking to her, after all. And she said, 'Don't let me down.' Now that Ms. Alegría is facing serious allegations, isn't it possible that Ms. D'Angelo-Ramirez is simply trying to save face?"

Fine, Isabela. Want to bring out the clips? Let's do it then.

"Your Honor, if I may, I would like to present a compilation of clips from Ms. Alegría's episode of Diced Junior."

What was this? Movie time? The judge really wished it was allowed to eat popcorn on the job. "Proceed, Mr. Romero."

A lively preteen Dulce was shown on the screen. The courtroom watched the young chef talk about her dishes in detail, share her thought processes, and maneuver around the kitchen with ease. The professionalism and precision were apparent. Many adults now can't do what the child on the television was doing.

When the video ended, Antonio turned to the jurors. "That is the same Dulce Alegría that is sitting in front of you today. Imagine everything else she accomplished in nearly a decade after his was filmed."

He continued. "Dulce Alegría is not a thief. Maybe she didn't win Diced Junior, but she has proved herself in many ways. She had a promising career, which is now suffering because of damaging lies. She lost opportunities. Doors that were once open for her were promptly shut. I ask you to hold the defendants responsible. Words have power, and today, your verdict will ensure that truth prevails. Thank you."

It was time for the jurors to deliberate.

Start from the beginning (Gen 2)

Previous | Next

[woman-respecter]

hating on an annoying insta author because i’m a bitch: page powars part 2

once again, please don’t harass this person or anything. i’m just hating because it’s in my blood.

ok, you don’t need to read part 1 of this post because this is a seperate rant, here’s all you need to know: page powers is an author who the instagram algorithm keeps pushing on me. his book “and they were roommates” is about a 15 year old trans guy who is assigned to room with his ex bf from before he transitioned.

if you think plot and title sounds like it would be something from an au fanfiction, you and i are on similar wavelengths. but page seems to be offended at comparisons to certain fanfiction

(midoriya and bakugo = very popular ship between two hs anime boys in a shounen series)

while at the same time comparing his own work to another gay ship

(alhaitham and kaveh = genshin impact ship between two adult men who are roommates and do have the vibe of being exes i will not lie)

he claims that his book was written before the ship existed, which i am a little suspect about as the ship was first introduced in 2022 iirc but i’ll take him at his word. i just think it’s silly that he is SO offended that someone said his high school romance fanfic book reminded them of a popular fanfiction couple, but was like. yes. i want to be just like this other fanfic couple. and it’s not even like genshin is less “cringe” than bnha, they are both popular yet oft mocked franchises. oh also he got one of the va’s from the genshin ship to voice his audiobook. which is honestly pretty funny. anyways, this isn’t a big deal, just midly annoying and silly.

but what REALLY got me was his response to a negative review from the respected kirkus reviews

.

i just find this breathtakingly annoying. kirkus rightfully points out that this book is fandom cliche shit and his response is being like “but ao3 is so popularrrr so it must be good!” like listen, i love ao3 too, i love my yaoislop. but the fact that ao3 is popular does not mean that your yaoislop has artistic merit*. that’s like claiming mr. beast burger deserves a james beard award because mcdonalds sells billions of burgers in a year.

and this is, of course, not to mention the hypocrisy of page claiming kirkus looks down upon fanfiction when HE HIMSELF DOES AS WELL. he scorns his foremothers** in the genre while using the popularity of their work as a shield for criticism of his own. pick a lane. either be honored to be compared to the bakudekus or admit you are writing slop.

*this is not to say nothing on ao3 has artistic merit though. i’ve read some great stuff and i know the middle aged office ladies shipping spirk or destiel can be pretty brilliant writers. it’s just that the published fanfic-esque work is never by the heroes of ao3 and can never reach the site’s highs, in part because a good fanfic is a dialogue with the source material and by filing the serial numbers off to make it publishable that is lost (or was never there to begin with)

**bakudekus are his contemporaries not foremothers but i count them as part of a decades long literary tradition of pairing up boys in bad shounen anime.

[whyanne4]

Daylight

Part: 2/?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Category: Social Media au

Summary: Follow the love story of a global pop icon and a monegasque F1 driver

Face claim: Taylor Swift (Singing) + others

Masterlist

2018

f1

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 2 689 329 others

f1: BREAKING: Charles Leclers signs a contract with Ferrari starting in the 2019 season

view comments:

graciethewag: OMG I am so happy for him!!🥹

scuderiaferrari: Welcome to the team Charles❤️

- charles_leclerc: It's an honor to be a part of the team FORZA FERRARI!❤️

yourusername: I've always looked good in red so I see this as an absolute win🤷‍♀️

- holly_leclerzz: lmao you're so real for that

- gridpenalty231: Yes girl! Slay the Ferrari red!!!💅

- charles_leclerc: I just signed with my dream team and this is what you come up with?😒

- yourusername: Just joking baby😘 I'm so happy for you FORZA FERRARI❤️

- scuderiaferrari: We've got mother on our team😤

- charles_leclerc: I see who's the favorite🥲

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, badgalriri and 5 393 359 others

yourusername: My man😍😮‍💨 Let's appreciate the ft screenshot I got of him yesterday. Thirstiness aside, amore I am so proud of you for achieving your life long dream of driving for Ferrari and I know that your loved ones whom are no longer with us would be too. I look forward to cheering for the red cars next season!❤️

view comments:

charl_lecleczz: Y/N casually showing off how hot her and her bf are before dropping the cutest caption ever

hardtires313: are we not going to talk about how hot Charles looks in that pic??

charles_leclerc: my biggest supporter❤️

- yourusername: always🤍

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, arianagrande and 10 393 359 others

yourusername: It felt appropriate to to do an F1 theme with this album announcement since the person it's about is an F1 driver. I am proud to announce that my new album Lover will be out February 14th 2019.

view comments:

y/ngirlforevs: SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP!!! HE GETS AN ENTIRE ALBUM WRITTEN ABOUT HIM????

rorytheracingcar: STOP!!! this is too much for me to handle😭 I still can't believe that my fav f1 driver and my fav artist are dating and now she goes and writes an album about him??!! Y/N and Charles fans STAY WINNING!!

y/nhasaniceface: This man must've done something incredible in his past life to deserve all of this

safetycar92: The fact that she made the announcement f1 themed does something to my heart 🥹

charles_leclerc: I am so proud of you my love, you never seize to amaze me. Your talent, voice and beauty is otherworldly❤️

- arthur_leclerc: Charles, you are disgusting but I am so proud of my future sister in law that I'm gonna let it slide

- yourusername: thank you Arthur and Charles. I love you both!❤️🤍

- yellowflagzz: FUTURE SISTER IN LAW??

yourusername uploaded a story

[dcdreamblog]

Since time travel has been mentioned a time or two, a story and then a question.

