#also that moment where he tells Miles he understands the grief

[fellhellion]

Literally gnawing on that one bit of emotional honesty from Miguel where he hears Gwen helplessly say she has no idea how to fix this - and that’s what shakes him - giving that wry reply about her joining the club

[rwbyrg]

Can we take a moment to appreciate just how well fed we are? Both in canon and beyond?

Oscar said "woah" the moment he first met Ruby.

"Woah. You have... silver eyes". Specifically.

The scene of them sparring at sunset and being goofy about it.

They're the two youngest members of the team, and both of their main allusions are stories about growing up (The Little Prince and Little Red Riding Hood).

Oscar's main allusion is of a character that's in love with a rose. Ruby's last name is Rose, she has a rose emblem, and can turn into rose petals.

They also have shared/parallel allusions from in-universe fairytales (Ex. The Boy Who Fell From The Sky, The Girl Who Fell Through the World, and most notably, The Warrior in the Woods).

The Dojo Scene

Their shared attachments to each other keep being put in focus.

Oscar cared more about Ruby being knocked out than Weiss being impaled at Haven.

Ruby's always watching his back in fights, and he always has hers in group conflict discussions.

Neo, the illusionist character, uses Oscar as both the first and last illusion to torture Ruby; going so far as to make Ruby "kill" him with her own hands. It could have been anyone, but it WASN'T. It was OSCAR.

Meanwhile, Oscar in the V9 epilogue laments to Ruby's "grave" about how he is struggling to hold onto who he is more than ever before. In large part because of the merge, but also because Ruby "always saw people for who they really were", and she's not around anymore to help remind him of who he is.

"You're your own person."

The Almost Hug.

The song that plays leading up to The Almost Hug is one about someone pining for a love they've lost and been separated from across worlds. The song airs a few episodes before Oscar and Ruby are the only "pairing" split up between Remnant and The Ever After. The song itself is called Treasure and Ruby is a type of precious gem, while Oscar's name alludes to gold.

Oscar's last name is Pine. Which, aside from the species of tree, is defined as: "to long or yearn for the return of something; to suffer, typically from a broken heart"(please see points 12 and 15).

They have multiple paralleling arcs and themes around choice, identity, responsibility, leadership, grief, etc.

Their character designs have complimentary colour schemes like other canon ships (red/green and silver/gold).

Sun/Moon ship

"Combat gear looks good."

They also follow the same story beats, separations, and reunions that other canon ships have in show (the meet-cute, the getting-to-know-you, the breakup arc, the distance makes the heart grow fonder trope, the (upcoming) emotional reunion, etc).

The animators, writers, and even voice actors on occasion, engage with fan content or discussions of the ship in a positive manner.

The Official RWBY Twitter Oscars Meme

Miles Luna has said a few times that the ship is cute. He also highlights that their relationship is built on mutual understanding from being in similar circumstances as the youngest kids in the group with too much weight on their shoulders.

Miles also said that in a hypothetical scenario where everyone celebrates Oscar's birthday, Ruby would buy a co-op video game as a present and the two of them would stay up really late playing it together.

Rosegarden won 2nd place in a popular RWBY YouTuber's "Top 10 RWBY Ships" poll as voted by fans after Volume 8 (it would have been third place if Renora and Bumbleby hadn't tied for first).

That one video from Aaron Dismuke, Oscar's VA.

"That kid's got a collapsible staff" -heart eyes emoji-

We've gotten a "Rosegarden Moment" in every Volume premiere since Oscar's debut in V4.

Oscar shouting Ruby's name too many times in the V6 fight against Cordovin.

Maria tells Oscar to "keep that fire fed" after he overhears Ruby talking about food always making her feel better. Then a few episodes later, he suspiciously makes a casserole for the "team" after "they" had a rough day (where he stood up for Ruby when she was looking defeated in a group argument).

Oscar's the only person Ruby opened up to about her grief until the blacksmith. Meanwhile, Ruby's the one who's always assuring Oscar he's his own person despite the merge.

The parallels of Oscar's struggle with the merge and Ruby's ascension in The Ever After.

"I'm just going to be another one of his lives, aren't I?" / "What if you could be anyone?"

Characters within the narrative regularly notice how close these two are to each other. Mainly Nora, Weiss, Yang, Cinder and Neo.

Oscar blushed when Ruby touched his shoulder???

THE FUMBLE?!?!?!?

[crxss01]

— Never Felt So Low

pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x reader

summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ you see miles a month after his dad's funeral.

warnings ✧˖ ° angst, comfort, sad miles, grief, mentions death (obvi), sad tía morales.

m. list, main m. list.

translations ✧࿓☾ mija: dear, bonito: handsome/pretty boy. princesa: princess, gracias, muñeca: thanks, doll.

miles had been distant ever since his dad died, you completely understood him (in a way) and the fact that he wanted to be there for his mother. but you also wanted to be there for him, to be able to give him the comfort that he needed.

since he had made no attempts to contact you, you decided that you were just going to his house with no invitation. you would not only fail yourself if you didn't go but you would also fail him because right now he needs all of the support that he can get.

knocking on the door, you waited until it was answered by rio morales, who you liked to refer to as tía morales. the woman looked a mess, which was understandable, her eyes were bloodshot and she had dark bags under them, her nose was red, her hands were shaking and her bottom lip was quivering.

"ohh... tía morales." you walked in, pulling the older woman into a hug.

she held you close and tightly, not tight enough to the point that it was uncomfortable but to the point where you felt the pressure, tía morales did not start to cry instead choosing to just enjoy the comfort you were offering.

you let her hug you for however long she wanted. a couple of seconds or minutes later, you lost track of time, she started to pull away slowly.

"i missed you, mija." she told you, her hands cupping your cheeks and her thumb gently caressing one of them.

"i missed you too, tía." and it was true, the woman was pretty much a mother figure to you.

"go check on our boy, i'm starting to get so worried about him." she shook her head, holding back tears. "he's been suppressing his emotions."

you nodded. "alright, i'll try to help him."

tía morales pointed at his bedroom and you walked to the door, stopping right in front of it and lifting your arm to knock.

“ma, i already told you that i don’t wanna eat anything right now.”

“it’s me, bonito.” you called out softly. “can i come in?”

there was a minute of silence and you were scared that he was about to tell you to leave when he finally spoke. “yes, come in.”

so you did. the moment you saw him sitting down on his bed, head thrown back and staring at the ceiling you felt relieved to see that he was at least looking healthy so far.

“miles…”

your previous thought changed when he turned his head to look at you and your heart broke this time. he looked pale and so tired, you wanted nothing more than to bring back the rich color of his skin and to make the happy look return to his tired eyes.

“hey..” he said with no emotion whatsoever, even his voice had a rough edge to it that you didn’t notice while you were outside his door.

“hey, bonito.” you walked closer to him and sat beside him on the bed, taking his hand in yours.

“i’m sorry, it’s been a while.” he apologized. “i made you feel alone.”

“don’t apologize, i understand.” you shook your head. “but now i want to be here for you and i think it was the other way around, i wasn’t there for you and made you feel like you only had your uncle and mom.”

“i knew i had you too, princesa. i just didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“miles, i don’t care about your appearance as long as you look healthy, you know that. you are going through a tough time right now and i want to be here for you.”

miles laid his forehead on yours. “gracias, muñeca.”

“can i stay here with you?” you asked, wanting to spend the night with him in your arms but still not wanting to intrude. it was good enough that he didn’t argue with you about you being in his home, yet you even were willing to spend the whole week with him if it would bring back the tiniest spark back to his eyes.

“yes, you can.” he nodded, raising one hand and softly stroking your cheek with his thumb just like his mother did.

after what seem like hours in the same position, his face had lost part of the tension on it, a calm expression replacing it and it made you feel a little better that you had that effect on him.

“here, mi niño.” tía morales had walked in and was passing two plates of food to you and miles.

“ma, i already—”

“thank you, tía.” you took both plates from her. “we’ll both eat it.”

the woman nodded, a smile on her face before she left the room, closing the door and leaving a 4inch gap.

you turned to miles and put one plate down on his bed and focused on one. lifting a spoonful you blew on the rice and chicken on it before directing the spoon to miles’s lips.

“say ahh.” you told him.

miles looked at you for a second before rolling his eyes and opening his mouth. “ahh.”

you put the spoon inside his mouth, and he gladly chewed the food when you took the spoon out.

grabbing food from the plate on the bed you also ate and closed your eyes at the taste of tía morales’ delicious cooking.

after miles swallowed his mouthful, you took another spoonful from the plate on your hand and lifted the spoon to his lips.

miles once again looked at you for a second but instead of rolling his eyes, he smiled showing the dimples that you loved so much.

his smile was contagious and you couldn’t help but smile as well while you led the spoon inside his mouth.

after you both finished eating you took the plates out to the kitchen and washed them before going back to miles’ room and changing into one of his shirts and shorts then laying next to him on his bed.

“i missed you so much, beautiful girl.” miles said, hugging you close. his head on your chest.

“and i missed you too.” you said truthfully.

miles nodded into your chest and you both stayed quiet for a few minutes. when you felt little droplets of tears falling onto the shirt you were wearing, you didn’t say anything. already knowing how sensitive miles was and how he preferred to cry in silence unless he spoke first.

your hand started going up and down his back, letting him know you were there and he got the message because he hugged you more tightly and sobs were coming out of his throat.

