#depressing landscapes are my favorite

[scottspencer4011]

I miss the utter desolation of Northeastern Colorado and Western Nebraska. I’ve never felt or experienced anything like it before or after. Need to feel it again soon, probably this February.

[rhettabbotts]

dreaming of a white christmas - rhett abbott x reader

pairing: rhett abbott x wife!reader

summary: in which christmas miracles still happen.

warnings: 18+ only. fluff. soft sex. oral (f receiving). christmas cheer. rhett’s the best husband. rhett walking around naked.

a/n: this is my submission for @lewmagoo’s christmas celebration! i’m so sorry it’s late my love but i hope you enjoy this little fic! and happy holidays to everyone! i hope it’s a good one 🩵.

“We’re looking at a warm and sunny Christmas day. No signs of accumulation over the next week.”

Weatherman Todd Carter crushed all of your dreams in one sentence. Every year since you could remember, there had been inches upon inches of snow throughout the month of December. This year was a little disappointing, but you had been holding out hope for Christmas.

That was your favorite thing about this time of year. The white snow covering the mountains like a blanket. The serene and beautiful landscape always made you feel like a child again.

The early mornings, bundled up from head to toe in snow gear heading out to feed the animals. The anticipation of Santa coming to visit as you baked cookies with your mother. It all reminded you of a happier time. And now thanks to Todd, you weren’t going to have that feeling this year.

Rhett came in that evening and could tell you were upset. It was your second Christmas in your new home and the place was decorated from floor to ceiling. He always said it looked like an elf threw up. You thought it was just enough, but you kept adding more every time you came back from the store.

“Hey, honey,” Rhett greeted you, planting a wet kiss to your cheek. “What’s the frown for?”

“Stupid Todd,” you mumbled as you stirred the cake batter for the chocolate cake you were baking.

“Todd? Who the hell-“

“The weatherman on Channel 7! He said there wasn’t gonna be any snow on Christmas!” You sounded like a spoiled child whining about not getting a toy. The corner of Rhett’s mouth quirked up. “It’s not funny. It’s depressing. We’ve always had a white Christmas.”

“Sweetheart, just because there’s not gonna be any snow doesn’t mean it’s going to be any less perfect. You’ll make sure of that,” Rhett swiped a finger in the cocoa mixture, licking it clean with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Good cake by the way.”

“It’ll be even better if you stop trying to give yourself salmonella,” you swatted at him to get out of the kitchen.

Rhett waltzed out of the kitchen with an extra swing in his step, his tight Wranglers leaving nothing to imagine. It was your favorite pair and he knew it. As he showered and cleaned up, you finished baking your cake. You even threw in a batch of cookies for the hell of it, trying to ignore Rhett’s voice saying in your head “stress baking.”

The holidays were such a wonderful time, but after you and Rhett had married it had become exhausting. Trying to find time for both families and leaving each place more overwhelmed than when you arrived was enough for you to decide to spend Christmas with each other this year.

The repeated questions of “when are you having kids? when are you going to move back to the ranch? why don’t you move closer to us?” wore you down to the point you nearly broke.

You wanted a family but children weren’t on the table at the moment. You and Rhett wanted to travel. See the world. Get out of the little small town you both grew up in.

A strong pair of arms wrapping around your middle snapped you from your thoughts, a scratchy jaw tickled your neck as feather light kisses were placed to your pulse point.

“I know that look. You’re thinkin’ too much again,” Rhett mumbled against your skin.

“Just thinking about you. About us,” you replied, swaying in his embrace.

“I can’t believe it’s our second Christmas. And it’s just us this year. Thank god,” Rhett muttered the last words. He couldn’t stand your aunt Susie. She was touchy.

Rhett continued placing soft kisses on your neck, causing you to moan quietly and lean your head back against his chest. You could feel him smirk. Smug bastard.

“You know… that fire I’ve got going looks real cozy…”

“What are you hinting at?”

“I’m saying I want to eat my wife out by the fire on Christmas Eve so she’ll stop pouting about no snow,” Rhett said bluntly, tightening his hold on you.

And he did just that. He laid out the softest blanket you had on the floor, laid you on your back and threw your legs over his shoulder. His tongue made slow figure eight movements from your clit to your pulsating entrance.

Your knuckles were white from the grip on his long locks, tugging harshly when his lips suctioned on your bud.

“Rhett- fuck- oh Go-God!” You stammered, hips bucking against his face.

He didn’t stop until your thighs were quaking and your juices covered his chin. He made a point to make dramatic slurping noises as he was pulling away.

“That’s it. I don’t need to open a single present tomorrow,” Rhett said as he placed his head on your lower stomach, kneading your thighs gently to stop them from shaking.

“Oh no. You’re opening those presents, mister. I have kept them a secret long enough.”

“I love you, baby.”

“Please fuck me now,” you pouted, practically pawing at him.

“Greedy little thing,” he teased.

So you made love all night by the fire, eventually falling asleep in your husband’s arms and dreaming of a snow white covered yard with two little girls running after Rhett.

The early morning sun shined brightly through the living room window, much brighter than it typically did. You blinked slowly, holding back a giggle at the sound of Rhett’s snoring. You knew he’d be complaining about his back later.

Wrapping an extra blanket around yourself, you made your way to the kitchen to start the coffee, not even bothering to look outside. You didn’t want to be disappointed.

As your cup finished brewing, you stood at the kitchen sink and nearly dropped the mug as you looked outside and saw nearly six inches of snow piled up out front.

You shrieked and caused Rhett to jump awake. He didn’t grab the blanket and stood in the middle of your living room stark naked.

“Where’s the fire?”

“THERE’S SNOW. A WHITE CHRISTMAS,” You exclaimed loudly, wrapping the blanket around you tighter and throwing the front door open. You were greeted with a bitter chill, one that went to the bone and brought a wide smile to your face.

It soon became too much and you hurried inside, Rhett still walking around without clothes on which didn’t surprise you.

“So Todd lied, huh?” Rhett joked as he sipped on your abandoned coffee.

“I could cry right now. A white Christmas. My favorite,” you whispered, grinning to yourself.

“Darlin’, I pray every Christmas will be white just so I can see this joy on your face every time,” Rhett said as he shimmied his way towards you.

“Go put some clothes on. I’ll start breakfast and then we’re doing presents.”

“Yes ma’am,” Rhett winked, yelping when you smack his ass as he walked away.

You spent the day with just the two of you, both laughing and crying at the different presents you got each other. You watched many Christmas movies while you snacked on the lunch you fixed and watched the snow as you drank hot cocoa. You saved White Christmas for last and you couldn’t stop yourself from shedding a tear as Bing Crosby crooned “may your days be merry and bright. and may all your Christmases be white.”

[dyemelikeasunset]

is there a season you associate with dom and mor? either individually, as a pair, or story-wise (both their current story and their prequel)?

dom struck me as a winter type, she kind of reminds me of a tall bare-branched tree in a snowy landscape. and mor reminds me of spring and flowers. i’d love to know if you had specific seasonal symbolism in mind for them.

and do you think they would’ve gotten along if they had met when they were younger? like high school age?

