#There's another character too who's Jamaican (

[marshmellowtea]

ngl i do hate this post and i think it's a byproduct of fandom's obnoxious lean toward this idea that in order to be a true fan of anything you have to be ~critical~ of it which is a sentiment that pisses me off immensely. that being said this is a little bit how i feel whenever i point out chris's conservative leaning as a result of his parents on this website ghlkajfd

[cheeseknives]

You think you're fluent in English until you encounter Rastafarian English

[famwhy]

Hobie Brown's Slang

Okay, here is a bit of criticism and advise for how to write Hobie Brown's (from Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse) speech patterns.

When I read fics on Hobie Brown, the slang that he uses is not AT ALL the type of slang he uses in the movie. Fics like to use stereotypical British slang like 'wanker' or 'gheezer' and while it is sometimes said, it's not used often by youth in the UK nowadays.

Instead, the type of slang he uses is called 'Road' slang or 'Roadman' slang. I believe it's a mixture of Jamaican and British terms (please do correct me if I'm wrong, I may be British myself but I don't know everything).

For example, in the movie, Hobie says 'man like Miles, my guy!' after Miles goes against the Canon event. He's basically hyping Miles up - the term 'man like' is often followed up by a name to (as said before) hype that person up and praise them, in a way.

Another example of him using road slang is when he calls Miles a 'youngen' - it's quite obvious what he means by it, he's basically calling him a kid. This term is usually used by people who are quite a bit older than the recipient. In fact, it was his use of this term that solidified my theory of him being quite a few years older than Miles and thus, of him not being as much of a potential love interest for Gwen as an older brother figure for her.

Now, how do you write road slang? By learning it through watching people who use it often and understanding the context.

Some real people you can watch and learn the speech patterns of Hobie Brown through include:

KSI (the youtuber)

Mo Gilligan (the comedian)

Babatunde Aléshé (also a comedian)

And a series on Netflix that I highly recommend you watch in order to really understand the way he talks (though the above examples are good ways too) is the series 'Top Boy'. Though, a fair warning that it's quite the violent series due to it being about UK gangs.

Please keep in mind that this post is NOT AT ALL made to attack writers or put them down for the way they write Hobie, it is only here to inform and teach you how to write his speech patterns properly because he 100% deserves the accurate representation.

Hobie Brown is an amazing character that made me so happy to see on screen because he actually seems like a guy I would know and be friends with in real life rather than a stereotypical depiction of a British person that you see often in media nowadays. I feel the same way about Pavitr and the way the movie didn't stereotypically depict South Asians.

To see both my ethnicity and nationality being accurately depicted in western media is just an amazing feeling that I wish to convey to you all.

Love, a very happy spiderman fan.

(Update: I now have a post where I write Hobie's speech patterns myself so you can also use that as an example if you wish. But again, the examples listed above are much better to learn from since my one post can only teach you so much.)

[or0ch1maru]

Hey CJ! Sorry to hear that you're not having the best day :( I hope it gets better! Or the very least, please do take care of yourself and maybe treat yourself to something nice for all your hardwork!💖

I've got a fun lil F,M,K scenario for you😊Who would you F,M,K? Grimmjow, Kenpachi and Obito?

AND Obito, Hidan, Toji? ^-^

And I've got some random lil questions to ask!

- Do you bake? If so, what are your favorite things to make? If not, what are your favorite baked goods?

- if you could choose to be in any anime verse, which one would you choose and why?

- What's a favorite dish you like from your culture?

- if you had all the money in the world, what would be the first big purchase you would make?

- what is your favorite holiday? Mine is Halloween!

- a random fact about literally anything?

I heard that you're taking requests for some angst! Can I request some headcanons or drabble about kakuzu or Hidan comforting you when you're crying? Or how would the akatsuki be after they broke up with their partner? Or how would they try and get back with their s/o after a breakup? This request was inspired by the JJK post you reblogged ngl😅😅

I'm sorry that this ask became long😅😅 but I hope your day gets better!! Hang in there!!💗💗💗

hiiii bbys! Thanks to everyone who sent in kind words. I’m doing better! <3 so let’s get into it🫵🏻

•

I PHYSICALLY cannot answer those f,m,k. It pains me too much🤣 I love them all equally and there’s no way hahah

•

I hate cooking, I have horrendous anxiety being in the kitchen if I’m making something more complicated than ramen or pasta. But in regards too my favorite baked goods, definitely cream puffs! Or fruit tarts. My go to’s Everytime! Gonna buy myself a fruit tart for my birthday next month🥺

Bleach and Naruto. The aesthetic itself are just pleasing and they have so many complex characters, and the views are gorgeous lol. I could go on but it��d be too much

So, I’m part Jamaican on my mums side and part Panamanian on my fathers. I only recently reconnected with him so I have yet to try anything. Now, in regards to my favorite meal, nothing beats my mums homemade curry.

I have no idea lmfao. I’m not one to want a huge fancy house or all these fancy cars. I’d rather just pay off my bills and quit my job. Play it day by day tbh

HALLOWEEN! Every year I go to universal Orlando for HHN. I’m always back before Halloween and I dress up and do my makeup to do haunts in our yard lol. That and scary movies every day of the month and just ugh🫶🏻best holiday

For my random fact, I’ll tell you something about myself. I’m 4’10. And I love platform shoes. I own some boots and platform sandals. I hope to expand my collection!

•

I personally think every member of the akatsuki would distance themselves for starters but they’d creep back into your life slowly, but differently so let’s get intoooooo it!🫵🏻

18+, mentions of stalking,makeup sex, coercion ideations, possessive behavior and akatsuki member being mean to reader but apologizing, pervy tobi

Slight au, mentions of cellphones, phone calls, texts, etc

Hidan:

-totally gonna be the one to put as much distance between you and him. Especially when he knows he was the one to fuck things up

-but he somehow always knows where you are, who you’re with, and what you’re doing

-if he hears you’re hanging out with another guy, no matter how much time has passed since the split, just know you’ll receive some drunk texts from him. Maybe him even showing up to your place

-he’d be mean at first, talking about how nobody could treat you better than him, or fuck you better than him

-would somehow end up on top of you, showing you how much he missed you by stuffing your cunt

-if you ever want to see him cry, just know this is how. He’d be whispering such filth into your ear, burying his face in your neck to hide his tears and hopefully stifle the way his voice cracks when he admits he’s sorry and how he can’t go on without you

Kakuzu:

-he’d be the silent ex. Would only pay attention if someone brings you up in conversation, mentioning what you’re doing or how you’ve been

-Kakuzu would check in on you every once in a while. He’s a grumpy old man who’s soft spot was for you and you only

-if he realized or you told him you’re not doing okay. He be over to your place within the hour to comfort you.

-if it ends with you two back together, he’d be the happiest man alive. Yet he wouldn’t voice it. Ever

-would send you money to spoil yourself, he’d always tell you it’s not to win you back but deep down he hopes it would change your mind. Isn’t the type to beg for you to come back. He wants you to come back to him only if YOU want too

Konan:

-such a sweetheart, she’d give you anything you want. If you tell her you two can stay friends, she’d be the best friend a person could ever ask for

-if you tell her you want space, she’s more than happy to give you as much space as you need

-if you tell her to fuck off and never speak to her again, as painful as that would be for her. She’d do it. She just wants you to be happy, even if that means without her

-is always super kind and respectful if you two run into each other in the village but wouldn’t go seeking you out without reason

-just like Hidan, always knows what you’ve been up too. Not because she’s following your every move, but sticks close by in case something happens to you (she hears updates from your friends because they adored her. Thought she was the best gf you’ve ever had)

Pain:

-I believe he’s similar to Kakuzu. Pain would distance himself for his own sanity. Knowing you’re off being happy without him, kills him

-only speaks to you if you reach out to him first. Wouldn’t even ask how you’re doing if you didn’t say something to him beforehand

-misses you dearly, but knows space is the best option for the two of you

-wouldn’t hesitate to make your new bf ‘disappear’ when he hears you’re seeing someone new. Hoping that you’ll eventually come running back to him if your new partners keep ghosting you suddenly

Itachi:

-is super respectful, as much as he’s hurting inside, the break up would never turn sour

-no fighting, screaming, or hurtful words. Gives you a kind smile every time he runs into you in the village. A hug or a shoulder/head pat only if you’re comfortable

-would remain your friend afterwards. Being very respectful towards your new partners if you start seeing anyone. Doesn’t go out of his way to be rude or cruel to either of you

-doesn’t hesitate to give you a shoulder to cry on if you need someone to talk too. Even if you’re venting about your new man

-makes sure you always have everything you may need or want and that you can always rely on him if something goes wrong

Kisame:

-gets over the split relatively quick. Is content to stay your friend, but if you decide to distance yourself completely. He’s fine with that as well

-it would take him a long time to delete pics and videos of the two of you just because you were the best thing to come into his life.

-when the time comes that he decides to delete everything out of his phone, he’ll keep a picture or two just for comfort

-looking at it when he has a bad day or to remind him that there’s still good in the world.

-would be nice to your new partner when introduced but would knit pick everything about him. Knowing that no one will treat you like he did

Deidara:

-you were his first real relationship and would be devastated about it. Dei would give you all the space in the world after the break up but the second you reach out to him, he wouldn’t hesitate to slowly make his way back into your life

-he would ask to hang out with you on the days you were free,

-would make up random excuses or reasons for popping by your place even if he had no reason to be in the village in the first place

-would leave you clay gifts on your windowsill once in a while, especially since you loved his art so much

-would leave sweet notes as well. Something like “miss you” or “have a good day” etc

Sasori:

-I feel like he wouldn’t truly register it at the beginning.

-would kinda just shrug shit off. Wouldn’t pay much mind to you for a while, weeks, maybe a few months afterwards

-he’s not rude, or nice, he’s neutral about things. He’d reminisce about the times you shared but it wouldn’t make him sad or depressed

- if you reached out, calling or texting him, he’d reply. Out of respect mostly. Sasori would ask how you’re doing and would be glad to know you’re doing good

Tobi:

-he’d be devastated. Come on, like look at him

-would distance himself from his comrades outside of missions, he’d put on a brave front in front of them when it came to work but if he’s alone. He’s breaking

-once he’s gotten the crying out of his system he would not hesitate to keep tabs on your every move.

-he may or may not even cause something just so you have an excuse to come running to him. Knowing he’d be the one to fix things and make things right

-would be subtle about his obsession with you. Would run into you in town on more than one occasion, using the same old excuse of “didn’t think I’d run into you here”

-keeps all the nudes and videos you sent him, using those to make himself cum. Or better yet, the home movies you two made

-he knows it’s wrong, but that’s not going to stop him. Bites down on his bottom lip to keep himself quiet as he strokes his length, listening to the way you’d sound as you took him to the hilt

-totally wouldn’t sneak into your place while you’re out to steal a pair of your panties, or a shirt of yours just to have your scent.

Zetsu:

-is more like Sasori tbh. At the start that is. Especially black Zetsu

-I think at the beginning it wouldn’t affect him much and if it did, it’s mostly white Zetsu. He’d let out a few tears, asking where and why you’ve run off. Leaving him behind

-while black Zetsu’s mean about it. Talking about how you’re a no good person to just up and leave him(he may or may not be delusional)

-he’s stalking you. Full blown

-even if he’s off on his own missions, he’d track you down and watch you for a while before going off. Acting as if nothing happened.

-would not speak to you which as weird as it sounds I feel is on par with him. Would maybe send a single text back if you messaged him but apart from that it’s as if he’s vanished completely. To you that is, you don’t know that he’s been inside your house, touching your belongings or following at a distance as you go on a date with to your new bae

-only to find a text from an unknown number of you and your bf at the cafe in town. It’s his way of showing you, you can’t fully get rid of him

•

I hope you loved this. Now I want some requests of crying Hidan x reader, perv tobi and stalker zetsu. Didn’t realize how hot those are lol

[way-of-love]

Mayor Que Usted (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x LatinaFemPregReader) (ONESHOT,MAYBE?)(R-RATED) (NO MINORS)

A stop in Puerto Rico can mean a lot of things, refuel, some R&R, family vacation or maybe just hiding from the Cuban drug lords. Simon Riley didn't think this tropic island was a good spot to stop before heading back t base in the U.S. but Price called the shots so there they were. But while watching the locals gather for Halloween and doing their little celebration he didn't expect to be consumed by such spice and fierceness from one little local woman who seemed to know his type just fine.

I hopped on the trend, I apologize

(UPDATE: The name of the female character is Amelia Cruz)

Old San Juan, Puerto Rico.

2018

After a drug bust in Cuba the 141 needed a place to lay low before heading back into the states for a reassignment or further instructions. The Cuban cartel were a relentless bunch in their pursuit for the men who blew up their entire operation and chased them all the way to Jamaican and Hatian waters before they stopped their effortless pursuit. Whatever information Price pried out of one of the major drug lords had to be why they kept chasing after them, whatever it was it was dangerous.

Price told the crew they had to lay low and separate throughout the island to keep a watchful eye on not only their hides but the people here as well. There could have been a few men who continued their pursuit for revenge.

