#but it just seems really sad and upsetting

[fleetinglyshelved]

Catharsis

I was having an emotion. Like a big overwhelming emotion. It felt bad but good, a weird combination of happy and sad and relieved, like something had been stuck and it wasn’t stuck anymore. Cathartic, okay. This fits the definition of cathartic. It was like the way I’d felt when I killed the Target who threatened Amena and laughed at me because I was upset when I thought ART was dead. Except without the violence, and that only lasted a minute or so, and this seemed like it would go on a while. (System Collapse)

This feeling of "something finally being unstuck" feels to me like something Murderbot has been chasing after for the entire series. It shows in smaller moments like the one it mentions, where it seeks bloody revenge against an imminent threat, or bigger missions, most notably trying to figure out what happened at Ganaka Pit:

On the way here I had shared the recording of what I had found at Ganaka Pit. ART said, This is good news. You were not at fault. I agreed, sort of. I had been expecting to feel better about it. I mostly just felt awful. (Artificial Condition)

It was clearly hoping that finding out the truth, finding out that it hadn't been responsible for the slaughter on a conscious level, would give it that exact kind of lasting closure.

(Alternatively, a self-hating part of it might have almost wanted to find out it had caused everything, so it could feel truly justified in its negative self-view, but that's a different analysis.)

The mission to Milu, finding evidence against GrayCris to support Mensah in her case against them, was another attempt to achieve this sense of closure on a larger scale, and while I do believe it came closest to it when it saved everybody, the thing still hadn't come "unstuck", so it - pun intended - stuck around on Preservation while trying to figure out what it wants.

The survey trip with Arada didn't really seem to give it a sense of fulfillment either, even though I'm sure it was glad it was there to protect everybody. But the mission wasn't a big eye-opener or anything about how great it was to do what it has always done but as itself this time. And sure, a lot of it has to do with the almost disastrous ending to the mission, but even so, it doesn't seem like it has found its purpose. We don't find out anything about what Arada and the others were even studying, because it doesn't care about that.

So it's no wonder it starts the mission at the beginning of System Collapse with an attitude of "Oh well, if it's boring, ART-drone and I can just watch media together." (Obviously, it also has a LOT going on emotionally in this book, but I believe that even if it had been in a better place, it would have gone along with the same sense of "the humans will do their thing, and I'll do my thing if someone or something tries to hurt them".)

And here we are, at the end of the mission. It saved humans from a fate it considers worse than death. It gave two SecUnits a chance to break free, and one returned the favor and helped them escape. It got the humans and ART-drone out alive. It beat a corporation at its own game and helped a central system protect the humans it cares about.

It accomplished something it considers meaningful and important, helping not just humans but also bots and even other constructs, other SecUnits in the process. It's no longer stuck searching for something it might want, it's no longer stuck in old patterns, it has finally found a path to continue walking.

The choice to leave with ART is motivated not only by wanting to keep being with it (❤️), but also a desire to actively support its mission. It finally knows what it wants.

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do fic for Peter 'Bono' Bonnington with wife reader? With him having to travel around the world almost everyday, he felt very left out in his kid(s) life. So, when they take their first steps & say their first word, he is the proudest father after getting the chance to witness it. Just something fluff and sweet for our Bono🥺 Thanks!! :))

What will I miss? - Peter x Wife! Reader

Plot: You take your childen to the paddock for the first time knowing that Peter had been on a triple header and was missing you all.

Peter often felt a little bit left out of the family. When it came to your guy's first son Benji he missed everything where he was travelling around with the F1 calander. He missed his first steps, his first words and it made him very sad whenever you'd call him all happy and excited to show him what you'd just witnessed less than 10 minutes ago.

Then your next son came along Bailey and he was more present at home however he seemed to get incredibly unlucky and continue to miss out on everything.

Your son's however were now 5 and 3 and you'd given birth only around a year ago to your daughter Brianyya.

You decided to try be with him as much as possible. You quit your job and started to teach the boys from home, they loved flying all over the world following their dad around and meeting all the drivers.

It was actually really sad for them when Lewis parted with Mercedes as he was quite the staple in their life. He would come round for dinners and he'd look after them whenever you and Peter asked which was incredibly kind but he would also show them all over the garage whenever you did manage to take them.

Now he was race engineer to the younger driver Kimi Antonelli who you absolutley adored. You owuld sit in the garage with him and help him with homework while they boys did theirs and would be his replacement mother for when his wasnt able to attend.

Now that Peter didnt have the pressure of being a 7 time world champions race engineer, he was a little more present which led up to the current moment with your daughter. He was holding her, mumbling words at her while making her giggle by poking different places on her face. You were with Kimi helping him choose song to add to his Monaco GP playlist.

"Dada" you heard before a gasp comes from your husbands mouth. Kimi looks up at you with a grin on his face before walking over to your husband.

"Sh-she said my name!" Peter grins looking up at you, and he heard it, his little girls first words.

Tears brim his eyes as he plays with her arms happily.

"Say it again Bri, say Dada, Dada" he repeats and she pouts giving him a confused look before some baby babble comes out.

"Did i imagine it?" he asks looking at you, severe upset and distress on his face.

"No, you heard her! She said you!" you grin, coming to your daughter and cooing at her as she grabs your finger in a tight grip. She watches both you and Peter with curious eyes before she looks at Peter again.

"Dada!" she exclaims before a fit of giggles follow and he nods in an encouraging way.

"Yes, thats right! I'm dada! Can you say mumma?" he asks before repeating the word a little her little head tilting in confusion. She looked deep in thought before frowning.

"Dada?" she asks in a curious tone making him grin and nod. He nuzzles into her kissing all over her face making her giggle even more.

He lifts her up and sits with her on the floor, holding her up so shes on her feet. She'd been able to be upright for a while that was nothing special but clearly Peter was eager to get everything out of her today so he didn't miss anything.

"You gonna try stand for Dada?" he asks and Benji comes over taking one hold of his sister's hand being the good and protective older brother he was to his little sister meaning that if she fell sideways he'd be able to help stabilise her upright. Kimi positioned himself to the other side so that he was the safety net for her other side.

The longer she was held up trying to get her to stand the more frustrated she got, small huffs coming from her confused red cheeks.

"Alright i think thats enough for tonight, she's getting tired and cranky" you say picking her up and cradling her making her sigh in relief and lean agaisnt your shoulder.

"But she didn't walk" Peter says looking up as if you'd just told him the worst most devisating news possible.

"Peter, we're with you almost everyday, i promise you you arent going to miss it while we all sleep and you know what if you do i'll have another kid just for the sheer purpose of you being a stay at home dad so you can take on all the joys of parenting that you fear you're missing out on!" you joke, laughing as you pull him in kissing him while one of your hands rests on his cheek.

"I do want it all though!" he exclaims after he pulls back from the kiss.