I grew up in a rural area with a small government installation nearby these many years ago. There was just enough population to support one combination elementary and high school, and barely enough money for teachers, so the teachers they did have tended to have a lot of job security.

The high school history teacher was generally a good teacher and a reasonable person, but apparently had a bug up his ass about one particular topic. At the beginning of each quarter, he'd explain to the classes he was teaching that time travel was not real, we were not to mention time travel in response to any question, and referring to time travel in any way in homework or a test would be an automatic "F."

In 10th grade, a new kid, I'll call him Steve, transferred into the school because his dad was working at the government installation, in the middle of the quarter. Everything was fine for a couple of weeks, new kids were excitement in our tiny school.

Then one day our history class was learning about an event in Ancient Greek history. And Steve raises his hand. Turned out that when he was a kid, his family had lived down the road from Rip Hunter and his crew, and Steve had gotten to hang out with Mr. Hunter's teenage assistant Corky a few times with other small boys, and Corky had told them about going to that particular event, and what really happened was--

The history teacher, of course, was rapidly building up fury. I could see his cheeks turning red and almost could see steam comiing out of his ears. Just as Steve was getting to the good part of the story, something about disguised aliens, the teacher erupted. He told Steve in no uncertain terms that there was no such thing as time travel, never had been and never would be, and that Rip Hunter in particular was a fraud and con artist who bilked investors by making up wacky stories and forging artifacts.

Steve, as any sixteen year old with a bit of worldly assurance might, pushed back, trying to defend Rip Hunter's honor. This became a shouting match and Steve got sent to the principle's office.

From what I heard later, Steve's father was called, and he allowed that while, yes, his family had lived down the road from Rip Hunter's land, he himself had never met the man and certainly never saw any proof of time travel, and Corky might have been telling tall tales to impress the younger boys. Still, he disagreed with the history teacher's getting angry about it.

Steve was silent and fuming in history class from then on, and his family got reassigned during the summer.

So, question, how does your field of history handle claims of time travel?

This sort of gets onto a larger question as to how my field is seen by more "established" historical fields. In short: Not well.

To fully lay out my credentials. I have a Bachelor's in Superhero Studies with a Minor in Political Geography. My focus in both is respectively the Golden Age from 1938-1950 and Ethnic Demographics within Modern Nation States.

I am a Historian. My job is to examine historical facts through primary and secondary sources and provide the best possible window from the present to the past through the lens of truth. Whether more "academic" historians feel that my specialization is valid or not is neither my problem nor my concern.

The idea that the champions and defenders who have utterly altered our view of the world aren't "relevant" enough to be taken into the curve of history as a force in and of themselves strikes me as a DEEPLY reactionary and incurious one. So let us get one thing deeply, UNMISTAKABLY clear. Time Travel is real. Anyone who insists it isn't would have to explain a LOT of otherwise totally inexplicable things.

(Rip Hunter and his Time Masters, showing off their Time Sphere at the Cave Carson Scientific Expo. Corky is the young redhead in the middle)

Rip Hunter and his crew are time travelers. They travel through time, into the past and the future with the help of a miraculous machine. Like something out of a Jules Verne novel.

How does my field "handle" these claims? The first tool on any good scientist's rack. Occam's Razor.

Which is more likely. That these four are able to, on dozens of different occasions, all over the world, perfectly replicate lost artifacts to the point that even lifelong archeologists are unable to falsify them. Provide directions to seemingly lost ruins that no one could have possibly known about ahead of time, those ruins themselves HOLDING evidence of their presence sometimes millennia in the past, and consult on paleontological and historical discoveries that were unknown or even untheorized but just so happen to line up EXACTLY to their observations once studied? Or that they can time travel.

Once is suspicious. Perhaps they stumbled upon the ruin and are defacing it to cash in before unveiling it to the world. Maybe they DID find the artifact but not where they said they did. Maybe they happened upon a fossil that explains dinosaur anatomy to them in a totally new way. Once. Twice. Three times. Do you know how many papers have their names on them? Go ahead, if you still have access to your college library, go check. Only count the ones that are unique discoveries, I had to for a paper.

4527. As of when I graduated in 2018. Nearly 5000 historical, archeological or evolutionary discoveries that began because they showed up, submitted a report about what they saw and then led experts directly to the evidence.

There is not enough luck in the WORLD, to luck upon discipline redefining dinosaur skeletons 5000 times.

And they're the easiest example but there are more. How did the Seven Soldiers show up, out of the blue, 40+ years after their disappearance without any of these very hard living men having physically aged more than 5.

The Vigilante has no secret ID anymore. We know its the same guy, so I would like your history teacher to tell me, to my face, how world famous country western artist Greg Saunders vanished in 1947 and showed up decades later looking identical to the cover of his last album. The pictures are not hard to compare, he was selling out Madison Square Garden. Any other skeptics in the crowd are free to answer either of these questions, I am always in the running to be proven wrong.

We live in a new world, and those who cannot accept the reality of it will be doomed to ignorance. The fantastical is here. So let's start taking notes.

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Annotated Editions: the case of Jane Austen's Persuasion

The other day I made a post about my poor opinion of David Shepard's annotated editions of Jane Austen's novels, specially in terms of how much praise they get in the Austen fandom. That last qualifier is important, because while in general I do think they aren't great in a vacuum, it's specifically the place of honor they get in fandom that makes my judgement harsher; not because popular=bad, but because, well, if you claim to be excellent, you should be excellent.

So I'm gonna try here to compare three annotated editions: Shepard's, Norton Critical, and Oxford World's Classics.

Let's begin with the introductions/prefaces. Prefaces are complicated, because for the most part there is a tradition in this sort of literature to treat them as a free space for an essay, basically fulfilling the role of an afterword, instead of working as an introduction, as a summary of the historical, biographical, anthropological, artistic, etc, clues that will facilitate and enrich the comprehension of the text by the reader.

How goes Shepard about his introduction to Persuasion?

There's a brief note to the reader before the preface itself explaining what kind of notes he has added to the text; so far so good.

The preface itself is roughly divided in the following sections:

a biographical sketch of Jane Austen (5-10%)

comments on the spot Persuasion occupies popularity wise in the list of Austen novels, followed by, as Shepard's argument for why it is so;

An in-depth comparative analysis of the whole plot and main characters of the novel, with other Austen novels, pointing "pros" and "cons." (90-95%)

A comment on how he thinks Austen's style would have been moving forward, disagreeing with Virginia Woolf.