“i just miss him.” he finally spoke, his voice breaking.

this was your queue that you could speak now. “i know, bonito, i know.” you told him. “let it all out.”

“it hurts so much.” more tears started coming out of his eyes.

you needed to use all the strength in you in order to not start crying right then and there along with him instead focusing on being as comforting to him as you could, whispering sweet nothings to him and pulling him close to you.

the night went on like this and you made sure that miles was asleep before you allowed yourself to fall under exhaustion control and also fall asleep.

taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho @laylasbunbunny @onginlove @all444miles @fiannee @sp1dercunt @milesandcorysupermacy @loonalockley @miguelslefteyebrow @dxille (if you asked to be added to the taglist and you’re not on here is because your @ didn’t appear!)

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!

[mostotherthings]

The On1y One's ending is pre-empting you for a reunion, there is hope for the future

Can you believe, I sat down with my father for his advice on this. I must disclaim, I am an English-language user, but I know enough Mandarin to get by. Together with my father and Baidu, and after thinking about this for a few nights, my thoughts on that… the ending is hopeful – but bittersweet

The literature teacher starts off Episode 11 with the reciting of the poem 江城子 (Melody of a River Town) by Su Shi (otherwise, Su Dongpo) translations for this poem is taken from this site

十年生死兩茫茫。Ten years of separation by the immeasurable distance between life and death

不思量， 自難忘。  Is not something I'd like to think about, yet unforgettable it is already.

千里孤墳, A thousands miles away is your lonely grave,

無處話淒涼, I've nowhere to visit and my grief express.

縱使相逢應不識，Even if we could meet, we probably wouldn't each other recognise,

塵滿面，鬢如霜。For my faces has aged and my sideburns greyed as I have life's hardship sustained.

The teacher continues:

這就傳達了一種經過時間的滄桑 This expresses the inevitable change in the circumstances of life

再見面時 When we meet again

卻已幽冥兩隔的哀戚 We have already mourned our separation because of life and death

At this point, the teacher asks if the students understand. At my first watch, I’m going what the ever loving HECK (we were taught Mandarin for usage, not literature interpretation). My Mandarin is not even Taiwanese high school level, so I had to go study. Anyway!

The second part of the poem they do not go through in the show, is following,

夜來幽夢忽還。Last night out of the blue I dreamt of homecoming,

小軒窗，正梳妝。And there you were, putting on make-up after combing your hair.

相顧無言，Our eyes meet yet reticent we remained,

惟有淚千行。Yet rolling down our cheeks are tears forming far too many trails.

料得年年腸斷處，Then I realise we are where I'd visit year after year when my heart aches

明月夜，短松。On a night with a bright moon, on the hillock, among the pine saplings I'd stay.

Director Liu has indicated- instead of a 6 year separation according to the book (which I am TRYING to read; emphasis, trying), they have changed it to a ten year period. Su Shi wrote this poem 10 years after the death of his first wife, who died at the age of 17, exactly the age that the boys are now. It means the boys' separation, according to the poem, is inevitable. This pain, will be inevitable too, as Su Shi was known to be very affected by the loss of his first wife

Notice that the poem also states the night with a bright moon- this probably leads to the next part of the  show, where Jiang Tian tells Sheng Wang that he chooses the moon.

But the teacher follows up with asking Jiang Tian to explain what the idiom 破鏡重圓 means. (Note: when I asked my Dad his interpretation of it, his first words, 'this idiom is not for just anybody getting back together, it is meant for husbands and wives, you know that, right?' and I swear I disassociated for a moment)

Jiang Tian notes well- it is the story of Le Chang, a princess from the dying Chen Dynasty. Seeing that the country is at war, her husband Xu Deyan tells her, as she is a great beauty, after the war is lost, they are bound to be separated as she will be given or taken as a spoil of war by the invaders. He tells her that if they both survive the war, there will be a chance that they can meet again. He breaks a bronze mirror and tells her on the fifth 元宵节 (fifteenth day of the first lunar month) after the loss of the war, to bring the mirror out and pretend to sell it- he will look for her amongst the vendors, so that they will have a chance to meet again.

After the war, Le Chang princess indeed is taken away and the lovers separated. Every year on the agreed date, Xu Deyan takes his half of the mirror and goes to sell it, and as he traverses the vendors, one year he finds a servant selling the other half, and it was then that he finds out that Le Chang is now a concubine of a ranking official of the new dynasty. In sadness, Xu Deyan writes a poem on it and gives his half to the servant.

Jiang Tian continues as the light gets brighter behind him, and his explanation is the content of the poem that Xu Deyan wrote to his wife in the half of his bronze mirror

可是這個美好故事的背後 But behind this beautiful story

卻有很深的意思 There is a deep meaning

在他們無法詳見的幾十年 In the decades that they were unable to meet

他們只能看著鏡子 They could only look at the mirror

思念當初美好的對方 And miss the other beautiful partner

團員後 Even after the reunion

在鏡中 In the Mirror

我再也看不到你當初嫦娥版的倩影 I can no longer see your Chang-Er like silhouette

只留下歲月映照後  Only leaving the impression left behind by the years

淒涼的月光 A desolate moonlight

GUYS, c’mon man I’m dying at this point. This mirrors the poem that Xu Deyan wrote to Le Chang on the mirror

鏡與人俱去，鏡歸人未歸。無復嫦娥影，空留明月輝

The mirror goes away with the person, but the mirror returns without the person. Chang'er's shadow is gone, the bright moon remains in the sky (this is from Google translate, don't come at me LOL, but you get the gist)

And perhaps they are saying now, that even reunited 10 years later, it will not be the same- you and I, will not be the same, and we will have this pain of separation be an impression on our lives in the future.

The story is psyching us up for the 10-year separation coming up ahead in the nerd-iest way and I’m still dying here please

And it’s JIANG TIAN that says this, in his glasses, and wearing his vest, the curtains of the room drawn leaving only 1 source of light behind him. He takes off his glasses at the end- two lenses signifying 2 halves of the mirror, perhaps???

The ending of the story is- the mirror is returned to Le Chang princess by her servant, and after receiving it, she goes into a turmoil so deep she doesn't eat or sleep or even wash. Her new husband, after hearing the news, allows her to return to Xu Deyan. Her new husband summons Xu Deyan to the residence and the lovers are reunited, at which he says 破鏡重圓 (literally- the broken mirror, has become whole again) - could this be a hint that any opposition to their relationship will finally be relented after a forced separation?

Of course in the later ensuring conversation, Jiang Tian expresses that he chooses the moon (ie, Sheng Wang)

Perhaps like Xu Deyan, he has already made up his mind, or prepared for the inevitable separation. I will wait for you, and not only that, I will find a way that we will be back together again.

At the end of Episode 12, another Su Shi poem appears (translations from here

山頭斜照卻相迎 The setting sun (slanting) over the mountain offers greetings still

回首向來蕭瑟處 Looking back over the bleak passage survived

歸去The return in time

也無風雨也無晴 Shall not be affected by windswept rain or shine

THE RETURN IN TIME SHALL NOT BE AFFECTED BY WINDSWEPT RAIN OR SHINE and it’s RAINING OUTSIDE THE CLASSROOM (lying on the ground in a puddle, POETRY)

I’m also going to link the Baidu article for this poem (if you wish to translate it for a read), but basically, the poem expresses the author returning after a drinking session when it starts to rain, and when everyone is rushing to return and to look for shelter, he takes his time going back. The teacher continues with the explanation of this -

這些日子他被流放到外地 In the days where he was in exile

寫下抒發自己內心的文字 he wrote down the feelings he had in his heart

他表示他不會害怕 He expressed that he would not be afraid

他會勇往直前 He will forge bravely ahead

且不會畏懼 and without fear

他也很期待 He also looks forward

回去的日子to the day he will return

And here, they focus on Jiang Tian tying the broken bracelet back and pronouncing that he will wait for Sheng Wang’s return.

The rain outside the window is the beginning of the separation! The bleak passage survived from the poem!

To match this poem, the POV changes to Sheng Wang

暗戀是一個人的兵荒馬亂 To be secretly in love with someone is a turmoil (the idiom 兵荒馬亂 literally translates to soldiers in a panic and horses in a mess – the war/fortress analogy is BACKKK)

因為太喜歡你 Because I like you so much

所以我如臨深淵 如履薄冰 I feel like I am facing a deep abyss, like walking on thin ice (the pure linguistic poetry of this line, it kills me)

以至於差點忘了 to the point I almost forgot

我17歲了I’m 17

這個年紀裡 整個世界都是我的 At this age, the world is my oyster

不需要猶豫 No need for hesitation

也用不著權衡 And I don’t have to compromise

我無堅不摧 I’m indestructible

也無所不能 And there’s nothing I can’t do

And the entire dialogue ends with Jiang Tian's voice asking Sheng Wang, Can you try to pass the test and return?

And Sheng Wang says Yes

Is it the test for returning to Class A, or is it the test of the NEXT TEN YEARS?

[this-is-moony-lovegood]

Just watched a buddie edit to Call Your Mom by Noah Kahan, and I’m sitting here thinking of a plot line where Buck goes by himself to get Chris.

