#but alas june is another month

[deanncastiel]

2024 Book #144

Title: Godly Heathens Author: H.E. Edgmon Genre: Fantasy, Young Adult, LGBTQIA+ Series: The Ouroboros, Book 1

Maybe I have always just been bad at being human because I’m not one. Gem Echols is a nonbinary Seminole teen living in the tiny town of Gracie, Georgia. Known for being their peers’ queer awakening, Gem leans hard on charm to disguise the anxious mess they are beneath. The only person privy to their authentic self is another trans kid, Enzo, who’s a thousand long, painful miles away in Brooklyn. But even Enzo doesn’t know about Gem’s dreams, haunting visions of magic and violence that have always felt too real. So how the hell does Willa Mae Hardy? The strange new girl in town acts like she and Gem are old companions, and seems to know things about them they’ve never told anyone else. When Gem is attacked by a stranger claiming to be the Goddess of Death, Willa Mae saves their life and finally offers some answers. She and Gem are reincarnated gods who’ve known and loved each other across lifetimes. But Gem – or at least who Gem used to be - hasn’t always been the most benevolent deity. They’ve made a lot of enemies in the pantheon—enemies who, like the Goddess of Death, will keep coming. It’s a good thing they’ve still got Enzo. But as worlds collide and the past catches up with the present, Gem will discover that everyone has something to hide. 

Rating: 4.5 ⭐

Quick thoughts: that ending holy jesus. that bumped it up to a 4.5 ⭐, i was going to rate it 4.25 ⭐ (astounding difference lol). Fascinating concept, interesting characters, love the dynamic between the main three, i love enzo way too much. the MCs felt a tad too teenager-y to me, especially in the beginning, but it is YA so 🤷🤷🤷

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 16: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should offer to help the travelers with their broken wagon.....

~

After much internal deliberation (and some zoning out staring at butterflies), The Adventurer decides it would be best to offer his assistance. Technically, he IS still following his goal of not getting distracted, because theoretically it would make his journey much faster if he were able to catch a ride on a carriage. So really, this is all an ultimate big brain genius strategy for maximizing efficient travel.. Or, at least that sounds like a good enough justification to him.

Gathering up all of his social courage, he approaches one of the travelers fiddling with a broken wheel near the far end of the carriage and meekly asks if there's anything he could do to help.

The man was so focused on his task, he seems initially startled to look up and find someone near him. "OH..! Oh, uhh.. help? With the wagon?", he smiles pleasantly, gesturing towards a few wooden boards that are just out of his reach, "Sure, kid. If you could just hand me th-"

"Apologies, but we actually won't be needing your assistance, stranger." A taller man, surprisingly almost matching the stature of the Adventurer, suddenly slinks out from somewhere behind the carriage, sternly placing himself like a barrier in front of the man working on the wheel. Wheel Guy nervously averts his eyes, making himself smaller, silently resuming his work.

The Adventurer tries his best to maintain composure against the weight of the tall man's bitter gaze, but can't seem to muster much of a response "Aeughh,,, uh… b-but, h- Bu--HHHh,,?.."

"Look, disregard whatever my father told you, he's old, never has any clue what he's talking about. It'd be best for you to simply move along." ('Father'? They don't look alike at all, and seem to be nearly the same age..)

"W-well.. he.. he didn't really tell me anything, I me-hhH,,.. I mean, I literally just got here, s-so...."

"Good. Even more reason to be on your way."

Placing a gloved hand firmly on his shoulder, the tall man begins to motion the Adventurer away from the wagon, but a strange noise interrupts, echoing from inside. Perhaps some sort of animal sound? Or a person faintly yelling about something? Or… both?

"WH-wHggg… whAT was t-that???!!" The Adventurer immediately stops in place, pausing to listen as the tall man keeps trying to push him ahead.

"I didn't hear anything, stranger."

"No, t-there.. was dEFinitely, UHH, a-"

"Likely something in the forest."

"Wh--aah... d.. do you think it was an animal?"

The tall man continues a dramatic struggle to 'subtly' drag him further down the road, whilst the Adventurer mindlessly digs in his heels, too distracted to even notice he's being so strongly prompted to leave.

"Many animals do, indeed, exist within forests. This should not be suprising."

"...It's just.. ..eughh… s… so weird…"

"I assure you, it is not."

"I-it really sounded like.. like it came f-from insid-"

"Yes, from inside the forest. Now, please, if you would.."

The noise interrupts again. It's definitely someone, or something, in some sort of distress.. And definitely from inside of the cart.

"wHoAAGH, aa!!! T-tHat's NOT from the f-forest, that-"

The tall man fully just shoves him now, sending the Adventurer toppling across the dirt, clumsily rolling and landing just past the other side of the carriage. A mother and young child who seem to be part of the traveling group simply stare down at him with empty blank gazes, wholly unconcerned about helping him up.

As the Adventurer fumbles back to his feet (still confused as to why he was even pushed in the first place), the tall man looms by the carriage, diligently watching to ensure that he leaves.

"Travel safe, stranger."

Despite his initial obliviousness, the Adventurer begins to piece the situation together as he stares back at the man, now fully convinced something suspicious might be going on...

…What should he do next??

~

~

~

Additional Information

the adventurer's current main quest: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has

[leandra-kinard]

The Tommy timeline is making me insane

We know the 911 writers are REALLY crap about timelines. I mean, just within the Eddie Begins episode there are several dates that just don't add up. I love those writers, but they can't even count to 10, lol.

Tommy was never supposed to come back, so him being in his late 20s-ish in 2005 when Chim joins the 118 was of no consequence, but now that Tommy is back, that makes it really difficult to say how old he really is.

Some people have speculated that he's 45, but I find that too old. Lou was born in Nov 1984, which makes him 39 currently. I could see Tommy being 1-2 years older than that AT MOST.

So let's say Tommy was born in early 1983 and go from there.

He would have started school at 6.5 and finished HS at 18 years old in 2001. Which means he could have joined the army that year and started training to be a helicopter pilot.

There's a program called "From Street to Seat", also sometimes called "High school to Flight School", so that is a possibility. Training would have been around 2 - 2.5 years until he'd achieved the rank of Warranty Officer and be a fully trained helicopter pilot in late 2003. After that, you have to enlist for TEN years at minimum to repay them getting you through flight school.

At that point, the US had entered the war in Afghanistan and just started the one in Iraq.

Tommy could have been stationed anywhere in the US, or been deployed to one of those countries, or at first, as a still very young officer, been deployed to an allied country like Germany. In the early 2000s, there were many bases in Germany where US soldiers were stationed, only serving short missions in Afghanistan or Iraq. So that's an option if we don't want him to be permanently stationed inside a war zone.

Now, how did young Tommy leave the army early so he ended up being a firefighter just two years later?

Well, there's always medical discharge, but if it was for any injury, him already being a member of the team (and by the looks of it no longer a probie) in 2005 is a bit tight. He'd have to recover from his injury, then apply, then be accepted, do the basic training at the academy (18 weeks) and his probie year... so yeah, that's really a very tight timeline.

Another option would have been Don't Ask, Don't Tell. Back then, army members could not be actively asked if they're gay and therefore fired for it, but if they voluntarily disclosed/confirmed it, they would be kicked out.

If he was lucky (and probably the version I'm going for in my fic), and had a very lenient superior officer, he might be offered medical discharge for depression. Usually, that can get you out of the army pretty quickly.

So, to recap:

Born between Jan/June 1983

Finished high school summer 2001, joined the army

Finished flight school in fall 2003, was deployed somewhere or in service in the US

Found out/discharged in early 2004

Started LAFD academy in summer/fall 2004

Started his probie year end of 2004

Just finished it when Chimney joined in (should be late) 2005, at now 22 years old.

Still an incredibly tight timeline, and I wish Chim joining had been more like 2007 or so, but alas. It works.

You are welcome.

And I need to lie down. God I hate inconsistent timelines, lol.

Oh and I just looked it up, and apparently you're only a probie for 6 months at the LAFD, so I guess that makes it a little easier.

I mean, if you shift things around a little, you could even make him only 40 now, born in summer 1983 instead of early. Maybe he was initially gifted and able to enroll in school at just barely 6 years old.

[kydrogendragon]

Hi! I was thinking about Dream dating Hob because a wager with Death. Time passes, Hob can't believe Dream is interested in him/his experiences, but he is so happy, he has so much to live for. Until he finds out about the wager and... He is ok with that! He tells Dream that he thinks they made the wager because Dream was lonely, and it's ok because he was lonely, too. But Dream doesn't hear him, he is so offended, he says "You dare..." and he storms out. Time passes again and, I don't know, there is a happy ending, of course.

Third prompt for the day! This one was fun to write. I feel like it could easily be it's own multi-chapter fic cause it's a real fun concept, but alas, I have too many wips as is, so we'll take the bite-size version :P

Thanks for the request!!

Relationship: Hob/Dream Words: 2293 Warnings: None Ao3 Link

“You know, your sister told me about the wager,” Hob says, looking down into his water glass. Tonight was he and Dream’s six month anniversary. They’re tucked into the back corner booth of the Italian restaurant just down the road from Hob’s own apartment. The place was a pricier one, yes, but Dream had talked about missing their carbonara last week and Hob wasn’t about to let his boyfriend suffer a moment longer without it.

Hob remembers when Dream first approached him in the White Horse back in June. He’d been relaxing with some of his coworkers, celebrating the end of term a bit late, when the most breathtakingly pretty man approached their table. He looked like he’d stepped out of some sort of fantasy novel, like he was the Fae Prince himself. And then those icy blue eyes of his met Hob’s and Hob knew he was done for.

Dream had asked if Hob meant it when he’d claim to know true love the moment he first saw them. Hob had just smiled and said yes. Because he did. And the moment he and Dream’s eyes locked, Hob knew that he was going to love that man. Hob said just as much, which earned him a hearty eye roll at the time. But Dream had said he’d meet him there, at the White Horse, again next week if he’d meant it.

So, of course, Hob had gone back in a week’s time and found the handsome man sitting near the fireplace, nursing a glass of wine. They’d chatted, well, Hob chatted, Dream listened. Hob went on and on about his life, his work. He talked about his friend and family, about his childhood and the new TV show he’s been obsessed with. Then Dream asked him, a few hours later, if he still meant it. If he still thought Dream was his true love.

And Hob said yes.

They continued meeting once a week, which shortly turned to twice a week, then sometimes even sooner, depending on each other’s schedules. Most of the time, they met up someplace in the city for dinner or drinks. Dream had taken him out to the park to feed the birds, which quickly became a common date for them. Then, Hob invited Dream back to his, and Dream said yes. They didn’t do much, just relaxed, watched a movie and ordered take-out, but it was a change in their dynamic. And over the course of those few months, Hob could see Dream relaxing more and more.

The Fae-like man had always seemed overly tense. He carried a weight in his shoulders and his stance that looked just moments away from crushing him. Hob had resolved himself to doing whatever he could to ease some of that stress away from him. And over time, it seemed to work.

The first time Dream had kissed him, Hob thought he’d died and gone to heaven. It was a hesitant thing. They’d been relaxing on Hob’s couch as they had for week by this point. Perhaps they’d had a few more glasses of wine between them than they usually would and maybe sharing a blanket was just an excuse to be close to one another. Dream had turned to him with a look in his eyes that Hob had seen many times before. It glinted with fear, but hope. Then Dream leaned in, slowly, giving time for Hob to back away. Then those rosebud colored lips were finally on his own and it was wonderful. Hob was addicted in just one go.

They didn’t kiss much after, much to Hob’s disappointment, but the times they had felt like magic, but that kiss changed their dynamic. Hob found that Dream was more open to hugs or cuddles in the evening afterwards. He’d even gotten the man to lie his head on Hob’s lap which quickly became a favored position. Hob loved it too. It gave him a chance to just run his fingers through that kitten soft black hair of his. Then six months had passed which felt like forever and also no time at all. If Hob ever doubted his love for this man before, these past months solidified it.

Dream’s sister, Death (a very odd name, but his boyfriend’s name was Dream so who was he to judge?), had tracked him down at the White Horse a week back, which is how he’d found out about their initial wager. She hadn’t told him intentionally. She’d assumed Dream had explained things (he hadn’t) so she’d taken the liberty to explain the situation.

Hob’s pretty sure she thought he’d be angry about it. And yeah, sure, it was a bit of a surprise to hear that Dream had only continued to meet with him after that night because of a dare. But the more he thought about it, the less he really cared. It brought Dream into his life, after all. How could he be mad about that?