Simon knew it would be no good to stop and lay low here on yet another tropical island where its people just wanted to live peacefully. But what else could they have done? What if they brought the fight here? It was a very slim possibility considering it it was national waters but it was never impossible. He knew that danger lurked in every corner. This whole island was big enough to hide both Simon, Price and company but it wasn't big enough to protect its people.

That's what kept Simon up every night. Always the ‘what if’s’. People on the island were kind, too kind and accepted him with open arms even even with the mask. He liked that, they didn't ask questions. They probably thought he just had a nasty face or maybe was really enjoying the month of October getting ready for Halloween. It didn't matter to him the reasoning as long as he blended in like the tourists that seemed to be scattered around the entire area he stayed in then laying low would be no problem.

And it wouldn't have been a problem if he didn't meet her.

Simon usually didn't intervene in any festivities or parties even as a teen because there was no need for it. Nor did he have the privilege to attend one while tending to his military duties but tonight while he resided in the shadows he found himself nearing a small little street festival. Music was blaring, laughter filled the alley that he watched from and lights... goodness the lights were so bright a flash grenade would be a better comparison to it.

It amazed him how bright and merry the people on the island were, as if they had no care in the world for anything. Not even the danger he thought the 141 may have brought upon them. Simon hoped their happiness lasted.

There was a grand stage with barriers placed on the side to keep control of the crowd, a DJ playing on the stage, lights floating around the stone road where people mingled.

Puerto Rico's people were laughing and dancing around the blocked street dressed in costumes from head to toe, well most of the adults anyways. Some dressed as devils, nurses, fictional killers so he fit right in with his mask. He examined the mass of bodies mash together dancing with one another in time with the beat of the music, music was meant to be enjoyed yes but this obscene touching and grinding made him wince a bit. Did they always have to do that?

His gaze soon landed on one particular woman who stood out amongst the rest, wearing a deep red sundress that hugged every ounce of her body and complimented it very well. Many things popped up in his head that kept his gaze on her. First, she wasn't wearing a costume. Second, she was dancing by herself by the mouth of the alleyway where he was currently hidden in. Thirdly, her movements were like fluid water. Her hips swung side to side and her hands slid up her thighs, her hips making her dress lift up higher upon her slender legs. Was she aware he was here?

Simon wasn't about to make his presence known. He didn't want to scare her or break her concentration because it was mesmerizing for him, as thought she were trying to seduce him with just the movements of her body.

Soon, her friends showed up, they chatted a bit and began to dance altogether. And again Simon watched the brunette in the red sundress sink into that headspace and move her arms, her hips, her waist and move with her friend molding against her back. What would happen if he took his mask off, even just for the night and danced with her, just to see what it would be like?

He knew he couldn't. He was a dangerous man who did dangerous things and who knew if someone thought of him as suspicious and sought him out. Price would then be pissed. And Simon would have lost his touch.

Instead the ghost silently stood from where he sat upon the crate and dusted himself off ready to go back to the safe house by the pub or bar some would call it and have a whiskey before turning in for the night, try to at least. But he felt the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand and even with the mask on he felt it. Quickly he turned around and came face to face with the girl he was watching not even a few seconds prior.

She stared at him with a lovely little smile on her red stained lips, hands on either side of the alley way walls, yes it was small enough to fit one person down it, and her bangs covered her dark eyes. He didn't move, something in him felt caught in her gaze and prevented him from moving.

Fuckin' hell Simon.

The tall man stood across the dancer who she's been keeping an eye on ever since he sat in the alleyway most kids ran through during the day. Tilting her head she slowly approached the strange masked man who seemed to enjoy watching her dance and as she approached the man she spoke.

"Hablas espanol?"

Simon closed his eyes briefly. Even her voice sounded seductive. But he didn't respond.

She noticed the lack of response but didn't mind it one bit. When she was but a foot away from him she smiled sweetly at him.

"So, English it is then?"

He was supposed to be laying low, there was no mingling with the locals if he could help it. Groceries, markets and even getting a drink were an exception. Not for conversation.

"You know, starring at a lady is kinda creepy. If you wanted to dance all you had to do was ask," The woman bit her bottom plump lip and looked directly up into the eyes of soldier who had killed countless of men and who had done unimaginable things, in the eyes with no fear. She didn't know who he was nor will she ever know. One night should be fine, right?

"I can't be in the light."

Was that the best thing he could say? Bloody Jesus he was out of practice trying to talk to a woman. Before he could fix himself and say something else he was blessed to hear her soft giggle over the music down the alley.

"Well, if you can't fully be in the light I'll bring some to you. Everyone deserves a little bit of light to enjoy, no?"

After that, no more words were spoken. She reached out palms up and Simon with hesitance placed his hands in hers and their little dance begun.

The woman showed him how to step and where to step when a salsa song came on. He wasn't the best but he did learn fast. She liked that. A few more songs came the same way until one came that made her gasp and squeal almost immediately. This scared Simon into thinking there was danger and quickly looked up and down the alleyway with a glare of a killer, sensing no danger he looked down at the female already swaying to the annoying beat of the music. What did the locals call it? Reggae? Reggaetón.

It was too modern for Simons taste but he was glad to watch her dance to it. This time what he was hoping for did happen. She molded herself against his front, bending a bit at the waist and pressed her full rear against his groin moving like a true dancer. He starred down at it wide eyed not sure what to do or where to put his hands but he remembered what her girl friends did when they were placed in this position.

Simon Riley placed his hands on her hips and pressed himself back into her, moving his own hips as best as he could without feeling embarrassed or even trying too hard but it was futile. He felt a tad bit embarrassed.

Nevertheless she continued to show him just how much fun just the two of them and music, can have. And deep down inside his dark heart he was fully enjoying himself, well up to the point where she straightened out and began that movement of sliding her hands up her thighs and took the hem of her sundress up, pulling out from under his hands.

If she did it on purpose or not didn't matter because he got an eyeful of the black thing string on her hips that his thumb was barley a hair close to. What was she trying to do? Whatever it was he took it as permission. He slid his hands further up her hip and hooked his thumbs under the soft dark material, gently tugging it down.

To say he wouldn't dare grow an erection here would be a complete and utter lie. He was carrying a hard on the whole time she pressed herself against him, he just maneuvered himself enough so she wouldn't feel it but he let her. This time he showed her just how much he was enjoying this little dance of hers.

She didn't stop when she felt the hard long mold of his print against her semi bare rump because she wanted to feel it. She watched him and he watched her, the meant he was interested just like she was. So, why not approach him if he was too chicken to do something. Women can take initiative too. The woman turned her head peering at him from over her shoulder with a smirk on her painted lips. Now Simon could see her eyes, they were dark, like chocolate.

He wasn't a fan of sweets but he'd enjoy hers.

And he could feel the heat practically pouring out from her pores. The way she was suggesting to continue with her hips, he knew all too well. She wanted to be fucked and not just a practical fuck in a motel room but a fuck that that Simon Riley could give right now. They didn't know each others names, occupations or even if they'd see each other again. What mattered was the here and now.

The tall British man had her that night. Bent over the large wooden crate he sat on to watch her dance in the street in her red dress. Now she was moaning like a bitch in heat with her red dress bunched up at her waist with his cock dipping into the welcoming depths of her cunt. He rocked back and forth with vigor, with malice. How dare she seduce him when he was just trying to mind his own business? How dare she approach him and make him sin like this?

Yet, Simon was groaning above her making sure he pounded her cervix. He wanted her to remember this coupling for as long as she lived. Her heels were discarded to the side and she was on her tippy toes, legs spread receiving him so very well. Simon couldn't remember the last time a woman's cunt fit him so well like hers, it was like...it was like it was made to fit him and only him.

The woman in the red dress was dancing no longer. The music may have changed and the people may have begun to head home but she would still be here hidden by the darkness of the buildings on each side of the two beings shielding her from the gazes of people who wondered what that sound was. Simon made sure to cover her mouth if he believed she was being too loud and he was glad he did because she came with shriek into his palm after just a few minutes.

No ones ever indulge in her like this nor have they ever took control in fucking her like a wild dog before. She was always the one to do things for her boyfriends, suck them, ride them, tell them what she wanted done, she was tired of being like that. Being the leading hand in sex because the other person was just too lazy and wanted a quick nut. This man though; was the complete opposite of that.

He took her without hesitation. Didn't bother to ask her of her wants and needs he just somehow knew. He made sure she was comfortable though, made sure she felt every caress, every tug, nip, slap, and flick of him on her skin.

Simon Riley wasn't going to let her go. Not until he had his fill.

-------

The woman stirred awake finding herself starring at the open window, the curtains flowing about with the breeze that entered the dim lit room. So the sun wasn't fully up, good more time to sleep. Before she could close her eyes again she heard shuffling and turned her head to see the British man who rocked her world sitting on the side of her bed getting dressed. His back was all scarred, with old and new ones she made just a few hours ago. His skin was pale compared to her tanned one, looked like he'd be a cherry before he ever tanned. His head was...bare. Simon wasn't wearing his mask.

Well, it was completely dark when they got to her tiny little home a few blocks where his safe house was so it made it easier to keep his face secret while leaving his marks on her skin. Now, it was time to go. He received a call from Price while the woman he laid with slept, on a burner about finally leaving the island in the early hours of the morning.

The woman he spent the whole night with seemed to stretch behind him making a soft pleased sound as she did so. The bed dipped a bit behind him and her arms wrapped lazily around his middle while she rested the side of her head against his back.

As mind blowing as the sex was he couldn't get attached. It was dangerous to drag one good thing into his hectic and bloody lifestyle he lived.

"Simon, stay with me a little bit longer. I'll make you some really good coffee y yo te cocino," Her voice was laced with sleep, hoarse because of her moans and screams the night prior but she still managed to make him shudder in the heat.

There was nothing more that he wanted than to stay and do just that. He was a dangerous man. He couldn't be in the light, because he'd consume it. The ghost shook her off as gently as he could and stood while pulling the mask over his head covering his face again. Walking forward towards a chair she had in the corner of her small room, picked up his shirt and dared to look back at her body covered with a sheet on her bed. Her hair was all askew and she looked more inviting than the night before, it stirred his loins.

His eyes trailed back to her face, her expression was...sad, confused even. She should've know it was a one time thing. He wasn't even native to the island nor was he a tourist with the way he held himself and she knew that. She knew he was dangerous and yet she pursued him anyways.

"It was fun, but that's all it was," He was cold, distant and hardened his emotions. It was for one night only, it wasn't night anymore.

So, he was going to leave her just tike that? After they shared an amazing night? She stood up in bed with her hand griping the sheet to her chest hoping it hid her nakedness'.

"No, no you can't just leave like that Simon, you said you were going to be here for a few more days. Por favor," The woman that was in a red dress was just about to stand from her bed and drag him right back, whatever means necessary even if she had to yell and scream.

"I told you I probably would be here for a few more days, nothing was permanent girl," Now that fully roused her out of her honeymoon like state. It was like a bucket of iced water was poured all over her. Where was his attitude coming from? And girl? He knew her name so why wasn't he saying it?

He slipped his shirt on over his head and made a beeline to her bedroom door, she scrambled out of her bed with her legs feeling like jelly going after him barley catching herself when she tripped. She would never do this for just any man, never would she do this for any man but Simon was different or so she thought.

A memory came to mind of her own mother scrambling after her father when she was only a child. Her mother ran after the man in desperate pleas to not leave and abandon their family, they had little but her mother was so caring. Her father on the other hand was evil.

"Simon! Stop pendejo!" She yelled at him hoping he'd stop but he kept going, moving through the kitchen, the living room before making it to the front door. The woman he spent the night with couldn't keep up with how her legs gave up and made her fall down half way to the door. Her chest ached watching him continue on without a care for her or how she felt.

That night was the only night she's ever felt complete, she felt alive for the first time with anyone and it had to be with this stranger who you barley knew. And that feeling was walking right out of her home.

Simon looked back at her seeing her on the floor with only a sheet to cover her nakedness tugged at his chest. Only for a second though.

"Take care of yourself, love."

And that was the last time the woman in the red dress saw Simon, the tall British man who wore the skull painted mask.

------------------------------------------

It didn't take long for Simon to forget about that night in Puerto Rico, but it always came back to haunt him in his dreams. His mind played movies of the time they've spent together, the hour long conversation before he went at it with her again and again. Colors, foods, places he's been and places she wanted to go to, he probably knew more about her in that hour than any other man could in months. He felt more like a normal man with you for those few hours than he did commanding a small squad. And when darkness clouded his mind your words came to him.

"...Everyone deserves a little light, to enjoy, no?"

It brought him out from time to time.

Recently, the 141 hired a new medic or at base doctor who Laswell says she's the best of the new generation. Finished school in less than eight years and performed eleven successful surgeries within that time frame. Some minor and some major. It was impressive but the information was all the same to Ghost. New doctor, same shit. He didn't even catch her name, didn't bother for it.