The first section is useful to contextualize the work, but the second is basically spoilers + Shepard's opinions on the novel and on the novel as compared to other Austen novels; this latter part is of little or none usefulness to the reader, and even its quality as an essay has several very weak, "sloppy" points. For example, the assertion that Persuasion, like the rest of Austen's novels is a romance; not only because many would disagree, but because a good introduction would include a discussion of the genre of the novel, and for an Austen novel the discussion and explanation of the nature and tensions of romance, bildungsroman and comedy of manners is VERY important. Another weak point is the blank assertion that Austen never wrote a scene between two men alone, which is false). Another notorious absence in this introduction is the historical setting of Persuasion; it is a rarity between Austen novels in how relevant the Napoleonic Wars are for the plot and how firmly they date the narrative. Tied to this are considerations of class, and the meaning of the navy as a symbol of meritocracy and Austen's special relation to it through her family... none of which are even mentioned in this preface.

How does the Norton Critical Edition by Patricia Meyer Spacks tackle the same part?

When did Austen write the novel and when was it published.

Brief summary of currents of opinion on tone and theme of the novel.

A discussion of traditional views on the "femininity" of Persuasion.

Critical evaluation of this in relation to contemporary analysis of the ethical and the political in Austen and the novel.

Her own interpretation of the novel as an ethical study on the concept of self-love.

A brief note on the choices made for the presentation of the final text.

I do think, even by this brief summary, one can uncontroversially say this is a better preface. While it still lacks the practicality of information that is mentioned rather than explained about the context of the novel, its use of spoilers is sparse and isolated rather than extensive. No supporting references to other novels are made (which I think is a good thing, because those involve a certain requirement of familiarity for the reader), and while the personal interpretation of the editor is presented, it is not an opinion on why Persuasion is popular, but a reference, a way for the reader to organize and approach the text of the novel.

Now on to Oxford World's Classics, introduction and notes by Deidre Shauna Lynch.

Napoleon and the briefest historical context he provides for the novel

An analysis of Persuasion's uniqueness in the Austen canon through the character of Anne

The permanence/change break through the changed roles of houses and the predominance of travel in comparison to previous novels

The role of memory and with this a tieback to continue elaborating on the historical context of the Napoleonic Wars in England and the cultural change it brought in the understanding of History

Persuasion as a sequel-like novel, for which a main interpretative key is that of History and Memory

A stronger attention on aging and disability

The interrelation between war history and social history in the novel, and the time frame of the events

More elaboration on the theme of past and present and personal history, with a contrast between Sir Walter's reading of the baronetage and Anne's reading of the newspapers

An interpretation of Persuasion as commentary on Sir Walter Scott's restoration plots; Wentworth and Mr. Elliot as two forms of return of the past.

An analysis of The ConversationTM between Anne and Harville still on the theme of personal history.

A comparison between the two endings of the novel

The assertion that the novel isn't melancholy and nostalgic in the end, but open to the future

This introduction is much more meandering and essay-like than the Norton one, and in that way much closer to Shepard's, in its use of spoilers and commentary on a text the reader is unfamiliar with. It's definitely not a GoodTM introduction as introduction, but it still includes mentions of important historical context and keys to reading the text; and its commentary provides references not only to other authors writing at the time, such as Scott and Wordsworth, but of more contemporary sources as well. There is some poliphony to it beyond a mention in passing to Virginia Woolf.

Besides that, it's also worth mentioning that the volume includes a brief biography of Austen and a chronology of her life elsewhere, a full note on the text editorial choices, a selection of bibliography for further reading, and three context appendixes on rank and social status, dancing, and Austen's relationship with the navy. As much as I'd think those appendixes should have taken the place of preface and the preface a place of afterword, the information to the reader has been included.

In terms of this kind of extra, Shepard has included a chronology of the novel, maps, and pictures in his notes, which are features the other editions don't have that might be of interest; but he has not provided good contexts like the Oxford edition does, either in the introduction or as appendixes; or pieces of solid, well researched essays and contextual texts like Norton does. Both Oxford and Norton include the cancelled chapters in an annex; he doesn't.

Someone would reasonably argue that Shepard chose to include all contextual information in the notes, and here is where personal opinion comes across the strongest: I think he does it that way, not for the reader's convenience, but for the padding of the notes and to inflate the value of his role as an editor. The addition of titles to the chapters of the novel, and the repetition of notes and information serve, in my opinion, the same end. In my opinion, there is a substantial difference between providing someone contextual information before they engage with something, and giving it as the something unfolds. Your first experience of a soccer match would be entirely different if someone told you the rules of the game, the stakes of the particular match, etc, before you get to the stadium than if they were to feed them to you during the match; and I think the former is a much more satisfying and rich experience.

So, notes!

Shepard's editions have lots and lots of notes. For example, for Chapter I of Persuasion he makes 65 notes, against 9 of Norton and 15 of Oxford. A first impression would say "oh, that's a really nice lot of info!" until you stop to think if this is really such a heavy text that it requires a note every 40 words on average. That's almost two notes on the extension of this paragraph alone. Let's dig a bit more to see where are the differences in selection.

Norton's, as you might have guessed now, tend to be editions heavy on the commentary side through essays and articles, and so notes are minimal and sparse. The notes on this chapter are on "baronetage", "patents", "creations", "Dugdale", "worsting", "chaise and four", "Tattersal's", "black ribbons", and "alineable". None of the notes go over a line. Oxford includes all these, and adds "High Sheriff", "exertions of loyalty", "duodecimo", "heir presumptive", "awful legacy", "dear daughter's sake", "every ball", and "his agent". Listing all the Shepard notes would be exhausting, so let's try some general classification of the notes that aren't the ones above:

3 geographical notes that amount to "this is a place in England, see map", which are easily understood in context.

14 glossary notes which usefulness/necessity is very variable. Awful and town are very reasonable notes; one wonders the necessity of notes on bloom and independence which are easily understood by context.

This theme of usefulness extends to the rest of the general notes. That stillborns were not uncommon during Jane Austen's era, or that Austen's fabricated entry of the baronetage actually does look like an entry of the baronetage is trivial and not necessary for the understanding of the text at all. That lady Russell is the widow of a knight is something that the text will state the following chapter, and that knights ranked below baronets will be heavily implied there too. The explanation of what an old country family is literally reads as redundant. Many notes are like this: information that is trivial, explained further on in the text or easily understood through context. This is specially the case of notes like the one saying that cousin marriage wasn't illegal, that people of high status spent a lot of money showing it off, and that rich people also went into debt.