You're very close!! I do assiciate Dom with winter, but I actually associate Mor with autumn

I wrote a lot so under a readmore it goes lol

Mor is late autumn afternoons with warm tea, big blankets and sweaters. The type of day ideal for curling up with a favorite book and vinyl playing softly. The first bites of winter frost are starting to creep into the air, but there are earthy but vibrant colors everywhere. Her favorite flowers (roses and pansies) are still quietly in bloom. At her worst I think of her like that depressive mindfog of days wasted entirely in bed, but at her best she's like those indoor dates spent talking about your deepest feelings and dreams

Dom is like a quiet and snowy winter solstice night, desolate but also romantic. The types of nights where the snow eats up every sound, but reflects light and makes it easy to see where you're going. The type of night that makes you feel it's not so bad being alone even if the sky is pitch black. It's unbelievably cold, but the snow seems to glitter like ten thousand little crystals. At her worst I think of her like a disoriented blizzard, but at her best I think of her like a romantic Christmas date

I associate their prequel largely with their seasons of autumn and winter (it's generally the span of the story as well, it takes two seasons for them to meet and fall in love), while Dom & Mor is every season. I wanted d&m to go beyond themes that have trapped them, because together their lives become fuller and less claustrophobic. Their feelings of being trapped are released and they have to grow beyond their roles and motifs

And the last question: Would they get along if they met younger? Yes actually!! I think they'd have been friends very easily. They were both quiet and studious. Mor would've been intimidated by Domi at first, but if they talked she'd quickly realize she was kind. I actually think it would have been easier for them to become friends in high school because Dom was a lot less tortured then and didn't give off her terrible aura lol, and Mor was less neurotic and self-doubting (she gained a lot of her insecurities from her failed relationships). I think it might have been harder for them to bridge the gap of friends to lovers though. They probably would've had one of those "we were friends in high school and thru the years she helped me through a lot of my heartbreaks but now we're adults and I'm realizing she might actually be the one" type of stories LOLLL

[sebastianravkin]

A FUNERAL FOR NEIL-GAIMAN

My hyper fixated autistic mind keeps running the Neil-Gaiman allegations around and around in my head and I need to find a way to move past the hero in my mind. Even though I believed Neil-Gaiman when he said ‘you never want to meet your heroes’, even though I am old enough to know better, even though I assumed Neil-Gaiman probably had issues and hangups that didn’t come through in his friendly and wise public persona, I have still been hit hard by the extent that I was wrong. I need ritual, closure, a way to move on. So I WILL BE HOLDING A PRIVATE FUNERAL FOR MY HEAD-CANON NEIL-GAIMAN. Maybe others want to hold their own funerals, maybe it will help, and so I put this out there for you to consider.    

To be clear - and many may disagree and I am fine with that - I do not care in theory if Neil slept with younger women, I slept with older men and think of myself as better for it. I do not care that Neil practices BDSM as long as it is safe and consensual. I do not care if Neil had an open marriage if it was agreed upon by both parties. I believe Neil is autistic, and that can make intimate (or really any) communication difficult sometimes, but I do not think that is an excuse. I believe Neil suffers depression and suicidal ideation, but I do not think that gives him a pass for treating others poorly. 

I care that Neil took advantage of women who were at a disadvantage - financially, professionally, mentally, emotionally. I care that he was proposing sex with women after being married to his first wife for only a year and who was probably obliviously at home with their new baby. I care that Neil is no where near the man I thought he was, I hoped he was, I believed he was and that made the world a slightly better place. 

So, I will be holding a funeral for Neil-Gaiman. For the man who spoke of his own heroes - Terry Pratchett and Gene Wolfe - as polite and kind and wise and (I made the mistake of assuming) as role-models for his own behavior. For the man who appeared to be so kind and funny, with no ulterior motives, on Tumblr to so many fans. For the man who has written the books that I have read and reread to get through various crises in my life and so I assumed he had a deeper wisdom than I about life. For the man that I had a serious crush on since the 1990s. For the man who inspired various aspects of my own writing about, and understanding of, humanity. This man is fictionally dead, because this man was a fiction. His art lives on, and I will continue to love the art because I can not simply turn that off. 

What will this funeral be like? Probably some candles. Probably some tears. Probably burning a photo or two, but never never a book. Comfort food, definitely. Sad music. Maybe watch my favorite moments in Good Omens. Or read my favorite short story in Trigger Warnings. Or maybe just work my way through The Sandman again. I will grieve him like I grieve the end of a good book, or the death of a favorite character in a story, or the loss of a favorite place on the landscape.

The fact that there is some other dude out there that looks like Neil-Gaiman, who I think of as just Neil (because every ‘Neil’ I have known was an ass, which should have been a red flag really), is too bad. Maybe Neil is self-destructive, maybe Neil harms others to harm himself, maybe Neil will find help, find a way back from the depths he has thrown himself into. Or maybe Neil is just a dick; always has been, always will be. You can be autistic and self-loathing and depressive and suicidal and still be kind. But you can also be all of those things, and also just be a dick.

R.I.P. Neil-Gaiman.  I am done. I have no more to say on this.

[doshmanziari]

Shadow of the Erdtree: Some Reflections

Well, folks, since no one asked, here are some thoughts I've had while exploring Elden Ring's add-on, Shadow of the Erdtree.

The existence of an alternate shadow realm has solidified my conviction that what Elden Ring is depicting on micro and macro scales is the phenomenology of etheric bodies -- extending even to the moon, the double of which is visible from the Moonlight Altar plateau (this is reflected by Rellana's Twin Moons spell). Each of these bodies possess a regulating function. Although each might be generally described as doppelgänger, the occult scientist Rudolf Steiner wrote of the Doppelgänger proper as its own sort of body, responsible for the tension between aspiration and temptation. It's interesting to me that this is such a major preoccupation of the game, because it indicates a layer of esoteric involvement, on the part of Elden Ring's narrative conceptualizations, that I don't think anyone in the so-called lore community has picked up on yet. The shadow realm helps explicate the otherwise inexplicable Godefroy the Grafted, too.

Various details have also strengthened my impression that the revolt against Nature we see in Elden Ring is a revolt against motility -- motility being the ultimate enemy of utopia: a human conceptualization reliant upon infinite stasis. In the base game, I think we see this revolt most profoundly in the narrative of Ranni, who first abandons her own flesh and then strives towards the realization of an Age of Stars, that "thousand year voyage under the wisdom of the Moon." Although the Seedbed Curse represents its own revolt against Nature, it remains within the organic order. Ranni's vision is of the inorganic and remote. And I don't think it's unrelated that, in certain esoteric cosmological systems, the moon stands as most distant from the Absolute.

The colors of the landscapes and sky are amazing: vivid, autumnal, and strange. These palettes have only made me dislike the game's rain effect all the more, which does not deepen the arboreal colors (as it should) but drains all surfaces of color and sets them into a depressing, bland grayscale. To say that the rain is a part of why I consider Raya Lucaria to be Elden Ring's low-point in the realm of major level design could be seen as a trivial complaint, but visual drudgery will wreck even the best schemes; and Raya Lucaria is as far as you can get from that anyway. FromSoftware has done fine with types of snow (see, e.g., the Frigid Outskirts or Painted World of Ariandel), but I think they've yet to figure out rain, among some other graphical technicalities.

The forges are among my favorite instances of discrete level design, even if, or maybe because, they tend to contain only two or three enemy types, feature no bosses, and severely scale back the level of challenge. I happened upon one yesterday that I did find a little dull, but the other two were wonderful, brief, atmospheric knots, quiet sequences of colossal architecture, that sort of evoked shades of Stonefang Tunnel from Demon's Souls. On that note, I'd call special attention to the forges' theme music. The only other piece of music from the DLC that's gotten my attention is the theme for Belurat.

Plants are People, Too.