Dream looked up at him from over the top of the fancy leather menu, his eyes wide. Hob shot him a smile to try and ease whatever thoughts are running through his boyfriend’s mind. Dream looks back down and slowly closes the menu, setting it in front of him on the white linen tablecloth. He takes a breath before he speaks.

“And what did she say of the wager?” His shoulders are pulled back and his face is carefully masked. Hob knows this posture well. He’s preparing himself to be hurt. The notion makes Hob’s heart ache, so he extends his hand, tilting it upwards just in front of Dream. He doesn’t reach for it, though Hob can see his gaze dart to his open palm.

“Well,” Hob starts, tilting his head down to try and see Dream’s face better. “She said you two overheard me and my boasting that night at the pub. She also said she thought maybe I’d fall in love with you at first sight, which you apparently, and I quote, rolled your eyes so hard she thought they’d get lost in your head.”

Dream rolls his eyes, but Hob spots the twitch of a smile. “She said you thought that was ridiculous and that even if I thought you were striking, I’d soon grow tire of you.” His voice trailed off, softening at the end. Dream swallows, his jaw clenching. It was a fear of his, Hob knew. Dream never said so, not in so many words, but he said it through his actions. Through his carefully constructed face of neutrality, through the fear and the hope that radiates from his eyes when he does something he thinks Hob would dislike. In all the small actions and tentative steps, Dream’s made very clear the fears inside his heart and Hob’s sworn to himself to love each fear away.

“And have you?” Dream asks, his voice quiet.

“No. Never. Told you, one look and I know. I knew. That night, I knew.” Hob replies instantly. He can see the slight shimmer of a tear down Dream’s cheek as he closes his eyes. Dream remains, stiff in his chair, hands in his lap. “I’m glad you made that wager. That your sister made you keep hanging out with me, dating me. I think it’s been good, for both of us. I think… I think maybe she pushed you towards me cause you were lonely. That you needed someone to show you you were worthy of love.”

Dream’s eyes dart to his, a mix of surprise and fury in his face. He’d seen many emotions from his boyfriend over the past six months but anger was rarely one of them. Frustration, irritation, sure, but the way his lip is snarling and his nostrils are flaring, this is true anger. Hob shifts, lifting his hands up in a placating gesture. He rewinds the conversation, combing through each sentence trying to figure out what it was that earned him such a reaction.

“You dare?” Dream spits. “You dare to know how I feel? You dare to claim that you know me? To know my heart so?”

Hob blinks. “Yes,” he replies, utterly confused at how this conversation has so drastically shifted. “Yes, I do.” Dream huffs as he tosses the napkin in his lap on the table and stands. Hob’s up on his feet as Dream stalks away, following after him. “Dream!” He calls after, weaving between the tables and the onlookers. He was suddenly glad that their waiter had been taking a while to get to them.

Dream storms out the doors into London’s pouring rain. He stomps down the sidewalk as Hob rushes after. For as thin as the man was, he walked faster than Hob would have expected. “Dream, Jesus, just-just wait, please!” He calls against the rain. His boyfriend’s steps stutter, and it gives Hob just enough time to close the distance. He grabs onto his shoulder and spins the other man to face him.

His inky black hair is soaked already, just seconds into the downpour. Hob doubts he’s much better. It sticks to his pale skin. The rain coats him completely, Dream’s eyeliner already beginning to run. Hob feels the flutter of adrenaline under his skin, afraid that one wrong move and he’ll lose this dramatic wet cat of a man that he so desperately loves. He needs to tackle his carefully, thoughtfully. Hob needs to treat Dream with a calm hand and a gentle touch.

“What are you so afraid of?”

Not what he should have said. Dream’s brows furrow, the scrunch of his nose and the sneer of his lips already beginning to paint his face. Hob tightens his grip on his shoulder, his other hand moving to hold Dream’s wrist. Dream tugs, but Hob doesn’t relent. He stares into Dream’s reddened eyes as he speaks.

“We’ve been dating for six months now. Today’s our anniversary, in case you didn’t know. And maybe I don’t know you completely, but I feel like I’ve got a pretty damn good grasp on you. I know that you hate the mornings, not because it’s early, but because your favorite bookshop doesn’t open until ten. I know that you take your coffee with more sugar and milk in it than actual coffee, but you’ll drink it black in the presence of others because you think it looks better. I know you choose each word you speak with such a meticulous nature than I can’t even begin to fathom because words are important and they mean a lot to you. I know you worry about the amount of bread the pigeons and ducks in the park eat, which is why you always make sure to get the special feed mix from the farm supply shop, even though it’s a half hour drive to get to. I know that you overthink each action you take because you’re afraid of how I’ll react. And I know, from tonight, you think that if you push me away first, then you think it might not hurt as bad as if I pushed you away instead.

“But guess what, Dream? I’m not letting you go. Not if you don’t want me to. Not if you love me even just a sliver as much as I love you. Cause I do. I love you, Dream. Have since that day you first walked up to me. Told you that. It hasn’t changed. If anything, I’ve just fallen even harder for you since. So you can yell at me, you can push me away, but I’ll still be here. Forever loving you. Just like I promised you six months ago.”

Dream stares at him, the anger falling from his face and morphing into a pained expression as Hob talks. The adrenaline has started to fade from his veins, leaving Hob tired and shaky. Dream doesn’t say a word, he just stares and with each passing second, fear begins to creep in. Is this how it was going to end? Six months in and that’s it, all because Hob dared to say he understood the man in front of him.

Then lips are on his and there’s a pair of hands clinging to the flaps of his jacket, pulling him ever closer. Hob melts into the kiss, his hands falling to Dream’s waist. It’s an awkward kiss, their noses are jammed against each other, but his body is warm against Hob’s and he’s holding him close and Hob hasn’t lost Dream. That’s the most important thing.

They part, panting against each other in the pouring rain. Dream’s icy blue eyes peer into Hob’s. He’s so close. He can make out all the individual lines of color in Dream’s irises. He can see rough edges of his eyeliner and the bits of mascara that cling to his lashes. He is a work of art, not that Hob’s ever thought otherwise, but here, as the golden glow of the restaurant’s lights reflect against the trails of tears and raindrops against his pale skin, Hob wishes he could take a picture and keep it forever.

“You are a ridiculous man, Robert Gadling. Impertinent. Foolish,” Dream whispers against his lips. “You could have anyone.”

“I could,” Hob replies. He moves one hand up, cupping Dream’s cheek. He rubs his thumb across the chilled skin. “But I want you.”

“A terrible choice,” Dream says, kissing him once more. Hob’s eyes drift shut as he loses himself to the warmth of soft lips dancing with his own. They’ve a long way to go, Hob thinks to himself. But he’s a hopeful man and a determined one. And he plans to spend as many lifetimes with this ridiculous man in his arms as he possibly can.

[guitarloser444]

🦇— Letters From Above || ghost! Eddie Munson x fem!reader || ch.1

Summary— It’s been 3 months and 14 days since the earthquake struck, since your boyfriend went missing. Today you got to read a letter. Every letter had a corresponding day and today you got to read one.

Warnings— ANGST. One mention hinting at sex, and swearing.

a/n— I haven’t wrote fanfics in a long time so this shit probably sucks. I didn’t proofread it!

Word count— 2.4K

June 11th, 1986.

It had been two months and fourteen days since spring break. Life hasn’t really felt the same. Things hadn’t gone back to normal, not since the earthquake that struck the town, destroying bits that were your childhood. The small mom and pop ice cream shop, family video where you’d bug Steve and Robin every friday after school for the same movie, the convenience store where you’d bought your first box of condoms for you and your first boyfriend. The boyfriend that had gone missing in the wake of the earthquake without a trace.

Were you surprised? No, not particularly. You’d go missing too, knowing the entire town was hunting you down for a murder you know you didn’t commit, and the people that loved you knew you didn’t commit. But alas, you still missed his smug grin when he’d try to cop a feel up your shirt or laugh at you when you’d end up in detention for saying the wrong thing to the wrong teacher. Eddie was your everything. And now? Now your everything was gone and you couldn’t help but hug your pillow tight at night and hope when you woke up it would be him you were clutching in desperation. 

While the town was trying to get back into a normal routine, you were stuck in the past. Every day, day after day you would rewatch the same movies, eat the same food, drink the same drink, laugh at the same dumb shows, wear his shirt, listen to his music and cry. Time didn’t occur to you, all while everyone else seemed to move on. And you loathed the fact everyone was getting on with life again. 

Eddie’s funeral was met with criticism and protest. You, Wayne, and the small group of friends Eddie had made showed up for it. All those friends… jesus! Even they were moving on. Wayne had left town, he couldn’t bear to face anymore hate.  You were the only one who changed the flowers out on his headstone, and the only one who took care of the trailer. You and Dustin cleared it out shortly after Wayne had left. Everything in Eddies room was split 50/50 between the two of you. Eddies electric guitar came with you. His acoustic went to Dustin. The clothing wasn’t anything special, but you and Dustin sorted through it as best you could and chose who got what and what could be donated. The hardest task came when it was time to sort through the music. Mix tapes upon mix tapes upon mix tapes. Dustin took a lot of the less heavier stuff, and you took all the heavy stuff. Dustin specifically requested the Master of Puppets cassette. You were okay with that, although confused why he was so adamant on having that specific album, but you wouldn’t protest. 

When you were finally done clearing the bedroom out, you sat alone in the room for a long while. It only struck you that you hadn’t yet cleared under the bed. You crawled to the bed and began to rummage around underneath the bed, pulling out an array of items. Two of which were your bras you had been looking for. That cheeky fucker! 

One thing under that bed in particular stood out. A box, sealed with a lock. You stared down at the box. You rattled it, and it sounded like paper rustling together against one another. Odd, why would Eddie lock these up? You found pliers, and pried open the lock. When you opened the box, and peered your eyes in, there were enough letters to fill an entire wall in a bedroom. You looked down at them, focusing on your name throughout multiple letters. Were these what you thought they were? Love letters? They couldn’t have been but after you read two, you were certain they were. Each one was marked down by a date, the last date being the day before Eddie was accused of killing Chrissy Cunningham. 

When you got home, you marked down each date on your calendar and told yourself you could read the letter that corresponded with that date. Today was one of those days. You looked at the letter, it was marked June 11th, 1985. Slowly reaching for it, you trembled. You always trembled when you got to read a letter. You slowly unfolded the crumpled letter, and began to read.

June 11th, 1985.

I asked Y/N to join hellfire for the new school year next year. I know it’s probably not going to happen but I am hoping she will. I mean— she’s visited me a few times during work and seemed interested enough when I spoke to her about it in the past… 

Y/N also attends Corroded Coffin’s weekly gigs at the hideout, something I admire. She’s supportive, and makes me feel so unbelievably overwhelmed with love and admiration, but how do I even tell her that? I mean what girl(especially a girl like y/n) would want to go out with me? I’m a Munson, hated for who I could become, not for who I am. 

I have been debating asking her out to a movie or going to see some shitty gig in the city over. I wish I could have taken her to see Metallica in Chicago back in February. W.A.S.P opened for them, it was amazing.

Anyways, that's all. Maybe one day, one day soon.

That one day soon was actually soon, you two ended up getting plastered a month after this letter and ended up confessing everything to one another while sitting on the steps of his trailer. It had been a depressing day, your father and mother kicked you and your brother out. Thank god between the two of you and with the help of your grandmother, you managed to get a month's rent for a trailer in the same trailer park as Eddie and when Eddie helped you move your things in, the feeling of liking him bubbled to the surface. You had liked him for a long time but suppressed it in an attempt to keep things steady and safe but then you just… let it slip off your tongue. 

Reading this letter made you cry like a baby. You did join Hellfire but stopped because work was more important and the last memory of D&D was Eddie letting you write his campaign for November of ‘85 that would last a month. He wanted to work on his campaign for the new year himself. 

You wiped the tears from your eyes and sat up. The house was quiet, and you hated it. The sound of silence made you squirm, and made you even more sad then you already were. Usually, the silence would’ve been filled with Eddie's voice, or the sound of the tv playing his favourite show or something along those lines. Sometimes, on odd days, you’d get to listen to his angelic voice play his acoustic on his trailer's porch in the dead of night… Oh how it made your heart swell. 

Then, there was a crash. A loud one coming from beyond your door. You looked at your door, frightened by the sudden noise. Your brother wasn’t home, and all the doors were securely locked so what could it have been? 