There are useful notes, but when you trim them down to the actually pertinent and useful, there aren't many more than the ones included in the Oxford edition.

Now let me take a look at some of the notes shared between Shepard and Oxford:

On patents/creations:

Shepard:

The book listed families in order of receipt of the title. Thus Sir Walter would first see the earliest patents (i.e., grants conferring the baronetcy); there would be only a “limited remnant” of them because most early baronetcies had expired by this point due to the death of all possible heirs. Sir Walter could only know this by consulting another book such as Dugdale (see note 9) and comparing its list of all baronetcies with the entries in his baronetage, for the latter would show only existing titles—that he has done this indicates how obsessed he is with the matter. This carefully acquired knowledge arouses Sir Walter to admiration for himself as the holder of a surviving baronetcy. He would later come to the many pages showing the creations, or new titles, of the last (i.e., eighteenth) century and feel contempt for their relative newness (his came from 1660; see note 12).

Oxford:

limited remnant of the earliest patents: a title was also referred to as a patent: ‘a writ conferring some exclusive right or privilege’ (Johnson). Sir Walter regrets the passing away of the families whose titles date back to the seventeenth century. James I had created the title of baronet in 1611 and had used the financial support he obtained from the baronets he created to fund his army in Northern Ireland. endless creations of the last century: Sir Walter’s contempt for the low-born recipients of the new titles that the government had distributed would extend to those who, like the commander of the Fleet, Lord Nelson (the son of a mere country clergyman), had recently been rewarded with newly created peerages for their war service.

Oxford omits information that will be said explicitly later on in the text (that the Elliot baronetcy dates from 1660), and in its place includes a very relevant example of a new patent to show why Sir Walter looks with contempt upon new creations, rather than simply repeating what the text says.

High sheriff:

Shepard:

The High Sheriff (often simply called sheriff) was, after the Lord Lieutenant, the leading official in a county, responsible for the execution of the laws. He served for one year. The position, usually held by a member of the gentry, carried great prestige and would be a source of family pride.

Oxford:

the chief representative of the Crown in county government, the High Sheriff presided over parliamentary elections and the administration of justice. Holders of the office (which is now a mainly ceremonial one) were chosen annually from among the principal land-owners of the county.

While Shepard gives me something I can gleam from the text itself (the social importance of the title) Oxford tells me what his job entailed.

The note on duodecimo is an interesting case, where technically Shepard's information is more complete, but he spreads it in such a way as to pad his note count and extension. He simply notes that it is a small book, and refers to a note on books on chapter X:

“Large” could refer to thickness but is more likely to refer to length and width. At this time books came in widely varying sizes. The principal ones were folios, in which a standard sheet of paper was folded in two to make the pages, quartos, in which the paper was folded into quarters, octavos, in which the paper was folded into eight pieces, and duodecimos, in which the paper was folded into twelve pieces. Thus the length and width of a duodecimo would be one-sixth those of a folio. The type of book would influence its size. Popular books, especially novels, tended to come in smaller sizes, while serious, scholarly ones were usually larger. Thus the size of Charles Hayter’s books helps spur the Musgroves’ worries about excessive studying. They might be naturally inclined to such worries, not seeming bookish at all themselves.

What's the reference for this note specifically? "and having been found on the occasion by Mr. Musgrove with some large books before him, Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove were sure all could not be right, and talked, with grave faces, of his studying himself to death." Clearly the natural place of this note is on "duodecimo" in chapter I, but by this strategy Shepard not only manages to make two notes out of where there should be only one, but inserts notes visually in chapters in such a way as to make it appear like he has lots and lots of substantial, erudite explanations to make all the time. This strategy he repeats a lot through the text.

It's these habits of trickery, of padding and puffing up that I find intellectually dishonest, and rather inexcusable in a man who is an academic and must know better. I have also accused him of sloppiness. Perhaps I could have been more charitable and say that Shepard is a Historian by profession, and the things that touch on the literary and the philosophical, his references are much more scarce and lacking, not particularly well researched (in contrast with his historical notes). I mentioned how despite being relatively similar in tone and aim, the contrast between Shepard and Oxford showed that the Oxford annotator was familiar with literary authors in ways Shepard wasn't. This reflects in notes as well. For example:

Pinny

Shepard:

Charmouth is another coastal town (see note 8, for a description). Up Lyme sits atop the ascent next to Lyme, and offers views of the town and sea. Pinny is a spot a little west of Lyme. (For locations, see map.)

Oxford:

Many readers encountering this description of the scenery of Pinny, just west of Lyme, have detected an echo of the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s ‘Kubla Khan’ (composed 1798; published 1816). See lines 12-13: ‘But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted | Down the green hill athwart a cedar n cover. . . .’ The romance of the landscape is the product of a series of landslides, which have carried into Pinny Bay some of the cliff paths on which Austen must have walked during her stay in Lyme.

Marmion and The Lady of the Lake/Giaour and The Bride of Abydos

Shepard:

These are two long narrative poems by Walter Scott. In contrast to the above poets, Scott immediately achieved great popularity. The two poems cited here, his most widely read, were among the best sellers of the age—and in this age, poetry generally outsold novels, at least until Scott’s own novels appeared. Both poems are stories of love and war, set in sixteenth-century Scotland; a critical element of Romanticism was fascination with the past, especially the medieval past, and Scott was central to fostering this sentiment. Jane Austen mentions each of these poems in her letters. These are two narrative poems by Lord Byron, the other highly popular poet of the time. Both are tragic love stories set in the Middle East; fascination with foreign lands, especially ones regarded as highly exotic, was another feature of Romanticism.

Oxford:

The first two titles refer to long narrative poems, romances of medieval times, published by Sir Walter Scott in 1808 and 1810; the third and fourth refer to ‘Turkish tales’ published by rival poet Lord Byron in 1813. The poets’ representations of warrior heroes committing doughty deeds in picturesque settings probably contributed to their wartime popularity. Still, the notes that Byron appended to his poems adopt a more cynical view of their heroes’ sabre-rattling than do the poems themselves, in ways that distinguish their account of heroism from Persuasion’s, idealistic view of its chivalric war hero. Anne and Benwick prove themselves faithful observers of the literary scene when they attempt to adjudicate between Scott and Byron (an attempt they resume on p. 90). Similar efforts at a comparative evaluation of the decade’s two most commercially successful poets are pursued in William Hazlitt’s The Spirit of the Age (1825) and the anonymous A Discourse on the Comparative Merits of Scott and Byron (1824).