"Don't you see how much they all look up to you. They adore you and what you do" you smile at him, confused as to why he feels as though he is such an absent parent when in your mind he is the furthest thing away from that.

"I- I just worry that they'll grow up to resent me and wish i was around more" he sighs, a sad look on his face. You knew Peter didn't have the best parental figures growing up at that he didn't want to follow in their footsteps.

"They wont, they worship the ground you walk upon! Just like i do" you say, pulling him in to one more kiss before nodding at him to follow you as you take hold of Benji's hand as he goes to pick up Bailey.

As you walk out of the catering unit Lewis and his Ferrari PR assistant are walking past.

"Looking good Red!" you shout out to him, making the man's head spin in curiosity seeing you and a massive grin appearing on his face.

"Y/N!" he exclaims coming up to you and kissing your cheek before he pulls Peter into a hug.

"Bono" he grins, looking at his old race engineer.

"Uncle Lewis!" Benji cries legging go of your hand and replacing it with Lewis'.

"Hey little man, how are you! You've gotten so much bigger" Lewis says crouching down.

He talks to both Benji and Bailey before turning round to you and Bri whose now awake due to the commotion, her sleepy eyes trying to focus in on Lewis.

"And how's the little Princess of the family?" he asks squishing her cheeks making a giggle come from her and the grabby arms start in Lewis direction making him laugh and offer to take her off you.

He plays with her a little bit before Charles comes across smiling at all of you.

"Shall we go see Char Char?" Lewis asks in a high pitched voice watching Bri stand next to him, a firm grip on his hand.

Charles doesn't move any closer, not wanting to be told off for stepping onto the Mercedes lawn making the giggling girl take a step towards him. Before you know it Lewis is guiding her and helping her take her first steps towards Charles as Peter watches in fascination.

"Omg! She's doing it! Her first steps!" Peter cries looking at his little girl. Lewis looks behind and grins, happy to be sharing this moment with a family that he always felt like he was part of and welcomed into with open arms.

"Of course she'd walk when her Uncle Lew lew is here!" he grins looking down at her as her face looks determined to make her way to Charles whose now crouched down at the entrance with his arms out.

"Lew Lew" she mumbles out making him pick her up and spin her round, giggles spilling from her.

"She said my name! Hah beat that Bono" Lewis grins cheekily.

"She already said Dada, you beat Y/N though" he says turning to look at your pout at your daughter.

"Guess she's a daddy's girl and then an uncle girl before a mummy's girl" you sigh with a laugh before Benji and Bailey come up hugging your legs.

"We love you most mummy" Benji cries, gripping onto you, Bailey nodding in agreement. And all you can do is laugh, happy at your little family all together right now.

These are the moments that count after all.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[crownmemes]

Concerned Sentences, Vol. 10

(Concerned sentences from various sources. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"You need to trust me on this. I've walked this road before."

"If you spend all your time hiding from death, the question is, were you ever really alive?"

"The heaviness you're carrying has its own gravitational pull."

"Have you been feeling alright lately?"

"It wasn't an accident, was it? Someone tried to kill you."

"Are you really alright, or 'not ready to talk about it' alright?"

"That article really has got to your head, hasn't it?"

"You should let this whole idea go, but you won't, will you?"

"Don't feel like talking today?"

"Take care of yourself. No one else will."

"I think it's pretty clear you're mad at more than just me."

"What's wrong? Why are you frightened of me?"

"I hate seeing you this sad."

"You're drinking too much."

"I've seen you confused and I've seen you upset, but I've never seen you afraid like this."

"I know it's not my place to ask, but what is going on?"

"This is weird, even for you. What are you doing?"

"Please stop worrying about me and let me worry about you!"

"Why didn't you share with me what you're doing?"

"I'm going to sit here until you're ready to talk. You don't have say a word until you're ready, but I'm not going anywhere until you do."

"This must all be so confusing for you."

"Why did you ask me if something was wrong when I came in?"

"You've never killed anyone before. It's a lot to digest."

"Do you have any idea how crazy you are?"

"What is it that you don't want to tell me?"

"I don't like to see you like this."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you kind of look like you need a drink."

"You seem awfully quiet."

"It's okay if you're not alright. You can tell me."

"You can push things away, but sooner or later, you have to deal with them."

[johanna-swann]

Not to make it all about Buck, but the way the character dynamics were portrayed last episode made me so sad for him.

In 8x16 we got the scenes with Maddie and Chimney. Maddie's got her own shit going on, but she took the opportunity of Buck showing up at her house to check in and make him feel seen and loved. Chimney was focused on his own grief, he was angry, he felt guilty, but he didn't put that on Buck. It was a really emotional and great scene that showed Chimney's grief and how he can be open with Buck and accept his advice.

Those scenes perfectly demonstrated Buck following Bobby's "orders" while still giving him connections. But this week I just got the impression that Buck is alone, both from what was directly said and by contrast.

Everybody has someone who they can go to and who will talk to them, even beyond their spouses. Athena has her children, Hen and Karen who all check in with her. Eddie drops by Henren's place and they keep the conversation light, but they can talk openly about several big topics. Chimney gets continued support from his wife, he also spends time with the Wilson-Han children and takes all three of them out to the movies and he briefly chats with Hen.

They all have their own complicated details to work through that could get awkward or even uncomfortable depending on who they bring it up to.

Hen bringing up to Athena how she was offered the Captain's position - meaning she'd replace Bobby in a way - probably made her at least a little nervous, but they talked about it and it was fine. Athena being angry at Chimney is probably complicated for Karen, but she reaches out to Athena about it anyway to make sure she's okay. The way Madney talk about Bobby, how the existence of their kids could've been the detail that convinced Bobby to sacrifice himself, how Maddie is grateful Bobby saved Chim (instead of himself), all of that is emotionally complex and they talk about it. Hen and Karen confront Eddie about his living situation which he explains away quickly and it's no big deal, but they don't just let it slide even though the topic could be difficult for Eddie.

What I mean to say is: These conversations aren't easy. They're complicated and hard and exhausting, but the characters still reach out to each other and take care of each other anyway. Because they love each other and they're family. Sure, Chimney and Athena are at odds right now, but this episode showed again how beautifully interconnected the firefam is. Or can be when the writers decide to show it.

Somehow this doesn't apply to Buck. For some reason he's the one who's too hard to handle, so they don't reach out to him and they don't talk to him and they don't take care of him. And they won't tell us why.

"He spirals after the funeral" -> Okay, so show us the ways in which the team thinks he's spiralling. All I saw and heard about was him checking in on his friends and crying while talking to his dead father figure which a) seems like a very normal thing in that situation, not a spiral, and b) none of his friends know about the confessional.