Torrent is just... a terrible inclusion for this game. It's maybe obvious enough to not warrant being said, but -- any design decision has to be evaluated on what it contributes to the system it's been set into, and Torrent adds nothing outside of the occasional, brainless convenience. I could maybe see an argument for Torrent's presence if he had some emotionally charged narrative integration, maybe like what Shadow of the Colossus did. Without this, Torrent is nothing but a tool which perpetually problematizes the overworld's scale (a bit too big, yet no fun to traverse at high speed) and trivializes all of its gauntlets on a potential and actual level far worse than anything the Spirit Ashes could ever do. Better to me would've been if the only way to use a mount were by defeating a mounted knight without killing their horse and then sneaking up to the runaway to gain ownership of it.

I'm finding the map much more engaging than that of the base game because of how it plays with abstractions and builds anticipation through that. One part of the map, for instance, shows a bunch of trees with red leaves. Reaching this place reveals these "trees" to be enormous red flowers. Another section shows pink, purple, and orange specks. What are these? And what are the gray, finger-like lumps erupting from the mass next to it? I've also found it tough to figure out how to progress from one plane to another because of how densely stacked and knobby the continent's features are, so consulting the map has been helpful in a way I rarely experienced with the base game's.

Love how much the Ancient Ruins of Rauh resemble The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, from the explosion of verdure, to the crude, architectural naivety defining the pseudo-Gothic structures.

With Shadow of the Erdtree, I keep coming up against an unresolvable simultaneity like the one mentioned above regarding the overworld. There's a lot of good level design to be found here among the dungeons, castles, and forts, yet the abundance and enormity of it all seems to have deprived the game of significant contrasts, and those special spatial moments, which I found much easier to locate and reflect upon with, say, Dark Souls or Bloodborne. Sure, the sky-piercing spiral of Enir-Ilim is a sight to behold; but soon enough the sequences of grand staircase upon grand staircase, great bridge upon great bridge, creates a perpetual climatic grandiosity that diminishes the very effect of a climax (and I'm not even sure that Enir-Ilim is the DLC's intended final location). Anor Londo or the Nightmare of Mensis could feel special because the qualities and features of their spaces stood apart from everything else. Elden Ring, I think, has gotten itself into a predicament by trying to one-up its internal material and all prior FromSoftware games through the enormity of its scale -- and challenge. More and more, I've been craving a new project from them that resets these terms of engagement, even while enjoying the consistency of the material at hand.

That's all for now! In time maybe I'll turn these thoughts to an essay for my Substack page, perhaps with a focus on the first two points.

[kulapti]

Bookbinding of L'Ombre de ton ombre by windfallswest, Dec 2023.

L'ombre de ton ombre (Fantastic Beasts, Percival Graves x Credence Barebone) is another of my favorite Fantastic Beasts fanfics. It is a novel-length work that deals sensitively with the characters' experiences of grief, depression, and healing. The story has a strong visual element, with the setting and landscape playing a prominent role in the story: the landscape is beautiful and isolated, which fits appropriately parallels the characters' slow process of learning how to live again and appreciate beauty, while emphasizing the difference between being isolated in your struggles and being companionably alone with someone. Treating mental illness is often a long haul, and the structure and resolution of this story addresses that fact with a balance of frankness and optimism.

About this project under the cut.

The gorgeous endpapers are marbled paper by Brazilian artist @renato-crepaldi. Since the landscape is important to the story, I specifically wanted endpapers that reminded me of the Australian badlands. I literally looked for months until I saw this paper before finishing the book. I was so pleased with this!

I'm honestly not entirely convinced by the pinkish tone of the cover, but I made this book to be part of a set of four, and I do think it matches nicely with the others in the set (here's another one of the four).

The frontispiece art is an edited version of J.J. Audubon's illustration of gyrfalcons. Yes, bird guy Audubon. I love this falcon illustration and falcons play a symbolic role in the text, so it was a great excuse!

Materials: Textblock is archival paper, laser printed text, marbled endpapers, with linen and beeswax stitching, reinforced with cotton cheesecloth as mull. Sewn endbands are cotton embroidery floss. Covers are Italian rayon bookcloth (spine) and hand-dyed cotton batik backed with handmade wood pulp paper (ink-like cover pattern). Cover lettering is machine-cut metallic heat transfer vinyl. The case is constructed of archival bookboard, handmade wood-paper, cotton rag paper, and PVA craft glue.

[marabarl-and-marlbara]

notes from church today; i:m behind on my monthly letters and it:s making me a bit worried (but that:s all on me to address); two people wrote me responses that i:m thrilled to respond to (in return) because they wrote to me about my two favorite things (?): books and writing--it:s a bit simple and stupid, (but sometimes i:m driven by the simple and stupid): but having someone just mention to me that they liked my stories/settings really can just make my day and make me want to keep going.

that latter part is something i:ve been struggling with lately, as outside of creative pursuits: i've just been feeling spiritually dead lately; faith feels so far off from me lately that i keep doing an internal 'mathematic' to audit (or figure out) what might've been the slow poison that has been killing my connection to faith, and what i can do to address it; i think: the 'healthy habits' i:ve established have blanched all the ridges that i could hang a personality upon, and have just been lost more-and-more to a smooth landscape that only facilitates a similarly smooth and featureless person. a continuation of that is maybe all of the connection in small ways has slowly undermined the foundations and filled up the woodwork with louses and weevils that sucked the spirit out of me and slowly supplicated (? am i using this word right? substituted?) it with habit and levers; the other thought comes from tracing it back to etiquette and the symptoms of adhering to etiquette simply being a person dried of spirit and left as being little more than habit and lever--and, as to the purpose of etiquette and recognizing spirit as an "abstracted mistake": maybe that was the point: for a sacred depression that causes the spirit to go bone-dry (like in ceramics) and cause an individual to resemble the vase (material) and not the artwork (abstract);

a more sound thought is just that it comes in long depressed cycles, and the sickness isn:t helping; whiny little nothing feels good stretches of months and eventually (like some moronic oasis) a passion is found somewhere; all that aside: i:ve been loving reading lately and am getting through dona barbara slowly, and i love grubby mechabellum videos, and every week i look forward to bleeding out some money to buy myself a nice sandwich @ the butchers nook in mt dora (i:ve made strides in being less neurotic about food); just miss being super passionate about things, but you can:t be that way all-the-time anyways.

didn:t want to leave it at three paragraphs.

[whiskeyswifty]

no literally ivy is the gayest song she has ever written its such a masterpiece 😭

i never answered this and i'm SO sorry buddy but LITERALLY SOO GOOOOOOOOD LIKE the storytelling??? the way she subtly shifts into the cadence of a victorian poet??? the way it has like TWO bridges??? the variations in her tone and vocal strength or whatever you'd call it?? how she goes from softly mournful to angry daring anguish??? not a single lyrical stumble, everything slots perfectly into place??? its woven together seamlessly like a sweet little tale about two women finding an impossible love in a both physically and emotionally barren landscape and time period. the song itself feels like a spark of warmth in the hearth of a cabin deep in the frozen woods. one of my favorite lines of all time "grieving for the living" like my godddddd the way that so perfectly pinpoints that kind of futile depression and helplessness, grieving the miserable life you've been forced into as if it's already over and you're as good as dead. so many others like the whole visual of the song??? how love is represented by fresh clovers and blooming spring and real, true love is impossible to stop from taking root?? how it slowly encompasses you like ivy up a stone wall until you're completely covered it it?? once a cold unfeeling gray stone and now you're emerald green and alive and vibrant??? and of course the flip side of ivy as a plant which is that it can also be extremely destructive to structures like stone and brick, their roots penetrating into any existing cracks or holes in the grout and expanding until the whole wall, and the case of this song, the whole house of stone comes crumbling down??????? LIKE MY GODD????? WHAT A METAPHOR for how life as a closeted or repressed person feels like you're trapped in a world as cold and impenetrable as a house of stone until the inevitability of who and what you are, as natural and impossible to keep at bay like crawling ivy, finally tears down those walls and frees you. love as powerful as nature itself will always will out.

like idc what she or straight people thinks it's about, that's what it's about to me and it's a KNOCKOUT of a song within that context like WEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

[serial-serializednovelreader]

36. Their favorite season

Mina, Jack, Arthur, Renfield, Van Helsing

Ooh love this question, anon! Spoilers under the cut (though I tried to keep it implied). Spoiler-free ask on different prompts with Jonathan here.