Like Eddie is suffering back in LA and Buck is like fuck it I’m bringing Chris home because Eddie doesn’t deserve this shit. So he gets in his Jeep and he drives 800 miles to El Paso and he shows up at Helena and Ramon’s house to get Christopher. And Helena and Ramon try to fight him on this of course and Buck is chewing them out for trying to keep Chris even thought this was supposed to be temporary and all they’re doing is pushing the narrative that Eddie’s a shitty father and that Chris should stay in El Paso permanently. And Chris wakes up and sees Buck and rushes out to him and is so scared he’s here alone because Eddie is hurt or dead, and Buck just tells him that Eddie is physically okay but it’s time for Chris to come home. Buck tells him that even if he isn’t ready to stay at the Diaz house that he can stay at the loft with him, or Buck will move into the Diaz house to be a barrier if that’s what Chris wants but he needs to be back in LA. Obviously Buck is desperate but he’s also being parental, and Chris immediately goes to pack his shit so they can go home. Once against Helena and Ramon try to fight him on it, but Buck whips out the will card and says that even if Eddie is “unfit to be a parent right now” like they say, that responsibility actually goes to Buck not them and they have a problem with that they can contact his lawyer who will promptly tell them to “fuck off”.

Then, you get the drive back to LA where Chris and Buck have a full on heart to heart about Eddie. Buck talks to Chris about how his dad knows he messed up and has been trying to work on himself to fix it, but he can’t get any better with Chris if Chris isn’t willingly to put in the effort on his end. And a Chris talks about his grief over his mom and how that’s something he thought he could handle until little things keep pulling him back in like the dating plot in season 7, and obviously the Kim situation. So, Buck suggests they go the route of talking about Shannon and what Chris remembers so they spend some time talking about her in the car. The talk about her leaving (on her own and her death), and how no one will ever replace her in his life (and how he feels like his dad has been trying to do that when he dates, but all it doesn’t bring up more trauma when they break up and they leave). “I wish dad could see that he doesn’t need to replace mom in my life. I already have two parents: dad and you.” To which Buck has to pull the car over because he’s gonna lose it at his kid calling him a parent for the first time. “You, me, and dad are already a family. Why can’t both of you just understand that the three of us is all we need?” Which gets them on the topic of implying that Buck and Eddie would be dating/married for it to solely be the three of them (and a reminder that Buck has a boyfriend), to which Chris just tells him that he already knows they’re in love with each other, so why can’t they be honest about it and have dad stop dating women and Buck break up with Tommy. Which has Buck’s head spinning because, “your dad is straight, Chris” to which Chris says, “So were you four months ago, Buck. Look what happened?” And now Buck is spiraling once again because holy shit he’s in love with Eddie and maybe, just maybe Eddie’s in love with him too.

When they stop for a bathroom break Buck calls and breaks up with Tommy. Tommy knows exactly what’s happening the moment he answers, and tells him it was only a matter of time until Buck figured it out.

They get back to LA and pull up to the Diaz house. Eddie hasn’t heard from Buck is like four days so he’s been worrying because he called out of work and he never does that, but all of his words die on his tongue the moment he sees Chris. And Chris, who has barely spoken to him in the past four months barrels his way into Eddie’s arms. And Eddie breaks down crying at getting his son back. “What are you doing here? How are you here?” And Chris replies with, “Buck came and got me. He told me it was time to come home.” And Eddie just takes a moment to think that over, lets Chris go and throws himself into Buck’s arms for a massive hug. And Eddie is practically sobbing into his chest repeating “thank you” on a loop. And Buck who is an empathetic crier, just tells him, “you know I’d do anything for our family, Eds.”

They don’t kiss or anything, but Buck and Chris make eye contact over Eddie’s shoulder with a silent agreement that they’re going to figure this out. And when Eddie is ready, the three of them are going to officially be a family.

[theofficialpresidentofmars]

the long awaited alcoholism in hamlet post! with special thanks to the undertale ball game for pissing me off so badly i needed to make this to take my mind off it.

anyway before we begin disclaimer and tw there will be discussions of alcohol, substance abuse, suicidal notions and all that good stuff that comes with discussing hamlet. onto the post

The basic idea of this take is just that Hamlet copes with the death of his father by developing a nasty drinking habit, that while he’s able to mostly overcome before the actual events of the play, we still see the tail end of and how it’s affected the other characters. The only actual specific staging this would require would be for Hamlet to drink a little excessively in one scene, and the rest is implication. It’s also an exploration of the tragedy of Hamlet’s mental health in a time where, any scholar of the play will mention, they didn’t really have a lot of knowledge about all that stuff.

As the play clearly demonstrates, Hamlet is a real big overthinker. He’s the kind of guy whose thoughts run a million miles an hour, and so in the wake of a terrible tragedy such as his father’s death, being a young man in a castle with easy access to excessive amounts of alcohol, he could easily turn to its depressant properties to numb the barb and take the edge off his usually sharp mind. And given the extent we see he’s grieving, it wouldn’t be implausible for this to quickly become a dependency.

The people in his life who care about him would be very concerned about this, especially his mother and Ophelia I’d imagine. Alcohol is something they understand, and they know the dangers of overconsumption, and given its role as a depressant it would be incredibly sad for them to watch their beloved prince lose himself, his quick thinking, his sharp wit, his charisma and charm, all those brilliantly brainy characteristics, to the numbing tendencies of the bottle. They’d be watching the person they knew and loved deteriorate before their eyes, shortly after the death of his father.

Hamlet’s not an idiot when it comes to the dangers of drinking, he knows it’s terrible for him, but at the same time there are days where he’s hoping the poison in his cup were one that worked a little bit faster. Eventually though, he decides to stop for one reason or another, although it’s likely that Claudius’s own excessive drinking habits from his partying (with none of the caution that even Hamlet exerts) disgust him enough to wean him off the taste a little bit. As we approach the events of the play, he’s managed to get his drinking mostly under control, and his loved ones couldn’t be more relieved. For a moment there, they were worried they’d have to watch the man they loved spiral into something nigh unrecognisable.

Come the events of the play, and when Hamlet is introduced in Act 1 Scene 2, he’s just a little bit tipsy. Not massively so, but just enough to get him through another session of court. His mother and uncle feel comfortable enough to tell him to his face to stop grieving (because he’s stopped drinking, which means the grief must be lessening, right? that’s how it works?), and Hamlet takes to it exactly as badly as he does in the play. After everyone leaves, Hamlet finds a glass of something somewhere and downs it (because tipsy wasn’t enough to handle that shitfest) and starts emotionally and vaguely drunkenly monologuing about how he wishes he could kill himself and all that.

Horatio shows up, and Hamlet is thrilled to see him, and despite the fact that the feeling is mutual, Horatio has been warned about his friend’s habits and is a little put off to see the state Hamlet’s in- especially when Hamlet jokes about that he’ll ’teach you to drink ‘ere you depart’, to which Horatio is visibly disappointed. Hamlet picks up on this and is a little ashamed by being caught this way, and so when he shows up next in Act 1 Scene 4 he is fully sober; and even throws in a comment or two about how much he dislikes the king’s traditions of excess drinking and partying. Just so Horatio knows he’s not actually a fan of it, and all.

After Hamlet sees the ghost of his father and is spurred to his revenge, there’s no reason for him to drink anymore- how can he, when he needs his mind clear to enact such a plan and why should he, when he’s just unlocked the one coping mechanism that’s possibly worse?

Over the next two months, the castle is happy to see that Hamlet seems to be cured of his ailment- in terms of drinking at least. He’s gone a little loopy, but maybe that’s just a phase while he gets over the dependency and if it is, then it’s surely preferable and a good thing, right?

But as we all know, it only gets worse from there.

Ophelia is the first to have it hit home. Hamlet’s maddening behaviour is both confusing and hurtful, and by the events of Act 3 Scene 3, she doesn’t know how to feel anymore. She saw Hamlet through the worst of his addiction, she watched as he spiraled into confusion and a slurred slowness, and she thought that it was the worst thing that could happen to him. When he stopped, she was so happy, because she thought he’d come back to her- but now it seems like in its place has left something worse. Hamlet is back to his quick wit and sharp tongue, but now those once charming traits that she was so in love with have been turned against her wholly, being used to embarrass her and demean her publicly by a man with the face and eyes of the one she loved but with a cruelty so new and painful that it makes her sick. And the worst part is, before she could put a finger on the problem. She knew it was the fault of alcohol, and she knew it wasn’t him, and she knew it could go away.

But this? She doesn’t know what this is. She’s watching the love of her life unravel into an entirely different person and she has no idea what’s causing it. When Hamlet was drunk, at least beneath the exterior she could still tell he was in there, and his heart and love for her were there too. But this? It’s like a genie took her wish to have what Hamlet had lost of himself restored and twisted it so that it was all he had now. The exterior is back, but she doesn’t know that he loves her anymore. And she’s confused, and frightened, and sad. (She doesn’t yet know that she sat next to the man who would kill her father, but if she had known, she might have gone mad with the knowledge.)

Gertrude is the second to have it sink in. Hamlet’s drinking broke her heart, and when she found out that he’d stopped she’d been so relieved.

And now there’s a dead man on the floor, and her son is proclaiming that he’s seeing ghosts, and the worst part about it all is that he’s completely sober.