"He's being weird with this grief assessment thing" -> So they're avoiding him because his grieving is weird? Chimney suddenly took up running which he hates, avoided talking to people and almost missed the funeral to get drunk on vodka instead, but Buck using questions from a psychological questionnaire about grief to check in on his friends is too weird?

Eddie implies that all of them talk about Buck, but not to him because they think it might upset him more. Ergo, they know he's already upset and not okay right now. They're all worried. But if they think he's spiralling and not properly processing his grief, isn't that all the more reason to talk to him?

I think if this was brought up next episode by Buck, maybe him getting angry how no-one will just talk to him, they could do something interesting here, but that's not what's going to happen. At most they will give Buck a moment where he admits to someone that he's been trying to repress his grief, he will cry about Bobby and the person will tell him that he needs to properly grieve because he can't avoid the pain, only delay it. But at this point I'm not even holding my breath for that scene partner to be a family member. They might put the priest in there again for all I know or, hey, maybe another extended family member like Bobby's mom or Mr Lee. Maybe Brad is still around.

Buck feels like the family is falling apart, like they're pulling away, but the truth is that the family is very much still there, meeting for coffe, taking the kids to see a movie, talking about Bobby over baby furniture. The only one they're pulling away from is Buck and it is a blessing that Buck hasn't realised that yet.

[max1461]

I'm getting suicidal and need this to improve quickly.

Feels like normally I have some... mechanism, that has a variety of functions. It pushes away thoughts that are too upsetting, it occurs when I commit to a specific decision, it occurs when I exhibit emotional inhibition. Basically like something that puts the breaks on my immediate mental state and re-focuses my attention on higher level goals and commitments, or something. It's an inhibitory response I guess. I used to perceive this as a basically internal thing, with a physical correlate: usually when this response would trigger, I would feel a slight kind of "gulp" sensation, like a little bit of muscle movement in my upper throat?

Since I went to the dentist, it's felt like something in the back of my throat is numb or immobile, and therefore I can't trigger this inhibitory response. So my thoughts and emotions are all over the place, I keep feeling it trying to trigger and failing, and it's causing me huge problems.

I don't know which direction this goes. It's possible that it's some kind of tic, maybe I have Tourettes as one neuro suggested, and it's a tic that usually goes off, but it can't because of like nerve damage that's physically impeding it, so there's a build up of the premonitory urge? That certainly accords with a lot of the internal experience of this. Other possibility is like: so when I was at the dentist I was having a panic attack, and so I was intentionally impeding this inhibition response (because otherwise I would have been too afraid to get the local anesthetic shot). I do remember doing this, intentionally impeding this response. And I was panicking pretty hard. And when I was given the anesthetic, like I said, it felt kind of good at first, it felt like my panic was stripped away and my whole body felt warm and so on. So maybe I just... unlearned this inhibitory response in that moment? And I don't know how to trigger it again? Neither the psychological nor the physical side of this response seems to be working. There is a definite sensation that something in the back of my throat is "frozen".

And right, the weird mental imagery. As I've said elsewhere, I've always had very vivid mental imagery, including visuals, sound, smells, everything. Now it hasn't been this vivid in the past, and in the past I've been able to control it, obviously. But it usually is very vivid. I could make it as vivid as it currently is by concentrated sufficiently. The problem is it's like that all the time, and I have no control over the content. But the imagery itself isn't totally unprecedented for me. Two neurologists have mentioned synesthesia as playing a role, which I definitely have.

But, really, I have felt since the beginning that there is only one possible solution to this, which is to get that inhibitory mechanism back again. Can anyone help my brainstorm how I might do this? I have already tried a lot of stuff. I have tried relaxing and letting it come, I have tried focusing really hard and pushing it through. I have tried thinking about things that would normally trigger it. I have tried decoupling it from the physical movement, like trying to simply activate the mental side of it and ignore the physical. All of these have almost worked in the exact same way, where it totally feels like it's gonna come and then just doesn't.

One way or another this is destroying me and I really want a solution.

Oh, right. Right. I have other facial tics (that's the term I'll use), as I've said in other posts, associated with specific emotions. So if I'm sad or happy my face scrunches up in a particular way, etc. I would not previously have distinguished these from just "expressions", other than that presently it's clear there's a premonitory urge. These are also not working? But I think a lot of them also usually co-occur with the inhibitory response, so maybe that's why? One way or another, I have felt them coming out in other places. I have felt them try to trigger in my face, fail, and then trigger in my hand or my stomach. It's the same pattern of movements, immediately and intuitively recognizable as the same tic, but occurring in my hand or stomach. And it triggers a similar-but-alien-and-disconcerting emotional response as the one in my face would trigger. And I feel like as these incorrect tics(?) trigger, I am like relearning all my emotions into these crazy alien things.

I just fucking need this shit to stop. Does anyone have any new ideas?

[mmhawkes]

I haven’t seen the people I went to high school with since graduation. It’s been a long time. I don’t use Facebook or anything, and that’s really fine. But today I was thinking about some people I was fond of as a teen, and decided to google one or two of them. There was a girl who was always so nice, and we did theatre together, and I just really liked her. I think she went to Juilliard for dance. Turns out she died this past October. Cancer. I should not be this sad about someone I haven’t seen since I was seventeen.

[lanternlightss]

dewdrop leaves

> this was written for day 3: immortality/corruption! and of course i could not pass up the opportunity to write a corrupted venti, and bard’s reaction to it <3

Though Venti does not necessarily feel the sensations such as “warmth” or “cold,” the sheer thickness of Dragonspine’s chill tries its hardest to threaten that motion. It clings to him, weaving around and through the fabrics of his clothing, wrapping his limbs. Frost dapples at the tip of his nose, extending to his cheeks. It coats his clothing, too, the material starting to crinkle, turn firmer, and rigid.

(During his flight to here, his hat had been tossed off, and his cape’s bow had been torn unevenly….. how he quite liked those….)

When he lands, sprawled out onto all fours, sinking into the snow and feeling how it gives in, the beginnings of ice fall from him in clumps, sloughing. He extends his wings, fluttering them, and watches as even more are flicked off from the action.

Going to stand, a sharp pain pulls at his chest, seeming to bounce off of the space where a rib-cage would be, before it spreads throughout the rest of him, pinpricks of blazing flares. He doubles over from it, his forehead and bangs pressing into sparkly white (his braids choosing to sprawl across them instead.)

Making the decision to fully lay his upper half onto the snow, and partly burrow there, wings folding to slide more onto his form, it—for a moment, upon the first touch—feels almost soothing. Rubs at the itchiness lying beneath this imitation flesh, one that strikes and tears and shrieks at him every passing minute that goes by. Each louder, more vicious, than the last.

Venti grimaces.