Currently, the infamous Ghost sat on a stool in the med bay while holding a cloth to his upper arm trying to stop the blood from making anymore of a mess. Apparently Johnny thought it would be funny to toss a piece of useless metal from the top of the weapons wrack, why was it there? Who knows but he certainly gave Johnny an ear full before he was forced to come here to get it checked out.

The said doctor had her back turned to him when he entered and sat on the tall stool with a leg stretched out. She looked like she was doing something important so he just grunted while she told him to have a seat. Her voice sounded oddly familiar and Ghost couldn't put a face to it.

"Mr. Ghost, no, Simon?" The small looking woman with her dark hair held up with a clip tilted her head reading what little she could from his medical file. There was absolutely nothing here. No medical history, no medication history, surgeries, nothing. It was as if he were a ghost. With a soft sigh she full turned but never lifted her head.

"That's funny, I knew a Simon once. Spelled the same way,"

Simons eyes widened just a fraction when he saw those red painted lips and that golden tanned skin, she was here. It couldn't be. She was supposed to be back in the island living her life in peace. Not here tending to him and his team! Did Price do this? Laswell? No, they didn't know about his escapade with the young doctor here all those years ago. He made sure not to speak wind of it to anyone.

Anger bubbled up inside of him when the shock left him. Was she doing this on purpose? Did he know who he was?

The tall man stood when she was only a foot or more away and she finally looked up from the manila folder, craning her neck her eyes widened seeing the familiar tattooed arm and skull mask covering the face of the mystery man she spent the night with all those years ago.

The folder slipped from her hands and onto the floor, papers scattering about as she starred at him, as if seeing a ghost. And he starred down at her with stone cold glaring eyes of a man who did not want to see her, again.

So, this was the Simon that she'd dream about from time to time? Tall, dangerous, cold and still as mysterious as the day she met him. It couldn't be him. The Simon she met had kinder curious eyes, yes he was cold but that night he made her melt with just a stare.

Quickly she averted her gaze to the side and cleared her throat. No, it really couldn't be...but the tattoo was unmistakable and if not that the mask was a dead giveaway.

Closing her eyes she took a deep breath feigning innocence. Turning back to look at him she smiled sweetly," Dios mio, I'm just clumsy today I'm sorry about that. Why don't you have a seat and tell me whats going on,"

So she was going down this road huh? Simon took in a breath and sat back down on the stool keeping his cold unwavering stare on her as she crouched to collect the folder and papers that scattered about. He could have helped her but the less he interacted with her the better. He left her back in Puerto Rico for a reason and this was not that reason.

As she collected her paper work she stood straight up and turned back to her small little desk where a few little picture frames decorated the surface along with some medical instruments. She took one frame in particular and tried to quickly put it face down blocking his view with her body. She was living her life perfectly fine without him, they both were and she would be damned if he found out about her. That early morning he decided not to say a single thing that could help her find him, only his voice and name, it was all she had.

Ghost looked at her and saw her movements. She was trying to hide something and he already was on it. He remained seated examining her backside. She still looked the same, petite, small but she looked fuller now. Hips wider, legs and arms a bit thicker too. It seemed she put on a healthy few pounds while away on the island, or maybe it was due to age? Whichever it was she looked absolutely stunning even with the white lab coat on.

"Sargent found a piece of shrapnel or scrap metal, tossed it back and it nicked my arm," Cold, to the point.

With a small nod she quickly slipped on some black latex free gloves and grabbed what she needed to clean his little nick.

The next few minutes were excruciating between the two of them. The silence felt heavy in the air and the poor doctor felt so burdened by it she felt like she had to say something but refused.

Pretend not to know him. She had to pretend she was just patching up any soldier from the 141 but her body kept reminding her and even her mind reminded her that he wasn't just any soldier. He was of high rank, under Price and that had to stand for something.

Ghost, shifted a bit when she applied pressure on the now cleaned gash which was in fact not a nick, it needed to be stitched shut so she was preparing for that.

"Why are you here?" His question was so unexpected the doctor paused right before she pierced his tattooed skin with the needle and thread.

There were so many reason as to why but it depended on which reason he wanted to hear. Releasing a heavy sigh she tilted her head keeping her gaze on the suture.

"You knew I went to college to become a doctor. Turns out I was very good at it. I stitched nerves together and helped those wounded soldiers regain feeling back to their separated limbs. Laswell thought I'd make a good doctor here for the base or 141 and company, the money was good, the housing was and the education is phenomenal too."

She was still young so education must've have been her second reason as to why she decided to come here but there was still one question in his mind.

"Who's the girl?" The one question that she dreaded. She suppose she wasn't as fast as she thought when she tried to hide it. Simon always looked around his surroundings so her desk was also apart of the surrounding and noticed a small girl no older than three or four smiling with two front teeth missing. Eyes blue, green or hazel, hair almost brown or red. Didn't look like it was her daughter now that he thought about it but again, it was just a quick look.

"She's my niece."

"You have no siblings."

"Step-niece then."

"That's not a thing."

She huffed giving him a look of 'you are unbelievable'. Why did it matter to him who the girl is? When she went looking for him when she found out she was going to be a mother he was nowhere to be found like a ghost. She suffered through out university with morning sickness, cravings of foods she didn't think were even healthy and doctor appointments where only her mother attended with her.

Even after giving birth she didn't give up her dream of becoming a good doctor or surgeon to help people on the island. But when the opportunity arose for her to live in the U.S. she didn't hesitate to take it. And now here she was with the father of her daughter who currently was at a daycare right across the road from the base that Laswell told her it was safe.

Now she wasn't too sure with Simon around.

"Why do you want to know so badly?" She finished stitching up his gash and was currently placed a gaze on his arm and securing it.

Why did he want to know? Was there some hope that he was still somehow connected to this woman he found himself thinking about more than often recently? No, it couldn't be they were careful that night, they...

Then it dawned to the ghost. Slowly he stood up pushing her to the side and marched straight to the faced down picture. There's no possible way that the little girl in this picture could be his.

The doctor already knew where he was going and tired to stop him from reaching her desk by puling on his arm and tried with all her might to stop him but he was too strong and made it to her desk.

The first few rounds, no all of them were unprotected. He assumed she was either on the pill or even doing something to prevent pregnancy while she was out and about dancing away. Who wouldn't with a body like hers? He should've known yet they never talked about it. Not once did the topic of protection come up.

He picked up the frame and examined the child who smiled so happily without a care in the world similar to the woman who birthed her. While he starred at the picture the mother of said child was cursing at him in her native tongue and snatched the frame from him holding it against her chest.

"She's not even yours!" She exclaimed placing the photo down on top of the file cabinet glaring up into the cold eyes of the ghost who leaned forward placing his hand over hers the kept the photo down.

"You're lyin' again love," He said it low and so harsh to her and she flinched. It didn't matter if she was lying or not because her daughter will never know who her father was and her father will never ever get a chance to see her.

"Fuck you, pendejo," She spat out with so much venom Simon was ready to tear his mask off and devour her mouth and swallow every bit of venom she had in the tank. That's the least thing he deserved. He was close, his gloved hand went up her covered arm, her shoulder then up her neck.

Simon cupped her cheek while his other arm wrapped around her waist, she hesitated and placed a hand on his forearm ready to push it off if he said something or did something really outta pocket. Though she couldn't lie, she missed how close he could get without really trying.

Even if it was one night, she could never forget him.

"She's ours isn't she Amilia?"

She had to close her eyes because the intensity behind his were too much. This answer could either make or break their future relationship if there ever would be one. But deep down she knew that if she were to say 'yes' he'd step in or at least try to.

Simon knew it was his fault for leaving so suddenly but it wasn't anyone's fault he wasn't there or that she didn't tell him. The universe made it so that they could meet again under these circumstances. A deadly father and a bright mother. What a strange combination.

"Yes, Simon. She's... ours."

--------

PART 2

A/N

Ya' liked what I did there huh? CLIFFHANGER!

Please leave a comment, reblog and like so I may be MOTIVATED to press forward with more writing and no think I SUCK!

Thank you so much! MUAH!

[bubblin-trouble]

{OOC} -- The rules + general info! <3

13 + / semi. selective / OCs and crossover muses welcome / TWST yuusona <3

Also, follows come from @pangirlpanic !

1 ~ No NSFW asks, please - but suggestive is fine.

2 ~ Calypso is my Yuusona, please be respectful!

3 ~ Owner of this blog (Hi, name's Lottie :3) will pop in sometimes, so please be nice! Also, mod is taken! (basically no flirting outside of RP context)

4 ~ (Not a rule, just some backstory stuff/info about her)

Calypso Xaymaca is originally from Jamaica (yes i'm aware Jamaica doesn't exist there ROLL WITH ME), and came from a big family with nine siblings. She remembers she has a twin brother, but that's about it. She came from a pretty wealthly family, people who could be considered royalty on her island.

She loves all animals, singing and listening to music, and being as much of a menace as she can be around NRC campus without getting in too much trouble. She is also 6'0! She stands on business and does not take disrespect from anyone. As she says, her hands are rated E for everyone. (Literally. She WILL fight a housewarden.)

Her favorite season is either fall or winter, mostly because of the holidays! Her favorites are Christmas and Boxing Day, or Offering Day. Weather doesn't change much where she's from, so she's used to balmy, hot weather pretty much year round, with a few exceptions.

She does have her favorites, but she won't tell who, obviously. It's for everyone to find out when she's ready.

She cannot live without having a playlist for every mood. It's a must.

Her birthday is March 25th, she's an Aries. :)

She's surprisingly good at hand to hand combat, but whenever she's asked about it, she just shrugs and says, "Eh. Notin' to worry 'bout." (Her Jamaican Patwah/Patois slips through sometimes, so here's a website that can help translate!) She can be a bit rude/sarcastic to some people, but most of the time it's never with ill intention. Most of the time.

She has a preference for spicy food, and will try anything once! She is basically immune to spice, though, since back at home she had something spicy with almost every meal.

She doesn't care for Crowley much and finds him a bit annoying, but puts up with/tolerates him nonetheless.

She's the Ramshackle Dorm Housewarden (in her eyes, it's not official. Let her be delusional/aff)

Takes care of her appearance, and often does her hair/makeup, but she will get down and dirty if need be. She is not above straightening someone out if they're getting out of line.

Calypso is from Ocho Rios, Jamaica! She sometimes talks using her Jamaican Patois to confuse people because she finds it funny, but she mainly uses regular English with a slight accent.

Purple text is Calypso speaking!

Default text is me/the mod speaking! :)

5 ~ Please be nice to me OOC. Sometimes my replies are slow, because I do have a life outside of RP. Being mean in RP is cool, as long as it goes with the thread/the character.

6 ~ Communication is key!! If an RP thread isn't working for you/you want to drop it (given you provide me a reason) DM me and let me know! I'm actually nice I swear ( T . T )

7 ~ Just be respectful/nice in general on here. No hate of any kind will be tolerated.

8 ~ I can basically do any type of RP, just no asterisks. Please :) (Example: *throws*, *gasps*, *laughs*, etc.)

9 ~ Minors can interact with this blog, as there will be no NSFW present. Suggestive humor at most, but even then, it will be mild. But, I do ask that if you are under the age of 17, you shy away from my main. Please and thank you :)

Also, this is a multi-ship blog. Meaning - Calypso has no set S/O or age, and it can change depending upon who she's being shipped with.

Like for a starter!

Discord : char_dahlia (in case you would like to contact me by another means instead of tumblr)

That’s everything! We all irie? Good, that’s what I like to hear. Let’s get this party started!

[neechees]

Hi there, I was wondering your thoughts on artists who leave the race of their characters "up to interpretation" or purposefully remain obtuse so they can ride both sides of the fence? example, a white artist drawing a white character with medium-dark skin and when POC asked to clarify their race so they could be respectful when drawing, the creator says "all i can say is they're nonwhite". Do you think that is dubious? As if they want props for being diverse without the responsibility that comes with having a nonwhite character?

(and i know it sounds confusing about "white character" but what i mean is the character can very easily be interpreted as white by the fandom and gain popularity, while another side could assume they're X race based on their skin, so creator benefits that way too instead of clarifying)

Hey!! I know what you're getting at. I think it can potentially depend on who's doing it and what the character is for?

Like if it's just an artist drawing their OC, and maybe they don't have all the backstory or character details worked out yet, or if they literally just wanted to do some character design practice so therefore they don't really have a full backstory in mind), and if they responded with something like your example when asked what the characters' ethnicity is, then it's less dubious. That could potentially be a case of not necessarily trying to benefit off of both sides.

But if it's an artist doing something like a webcomic, or something similar, then knowing a characters' ethnicity is more important. Them refusing to specify could get into the territory of homognizing multiple cultures and reinforce the idea that nonwhite cultures are all the same. Even if they specified something like "They Native American" or "they're Black" or "they're Asian" it's STILL doing this: like, if they're Native, then are the First Nations Canadian, Indigenous Mexican, Native from the Caribbean, are they Indigenous and Brazilian? What tribe(s) are they? Are they Inuk, Mixtec, Taino, Kayapo, or another tribe? If they're Black, are they Jamaican Canadian, Khoisan, Gullah Geechee, Somali-British, Afro Russian, or Aboriginal Australian? If they're Asian, are they Telugu, Armenian, Han Chinese, Bhutanese, or Kinh Vietnamese? All of these cultures can be VERY different from each other (even if, depending on geography and history, there could be overlap & similarities), so these distinctions are important. I think that IS dubious, if they do this.