Carefully, you pulled yourself out of your drab state in your bed and walked quietly to your bedroom door, half expectantly ready to die at the hands of an intruder. You opened your door, and peeked through the crack. There was nothing, and that seemed to only upset you more than you already were. “Hello?” Your voice rang through the house, echoing off the walls. “Is someone there?” 

And there he was, standing in your kitchen.

It made you freeze up, astounded at what you were seeing. Were you going crazy? You had to be. No way he was right there, staring at your bedroom door with blank eyes, replacing the once chocolate brown eyes that you’d stare into for hours at a time. His left cheek was cut, a large cut that left some hefty blood on his cheek and lips. His face was as pale as the moonlight. His body was covered in those gashes like the one on his cheek, his shirt and jacket were ripped from the gashes. Whatever caused them wanted him dead. Blood stained his hellfire shirt and left little spots of blood on his jacket. His pants too, were ripped and his bandana seemed to be the only clean part of him. 

You fully opened your door and stood still, staring at him for a long while without blinking once, scared if you blinked, he’d be gone. 

“Eddie…” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “What… What happened?” You inched closer, but he backed away in distrust. You stopped in your tracks, letting him back himself into your fridge. 

And then he was gone. He was gone just like that, in the flash of a moments notice, he was gone. Something in you broke, and choked you into a thousand broken sobs that echoed through the house. You sat on the ground infront of your door, and when you could finally breath once more, you called the only person you knew could comfort you in this lonely time. Dustin.

“Hey…” You muttered helplessly into the phone. “Do you mind coming over for a bit? Its cold in my place, and I just bawled my eyes out. Want to come to my place, order some pizza and hang out…?” You said, twirling the cord around your finger.

“Yeah, I need to get out of the house for a little bit.” Dustin sounded peppy, and that made you smile, even so slightly. “I’ll be there in a half hour?”

“A half hour is too long, I’ve had a shitty night Henderson and I need to just vent. I’ll come pick you up.” Your voice was firm, and he responded with the go ahead to do so. 

The drive to Dustins only took you a couple minutes before you were outside his home and waiting for him in the car. You were fiddling with your keychain hanging from your rearview mirror when he entered the vehicle. “Hey.” Your voice was quiet.

“Hey?” He was confused, a deep line formed between his brow. “Everything alright?” “Uhhh–” You put a hand over your mouth as you shifted your car into drive. “Not particularly, no.” You said, sarcasm plaguing your voice. “Quite the opposite actually.”

The rest of the drive was quiet, even the walk up to your trailer. The tension was so thick you probably could have sliced it with a knife. You placed your keys on your hook and closed the door behind Dustin. He turned on his heel to look at you. “Alrighty, what is up?” He finally broke the silence. “You seem… off.” 

You threw your hands in the air. “I know I’m off!” You sighed and stomped your way over to the kitchen and pointed to a broken plate on the floor. “I didn’t do that.” 

“Okay…” Dustin rose a brow. “So your brother did, so what?” He looked at the plate. 

“It wasn’t my brother, Dustin!” You stomped your left foot on the ground like a child, angrily. “It was Eddie!!” You looked up from the broken plate, and looked at Dustin.

“... y/n.” He sighed and started to pick up the broken shards of glass. “It probably fell from the slam of the door or something. Eddie’s dead.” Dustin seemed annoyed with you now. “He can’t just throw things around when he’s six feet under.” 

“I saw him, Dustin! Listen to me!” Your eyes were wide, tears threatening to spill over. “He was standing right here! Where I’m standing!” You said, and re-enacted what happened. “When I tried to move forward while he was standing here, he backed up into the refrigerator and then disappeared!” You looked at Dustin, your brows furrowed in frustration. 

“Listen, y/n, I'm pretty big in believing the unnatural but this is physically impossible! He’s dead!” Dustin frowned and looked at you as he slipped the glass in the garbage can. 

“He had blood! Gashes on his cheek, on his body, on him! His hellfire shirt was stained with blood, and he was wearing his bandana! He was wearing an army green jacket and jeans! I know my own boyfriend Henderson!” You looked at Dustin, he looked mortified at your description of Eddie. 

“Listen, I—” Dustin was thrown off guard when the phone rang. You went to answer it, and nothing. Not a peep on the other line, just some distant groaning. You hung up. “I think your brain is trying to make up a scenario to come to terms with Eddie’s death, y/n.” 

You turn your head around to look at him and frown. “Whatever, lets just drop it.” You walk to the fridge to get a cold beer, not wanting to deal with his bullshit anymore. You flopped on the couch and stared at the blank TV screen. You sighed and got up, grabbing a VHS you could watch with Dustin. 

Dustin came to sit on the couch with a handful of chips. He looked at you as you pushed the VHS into the tape deck. You sat back on the couch and looked at the tv. You then looked at Dustin. 

“He hated this movie.” You said, and looked at the screen with a smile. You shook your head and sighed, rubbing your face. “He would always beg me to turn it off and turn on something less grotesque.” You smiled and shook your head. “He was a pussy.” Dustin looked at you, and smiled. “Yeah, you’d expect him to have been more in love with horror, being eddie n all…” Dustin shook his head, laughing. “God you’d be so wrong.” Dustin sighed and looked at you. 

Your eyes were misty, and it urged him to scoot over and hug you tightly. The rest of the night, you two held each other in a friendly embrace. Dustin had no feelings for you, but understood how lonely it could get without someone to hold. When the movie finished, you were half awake on him, looking at the TV barely, your eyes fighting to stay awake. This was Dustin's signal to shake you softly and help you up to bed. You smiled at him when you laid down in your bed. “Sorry I couldn’t drive you home…” Your voice was quiet. “There's blankets for the couch in the bathroom linen closet…” You mutter and drift off to sleep, leaving Dustin alone.

The next morning, Dustin had already left and now you were alone in your home once more, your brother was in the city for a few days. You woke, it was freezing in your bedroom. Sitting up, you see him once more but instead of speaking, you welcome the silence for once. 

“Hi, Eddie.”

[isekaisyouwithmyforearmlaser]

Hi. hate to be posting another donation post but im in a bad place. please only help if you can if you cant thats ok obviously im just at a point where im exhausting every outlet i have to get help.

cashapp is $pikman2, paypal is taylor.l.lockrem@gmail.com, my venmo is @funkymuscle

TLDR im poor and raise my little sister alone and my car broke down and im sick with strep throat and i have no way to get to my second job (my first job is doordashing so im out of half of my income entirely) and i am broke as fuck rn. im really just pressed about rent cause i need to keep a roof over my head and i can go without electricity /water if it comes down to it. i have food with assistance but no toilet paper so we are using pillow cases that i wash rn. literally any little bit helps. my rent is 1,300 , my electric is behind so its at a total of 600, and i already got "assistance" with that.

more context: my mother and father are dirt poor/out of the picture/unwilling to help, i raise my little sister alone and i already have a really hard time asking for help cause i am like hyperindependent but i lost my sales job because 1. sales sucks and also 2. my boss made a "work meeting" at a bar mandatory and ended up cornering me and stealing my phone, hr didnt care, and the situation was more complex than that but i clearly dont work there anymore. im a CNA now but cant do full time until my little sister is out of school for the summer which is at the end of this month. i start my 12 hr shifts from the 9th of june onwards but for now have part time hours and i doordash to make ip the difference. my car is totally beyond repair, ive had it since i graduated in 2017 and every 1 problem requires you to fix 4 other problems. literally if i had a car none of this would be a problem cause im this close to finally catching up on my bills, but alas. im also very sick rn like my throat feels like i gargled on a bag of rocks. i dont have insurance which isnt a surprise to anyone. im pretty much estranged from the rest of my family because theyre all super political and of course towards the right so me existing is like their least favorite thing.

i CAN take the bus TO work, but id have to walk 2 hours home, alongside a highway that crosses the mississippi that someone got beheaded on last year trying to do the exact same thing. i think im different though and nothing bad would happen to me so thats my current plan. i have no way to get my little sister to school and the school doesnt provide busing at all for where we live.

again, any little bit helps. even 10 dollars i can at least get medicine. thank you

[serial-serializednovelreader]

Nova’s Notes - Dracula Daily - June 30th

✨Happy (belated) Shovel Day!!!✨

“These may be the last words I ever write in this diary. I slept till just before the dawn, and when I woke threw myself on my knees, for I determined that if Death came he should find me ready.”

Jonathan is pulling no punches by starting off reminding us that this may be his last day on earth. It’s telling that he woke up just before dawn came up (though I wonder how he slept at all….hmm….). I also love that while he ended his last entry on his knees in despair, he starts this entry on his knees — determined. I wonder if he was going to try to fight Dracula — futile though that may have been, but first wanted to adopt a less aggressive pose to lull him into a false sense of security. Or, perhaps, he actually was just ready for this to be over.

Once morning comes and he realizes he’s safe, he immediately runs to the great door. After all, it was unlocked yesterday, right? Alas!

“With hands that trembled with eagerness, I unhooked the chains and drew back the massive bolts.”

“But the door would not move. Despair seized me. I pulled, and pulled, at the door, and shook it till, massive as it was, it rattled in its casement. I could see the bolt shot. It had been locked after I left the Count.”

It’s not often that we see Jonathan describe himself in detail when he’s in a heightened emotional state. Before, when he found out he was imprisoned, he described his frantic state going door to door. But this time, we see the eagerness of trembling fingers turning to frantic despair. We see him shaking the door until it rattles. And it hurts more than before. Because this was truly the only easy way out. Now what is he to do?

“Then a wild desire took me to obtain that key at any risk, and I determined then and there to scale the wall again and gain the Count's room. He might kill me, but death now seemed the happier choice of evils.”

It’s Lizard Fashion time once again. And he doesn’t even care if he dies facing the Count! He’s willing to confront him head on because at least it’ll be a faster death and he’ll see it coming. With the sisters, he’ll have to wait until nightfall and who knows how long they’ll draw it out? No, this way is better to him, this way he has a choice. And it’s his choice, mind you, not the Count’s. Just another play on that “of your own free will thing”…

He makes his way as before, not really pausing to check his surroundings because:

“I knew now well enough where to find the monster I sought.”

I love this line and I feel it’s worth putting in here because it sounds so raw, so…viscerally angry. Yes, he’s tired of Dracula and willing to die at his hands, but he’s not going down without a fight. And he won’t go down without calling him a monster either.

“There lay the Count, but looking as if his youth had been half renewed, for the white hair and moustache were changed to dark iron-grey; the cheeks were fuller, and the white skin seemed ruby-red underneath; the mouth was redder than ever, for on the lips were gouts of fresh blood, which trickled from the corners of the mouth and ran over the chin and neck. Even the deep, burning eyes seemed set amongst swollen flesh, for the lids and pouches underneath were bloated. It seemed as if the whole awful creature were simply gorged with blood. He lay like a filthy leech, exhausted with his repletion.”

So this is what Dracula looks like freshly fed. He must’ve fed a lot too to look this bloated and youthful from one drink. It is very likely he doesn’t have to feed as often as the women — maybe once every two months or so (which would make sense given his time with Jonathan and we haven’t seen him feed at all in that time). It’s notable too that Jonathan feels no symptoms of fatigue or sickness from this feeding — symptoms we will get to with another character. Perhaps it’s because he’s strong and healthy, or maybe he’s ignoring any noticeable symptoms because he’s running high on adrenaline (honestly the more likely option).

As he searches for the key and actually has to feel Dracula up (a horrible experience for Jonathan, I imagine), he looks at the creature to find:

“There was a mocking smile on the bloated face which seemed to drive me mad. This was the being I was helping to transfer to London, where, perhaps, for centuries to come he might, amongst its teeming millions, satiate his lust for blood, and create a new and ever-widening circle of semi-demons to batten on the helpless. The very thought drove me mad.”

Jonathan, ever the unselfish man, is thinking of the bigger picture. He figures this box with Dracula must be going to England and then to the property Jonathan found for him so long ago when this was just a job for him: Carfax. Once again, Dracula’s talk of “your own free will” comes into play here. Unwittingly, Jonathan has given Dracula everything he needs to set up Vampire City in England of his own free will. And while he doesn’t directly say it — I don’t think he can because writing it down would make it real — Mina is in England too. They will not be near each other: Carfax is in Purfleet and Mina is in Exeter (approx. 200 miles away, so that would be about 5 hours by train), but I imagine for Jonathan, this is still too close for comfort. And it’s very likely, as Jonathan figures, that Dracula will use his army of “semi-demons” to not only drink more blood, but expand further and prey on more people. It won’t stop in just one place. And even if Mina were far away and safe from this, it still doesn’t change the fact that this creature will prey on the helpless for longer than Jonathan would ever feasibly live. I’ve noticed that Jonathan never really repeats himself in any one entry, but he’s so angry here that he starts and ends this passage with remarking how Dracula’s facial expression and these previous thoughts are driving him “mad”. He’s being driven past the point of all reason.