With a tremble, he pushes himself up, crawling forward to fresher snow—areas where he did not mess with. Raises his hand, watching as the deep blue (nearly a shade close to the night sky, dotted with small magentas) covering his fingers and palm reaches up, up, up, a little past his wrist, in splotches. Racing alongside the blue, is deep, fracturing golden lines and cracks, painted across in random strokes. He flexes his hand, wincing, and noting he has his talons, as well.

(There is a prickle on his back, too, where feathers begin to sprout, beneath the pair of wings he already has out.)

He huffs a breath and continues to stand, shaking off the snow when completely upright. Crouches slightly, one foot forward, stancing for a flight into the sky once more—for as much as he would like to, Venti cannot stay here, it is too close to Mondstadt still, and there is a concerning pressure building within him, one that he fears may blast away everything here.

Wings flap, he leans. Snow then scatters and sprays in various directions, from his take-off.

The corruption worsens as his journey continues—that accursed statue, but its situation was becoming harrowing—sending shocks so severe that it has his wings beating harshly to keep himself righted. Even more terribly is when the ruins of Old Mondstadt come into view, and the extra wings find this the perfect time to sprout in full, snapping out, and colliding against the ones above them.

That has him stumbling into one of the many strong currents dotted around; where he allows them to spin him in a lift, and he dips towards the ground when they let go, upon where he forces his wings to untangle, opening and catching wind. He twists, pivoting, aiming towards the ground, his surroundings a blur—and lands onto a patch in a cloud of dust. Once it has cleared, he remains in his position, sitting on his knees, hands pressed to the sides of them as he leans slightly forward.

(Belatedly, he realizes he has lost his cape, and shoes.)

Venti heaves. The pressure from before is unbearable now. The blue-gold has creeped up his arm, the splotches trailing off in fading dots when it reaches where his archon form’s gloves would end, and he presumes it is the same for his legs—though, he can feel a weight at the back of his head, half-formed, in what could only be a halo. Go and break him down to his more divine forms, why don’t they!!

Bubbling. Too much of it, his grasp on everything fraying, thinning, even as he scrambles in an attempt to keep it locked shut, fingers twisting and flailing—the threads of wind, patches of time, the weather, it slips, becoming fuzzy. A gratitude undercuts it, a vague thankfulness that the ruins have sunken enough to fit the wrath of a thrashing God, a vague thankfulness that Dvalin had been sent away beforehand, before it is overrun by the thoughts—what if this is not enough? Will they fall, to his hands, just as the tyrant had done to them? Will he lose what he has fought to protect, what he has set everything to prevail for?

He cannot lose anyone again—

His imitation heart splinters and spills, the corruption truly sinking in. His vision blurs around the edges, flashes of gold tracing them, his breaths coming out labored..

(He knew, when Dvalin had been corrupted by the Abyss, that he was hurting—if it was to this extent, he wishes he could have soothed away everything.)

Around him, the wind races, becoming erratic, kicking at any surface it can find, zipping across in uneven lines. He leans further, wings curling, and the distant sounds of this place are doused, muffled, becoming white noise—a consistent ringing, overlapping

Underneath his hands and legs, the ground shrivels. The wind grows harsher, rocks being scraped across, propelling into the air and torn asunder, the glowing crystals diminishing to mere crumbles of rock. Both the dirt and grass are dragged from the ground, plucked and ripped. The intensity continues to ramp, the noises becoming overwhelming, ringing in his ears pitching, finding that his hands have raised to grip at hair, that his wings seem to wrap around him completely as he—

As rapidly as it had seemed to start, it feels as though something grabs hold of him and yanks to a halt. Venti gasps, cut hair strands falling around him.

The winds stutter, and the ringing fades. He jerks up, hands still embedded into his hair, and finds that… the place he landed in was not so deserted. Their tree stands, swaying, waving hello.

And, that everything had truly come to a messy standstill; threads of teals dipped in a bleeding mixture of a blue-gold suspended in a whirling vortex, a few parts of the wreckage they had caused gently floating besides in its grasps. The threads are not all the same, some of them cutting in dotted lines as they zoom, some of them having their lines wavering to point it threatens dispersing, some of them are thoroughly solid, some of them are splitting into branches, teal twisting and curling, and—

And—

And…

Blue eyes blink, fluttering as if just awoken.

He rubs a hand at the right one, brows furrowing at his surroundings the more aware he becomes of them. Pure raven-black braids sway, as he swivels his head, and Venti notes with a whirlwind in his mind, that the locks have stray strands flicking out from not only the braids, but the bangs, and hair that frames the face. Windswept. The clothes, as well, are missing the tear in the bottoms of the shorts, the tops of his boots, and his right sleeve. If he were to turn, there would certainly be holes in his cloak, too.

But—if he does not have those, then how is he…?

A gale is thrown into the cliff, repeatedly, tearing apart the ground, as they respond to Venti’s dread.

His eyes widen, then narrow.

No, no, no, no, no. Stop looking at him like that.

Venti hunches into himself, talons clenching and shredding more strands of hair. The gale intensifies, lashing behind him, carving out chunks and causing the ground to rumble in its fury. He bares his teeth—wanting to shriek, to grab at his head and!!!!

Stop looking at him like that!

(Why wouldn't he?

A wind out of control? A wind that slices, destruction in every path? Why would he not back away from it?)

He tilts his head, starting to stand, and his expression shifts at Venti flinching away from his approach, the wind whipping to a higher degree with the flinch. He goes to take a step forward, the grass he steps upon having a simmering, bubbling line of a thread hovering there—and there is a quiet screeching as the threads are forced away, unraveling in spools and flinging out towards the cliffs; it has him jolting away from it, one step taken back, boots hitting the ground and kicking up dust.

His gaze snaps up to Venti’s.

(He has a fleeting thought, a moment where the minuscule inch of himself that the corruption has not touched speaks; that he should fix everything, that this mess has gotten severely out of hand, to fly off deeper into the ruins before he does something truly regretful.

But it is just that—fleeting.

Because at the attempt to follow through with the ideas laid out, the corruption rushes to overtake that last final inch, smothering and snuffing it out without regard. It halts Venti’s hands when he tries to wave them, refusing to let them budge the Bard in front of him, dark blue and gold chaining them to remain where they currently are. You do not truly want that, do you? It whispers, false care and comfort in its voice. You wish for him to stay, so here he will stay.)

That gaze of his shifts once more, briefly scrutinizing, then the ever so slightest of widened eyes, before reaching a blankness. It seems that something has clicked. He tries again, purposefully angling his path to the swirling threads, and Venti grits his teeth as he moves them away, hooking a finger round them and pulling, so that no interactions happen between them and him.

(And, how during this, he sees—for a moment—a glimmer of something magenta across his form.)

And blast it all—

Venti raises himself and situates his legs into a crouch, his wings flaring unraveling from around his form. And bounds.