Mina:

Initial impressions: Fall. She feels like someone would love the fall colors, bundling up and — in a modern setting — spooky season! I can totally picture her being a stereotypical fall girlie (I say this with all the love, fall is my personal favorite season).

Final thoughts: Spring. I think she would love seeing the beauty of nature at full bloom and appreciate seeing animals, especially baby ones, coming out of hibernation. Plus, spring is the perfect time to take long strolls with Jonathan and her friends! We know she’d love to travel with him to different places and, while summer is an ideal time to do this too, I just think she’d love to go during this time of year when the landscape would be vibrant and colorful. There’s something indescribably special about spring for her!

Renfield:

First impressions & Final Thoughts: Summer. This one seemed pretty cut and dry (though feel free to give your thoughts if you think he’d have a different favorite season!!). Summer is when all of his favorite things that give him good life are up and about! Bugs are super easy to attract in the summer, as opposed to the other seasons. Beyond that, I also think he likes the feeling on the sun on his face — it’s more prominent in the summer and gives him a taste of freedom and the outside world he can’t feel otherwise… :(

Arthur:

Initial impressions: Summer. This is likely the time of year when he went traveling with the suitor squad and when Lucy accepted his proposal, so it would stand to reason it’s also his favorite time of year! With wide-open skies and the weather at a good temperature, this time of year probably makes him feel like a man in his element.

Final thoughts: Fall. I think he’s drawn to the leaves changing color and the wind in his face. I imagine he also likes the feel of bundling up and being able to hold loved ones close. I imagine after the events of the book, fall would be very hard for him to enjoy — considering the most horrific events of the book (especially the worst possible thing to him personally) takes place during the fall. However, I think he would come to enjoy it again eventually. Mainly because he’d have the Crew of Light to help him enjoy it. Plus, who else but him is going to show baby Quincey the leaves changing color?? I mean, the others could, but he’s the one who appreciates it the most!

Jack:

Initial impressions: He doesn’t have a favorite season! Seasons are things to be observed for science, not to be enjoyed.

Final thoughts: The initial impression is actually what I imagine he would say if you asked him at the beginning of Dracula but post-canon, I think he would appreciate winter the most. He would come to like sitting around a fireplace with loved ones, enjoying blankets upon blankets heaped on top of him to keep him warm (he gets cold easily). Also, while he’s improved emotionally, I think he would still like the quiet reflection he’s able to get in the winter months when he can stare off into the snow or the fireplace, thinking philosophical thoughts instead of depressing thoughts now. Of course, during Christmas, his extended family (aka the Crew of Light) would have *none* of that! Christmas is a boisterous affair…and Jack wouldn’t have it any other way. :)

Van Helsing:

Initial impressions: Winter. I’m not sure why, but I initially got winter vibes from him, and I could see it. I could definitely see Christmas being his favorite holiday, while also rattling off traditions of other winter holidays. Plus, it’s a time to be with family and he would certainly enjoy that!

Final thoughts: I think winter would be too hard for him to fully enjoy after the loss of his family (namely, Christmas). So, I think his favorite season would be spring. Like Mina (and we all know how much he loves being like Madam Mina), he enjoys seeing new life blooming after a harsh winter and serving as a constant reminder of good rebirth. I also think he would enjoy Easter for a similar reason. Fun fact: Easter egg hunts were a thing in the 1800s in England (introduced by Germans — source: this article), so I definitely think Van Helsing insisted upon hosting Easter egg hunts, especially after Quincey Harker was born. <3

Ask game here

[fifteenth-entity]

Surprised no one is talking about Tulin

Or at least not that I have seen, because just Rito village as a whole was so depressing to me, and I just feel the overwhelming urge to talk about it.

This is obviously for pre-Colgera stuff, but let me tell you, as someone who did all of the other main quests before Rito village and left it for last (cuz it's usually my favorite to do cuz I like flying and archery), going to Rito village was so horrifying at first.

It's the only place so far in TotK that I feel mimicked the feeling of desolation and abandonment as well as BotW did, because in BotW, the Rito are all so friendly to you and while they live in fear of Vah Medoh, they're not in immediate danger, which makes Rito village as a whole quite sunny and enjoyable to be around, that alongside the fact that it's a relatively easy to traverse landscape and the Rito aren't needlessly cruel to you, just rather dismissive. And then in TotK, you enter, expecting the sunniness (in attitude at least) of Rito village, only to be met with a silent, snow-capped landscape with zero life in sight.

And then you go to the market and you see it's being manned by a child. And then the only demographic you see manning the village is children. And then you realize all the adults have abandoned ship while they wait for you to come help and the children had to step up to the plate of supporting the village.

And then you meet Tulin.

In the beginning, I was slightly relieved to see Tulin be with Teba - finally, I thought, a supervised child, a child that doesn't have to take up the mantel of being an adult to survive.

And then Teba talks about the Stormwind Ark's song, a song originally sung to children, who by the way still believe in the existence of the Stormwind Ark, and how all the adults believe that the Stormwind Ark exists. And Tulin dismisses it as just a fairytale.

That crushed me. Of course Tulin has grown up, he's not the same fledgling he was in Breath of the Wild, he can hold his own. He doesn't need fairytales anymore. But even Genli, who looks to be around the same age as Tulin, believes in the Stormwind Ark. Every child and every adult believes in the Stormwind Ark, except for Tulin. This child has had to take his role as protector of the village so seriously that it has disillusioned him. Disillusionment isn't a good feeling even as an adult, but a child should not have to be disillusioned, especially when it comes to a higher protecting force like the Stormwind Ark is supposed to be. Tulin should still be allowed to believe in the existence of a Stormwind Ark. But he doesn't, and he speaks about its nonexistence with such conviction, with such confidence, that it's depressing.

Which, then, puts into context why Tulin was so dismissive of Teba's tutelage. Teba still believes that there is someone who will come save them, so the man who taught Tulin to take initiative and fight for the village's safety, isn't doing anything to help the village. Instead, Tulin's tutor sits around and waits for a saving grace that, in Tulin's eyes, is not real and will not come to save them (because why wouldn't it have come already if it were real?). So, when Teba is stressing the importance of stuff such as training and teamwork, Tulin is quick to dismiss him - Teba believes in something as fake as the Stormwind Ark, why wouldn't he believe in other fake concepts? (Yes, this mindset is extremely juvenile, but Tulin can't be more than 12.)

Link doesn't start out the BotW/TotK duology as an adult but when he joined Tulin, I was so relieved that someone more experienced would be there to take some of the burden off of Tulin. And when he got the secret stone and had to vow to help Link save Hyrule, that pained me. I didn't want to have a child accompanying me in a mission to save the world because no child should have to do that (Riju included, honestly, but Gerudo values muddle that conversation a little bit). And then I remembered it's only a ghost of Tulin that follows Link, not Tulin himself, and I felt slightly better about it.