Our best moralists

Shepard:

These could refer to a wide array of works, especially from earlier years. The eighteenth century, whose spirit Jane Austen exudes in many respects, was characterized by a general preference for prose and an emphasis on greater rationalism than the Romantic period. Moral essays, frequently supported by observations on life and contemporary mores, were popular throughout the century. Collections of letters, often highly polished, also appeared. Finally, biography developed as a significant genre, and it, like much of the prose of the time, often had a moralizing tone, pointing out lessons and presenting examples of virtuous behavior.

The difficulty in following precepts of patience and resignation had been a popular theme of many writers, especially when discussing the influential philosophy of Stoicism, which counseled rational indifference to the ills of life. Similarly, as in all ages, many who preached virtue did not always live up to their preaching. One of the most influential prose moralists of the eighteenth century, and a favorite author of Jane Austen’s, Samuel Johnson, addresses this point in one of his essays (The Rambler, #14). He writes that “for many reasons a man writes much better than he lives.” But he argues, “Nothing is more unjust, however common, than to charge with hypocrisy him that expresses zeal for those virtues, which he neglects to practice; since he may be sincerely convinced of the advantages of conquering his passions, without having yet obtained the victory.” Rather, he claims that such a man should be commended for attempting to impart to others some of his own, possibly hard-earned, wisdom. From this perspective, Anne’s counsel to Captain Benwick, which does certainly come from her own extensive experience, would represent a valuable and benevolent service to him, whatever her own failings in achieving patience or self-control.

Oxford:

The texts Anne prescribes to Benwick would very probably include works by Samuel Johnson. Throughout the second half of the eighteenth century readers made an almost medicinal use of the essay series The Rambler (first published 1750-2), in which Johnson treats such topics as the dangers of solitude and the necessity of resignation in the face of loss. Johnson’s biographer James Boswell claimed of The Rambler that ‘In no writings whatever can be found . . . more that can brace and invigorate every manly and noble sentiment’ ( Life ofJohnson, ed. R. W. Chapman (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1983), 154).

Here I would note that the much longer two-notes reference of Shepard sits between vague and repetitive, and that in my opinion both sin by omission of Shaftesbury (Anthony Ashley Cooper).

Dark blue seas

Shepard:

Byron’s The Corsair, a work Jane Austen mentions reading in a letter (March 5, 1814), begins with the lines, “O’er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, / Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free.”

Oxford:

Benwick and Anne perhaps recall the second canto of Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (1812). Its description of the hero’s voyage from Greece and of the ‘little warlike world within’ (ii. 154) he enters when he boards the ship certainly glamorizes nautical life: ‘He that has sail’d upon the dark blue sea, | Has view’d at times, I ween, a full fair sight’ (ii. 145-6). They may also be remembering the lines that open The Corsair (1814), a description of the freedom that the poem’s pirates enjoy as outlaws: ‘O’er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, | Our thoughts as boundless and our souls as free’. In a letter of 1814 Austen sounds jaded about the Byronic heroes, such as Harold and Conrad the Corsair, who enthuse Captain Benwick: ‘I have read the Corsair, mended my petticoat, & have nothing else to do’ ( Letters , 257).

'eleven with its silver sounds’

Shepard:

The origin of this phrase, which seems, based on the quotation marks, to be from a particular text, has never been identified for certain. One commentator, Patricia Meyer Spacks, suggests the phrase may allude to a line in The Rape of the Lock by Alexander Pope, a poet Jane Austen certainly knew well: “And the pressed watch returned a silver sound.” The phrase does not represent a literal description of the operation of the clock, for the component parts of a clock were made of other metals than silver, usually brass or steel. Clocks were standard parts of a home, designed for elegant appearance as well as utility.

Oxford:

The literary allusion has not been traced. In 1921 Herbert Grierson conjectured that Austen was here misremembering the description of the coquette’s morning rituals that Alexander Pope gives in The Rape of the Lock (1712): ‘Thrice rung the Bell, the Slipper knock’d the Ground, | And the press’d Watch return’d a silver Sound’ (i. 17-18).

Note how here Shepard is crediting Meyer Spacks, but does not reference where (the Norton Critical Edition), whereas the Oxford annotation traces the conjecture to what appears to be its original proponent.

The pen has been in their hands

Shepard:

At this time there had been moves to improve the quality of women’s education, but it still was inferior to men’s, especially at the higher levels—no universities admitted women. As for books, while women had come to constitute a substantial portion of those who wrote novels, men dominated virtually all other fields of literary endeavor.

Oxford:

even as she has Anne object to examples from books, Austen echoes the precedents set by figures in the literary tradition who have previously commented on men’s monopoly of the written word. Anne sounds like the Wife of Bath in Geoffrey Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales , who is exasperated by male clerics’ representations of women, and, closer to Austen’s time, like Richard Steele’s character Arietta, who recounts the story of Inkle, the mercenary Englishman, and Yarico, the native woman of Jamaica whom Inkle betrays, so as to counter her male visitor’s trite examples of female inconstancy. Arietta observes, ‘You Men are Writers, and can represent us Women as Unbecoming as you please in your Works, while we are unable to return the Injury’ (.Spectator, 11 (13 Mar. 17 n)).

I'm not saying that necessarily Shepard's notes should be absolutely excellent in every single way and aspect in order for it to be a serviceable/good annotated edition; but all the things I have mentioned above make them appear to me thoroughly undeserving of being considered excellent, above the rest, or definitive.

[xclowniex]

So wait Lilith got her name a class of Mesopotamian demon? Isn’t that arguably cultural appropriation?

And If I recall the Noah’s arc story was kind of a ripoff of part of the epic of Gilgamesh, I think there where other parallels to

But yeah neopegans should at least try to change the names a bit or something, heck just make up your own gods at this point. That still doesn’t make it right to just use this Jewish character like that.

There is a difference between cultural appropriation, cultural appreciation and a natural mixing of cultures due to two or more groups living in a place.

Cultural appropriation is generally when a majority group adopts aspects of a minority groups culture and either benefits from it whilst the majority society is still ostracized for it or benefits from it without acknowledging its history.

For example non black people wearing braids benefit from braids as they're seen as cool or trendy, whilst black people still face racism for wearing braids. Or when a while ago this lady on tik tok made a Korean Cucumber dish and called it her Cucumber salad, and did not at all acknowledge that her recipie either was a Korean recipe or acknowledge that she was inspired by a Korean recipe, and instead claimed it was her invention.

Cultural appreciation is when you learn about a culture, and engage in it whilst acknowledging the history and rules within the culture. For example, Megan The Stallions recrnt music video where she featured a Japanese artist, filmed the music video in Japan with Japanese directors and actresses and actors, and used a Japanese tale as the plot for the video. She learnt about things, honored those within the culture, and made sure that they also benefitted from her use of it.