He crosses the distance between the two of them in seconds. Nose mere centimeters away from his, Venti grits his teeth, watches as the other blinks owlishly at him, as if not expecting to be approached so suddenly, especially not like this, Venti poised in a manner similar to that of a cat pouncing still.

“Keep off from those,” he nearly growls, “Can you not see that they—”

Hands shoot out, to place themselves on his cheeks. Venti falters, words dying in his throat.

“What has happened to you?” He murmurs, gently tipping Venti’s head up, to the side, checking the dark-blue that has climbed up to his face, “Your teal… where has it gone? Have you always had gold?”

He swallows. A twitch goes throughout him, one that does not go unnoticed by him.

And, oh. That was what had clicked.

The words build, his tongue bubbling, bitterness and sweetness coating it. A name he has not said for centuries, a name he has kept clutched close to him, hidden in the palms of his hands, in the place where a heart would be beat.

Venti’s mouth opens, and croaks: “Cecil….?”

He pauses, meeting Venti’s eyes.

“Hello, little bird,” Cecil replies, softness in every feature of his. “Ah—I suppose you would be an angel now, hm? How much you have grown…”

The softness does not last long, his brows knitting as he thinks, a frown replacing that wondrous smile of his. His fingers trace the edges of the colors, outlining them, almost, a silent fury and puzzlement to the actions. “But, my friend—why are these… like veins? Why do you hurt? Did someone else do this to you?”

(I will hurt you, I will hurt you, you need to get away from me—)

“No one. This is my own doing, you see,” he says, offering a reassuring look, “I am not hurting at all.”

And—that is true, if partly. There is no stabbing prodding at him any more, attempting to wrench him towards the ground so he stays there. It aches most certainly, however, the wind underneath his skin thrumming as it races incessantly.

Cecil’s brows scrunch.

He steps forward to pull Venti closer, his right hand falling down to his waist, tracing a tear in his clothing, and… ah. Ah. He revokes everything he had said about snow and their so-called “soothing effects” beforehand, this is so much better than it, he curses them and nearly purrs at the feeling of his friend being a breath away from him, his touch curling into his bare skin so softly, lovingly.

Venti chases it.

All but lunging into him, Venti dives his head into Cecil’s chest, careful of the halo behind his hair—do not want to slam it against him. The rest of his body follows suit, his arms encircling around Cecil’s torso (with his hands carefully closed, knuckles pressing into the fabric of the green vest), knocking their legs together so that he can hook it around one of his dear’s, and his wings complete it all by flaring out to then snake around and envelop them both. Feathers brushing against skin and cloth with every other breath.

(The wind has gone still.)

“Oh,” Cecil gasps, startling at something, “you have six wings? I only saw four… have your limbs been multiplied, too??”

Does he? Venti thinks dazedly. It must have happened when the pain was ramping up, he could not distinguish it under all the other sensations attacking him. He had wondered how far the transformation would go—his most divine form has much more than four wings and a halo.

He does not give Cecil a response. Choosing to nuzzle into his clavicle instead, head going even fuzzier, thoughts narrowing to Safe safe safe, stay stay stay, love love love, here here here.

And—what an idea.

Cecil’s chest expands, as he inhales, exhales. It takes a moment, but he begins to reciprocate, an arm going around Venti’s back, between the middle wings and bottom ones. The other arm lifts to the space above Venti’s shoulders, near his nape, pulling him further into himself. He rubs at those places, in small, circle-like motions, and it has the God wholly melting in his arms.

“Is this alright?” He asks, “Is this helping?”

“Mmmmmhmmmm…..”

Gradually, the threads dissipate, dropping closer to the ground, and having the wreckages they carry collapse against the water around the tree, the dirt and rocks. Twist higher into the air at the end, then wobbling, and falling apart. He watches it all, a steady thrumming sounding in the air the longer he holds onto Venti. For one of them, he tests, to see; what would happen if he nuzzled into Venti’s cheek, patting at his back? The answer: it causes the threads to speed up, swooshing so swiftly, that he hardly has time to blink before the teal is fading.

Eyes wandering, they slide to—

Ah! Cannot have that, can we? Venti blocks his view with his right most top wing, fluttering the appendage to truly catch his attention, making his dear jolt in surprise. See, if Cecil is to stay by Venti’s side, then it should be away from here—the safest spot is the Tower, but he would not like that very much. Perhaps they should cross to the Dandelion Sea?

“Venti?”

“Hmm..?”

Cecil raises his hand up, to tap to the back of his head, his knuckles briefly brushing against the halo. He lets it stay there, for long enough that he can weave strands of hair around his fingers, to light tug at them—a non-serious scolding, for the blocking he did. They drop to rubbing circles on his nape after. “How are you feeling?”

Right, right—conversation happening.

He shuffles backwards, only a few inches, so that his dear is not forced to let go of his grasps—skin still tingling and fizzing with that loveliness. Tilts his head, then, to where Cecil gazes at him, a quiet concern and pure curiosity to his eyes, now.

Another wave of winds zip by them, these ones far lighter, livelier, and peppy than the others from earlier were—however, still the same mix of colors, if slightly more solid, slightly lukewarm in temperature. They swirl around them, teasing at hair and cloth, dancing in chiming sweeps and dives; that of which distracts Cecil for a moment, his hair blowing into his face, a muffled sound of a “wuh” escaping from him when it has strays loosing from the braids he wears. He shakes his head to rid of them, glaring halfheartedly.

A beaming grin tugs at him, at the sight. One that lifts the bottoms of his into soft crescents, slowly revealing how his teeth have grown sharper canines. His pupil—still a lovely teal, though, now captured around blue-gold—shines, constricting to a thin slit, as a glittering gleam dances across his gaze. He hums, unclenching his hands from fists to press the palms of them more firmly into Cecil, scraping the talons across his vest.

“Much better,” he says, a lilting, distorted pitch to it. Extends his right’s hand index finger, while he talks, to prod at his back—tracing a symbol there, one that causes Cecil to minutely shiver from it, unexpecting the action. “Thank you.”

And perhaps it is that, that has Cecil truly understand what has happened; that Venti is really not so much hurt as he is a far, far worse thing, that there is something gripping at him. Or perhaps it is the way he looks upon him, as though he were the sun, a gleeful, thrilled and eager gleam to his gaze. Or perhaps it is the way his wings gradually tighten around his form, not constricting him, yet he suddenly feels the reason they continue to be folded (and twitching, fluttering, so often) is not that Venti just wishes to hold him with everything he has.

Whichever it is, whether it be a combination of all of them, it has him widening his eyes, a near whisper of “Oh,” trailing into the winds. Winds that take the words greedily into their hands, rolling them over—winds that tell him murmurs, almost frantically, a gentle urging in the way the threads crowd further around them both, hushed jingling of bells accompanying it: stay, stay, stay, stay?

Oh.