But when you look at the wider picture, pre or post Colgera, Tulin is a child soldier, essentially, and I'm surprised I haven't seen people talk about him more as a character. When people call into question how dark TotK is, I just... immediately think of Tulin. This kid is forced to live in a dark and disillusioned reality because of the wider circumstances, and he's conditioned by those circumstances to be alright with that. I don't know if this was intentional or not, but that's quite dark on Nintendo's behalf.

And when I put it this way, there's also some parallels to draw between Tulin and Link here, but that's a different conversation for another day.

I just think this part of the story is depressing, and Tulin is my favorite character. And just to reiterate the title of the post - I'm surprised I'm the first person I've seen bring it up. I don't know if this is a bigger conversation, but if anyone has anything to add, I'd love to hear it because, owch :")

[misanthropattern]

the magnus archives is an interesting example of art that engages in both queer coding and queer representation, which are easy to confuse. discussions of queer coding are often centered around it as a negative thing, but it is not inherently so.

for example, i often engage in both queer coding and representation in my own writing. the latter i use because i want myself and my audience to feel represented by the art i’m producing. however, sometimes i still want to thematically or narratively engage with the ��otherness’ that being queer in real life often thrusts upon us.

this is where a sort of queer coding becomes useful. magical, supernatural, and monstrous elements in fiction are often partially analogous (intentionally or not) to elements and experiences in reality which fall outside social norms. if you recognize this, you can account for it, and tell a story that both features textual representation, and engages subtextually with the experience of being treated like an other because of a quality you can’t change.

this brings us to dear nikola. she’s one of my favorite characters, and part of the reason for this is her trans coding. she used to be a depressed guy; same girl. she speaks with a voice she stole; i didn’t take anybody’s literal voice box, but developing a way of talking that affirmed my gender did involve me ‘taking’ elements of how my friends and others speak. she is a literal inhuman monster; i and other trans people exist in a media landscape that often dehumanizes us and paints us as monsters.

to me, nikola is a great example of a trans coded character. she might not be trans in the sense that she’s a human person who decided to change her gender and presentation based on her internal sense of self; but many of her traits are evocative of real life trans experiences. and i don’t think there’s anything wrong with seeing ourselves in fiction this way!

i don’t think tma handles this coding perfectly, and in fact several elements of nikola’s story bother me personally. but this doesn’t ruin the show for me, and i think it’s definitely worth discussing.

[randomshyperson]

Yellow Curtains - Chapter Seven - Wanda Maximoff Series

Summary: Wanda Maximoff's senior year at Novi Grad School is duly planned for her. She has good friends, good grades, and a good system to hide who she really is. Or, the one based on Evak from the Norway Skam series, where Wanda is queer and tries to survive the last year without anyone knowing about it.

Warnings: (+18), general warnings about language and violence, legal drug use, mentions of underage drinking, high school, internalized homophobia and discovery of sexuality, explicit mentions of mental disorders (bipolarity and depression), dysfunctional family, making out, and eventual smut.

Skamverse | Series | General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

--//--

Chapter Seven - The Truth

Četrtek 14:11 (Thursday 2:11 pm)

A beautiful landscape extended in front of Wanda. She adjusted the blanket around her shoulders and blew the tea inside the cup she held, staring at the view while she could hear the sounds of her family playing in the house behind her.

She had been miserable for days after the fight, and Natalya had come up with the suggestion that they all go south of Novi Grad, to the part of the country where Django and Marya, Wanda's aunt and uncle, lived. They had two children, Ana and Mateo, who were very naughty children and whom Wanda liked very much.

It was already the last day of Hanukkah, and since the Maximoffs were not Jewish, Wanda left the table and went to a high spot on the hill in the backyard, and took advantage of the privacy to pray in silence.

She was admiring the landscape now; it would be a lie to say she wasn't thinking of you. She has, without exception, been remembering you every day. But Carol's call the day after yours, made her stop phoning.

"She's not feeling very well right now, Wanda. We're still in the hospital. With the holidays, her psychiatrist is on vacation. And she can't use a cell phone here so don't expect her to call. Just, hold tight okay? Know that she is safe. And surrounded by people who love her. She'll talk to you when she can."

Carol didn't answer any of her questions, and in a way, only made new ones come up. But Wanda was trying not to despair over the whole thing, and being around her family again made her breathe easy.

Pietro was still acting strange, but to her surprise, he was the one who took the first act toward reconciliation.

"I wouldn't want to start the year at war with you." He said - The peace offering being fruit he picked from the Maximoff garden in a decorated pot that Mateo probably helped him build. Wanda offered him a small smile, leaving the tea on a makeshift log as a table, and accepted the fruits. Pietro understood that he could approach. "Did I interrupt your prayer?"

"No, I was done." She murmurs, tasting one of the strawberries. "Did you complete yours?"

He nods, looking at the landscape before turning his gaze back to her. "How are you?"

Wanda chuckles weakly, placing the pot of strawberries next to the tea to hug her own body under the blanket. 

"I keep wondering if I'm the problem." She confesses sincerely, and he stares at her the same minute, frowning. Wanda swallows dryly. "Maybe Y/N is right, and I am just too much."

"Wanda, you're not too much." He assures. "I'm sure she'll explain this story straight out, you can't jump to conclusions."

Her eyes filled with tears. "But it's like you said isn't it Pietro? What if I'm just playing the innocent, and not seeing what I'm doing? I called her a lot and lied and hurt her and now she hates me-"

"Hey, forget I said that I didn't mean it." He interrupts guiltily, pulling her by the shoulders. "You're amazing. You're my favorite person in the whole world. I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry, okay?"

She sniffles slightly, running a hand over her face to wipe her tears. "You're nothing like Dad, either. I shouldn't-"

He denies it with his head. "Yes, I am." He interrupts with a sad smile, "And it's okay. I'm more like him, and you're more like Mom. It's just the way things are. The difference is that he hurts us on purpose, and I never intended to do that to you." Pietro says. "Can you forgive me, Wanda?"

She nods, hugging him. Her twin responds at the same time, caressing her back over the blanket. 

Pietro sighs a moment later. "I don't know what will happen between you and Y/N, but know that you won't be dealing with this alone. I'm here for whatever you need, sestra."

Wanda sniffles against his chest.

The family on Wanda's mother's side had Romani origins and were at their most devoted to the pagan faith. When Natalya married a Jewish man, it was a shock to both sides. The marriage also ended in scandal - Erik turned up with a mistress and a daughter. The divorce was peaceful after all, but it was safe to say that nobody liked Erik very much at that lunch table.

When Django asked if the twins would like to join them in traditional Wiccan celebrations, Pietro immediately refused. He had always been more connected to his father's Jewish faith than Wanda ever had been, and the girl, although she said she didn't know the customs very well, was more curious and open than her twin.

Yulefest had already started, but it went on until the first day of the new year. There was a big celebration in the nearby village, and Wanda had a good enough time to keep her thoughts away from you for the next few days.

Pietro did not participate in the celebrations but was respectful about everything. When they finally left the house of the days in January, he even surprised Wanda with some items he had asked his aunt and uncle to take home as a present to Wanda - She kept them near her bed.

–//–

Sobota 08:50 (Saturday 08:50 am)

Wanda was checking the New Year's Instagram stories of all her friends when you texted her for the first time in weeks.

"Can we meet? I want to explain everything."

Her heart leaped, and it didn't stop beating hurriedly for many minutes. Her immediate reaction was to type yes, but she hit the brakes before hitting enter.