“A terrible desire came upon me to rid the world of such a monster. There was no lethal weapon at hand, but I seized a shovel which the workmen had been using to fill the cases, and lifting it high, struck, with the edge downward, at the hateful face. But as I did so the head turned, and the eyes fell full upon me, with all their blaze of basilisk horror. The sight seemed to paralyse me, and the shovel turned in my hand and glanced from the face, merely making a deep gash above the forehead.”

Shovel time!!!!!! It’s a true testament to Jonathan’s strength that even the paralyzing power of Dracula’s stare isn’t enough to stop him completely. Yes, he can’t land a killing blow, but I wonder if anyone who has dared try something like this (I imagine the number is very few) has even managed to land a gash as he does? Judging by the lack of scars on Dracula’s face, I doubt it. But now he has one — a “deep gash” on the forehead. It’s sad that Jonathan calls it “mere” when in reality this a great feat! Though I understand when you go from trying to permanently end someone’s evil reign, only making a glancing hit on their forehead will make it seem that way in comparison. :/

The shovel falls out of his hand onto the box and as he’s picking it up, the “flange” of the shovel (aka, the wide part where you put your foot, according to this blog), catches the lid and it falls. Coincidence? Somehow, I doubt it. That’s a weird happenstance in my opinion; it’s hard for me to imagine the shovel just “happening” to catch the lid. Another trick of Dracula’s? Perhaps. The last he sees of Dracula is a malice-filled grin on a bloated face.

That’s when Jonathan hears the Szgany and the Slovaks coming once more. He runs up to the empty room, determined to try to get down to the great hall where they must be entering from as soon as possible. However, they’re not entering from the door he thought — indeed, they seem to be going down to the passage he was just in…

“I turned to run down again towards the vault, where I might find the new entrance; but at the moment there seemed to come a violent puff of wind, and the door to the winding stair blew to with a shock that set the dust from the lintels flying. When I ran to push it open, I found that it was hopelessly fast. I was again a prisoner, and the net of doom was closing round me more closely.”

Yet again, Jonathan’s hopes are dashed. I wonder if Dracula knew to close the door when Jonathan left the vault, or just shut all the doors when the Szgany and Slovaks got there. Either way, it’s chilling that yet another way — another hope — has been snuffed out. Jonathan isn’t talking of despair anymore, but of doom.

Then Jonathan describes hearing the people work on the great boxes and hearing them leave, going off into the distance. He even notes hearing Dracula’s box be nailed down!! It must be agonizing for him to hear not only people freely coming and going from the castle (which he doesn’t blame them for, of course), but to also hear your captor making his way out of the castle too! Not to mention the knowledge of what will happen once said captor is in England…

I suppose Jonathan could have tried to Lizard Fashion his way back to his room and search for that secret entrance they used to get to the vaults. But who’s to say Dracula didn’t find a way to lock his room as well in that time? He could’ve tried to shout for help, but we saw what happened the last time he did that. Plus, I think Jonathan is so mentally and emotionally exhausted at this point that all he can do is rest for a second and probably write what he’s hearing in the journal.

“I am alone in the castle with those awful women. Faugh! Mina is a woman, and there is nought in common. They are devils of the Pit!”

Jonathan, that is such a beautiful sentiment. Love that he can’t bring up the word “woman” without thinking of his lovely Mina! And yeah, she doesn’t have anything in common with those women — he’s right. I’m sure nothing will change about that in the coming months…*insert Hbomberguy’s “foreshadowing is a literary device in which —“ bit* (I’m sorry, I had to)

He states his intentions to go out in Lizard Fashion one more time, but further, taking the gold from the Count’s room. He’s not going to remain here any longer, waiting for the women to get him. (And I do wonder now if he had been turned into a vampire: would he have had to take care of the women in Dracula’s absence, or are they just allowed to free roam now? Questions to consider…I partially remember the answer, but I won’t spoil)

If he does get out the first thing he’s doing is taking a train (I’m sure he’s not thinking of Mina when he writes that, but I kind of hope he is lol) and getting away from here — “where the devil and his children still walk with earthly feet!” Hardcore line and very true.

“At least God's mercy is better than that of these monsters, and the precipice is steep and high. At its foot a man may sleep—as a man. Good-bye, all! Mina!”

Telling that he brings God up in the next line to contrast what he believes to be the devil’s influence on the land. It’s all he can cling to at this point. Even dying on a cliff is a more peaceful “sleep” than dying (or being turned) by those women. And of course, he will die as himself, not as a creature, though he imitates one with the Lizard Fashion. I wonder too if it would almost be better in his eyes to die on the cliffs; because, if he succeeds, he’s also successfully imitated the monster. But if he dies, well, it’s almost more proof he’s a man. I realize it’s a bit strange to compare these things when obviously he wants to make it back alive, but I do wonder if he struggles at all internally with how well he’s done with imitating the Count’s Lizard Fashion and perhaps he worries — just a tiny bit — if he’s becoming a little less human every time he does it? Irrational as that may seem, I can understand why he would have that struggle if he is indeed having it.

For the second day in a row, he ends the entry by referencing those closest to him and the last word in his diary — which he believes might forever be his last — is Mina. I wonder if he scrawled this in emotion, or wrote it very delicately, hoping for it to be forever preserved. Either way, I am not ok about this.

Good luck on your lizard fashion journey Jonathan, we love you 😭😭😭💔 thanks for gashing up the Count’s forehead before he left!

[tavina-writes]

Ningningverse Progress Report: Part 2

Part 1 of the progress report is here.

Well! I'm a few days late for March Progress Report as well, however, as evidenced by my uhhh 48k JYL/WRH fic which is over here, I appear to have spent most of the month of March losing my mind and writing yet another beauty and the beast retelling (which is something I really adore doing and I had a BLAST), so I'm actually pleasantly surprised that I have progress to report at all!

According to my calculations, in the month of march I wrote approximately 8.5k for this fic, which, after some tallying, was quite surprising! I didn't realize I did that much!

Needless to say, I think at the earliest (unless I get a huge burst of inspiration and time to work on this project) I'll be looking at starting to post Ningningverse on AO3 in the time between August and October of this year. June appears really out of the question, which, I'm sad about, but alas, there are only so many hours in every day. :( such is life.

[ghostofasecretary]

ok, let's keep this quick

- so like. i haven't had a day with No Obligations since the 18th. that's 10 days. tomorrow and the day after i'm working. i need A Break because i am Tired

- aaaaaaaah grad schools why do people keep telling me i'm cool and promising and they're enthusiastic about me and then i DON'T GET MONEY (or. well. i turned a place that gave me money down because of a potential supervisor leaving)

- i have so many loose threads. emails unanswered for months. i spent a fuckload of money on some stuff with the intent to make it back and Have Not Taken Steps to do that which is crappy, actually!! feels REALLY BAD! all the time bad! bad for months!

- i fucking hate letting things fester and my whole day except for poetry and a text convo has been festering

- which feels like a microcosm of my fucking life. which is unfair, probably, but. ya rab

- i straight up just? dissociated almost all the time between 6:30 and 10am??? that's not great!

- my job is getting me money, yay, but it's part time and also i keep going wildly between "i am winning" and "i'm so miserably bad at this and probably no one wants to work with me i keep fucking up i hate myself" and "hey now stop beating yourself up" and boredom and misgendering and "Holy Shit Man I Hate Your Politics So Much but i do care about you as a person! so! guess some of the Christianity stuck!!! hahahahahaha fuck my life"

- i don't know if i can a) get a job and b) move in time to maintain the illusion that grad school worked out for me but 1) i need to move yesterday, i haven't hugged a friend since fucking January, and 2) i was really hoping August would work out and i don't want to work longer. my whole year has been "well maybe i'll get answers and know what i'm doing next month!" and by year i mean. since. like. december 2023. although Applying To Grad School sure ate all of my energy for a long fucking time. so i'd LIKE to get a job and move in late August/early September. but also holy shit man

- i feel some duty to myself to still apply for more grad school jobs but i haven't had a spare afternoon with emotional support since. like. the first weekend of June. (i have had mornings with emotional support (thanks babe)) but i have been mostly using those for homework (and fugue states of misery (sorry.)) so, like. aaaaaa??????

- i'm so mad and scared and also, like, i don't have TIME to be mad and scared, i'm behind on things and also this is my short and precious life! there's people to talk to and good food to eat and nice clothes to wear and fiction to read! i don't want to waste it being upset! i've been upset since 2022, basically, and i'm really fucking tired of it!!!

- what if nothing ever works out and i'm broke forever and rely on my parents like my sister does and am an even worse resource drain and they don't get to retire and I DON'T MEET MY SELF IMPOSED DEADLINE FOR. LITERALLY 40 MINUTES FROM NOW.

- and tomorrow i have/want to be fucking chipper at people! because goddamn it, i actually genuinely want people to have their days be a bit more pleasant from interacting with me and i like running a smooth ship! when i'm not making mistakes, which i make more of when i'm tired and upset!! gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

so. that's a lot of self-loathing and fear and frustration. uh. i don't know that this. resolved anything, aside from me saying the crazy out loud (and yes, i DO KNOW where the crazy is, but going "well don't be crazy" to myself is deeply unhelpful since it turns into another beating stick so. alas)

but i guess now i'll. work on my goals????

[ms-m-astrologer]

Transiting Venus enters Gemini

Thursday, May 23 - Monday, June 17, 2024

This is a pleasant, sociable transit; Venus is chatty and flirtatious. Then you remember that Venus is the esoteric ruler of Gemini and realize there’s more going on here than batting our eyelashes.

As Ruth Hadikin wrote here:

At Soul level Gemini is ruled by Venus. Once the activity of Mercury has expanded our perception, we are open to the activity of Venus through the heart center. This brings a spiritual awakening in the form of a deep sense of communion and connectedness with all sentient beings. There is an awareness of Love, not as an idea, but as a living energy which permeates and radiates throughout all life. This shift in perception brings us to the realization of our interrelatedness with one another and all living things.

Sounds like a plan to me (playing “Higher Love” by Steve Winwood on a loop). As for Venus’ areas:

Art - the spoken and printed word, of course. And singing. With Gemini’s rulership of the hands, we appreciate deft touches and cleverness. We especially like it where there is more than one “meaning.”

Beauty - youthful, unstudied, not a lot of makeup usually. We’re spending too much time in our own heads to care much about current fashion.

Love - say the word.

Money - some Geminis can be downright misers. There’s not a lot of planning for the future. We’re more apt to fritter away our money on lots and lots of little items that grab our attention - and add up. Stay out of the bookstore!

This isn’t even one month - alas - so have some fun with it, and don’t take life overly seriously. Talk and listen. Each of the following could be in effect for a day before and a day after:

Saturday, May 25 - Venus/Gemini trine Pluto Rx/Aquarius, 1°59’. Powerful stuff - maybe just between our ears? (It’s an air sign trine.) Underneath all the flirtatious banter lies something more profound.

Saturday, June 1 - Venus/Gemini square Juno/Virgo, 10°40’. It’s like we don’t feel like committing, rather than something our partner does. And covering that with a lot of criticism and nagging.

Sunday, June 2 - Venus/Gemini sextile North Node/Aries, trine South Node/Libra, 12°43’. Got to watch out for “going along to get along” - if we’re paying attention, we can clue in about how/where we do that.

Tuesday, June 4 - Venus/Gemini conjunct Sun/Gemini, 14°29’. This of course is a pleasant, sunny vibe - but it’s also the Superior Conjunction between Venus and the Sun, the halfway point of their cycle.

Saturday, June 8 - Venus/Gemini square Saturn/Pisces, 19°02’. Can be lonely. We’re being asked to make Venus a bit more mature in her approach, and if we fail to do so (or fail to at least try) we find ourselves hurting worse, and probably doing all kinds of shady, sketchy Geminian mental contortions to justify our failure.