[coldslaws-gear-station]

Soooo this is a bit awkward to say, but do you mind explaining the Lance arcs in the manga to me like I'm five really quick..? I never read those ones and I have zero clue how it goes, which low-key fucks up Eurynome's lore (which I'm fiddling with rn) and I'm sure you also have headcanons with the story that'll need to be integrated 😅

Also I'm trying to establish a timeline in a way, hense the fiddling. I've changed Eurynome's story into being founded in the viridian forest at 10, then raised in viridian city where she left at 16. I've also changed from her first Pokemon being mew to it being Gothitelle, it just makes more sense? But imma need all the deats with Lance, ramble to me please I actually need it--

this is doubly awkward. i have Not read the yellow-hgss portions of spe.. ive mentioned a couple times before that nhp (and a bit of rh) specifically used to be tied to the blogs of a friend, those of which focused mainly on gsc & hgss spe, who's since lost interest in pkm totally. and now it's sorta just up to me to fill in the blanks and even retcon a bit of it now that this friend is no longer really in the picture of my stories, because basically our lore was practically made in halves (i did half (unova), friend did half (johto)) that were totally enmeshed. so that is to say i never read lance and silver's stuff and relied on the retellings/hcs of my friend, and im not intimately familiar with what goes on in lance's side of things but i can give you the vaguest of rundowns. i am sorry 🙏

i guess this is the cautionary tale of intertwining lore with friends. but honestly i really enjoy what the concept of alder and lance being related has been able to do for ideas and stuff so i don't wholly regret it, it just sorta makes everything tricky now and is also why ive been keeping lance & co relegated to the bg. for one it just sorta makes me sad to try and portray silver and lance myself. and two i just genuinely don't know wtf im talking about for a LOT of lance's story..

but also hey at least it makes in character sense for alder to be cagey about exactly what went down LMAO

anyways as for the rundown

basically lance is a villain for about half or 3/4ths of his duration in spe. he has a whole N Moment where because he can hear the voices of pokemon he decides humans need to super majorly die rn and goes terrorist mode to get it done. so lance blows up like half of vermillion city with a help of a dragonair or dragonite (idr which one) and infiltrates both the team rocket and the e4 (which in spe, is already compromised by rocket if im not mistaken, like half the gym leaders and all of the e4 are evil in yellow istg)

then also similar to n has a come to jesus moment through the power of repeatedly getting her ass kicked by teenagers and is no longer committing murder but still kinda hates people, prior to gsc if im not mistaken. it's through hgss that lance seems to fully stop the hating people thing and chill out a bit via helping stop pryce from destroying the world

so that's the manga canon. and im aware that ive made time itself a bit fucked up and evil by the fact that i haven't really set specific years for everything that happens. honestly i kinda lost track of how much older n is than silver, which makes it WAY harder to figure out where exactly johto is, events-wise. silver gets kidnapped at age 2 which is what causes team rocket to start, and n is 8 currently. i think silver was a teenager as n was in their 20s so depending on how much of a teenager he was exactly, silver could probably already be born in rh, though probably not already kidnapped, therefore team rocket doesn't exist yet. which does throw a wrench in literally everything because before lance ever blows up vermillion he is already in the e4 which is already compromised by rocket, yet vermillion is already destroyed in rh because lance was put in a psych ward as a result. so. basically that's me saying ive created an impossible timeline /lh

we can finagle a bit and say lance did that before sneaking into rocket or whatever since again. rocket doesn't really exist yet. i never really liked the concept of the kanto pml being totally evil anyways. crooked, maybe, considering they'd allow a terrorist in, but idk! anyways yeah. im sorry that was a really lackluster and confusing reply. basically since ive mapped out so little with lance's timeline, when it comes to eurynome you have a good bit of wiggle room to figure stuff out, and if you have any suggestions of your own feel free to say em :]

also just as an aside lance and alder were also born in viridian forest, hence the pokemon talk abilities. it's just sorta spe canon that if you're born there you can hear pokemon in some capacity, and even heal them by touch which i omitted from lance and alder and such. but yeah that's all

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s3 episode 22 "quagmire" thoughts

this episode was SO good. it was funny, it was heartfelt, and it was entertaining. but- and i'm sure you fans who have seen the show before know- something happened that is making me cry.

yes, actual tears! boy, there must be some real serious astrology stuff going on in the world, for actual tears are down my cheeks, something that almost never happens to me in movie and film watching experiences, and this episode did it to me. i usually just get a bit misty and that's the extent of it- even in one breath! but man. apparently i have a weakness.

sigh. we shall get into it, like we do.

reading the episode description: it's loch ness monster-like creature time!! i’ve been eyeballing this episode for a while, it sounds really interesting. a lake trip!! a trip to the lake!! 

we begin, and it is frog time!!! time for a frog!!! an endangered frog!!! dr. farraday is fighting for their rights. oh, he just used the term “frog holocaust” in his talk to this dr. bailey fellow, which is something. serious frog beef going down between these professors, for dr. bailey does not think that dr. farraday's research proves that humans are responsible for the fate of the frogs! how infuriating.

dr. bailey is going back to his car but lost “his beeper” so he’s looking by the lake for it. OH! his beeper meant a pager. i know what a pager is!!!! do not think i am uneducated!!! just never heard it called as such.

he finds the beeper but he is EATEN. by a BEAST!!! while a frog watches. 

if only this was the fate that all people who deny the need to protect the environment met! eaten by a lake beast! how much more just this planet would be...

intro time. and the first time i watched an episode and i heard the theme i started laughing hysterically because i didn’t realize that noise was the x files theme; i had just thought it was a well-known spooky noise used in vines and stuff and then. everything clicked into place. and it was soooo funny. anyway.

road trip to georgia!!!! WITH THE DOGGY!!! mulder calls it “a thing” SO RUDE????

“you wake me up on a saturday morning, tell me to be ready in five minutes, my mother is out of town, all of the dog-sitters are booked, and you know how i feel about kennels” <- help i’m CRYINGGGGG tell him how you feel!!!!

(love that they have already had a conversation on the morality of kennels before)

((but also truly what did he expect 😭😭 and he did all this on a SATURDAY!!!! she ought to have been way meaner!!!))

so he made her leave town with the puppy on a SATURDAY for a missing person’s case… omg do they even get paid overtime???

also mulder is lost which is soooo funny because WHY is he perpetually behind the wheel... he doesn’t have any sense of direction!!!

he makes a stupid pun about the killer being “large” and she straight up asks what he’s leaving out LMAOOO

(he points to a billboard advertising “big blue, the southern serpent) <- “oh, tell me you’re not serious” LMAOOOO

so they’re going to talk to dr. farraday and i think it’s so cute that scully is in some more casual-y clothes. anyway, they’re going over the serious frog beef between him and the victim. farraday does NOT miss dr. bailey’s loser ass... ijbol!!! why should he give a damn for one man when so many species are going extinct!

farraday said “has anyone ever told you two you have a great problem coming to the point?” after mulder asks if any native species attacked humans... lmao he is rude as hell!!!