White artists already get WAY more attention and praise for having nonwhite OC's in their art than actual artists of color, so when they do this it gets REAL sketchy real fast, and kind of feels like they know what they're doing, and they do it for praise. Like if they don't put in the effort in their nonwhite characters the way they do with their white characters, then it's definitely racist, and they're just riding with the approval in the way you say.

[aeferkssr]

“good morning, welcome to the shop! how may i assist you today?~”

GENSHIN IMPACT DR SELF

fan page for my fav script🫶 i love you my genshin script🫶

possible cw: soft angst, lots of jamaican references, cianna says box cover😱, cianna calls herself a furry (once), reality shifting terminology, not x reader

CIANNA - POTESTAS DEORUM

a young lady brought to teyvat by the power of foreign gods. embers, reignited again to serve a new purpose

CHARACTER STORY I

long and boring. those were the words cianna used to descibe her days, every day it was the same thing. on weekdays it was: wake up, get ready for school, try and convince teachers to give her an extension on overdue work, feel left out, walk to mommy’s office, get home around five or six in the afternoon depending on the traffic, try to complete homework and study for upcoming exams, hear her father complain about her wasted potential, brush teeth, tie down hair, and sleep.

the weekends were a a little bit better, she would get to sleep in a bit but would still need to wake up early to attend her extra lessons. this continuous cycle of trying and trying but never seeing results wared the young girl down. you would swear that she looked a little bit paler, or a little more tired than the last time you two met, but exams were coming up so that was to be expected.

oh how she dreaded the word. just the mention of the upcoming may-june exams had cianna’s mood drop to alarming levels. she wished that she could just run away from it all, all her unfinished SBA’s, all the teachers who seemed to want to do nothing more than make her life miserable, the people who ignored her for sport, but most of all, she wanted to run away from herself.

the feeling of overwhelming guilt washed over her frail body constantly. you did it back then so why can’t you just do it again? its really not that hard to focus on whatever the teacher is saying, just do it, dimwit! every day that cianna woke up she wish would be her last. maybe when she’s gone people will recognize that she was worth being around. after all, you never need something the most the second you can’t find it.

life wasn’t worth living if you had nobody to live it with.

nobody seemed to give her the time of day anymore. maybe she was too “out there” and made them all uncomfortable? maybe they all hated her from the start but never did anything about it until now? maybe… maybe cianna was unlikeable.

continuing on with cianna’s boring daily routine, she had just received a call from her school’s office that she had just been suspended for something she didn’t do. cianna, who is beyond numb at this point, looks up to the sky trying to delay her tears just for a little longer. the walk in the sun was terrible, as she relied on muscle memory to steer her to her mother’s office. starting the day off with being publicly humiliated by peers and ending the day with a suspension on her record. could the day get any worse?

“do you want to leave, my child?”

great, now she’s delusional.

the same voice continued to call for cianna for the next week, flooding her dreams with epic sceneries and ruins that were overflowing with mystery. in one of these dreams she sat in front of a coldron as it bubbled with unidentified liquid, and in another she soared through the sky on what seemed to be a broomstick. cianna laughed to herself when she woke up, maybe if she told someone about this they would burn her alive… and at the time, it didn’t seemed like a bad idea.

cianna barely pushed through another day at school before having to walk down to her mother’s office for the day. muscle memory took over once again on the short walk as cianna heard the strange voice again. she stopped in her tracks just to check if there was anyone around her, she didn’t want to look as crazy as she felt. with a deep breath, cianna contined walking not before answering the unfamiliar voice with a small “yes”

cianna herself still doesn’t know what happened there because the next thing she knew, she was floating. panicking a bit, she squirms around the pitch black sea trying to gain balance and also looking around to try and find an explanation, cianna wasn’t that smart so a long and in detailed explanation was due.

a light shone from behind her, as she quickly spun (or a quickly as she could) around to meet eyes with a glowing figure. the rather androgynous figure shone with a soft yet bright light behind it. their jet black hair, that rivalled the darkness that surrounded you two, swayed as their pure white clothes did. their grey eyes pitted the widened obsidian eyes that stood before them. as cianna snapped out of the trance that they unintentionally put her in, she speaks up, her voice slightly trembling:

“who are you? and where am i?”

the being simply smiled and answered:

“i go by many a name, but for now you may call me ze█r██ll”

cianna didn’t quite hear the name it said, but pretended that she did and nodded

“and as for where you are” they continued “you are in the void.”

she looked around the so-called “void” with a look on her face that said ‘what kind of hippee, flower-sniffing, scooby-snack bullshit is this?’

it chuckles as if it just read her mind,

“the void is a place that connects all universes and realities. it is the passing ground of those who shifts their subconscious minds at will, and a resting place for those who wish for a moment of peace. it can be seen as what you humans call a bus park”

“but with less wolmerians?”

the being chuckles once more, this time covering its mouth with the back of their palm,

“yes, dear. with a lot less wolmerians”

ze- uh.. ze-something reached into its pocket and pulled out a pocket watch. it looks up to cianna again before turning the long hand anti-clockwise. another source of light appears as it shows a lush forest, briming with both flora and fauna. the little fox-like creatures that run around chasing each other to the grand fir wood trees that housed birds, all of it looked so peaceful.

as cianna looks back up to the deity, whom she has underestimated their height since they basically tower over her, it spoke:

“i have been watching you for a while, cianna. watching you has entertained me to no end, and i am one who repays what is due” they gesture to the portal. “i have traversed through this world once, the people there are unforgettable and are sure to welcome you with open arms. go. experience what it is like to be wanted, to be loved, and most importantly: to have purpose.”

cianna couldn’t see clearly because of the tears that wheled within her eyes. she couldn’t even say thank you, she just looked back at the portal, then to the deity, then to the portal again with her mouth ajar. the tears fell and the only thing that came from her mouth was “thank you.” she has never really understood the term ‘tears of joy’ until now.

with a slightly runny nose, and a dizzy head from bowing down repeatly, she used her arms to help her manoeuvre the void. before she could “swim” through the portal, the psuedo-deity had one more thing to say:

“when you find your way in inazuma, give my regards to the general of the watatsumi resistance and the kamisato clan’s housekepper, if you will.”

cianna nodded, although confused as to what an ‘inazuma’ was, and turned around to say a final goodbye and thank you to ze- …maybe she should really ask them to repeat their name., but ther was nothing their but the void. despite this, she still shouted a quick goodbye before pulling herself into the portal created, awaiting her very first adventure in the land of teyvat.

CHARACTER STORY IV

if you were looking for the girl that, as the adventurers say, fell from the sky all those years ago, she would be found in the favonius library with her nose stuffed in a book. you would think that she would be reading some sort of fairy tale due to her youthful face, but in actuality she is running on pure impulse to look for materials for the spell shes about to cast.

cianna swishes a bubble of air in her mouth before letting it go, she had found the spell she was looking for! cianna quickly gets up, dusting off the sundress she usually wears and jumps around with the book clung close to her chest. she swiftly borrowed the book at the reception and made her way back to her small witch hut.

now, is this the best idea cianna has ever come up with? absolutely not. but! who would dare to bring her down when shes practically skipping through the whispering woods on her way home? cianna even starts to hum a soft tune, something she use to obsess over as an infant. cianna’s really healing her inner child today!

making it home, she takes off her shoes and shut the door quickly behind her. cianna placed the book gently onto her bed, and went to go and find the ingredients for the potion. when she returned, the coldron (which she set to boil prior) was ready to be used. she names off the ingredients before putting them in

“flowing spring water, to dash as fast as a hare, slime condensate, the better to bounce with…”

cianna continues to list off the ingredients one by one. when the final ingredient is added, the caldron erupts with smoke and reveals a portion of the coldran’s interior filled with a light pink substance. cianna squeaks as she runs to find a bottle to hold her concoction in. she comes back with a triangular base flask and scoops up the liquid at the bottom, all of it following itself into the flask

“good thing i made one serving, i would of blown the roof off if i didn’t” cianna says as she looks up to see small water droplets dripping into her coldron, most likely the steam from earlier condensing. cianna takes a deep breath before shouting::

“down the hatch!”

the texture of the slime condensate with the potion made it an awful experience. but, if she was being honest, it really wasn’t that bad. soon after the potion settled, the side effects started. cianna wasnt expecting such instant resulte and was shocked by the sudden headache. the pain was unbearable, she threw herself onto her bed and muffled her screams with her pillow. she couldnt even think straight, why is she doing this to herself.

well, a few hours late (all of those hours cianna has either been crying, screaming or sleeping) the results finally came. a charming pair of rabbit ears crowned her head and a fluffy tail poked out from over her underwear. of course, other features like increased stamina, a bigger appetite and even bigger feet came on later but cianna was beyond happy with herself!

“damn, i look like a furry”

years later, cianna looks at her acheivement as a baby witch with a sense of pride, but also bone-crushing embarassment because why would you actually do this..?

CHARACTER STORY V

cianna has always longed for a relationship. she desperately wanted someone who she could rely her innermost feelings to, and trust wholeheartedly that they won’t leave. she would read all manners of fiction, the main character and their love interest living together happily ever after. but when was it her time to feel such bliss?

where cianna was raised, relationships were bound to end up failing. literal blood was shed because of failed relationships and she wasn’t about to go get herself killed. men were so wicked and lying and deceitful but so were the girls, nobody could win in situations like these. yes, cianna has had her own relationship experience, but burnt herself out because most of the effort was put onto her. both her lovers ended up breaking it off first because they had lost feelings for her, but she struggles to figure out whether she had feelings for them in the first place. maybe it wasn’t a fear of being rejected, but a fear of rejecting someone.

coming to teyvat didn’t make it any easier. the people who were in her age group, at least she thought they were, were too busy seeking out their own adventures, their own passions. thus, cianna decided to dive head first into what she was passionate about, witchcraft. more specifically, metaktisis, summoning magic. her faunal features and the small flying ball of energy she named gabby were all results of this.

cianna was so happy that she could finally see her hard work bloom into fruition. something she could never achieve back in her old world. plus, the people of mondstadt and their affinity to freedom gave her all the reassurance she needs. maybe she doesn’t need anyone after, she i quite content in how she’s living now.

the witch rests her chin in her hands that are placed onto the dark oak stall where she sold her potions, one hand reaching to fidget with the tip of her left ear out of habit. cianna hasn’t known true tranquility for most of her life, so she basked in the fading glow of the sun.

“wakey wakey miss!” a childlike voice brings cianna out from her trance as she faces foreward to be met with flying shoes and a toned abdomen. clearly, the flying shoes didn’t peak her interest as her eyes trailed along the masculine figure from his navel all the way to those bright golden eyes of his.

“woah…”

cianna stared at the boy for a little longer before the flying shoes cleared her throat. quickly snapping out of her trance she fixed her pink dress and straighten her hat before pretending that absolutely nothing happened

“good evening guys, welcome to my shop! can i help you with anything?”

the blonde finally spoke after being in a trance of his own

“well… we wanted to see what this shop had, since we are kind of new here.”

new to mondstadt? or new to teyvat? but cianna knew better than to ask someone she just met their whole origin story.

“well im glad you asked! i sell a variety of potions i make here myself…” cianna starts to ramble off about her potions as the blonde stood there and listened with a big grin on his face. this didn’t go unnoticed by cianna, of course. she had always thought that her potion rambles were boring for those who weren’t witches but he stood there and listened for the whole time. the two had even started talking about completely different topics.

unfortunately for both travelers the sun ha already set and a bright full moon shone down on the pair. paimon had long fissapeared into wherever she goes to leave the two "lovebirds" alone.

"box cova, its a full moon! it completely slipped my mind... and i was suppost to close up early today" cianna said as she ran around the stall picking up her belonginfs and placing them onto a blanket. she 5ook the edges of the blanket, tied them to the end of her broomstick and quickly sprinted out the gate.

aether's smile never left his face and his cheeks were hurting because of it. joy turned into confusion as he saw cianna eunning back to him, broomstick still in hand.

"hey, whats wro-"

he couldnt even finish his sentence before the witch placed a small kiss on his cheek. cianna looked back at aether for a breif moment before fixing her hat and running iut the gate again.

aether doesn't think he's smiled this wide in years, the conversation thag lasted about an hour only felt like a few short minutes. he didn't even know your name, nor did you know his. but little did he know, that won't be the last time he saw you.

a day or two later, cianna set out to help a long time friend of hers run an errand. both of them were in an never ending game of IOU as it was her turn to return the favour. why they had asked her to meet at the church of favonius at midnight was beyond her, but it seems like something he would do.

"hey venny!" she waved, with venti's specific order in a basket she was carrying.