There’s something very wrong with her only child, and it terrifies her that she doesn’t know what it is beyond madness. And madness has no cure, not like drinking does, and she would never wish her son drunk again but at least when he was drunk he was predictable. At least he was drunk he’d never murdered anyone. And Gertrude once considered watching her son lose himself before her very eyes to be among her greatest fears, but now sitting upon her bed in a trance, she’s struck by the sudden and horrifying thought that she didn’t even see it. That he’s already changed beyond repair and she was far too late to do anything about it. He’s being dragged away now, rambling on about England, and Gertrude can’t think, but there’s a cup of wine on her dresser.

This take gives a whole new meaning to Claudius’s insistence on the poisoned wine in Act 5 Scene 2 as well, and Hamlet’s continued refusal. Even if the wine wasn’t poisoned, the underlying statement Claudius is making by offering it to a recovering addict is clear, and sort of horrifying in itself, given at that point, no one else in the court seems to care enough to even say anything. Hamlet refuses without a fuss because it’s honestly the thing about Claudius he hates the least, and Gertrude takes it instead because she’s been slipping a little herself, and if she’d known it was poisoned, it would probably frighten her how little she cared.

Anyway this is just based around my thoughts on the inherent tragedy of Hamlet suffering from mental illness with no support system and no real societal understanding of how those things worked by juxtaposing it with something that they did know about in order to make it even sadder.

please let me know your thoughts as well I love hearing anything and everything about this play

[rhymey-workshop]

Feel free to skip. TW: I'm joining the military.

Growing up is really hard, and I don't think we realize that until we're on the verge of a big change, standing on the border between two parts of your life, balancing on a precipice before you take the swan dive known to many as change.

I'm packing my things. My dad finally brought home boxes and storage tubs and I'm finally packing my things, and that makes the passage of time so much more real.

I'm packing my things. My mom opened the door to tell me to watch my sleeping brother, and said nothing about the fact my room is a mess, or that I was just staring blankly at the cardboard box I just taped the bottom of. That box is ready for my craft books and paint stuff, my origami paper, my reading stand, my books on how to make stuff like children's books and animation. She made no mention of it all, just made that same pinched expression she has for weeks and then schooled her expression into something more neutral as she nodded towards the bedroom where my brother is and after a moment I got up and stumbled in, sitting at the foot of the bed to type out some kind of vent on Tumblr.

I'm packing my things, and I'm stuck between wanting to cry and finding myself unable to cry. I'm leaving home. I've been dreaming of getting out of here off and on since I was 13. At times I had a countdown of years, months, weeks, days that I had to stay, that I had to wait for the day I could finally leave. It made being angry or sad or any other complicated emotion easier. It made hardship easier to cope with. It made it easier to get through the hard times because I knew I could leave and nothing could stop me.

I'm packing my things, slowly, piece by piece, and I'm starting to understand the weight of what my dad said, when he said I was the first person on either side of my family in generations to not run away from home before turning 18. My mom left home at 17, my dad spent more days out of the house than in it as a teenager and left the god damn country. My bio paternal family has these issues too. My maternal family is full of people that ran off, that stayed away from home and didn't look back. My mom only speaks to one sister, and can't speak to her brother as long as their mother is alive. I didn't leave. I finished high school, I got my diploma, I took my time and I didn't leave before I was a legal adult.

I'm packing my things to leave home, and it's hard. It's scary. I've never been away from home for very long, and here I am, getting ready to do something more than just "Move out".

I'm packing my things, putting my life into boxes, sorting what's going to stay, waiting for me to return, what's getting tossed, what's going to get donated or given away. I keep finding things and remembering shit related to them. I keep finding things and remembering who gave them to me. I keep finding things and remembering which parent smiled when I got it.

I'm packing my things, and in a way I'm also processing a kind of grief I didn't know existed.

I'm leaving home for something I thought through for 8 months, and I'm coming up on the one year anniversary since I made my decision. It's been just under two since I signed the dotted line, swore in, and came home to congratulations and a sureness that I'm doing the right thing for me.

In 5 days, I'm going to my last meeting. Getting a send off from a group of people doing the same thing. A couple of them doing the EXACT same thing.

In 9 days, I'll spend the last full 24 hours I've got with my family, eating a fruit tart and playing putt putt. I'll say good night and that'll be the last time I see them for months at the very least.

In 10 days, I'm hiding my key on the porch and walking out the front door while everyone is asleep. They'll wake up and I'll be hundreds of miles away from them. In 10 days, I'm hopping in a big unmarked government van (and this will never not be funny to me) with like 5 other people and we're all doing the same thing. We're going somewhere and we have no idea what is really waiting for us.

In 11 days, I'm not in civilian limbo anymore. As it stands I am subject to the UCMJ but I'm not a sailor yet. In 11 days, I'm a recruit, and that's fucking dizzying to think about.

I'm getting ready to start a new part of my life and it's going to be exciting and new and I'll make friends and I'll go a couple places and I'll have stories to tell my brother and family. I think I'll be better, when all is said and done.

But right now, I'm packing my things into boxes and tubs, and right now, I want to cry.

[sympetali]

Since it seems like CRWBY is heavily hinting at big Ruby and Jaune moments in the episode tomorrow, I thought I’d share this think piece drabble I decided to write in the middle of the day a few weeks ago (haha undiagnosed adhd, am I right?)

Here’s the thing about Ruby and Jaune: I think they have one of the most interesting dynamics in the series.

They meet in the first few episodes, and they’re immediately sort of bonding about being outsiders. They don’t feel like they belong in this space: Ruby is too young and Jaune literally bluffed his way in. Jaune calls Ruby cute (this is not an inherently romantic reading of their relationship,) and sort of hints at romantic interest in her before he sees Weiss and well… we all know how that goes. Ruby thinks Jaune is kind of a dweeb, but in the affectionate “you’re weird, I like you” sort of way. It’s a very light-hearted first conversation. But beyond those surface level introductory interactions, then we have the fact that these two become the most unlikely team leaders. They both become responsible for three other people, and Ruby points that out to Jaune in one of the most prominent moments for him early on. The others being his work with Pyrrha about accepting help and his confrontation with Cardin which is like, the defining moment for him—one where he puts both Ruby and Pyrrha’s advice to work. And that alone could be very telling about how close they are. But it doesn’t end there.

Something I think that makes these two so intrinsically linked is their very specific shared grief. No one else knew Pyrrha was going to die and no one else had to see Pyrrha die. Jaune knew the minute she kissed him and ran off. Ruby, still just a 16 year old kid, had to see it. And suddenly both of them are feeling this heartache in a way no one else can understand. But they can understand each other. We don’t know if Jaune ever even told anyone about that kiss, but we do know he called out desperately to the others about her going to do something reckless (hats off to Miles Luna for that scene because holy cow,) and Ruby was already barreling headfirst into hero mode. Pyrrha’s death will play in a loop in both of their heads for a long time.

Then we have the span of time that volumes 4-6 take place in. Ruby, with no team of her own, sets off with Jaune, Ren, and Nora. They acknowledge that at this point, things are incredibly different and they’re following Ruby. Jaune takes a backseat in terms of direct leadership, but he’s still a unifying voice. He understands Ren and Nora a bit more, and I think we see that in their battles scenes. But still, Jaune so easily follows Ruby. He believes in her. He doesn’t know what it is exactly they can do at the place they’re in, but he’s ready to figure it out with her. He’s going to keep improving and he’s going to keep supporting her. I think that’s really beautiful. Their like, little reunion at the end of Vol 3 is very sweet to me. It reads very much like a ride or die, I will follow you into the dark sort of situation. Everything these characters know has been completely flipped on its head, but all they can think to do is keep pushing on. Keep moving forward. And it’s clear that at this moment in time, Ruby and Jaune need each other to do that. Yes, Jaune has Ren and Nora but he lost his partner. And we know that that loss has him pushing Ren and Nora away for awhile. He doesn’t know how to grieve with them. He’s afraid. Ruby doesn’t have her team anymore at all. Yang is despondent. Blake is missing. Weiss was forced to go home. She leans on the people she knows she still has, but we have to assume she also feels the absence of Pyrrha in that space. Everything in Team RNJR/JNR is kind of fragile. They want to pick up the pieces and do the next right thing, but it’s also very hard to do so when there’s so much they’re not saying or doing.

Ruby and Jaune have excellent little moments of casual intimacy as well. There’s a real softness between them. And again, this is not necessarily a romantic reading of their connection, but it’s not NOT a romantic reading. Jaune’s double down on his belief in her before the fight against the Nukaleve, his determination to keep her safe from Tyrion, even butting heads with Qrow (another dynamic I love to scream about,) Jaune is always just so steadfast in his faith in her. The same way that past all the teasing, Ruby’s faith in Jaune is a huge part of his confidence as a leader. Their reunion in Argus is my favorite moment between them. He is so relieved to see her alive and she just wants that moment to feel good and light so she reminds him she promised they’d see each other there. And he has to smile. And they share this lovely hug that feels so cozy and safe and like something they both needed. There’s so many important relationships and bonds in this story, but I really do think that outside of the main four, this one is imperative to the narrative. It’s one that we as the audience have literally followed since the beginning. Any way you read the relationship, they are so important to each other and their connection is a driving force in their motivations. They make each other better.