Tuesday, June 11 - Venus/Gemini sextile Chiron/Aries, 22°40’. Good time to apologize. Relationships require communication, which this sextile assists, if we make the effort.

Thursday, June 13 - Venus/Gemini sextile Eris/Aries, 25°22’. Activists can express themselves verbally - and in such a way that we want to hear what they have to say. Like Errol Flynn cracking wise whilst sword fighting with Basil Rathbone.

Sunday, June 16 - Venus/Gemini square Neptune/Pisces, 29°52’. Disillusionment. Sour grapes. Drowning in self-pity. Realizing that love is an emotion, not a theory. There will be a lot of distractions, most of them self-imposed.

[7grandmel]

Blog Update - 16/06/2024

TL;DR: My 1-month break is over! The blog is returning but with a slower rate of posts. New forms of posts will start rolling out soon as well - scroll down to the bullet-point list for details.

Hello all! I've been receiving some asks and questions in the request form wondering where I've been this past month. Rest assured, I've been fine. With Athletic Doctor back in May, I reached the one-year anniversary of doing this daily-rip-posting thing, and today, June 16th, marks the one-year anniversary of this blog's existence as a whole with Snowball Park - Super Mario 3D World. Because yeah, for those first 30 posts I didn't do this as part of a blog, but as a daily activity for my own personal Tumblr account on @melblur. If you compare the word counts on those first few posts (the "First 30 Archive") to the posts made later in the blog's run, you'll likely be able to see how my focus in writing evolved, going from mere shoutouts and recommendations to full-on retrospectives and analysis. That was a large part of why I chose the blog's initial name as "Tumblr's SiIvaGunner Historian", there's something about regaling these oft-forgotten events in the channel's history that just invigorates me, a passion that kept me doing this for a year straight. What began as nothing but a laid-back writing exercise to keep my mind sharp became something that, on some days for rips that I was truly passionate about, drew my FULL undivided attention for an entire day's worth.

You saw the TL;DR, and you can probably tell where this is going. By the last few posts, I was noticing myself that this really isn't sustainable to keep doing at a daily rate. I've worn that pace as a badge of honor for so long on here: In my mind, it just made so much sense for a blog celebrating SiIvaGunner, a channel partially defined by its insane rate of uploads, to also do things at such a high pace, with so many references to past posts interconnecting them all just like the many in-jokes on SiIvaGunner itself. But this blog isn't a network of a hundred team members and a thousand contributors - aside from the requests on what to write and footnotes left by a rip's creator, everything made on this blog has done solely by its writer, me, Mel. I loved it - but I do think its about time I slow things down.

I was as torn on this choice as you likely are seeing it - after all, it's called "TODAYS siivagunner" for a reason, right? I was toying around with how to resolve this as far back as in March of this year, tossing around ideas and concepts as to rework the blog to be more feasible whilst still preserving its spirit. The April Fools prank, the legendary Raftmageddon of Raft Ride ~ The Story So Far, was sort of an offshoot of this, a day where posts were more rapid-fire than ever yet were all contained to just five or six sentences each: Short, snappy, concise, and even pretty casual and silly a lot of the time. And that was really fun for the sake of the bit, it again fit with the nature of Raft Ride the same way that my main posts sort of fit with the nature of standard SiIvaGunner uploads, but I realized even then that it wouldn't be a good fit for the blog's main posts - the things that make both you and I most happy as readers and writers respectively are when I get to truly get down to the meat of a rip and explore its contents and history to the fullest.

A month went by quicker than I thought it would, but alas, here we are. A lot can change in not so much time - I'm currently employed, for one, which is yet another reason why daily posts feel far less feasible, but I'm also spending my time expanding my interests, listening to albums, reading books, watching shows, talking to new people...I want this blog to keep going, but I also don't want to use it as an excuse for my own lack of growth as a person. And so, I've landed on a compromise that I hope will satiate all of us. Here's the current plan for the blog going forward:

Rip coverage will be going from daily to weekly, posted every Monday starting tomorrow, June 17th. In return, the goal is to make these posts as well-written and interesting to read as possible.

Requests for these posts will still be taken as normal. I'll of course try to prioritize requests from people who haven't had theirs featured on the blog yet, but keep in mind that it's still up to my judgement if I'll be able to have enough to say on a rip (or know enough about a rip's topic) to warrant writing a post on it!

New, more laid-back kinds of posts for the blog will be featured in the days between rip coverage posts - these will be a lot simpler in nature and made ~2-4 times a week depending on my schedule. Here are some examples of posts I have in mind!

GIFs and image sets from the channel's various visual rips and/or lore videos! Think the Christmas Comeback Crisis, the KFAD Tournaments, the Festival events of Season 4, 5 and 6, legacy content posted on the SiIvaGunner Twitter account, and more!

Character appreciation posts featuring all sorts of characters from the SiIvaGunner lore! Celebrate the figments you love with all twelve other SiIvaGunner fans on Tumblr!

Trivia about the channel, which I'd otherwise sneak into main posts, may get small little posts in of themselves! This can be anything from Did-You-Knows about how in-jokes have been carried on during the channel's life, to easter eggs and references, to fun tidbits about rippers themselves.

Shitposts! Goofs! Stuff I'd otherwise reblog under the #epic flintstones tag, basically.

Miscellaneous text posts related to the channel, such as Guides, summaries, or just whatever various thoughts I have!

All of these will have their own tags dedicated to them, just like #todays siivagunner - what tags they end up being is still up in the air and may change even as the posts are rolling out. Either way, the blog's pinned post will be continually updated with all the relevant tags and info about the blog - keep an eye out on it during next week.

Whew! That's a lot of stuff covered. I hope you're as excited for the second year of this blog as I am! Hopefully the greater variety of posts will help with the longer wait between "main" posts. The goal is, as you can imagine, to keep the blog a fun read for you all and just as much of a fun passtime for me, whilst also easing my own workload enough to make it manageable. I love running this blog more than anything, and I'm hoping this new schedule will give me more energy to make better posts - Maybe I'll even get a chance to interact with all of you even more by discussing more than just per-rip analysis.

Thanks for reading everyone - That SiIvaGunner Tumblr Blog will officially be back tomorrow!

[ridenwithbiden]

The track record of “citizen forecasting” of U.S. presidential election results is sort of startlingly good.

Are you still scouring the internet for new polls and routinely checking polling averages hoping for fresh reassurances but finding precious few?

Are you poring over daily turnout reports from the Secretary of State’s office – and scanning news on turnout in other battleground states too – hoping scattered gobbets of inconclusive information will alleviate your angst, even though it is just as likely to aggravate it?

Maybe you should stop doing those things.

Alas, if you’ve read this far, you might be one of those souls – the highly engaged voter – for whom polling and turnout data at this point in an election cycle are like an automobile accident or a burning building: looking away is hard.

Sorry.

But there is a thing which, while it can’t rid you of your anxiety and fear and Sturm und Drang, might at least add a different perspective to it.

Yes, of course it’s another poll.

Or more specifically a series of polls.

Sabato’s Crystal Ball, a long-time highly regarded political handicapper connected with the Center for Politics at the University of Virginia, on Wednesday summarized a series of polls conducted during this election cycle that asked respondents not who they will vote for in the presidential election, but who they think will win.

Why? Let’s let the Crystal Ball gazers explain:

“A growing body of evidence indicates that ‘citizen forecasting’ (CF)…makes for more accurate predictions of the winner. Indeed, studies of CF in the United States and the United Kingdom, as well as work on other democracies (such as Canada, France, or Germany) have demonstrated that voter expectations outperform voter intentions in terms of predictive accuracy.”

In other words, “wisdom of crowds” is a thing that’s a thing.

The Crystal Ball’s first survey asking respondents who they thought would win the 2024 presidential election was conducted way back in April, 2023, when Ron DeSantis still looked like a going concern, and when a lot of people hoped Biden wouldn’t run after all (he officially announced his reelection bid near the end of that month).

In the April 2023 polling, 52% of respondents said they thought the Republican candidate would win the presidential election, and 48% said the Democratic candidate would.

The second round of polling wasn’t taken until a year later, in April 2024. By that time, poor DeSantis had been vanquished, Nikki Haley had distinguished her resume by finishing second to “none of these candidates” in the Nevada Republican primary, and the main thing Democrats were saying to each other was “whoa, Biden’s super old but we are stuck with him and we are doomed,” or words to that effect.

Everybody, or almost everybody, assumed it would be a Trump-Biden rerun of 2020. Asked who they thought would win the presidential election, 50% said Trump, and only 38% said Biden, with a mysterious “someone else” or the Kennedy oddity picked by the rest.

The Crystal Ball’s project concluded with a wave of four polls in June, July, August, and September-October.

The June survey, conducted before the June 27 debate that crushed Democrats’ souls and would ultimately end Biden’s candidacy, indicated a close contest – 46% said Trump would win, 42% said Biden would.

The next survey was conducted July 20-22, a week after Trump’s ear got grazed in Pennsylvania, and coinciding, though only partially, with Biden’s announcement he would step aside (June 21). It was the only one of the polls in the series taken after the debate debacle and while Biden was still in the race, and not surprisingly 54% said Trump would win, while only 32% thought Biden would.

The project’s next polling was conducted between August 20-26, about two weeks after Harris had secured the nomination and otherwise astounded a lot of folks by turning out to be very much more of a boss than was widely thought. The script was flipped: Harris would win, said 56% of the August survey respondents, compared to 40% saying Trump would.

The fourth and last wave of polling, between Sept. 20-Oct. 2, had Harris at 55% to Trump’s 42%.

“This current citizen forecast points to a Harris victory in November,” concludes the Crystal Ball’s “Last Sounding” summary published Wednesday.

“Of course, close races are hard to call,” the summary adds, and citizen forecasting isn’t perfect. The Crystal Ball mentions the elections of 2000 and 2016 as examples.

In both those elections the person who won the presidency lost the popular vote. So this year’s surveys, in addition to asking voters who they thought would win, specifically asked them who they thought would win the electoral college, and the majority still expected a Harris victory.

And on the whole, the track record of citizen forecasting of U.S. presidential election results is sort of startlingly good.

The Sabato Crystal Ball and the American National Election Survey combined encompass a record of citizen forecast polling that stretches back to 1956. In every presidential election since then, “whenever the expectation percentage has exceeded 50%, as is the case with the Harris-Trump race, the forecast of the presidential winner has always been correct,” states the summary released Wednesday.

While the most recent polling in the series was conducted roughly a month before Election Day, that’s been the case throughout the history of the polling series, the report adds.

So Democrats can … take a breath?

Fat chance.

What might be considered a variant of citizen forecasting – betting markets – are also often viewed as being a more reliable predictor than traditional polls, and they indicate a much tighter race than the Crystal Ball citizen forecast, with Harris ahead in some, and Trump in others. (There are also segments of the presidential betting market indicating a generous advantage for Trump, though that may not reflect the wisdom of crowds as much as the machinations of crypto-bros.)

About the same time the last polling in the Crystal Ball series was being done, the Cook Political Report also asked voters in battleground states not who they were voting for, but who they thought would win. Harris was ahead in that poll too – 46% said she would win, compared to 39% for Trump. But that’s below the 50% benchmark history cited by the Crystal Ball.

And even given the aforementioned impressive historical track record of citizen forecast polling, if any modern presidential campaign cycle in the modern era has already proven to be wildly different from all the others, it would be this one.

In other words, let the Democratic hand-wringing continue.

Harris would probably approve. She seems like a leader with a zero tolerance policy for complacency.

[ninja-muse]

May seems to have stretched itself. I measure time partly by books read, and several of the books I read this month took me more than a week, which is unusual but non-fiction and classics will do that. This was balanced, of course, by me proving my ability to read an entire book within 48 hours, which happened a couple times, and so May also felt kind of liminal?

I read two books off my TBR shelves this month: Evelina and The Book of Margery Kempe. Margery is technically a reread, though, since I was assigned it in university. I picked it up because I wasn't feeling historical or cozy or queer or any of my other normal reading moods and I remembered it being the right sort of bonkers. Which it was, but I'd forgotten how much Margery goes on about God and his plans for her and how much more pious she is compared to everyone else. It got a little wearing, and I don't think I'd have liked her much if I'd met her. But I'm glad I reread it!

(My current reads are also brought to you by not knowing what to read next. Thank goodness that I have a stockpile of 200+ unread books at any given time.)

You will also notice there was yet another book haul this month. In my defense, I had a gift card and company access to a discount book supplier, and then my boss got excited about the James Patterson book and wanted everyone to have a copy. Unsure whether I'll actually read it but hey.