Natural mixing of cultures is when two or more groups coexist in a land and/or the minority culture assimilates to a degree to the majority culture. Jews existed in Mesopotamia for years after Judea was destroyed, and some where even there before then. Jews assimilated to a degree whilst living in Mesopotamia, and that brings with it, a level of mish mashing culture.

The idea of lilith had existed before jews went to Mesopotamia, lilith only became who she is known as in Judaism today due to a mixing of the Jewish idea of lilith and the Mesopotamian lilitu. It wasn't like lilith was purely taken from Mesopotamian beliefs. Hence not cultural appropriation.

Whilst I have no problem if neo pagans like the concept of lilith with how they have appropriated her, to call her lilith and to use literature and mythology from judaism is just wrong. There was never the mish mash of cultures which can happen naturally, it was some people who looked at a poem a jew wrote about her, misinterpreted the poem and went "mine now".

[dioslesbianwife]

oml i just Had a amazing idea

can u do a headcanon with the jofoes including Santana and pb dio and part 3 dio, how would they hold your hand during “fun” time? Could you include gif/picture to see how would they do it? Ty!

ooh sure, thank you for requesting and i hope u enjoy!! <3

(my image search history looks like kiras now)

Phantom Blood Dio – Possessive, Desperate, Hungry

He craves control but also reassurance. His childhood has made him desperate to own, so when he holds your hands, it’s possessive, tight, almost desperate.

Fingers locked together, firm grip, he’ll keep your hands pinned beside your head or pressed against his chest, making you feel his heartbeat (or lack thereof).

If he’s feeling particularly vulnerable, his hold will tremble slightly, a contradiction to his usual cocky demeanor. If you squeeze back, he’ll scoff but hold tighter.

If you try to take control and lace your fingers over his? A low hum and a reminder of who’s in charge. "You think you can lead? Hah. How adorable."

Santana – Dominant, Restraint

Santana’s hands are large, firm, and unyielding. Even when he’s simply holding you, you feel the sheer strength in his grip.

He’s not big on excessive movement- he prefers efficiency. So when he holds your hands, it's to restrain, control, and keep you exactly where he wants you.

He'd probably grab both wrists in one hand, keeping you pinned down with effortless strength. If he’s feeling generous, he’ll let you lace your fingers with his, but expect him to use that grip to pull your hands above your head again.

If you try to struggle? A lazy chuckle and a squeeze that reminds you just how strong he is.

Kars – Calculated, Teasing

Kars holds your hands like an artist sculpting a masterpiece- every movement is deliberate, every touch perfectly controlled.

He’ll slowly trail his fingers over yours first, savoring how easily he can make you shiver before lacing them together.

His grip varies, gentle when he wants to tease, crushing when he wants to remind you of his power.

He enjoys pinning both wrists above your head with a single hand, forcing you to acknowledge how easily he can overpower you.

If you reach for him on your own? Expect an amused hum, followed by his fingers brushing against your palm before he pulls your hand exactly where he wants it.

Esidisi – Passionate, Clingy, Almost Too Much

Esidisi holds your hands like he’s afraid you’ll disappear- his grip is tight, desperate, and warm, almost feverish.

He’s very physical, so he grabs at your wrists, your fingers, your arms, whatever he can reach. He likes feeling your pulse, your warmth, your existence beneath his own.

He’s the type to hold your hands down and then kiss every single fingertip, smirking at how your body reacts.

If you tease him and try to pull away? A chuckle, a firm yank, and you’re right back in his grasp.

Wamuu – Firm, Worshipful, Honorable

Wamuu treats holding hands as an extension of his respect and devotion. He’s firm but never too rough- unless he knows you want it.

His grip is large and encompassing, warm and steady. He likes pinning both of your hands to his chest, letting you feel the rhythmic strength of his heartbeat.

If he gets carried away, his grip will tighten instinctively, his instincts making him hold you still, as if preparing for battle.

If you squeeze his hand back, he’ll growl softly, bringing your palm to his lips. He sees it as a vow, a promise, a bond stronger than words.

Part 3 Dio – Commanding, Overwhelming

Dio does not just hold your hand, he claims it. Every touch is an assertion of power.

His hands are cool to the touch, his grip ironclad but graceful, making sure you know who owns you right now.

He prefers one hand wrapped around your wrist, controlling your movements entirely. If he allows fingers to intertwine, it’s only because he wants to make you feel utterly dependent on him.

If he’s in a rare indulgent mood, he’ll drag your hand down his chest, making you touch him exactly where he wants. But he never lets you control the pace.

He loves seeing how small your hands look against his own. Expect a smirk, a sharp squeeze, and a teasing, "So fragile… I could break you so easily, and yet you beg for more."

Kira – Restrained, Almost Reverent

Kira’s hands are precise, slow, and intentional. He takes his time exploring every inch of your palm, as if memorizing every vein, every curve, every flaw.

He enjoys locking fingers and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, savoring the contact.

His grip is deceptively gentle, but if you move too much, expect a sharp squeeze that makes it clear you won’t be leaving his grasp.

He prefers one hand pressed against yours while the other cups your face, his voice low as he murmurs, "Perfection should be appreciated properly. Don’t you agree?"

Diavolo – Overpowering, Territorial

Diavolo grabs your hands to restrain, control, and mark his dominance. He loves the feeling of your wrists in his grasp, knowing he has complete authority.

Expect your hands above your head, pinned to the bed, against the wall, anywhere that proves you belong to him.

He intertwines fingers only when he wants to make you feel safe- which is honestly rare, but intoxicating when it happens.

If you try to take control? Immediate retaliation. A sharp grip, a hushed growl, and a reminder that he is the one in control.

Enrico Pucci – Devoted, Unrelenting

Pucci holds your hands like a prayer- his fingers tight, interwoven, as if grounding himself in something holy.

He enjoys pressing his forehead to your knuckles, a quiet moment before he completely takes over.

He’ll lace your fingers together, pressing your joined hands against his chest, his voice low as he murmurs scripture or promises only he understands.

His grip can be gentle or painfully tight, depending on his emotions. If he’s in a more desperate mood, he might whisper your name like it’s a hymn.

Funny Valentine – Methodical, Protective

Valentine’s grip is strong, steady, and unwavering. 

He enjoys pressing your palm to his lips, a silent vow that you are his, in all worlds, across all dimensions.

He has a habit of keeping one hand wrapped around yours at all times, even when he’s already completely in control. It’s both an anchor and a warning.

Expect his gloved fingers trailing over your skin, a smirk forming as he asks, "Tell me… does this reality feel good to you?"