How dare you disappear and then demand a conversation? She can't remember the last time she slept properly, not since that conversation.

She threw the cell phone on the bed, leaving you with no answer, and went into her brother's room.

Pietro was playing video games in the bedroom, and Wanda had to nudge him to get him to take off his headphones.

"I've already had coffee-"

"Not that." She interrupts gesturing briefly. "Y/N texted me."

He pauses the game on the spot, looking at her in anticipation. "So?"

Wanda crosses her arms. "She wants to meet me."

"Oh, do you need a ride or something?"

"No, I don't know if I want to go."

Pietro makes a confused face. "What, but you've only been talking about her all holiday..."

She grunts impatiently. "Yeah, that's the point!" She retorts. "She's been driving me crazy. And now she can't just text me and expect me to come crawling back. It hardly  fair."

Pietro sighs. "I think you're overthinking it." He retorts, turning his attention back to the TV. "You'll keep suffering if you stay here, and you'll never find out what really happened if you don't go to her. Besides this, it's a chance to be honest, no? You can tell her you don't want the relationship to be like this or whatever."

Wanda sighs in defeat, knowing that Pietro is right.

"I'll take the car." She declares, receiving an indignant exclamation in protest.

"No, it was my Christmas present, not yours!" He yelled in protest, but Wanda had already grabbed the keys to the refurbished car gifted by Uncle Django from the door and fled from the twin through the house.

–//–

Sobota 9:15 (Saturday 9:15 am)

She was surprised that you got there first, and thought that maybe you were waiting for her and working up the courage to send her a message.

The place where you asked to meet her was the municipal park, less than a hundred meters from the Novi Grad Cathedral, where all the commotion started. It didn't make Wanda feel easy.

She parked the car and approached unhurriedly, watching from a distance your restless posture as you checked your cell phone for new messages and looked around for her.

When she was close enough, you spotted her. Your face immediately lit up, and Wanda decided to ignore the way her stomach jumped.

"Hi, Wands."

She kept her hands in her pockets. "Hi? Is that all you have to say to me?"

You grimace softly. "Well, that's how you start a conversation."

Wanda tilts her head to the side, a dry laugh escaping her lips. "Do you really want to make jokes now? After the way you treated me?"

You swallow dryly, denying with your head and taking a step forward. "No, I want to apologize." 

"Yeah, can you clarify for what? For the way, you spoke to me, or for not returning my calls? Or maybe for sending your sister to be your errand girl or instead of having the balls yourself!" Wanda accused angrily, but you only looked guilty yourself.

"Yeah, all of it." You retorted with a sigh. "I wanted to explain everything, but I just didn't have my cell phone and-"

"What the fuck are you talking about? You called me to say you wanted to take some time away from me! I almost died of worry over the damn church video, and instead of telling me what happened, you told me to mind my own business!" She feels like she is on the verge of tears, but you take another step forward.

"Wanda, I'm sorry!" You suddenly firmly. "I wanted to call you again, and take it all back the moment I turned off my cell phone, but the nurse came into my room and took it away and I there's nothing I could do about it."

Wanda shakes her head in confusion, pushing the emotion away. "What happened to you? Why are you in the hospital?"

You look away from hers, swallowing dryly. "It was a misunderstanding. They thought I was going to jump off the church."

Wanda frowned. "Weren't you?"

You laughed dryly. "I may do some acting but if I was going to kill myself it wouldn't be so dramatic."  

Wanda stares at you. "Don't joke about those things." She tells you seriously, and you swallow dryly.

"Sorry."

"What were you doing on top of the church anyway?" She questions, and you sigh in return before pulling your cell phone out of your pocket.

"I wanted to take a picture." You say typing on the device. "I was thinking about our conversation, about faith and all that. I found out that the Cathedral in Novi Grad was built exactly in the center of the city so that everyone would be the same distance from God. And I wanted to take a picture for you from the top. I just thought, even when we are apart, or if we have disagreements, I would always be close to your God, and in this way, to you."

The photo was beautiful, she could see all the architecture of the Cathedral, but Wanda looked at you with concern. "That's almost a hundred meters off the ground. You could have fallen."

You put your cell phone away, shrugging. "I've practice Parkour since I was a kid, it was no big deal."

"No, Y/N, that was very dangerous." Wanda insisted. "It was insanity to take that risk for a photo."

You cleared your throat, taking a step back. "Okay, I understand it wasn't safe, okay, I've already heard that from the police, and the doctors, I don't need to hear it from you." You retort uneasily. "I didn't come here to talk about the church, I need to tell you something."

Wanda sighs faintly, watching you intently. You are acting so strange, and she can't define it.

"What is it?"

You take a deep breath, and then let out a nervous laugh. "Damn, I... I had this whole speech prepared, but this is so hard." You mutter, more to yourself than to her. You clear your throat and take heart. "Well, all this time I've been trying to find the right way to tell you, but I didn't know how, and I never seemed to find the right moment. You know when... I get intense, too impatient, or impulsive?"

Wanda frowns slightly. "Like the church? Or now?"

You chuckle weakly, nodding. "Yeah. Or how suddenly I get kind of gloomy... sad?" You ask, and she confirms with her head. You swallow dryly. "Well, it took a while to get the official diagnosis in my teens, but this doctor in California came to a final opinion. I have an illness. Mental one. It's called BD, which stands for Bipolar Disorder. " You count staring at your feet. "And I don't know, I didn't want to tell you because when I'm feeling good, I believe that there is nothing wrong with my brain. I talk, laugh, and really enjoy the people around me and I can forget that it's temporary while it's happening." You continue with a sad laugh, "I do everything as I should. Exercise, and socialize, and I don't drink or smoke, and I take my meds, but... well, it will never go away. There is no cure, and it's genetic, so I'll have to deal with it for life. Which doesn't mean that people have to, so I didn't want to tell you. I kept imagining your reaction, the face you would make which is very similar to the one you are doing now..."

Wanda looks away, completely in shock. You sigh and wait. She swallows dryly. "I-I don't... I don't know what to say..."

You force a small smile, shaking your head. "You don't have to say anything." You assure her sadly. "I just wanted you to know that it wasn't about you, that you never did anything wrong. I have to go back. I ran away from the hospital to talk to you. See you at school, Wands."

She was too overwhelmed with the revelations to ask you to stay.

–//–

Sobota 15:07 (Saturday 3:07 pm)

Natasha was not surprised, because Carol told her about you as soon as she returned from vacation. Apparently, the Maximoffs were the last to know.

Wanda would have been angry, but she was busy researching what bipolar disorder was with her best friend.

A dozen or so sites opened with descriptions, explanatory videos, and infographics on the computer Natasha held in her hands, and Wanda was upside down, lying on the bed next to her friend.

“Some people with bipolar disorder will have episodes of mania or hypomania many times throughout their life; others may experience them only rarely. Signs and symptoms of a manic episode include excessive happiness, hopefulness, and excitement. Sudden and severe changes in mood, such as going from being joyful to being angry and hostile. Restlessness. Rapid speech and racing thoughts. Increased energy and less need for sleep. Increased impulsivity and poor judgment, such as suddenly quitting your job, ending a relationship…”

“Turn it off.” Wanda asks and Nat pauses the video immediately, watching her friend adjust herself on the bed correctly to bury her face in the pillows.

"Hey, don't be like that. It may look bad now but maybe you just need to look at it another way..."