I also did pretty well with my physical ARC haul, in that I broke even, and had a DNF. The Book That Wouldn't Burn was more grimdark than I was expecting and failed to hook me on characters, plot, or world. Alas, because it was recced by a coworker. (The other ARCs hauled were digital. I need to get to at least two of them in June so stay tuned.)

In other news, I attended not one, but two cultural events on my own this month! I used to do this more regularly but then 2020 happened. It's only in the last year or so that I've really started going out to things again, and I'm not actually sure if I'd gone to anything alone until now. In any case, the history lecture and the symphony concert failed to do me in, so I might keep going.

Click through to see everything I read this month, in the rough order of how glad I was to have read them.

Evelina - Frances Burney

Evelina travels to London and learns that the only thing more distressing than suitors is her newly discovered family. Inspired Austen.

9/10

warning: misogynist society, xenophobia (against French people)

off my TBR shelves

The Demon of Unrest - Eric Larson

The story of the six months leading up to the American Civil War, complete with weak governments, echo chambers, and political grandstanding.

9/10

warning: racism, slavery, war

reading copy

The Butcher of the Forest - Premee Mohamed

Veris is ordered into the north woods to find the Tyrant’s lost children. Inside are tricks and monsters. She has one day.

8/10

🇨🇦

library book

Baking Imperfect - Lottie Bedlow

A cookbook that encourages bakers to embrace mistakes and imperfections.

8/10

library book

The Teller of Small Fortunes - Julie Leong

Tao is a travelling fortune teller content with small fortunes, but she can’t help being drawn into bigger things when she meets a thief and a mercenary seeking a lost child. Out in November.

7/10

Chinese-coded protagonist, Chinese-coded minor characters, Chinese-American author

reading copy

The Mars House - Natasha Pulley

A ballet dancer fleeing climate disaster finds himself a second-class citizen on Mars. Fortunately—or not—a xenophobic politician needs a husband to raise their polling numbers.

7/10

🏳️‍🌈 main character (queer), 🏳️‍🌈 major character (ungendered), major character with prosthetic leg and PTSD, major Indo-Martian character, largely ungendered society, largely Chinese society

warning: xenophobia, police brutality, riots

library book

The Forest of Vanishing Stars - Kristen Harmel

A woman surviving in the Polish wilderness puts her knowledge to use aiding Jews escaping the Nazis.

7/10

largely Jewish cast, author with Jewish heritage

warning: Nazis, antisemitism, the Holocaust, kidnapping, death of child and parental figures

library ebook

The Honey Witch - Sydney J. Shields

Marigold becomes her grandmother’s apprentice as honey witch, even though it means never finding love. Unfortunately, there’s a very pretty woman in her new town who doesn’t believe in magic.

7/10

🏳️‍🌈 main character (bisexual), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (lesbian, pansexual), Black secondary character

library ebook

The Monstrous Kind - Lydia Gregovic

Merrick returns to her family estate following the death of her father. She expects to take up the fight against the fog and the Phantoms (and her sister), but stranger things are afoot. Out in September.

6.5/10

dark-skinned secondary characters

warning: child abuse, fire

reading copy

Picture Book

A Crocodile Should Never Skip Breakfast - Colleen Larmour Crocodile’s late for his job as a ferry so he skips breakfast—but then he gets hungry while carrying animals… Out in June.

Reread

The Book of Margery Kempe - Margery Kempe

The memoirs of a 15th-century Englishwoman who is sometimes proud, sometimes pious, and definitely determined.

warning: marital rape, antisemitism, violence and torture, possibly mental illness stigma

off my non-TBR shelves

DNF

The Book That Wouldn’t Burn - Mark Lawrence

A girl ripped from her desert home and a young man trapped in an enormous library find themselves in the crosshairs of destiny.

library ebook

Currently reading

A Bouquet From France - Wilfred Thorley, translator

A collection of French poetry from Middle Ages to the 1920s.

off my TBR shelves

Steampunk - Ann and Jeff Vandermeer, editors

A collection of steampunk stories, old and new.

warning: misogyny, child abuse

off my TBR shelves

Music from the Earliest Notations to the Sixteenth Century - Richard Taruskin

A history of early written European music, in its social and political contexts. The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle

Victorian detective stories

disabled POV character (limb injury), occasional Indian secondary characters

warning: racism, colonialism

Monthly total: 9 + 2 Yearly total: 51 Queer books: 2 Authors of colour: 2 Books by women: 8 Authors outside the binary: 0 Canadian authors: 1 Classics: 2 Off the TBR shelves: 2 Books hauled: 4 ARCs acquired: 6 ARCs unhauled: 3 DNFs: 1

January February March April

[anima-nostrae]

can you post a teeny tiny snippet of the next chapter pretty please

I feel extremely grateful that someone would want to read something I'm writing while also going down to my Tumblr to ask for a prevew.

Like, wow. Honestly.

But first I would want to inform about the state of the fic. Of course I will finish it (it's not long, therefore there shouldn't be a problem). Alas, I have a problem of another source: my academic validation (lol).

But honestly, I am currently nearing the end of my first year of my graduate programme, and it is literal hell. I have, as of the current count, nine exams and six written assignments. I do not have the time to write, at least until the end of June (and then again July is the month where I have to go to an archaeological dig, as my programme dictates, where I also do not have a lot of me time).

I will try to write, I'm going for a 1k word count per week, which is a low goal even for my standards. I will see this fic finished goddammit!

Some good news at the end: Chapter two is nearly finished. I have written 3,5k words already, and have 2,5 pages of my dialogues outlined until the end of it, so probably 1-1,5k words till the end. About a week or two till I finish, but I'm not promising. I also want to point out that the snippet is, as of right now still not polished, it's the raw version that I've just written without overthinking it much, so it can differ slightly from the published version, however many weeks from now it will be seen.

But here it goes:

“This shouldn’t have happened.”

His lips stilled at once. “No?”

“Can you stop answering in questions? It’s infuriating,” she felt the mattress behind her bend under the weight of a lounging body. Bloom’s face was hidden in her hands. What is happening? Why does she feel so miserable? Why is Valtor not fighting her?

His touch found a way to her again, his palm on her bare back, surely meant as a comforting gesture which she struck away. Then she put on his shirt, buttoned it in haste, clumsily. 

But she couldn’t go anywhere, could she? Valtor was right, in the end. This was the only room. The only bed. She could freeze to death. What was she doing? 

She slept with Valtor.

“Valtor, I can’t, I just can't,” she cried. “This is not a thing I am able to do, do you understand?” 

She was met with only an irritated huff and the gust of wind that irritated her skin with its breezy breath when he stood up. 

That was it then, the avalanche she created.

“Valtor?” she turned around, “Valtor please…”

“When did you grow so soft, love? Where are the tears coming from?” Valtor asked. He was dressing, quickly, and both his fingers and voice were getting more erratic. “Once again, I am left wondering where I lost the woman I fought on Andros. Did time whittle you away from me? Your spite transformed into this bitterness… It doesn’t suit you. Lose it.”

Those words did not make her calm or reassured. And, despite his earlier claims he neither wanted her sad nor angry precisely because of the precariousness of their situation, he put her in that exact state. But Bloom couldn’t put even a word in, when he started.

“Bloom, love… ‘I can’t do this, I am not able to do this…’ But you did already, so clearly the ability is there,” he talked and talked, his eyes burning with something close to pure hatred, or elation, or something not entirely akin to either but clearly connected. “We were here together, whether you like it or not.”

“Valtor…” she started with a wary tone. Bloom didn’t even know why the truth he laid so succinctly before her outraged her so… touchingly. To her core. 

 “Oh, but you liked it, didn’t you?” Valtor came up, almost crawled over to her on the bed - the one they just shared—

“Excuse me?” She whispered, the tone she wanted stuck in her throat. 

“To think of it, you loved it,” Valtor whispered against her cheek, holding her chin in his fingers. He was exhausting as much as he was enchanting. This close, these lips. His lips. God, she was growing more delirious with every sentence. 

“You said so yourself, darling. Maybe just in another verbiage, maybe… But then again, I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t aware of your words at the time—”

Her hand met his face quickly, at first Valtor didn’t even register it. But then, as his smile was slowly vanishing and the realisation was downing on her, she was sure her point was felt, just as much as the burn in the skin of her palm.

After the swiftest moment of stillness and anticipation, both of Bloom’s hands were seized and pressed to her torso as he smashed his lips against hers. 

And it was a ferocious kiss, one she wasn’t yet familiar with, but despite that she pushed back with equal force. She couldn’t help it, all those years she borderline trained herself to fight him just as viciously as he fought her. And what else was this, than just another battle? Just on a different ground.

Valtor pulled away moments after.

“Don’t you ever—” he panted right into her face, just as she did, their breaths becoming one again, his finger pressed against her lips lightly and intimately, “—ever do this again because I decided to say the truth out loud. You may if I lie - if I ever lie to you - but hitting me because I said something you’re ashamed of is a little below the both of us, don’t you think?”

The familiar ‘we’ again. The ‘us’ of it all made Bloom a little nauseous, just as the realisation that Valtor was in fact, right.

And that, whether she liked it or not, there was a “them” in this world. From this night forward, until the dragon flame would be extinguished. 

[missmaybe-not]

Booked for Trouble: Perils of Booking a Hotel Room for a Maybe

Hey Maybe Nots and Maybe Yeses! So sorry for the radio silence last week. I was off on a whirlwind travel adventure, collecting stories, getting lost in charming streets, and (of course) navigating the ever-interesting world of international dating. Buckle up, because this week's post is a juicy tale of missed connections, mixed signals, and a whole lot of me yelling at my phone screen.

The Long-Distance Lure: It all began last June, a classic Tinder swipe right that turned into a virtual pen pal situation. He was a foreigner visiting my country, but alas, fate (and my work schedule) had other plans. He was only here for a short visit, and our schedules never quite aligned. Despite the limited time, we kept chatting – a slow burn of sweet nothings that escalated in November. Here's where the red flags started popping up like confetti at a wedding:

Destination Dreams: He tried to convince me to change my vacation plans to his city (thankfully in the same country I was already planning to visit). Blinded by the potential of a meet-cute, I actually changed my itinerary accordingly!

Double Trouble: Fast forward to January, and things were getting serious (or so I thought). We're talking sweet nothings, and I've even booked a double room for our rendezvous. Yes, you read that right. Self-inflicted facepalm moment right there.

The Ghosting Games Begin: By the end of January, radio silence. He completely ghosted me for a month and a half! Excuses poured in later about work and trouble with his ex (due to having a child living in another country, no less). Despite wanting to scream into the void, I offered a listening ear if he needed to vent. Maybe I was falling for the potential, or maybe I was just lonely – either way, I was hooked, and it was bad.

The Back-and-Forth Tango: After establishing a boundary about communication (hello, 3-second voice note!), things went silent again. But wait, there's more! My weak spot (aka Instagram) led me to reply to one of his stories. By then I doubted he knew who I was – the girl with the upcoming trip and the paid-for hotel room! But no. Briefly, things rekindled, only to fizzle out once again.

The (Almost) Grand Finale: Fast forward to last week – my trip to his city. Complete silence from him since March 31st. Did he show up? Did he make an excuse (again)? He texted me while I was on the train, asking for the hotel info and promising to meet for drinks after work. Talk about mixed signals!

Two Nights of Passion (and Questions): He showed up, looking even better than his pictures. The conversation flowed, and after drinks, we ended up back at the hotel. We stopped in front of the elevator waiting for it. The air crackled with anticipation. Suddenly, his eyes met mine. Before I knew it, his lips were on mine, his hand holding my waist and back. The kiss was intense, passionate, hungry.

The elevator's ring broke the spell. We turned to each other, half smiles and rosy cheeks. We entered the elevator. With my back to him, I felt his arms wrap around my waist. His kisses trailed up my neck, searching for my lips. No need to say what happened as soon as I opened the door to my room.

He didn’t stay the night, but the following day, there he was and it was basically a copy-paste of the previous night minus the elevator scene (as we had company).

The Aftermath and the New Maybe: We texted for a while after my trip, but the messages dwindled. Now, here I am, confused and conflicted. Am I being irrational for wanting more from a long-distance connection?

Meanwhile, in Another Corner of the Dating Pool: To add another layer of complexity, I've been chatting with someone else from the same country as the previous guy (seems I have a type!). He's a sweetheart, but also comes with his own baggage.