Diego Brando – Teasing, Rough, Wild

Diego grabs first, thinks later. His grip is strong, rough, and demanding, he wants control, but more than that, he wants you to fight for it.

He enjoys twisting your wrists behind your back, holding you in place as he smirks against your skin.

He’ll bite at your knuckles, eyes glinting with amusement when you shiver.

If you try to take control he’ll laugh and yank at your wrist, he reminds you that he’s the hunter, you’re the prey.

Tooru – Lazy, Calculated, Teasing

Tooru’s grip is casual but deliberate- as if he’s barely trying, yet you still can’t pull away.

He enjoys tracing patterns into your palm, smirking as you shiver.

He doesn’t just hold your hand he plays with it, toyingly, before tightening his grip just enough to remind you who’s in control.

"Mmm, you’re holding on so tight. Cute. Guess that means you don’t want me to stop, huh?"

If you grip onto him tightly he’ll go faster and tease you for your reactions.

[drewlyyours]

Okay, since we’re all playing MHM rn for the #cluecrewplaythru, I thought I would translate some of ~very~ cursive letters for anyone who may find them hard to read

The brown journal in the attic:

we dined with the Maupassants in a strange quarter of Shanghai known as the Enchanted Dragon. Mme. [short for Madame, the French equivalent of Mrs.] Maupassant showed me the lovely muslin [this fabric was quite fashionable in the 1800s and I believe rather expensive] that she has purchased earlier that week and we exchanged pleasantries about out travels in the Orient.

As the meal progressed, an elderly man approached me selling a curious puzzle box shaped like a pyramid.

There appears to be no hinges or any semblance if its mechanics from the outside and yet the solution to open the box was very intricate and involved. The artwork was magnificent and I became enchanted not only with the contraption but with the artistic genius of the kindly old man. My mind ran wild with the possibility of creating a hotel where rooms are puzzles full of traps and tricks, just like this pyramid box.

In my broken Mandarin, I asked about the old man’s employment situation and pressed him to return with me to engineer my next hotel. He became embarrassed, and my dining companions protested my forthcoming attitude.

Even in the far East where their traditions are so different from ours, a woman is still confined to remain passive and meek, regardless of her passion or intellect.

E. Valdez letter in the writing desk:

The Golden Gardenia

December 8th, 1902

Mr. George Williston[?], General Manager

The Victorian Hotel

Powell [?] and Clay Street

San Francisco

Dear Sir,

This letter shall serve as an introduction for my faithful employee, Wing Tang, who has been employed in my service as head chef for over ten years. It is with ^much regret that I must discharge him, and were it not for the retirement if my hotel establishment, I would still retain his services.

Sincerely,

E. Valdez

Proprietor, The Golden Gardenia

The letter in the staircase:

Diego,

I’ve waited so long for your return but have kept our treasure true. Here us the tool you’ll need to find it. May your rainbows never run out of luck.

The stars and moon will shine on you

As you begun your quest.

Move like a knight upon his horse

To quickly pass the test.

Take care to keep your path in check

Along the outside border,

So you may see the sun return

To claim its rightful order.

Rose’s letter to Hue:

Dear Hue,

I’m doing great! How are you? Yes, the rumors are true: I bought myself a Victorian mansion! it’s funny you should mention Abby; she’s actually the one who decided to go in on this venture with me. We’re still in the process of restoring the place. It’s a lot of fun, but also a lot of hard work. We’re beginning to get a little worried that we’ll fall behind schedule if we’re not careful. There’ve been several accidents lately that have interferred with our work.

when you visit, you can stay in the Chinese room! We’ve just bought some new furniture for the room. We’re just waiting for the wallpaper to dry before we move everything in. With all of the distractions and the schedule, by the time I finish writing this letter, I’m sure we will have completed the renovations altogether! I’ll try to get it into the mail before [she did not finish the letter]

Letters in the safe:

My dearest Elizabeth,

I could never sully that sweet name by calling you Lizzie. You shall evermore be Elizabeth, my Elizabeth: the sweet, dear woman who has honored me with her enchanting presence and grace.

Tonight, I ride on yet another perilous trip, but always to return to your beloved smile.

Until then, please accept this bouquet of gardenias, your favorites.

~ El Diablo

My dearest Elizabeth,

Only one soul on this great Earth knows the two secrets that circle my heart: my love for you and my secret identity. Know that my intentions are the purest in all respects. I am a modest man, and all of the wealth that I have acquired by devious means are put to the best uses – all given them to the poor, the misfortunate and the defenseless.

And so I am - a poor, misfortunate and defenseless man in the presence of your beauty. You have stolen my heart, dear Elizabeth, and all I ask is your hand in marriage to be mine.

Forever, Diego

[amongemeraldclouds]

The Slytherin Boys as Bridgerton Brothers

Ft. Theodore Nott, Mattheo Riddle, and Lorenzo Berkshire. Some also features x f!Reader as their equivalent partner.

© amongemeraldclouds I do not consent to having my work shared or reproduced elsewhere. Please do not claim as your own, tumblr is the only place I publish my written work.

✿ Masterlist | 808 words | Based on the Netflix show

Dearest Gentle Reader,

This author is pleased to present the dashing, young Slytherins as their Bridgerton counterpart should they ever grace the ton with their presence.

Theodore Nott as Anthony Bridgerton

𝄞 Theodore Nott as Anthony Bridgerton would be a walking contradiction, oscillating between his responsibilities as a viscount who had to grow up too soon and a rake who refuses to grow up.

𝄞 While attending school at Oxford, he never had to worry about grades as he’s naturally intelligent and can ace his classes with little effort. He’s also generally interested in learning so he never has to force himself to study.

𝄞 This allows him more time to goof off with his classmates so they would go on countless adventures and get into all sorts of trouble. Nothing that would stick of course, given their high status in society and the privilege that comes with it. 

𝄞 Given the early loss of his father, he becomes the viscount at a young age and assumes responsibility for their people and his family. It feeds into his serious and introverted side and he initially has strong opinions on Daphne’s suitors, thinking he knows what’s best for her.

𝄞 When he challenged Simon to duel, part of it would be to defend Daphne’s honor, but another part would be his subconscious tendency towards self-destruction.

𝄞 Secretly, he envies and resents his siblings for not having to bear the responsibilities he had to. Still, he cares for them and always tries his best.

𝄞 He prefers having sex with only one partner, but if he doesn’t have one, he will frequent brothels to get his urges satisfied. He never hesitates to do what he needs to do, both in business and his personal life.

𝄞 When he finally opens himself up to marriage, he initially has a strategic plan, refusing to be swept away by whimsical notions of love. All it ever brought was pain, no thank you.