"well, if it isn't my favourite witch! how are you, cia?" he says before returning a quick side hug

"other than curious as hell as to what you need to be invisible for, i'm doing okay"

venti laughs as he jestures to the boy that stood beside him. you gasped when you noticed who it was:

"you're the cutie from a few nights ago!" cianna exclaimed as the so-called "cutie" flushes at the compliment.

"oho? so you two know each other?"

"mhm! he listened to my rant about my potions so of course i'd remember him!"

"but blondie aside," aether flushes once more at another nickname was given to him "what do you need these for, ven?"

venti ushers cianna to come closer as he takes off her hat and watches as her ears stand up. cianna leans down further to allow venti to whisper his plans into her ear. cianna's other ear twitches as venti finishes relaying his plan

"you're going to steal the what.?"

©eenie-teenieweenie

tagging ; @elychee || @0rah-s

zephyrll belongs to @/elychee

[claudia1829things]

"VANITY FAIR" (2018) Review

“VANITY FAIR” (2018) Review

When I had first heard that the ITV channel and Amazon Studios had plans to adapt William Makepeace Thackeray’s 1848 novel, “Vanity Fair”, I must admit that I felt no interest in watching the miniseries. After all, I had already seen four other adaptations, including the BBC’s 1987 production. And I regard the latter as the best version of Thackeray’s novel I had ever seen.

In the end, my curiosity got the best of me and I decided to watch the seven-part miniseries. In a nutshell, "VANITY FAIR" followed the experiences of Rebecca "Becky" Sharp, the social climbing daughter of an English not-so-successful painter and a French dancer in late Georgian England during and after the Napoleonic Wars. The production also told the story of Becky's school friend and daughter of a wealthy merchant, Amelia Sedley. The story begins with both young women leaving Miss Pinkerton’s Academy for Young Ladies. Becky managed to procure a position as governess to Sir Pitt Crawley, a slightly crude yet friendly baronet. Before leaving for her new position, Becky visits Amelia's family. She tries to seduce Jos Sedley, Amelia's wealthy brother and East India Company civil servant. Unfortunately George Osborne, a friend of Jos and son of another wealthy merchant, puts a stop to the budding romance.

While working for the Crawleys, Becky meets and falls in love with Sir Pitt’s younger son, Captain Rawdon Crawley. When Sir Pitt proposes marriage to Becky, she shocks the family with news of her secret marriage to Rawdon. The couple becomes ostracized and ends up living in London on Rawdon’s military pay and gambling winnings. They also become reacquainted with Amelia Sedley, who has her own problems. When her father loses his fortune, George's own father insists that he dump Amelia and marry a Jamaican heiress. George refuses to do so and thanks to his friend William Dobbin's urging, marries Amelia. Mr. Osborne ends up disinheriting George. However, the romantic lives of Becky and Amelia take a backseat when history overtakes them and their husbands with the return of Napoleon Bonaparte.

I wish I could say that the 2018 miniseries was the best adaptation of Thackery's novel I had seen. But it is not. The production had its . . . flaws. One, I disliked its use of the song "All Along the Watchtower" in each episode's opening credits and other rock and pop tunes during the episodes' closing credits. They felt so out of place in the miniseries' production. Yes, I realize that a growing number of period dramas have doing the same. And quite frankly, I detest it. This scenario barely worked in the 2006 movie, "MARIE ANTOINETTE". Now, this use of pop tunes in period dramas strike me as awkward, ham-fisted, unoriginal and lazy.

I also noticed that producer and screenwriter Gwyneth Hughes threw out the younger Pitt Crawley character (Becky's brother-in-law), kept the Bute Crawley character and transformed him from Becky Sharp's weak and unlikable uncle-in-law into her brother-in-law. Hughes did the same with the Lady Jane Crawley and Martha Crawley characters. She tossed aside the Lady Jane character and transformed Martha from Becky's aunt-in-law to sister-in-law. Frankly, I did not care for this. I just could not see characters like Bute and Martha suddenly become sympathetic guardians for Becky and Rawdon's son in the end. It just did not work for me. I have one last problem with "VANITY FAIR", but I will get to it later.

I may not regard "VANITY FAIR" as the best adaptation of Thackery's novel, I cannot deny that it is first-rate. Gwyneth Hughes and director James Strong did an excellent job of bringing the 1848 novel to life on the television screen. Because this adaptation was conveyed in seven episodes, both Hughes and Strong were given the opportunity retell Thackery's saga without taking too many shortcuts. The miniseries replayed Becky Sharp's experiences with the Sedley family, George Osbourne, and the Crawley family in great detail. I was especially impressed by the miniseries' recount of Becky and Amelia's experiences during the Waterloo campaign - which is the story's true high point, as far as I am concerned. Also, this adaptation had conveyed George's experiences during Waterloo with more detail than any other adaptation I have seen.

Aside from the Waterloo sequence, there were other scenes that greatly impressed me. I really enjoyed those scenes that featured the famous Duchess of Richmond's ball in the fourth episode, "In Which Becky Joins Her Regiment"; Becky's attempts to woo Jos Sedley in the first episode, "Miss Sharp In The Presence Of The Enemy"; the revelation of Becky's marriage to Rawdon Crawley in "A Quarrel About An Heiress"; and her revelation to Amelia about the truth regarding George in the final episode, "Endings and Beginnings". There were people who were put off that the series did not end exactly how the novel did - namely the death of Jos, with whom Becky had hooked up in the end. I have to be honest . . . that did not bother me. However, I was amused that Becky's last line in the miniseries seemed to hint that Jos' death might be a possibility in the near future.

The production values for "VANITY FAIR" struck me as quite beautiful. I thought Anna Pritchard's production designs did an excellent job in re-creating both London, the English countryside, Belgium, Germany, India and West Africa between the Regency era and the early 1830s. Not only did I find the miniseries' production values beautiful, but also Ed Rutherford's cinematography. His images struck me as not only beautiful, but sharp and colorful. I would not say that Lucinda Wright and Suzie Harman's costume designs blew my mind. But I cannot deny that I found them rather attractive and serviceable for the narrative's setting.

One of the production's real virtues proved to be a very talented cast. "VANITY FAIR" featured some solid performances from it supporting players. Well . . . I would say more than solid. I found the performances of Robert Pugh, Peter Wight, Suranne Jones, Claire Skinner, Mathew Baynton, Sian Clifford, Monica Dolan, and Elizabeth Berrington to be more than solid. In fact, I would say they gave excellent performances. But they were not alone.

Michael Palin, whom I have not seen in a movie or television production in years, gave an amusing narration in each episode as the story's author William Makepeace Thackeray. Ellie Kendrick gave a very poignant performance as Jane Osborne, who seemed to be caught between her loyalty to her bitter father and her long-suffering sister-in-law. Simon Beale Russell gave a superb, yet ambiguous portrayal of the warm and indulgent John Sedley, who also had a habit of infantilizing his family. Frances de la Tour was deliciously hilarious and entertaining as Becky Sharp's aunt-in-law and benefactress Lady Matilda Crawley. I could also say the same about Martin Clunes, who gave a very funny performance as the crude, yet lively Sir Pitt Crawley. One last funny performance came from David Fynn, who gave an excellent portrayal of the vain, yet clumsy civil servant, Jos Sedley. Anthony Head gave a skillful performance as the cynical and debauched Lord Styne. I thought Charlie Rowe was superb as the self-involved and arrogant George Osborne. Rowe, whom I recalled as a child actor, practically oozed charm, arrogance and a false sense of superiority in his performance as the shallow George.

I have only seen Johnny Flynn in two roles - including the role of William Dobbin in this production. After seeing "VANITY FAIR", it seemed that the William Dobbin role seemed tailored fit for him. He gave an excellent performance as the stalwart Army officer who endured years of unrequited love toward Amelia Sedley. Tom Bateman was equally excellent as the charming, yet slightly dense Rawdon Crawley. At first, I thought Bateman would portray Rawdon as this dashing, yet self-confident Army officer. But thanks to his performance, the actor gradually revealed that underneath all that glamour and dash was a man who was not as intelligent as he originally seemed to be. Amelia Sedley has never been a favorite character of mine. Her intense worship of the shallow George has always struck me as irritating. Thanks to Claudia Jessie's excellent performance, I not only saw Amelia as irritating as usual, but also sympathetic for once.

Television critics had lavished a great deal of praise upon Olivia Cooke as the sharp-witted and manipulative Becky Sharp. In fact, many have labeled her performance as one of the best versions of that character. And honestly? I have to agree. Cooke was more than superb . . . she was triumphant as the cynical governess who used her charms and wit in an attempt to climb the social ladder of late Georgian Britain. I would not claim that Cooke was the best on-screen Becky I have seen, but she was certainly one of the better ones. I have only one minor complaint - I found her portrayal of Becky as a poor parent to her only son rather strident. Becky has always struck me as a cold mother to Rawdon Junior. But instead of cold, Cooke's Becky seemed to scream in anger every time she was near the boy. I found this heavy-handed and I suspect the real perpetrator behind this was either screenwriter Gwyneth Hughes or director James Strong.

I have a few complaints about "VANITY FAIR". I will not deny it. But I also cannot deny that despite its few flaws, I thought it was an excellent adaptation of William Makepeace Thackeray's novel. Actually, I believe it is one of the better adaptations. "VANITY FAIR" is also one of the best period dramas I have seen from British television in a LONG TIME. And I mean a long time. Most period dramas I have seen in the past decade were either mediocre or somewhere between mediocre and excellent. "VANITY FAIR" is one of the first that has led me to really take notice in years. And I have to credit Gwyneth Hughes' writing, James Strong's direction and especially the superb performances from a first-rate cast led by Olivia Cooke. It would be nice to see more period dramas of this quality in the near future.

[dweebalina]

people (women) have always done this thing to me where they somehow come to the conclusion that im mean or bitchy or standoffish and then just act sort of cold towards me based on this character they created in their heads and it sucks lol. and because they project this personality onto me, they then think it’s okay to be rude to me because in their heads they’re being mean in return, but in reality I was never mean in the first place! why does no one ever assume that im shy? honestly..i’ve never really felt like being a black woman played a part in it but idk.. black women do it to me too. it doesn’t feel good, even if it’s coming from someone i don’t care for or someone who’s personality i don’t like or someone i don’t want to be friends with. there’s this woman at my job that’s 42 and from ny like me and knows the area that im from and even from my first interactions with her i never liked her. and i think she’s Jamaican and i don’t think i could ever trust a Jamaican woman lol but she’s never done anything that i can even just out right give an example of her being rude because it’s so subtle and weird. she just talks to me in a way i know she would never talk to the other 27 yo at my job like that. And they’re friends. i don’t like them and i don’t want to be friends with them, i just don’t like when people do shit like refer to me as she or her when im sitting right there. just out of basic respect and acknowledging another person sitting there.and there’s this younger girl there that does weird shit like maybe say hello to me crack a joke with me when the other girl my age isnt there, but when the other 27 yo is there she’ll put a paper on my desk and tap on the note on it instead of talking to me. Or suddenly she forgot my name..like stop being a weird bitch!!

[teenageread]

Review: Crushed

Synopsis:

It's springtime in suburban Rosewood, which means iced soy lattes, fresh manicures in shimmering pastels - and prom. But while everyone else is flipping through the racks at Saks in search of the perfect prom dress, Hanna, Spencer, Emily, and Aria are on a different kind of hunt: They're looking for A. . . .

Hanna puts her campaign for prom queen on the back burner to volunteer at a burn clinic, where one of A's victims is recovering. Emily digs into Ali's past at the mental hospital with some very crazy consequences. Spencer contacts a private eye to help her stalk her stalker. But when their sessions get a little too private, they may forget to keep their eyes on A. . . . And Aria's worried that A is even closer than she thought. When her dark secret from Iceland finally comes to light, she discovers that maybe, just maybe, the one person she's been trying to hide the truth from has known all along.

The liars are finally taking the fight to A. But no matter what they do, A's always one step ahead, ready to crush the girls completely.

Plot:

After the disaster on the Eco Cruise, the Liars are done with getting tormented by A. Hiding in Spencer's soon-to-be step-father bunker, they create a list of all the potential accomplices to A, whom they are nailed down to be Real Ali, who somehow survived the fire and are being taken care of by a private nurse. With all the names written down, Spencer gives each of the liars a task: Hanna is to go back to the burn clinic that Graham was placed him to see if he recognized A, Emily is to be friends with Iris as she was roommates with the Real Ali at The Preserve, Spencer is to track down Real Ali, and Aria is to investigate the one who has always been there when things went wrong, her amazing boyfriend Noel. As the girls dodge Special Agent Jasmine Fuji, an FBI agent tasked with interviewing everyone staying at the Jamaican resort the same time Tabitha was, she has additional questions for the liars. With prom approaching fast, the liars' love lives are also failing. Hanna has to lie to Mike. Reefer immediately bails on Spencer. Emily's love is also running from the FBI, and Aria is under increasing pressure, suspecting Noel is A. With A always being one step ahead of the liars, it is time for them to fight back and solve the mystery of their tournament before they are sent to jail for a murder they did not commit.