But we’ve reached a point now where these two haven’t had a lot of time with each other since they took on their own challenges in Mantle and Atlas. Not to mention the new and unique position they’re in with Jaune having aged rapidly in the Ever After. We have Ruby at her weakest mentally. She’s lost all hope. She’s feeling the weight of everything she’s learned and she’s seen and she’s done, and she’s gonna have to reckon with Jaune’s decision to mercy kill Penny on top of that? Now, I fully believe that Ruby is typically the kind of person that after an emotional initial reaction, she would sort of step back and be introspective. She would offer that understanding to the best of her ability. It would be hard no matter what, but she would see Jaune, Jaune especially actually, for who he is and why he did that and not focus on the action itself. But again, this isn’t Ruby like we know her. This is Ruby already wrecked by grief and on the cusp of just completely giving up. She might really lose it over this, and her and Jaune could have an incredibly difficult moment. Maybe even a division we see follow them for awhile. But I think that would only add to the emotional impact of their relationship. Again, they are sharing a profound grief that cannot be felt by anyone else. Ruby did everything she could to keep Penny around, and she lost her anyway. And Jaune would have never wanted to do what he did but he put Penny’s wishes first, even if that left him in a much worse state. We all love Penny and we understand her naivety in that request, but it’s hard not to at least think about the quiet cruelty of it. We know Jaune agreed because he wanted to do what he thought was best in that moment, but we as the viewer have to try to see it from all angles. He’s the one who has to live with that decision, not anybody else. And he has to know the way that might affect his relationships with other people, particularly Ruby. They are always balancing on these scales, I think. They’re trying so hard to do the right thing and when either one of them makes a misstep, it’s the other that seems to help move the weight. Now we’re in this precarious position where it could be Jaune’s actions that tip Ruby really far down. And that’s fascinating because it’s so easy to sympathize with both sides. We hurt for Ruby’s loss and we hurt for Jaune’s too. He also loved Penny, but there’s all these other layers. He had to take a life, which isn’t something he ever wanted to do, much less an innocent one: one of somebody he cared for. But also— there’s one other person who once ended a version of Penny’s life. Pyrrha. And I know deep in my bones that that thought crossed his mind. Pyrrha is always with Jaune. Literally and figuratively. What is the sword he carries, and killed Penny with, forged from?

This also draws a new and specific thread from Pyrrha to Ruby and Jaune’s relationship. Ruby knew Pyrrha didn’t mean to kill Penny 1.0. I don’t think she ever even thought about that. But again, Ruby isn’t the same person she was the first time she lost her.

Idk. Much to think about. I love Ruby and Jaune so much, individually and together, and I’m very anxious to see what’s in store for them.

[evadethevoid]

We Are Watching a Genocide on Social Media & We Are Scrolling On BY ELENA M. I. DURAN

23 OCT 2023

I saw a dead baby today

While I was sitting on the toilet

When a colleague sees me later and asks how I am

I’ll tell her fine, and I’ll smile.

I saw a dead baby today I saw a dead baby today I saw a dead baby today

The words scratch across the backs of my teeth and pinch at the flesh behind my eyes, emblazoned to my tongue and my mind

“I saw a dead baby today.”

I’ll have to say it out loud, for fear that if I don’t, he’ll be buried inside me forever.

“What?” she’ll ask

“A baby,” I’ll say, “A dead one. I saw him while I was peeing…

He was so, so tiny, and not just because he was a baby, but because he was on my tiny screen

He had ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes but no eyes,

no nose

no face at all, really

And not just because he was a baby on my screen, a baby I didn’t know, just another faceless baby

But because where his little mouth and eyes and nose should’ve been, there was only

blood

He didn’t look like the babies I’m used to

His skin was covered in powder and dust and he was too, too

still

He didn’t look like the babies I’m used to because his mother and father spoke in a language I don’t understand,

no not because I don’t speak Arabic

but because the cries of a grief that deep cannot be known by me,

the girl who saw a dead baby that wasn’t hers, on her screen,

while sitting on the toilet.”

“Oh my god,” she’ll say,

“That’s why I just can’t look at the news. It’s too disturbing.”

But me? I can’t look away.

While I walk to my car full of gasoline, sip my fresh iced water, lay on my bed in a house with walls and a ceiling

While I use the toilet

I am refreshing refreshing refreshing

I saw a dead baby today

And I thought to myself -

How fucking irreverent?

How ludicrous?

That I, freshly showered and well fed and safe, am watching parents grieve their murdered, mutilated, utterly perfect baby child

On my screen, from the bathroom?

They deserve better

They deserve not to be mourning at all, and least of all to be mourning with me, a stranger who cannot comprehend their pain through a screen from thousands of miles away,

but who feels some infinitesimal amount of it so deeply in the core of her bones that she cannot look away,

cannot bear to look at the world and smiling faces around her that just keep spinning and spinning

despite the fact that if they just stopped and looked, even just for a moment, even during their snack break or parking lot walk

or while taking a piss, goddammit,

they might also see the Dead Baby, see the mourning parents, see the thousands more just like them

and realize

that the world exists beyond their own line of sight

and what happens to Them is part of Us

and they might realize that they have to STOP poking at their computer keys

and mourn the baby, the Dead one,

who is just on their screen but who is so, so real and not out of reach if we all just came together and rose up to demand that this end…

I saw a dead baby today

And somewhere, on someone else’s screen

They will see him too,

and the headline will read “Well folks, we did it! You might think you are looking at a dead baby here, but no, this is simply a sacrifice in the name of war, and c’mon, not a baby at all really, that right there is a future terrorist for christssake, and we are shouting victory!”

I saw a dead baby today

And across the ocean someone else’s eyes have seen a hundred or more in the last two days alone

They are filling ice cream trucks with dead babies and young fathers and old women

As explosives rain down from the sky and the streets run

with rivers of blood

I saw a dead baby today

From my bathroom window that looks out on a view ten thousand miles away and

they want me to go back to work to pay my taxes

so that more and more blood will be on my hands,

and yours, too.

How is it, that we are checking the news, shaking our heads like “what a shame�� and continuing on with our silly, little, meaningless days while the world is ending for someone just like us?

How many dead babies will it take, piled up in Gaza,

before we can pay attention to

nothing else

and beg and fight for it to stop?

I saw a dead baby today

And it was the least I could do

to not look away

To bear witness to unspeakable pain

I’ll never know his name, but I will mourn him just the same

I saw a dead baby from Gaza today

If you saw him too, would you want to fight for change?

[clawbehavior]

not actually a question, but a declaration and a thanks.

I love your stories, Enantiomer is especially my personal favorite! I had a greedy moment after I finished reading chapter 3, write a comment that may or may not seem delirious bcs there were things I think I missed (I forgot which is the older twin from Gaon and Isaac), the small things like that. I decided to immediately reread the whole story and I thought, these 3 chapters are enough!

let me tell you, I always shed tears reading the 2nd chapter. chapter 3 feels like having your prayers answered/ a breeze in a very hot weather. it just feels right and peaceful, hopeful ending. the ending is enough to make me wonder how the characters will fare in the future but i have faith they're in a happy place. it's that kind of story for me.

i will reign my excitement and overflowing feelings for this story of yours as to not scare you off or make you overwhelmed with my responses here and there. thankyou you wonderful human!

i once read this beautiful post by Paulo Cohelo where he described getting a comment from a reader across the world about how touching they found The Alchemist, so he got up and and went outside and looked up at the sky. reading your comment made me understand what he meant by that, what he felt, and why he did it. 

i'm so, so happy that 'enantiomers' touched you deeply. because i also care about them deeply. like you, i felt hurt for yohan in chapter 2 and relief for their growing family in chapter 3. but as you know, being a creator means wondering if your art/story/plot/setting/characterization that you experience so richly when creating them also come across like that to your reader; if someone will be similarly moved by your story as you. and you got it!!! you picked up on all these tiny and crucial details; the differences between the twins, how kang jisang had left an impression on isaac, gahan's hyung kink, that gaon badly wanted to be loved and yohan badly wanted to give it to him. getting your comments made writing that story worth it. 

i totally agree that the fic left off on a hopeful note even if the way forwards seems unclear. strong emotions like theirs take time to fully resolve, no matter how genuine the effort behind it. but i know they get through it. gaon and yohan actively include isaac (and his little family) in their lives. they show up when things get tough, congratulate each other on their wins, push each other gently when needed, and are there for each other. isaac's whole thing with their relationship stemmed from a fear of change and losing yohan. but seeing yohan be healthy and happy and being actively included in their lives settles him. as a result, gaon feels secure too. 

actually, reading your comments made me want to write a version of this story where kim deji is alive, gahan still falls in love, and she lovingly guides everyone through that transition. it starts with gaon waiting for his train on an outdoor platform and watching trains pull in and out of the station. he makes eye contact with a university student through the glass. it shouldn't be anything big except that the young man visibly starts and says something to gaon through the glass. gaon blinks back in confusion, but the train is already pulling out of the station. the young man frantically runs the length of it inside while gaon watches. gaon sees him mouthing the words ishmael and isaac, realizes that this man knows his brother/his family and they share a grief stricken look before the train pulls away completely. 

gaon stays rooted to the platform. he misses his train. but it's worth it because yohan gets down at the next station and runs all the way back to the older man, catching hold of him. gaon can barely make out what the younger man is saying, talking a mile a minute as he is, until yohan pulls out his phone, calls kim deji, and gaon hears his mother's voice for the first time in decades. 