So, what's a girl to do? Here's the thing, love warriors: This is where you come in! Should I wait for the maybe-something with Mr. Miscommunication? Do I give the new guy a chance, even though my heart might not be fully invested? Or is there a Mr. Right lurking around the corner who hasn't swiped right yet?

Spill the tea in the comments! Let's hear your thoughts on this long-distance drama and any advice you might have for a Miss Maybe Not who's feeling a little lost. 

Until next week, stay strong, stay hopeful, and may the dating gods bless you with clear communication and genuine connections!

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Author Discussion: (Please) Prove Me Wrong

OKAY buckle up, this is gonna be a LOT.

First, I’d like to thank everyone for reading and caring so damn much about Rinko and sending so many sweet messages in support of her while she was struggling so much. And for caring about both of them while they were both so damn miserable.

These two have BEEN THROUGH IT and unfortunately, we still have Shibuya coming 🙃

But, alas, here we are.

The rest will be under the cut!

You can read (Please) Prove Me Wrong on AO3 😊

And you can read the entire series: Another Level on AO3 as well! 💕

I’m honestly not sure how I’m going to do all of this, so we’re just gonna jump right in and try to do it by timeline 🙃

June/July

OOF. Alright, let’s fucking GET STARTED.

By this point, Gojo has been abroad for three weeks because he had a Special Grade job and he went to visit Yuuta afterward. He also knows that Rinko has been meeting with her father almost weekly for a few months, going on jobs for them in the private sector, but he doesn’t know the details of them.

Because she hasn’t told him.

Why does that matter? Why does he care? Because Rinko has never been this secretive with him before. Were this not so out of character for Rinko to do, he wouldn’t have cared. But they’ve always been so damn open with each other, that the sudden secrecy made him nervous. It pulled at his gut instinct that something was wrong. He didn’t even mind that she was keeping secrets, it was that she was trying to make it seem like she wasn’t. 

Was he right in following her? No. And he knows he wasn’t. It was why he didn’t confront her to begin with, because he knew she would be mad and he knew she’d be right in being mad.

He also knew that she would likely think he’d followed her because he was jealous. But here’s the thing: he didn’t. Has he felt a bit jealous in the past? Absolutely. It’s human. But, especially since their little discussion back in Show Your Hand, he’s made a conscious effort to respect that boundary. You’ll notice that multiple times throughout (Please) Prove Me Wrong, he has the exact thought that he is well aware that they aren’t exclusive and Rinko can date whoever she wants, including Nanami. Even if he feels jealous, he is making a real effort to make sure that he doesn’t act on those feelings because he knows it wouldn’t be right or fair. 

They weren’t fucking exclusive. They weren’t. Even if she and Nanami- it didn’t fucking matter. Because they weren’t exclusive. She’d lose her goddamn mind if she thought he was acting this way because of jealousy. He wouldn’t fucking blame her for it, either. It would be fucking stupid of him.

So let’s take a step back and assess the situation we’re sitting in.

Gojo is getting off a plane after three weeks of traveling for a job and checking on Yuuta, he’s been on who the hell knows how many flights trying to get back, he misses Rinko, because he hasn’t seen her in three weeks, and he gets a call from Ijichi giving him some of the worst possible news.

Remember how upset Gojo was last year when the higher-ups threatened Yuuta? They just did exactly what he’d been afraid of them doing. Finding a way to take out a kid because they were afraid of what would happen if they let him live.

Let’s take another step back for that one.

The events leading up to this. Why is Yuuji Sukuna’s vessel? He ate a finger. Why did he eat a finger? Because Megumi was getting the shit beaten outta him by a few Grade 2 curses and Yuuji wanted to help. Why was Megumi getting the shit beaten outta him? Because Gojo gave him the damn job to test him.

See where I’m going with this?

Rinko already gave him an earful for it. And he knows she was right. This is, essentially, his fault. 

If he hadn’t sent Megumi alone to retrieve Sukuna’s finger, Yuuji wouldn’t have eaten it, and this never would have happened. But, he knows that he can’t think that way because it doesn’t fix the situation, and he can hear Rinko in his damn head telling him that thinking that way will only make things worse. But he can’t help it. Because a kid is dead.

On top of all of that, Gojo felt okay being gone for so long because Rinko was around. He trusted her to help the kid if he needed anything and he thought that she’d handle anything if it went wrong. But she doesn’t. She isn’t even called.

At this point, Gojo did not suspect her, not really. He knew the higher-ups were assholes and that they’d pull stupid shit like not call Rinko for the job. But then, what does Gojo do? He warps back. He can’t from that airport, so he sits on the damn flight and immediately warps from the next. In Let’s Get Lost, we learned that Gojo can make long-distance warps to places he’s familiar with (like Rinko’s apartment 😏) but that it drains him. Rinko noted that she remembered how exhausted Gojo looked after her exam because he’d warped back to Kyoto after arguing with the higher-ups. These warps can knock him out. But, instead of sleeping, what does he do? He stays up all night to try to figure out who the fuck got Yuuji killed.

He’s exhausted, he’s warped long-distance, he’s been up for more than a day, and what does he find out? Not who’s behind everything, but he finds out that not only were Nanami and Rinko both available, but they were together. Oh, why should that matter if he’s not being a jealous prick? The only two Grade 1 sorcerers who weren’t specifically on other jobs just happen to be together when a potential Special Grade is located and literal kids are sent in to exorcise it instead.

Suspect.

On top of that, the Zenin clan makes up a portion of the council. We can assume that Naobito and Ogi are both members and so we will. Gakuganji is a lapdog for the council as well. And who just happens to have very close ties with both of those? Rinko. Who has been meeting frequently with Naobito and doing jobs for him. And so, the really puzzle begins to form in front of him.

And you could see it happening in the first chapter of his perspective:

If she’d been with Nanami to keep him busy while Yuuji fucking died. While Gojo was too far away to even hope to make it back to save the kid. If he’d made a mistake. If he’d trusted her only for her to betray him. If he’d let himself fall for her. 

He didn’t give a fuck if they were together under normal circumstances. But if it was to keep Nanami distracted or keep him from getting the call? It’s now an issue.

Alright, so he’s pissed off, he’s exhausted, he’s beginning to get suspicious, and wouldn’t ya know it? He gets a text from Rinko telling him she’s almost to Tokyo and she just saw the report. She’s not coming to Tokyo for a job, so why the fuck would she be on her way already? We learned in The Weight of Failure that she never just visits. She admits she’d never just visited him before, so why would he assume that’s what she was doing? She didn’t explicitly say that in the text because she didn’t feel the need because she doesn’t have a damn clue what’s going on, but it’s suspicious. She comes to his office and he tells her to leave for multiple reasons: he’s angry and he doesn’t want to end up yelling at her, he’s frustrated and exhausted and grieving, and he’s fucking confused. Normally, he would want her there because she comforts him, but after everything he’s learned in the past twelve or so hours, his sleep-deprived lil brain doesn’t know what to think.

Rinko then goes to see Shoko. And yes, they’re friends, that would make sense, wouldn’t it? Except when Shoko asks Rinko to stay in town for dinner, Rinko turns her down and leaves. We know that it’s because she feels empty and sad, but Gojo only knows that she went to see Shoko, where Yuuji’s body is, and then left. He doesn’t know anything other than that. So he continues digging even after Yuuji wakes up, deciding he’ll just find something that proves Rinko is innocent and then he’ll tell her about Yuuji.

But what happens next? Rinko gets promoted. To a Grade Rank that only the Zenin clan can get her. After she’s been meeting with them, after she wasn’t there when Yuuji died, after she’d likely been to verify the body. And again, that damn puzzle is fitting too well.

So now, Gojo is worried. Because he’s bought this woman a fucking ring because he’s realized he wants to spend the rest of his fucking life with her and now he’s terrified that he’s made a mistake because she knows so much about him. She knows so much about him and how to fight him, how to counter him.

While yes, he should have talked to her, he technically did. He called her. We didn’t see the call, but we know from both sides, the call didn’t go well.

Gojo was asking scattered questions because his brain was piecing things together and he needed answers; Rinko was ashamed and embarrassed about the deal, and also didn’t know most of the answers he needed.

And thus, their communication has really begun to crumble.

So he goes and he asks Utahime to investigate Kyoto instead of Rinko because now he can’t know for sure that it isn’t her. And then wouldn’t ya know it? Rinko is absent from Kyoto. Again, we know that it’s because she quit, but Gojo doesn’t and neither does Utahime.

Why didn’t Rinko tell Utahime? Because Rinko is avoiding everyone because she’s ashamed that she didn’t see the double-cross on her promotion coming. She’s angry at herself. And at this point, the only one who knows the extent of her deal, is Shoko. Why does Shoko know? Because she forced Rinko to tell her after Rinko calls her half-dead on the side of the road near the Zenin estate. We will get a look into that day through Shoko’s eyes in an upcoming installment.

And more pieces are clicking together.

Then, another cherry on top, Rinko knows he’s seen Yuuta, even though he never told anyone he was going, or had been, to see the kid. And because he’s already suspicious, it just adds to it. Oh, but why didn’t he just call Yuuta? Remember how he said he was beginning to not trust telling Yuuta sensitive information over the phone? He’s getting paranoid. And honestly? Rightfully so.

Oh, you’re probably wondering why Shoko didn’t tell Gojo about Rinko’s near death at Jinichi’s hands? Because Rinko made her promise not to. Rinko was ashamed and embarrassed and also didn’t want Gojo to start shit with the Zenin clan because she thought he was still upset over Yuuji’s death. And now, Shoko is stuck between two people who are keeping secrets from each other for the first time in years, who have both made her promise not to tell anyone.

Which is why she told Gojo to talk to Rinko.

August

By the time we get to August, we now know that he’s kept digging because he’s fucking hoping to find something that will prove Rinko is innocent, and - thanks to the Zenin clan - he isn’t. Because they planned for her promotion to cause a rift. But Yuuji’s death was just perfect to make it worse. He hasn’t seen Rinko since the day she asked how his visit was Yuuta was, and before that, he hadn’t seen her since the morning after Yuuji died. He misses her and he is still desperately hoping that everything he’s seeing isn’t right. BUT, because Shoko brought up Geto, he’s beginning to see similarities. Notice how his thoughts didn’t go to Geto at all before Shoko brought him up? He hadn’t made that connection. And now he’s even more distraught because he’s terrified that anyone who gets close to him will just betray him or he’ll lose them in some way. And remember how Geto died? Gojo had to kill him. So now in the back of his mind, he’s starting to wonder if he even could bring himself to do it. And he’s angry at himself because he realizes that he wouldn’t. He would likely let her kill him. And he’s trying to force himself to look past his feelings, his love for her, so that he’ll be able to protect people.

Like Nanami.

What was one of the first thoughts he had when Nanami told him Rinko had been there fighting Mahito? It’s a good thing Yuuji was there, because at least Nanami wasn’t alone with her and the Special Grade. And then he immediately scolds himself. Because Rinko wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t hurt Nanami. Not when she sees him like a brother.

Note: that Gojo knows how she views Nanami. He isn’t jealous at this point. He’s glad that the two have each other and it’s why he sent Nanami to Kyoto on the day of Geto’s Death Parade the year prior.

Anyway, where do his thoughts go from there? But Geto had been like Gojo’s brother. And he had been willing to hurt him. So, really anything is possible. And then his next thought? Shoko had put that damn idea in his head. Because he wouldn’t have connected Rinko to Geto were it not for Shoko saying something.

Because guess what guys, had he followed that line of ‘Rinko sees Nanami as a brother’ he’d likely have either called Rinko immediately, or gone to her apartment to just talk to her. Because that line of thought would have brought him back to what he knows about Rinko instead of comparing her to Geto.

Also, let’s note that because Nanami was so pissed that Gojo hadn’t told Rinko about Yuuji being alive, he didn’t mention that Mahito had destroyed her double and that was why she didn’t chase after him. Nanami forgot to tell him important information because he let his anger for his friend cloud his judgment just like Gojo was afraid he would. Because had Nanami said that her double had been destroyed and that the creepy fucker had said her soul was fragmented, Gojo would have immediately gone to check on her.

And then to make things even worse, Nanami assumes that Gojo is jealous.