Thoughts:

Sara Shepard is out of their writing slump, as this thirteenth installment is as good as the start of the series. Shepard has the liars actively hunting A down for the first time, trying to figure out who they are and stop the tournament they have been put through. Shepard also ends their "what happens during the summer" segment, finishing off with Aria's Iceland summer adventure, which seemed to come out of nowhere, and similar to the other liars, it did provide plot points throughout this novel, but overall it was not really needed besides providing another character for the liars to interact with in the future. As the series is coming near the end, it is interesting to look at the romance element of the story, as Shepard divides the girls with solid love lives with Aria and Hanna to the one-offers with Spencer and Emily. Shepard spent the entire book twelve trying to get Spencer with Reefer, who bails by page twenty and is set up to never appear again. Meanwhile, Emily lusts after the FBI's most wanted, who also seems like they are never coming back. Yet this is one of several books where we see Mike and Hanna, and Aria and Noel, fighting, getting back together, fighting some more as the liars keep lying to their boyfriends. I understand the concept of maintaining the A secret, and not putting a target on their boyfriend’s back. Still, the liars should realize that by this point, the boys are involved, so lying to them about mundane things, like working at the burn clinic, creates unnecessary problems. This is also the first time Shepard has the girls look inward on who A could be. Throughout the story, Noel is the prime suspect despite being Aria's boyfriend for more than a year. With this focus on Noel and finding A in general, Shepard takes a backseat on previous villains of Kate, Klaudia, and Naomi, who barely get any page time within this novel as the liars are focused on finding A. For this, there is no worse character or best character, as each of the liars is focused on finding A, giving them each of tasks that they do not really mess up, as their hearts are all in it, trying to end the tournament. With this novel having similar cliff-hanger vibes as the first part of the series, this book definitely revamps the series with its fast-moving plot that relates to the series as a whole and character motivations that focus more on A rather than their mundane lives.

A Suspects:

The concept of the novel is our four girls trying to find out who A is, thus I thought it would be fun to keep a suspect list to see how many people Shepard writes for the girls to at one point suspect and by whom. So here is the list for book #13:

Noel by Spencer

Chase by Spencer

Body Count

As Shepard keeps killing people off, I think it would be a good idea to keep track of who died, but without spoiling the ending of the current book, as her habit is killing them off with two chapters to go. So here is the list of the dead for the previous book #12:

Jenna, Ian, Mona, Toby, Courtney, Tabitha and Gayle

Read more reviews: Goodreads

Buy the book: Amazon

[grapecaseschoices]

If i remember correctly you mentioned a while ago you were Haitian american (if not I'm really sorry for misremembering and pls feel free to correct me or ignore this ask!). If you are, I was wondering what some of you favourite Haitian dishes/food are. One of the characters in my story is of Haitian descent and I was doing some research on Haitian cuisine and it looks delicious. As a black woman and a foodie at heart I always love to research cuisines from different places in the world. I have tried Jamaican and Dominican food before, since I have quite a few Jamaican and Dominican family friends, but I've never tried Haitian food before. Do you have any recomendations that I should give a try?

You are most correct, anon! I am Haitian American. And do I ever!

It is as delicious as it looks.

We have sme similarities with Dominican food, obviously; but a lot of the difference is in how foods are done/cooked. Of course, person by person, region by region it will be different -- I've had the same food taste different in my own family (and it is sometimes a matter of person x and person y were both taught by person b, for example). But from my observation (and limited recollection -- it has been a while since I've had dominican food), things like the spices we use or how we cook our rice definitely differ.

Since I'm talking about spices, the thing to try is epis. I don't know WHAT it is made of - you can probably find receipes in Google - but it is a staple in many dishes. I saw it is similar to Dominican sazon? I'm not sure how accurate that is, but that might give yoou a base. It's basically a mix of spices and used to cook things like chicken, soups, meats, etc. I'm sure there are people who use it for everything.

Speaking of things people use for everything: Pikliz. Again, a thing that varies per household - it can be tangy, sour, or spicy. Generally though, it's spicy spicy or a spicy sour. And you can literally put it on anything (not sweet obviously -- or I don't know, to eacch their own). I LOOOOVE pikliz. It's like a relish, it has cabbage in it, the ingredients you'd probably see in a slaw. You can eat it with your meat, you can eat it with your rice. Like epis, you can cook the food with it but often enough people put it like a condiment. I personally love it on fried plantain.

Speaking of: we have banan peze (literally pressed bananas) - which is fried plantain flattened. It can be sweet or not. You have that with pikliz. Another popular food to eat by itself (or with pikliz) is griot, a type of pork. Or tassot (often goat but google says people have it as beef). A whole meal could be pikliz on the side, griot or tassot (or a sauceless chicken), banan peze and some rice.

Haitians LOVE their rice. Like, oh my goodness. Honestly, I know some Haitians that could have rice breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And maybe a snack. The main rices I recall are: white rice usually had with 'sos pwa' (beans ... sauce, I guess). There's black beans, red beans, or peas. Sos pwa can be had as a soup or, like I said, with the rice. Usually as a topping. Then there is diri kole avec pwa (probably saying it wrong, actually forgive all my creole spellings, I know most of these terms by sound/verbal) - which is basically rice and beans. Usually red beans and the rice comes out a nice brownish-red color. Or diri jonjon - which makes the rice come out black, and people often add shrimp. But there can also be like peas in it or black beans. Seafood - typically fish - can be had with the rice too by the way, but discussing the type of seafoods would take too long. I WILL say lambi is a big, BIG thing in Haiti -- lambi is a type of conch. Or just conch, idk.

I'm going to speed run through some appetizers and sweets, or else this will take forever. If you have more questions just let me know!

There is haitian patties - which is different style from jamaican patties or an empanada. But it typically has beef or chicken in it; it can also have types of fish or spinash. Fritai is also a thing, which is various fried foods.

Sweets: Diri Au Lait is my fave as a kid, and still. AK100 (a blended corn drink). Haitian cake is great. We have various fudges made of nuts and stuff.

Drinks: cola champagne is a favorite.

A quick look at this shows it's not inaccurate. Though it might be overwhelming. But it covers a lot of the stuff I missed, then you only asked for my faves :-D (which I still am missing a lot but thats a good starter I feel, lol.)

Happy eating! Enjoy :-D

[isabellatomasblog]

Greedy Choke Puppy: Nalo Hopkins on Humanity and Greed 

Greedy Choke Puppy is a short story by Nalo Hopkins about a mythological creature called a Soucouyant who steals the life spirit from babies. The story centers around Jacky and her Grandma and starts with Grandma discussing myths while braiding Jacky’s hair. Nalo Hopkins tends to write most of her stories on mythology and folklore but this Greedy Choke Puppy is different. It has such a twist ending that had my jaw on the floor when I finally finished it. One way Nalo does this is by having misdirection from unreliable narrator, Jacky. The story is told in an almost clinical academic way with much emphasis on Jacky being a graduate student. The way Nalo introduces the Soucouyant’s official meaning is through a dictionary definition. A soucouyant is described to be “an old, evil-tempered woman who removes her skin at night, hides it, and then changes into a ball of fire (106).” While this definition Nalo appears to be hinting towards the Grandma being the soucouyant since the Grandma is an elder lady and Jacky is a young woman. At the end it’s revealed that it is Jacky who is the soucouyant. Grandma has to kill both Jacky and her daughter to ensure that this creature doesn’t cause anymore disruption.

I think this twist ending came as such a surprise to me for a number of reasons. One being that I expected the book to be more predictable since it was already introducing a new creature rooted in Caribbean Myth, I did not think it was also going to pull the wool over my eyes. Another reason is because Jacky never alluded to being “evil” like the definition of a soucouyant. So there was also misdirection with the way a soucouyant was described. A lot of Jacky’s description mentions how she’s a single graduate student, and while focused on her studies, she is also interested in finding a partner. This hopeless love aspect to her makes it seem unlikely that she would be secretly draining the life force from babies at night. I also didn’t expect Granda to kill her so suddenly. Nalo Hopkins actually mentioned that she had toyed with the idea of Grandma and Jacky talking it out but that seemed to lack emphasis. Without the conflict, there is no real story. 

Nalo Hopkins has explained her thoughts on conflict and human nature and how she deals with that in her stories. She believes that fiction is all about problems and overcoming them. A Utopia takes away from this drive and plot. This is why Nalo does not typically write Utopia’s. Listening to her speak about this made me realize she's correct, without conflict and disagreement there is nothing to tell. She argues that human beings will always disagree with and have issues to resolve and if that cannot be part of a Utopian story, writers should come up with another story. The problem with Uptopia’s is they need to be dynamic, something that is constantly in the creation of itself. Nalo sees them as not toothy enough. This is true because human nature is conflict, we can create societies that are better but this doesn’t eliminate problems. Humans are not nice to each other and Upotia’s are very seemingly like a mask hiding away all the darkest parts of humankind. This ideology is reflected in Nalo’s Greedy Puppy which used magical realism. Everything but the addition of the soucouyant points to evidence that this story is mostly our world. The two main characters live in a modern world except for this mythology creature. 

Greedy Choke Puppy is an old saying that means if you eat too fast you will choke. It’s a Jamaican proverb that refers to a dog choking due to greed. This fits very well with the unfolding of Jacky’s character. Greed can happen to anyone, it’s a curse. A curse that is shown in the Soucouyant, who must hunt and hurt younger prey to feel satisfaction. It’s interesting because while it’s never alluded that Jacky is evil, her grandma does scold her for being greedy like her mother. This is Jacky’s downfall and her ultimate undoing. She succumbs to greed which gets her killed. This killing is not unjustified, readers are still able to sympathize with both Jacky and her Grandma. The Grandma because she had to kill both her own daughter and now her granddaughter. Jacky because it entirely wasn’t her fault, this was a generation curse passed down to her unwillingly. It mirrors how generation trauma can ruin both a singular member’s own identity and an entire family’s makeup.

[netscapenavigator-official]

Okay, so in order to explain this to you, fully, I have to spoil the game's plot. So Spoiler Alert to anyone interested in playing Nancy Drew: Ransom of the Seven Ships (Game #20).

Basically, in this game, Nancy gets stranded on a resort island in the Bahamas with her best friend (Bess) and her best friend's cousin (George). Nancy arrives on the island AFTER Bess and George, and when she gets there, it's revealed that Bess has been kidnapped and George found a ransom note.

In Nancy's adventures to fulfill the kidnapper's requests, she meets a "beach bum" who has a boat and (allegedly) travels from beach to beach just living life like a hippy (or whatever). When we first meet this man, he introduces himself as Johnny Rolle, a Jamaican man who has dreadlocks and a heavy accent (this is relevant).

Some time later in the game Nancy is exploring a cave and she stumbles across a driver's license. Whose driver's license? Well, the photo is of Johnny Rolle, except the name is "John E. Poole" and the license, itself, is very clearly from Victoria, Australia. Nancy confronts Johnny with this piece of evidence and he admits the truth to her by doing this:

~

[Thick Jamaican Accent] "Okay okay, you're right. I'm not Jamaican..."

*removes dreadlock wig*

[Thick Australian Accent] "I'm Australian."

~

Except then, it gets worse. Because after Nancy has finally found the thing she needs in order to fulfill the terms of the kidnapper, she receives another note saying to leave the ransom with "the beach bum" and that the "kidnapper" will pick it up from him, later. She does this, and then Johnny reveals that he is, in fact, responsible for everything, and that he is NOT Australian either. He is the whitest of white pricks from Stay Tuned For Danger (Game #2) known as Dwayne Powers. Dwayne was Nancy's friend's talent agent who was so far in debt that he blamed one of his former clients to the point of volatile hatred. He hated his former client so much that he mailed him a bomb, and later, he mailed a bomb threat to Nancy because she was getting too close to finding him out.

He decided to kidnap Nancy's friend and force Nancy to find a hidden treasure for him as revenge for "ruining his acting career and agency."

Oh, also, both the Jamaican Accent, Australian Accent, and American Accents for this ONE character were voiced by the same (white) man.

HeR Interactive, in light of the 2020 Black Lives Matter protests, discontinued sales of Ransom of the Seven Ships (Game #20). Although, a lot of fans speculate that poor sales and bad fanfare towards the game also contributed to their decision (it's not exactly a good game, tbh.)

This was the first Nancy Drew game where the villain had been seen before. Before this game, HeR Interactive had been planting the seed in people's heads that a villain would be returning for revenge. Nobody knew when, though. This was the reckoning of that foreshadowing. But because the "plot twist" and "twist villain" plot lines involve a literal race reveal, it's not uncommon to see people clown on this game. Also, like I mentioned before, it's not a particular good game, either.

In addition to all this, the Dwayne Powers we see in Game #20 looks nothing like the one in Game #2. They aren't even voiced by the same actor. ALSO, Stay Tuned For Danger (Game #2; Dwayne's original appearance) isn't particularly well-liked by the ND Fanbase, so bringing back it's villain was a controversial move from the get-go. Overall, this game was just an EXTREMELY horrible botch-job on an extremely important moment for Nancy's story line, and all these other compounding problems just make the game entirely nonredeemable, with the blackface, race-reveal plot being the final nail in it's coffin.