--

a little gift for you for your lovely comments. i will cherish them deeply. thank you. 

[writteninscarlet]

What If? ...Wanda told you she loved you? (accepting) ;; @mastcrmarksman

Clinton Francis Barton would make a lot of Top 10 lists for Wanda. For some, even Top 5.

Most annoying, worst jokes, who’d eaten the most pizza slices/doughnuts/etc from the floor…

He was also up there as a main contender for her favourite Avenger. And that wasn’t something she would be embarrassed to admit. Because quite frankly, Clint was AMAZING. He was quick-witted and though his jokes were badly timed (hilariously badly timed ha ha) and some simply were ‘dad jokes’ he was one of the few that could get her to laugh in a serious situation. Or when her depression hit hard. He was incredibly smart and talented. How he was able to make those trick arrows was beyond her. They required precision and an intimate knowledge, and credit where credit was due. And he kept up incredibly well for an archer amongst witches and Gods. He had the heart of a hero - and the bruises and x-ray scans of a stuntman. He was INCREDIBLE. He didn’t judge her - not for the simple things like being vegetarian or not drinking alcohol recently, or the bigger things and there were a LOT of big mistakes and bad choices in her past.

Clint had been there with her from her not-so-humble beginnings as an Avenger. She had taken her lead from Steve, of course. Steve was good and strong. He was a leader with a leaders confidence and soft charm. A gentleman! And Wanda had fallen for those charms and had often rushed to his defence or agreed with his plans. At the same time, Steve often seemed miles away from her.

He was just TOO good. His nature and his morals… he had his moments of course, but things seemed so black and white to him. Wanda always felt like she had to continually run to catch up with him. Steve had brought her into the fold and made her feel welcome, like family. But there was a gap.

Clint was good, too. But with Clint there came understanding and acceptance. The fact he could annoy her was actually amazing. They just clicked. She enjoyed teasing him in return, and didn’t feel abashed or ashamed about telling him off or a few prank hexes. Sometimes, because of her past and coming from the Brotherhood, she felt she had to hide her gifts or be ‘saintly’ all the time. To remain calm and without anger. Just in case it set someone off or frightened her. But the acceptance with Clint allowed her to be herself. And she loved that. The Scarlet Witch was and always would be part of her. But she felt like she was also just Wanda when around him.

The course of heroic adventures never did run easy or true.

Her actions, spurned on by grief and anger and an instability because of her powers, had massive consequences. Irreparable consequences. Her actions were a mistake and in her right mind not something she would have done - but she was still in her mind and she had made choices. Bad ones.

The pain she’d caused those around her was a scar and weight that wasn’t likely to ever go away. What she had done—- what had happened with Clint— Some may have called it a crazed and she supposed it was somewhat accurate, but she was still Wanda throughout and she’d hurt him, badly. (ended him, erased him, need she go on).

Bad choices simply to plague them. She was a chaos witch but Clint didn’t seem to need magic to lead a chaotic life (and how much was it damage she had caused?)

Past mistakes and choices were never forgotten, but neither were last feelings.

And Clint Barton was HOME.

Her mind had been shattered over and over, her life played with by others - her mind sometimes not even seeming like her own. She was regretful and remorseful and would have done anything to change events, but that was just it. The past was the past. And Wanda had learnt that some things were out of her control.

Therapy was a hard decision to make. It was admitting that there was a problem and that she was weak. But talking did seem to help. The medication helped. But she was off that now. And there were a lot of people out there who didn’t know she’d been in therapy or if they did, didn’t know she’d been on medication. She’d told Clint of course, later down the line whilst on the meds. And she’d told him about her therapists, including the one that turned out to be a criminal trying to take advantage. The therapy helped.

What helped more was HOME. A tentative and easy friendship, and then a stronger connection that they were building between them again. Wanda was glad and relieved to have Clint back in her life. There was no hiding any of her past with him for he had been there for nearly all of it. He knew her weaknesses and her guilt and her shame. He wasn’t a therapist and she had no intention of dumping her issues on him, it wasn’t fair. Not after what she’d done and because he had troubles of his own.

But it was easy to share aspects of her life and new troubles with him. And when he needed to open up, she would listen for him. He was the reason she’d ever played the game Yahtzee, the reason she’d learnt sign language, and a really big reason why she’d been with the Avengers for so long. So when Clint had an issue, Wanda wouldn’t hesitate to reach out and offer help.

It was easy to meet up for coffee or food or shopping or any activity together. So easy to pop around and see him. So easy to hug him and tease him. They had seen one another at some of their absolute lowest points, and Wanda accepted Clint for who he was and who he was trying to be. And she loved everything that he was, flaws and all. He wasn’t perfect like Steve always tried to be. He hid some parts of him but wasn’t afraid of being himself either. No big persona to hide behind around her.

When she had news or it had simply been a while, Wanda knew she could count on Clint. Quick phone call, quick message, and they’d work something out to meet. They had a few decent diners to go to now. And if he had trouble or simply wanted to speak, then Wanda would be there for him. It worked both ways.

He was comfortable to be around, he was easy to talk to, he could make her laugh and relaxed. He could completely stress her out and irritate her, too. When something funny happened or she had gossip, she thought of telling Clint. When she was sad or wanted to feel more energetic, she thought of Clint. She was happy and at home around him. And if that wasn’t love, she didn’t know what was.

Which… she maybe didn’t know. There was a lot of different ways for people to love one another. Wanda wasn’t sure she really understood love, but she accepted her feelings for what they were.

These thoughts came fairly quickly to her as she listened to Clint describe his latest anecdote, painting the scene of his heroic actions - all, probably, distractions to hide the bruise on his cheek which she could and would heal if asked. But only with consent. Of course.

She scrunched up her nose, slightly amused smile curling up one corner of her lips before taking a sip of her hot tea. Almost finished. And his coffee probably done, too. They’d been talking for some time, after all. The snacks were long gone.

It was simply the two of them in her shop. The Emporium did okay business. She sold a variety of magical objects that only those with knowledge could use, but also things available to everyone. Her main trade was the Last Door of course, so an empty shop didn’t completely bother her (though it might be nice to do good business one day). Sitting comfortably at the table with him, she’d let him go through his anecdotes - jumping in with a question or two, as well as praise but teasing and sincere. And a few scoffs as well. Emphasis some points, that was all. She completely and totally believed he’d done all those stunts. Sure.

With her cup empty, she stood to get more hot drinks but paused as she passed him.

Some feelings deserved to be shared and known. There was no expectation for them to be returned, but some things weren’t meant to be kept inside. Stood by Clint’s side, she placed a hand on his shoulder before leaning in to place a soft, warm kiss to his forehead.

“I love you, Clint,” she said, softly and sweetly. Truth warmth in her tone. And she meant those words. There was a lot of ways to love someone, and Wanda probably loved Clint in nearly all of those ways. There would be times she’d be hard pressed to think of someone more important to her. Clint was wild and impulsive, he could be arrogant and sometimes self loathing. But Clint always tried his best and Wanda could see and appreciate that. Clint Barton was a hero in just as many senses of the word as the way she loved him. And he deserved to know that she cared. Straightening up, those words were perhaps clear on her face and in her smile. And if she needed to, she’d repeat them to make sure he heard. He didn’t need to say anything back, he just needed to hear them. “I love you, and I thought I’d just make sure you knew that.”

[therealslimshakespeare]

In a very non-spoilery way....is there anything that just really haunts Ida Brady after the war? Like something that interferes with her life regularly enough that she has a rough time with it? And how does Rosie navigate that sort of thing, as someone who also understands PTSD?

Whew boy, oomph, non spoilery?

Lemme see, I bet more will come to me later as I develop more of her story but I bet that as much as she didn’t allow herself to think of it at first, she is now quite haunted by the unborn child she lost, buried somewhere in Poland under the ashes of their destroyed combines. There’d been no spare moment of leave taking, nothing at all for her to settle it with herself before she was marching, and oh how she cursed herself for the heartsick over something she tried to not be attached to. It shouldn’t have felt like the robbery and desecration it was, not after every wall she put up about it, but on then March it had dug at her with every mile she put between, until finally the cold and the hunger and the likelihood of her own death clouded the grief.

It’s really not until she’s very settled into domestic peace with Rosie that it rears its head again and she’s horrified by it, probably wondering if it’s vengeful dreams sent by God for wishing harm to it. That may be the first time she even tells Rosie she was ever pregnant. It’s a lot to unwind, and even he has trouble because you can’t reconcile why the innocent suffer so much. You just can’t, but he can remind her of what’s true, of her own blamelessness, the way it couldn’t be prevented.

But perhaps in a more day to day thing, I think that since her assaults in the train car, she really doesn’t do well with interview settings where it’s just her and a bunch of men. Barracks were different although a little unnerving, but an office like setting is too close a mimicry to an interrogation and in some of her post liberation meetings with higher ups/legal teams, she quickly finds that much to her annoyance she fully shuts down in a fight of flight response. She’s unable to focus and all strung up anticipating something she’s in no danger of. Rosie’s presence helps tremendously, as does her entering the room only after it’s been filled so she can get her bearings. She hates to be waiting for them to come, it doesn’t sit well.