AND ASKING ABOUT BIG BLUE MADE THINGS WORSE!!! now farraday is going on about how if anything requires real thinking people turn to UFOs and whatnot which is like.... um okay rest assured that if someone is gonna think it’s gonna be mulder. he's gonna think about any and all explanations on a sliding scale of plausibility.

LMAO mulder is being sassy right back while scully screams with her eyes. farraday gets even more pissed and leaves… honestly i’m sorry about the frog population king, but you’re not really winning any friends with influence to help you lobby on behalf of the frogs. or winning any friends at all. 

so mulder and scully and the doggy go to a bait and tackle shop, and the sight of them sharing an umbrella with a dog on a leash healed something in me, something i didn’t know was in need of healing but it was. and they’re reciting the different creatures that live in lakes- apparently scully read about cryptids as a kid!!!! 

she says they’re folk tales and he says “well, how many folktales do you know that can eat a boy scout leader and a biologist?” and she looks soooo annoyed. but then they go in, and he is a proper gentleman and shakes off the umbrella 

at the shop they see a “scale from big blue” and scully says it looks like “a carapace, something from a beetle” which again reminds us that she WAS studying bugs in bio, thank you very much!!

they’re chatting with the dude that sold mulder a map, and he’s talking about his own experience with the creature while wearing a hat that says “show us your bobbers” which is crazy, but we keep going. he claims he heard a cow get eaten by big blue as a kid. and in walks an alleged expert, ansel… whose daddy’s cow was eaten way back then!

ansel is buying more film to someday achieve his dream of catching a picture of the beast and scully looks deeply pained in the background lmaoooo i love her 

someone is putting a worm on a hook in order to fish on the lake. a big one bites!!! a real big one. OH! it’s actually a human body. the fisherman goes and gets the dude from the tackle shop and by proxy our agents.

OH! there is only half a body. they’re bickering on what could have eaten half of a human body while hiding together under an umbrella, and it’s really cute but where is the dog?

the tackle shop man is out in the swampy part near the lake wearing dino-shaped boots to try and make some convincing tracks LMAO. king of the hustle. but something approached him as he gets stuck in the mud!!!! and he is dragged into the dark lake with only a dino boot left behind!

apparently his name was ted. rip ted and your bobber hat and funny boots.

mulder seems to believe that the tracks are legit and tells scully and the dog to watch where they’re walking as to not disturb them (and the dog is named queequeg i’m gonna CRY!!!) 

the sheriff is OFFENDED by mulder’s suggestion to close the lake, because clearly this is just a bunch of drunk people falling overboard!! and then getting run over!! well if that happens as frequently as you seem to think it does, we need to do something regardless of if any beasts are involved.

scully is not buying that the tracks are from a real creature because they did not leave very deep impressions. but the dog yanks her away!!! he’s off investigating the dino boot! the prints may be a hoax, but the blood on the shoe is very real!

cut to some stoners on the lake talking about hallucinogenic toads. he holds a local frog and licks it. but someone interrupts his toad licking session coming back to the surface from a scuba dive?

oh no!! scuba dude is pulled by some sort of creature!!! and his head is removed from his body. well that is not good.

time to locate the head. both of our agents are in fun little jackets, and still bickering over what went down.

ansel the big blue photographer is serenading his camera, preparing for the perfect shot, which he has set up by filling an inner tube with meat. something bubbles beneath it. BUT NO!! it skips the meat on the tube and goes right for him!!!!! he snaps a picture as it gets him!! three attacks in one day!!!!

mulder asks the sheriff again to CLOSE DOWN THE LAKE and he again refuses. scully says it’s inconclusive still, which is echoing the dr. bailey saying about the fate of the frogs being inconclusive!

the sheriff falls in, and out there he brushes into something big. he immediately proclaims that the lake shall be closed down, calls state police, AND wildlife fish and game. well okay that gets results i guess.

they’re examining the photos from ansel, and mulder things that this blurry thing COULD be a tooth. it is very funny.

AWWW the dog needs to go for a walk, and mulder offers to go with her :,) she lifts up her jacket to show her gun, says she’ll be fine, and smiles. STOP I LOVE THEM SO MUCH?????

why is this episode making me emotional with their little lake visit. also something bad is definitely going to happen now. she says goodnight :,)

aww the dog is MAD and she’s talking to him in that kind of voice you reserve for a little creature... but he wants to go into the woods!!

no!!! he runs too fast!!! NO!!!!! WHERE DID HE GO???? HE ISN’T ON THE LEASH????

NO. I CAN’T BEAR TO WATCH SCULLY LOSE HER DOG…. 

oh my gosh, she is sitting in the chair, holding his collar in grief…. she is literally spaced out into another dimension mourning her little friend and mulder is rambling about the lake…. i want to slap him… NOOOO. she asks him to repeat himself because she was so out of it…

(if this doesn’t end with a dog reunion i will drop this dumbass show. BET.)

mulder asks if she can drive a boat. psh can she drive a boat? it’s natural to her bloodline.

she is piloting the boat and he’s telling her where to go, and she’s braver than me because if i lost my dog at this moment i think i would need two weeks to begin to even SORT of get a grasp on reality. 

“i know the difference between expectation and hope. seek and ye shall find, scully” <- this is a genuinely fantastic line said by mulder, but i’m still in dog mourning so we can go analyze that later 

map facts with scully :)

until the monster comes STRAIGHT AT THEM!! i like how she kept asking “what is that, mulder?” because it reminded me of when she kept asking mulder to get the bugs off of her in darkness falls… like the blind hope/faith/desperation that he would hold the answers and have a solution… ohhhgghh

big crash into the boat!!! it is leaking and she picks up the radio and calls a distress signal (another natural feature to a scully) but the boat is FILLING with water!!

mulder gets some life jackets for them and they barely get them on in time as the boat sinks. whew! a conveniently placed rock for them to perch upon is nearby!!!

but there goes the $500 deposit :( 

mulder says to swim and she is GAGGED “in which direction?!” lmaoooo

mulder is unsettled by how dark it is, because you forget these things in a city… and scully says you forget a lot of things in a city; her father taught her to respect nature, because it has no respect for you. or your dog, i guess :(

they both pull out their guns as they hear splashing!!!! mulder whispers that it was big blue, but scully asks “so what if it was?” <- NOOO you took her dog and her deposit, you’ve broken her spirit!!!

mulder says he wants to know because it could revolutionize science, and so many of the things they chase are intangible, but it’s a creature within the confines of a lake, it should be right HERE- and she isn't buying it for a second

she says she saw HIS FUTURE in ansel’s photographs, a man listening only to himself and seeing nonsense; she can’t figure out his motives, and things are approaching angst levels on this rock in the middle of nowhere, but SOMETHING APPROACHES!!!!

it’s a duck. okay so it could be worse!!! he says he’s still tempted to fire and she slams into him LMAOOO 

sleepover on the rock. “hey scully, do you think you could ever cannibalize someone?” <- LDHDMDNSMDNSBBDNSND I’M GENUINELY YELLING LMAOOOOOOO HOLD ON. hold on i need a minute to handle all that. (she gives a thoughtful and scientific response) <- that’s Them. that is their dynamic right there.