Oh boy! I sure am looking forward to playing Nancy Drew: Ransom of the Seven Ships; The first game where Bess and George appear in-game! I sure hope there isn’t a blackface plot line, or anything.

[bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus]

Baying Dogs; Chapter 3: Separating The Herd

Warnings for: violence, gore and swearing! And above all, character death!

Word count: 2,649

For those of you coming to read from the Solstice event, this is the third chapter of my ongoing Call of Duty fic where I've basically made a whodunit and mixed in some elements from one of my favourite movies: Dog Soldiers. Take this as a horror short! I'll have another short up later on based on my original work too.

Here's the blurb from the Ao3 version to give you some context:

"They were outnumbered, barely making it out by the skin of their teeth. However, they haven't got time to breathe. People are starting to drop like flies and someone's behind it. As for who? Well, as much as I hate to say it, it might be one of their own."

As she was putting her first aid kit back into her rucksack, Dougs heard a peculiar sound.

Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.

It almost sounded like rustling. The scratching of fabric making itself known, followed by a few repressed, pained grunts.

“Gah! Shit!”

Dougs rolled her eyes, knowing full well what was going on.

“I hope you’re not destroying my handiwork.”

Ghost paused at the sound of her clipped tone, her Jamaican accent thickening in her irritation.

After a brief pause, the sound of his itching resumed.

Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.

That does it! This is the third fucking one!

“Don’t scratch your stitches!” Dougs pounced, grabbing his arm, “For fuck’s sake! You’re the third guy and this is getting out of hand.”

The hand which she had caught by the wrist was tense, fingers in a claw-like array, trying to fight against the urge to shove her off. Dougs’ big brown eyes bore angry holes into Ghost’s face, and, judging by the hints of a raised brow under his mask, he was taken aback.

“It’s… so itchy.”

“Well, don’t give in. I can’t be staying up all night redoing everyone’s dressing because they can’t be arsed to resist the urge to itch!”

His eyes narrowed.

“I thought doctors were supposed to be empathetic.”

“Sometimes we get a bit fed up. Now, quit trying to undo your stitches.”

“Can’t I have some of that numbing cream?” Ghost asked, pointing to the tube sitting half-out of its cardboard box.

She shook her head.

“I have to conserve that for when it’s actually needed.”

“I need it.”

“Distract yourself with other sensations. Rub your legs, go look at the stars outside- just don’t itch!”

He was about to protest, only for the zip of their tent to be undone.

Gaz poked his head in.

“I’ve undone my dressing.” He smiled guiltily, showing a bloodied arm.

Dougs wanted to pull the hair out of her scalp.

“What is going on?!” She cried, “Give me your arm, let me see.”

His wound was red and raw, with local swelling around the cut.

“Infected…” Dougs thought aloud, before turning to her half-packed med kit.

“Infected?” Gaz asked nervously.

“Let me just get some TCP out and-”

She turned back to see he was raising his eyebrows at her.

Dougs just stared at him blankly.

Again, he raised his eyebrows at her.

She looked back at Ghost, who was watching on, either with utmost curiosity or because he didn’t know where to place his eyes.

“Well, we don’t know for sure if it’s badly infected.”

“But it is infected.” Gaz said, emphasising the last word, “Infected from the attack.”

“Or b-because dirt can get into it, maybe?” Dougs nodded slowly, “And also because we lack the resources to deliver adequate enough care to have prevented this when we first completed your dressing.”

“Or it could be from the attack.” Gaz once more suggested.

“We don’t know for sure your theory is certain.”

They are definitely talking about something else… Ghost tilted his head to one side, listening to this almost robotic conversation, or they’re both having a stroke.

“Am I in trouble?” Gaz swallowed hard, “Because I’ve got a fever too and-”

She checked his forehead, to find he had a hot head like Graves and Price.

“We’ll see, Gaz. Let’s see what we can do now, okay?”

He nodded, but unable to shake the dread.

Something was weighing down on his chest and Sergeant Garrick began to wonder if the lack of recollection from the night leading up to Weir’s death was in fact not due to a heavy sleep but rather responsibility. Perhaps there was a reason he was the first to find her body.

No, Gaz pushed those thoughts away, there’s no evidence.

Dougs popped on a fresh dressing and sent him on his way, letting out a big yawn.

She ought to have antibiotics with her, knowing full well that these types of infections can get serious, but all she had were diaphoretics and salt.

Luckily, there hadn’t been any signs of pus forming in any of the injuries she had seen so far… but she knew it would be inevitable.

Better get ready to make some salt baths soon.

“Do you feel feverish, Ghost?”

He shook his head.

“Can I check anyways?”

Reluctantly, he removed the skull mask and loosened his balaclava. Guiding her hand, he let her feel his cheeks and forehead.

At least we’ve got one without a raging fever.

He felt cool, the only sensation Dougs really picked up on was the slight roughness of his stubble. She gave a small sigh of relief, eyes blinking slowly in their growing tiredness.

“Well, it seems you’re clear. Don’t start scratching at your dressing whilst I nod off, understood?”

Ghost nodded, taking her advice to distract himself from the urge by raking his nails along his thick cargo pants.

As Dougs snuggled into her sleeping bag, she turned to face Ghost, watching him begin to close up shop. It was nice to be lying down, her feet pulsing with the ache of their walking, only just experiencing a proper rest after miles of trekking. Every muscle in Dougs’ body was reverberating with a dull pain: her back, her feet and her hands, which were cramping a little from all the fine-motor tasks. She clenched and unclenched her fist underneath the covers, trying to get the stiffness out of her joints.

“Are you going to sleep with that thing on?” She asked, a curious smile creeping across her tired face.

“Yes, and soundly.” Ghost replied.

Dougs was going to remark on the surprising tranquillity of this evening, but her mind turned to the chaos that was replacing almost everyone’s dressing.

She looked back at Ghost, who had set his mask aside, looking in his rucksack for the hangable torch, his wounded hand raised in the air, sleeve rolled up. Presumably, the man was trying to see if the ‘out of sight, out of mind’ thing worked and it seemed it was as he wasn’t itching.

She shook her head, hoping that maybe letting the wound breathe might help alleviate the irritation, but she could see by the way his arm shook a little with tension, that he was resisting the compulsion to tear out the sutures.

I should have brought cones of shame with me. Works on dogs.

As if on cue, Dougs whipped her head around at a strange sound. It was distant, but unmistakeable. Almost like a lamentation, it rasped out a little at the end, but picked up for a new cycle of wails.

“Is that howling?” She rose from her sleeping bag, looking in the direction of the sound.

“Baying.”

The medic turned around to Ghost.

“That’s baying.” He repeated, not bothering to dart his head about like Dougs.

“Baying?”

“Yeah. Not quite howling. Not quite barking. Dogs usually do it when they’ve found something they want others to see. Not surprised a farm dog would be baying at this hour, probably saw a fox or something.”

“Are you sure it’s a farm dog?”

Ghost scoffed at the worried look on her face.

“What else is it gonna be? Wolves?”

She shrugged, drawing her knees to her chest.

“I saw you talking to Gaz.” Ghost continued, “Is he still harping on about the attack being animals?”

She shook her head.

“No. He doesn’t think it was animals anymore.” Dougs half-lied.

“Glad he’s getting with the program.” Ghost remarked, hanging up a torch on the carabiner above them, “The last thing we want is infighting on who done it. Northolt is our objective, let’s focus on that.”

“Yeah.” She nodded, “Yeah.”

Dougs looked off to the side, hearing the hound’s baying once more.

***

BANG!

Gunfire rang out and both Dougs and Ghost shot up at the echoing sound.

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she stumbled out the tent, following the lieutenant.

Soap clutched his gun in shaking hands, the barrel still smoking as he watched the thing collapse onto the ground.

“Soap!” Ghost ran to his side, “Soap, are you alright?!”

“What the fuck is that?”

“What is what?” Ghost looked at him, only to follow his gaze down MacTavish’s raised arm and pointed to finger to see something he… he didn’t know what to make of.

“What the fuck is that?”

Ghost backed up.

It was large, surely as big as a bear if not bigger, with a mane of fur around its neck and two sizeable bullet holes in its stomach. A forked tongue hung out its mouth which was lined with teeth fit for shearing and tearing meat.

Gaz slunk past Ghost to get a closer look, only to be grabbed by the shoulder and held back by his lieutenant.

“It looks like a dog.” Graves observed, resting some of his weight on Dougs who propped him up so he could stand a little more upright.

“That’s one fucked up dog.” Soap remarked, grimacing.

Dougs covered her nose.

“Smells rank.”

“What is it, though?” Gaz asked.

“Dogman?” Soap suggested.

“Fucking dogman?!” Gaz pointed to it, “That’s a whole-ass werewolf!”

Its eyes opened. As they squabbled and argued about the hypotheticals of what this could be… the thing was listening.

And Dougs clocked it was alive.

Blood began to pour from its wounds once more.

“Uh… guys…” She began to back away with Graves.

“Why are you fixed on the biology, Soap?!”

“Guys…” Dougs said again, seeing its fingers tense.

“Because that looks like a dogman! And I know for a fact that dogmen are more likely to be real than a fucking man who can turn into that thing!"

“Oh my God.” Gaz pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Boys!” Graves snapped, “Shoot that thing before it gets up!”

“What?”

“Fuck!”

It had risen onto its hind legs, drool dripping from its chops. They all staggered backwards.

“Fucking shoot it, Soap!” Graves yelled.

Without a second thought, Soap open fired on the animal. It let out a shriek before trying to take a swipe at the gun.

Soap managed to hit it before it got close enough, and the creature stumbled, before falling to the ground.

This was a mistake.

Because, and they hadn’t realised it yet but, that thing was way more comfortable on all fours.

Licking the slobber hanging from those dribbling lips, it snapped at them. Clearly, unfazed that it had another wound gushing with blood.

Soap lined up to take another shot.

“Shouldn’t we need silver?” Gaz mumbled.

Graves shot him a dirty look, keeping a hand on his chest so he’d remain the furthest behind them.

“If I shoot it, what difference is it gonna make?” Soap asked, finger hovering over the trigger.

“What does it matter?!” Dougs groaned, “It’s either it dies or we’re dinner!”

Soap took a deep breath and steadied his aim.

BANG!

Straight through the eye. Its head flung backwards, only to return to facing ahead, glaring daggers at them.

“You see?! What the fuck do I do?”

That’s when Ghost charged at it from behind and flung boiling water from one of the cooking pots.

It screeched, totally caught off guard.

Ghost grabbed his knife and stabbed it in the gut.

Only to be grabbed and thrown across the camp, landing on top of the spare tent.

“Fire again!” Graves shouted.

Soap did so.

And again. And again.

Each time, the animal would get knocked back, return to its original position, staggering towards them like a deranged, sickly yet determined fool, oozing buckets of blood.

The whole party did what they could only do, raise their arms and roar at it, sticking close together so as to appear as a single, frightening unit. They roared and clapped their hands. Roared and fired their guns.

It hissed before turning back around and making a retreat, dashing into the woods with a slight limp… just as the sun’s morning rays landed on their small, temporary plot of land.

They were all left speechless… well, except for Gaz.

“I fucking knew it!” He shook his fist in the air, “That’s what hit us before!”

“How do you know for certain?” Graves asked.

“What got you, Commander?”

“A man.” Was the reply.

“Are you sure?”

As Gaz began to explain his theory on their enemy, Dougs looked around.

And counted.

Soap, Gaz, Graves and Ghost.

There were supposed to be six.

Price.

“Guys.” She called for silence, “Where’s Price?”

They all looked about.

“Oh fuck!” Soap’s head was on the verge of doing a full 360 spin, “Where’s Captain Price?”

“Shit…” Graves sighed.

As they trekked along the winding path, keeping to the perimeter of the field, Dougs spotted something ahead.

Someone.

“Hey!” She whispered to Graves, who had taken to using her as his new crutch, “Do you see that?”

“What?” He asked, wincing as the sun blinded him momentarily.

“Look!” She pointed with her free hand, “Look!”

“Oh… Oh! Woah! Folks!”

They stopped dead in their tracks.

“Is that-”

The distant figure collapsed onto the ground.

“Fuck!”

Ghost remained on overwatch with Dougs as Soap and Gaz, guns at the ready ran ahead.

Within minutes, the remaining three’s radios crackled.

“It’s Price…” Soap said, “And he’s dead.”

They had crowded round the dead body, looking down at it with despondent eyes.

“It’s him.”

They could just about recognise the lifeless form of their captain. His gear was reduced to rags with gaping wounds littering his body.

“What happened to him?” Soap asked, not sure what other words to say.

Gaz knelt down to check his breathing.

“Yep…” His voice quivered, “… Dead.”

“You don’t think he was… you know…” Graves looked to the company to the left, and then to his folks on the right.

“Are you saying that I shot Price?” Soap growled.

“Well, why else would he be here, half naked and dead with wounds that we gave to a monster hours ago?”

Dougs felt cold sweat run down her temple… or was it the foggy air condensing around her?