Wanda chuckles humorlessly, pulling the pillow off her head to look at Nat. "How else would you have done it, Nat? Haven't you heard anything? Impulsiveness, poorly thought out decisions. Like leaving her boyfriend."

"Wanda..."

The brunette sits up. "No, I'm serious!" She insists on the verge of tears. "What if... what if she doesn't even like me? If it all just happened because of one manic episode? I'll end up alone, that's what will happen."

Nat shakes her head. "Wanda, what are you talking about? How would that determine her feelings?"

Wanda sniffles softly. "I don't know, Nat. But just think about it. You've seen the videos. What if she only believes she likes me, but I'm just a fantasy? She may have grown bored of Peter and put it into her head that she could have fun with a girl now. And then she'll get tired of me just like she did of him. And who knows how many people have gone through that."

Nat sighs. "But that's falling in love, isn't it?" She reasons. "You fall in love, and you don't know how long it will last. With or without bipolarity. The insecurity you have now is the same insecurity I have about Carol. We're together today, but I don't know what will happen when we go to college for example." Natasha says, and Wanda falls silent. Her friend smiles, leaving her notebook on the bed. "Think about this, sweetheart. I'll get us something to eat."

–//–

Ponedeljek, 10:20 (Monday, 10:20 am)

"Have you talked to her yet?"

Wanda looked away from the group of people surrounding you, probably peppering you with questions about the church video, to Clint, standing beside her with a soda she asked him to pick up on his way to the cafeteria. The boy had a snack in hand, which Wanda refused a piece.

"What would I say?" She retorts half upset, making room for Clint to sit next to her on the bench in the courtyard. Pietro was a bit back in the surroundings, playing soccer with other classmates, and Natasha was with Carol making out in some bathroom.

"You can start with hello." Clint jokes, but Wanda only returns him a small smile, playing with her straw. She's not very hungry all morning. He clears his throat lightly. "Hey, what's the matter? Is this about her condition?"

Wanda sighs, shrugging. "I've been researching about it, and I think I get more scared every second." She comments sincerely. "Maybe I'm not the best person to deal with it. I don't know if I could."

It's Clint's turn to sigh. "Hey, but it's always like that when you google something, isn't it? Put in a headache and it'll make it sound like you're with terminal cancer."

Wanda gives a weak laugh, muttering a low 'I guess'. She steals glances at you from across the yard again, laughing at something they say to you. You look fine. Normal and healthy. 

"I think you could manage, Wanda." Clint says. "In the end, it's just about liking someone, and you wouldn't have any fears if Y/N said they had diabetes or something."

Wanda twitches her nose. "That's hardly the same thing-"

"Isn't it?" Clint interrupts with an arched eyebrow. "If she had a cardiac problem, you'd have to be careful about physical stimulation next to her. No effort. You could say goodbye to outdoor walks with everyone. Any blood disease, and she wouldn't be able to go to some restaurants you like. She is bipolar, which means that sometimes she will be more intense, and sometimes she will need to be alone, or you to keep her company more than you usually do. It is no big deal. Sick people just want to be well, and there are medicines for that. Carol said she's been on treatment since she was fourteen, so I imagine she can help you deal with that too."

Wanda absorbs her friend's words for a long moment, and Clint offers her a small smile before returning to eating. A moment later, Wanda moves closer to rest her head on his shoulder, and hug him from the side, she keeps her gaze on you from across the room.

"When did you get so wise, Barton?" she jokes, making you laugh.

"I'm a smart boy." He retorts, and a moment later, lets out a soft exclamation, causing Wanda to turn away to look at him curiously. The boy pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. "I almost forgot I found something for you. My stepfather needs an office apprentice at the construction company. It's boring but money is money. Would you be interested?"

Wanda's eyes widen. "What, of course, Clint! Thank you!" She hugs him tightly, both of them laughing. He mutters that she would still have to do the interview and that it was nothing guaranteed, but Wanda is too happy to call.

Ponedeljek, 11:00 (Monday, 11:00 am)

"Let's sit in the back." Natasha whispered to her as soon as they entered the history class, and Wanda laughed because she knew her friend was only asking to keep texting with her girlfriend.

Nat took the window seat, and Wanda was taking off her coat to sit beside her when you entered the room. Your gazes met from the doorway, but before she could smile at you, someone was whistling loudly and attracting your attention.

"Romeo's back from the dead everyone." Mocked Ikaris, one of your colleagues. A good portion of the room laughed, and you lowered your face, holding your backpack tighter. 

But the boy's teasing didn't go unpunished - The guidance counselor Mrs. Harkness was standing behind you at the door, precisely escorting you into the room, and the boy turned pale when she pointed her finger at him. 

"Come into my office, now." She ordered, and he came out clutching his backpack, bumping his shoulders into yours. The room filled with burbling, but Agatha called for silence. "We do not tolerate bullying or harassment of any kind at this institute, am I clear? Any mention of incent before Christmas will be punishable. Good day."

But Agatha's request may have made things worse, because those who were not aware of the video, spent the class searching for the matter and sharing it with their classmates. Wanda noticed how you seemed to cringe with each nasty whisper that circulated.

As soon as the bell rang, you practically jumped out of your seat and some people chuckled from the escape.

"You should talk to her." Natasha told Wanda, but it wasn't even necessary, because the girl was already grabbing the materials and going after you.

As the period ended, the halls filled up quickly, and Wanda had a little trouble getting through the crowd of students and catching up with you in the outer courtyard.

"Y/N, wait." She urged and had to tap your wrist to get you to stop.

You turned to her in irritation. "What do you want?"

Wanda was taken aback by the aggressiveness, but she couldn't blame you. Not after the taunts. "Hey, don't listen to those assholes, okay? They don't know shit."

You laugh dryly, looking away. "Right, because it wasn't the least bit freaky what I did. You said it yourself, it was dangerous and stupid."

Wanda frowns. "Yeah, but I didn't know..."

"That I was crazy? Well, you know now. And it clearly bothers you, because you've been ignoring me all morning!"

"N-no, I just-"

"Look, Wanda, I don't need your coup de grace." You interrupt her. "If you don't want anything to do with me, just say so, stop being a fucking pussy."

Wanda opens her mouth in shock, and you roll your eyes. She grimaces. This attitude makes her blood boil. "Be reasonable, you told me something meaningful, but I still don't know how to give you an answer. I'm still trying to understand what it all means."

You snort angrily. "I told you the truth because I'm in love with you, that's what it means!" You suddenly confess, and Wanda feels her heart stop. "And you're clearly just a fucking coward who can't handle it and doesn't feel the same way. Stop wasting my time."

"I-I didn't... I never said-."

"That's pretty simple, though, Wanda." You cut her off again, adjusting the backpack on your shoulder. "If you felt the same way, my bipolarity wouldn't matter. But you don't. Fuck this, I don't need you. Or anyone."

"Y/N..."

But you practically ran out, and Wanda had no way to call you back.

Ponedeljek, 14:05 (Monday, 02:05 pm)

With no sign that you were back at school, Wanda was leaving the courtyard alone.

Pietro was going to Clint's house to play video games, and although Nat and Carol had invited her to their apartment, Wanda hardly wanted to see her friends making out.

She was finishing putting away her belongings in the locker when Steve Rogers approached her.

"Wanda, glad I caught up with you." He said half uneasily, looking around. "Has your brother gone home already?"

"Yeah, he and Clint went to Barton's together." She replied. Steve sighed.

"Well, I guess by now you must have heard about but Tony managed to get the recording of the market."

Wanda frowned immediately. "What are you talking about?"

Steve makes a confused expression. "The fight, at Nat's birthday?"