And it, rightfully so, pisses Gojo off. Because he’s standing there, genuinely worried about Nanami’s safety and well-being, worried about Yuuji, and Nanami accuses him of being insecure and jealous. And he doesn’t believe Gojo when he tells him - honestly, by the way - he didn’t find out until after Yuuji was already dead and he was looking into everything surrounding peoples’ whereabouts. And when Gojo asks who planned that dinner? Rinko. But Nanami only thinks Gojo is jealous and paranoid.

And it makes things worse because of course Nanami would side with Rinko no matter what because he believes that someone he’s so close to would never hurt him. Again, thanks to Shoko for inserting Geto into that line of thought.

Because guess what guys, by now, Gojo has found out that one of the jobs Rinko went on was to get one of Sukuna’s fingers. Oh, joy. Now, she’s been on a highly dangerous job to get a Special Grade cursed object for the Zenin clan. Honestly, we have to give them some credit for being fucking master manipulators. And Gojo and Rinko for both being fucking stupid.

Because if Rinko had just told Gojo she was going to do a few jobs for the clan to try and get Maki a promotion, he’d have told her he thought it was dumb, but he wouldn’t have stopped her. And if Gojo had just talked to her as soon as his suspicion started, then she would have understood and they’d have figured it out. But alas, they didn’t because they’re both fucking stupid.

And then, Nanami tells him that Rinko will likely forgive Gojo but that he won’t deserve it, and GUESS WHAT, GUYS, we found part of the ROOT of the issue: Gojo knows that already.

In Gojo’s mind, Rinko is too good to be true. She’s put up with him, been there for him, comforted him and has been the only person in his entire life who didn’t expect him to be perfect. And she’s too damn good to be true because why would someone as wonderful as this stupid, infuriating, selfless, menace of a woman ever want anything to do with a selfish asshole like him?

Goodwill Event

The first thing Gojo notices about Rinko? She looks different. Her eyes are dull and she looks exhausted. And he hates that she talks down on herself.

What does he think next? He thinks about how selfless she is about his damn teaching job that he knows damn well Yaga tried to get her to accept so he could get rid of Gojo because he’s an objectively horrible teacher. And then he remembers her laugh. He remembers the day, back in the car, all the way back in Innate Issues, when she’d giggled as the twins and Megumi ganged up on him. And he fucking misses her. And he realizes, right there, that he’s fucking stupid because he’s fucking in love with this woman and he’d been refusing to talk to her and with the kind of person she was, she’d likely understand if he just asks her now.

But Rinko thinks he just sees a Zenin because of her own issues. So she ✨avoids✨ him like it’s an Olympic sport.

And guys, you’re not gonna like what I’m about to say: Gakuganji fucking saved the day by fucking with Rinko’s double. Because it cemented in Gojo’s mind that Rinko couldn’t be part of it. It triggered the protective part of our dumb lil boy’s mind and he went into Even Dumber Boy mode. Because he forgot that Rinko can’t fucking tell he’s not looking at her if his fucking face is right in her face because of the stupid blindfold. Which, he has kept because he wanted to believe in her. And really, he did. Because if he hadn’t believed in her, he wouldn’t have kept it.

So he panics and tells her to stay with Utahime, which is smart. Rinko acknowledges this. Because what did Utahime do as soon as they were in the veil? Activate her technique to give Rinko a boost. Just like Gojo wanted. Except Rinko is too worried about the kids, so she leaves her double to help Mai and Utahime and goes looking for Megumi and Maki.

At this point, Rinko has almost worked herself to death. Guess what, guys? That path is what leads her to the exact same fate as Yuzuki. She’d isolated herself out of shame, which is what Yuzuki partially did after finding out Naobito was married. She’s barely talking to anyone because she knows Nanami is going to meddle, Shoko is going to scold her, and Utahime is still at Kyoto Tech, which Rinko is avoiding. So, she’s isolated, she’s angry at herself, and she’s fucking breaking.

She’s going on every job she can get her hands on to try and put that damned Special Grade 1 status to good use and make a good difference. And she’s taking dangerous jobs to keep others from having to do them. She hasn’t seen the kids because she’s avoiding them because Megumi was upset and she doesn’t want to push him before he is ready to talk. And realistically, she’s hurt and she doesn’t want to be and that makes her angry. Rinko’s got a lot of emotions swirling through her.

And I’ll tell you a behind-the-scenes secret, Rinko has been spending at least one night a week at her mother’s grave when she’s not on a job.

She’s spiraling.

And, let’s not just blame Gojo for not talking to Rinko. Rinko also didn’t reach out to explain what she knew had to have upset him. Because logically, she knew that if she explained what she’d done, he would understand. But she’s too prideful to admit that she’d fucked up.

Gakuganji wasn’t wrong when he said that Rinko wasn’t going to live much longer if she kept going down the path she was on. The fucker is an asshole, but he genuinely doesn’t want to see her dead. Which is why he swallowed his pride and hatred for Gojo to tell him what he knew. Everything he knew. Because he could tell that the two weren’t talking but Gakuganji was key because he knew the catalyst. 

Guess what, guys, Gakuganji always planned to tell Gojo what the fuck was going on at the event. He went in planning to tell him. Because while he doesn’t give a shit about Yuuji, or Sukuna’s Vessel, or Gojo, he does give a shit about Rinko. He didn’t think her double being stabbed would hurt her, and he had no clue that the event would be attacked. So, in his eyes, it was harmless. Going in, Gakuganji did know that when something happened to Rinko, Gojo would get upset and confront him about it.

And so, after Gojo is done interrogating him about that, Gakuganji tells him everything he knows about Rinko’s situation because, as he says, he thinks she’s a foolish girl, but he doesn’t want her to die:

“I think Kurisaki is a fool,” Gakuganji cut him off, flinching slightly when Gojo snarled. “But I don’t want to see her dead. I don’t. And I assumed that when she didn’t sit next to you today, her promotion did what the clan wanted. She- can take care of herself for the most part. But- if she lets her temper control her like she did when she was a teenager- she- she won’t live much longer.”

Rinko notes that Gakuganji has been more of a father to her than her own, even though it was for Naobito. And he does care for her. Remember how proud he was when she made Grade 1? And how badly he wanted her to try to get Special Grade 1? Because he wants her to be successful. And while he hates Gojo, he knows that he will keep her safe from real danger. Remember, Gakuganji pressed that button for her cursed energy as soon as he realized that bad shit was going down.

So, now Gojo has the right pieces for his puzzle, which he’d mostly already deduced at this point. And he’s angry. At the Zenin clan, and at himself for not knowing better.

So what does he do? He loses his temper.

And he launches Hollow Purple at the Special Grade cursed spirit that he knows is very close to two students because, in his mind, it’s a decent substitute for going and doing what he knows would start an actual clan war.

But, as we know, everything that could go wrong with no one dying goes wrong. And he comes to his senses just in time to see Hollow Purple slam into Rinko because she was saving Yuuji’s life because he was an idiot again. And now, he thinks that this is it. He’s done more than enough fucking damage and she’ll never want to see him again because he has royally fucked up in every way he knows how.

Remember that he notes: They really were all bastards who fucking did nothing but let Rinko get caught in the crossfire. Gojo included.

So, at this point, he thinks that the best thing to do is let her push him away after he’s explained what he’s done because she deserves the truth. And then, once she tells him to fuck off, he will.

But she doesn’t tell him to fuck off. She tells him she needs time. And he gets impatient and jumpy and decides that he’s going to do something he’s never fucking done which is really apologize.

The Apology, the Fight, and the Panic Attacks

If you’ve read Rinko’s profile, you’ll know that her two favorite foods are sobayaki dan okonomiyaki and matcha and chocolate taiyaki.

Here’s a fun fact that isn’t explicitly stated anywhere in the series: She only eats matcha and chocolate taiyaki when she’s had a long day or she wants to treat herself. Her mother used to make it for her. Remember that flashback in Double-Edged Words? Most of the time, Rinko gets matcha and red bean taiyaki.

If you’ll briefly remember, in Part 3 of Innate Issues, Gojo specifically notes that the flavor Rinko got was different than what she normally got: 

“That’s different,” he said, nodding towards her taiyaki. “Never seen you-” “It’s been a long day,” she repeated, savoring the matcha and chocolate. “Wanted to treat myself.”

That was two years ago. But he remembered.

Not only that, he’d remembered that she asked for a particular beer somewhere and then he went to Hokkaido to get it. It is four hours from Tokyo to Hokkaido, by the way, guys. So he traveled a total of eight hours to get Rinko a beer because he knew she would appreciate the thought put into it. And she does.

Then, because he’s a dumb, messy lil human who is afraid of rejection for one of the first times in his entire life. He fucking chugs part of that damn beer. Remember the last time he drank? When Rinko wasn’t talking to him.

Gojo drank that time way back in Hollow Echoes because he was afraid of her rejecting him. Because he knew he shouldn’t have taken his anger out on her and he knew she was partially right in ignoring him.

So, when Gojo is afraid that Rinko is really going to see him the way he, and literally everyone else, sees him, he drinks so he doesn’t have to know what’s happening.

And because he’s a lil lightweight, it fucks him up and he stops thinking clearly so that by the time he’s actually apologized, he’s drunk and without his brain working properly, jealousy starts to actually win out. What was he gonna say when she cut him off? He was going to end up fucking telling her he loved her. And it’s a really fucking good thing she cut him off because she would have kicked him out and never spoken to him again. Because she wouldn’t have believed him.

Why? Why wouldn’t she believe him? Because she was angry too. And Rinko was letting her anger and her bitterness around everything that’s been happening, not just with Gojo, fuel her as she argued with him. And the only area Rinko gives him absolutely zero tolerance in is jealousy and she would have thought he was only saying that he loved her because he was jealous. And that would have been the last straw for her, truly. Because in her mind, that would have been the ultimate lie. She already felt like he was lying when he said he cared about her because of how angry she was, just imagine if this idiot had told her he loved her.

Spoiler: It wouldn’t have gone well.

It’s why Gojo fucking knows he can’t ask her to marry him yet. Because she doesn’t believe he could ever be serious about her and he knows it’s his own damn fault. A lot of comments joked that he bought the ring before asking her on a real date, and you’ve got a point. But I’ve said before, Gojo knows the biggest obstacle is just convincing Rinko that he’s serious. This apology was the first step.

Not so fun fact: Gojo was also having a panic attack when he was trying to calm Rinko down. It was why he couldn’t let go. Because she was the only thing that would make it better for him. And his body refused to let go of the only thing that made him feel safe. His chest feeling tight and feeling like he couldn’t breathe either? Yeah, our boy was having a fucking panic attack because he sobered up just in time to see the woman he knew he didn’t deserve, but had still chosen him time and time again, quite literally slipping away.

If Gojo had left before her panic attack, he would have never gone back because he would have believed that she would be better off without him in her life directly. He still would have protected her, and he’d have made it very clear to the Zenin clan that if they touched her again, he’d kill them, but he’d have left her alone.

But he didn’t and she let him stay after she’d calmed down and he felt that hope build again because he needed to. And things aren’t just completely better, but Rinko needed to let that shit out because it wasn’t just the shit with Gojo that she let out with that panic attack. It was the past few months.

Remember what I said about her panic attack in Show Your Hand? She feels safe enough with Gojo to let herself break. She’d been forcing herself to keep going, patching herself back up and pushing herself forward as she broke because she couldn’t let herself break. But with him, when he was holding her her body just knew it could let go and it did. Her body knew she was safe in his arms and so she broke down like she’d needed to for months.

Idk if this even makes sense anymore, but this was a huge turning point for both of them. Rinko is going to make some big strides in her own emotional development because of this. And I’m really excited for you guys to see that. Also, Gojo will keep growing, too. But he’s still gonna be a lil horny boy for Rinko because now he knows he loves her and she’s giving him the chance to really show her that he does. So he’s gonna be horny.

THE LAST THING I WILL SAY:

A lil secret: Gojo realized that Rinko wouldn’t have put up with him for this long if she didn’t feel the same way. Not long after she stayed with him in Silence Louder Than Words and he realized he loved her, he realized that she wouldn’t have done that if she didn’t love him too. But, he’s also realized that because she’s never said anything, and because he knows how aware she is of emotions: that she has likely just accepted that he will never love her back. And it fucking breaks his heart. And it’s why his mind was so quick to tell him to let her go. Because he knows she deserves better than someone she believes will never love her back. But she chooses him anyway and he means it when he says he’ll make this chance fucking count.

So yeah, these two lil idiot humans are so fucking messy and so in love and they’re gonna be okay.

Did this even make any fucking sense?? 🤔🤔