Either way, she wiped off the moisture.

Only for the wetness to return, this time in the form of a droplet; followed by another and then another.

Ghost looked up to the sky and held his hand out.

“We should think about moving, or this’ll get worse.”

“What about Price?” Gaz raised, “We can’t just leave him here!”

“Can’t exactly bury him…” Soap muttered.

That’s when Gaz turned to face Soap with narrow eyes.

“You were on night watch last night.”

“Aye. So were you.”

“I left halfway through because of my stitches.” Gaz walked up to him, “Did you see anything? Do anything?”

“Gaz…” Dougs spoke sternly.

Soap stared at him, unsure whether to meet his eyes or not.

“I heard voices. More specifically your voice.”

“Gaz, that’s enough!” Ghost barked.

Gaz placed a finger on Soap’s armoured chest.

“Tell me everything.”

“Gaz, what are you implying-”

“Report, Sergeant!”

Dougs knew she would’ve flinched in that moment, but Soap stood strong, unmoved. Instead of recoiling, he simply sighed.

“I saw Price come out the tent, walk into the woods. At first, I thought he’d got up to piss but something was off. I followed him, called after him. And… I lost sight of Price.”

Gaz began to laugh, shaking his head.

“You just lost sight of him?”

“I swear I had nothing to do with this!” Soap snarled.

“You fucking…” Gaz clenched his fist.

Only for a hand to place itself on his shoulder:  Ghost looked down at the sergeant with tired eyes.

“We don’t need this. Price is dead and we have a long way to Northolt, so let’s just stick together as a- Ah!”

He released Gaz, clutching his arm.

“You alright, Lt?” Soap came to his side.

“Yeah…” Ghost breathed out, “Just… tore my stitches.”

He looked over to Dougs, apologetically.

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

After reading your opinion on Molly Weasley, i want to know: What are you're opinions on the Weasley family? Besides Ron & Molly that is.

Five characters? In one post? Well, alright, here we go.

The Weasleys as a Whole

I’ve mentioned this before but JKR writes the Weasleys to clearly be a believable but ideal family. They’re all fiercely loyal, progressive per wizarding world standards, love each other and Harry deeply, and have this wonderful off-kilter joyous house where there’s always some rambunctious thing going on. 

Harry comes to associate the Weasleys with family and, personally, I believe a large part of him marrying Ginny boils down to it will make him a Weasley for real. 

That said, they’ve got some major issues. They’re very righteous people who, as a whole, will ice you out the moment they even suspect you do something that disagrees with them. You don’t even have to do it, what you did or didn’t do doesn’t even have to be something terrible or something bad, but god help you if the family decides they’re done with you. 

They’re very resentful of people like the Malfoys. This isn’t just because Lucius is a smarmy, pompous, ass (he is) or that he indirectly almost murdered Ginny but seems to mostly be because Lucius has so much money. All of their interactions seem to boil down to the money. More than this though, the Weasleys seem fully supportive of laws that... well, used against themselves would be a travesty but used against the likes of the Malfoys it’s about damn time.

They’re unquestioningly loyal to Dumbledore. Granted, most people we see in canon are, Dumbledore’s very very very good at convincing people he’s a saint. However, these guys are practically his cult member to the point where they do things like refuse to have Harry over the summer, even before Voldemort returned, because Dumbledore told them not to. 

They also never really adopt Harry into the family. Oh they give him a nice sweater, he comes over every once in a while to the house, he’s very good friends with Ron but he’s mostly treated just like that, a good friend. Now, there’s nothing wrong with this, except the way JKR sets it up we’re supposed to believe this is the family Harry found. It’s just that the family Harry’s found let’s him stay in a house with bars on his window where twelve-year-old Ron tells them, “Harry’s muggle family is really really awful” in a way that should have been raising red flags. Hermione practically lives at the Weasleys, Harry never does.

Now, are the Weasleys evil? No, far from it, they’re ordinary people who act in ways I’d expect ordinary people too. Technically they didn’t have to do anything more for Harry than they did, they didn’t have to hate Lucius Malfoy for better reasons, and they don’t have to be even slightly less worshipful of Dumbledore. They’re people, and they’re fine characters, but the overwhelming worship and love of the Weasleys we see across fandom does get on my nerves.

But you asked for individuals, so here we go.

 Arthur Weasley

Arthur is the epitome of “Pretty Fly for a White Guy” in the worst of ways and is, frankly, a giant awful joke to me. He’s the white kid you see going around with dread locks, a beanie the color of the Jamaican flag, smoking weed, and attempting to speak like Bob Marley 

Only, because he does it with muggle things, we’re supposed to find him funny and progressive.

Arthur is absolutely, albeit unwittingly, condescending in his love of muggle knickknacks. He has no idea how any of it actually works, not limited to how muggles could possible survive without the gold standard, but ardently believes he does because he can enchant the car to fly. Seriously, that he believes he’s an expert on muggle culture, as a pureblood wizard who heads an office in the ministry on it, is the worst part. His love of toasters comes across as, “Wow, look how cool it is that these poor little muggles made all this neat stuff. We should absolutely love the muggles because of it!” And that he heads an office in the ministry called “The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts” which is all about catching down Jackass style pranksters who think it would be hilarious of they enchanted toasters to bludgeon muggles to death...

Goddammit Arthur, why do you exist?

Right, otherwise, he’s got some pride issues going on. Part of the reason Percy is excommunicated is not so much that Percy doesn’t believe Harry, but because Percy dared to do better than Arthur in his own career. Arthur is stuck in his position as head of a joke of a department, he is an underling at its finest, and frankly likely only has that position because he’s a pureblood and the idea of putting a halfblood or even muggleborn at the head of a department dealing with muggles just made the higher ups shudder. (Don’t tell Arthur that though, he likes to think he’s not benefitting from nepotism). 

Arthur goes so far to accuse Percy as Fudge’s secretary as spying on him. Arthur, the guy who heads “Misuse of Muggle Artifacts”. Yeah, Arthur, I’m sure Fudge is really wasting his time using his straight laced secretary to find out all your dirty secrets. 

He also tends to see the world as very black and white. When Skeeter in book 4 writes an article after the Quidditch World Cup disaster complaining about the ministry’s lax security in enabling domestic terrorists to enter (something completely valid and true by the way) Arthur is so personally offended that both he and Percy go straight to the ministry to complain about Rita Skeeter and her daring to assume freedom of speech! HOW DARE SHE CALL THE MINISTRY’S NON-EXISTENT SECURITY AT THE WORLD CUP LAX! (To be fair, she also cited Arthur as having been in attendance at the event, a ministry employee, and having done nothing but, well, this is also true Arthur. You’re in a guerilla, underground, resistance movement. If I didn’t already think the Order was a joke this would kind of highlight it for me).

He’s also very resentful of Lucius Malfoy, and it seems to mostly be about the money. Arthur and Molly have a severe spending problem and actively resent that Lucius is swimming in money. That Arthur is ardently pleased about a law being passed in which the ministry without warrant can ransack Lucius Malfoy’s home... 

Well, Arthur, imagine the slippery slope if the government decides that it would like to search the Weasley home without warrant? In fact, he doesn’t even have to imagine it, as the beloved government in a few short years turns against him and then it’s all about how corrupt the ministry is. 

Arthur’s delightfully narrowminded, basically, and reminds us at nearly every opportunity.

Percy Weasley

Mostly, I just feel bad for Percy. Percy’s the son/brother that nobody likes and he’s painfully aware of that fact. He doesn’t fit in with the others, he has far too much ambition for the Gryffindor family and they resent him for it, and then he dares to say things like “I don’t know guys, Voldemort resurrecting from the dead after decades doesn’t sound plausible, we know Harry’s a little off kilter, and Dumbledore’s one shady dude”. Percy happens to be wrong about Voldemort resurrecting (and admits as much when the evidence is plainly visible), but he’s pretty on the money with the rest of it.

Regardless, growing up we see Ron constantly hating on Percy along with the rest of the siblings. I’m sure Percy is obnoxious, and certainly full of himself after making prefect and head boy, but he’s very clearly even before Order of the Phoenix the Least Favorite Brother (TM).

Then the Weasley family completely ices him out for a) getting a very high ranking position very quickly as Fudge’s secretary and b) not being gung ho about Dumbledore saying crazy things in the paper. Remember that to Percy Harry is Ron’s weird friend who seems to get into highly illegal activities every other week. From Percy’s point of view, it’s probably a matter of time before Harry becomes a crack head in Knockturn Alley (or given how behind the times wizards tend to be, an opium den). 

He’s constantly getting Ron into not only trouble but life threatening situations, is erratic and apparently a parseltongue of all things, and now Harry’s flipped his lid and saying that Voldemort has been resurrected after having gone through a very traumatic experience of watching a classmate somehow die. 

While we see Percy kind of (sort of)  make up with the family it’s clear that for Percy to have any relation with these people he’s the one who will always, ALWAYS, have to come crawling back on his knees and begging for forgiveness. It’s the Weasley way or the highway and I imagine, at some point probably a little after/during that epilogue, Percy will just slowly drift away because it’s just not worth it anymore.

Percy’s very much the black sheep of the family.

Fred and George Weasley

You all are going to kill me, but I actually don’t care in the slightest about Fred and George Weasley. This is because they basically have no personality aside from “funny”. 

They just have their weird, tandem, twin act and are either playing jokes on the school or else serving as Deus ex Machina in giving Harry magical items such as the Marauder’s Map for no apparent reason. The plot told them it was time, I guess. 

Their jokes, while not as bad as Sirius and James’ “Let’s sexually harrass Severus Snape by pantsing and beating him at the edge of Hogwarts lake” or Sirius’ “Let’s get Snape eaten by a werewolf!” are still often needlessly cruel and... kind of pointless. They harass Slytherin house constantly just because they happen to be Slytherins, they’re acceptable victims (which of course makes house tension that much worse). Harry gets sent a toilet seat in the hospital because... that’s funny? Har de har? 

They’re so indistinguishable from one another I routinely see people mistake which one got his ear chopped off and which one died. Because the point is, that we can’t tell the difference! It doesn’t matter who lived and who died because all we know is that Freorge is dead! 

Similarly, you see tons of fics around where character of the day ends up in this weird twincestuous relationship with Fred and George and it’s not only for a) that delightful twincest but b) because they’re such a singular unit that any attempt to pair one with somebody else feels weird. So you just get these porn fics about Fred and George being weird rapey teenagers who seem like they’d be more interested dating each other. 

Charlie Weasley

I really have no thoughts on Charlie. He raises dragons in Romania, the family loves him. Now, dragon raising feels like one of the most dangerous jobs in the Harry Potter universe, like Charlie had just gone and signed up to be a lumberjack but he seems to like it?

We really don’t see much of Charlie, he’s just the obligatory older Weasley son so that the Weasleys can be this ridiculously large family.

Bill Weasley

We see slightly more of Bill, but again, not enough to really leave an impression. We know that his marrying Fleur sent Molly into a complete state, and that they’re going to have awkward Christmas dinners forever because of it where Fleur just sits there and pretends not to loathe every second of Molly’s presence while Molly notes how bad it is that Victoire got stuck with that ugly pink hair instead of the Weasley red. 

Bill doesn’t seem to really do anything about this. He still marries Fleur, but we don’t really see a major confrontation where he tells the family “Look, I’m marrying her, so grow up.” So, I imagine he just tries to smile pleasantly and tells Fleur to just endure it for another few hours. He loves his family, his family’s great, but they only have to see Fleur once a year at Christmas.

Ginny Weasley

Ginny is weird. She’s this weird, frankly, almost personality-less void whose sole obsession in life seems to be marrying Harry. She and Harry end up in the world’s weirdest relationship and I honestly have no idea how people ship it other than canon told them to.

Ginny’s... well, first off, she’s very much in love with an idea. She had always worshipped Harry Potter but then he personally saves her life in what was a horrifically traumatic year and so that feeling just grows even more. Despite being Ron’s sister, she barely seems to know Harry, and everything she seems to like about it are just things she made up.

I imagine her and Harry’s marriage will be littered with affairs on her end. Not divorce though, because Harry would never admit his wife is having affairs on him all the time even if someone directly confronted him. Harry also won’t admit he’s gay. 

More than though we get hints of a personality. Ginny’s a fiery red-head tomboy with a temper. But... Well, it’s only ever hints. She never felt like a real person to me. She has I think one throwaway line about the Chamber of Secrets incident and how it personally affected her. We’re told she’s great at the bat boogey hex so we know she’s a fiery independent woman.

She feels more like a character sheet than an actual person. 

Whenever she’s around I always had this nagging question in my head where I ask why Ginny’s here. She has a lot of potential but nothing’s ever done with her. And when something is, it’s to get her into this bizarre relationship with Harry where he imagines there’s a green rage monster in his chest that loves her skin.

Okay Harry, if you say so. 

TL;DR: The Weasleys aren’t evil or anything, I’m not on Team Bash Them All, but they are shortsighted, ordinary, people who don’t deserve to be worshipped as all that is good in this world.