“you’ve lost some weight recently, haven’t you?” “yeah i have, thanks for-“ (glare of realization) LMAOOOOOOOO WHAT EVEN IS THIS EPISODE

“poor queequeg” she says, and i’m gonna CRY. but mulder has a better response now to her grief instead of just babbling on about the lake, asks why she chose that name. she shares that was the name of the harpoonist in moby dick, which her father used to read to her from.

and as she says this, she realizes how much mulder is like ahab, “so consumed by your personal vengeance against life, whether it be it’s inherent cruelties or it’s mysteries, that everything takes on a warped significance to fit your megalomaniacal cosmology” <- the words of a girl who was REALLY into a book as a kid and is also experiencing near-death levels of hypothermia and grief

LMAOOOOO HIS RESPONSE IS “scully, are you coming onto me?” yes. now kiss on the rock.

and she keeps going, talking about how his search for the Truth will take down everything he loves, just as it did for Ahab.

OH! he starts talking about how he always wished for a peg leg, even as a kid, and it first it seems like another of his many jokes but he says it’s because maybe then it’s enough to Persist despite the difficulty; without, “you’re actually expected to make something of your life- achieve something, earn a raise, wear a necktie” so perhaps he is the ANTITHESIS of ahab, for with a peg leg he may be more pleased! 

woah. that got deep. i’ll be gnawing on that one for a bit.

THEY BOTH QUOTE A LINE FROM THE BOOK AT THE SAME TIME... STOP I’M GONNA SOB?????

but a splashing approaches… and they draw their guns…. CUT TO A COMMERCIAL BREAK!!!!

it’s dr. farraday??? he says he hopes he’s not INTERRUPTING anything!!! wait so was the shore right there the whole time LMAOOO (silent walk of shame to the shore) BAHAHA

so what is this dude doing out here?? obviously it’s frog science! he’s been breeding the frogs to get their numbers back up. 

mulder is thinking…. if there are fewer frogs for a dinosaur to eat… it would have no choice but to turn to different food sources! (cutscene to serious arguing between mulder and dr. farraday whilst scully watches)

sheriff rolls up!!! another person had their arm bit off, and so he has thirty boats searching that area. but mulder says we have to search THIS cove, where the frogs have been going missing!! he blatantly refuses.

what if it was her little dog that bit the dude’s arm off…

scully politely asks for him to send a few men over and immediately gets results LMAOOO he quietly mumbles “thanks”

but a distant scream is heard!!! it’s dr. farraday!!! they run and find him!! something grabbed his leg and was shaking it. his leg is messed up really bad so scully is tying a tourniquet, and mulder’s running off after the mystery creature…. no self preservation instincts….

so he’s off with a gun and a flashlight chasing the human eating beast…. only to find some frogs. but something is approaching him?? quickly!!! and he’s firing his gun!!!

into a GATOR??? not a fancy lake beast!!

he’s staring out into the water… claiming to be fine. but he said he wanted the monster to be real, that he saw hope in such a possibility. she says there is still hope, that people want to believe, which is why the stories have endured for so long. 

GASP! the minute they leave, we see a big sea beast…

i’m literally so torn because i was CONVINCED the dog was going to come back 😭😭😭 and this episode was so good but WHY did they have to throw that in there… like i can’t even make an objective analysis of how this went because i’m so sad. WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT?!?!

“oh juni there have been lots of human people that die in this series” which i mourned for too! but. i have felt the pain of losing a beloved and innocent creature and i do not wish for it to return and being reminded of its inevitably is not something i wish upon anyone MUCH less dana scully, who has already suffered in mythological levels.

really though, the episode was good. it was genuinely fantastic. it just clearly hit a bit of a nerve with me so i'm not going to do a thoughtful wrap up in the manner i like to think i usually do. but here are the things i liked, beyond the whole aesthetic and mood: bickering, umbrella sharing, scully at the helm, joint quoting of moby dick, deep introspection in the form of projecting onto book characters, cannibalism debates, outlandish creature as a monster of the week, rock sleepover, and fighting over frogs

[doll-elvis]

I’m just having one of those days…

(crying over a man I never met because I miss him)

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

is it scummy to block people because you disagree with their takes 😭😭 it’s never anything personal obv but . like. would that just be mean………..

[mjrdm]

.

[spear-carrier-number-three]

the rampant kant hate in this fandom isn't surprising but it is exasperating.

[peridotporygon]

i love me a good complicated relationship but UGHHHHHG i HATE when the writers try to act like there was nothing wrong with the relationship. please write more complicated and even toxic dynamics!!! just don't try and defend them or downplay the abuse!!!

[constantineshots]

the opinion for today is that john’s never really needed to be fixed and pairing him with any character for the sole purpose of “fixing” him belittles both the character and john himself. john does care a lot for people, but a lot of people want to ‘fix’ him in ships when in reality, he does care. he can be a great boyfriend who understands boundaries ( as shown with kit, for example, and dani ), but he does run away when he thinks that significant other might be in danger because of him and he’s aware of that fact ( like with oliver, in the newer constantine: the hellblazer run ).

is he an asshole? absolutely. but does he need to be ‘fixed’? no. he’s fine. he’s a decent guy, who’s willing to do just about anything for his friends and feels immense guilt if anything happens to them. he’s never needed to be a hero. he doesn’t want to be a hero. don’t force his hand into being one in the dc universe. keep him his little chaotic neutral self. has he saved the world? yes, but it’s more of a “well, no one else was going to do it” mentality and at one point, he only saves the world because there’s a lack of cigarettes and the shipments of cigarettes weren’t coming in, but that’s also because of his “well, i keep saving the world, and it keeps ending. there’s no point anymore”. poor guy, honestly.

anyways, in sum, i don’t like the whole “they can fix him” ships with john. i think it’s demeaning. can someone be with john without needing to fix him please. thanks.

[moe-broey]

I have. So much power. Esp w the ability to use any portrait I want for any class. Which maybe was always the case? But the funniest example here is Bruno. The Medic. That armor in his portrait? Just for show. He's only allowed to wear extremely tearable fabric. As the gods intended. It's part of his curse, you see,

Also Moe voice "Yo who the fuck invited your undead dad to the function??????"