𝄞 And then he met you. The woman he lost a horse race to, the woman who could best him at pall-mall and is not afraid to get her hands dirty, literally. The woman who could carry herself in a hunt. His match.

𝄞 He rarely fell in love, if at all. But when he fell, he fell utterly and hopelessly in love.

𝄞 In his words, “I have never met anyone like you. It is maddening. How much you consume my very being.” He was never one for moderation.

Mattheo Riddle as Benedict Bridgerton

₊✧ As an aspiring artist, Mattheo Riddle enjoys drawing and often has charcoal or ink stains on his hands, just like Benedict Bridgerton.

₊✧ He likes smoking in general and usually bonds with his sister, Eloise, through their regular smoking sessions on the swing. They confide their dreams and fears with each other.

₊✧ He is closest to Anthony, who often seeks his support as the second son.

₊✧ Once he dives into the art scene away from the prestige of the ton, behind doors closed and with curtains drawn, he is pleasantly surprised to discover the sensual side to these parties.

₊✧ He regularly attends these parties for sketching, booze, and orgies - everything his creative heart could desire.

₊✧ He is genuinely passionate about his art and hopes to get into art school of his own accord.

₊✧ He will not hesitate to turn to substances when he needs to relax, even if it means over consuming Colin’s calming tea to soothe his anxiety of getting into art school.

₊✧ He got so wasted that he found himself screaming in exultation from the windows of their quiet countryside home when he was accepted into art school. 

Lorenzo Berkshire as Colin Bridgerton

❥ Much like Colin Bridgerton, Lorenzo Berkshire is also a free spirit who enjoys traveling and sharing stories of his adventures.

❥ Life of the party, he loves joking around with others.

❥ He is loyal to and protective of his family, always ready to support his siblings, especially his older brothers when needed.

❥ However, when he sets his sights on a goal, he is headstrong and not afraid to pursue things on his own. Whether it’s courting Marina or making investments in an attempt to find his purpose.

❥ Given his penchant to see the good in others, he can sometimes come off as naive but is open to learning from his failures.

❥ He remains a romantic idealist, but often has his head in the clouds that he overlooks your affections and only sees you as a loyal friend.

❥ Everything changes when he gets closer with you and your confidence grows the more autonomy you have with choosing your own gowns, for example. He starts to consider you less like a friend and more romantically.

❥ He better get his hands and knees ready for all the groveling he will go through to win your affections after he denied and rejected you for so long.

✿ Masterlist <- read more

Author’s note:

✿ Wrote this while eagerly awaiting Bridgerton season 3. ✿ I will go absolutely feral when Benedict’s season arrives. That man is already so gorgeous, how are they going to give him a glow up? Losing my mind 🥵

[stuckinmymind22]

one piece character's top 5 taylor swift songs

in honor of the last weekend of the eras tour here’s what i think one piece characters would listen to overall their favorite is no body no crime tbfh (followed by fearless lol)

it’s my blog and i’ll use any excuse to mush my 2 favorite things together

ft: the straw hats (as i currently know them), ace, shanks, vivi, buggy

might add more characters when i meet them idk

the straw hats

luffy

casual listener, knows all the hits

our song

the fearless big three (fearless, you believe with me, love story) loves to sing them, doesn’t know the words

unapologetic ME! lover

zoro

was difficult bc he lowkey feels like the type of guy that isn’t really into music

likes blank space alright, geeze, stop asking him

lowkey fucks with reputation, will never say it but he does

false god

fw nbnc too

he’ll never say it but the smallest man who ever lived is really good

nami

she grew up on taylor, not a diehard swiftie but def knows most of her discography fav album: either speak now or midnights

should’ve said no girlie for sure

the way i loved you

better than revenge

vigilante shit

you’re on your own kid

bonus: who's afraid of little old me? WHAT IF HE'S WRITTEN MINE ON MY UPPER THIGH

usopp

definitely a taylor fan, borderline swiftie (was hard to cut his down) fav album: ...1989

fearless for sure, will sing it with luffy at any party

we are never ever getting back together

bad blood ft kendrick lamar (you forgive you forget but you never let it GO)

question…?

ONLY IN MY MIIIIIIIIIND

bonus: girl at home (sings it with luffy, who doesn't really know the words), look what you made me do, midnight rain

sanji

this one was the easiest by far lol, definitely a swiftie fav album: fearless

teardrops on my guitar (he thinks it’s relatable, but would never say it, can catch him listening to it sad after he found out a pretty girl was in a relationship)

you belong with me (see above)

enchanted (ofc enchanted is on here)

sad, beautiful, tragic (same reason as teardrops on my guitar)

believe only or not, i did something bad

chopper

tbh it was hard to pair his down, like this was over 10 songs long originally, but idk if he’d qualify as a swiftie

LOVES love story

wildest dreams (loves doing the aha-ah parts)

gorgeous

it's nice to have a friend

no body no crime

robin

enjoys her music but not into any artist enough to be qualified as a “fan” (also hard to cut down bc she would relate to a lot of songs tbfh) favorite album: ttpd, specifically the anthology

mary’s song (thinks it’s really cute)

haunted

clean

the archer

the prophecy hits really hard for her

franky

likes her more than he is willing to admit

picture to burn

mr perfectly fine (yes he knows the vault tracks, doesn't make him a swiftie 🙄)

22

style (thinks it’s about him)

florida!!! (the drums man)

ONE SLIP AND FALLING BACK INTO THE HEDGE MAZE

other characters

ace

not a swiftie, just really into music in general and some of that just happens to be taylor swift

cries listening to a place in this world

i can see you

i knew you were trouble

this is me trying (also cries)

WHAT A WAY TO DIE

bonus: i know places, no body no crime, cowboy like me, and the way i loved you

shanks

doesn’t talk about it but will admit he loves her if you ask fav album: too hard to chose, maybe folklore or speak now he's not sure

should’ve said no (will sing it when drunk enough when any word that reminds him of the song is spoken)

dear john

red

illicit affairs

no body no crime

bonus: wonderland, i think he knows, and maroon

vivi

yes she’s a swiftie, why do you ask? favorite album: red

you belong with me (for sure her fav)

began again

the lucky one

betty

would’ve could’ve should’ve

buggy

of course he’s a swiftie that’s not even a question fav album: lover

you’re not sorry

atwtmvtvftv (has the scarf AND the hat, you don’t get it like he gets it)

you need to calm down

claims folklore is a skip and only likes long story short on evermore

mastermind (thinks its relatable, practically written for him lol)

bonus: end game, cruel summer, down bad