[swaps55]

So, a little peek behind the curtain for anyone who might be wondering why the hell it's taking me so long to update Fugue.

I've got roughly 18,000 words drafted of what was supposed to be one chapter that is now two. Getting those words out has been an adventure.

I agonized for about a week on whether I had the right person in the right scene for a character moment, decided I didn't, then rewrote the scene with a different character. Which required giving a LOT of thought to How Does This Character Grieve.

And then I decided the scene was in the wrong place so I moved it. And now have to rewrite it again for reasons that I will elaborate on in #9 & #10

I spent a month trying to block out the right sequence of events for an action scene. I finally did it. And I hated it. It felt wrong, Kaidan was out of character, the tension wasn't high enough, and it missed the overall mark by a mile.

Had probably three rubber duck brainstorm sessions with Real Life Romance Option (RLRO) to solve this problem. Revised the scene. Better, but still didn't believe in it. Said fuck it and just moved on. Maybe the answer will become apparent as I move through the rest.

Revised the scene from #1 again now that I had written the scene mentioned in #3, because #1 theoretically resolves some of the tension in #3. But the tension is still fucked up so this scene still isn't right.

Started blocking out the next round of combat, realized that it was boring from Kaidan's POV (not his fault - the interesting action was just happening where he wasn't), and then decided I need to change it up. Wrestled with that for a few days, because writing from the POV of OCs is always a little bit of a risk and I don't do it lightly. Decided it was important and valuable enough to do it.

Problem is, I have not written this character's POV since Sam died, so I took several days to sit with THAT and figure out what the world looks like through her eyes after his death and how that would help me tell the story I needed to tell. Problem: I still didn't REALLY understand what story I was trying to tell. I knew what the basic sequence of events were, but the character growth hadn't clicked yet.

Wrote the POV, and now, some 13-14k into this part of the story, FINALLY FIGURED OUT WHAT ALL OF THIS IS TRYING TO BE ABOUT. Thank god, now at least I know what I'm trying to accomplish other than Plot.

Realize that I now need to rewrite scene #1 from a totally different POV to create the parallels I'm looking for to move Kaidan along on his grief arc.

This presents a problem, because it puts me in Kara's POV while she is solving an engineering problem, and Kara is much smarter than I am. This meant another brainstorm session with RLRO, who handed me the PERFECT solution to the problem that fixed my character problems, fixed my tension problem, would make it possible for her to be smart without me being smart, etc., BUT, it meant throwing out every single word I'd spent an entire month writing.

Because of this entirely new development, which utterly changes the dynamic I am working with, I have to rewrite #1 AGAIN (which I still have not gotten to because I just finished #10).

I also still have to do first round revisions on the rest of the damn thing, because the back end of these two chapters is really raw and needs some love.

SO THIS IS WHY IT IS TAKING SO LONG. Every time I crown a chapter of Fugue as the most complicated writing I have ever put together, another chapter says, "hold my beer."

Once these are sorted out, I have two more chapters to write plus an epilogue. I think I know what I'm doing for all of it, but because each of these chapters interlink in important ways, what I think I am going to do is just write them before I post anything new. That way, everything will line up right, and once I am ready to post again, I can do it consistently.

I am really hoping I can make some progress over my holiday break (hopefully, but no promises, because I am traveling for part of it).

I am committed to getting this story done, and regret how long it's taking, but trust me, you did not want to read what I had before I figured this out.

Boy this one has been HARD. But I'm almost there. Almost. I'm really happy with the rewrites I just finished. One more big scene to rewrite. Then it's just revisions. I can handle that.

[moralesmilesanhour]

Adding onto this actually because it just made me think of something!

Even though this is a theory let's say, for the sake of the argument, that this is in fact the reason why Miles designed his suit this way. It really drives home one of the underlying conflicts of Spiderverse:

No matter how much Miles has been through with the other Spideys, not a single person in that HQ building (or who fought with Miles at the collider in ITSV) truly knows him, either because they just met him or because they've made no attempt to (hi Gwen. Hi Peter.)

Yes, Gwen and Peter and 'nem know that Miles' uncle was the Prowler, they know on the surface that he had his "Uncle Ben moment" just like them, but it never occurs to anyone that he expresses that grief differently than they do!

If the issue with Miles' parents is that he can't tell him about the 'Spider-Man' part of him, the problem with his hero friends is that they make no attempt to understand the *human* side of him because they assume that because they've all experienced the same Canon Events, and they're all Spider-Man, that that makes them more or less the same.

(This is also part of why I think downplaying Ganke's role as his best friend was a HUUGE fumble because he is the only person who would have access to both aspects of Miles' identity, but different conversation)

This is very interesting to me bc where the first film's message was that 'anyone can wear the mask', what atsv seems to be trying to say is that 'not everyone has to wear the mask the same way' (not as catchy but you get it).

I don't even know what my thesis is here because this is such a small detail but idk...it's just so intriguing that Miles' core struggle in Spiderverse is to prove himself as Spider-Man even though his roots and influences make him fundamentally different from the other Spider-Men, even going so far as to have his suit be inspired by a villain. Who is also his 'Uncle Ben'. Crazy stuff man

No cuz you don’t fucking understand

Look at his fucking suit bro.

DO YOU SEE THAT?????!

DO YOU FUCKING SEE THAT???!

MILES FUCKING COPIED THE “fly ambiance down the side” FROM AARON’S SUIT. DO YOU FUCKING GET IT???! DO YOU UNDERSTAND.

AND THEN EVERYONE FUCKING MADE FUN OF IT.

“It looks like your bleeding from your armpits.” Count your fucking days Peter.

[damnedmisery]

【•⊱𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐘, 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐅•⊱】

I was held captive, a willing prisoner of the gloom, addicted to its weight, to the darkness like a drug. It wrapped around me like a cold and familiar lullaby. When pain is all we know and there's no other way to cope, where do we go?

The haunting memories of my last moments with my mother kept replaying in my mind, with the sound of her screams still ringing in my ears. I longed to understand what transpired, only to be persuaded by my father that he was spearheading a private investigation and would eventually find out what happened. I shouldn't have trusted him or underestimated his wickedness, he's made his own steps in erasing every memory of her. Every year he’s removed a picture of her, even replacing the old family portrait with our “new family.”

My mother was the sole person in my life who never hurt me, yet now she's gone, and I'm forced to face my father's cruelty alone, happiness will elude me as long as he remains in control. I have nothing, and I'm foolish to think there's a way out. I fight so hard, but what's the point in fighting at all? When you feel alone like you have no one. I've learned that in this life, the more you give, the more people will take without giving anything in return.

This pain is like a siren in my bones that I can no longer bear.

My gaze falls on the steering wheel, and the haze of intoxication settles in. I wish to erase my woes, but sadly, no respite exists for this suffering. I pick up the vodka bottle, dismayed by its low content. I redirect my focus to the now-green traffic light ahead.

I fight so hard, but what's the point in fighting at all?

I steadily intensify the pressure on the gas pedal. The swift flow of wind through my hair brings an intense feeling of release. In this fleeting moment, thoughts poison my mind about letting it all end here. Nothing numbs the pain, but this rush I'm feeling temporarily soothes it.

My phone rings, I feel around the passenger seat until I find it and then I swiftly answer it. My biggest regret once I hear Malik on the other end. I could also hear the sound of his horn beeping from behind me. “What the fuck are you thinking, Melina? I’m right behind you! Stop right now!”

I couldn't stand hearing the distress in his voice, as if he actually cared about me. Last we talked about my mother he compared my grief to crying over spilled milk. The person I least desired to hear from right now was him, and to make matters worse, he's now tailing me. “Go back to the party, Malik! Be their golden boy!”

I snapped at him, hopefully that's enough of a hint, but knowing Malik, I doubt he'll give up easily. “You’re just drunk, Melina! Fucking stop right now before you get yourself hurt!” Is the risk of additional harm substantial when I'm already in pain?

The more he makes demands, the more I want to defy him and do as I please. “I know what I’m doing! What the hell makes you think you can tell me what to do?” I am tempted to bring the car to a stop and express my annoyance with his arrogance.

As a matter of fact— I will.

I press my foot down on the brake, yet the car fails to stop. That’s not odd right? I attempt to remain calm, pressing down repeatedly, but still the car doesn't stop. “Malik! It’s not stopping! I’m trying but it’s not stopping!” My heart feels as though it’s plummeting into my stomach. The fear takes hold, I’m starting to feel a little helpless and Malik is my only option but all I can do is call out to him but what can he do to help with this car moving 100 miles per hour? “What do you mean it won’t stop, Melina?” His voice cracked with panic as he spoke, betraying his composure. “The break! It’s not working! I can’t get the car to stop!” With tears flowing down my cheeks, I continued to try and stop the car, but it failed to respond. The excessive speed hindered my ability to see where I was headed.

“Don’t give up! Keep trying it! Melina, I can’t lose you!“

The car slammed into something just after I heard those words, sending it spinning out of control. My body jerks left, right , back and forth. Reminds me of a bad carnival ride that’s malfunctioning.

If this is my final chapter— I guess I can’t say I’m surprised to meet such a tragic end. I never thought about dying before, but I can’t say that I’m afraid. I find solace in the thought that my mother will be there to greet me, enveloping me in her warmth and soothing my pain with a single, radiant smile. A realm where all the pain and suffering ceases doesn’t sound so bad. There’s a sudden dizziness coming over me before my forehead struck the steering wheel, rendering me unconscious.

I felt my heart sink in this ocean..so deep

I thought..how I'd love to take just a leap

To flee far away, in the place where pain ceases.

My eyes slowly flicker open, waking to a harsh overhead light and an irritating beep resonating in my ears. As I shift, I become aware of my attachment to IV’s. The spreading soreness throughout my body was unmistakable, probably best I move cautiously or not at all. A hand wraps over mine, and I realize Malik is directly at my bedside. Coming from him, this was unexpected. I initially wanted to pull away, yet a part of me didn't. Deep down I knew I needed him.

I glance away from him, seeking my father, but the only ones outside the room are two men in black, clearly security, but what's their purpose? I could have died, and my father wasn't even here. If he had just pretended to care about me, now would have been the time, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

What happened still remains fuzzy for now, and I'm conflicted about whether to feel grateful for being alive or disappointed that I survived. I turned my attention back to Malik and the worry washing over his expression caught me off guard. I was anticipating one of his usual snarky remarks, but his eyes told a different story.

“I..—“ Before I could utter a word, one of the guards entered, directing their gaze towards Malik. “Oh, I can tell you later. Didn’t know she was awake.” Malik shook his head, moving away from my bedside “Tell me now.” He made his demand, and the guard looked from him to me and then back to him.

“As requested, the car was investigated and it was confirmed that the brakes had been cut.”

An awful feeling washes over me, and my heart sinks upon hearing the news. This confirms that what happened to me was intentional, and I fell right into the trap. Why was I so stupid? How could I have failed to see this coming? I have no one to blame but myself.

Who would want me dead is a mystery, but I won't rest until I figure it out.

[pooma-bible]

Savita Manwani

Greetings in Jesus name. I welcome all on this platform to hear the word of God and be blessed.

Let us Pray: Gracious Father we come before thy throne in Jesus Name and we thank you for this moment you gave us to hear and learn from your word. Help us to understand your word and be blessed. In Jesus’ Name I pray…Amen.

Topic: The miracle at the gate of Nain

Scripture Text: Luke 7:11-17

The city of Nain lay at the eastern edge of the beauti¬ful valley of Jezreel. Three miles to the north of the city was tree-covered Mount Tabor, and further in the distance was snow-capped Mount Hermon. Nain was about twenty-five miles from the city of Capernaum, where Christ had just been. But, on this particular day, Christ headed to Nain on an errand of mercy and power.

Before Christ arrived, another visitor had already come to Nain and showed his power. The effects were visible in a funeral procession making its way out of the city.

Luke poignantly pictures two crowds meeting just outside the city gate. As Christ was approaching the city followed by “much people,” disciples as well as curious onlookers (v. 11), the funeral procession was leaving on its way to a graveyard outside the city (v. 12). What a contrast between the two groups! Those leaving the city were filled with grief and sorrow, while those coming toward the city were filled with excitement and wonder. A company of death encountered a company of life.

At the head of the funeral procession, men with somber faces carried a bier – a board with narrow sides on which lay the body of a young man. Beside the bier walked the young man’s mother. This woman was no stranger to grief. Luke tells us that she “was a widow” (v. 12).

She must have leaned on this only son after her husband’s death. Yet death, the king of terrors, had struck again, snuffing out his life as well. Never again would she hear his feet coming in the door, home again after working all day to provide a livelihood for both of them. Never again would she enjoy reminiscing with him about his father at the dinner table. He was cut off early in life.

God had created this world without graveyards. But because of sin, death now reigns all over our world (Rom. 5:14). It takes away the old, but it can also take the young, leaving emptiness, loneliness, and grief. Perhaps inwardly this woman felt something like what the psalmist expressed: “I will say unto God my rock, why hast thou forgotten me? Why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy? Psalm 42:9.

However, she would find that God had not forgotten her. This day of mourning would turn out very differently for this woman than she was anticipating. The Son of God, who had come to meet her just outside the city, would show His power and mercy in her life in an unforgettable way.

I. A Remarkable Command (vs.13)

And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her and said unto her, Weep not.”

Absorbed in her grief, this woman may not even have noticed the approach of Christ. But He comes to meet her with His Word in her need. This verse anticipates what is going to happen here.

a. Christ the Lord: Clearly, Luke wants to draw attention to Christ’s power. Peter had confessed Him as Lord (5:8), as had the leper (5:12) and the centurion with the sick servant (7:6). Now this widow would come to know Him as the Lord of life and death.

b. Christ’s Compassion: Christ was not only to prove Himself as a powerful King. He was also proving Himself to be a compassionate High Priest, who could be touched with the feeling of this widow’s infirmity (see Heb. 4:15). Christ did not turn away from this sad procession, content to revel in the attention people were giving Him. When He saw her sorrow, His heart was touched by the misery sin had brought into this world. And His heart in heaven is still the same towards needy and miserable sinners.

c. Christ’s command: Before Christ even per¬formed the miracle, He called this widow woman to live in light of it. “Weep not” (v. 13), He told her. This is remarkable; this woman had every reason to weep, and yet He told her not to. Essentially, He was calling this woman to exercise faith in Him as the resurrection and the life.

This is similar to what the Lord does to His people today. It’s not that we may not weep when our family and friends die. Even Christ wept at Lazarus’s grave (John 11:35).

However, when their loved ones die in the Lord, believers are taught not to weep as those who have no hope (1 Thess. 4:13).

The resurrection gospel needs to impinge upon all of our lives. This is what the Lord wanted the woman to know, even before He performed a miracle before her eyes. He anticipated for her the res¬urrection joy that comes when we see His resurrection power at work. The day is coming when God will “wipe away all tears” from the eyes of His children (Rev. 21:4).

II. A Glorious Conqueror (Vs.14)

“And he came and touched the bier, and they that bare him stood still. And he said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise

In the original language of this passage, Christ only spoke six words – two to the mother, and four to the young man. The most important of the words was the last one: “Arise.” Each time Christ raised someone from the dead, whether it was Jairus’s daughter, Lazarus, or this young man, He spoke, as one commentator says, with“ powerful brevity.”

It is important to notice that Christ raised the young man by speaking to him. To the skeptical onlooker, His words may have sounded ridiculous. It looks like folly to speak to some¬one whose ears death has closed. Yet death can’t keep anyone from responding to the Lord’s voice. As John 5:25 says, “The dead shall hear the voice of the Son of God; and they that hear shall live.”

Christ didn’t draw back from the bier on which the young man lay. The Holy One of Israel could not be rendered unclean by touching the bier. Instead, death was forced to retreat in the face of Him, who would hold the keys of death and hell through His death and resurrection (Rev. 1:18).

Thus this widow discovered that she could safely trust in the Lord of the widows (Jer. 49:11). Christ added to the miracle this tender touch: “He delivered him to his mother” (v. 15). He scooped the young man up in His arms and gave him to his mother again. He had been a gift from the Lord when she had received him from the Lord at his birth. Now she received him a second time, as evidence of the Savior’s power and compassion.

We read: “And he that was dead ... began to speak” (v. 15). No longer would the widow’s home be morbidly still; resurrec¬tion speech would fill her dwelling. The day that had begun with such misery and sadness turned into such gladness and rejoicing. That’s what Christ’s grace and power do.

The conquering Lord had driven away death from the young man, darkness from this widow’s life, and despair from those who lie in the shadow of death. One of those people was John the Baptist, who was imprisoned in the dungeon of Herod (see Luke 7:18-19).

Somehow, through God’s providence, this miracle reached into the prison cell of John. He would soon lose his life through the cruelty of Herodias and the cowardice of Herod. What a comfort it could have been for John to hear the tidings of Him who was the resurrection and the life.

Many others heard the reports that emerged from this miracle. The whole of this valley region was abuzz with the truth that “God hath visited his people” (7:16). The truth of Psalm 89:12 was fulfilled: “Tabor and Hermon shall rejoice in thy name.”

Life Lessons

1. The life-giving word of Christ is a message of hope in a world of despair.

2. The hope comes through His grace and compassion and His word.

3. Compassion is an indispensable characteristic of Jesus. He will do anything to help us, even if it means a loss to him.

4. Even though we may not have the supernatural gift of raising the dead, however, we can in various ways, like Jesus bring joy to the lives of many helpless persons, especially those that are desperately waiting for others to alleviate their feelings.

5. Those widows in today’s world are undergoing utter inhuman treatments need someone, like Jesus, to whisper them unconditionally and with compassion, “Do not weep”.

6. God’s love is unconditional; no one merits his love for it is a free gift to all, especially those who are most in need of it. E.g. a widowed mother, the man wounded by robbers, and a son who has squandered his father’s property.

PRAYER

Father, thank you for the compassion we see displayed so spontaneously in Jesus. We are so glad that you are full to overflowing with such compassion. Increase our faith in your love and compassion. And help us to be filled with your compassion also. In Jesus' name, I pray. Amen.