Wanda's eyes widen in amazement. "Wait, is it serious? I thought the recording was just a rumor! How did Tony get it, and more importantly, who hit my brother?"

Steve hesitates. "Look, if Pietro didn't tell you, maybe I shouldn't..."

"Spit it out, Rogers." She demands seriously, and Steve swallows dryly before pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. He searches for a moment for the video in the chat room with Tony Stark and then holds out the device for Wanda to see.

It's a security video from a market parking lot. Wanda recognizes Pietro laughing and talking with Barry Allen outside, imagining that Clint and Bucky were inside buying the beers.

And then Barry is grabbing Pietro by the collar of his shirt and kisses him on the mouth. Pietro is clearly surprised but corresponds before pushing him away with a giggle. It all lasts less than five seconds. There is a car stopped a few feet away from them, and from it, three identical boys that Wanda recognizes from the Synagogue get off. 

"Hey, fags!" The audio is precarious but still audible, and it is the tallest boy who steps forward. Wanda thinks his name is Jake, but she's not sure. Of the triplets, Wanda only liked the shy Steven. Jake laughs when the two boys turn around. "Oh my god, is that you Maximoff? Does your daddy know what you're up to?"

Pietro freezes, completely terrified. Jake advances against him, so Barry pushes him away. And at that, the fight escalates.

It's left to Steven to pull the brothers away when Bucky and Clint leave the market and interfere in the fight, the market owner armed with a bat. The action doesn't even last 3 minutes, but Pietro is the one who ends up the most injured.

Steve puts his cell phone away. "Pietro didn't want to press charges, he didn't even want to tell us who the boys were." 

"It's because of our father." Wanda explains, pressing her hands to her face for a moment. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Hey, Tony said he's not going to do anything he doesn't want to." Steve says placing a hand on her shoulder. "But these things shouldn't go unpunished. We have the video, but the complaint has to come from the victim."

"I'll talk to him." Wanda assures. "Thanks, Steve."

"Anytime."

Ponedeljek, 20:31 (Monday, 08:31 pm)

"You took your time."

"Jesus, Wanda!" Pietro gasped in fright, having opened the bedroom door to his sister waiting for him inside.

Wanda rolled her eyes, and got up from the bed, dropping her cell phone and crossing her arms.

"Close the door."

He raised an eyebrow. "What's that, are you going to kill me or something?"

She rolls her eyes, and uncrosses her arms, moving him out of the way to close the door herself. Pietro looks at her with confusion.

"You're going to press charges against Jake Lockley." 

Pietro turns pale before his face flushes with irritation. "How did you... No, you know what, it doesn't matter. You're a damn meddler, aren't you?"

"Pietro-"

"I'm serious! I told you to forget that story, why do you care anyway?" He retorted angrily, stepping aside to take off his sweater and shoes. Wanda crossed her arms.

"You are my brother! I care about you, and whether you are safe outside our house!"

He rolled his eyes stubbornly, but Wanda stepped forward. "I'm serious. This isn't right, Pietro. He can't get away with it!"

"Daddy would kill me!" Pietro squirms with tears in his eyes. Wanda's eyes widen. "You don't... It's different for you, okay? He may say those horrible things, but you're still his little girl. He wouldn't hurt you. But me-"

"Except it's not like that." Wanda insists seriously. "That's the fear talking. Daddy has already hurt me, you know that. And he would have hit me again in that restaurant if you hadn't said anything." She recalls, and the boy looks away. Wanda sighs, moving closer. "Pietro, is that why you told him I liked girls? To find out how he would react when you told him about yourself?"

He nodded sheepishly. "I like girls too, Wanda. I just...I thought I could pretend I didn't care about boys because I'm into Crystal. But that's not how it works. No matter what I do, this part just won't go away."

"Oh, Pietro, there's nothing wrong with liking both. Come here." She sits down next to him, hugging him. He sniffles, seeming to finally relax after many days. "We'll deal with this together, okay, and with Mom, too."

Pietro sobs softly, but nods in acceptance. Wanda holds him until he stops crying.

[windstrikenbard]

Mika Schmidt Headcannons

y'all

This guy is giving me so much brainrot. So suffer. Here we go, Headcannons.

Mika covers for his brother. Yes, he does. In his letters to his parents, he'll say that Huffman is nice, that Huffman does his responsibilities and that he even does some of Mika's chores sometimes. When he was younger, he'd use stories he heard from the other kids for things to tell his parents - oh, Huffman took me to the ice cream place today! We went on a picnic today! Of course, it was never true.

Only those closest to Mika can ever sense the fake smile he gives when talking about his family. don't get me wrong, he LOVES his family, but the fact his parents left to go adventuring and the resulting actions that led to Mika raising himself AND his older brother (who was supposed to be letting him be a child instead of worrying about taking care of a drunk brother all the time) leaves him with a feeling of emptiness.

He overcompensates his own lack of childhood by letting Klee have as much fun as she could dream of. He's yet another big brother to her, who'll let her blow up the landscape of Mondstadt and wordlessly change the maps of Mondstadt with a soft smile.

He feels unworthy of his achievements, and those feelings only intensified when Varka took him on the expedition. And although he gained more confidence on the trip, he's still too nervous to stop the nasty rumors that spread claiming he fought a fatui harbinger head on (he didn't, Varka had remained calm and settled the tension between the two groups)

He pays all the bills. Obviously, his parents send home Mora every now and then, but his checks from the Knights of Favonius go straight into the household. After all, his brother is wasting all his money getting drunk...

Sometimes he lets Diona come over to de-stress over the fact her dad is a raging alcoholic. Although they don't talk often, they have a closer connection to each other because of the fact their families suck.

He makes Bennett maps everytime he goes out, and always has a few extras in case Bennett looses them, or ruins them, or his bad luck does SOMETHING to them.

He helps supply Timmie the amount of money needed for all the bird seed he feeds the pigeons on the bridge.

My guy is so precious and depressed and anxious and Mika angst is now my favorite thing okay bye

[javomelancholie]

Happy Birthday, Albedo! 🎉🥂🎂

I love you with all my heart 💖

You are the best character in Genshin Impact 😙

"Dragonspine is one of my favorite places to visit and collect inspiration during my leisure time.

Just like now, the skies have cleared after the snowfall and birds are chirping lively. Setting up an easel here is bound to capture a remarkable scene.

However, the snowy landscape can be too serene, and painting just the scenery might leave the composition feeling somewhat sparse. If only I could add a figure to it... Hmm, you'd be willing to model for me?

Alright, then come over here. Fret not, just stay in your most comfortable, natural state."

"Okay, come over here."

Lumine fell into his arms 🥰

Albedo is so good in his language art skills.

I would like to remind that last year Albedo and Lumine were drawing for each other on Albedo's birthday. The painting was called: "You and I" (omg I am still not over it)

He could talk about anything but he specifically chose to talk to Lumine about something romantic once again - the experiment which Timaeus did for his beloved (what Albedo is hinting here? 😏)

"Timaeus was depressed for a while because he didn't make the flower for his beloved"

By this analogy Albedo was also depressed for a while because he hadn't seen Lumine for a long time. This Natlan material is just a pretext to lure Lumine to see him. His little tricks can't be hidden 😌

And this is what excites me the most - he is paying attention to Lumine's journey to Natlan! They want to explore it together! He invited her to investigate this world with him again just like in his feelings about ascension.

Don't worry, Albedo, I have been taking you with me every day since the day I went to Natlan! 🥹💖

"I can serve as your assistant"

What kind of a new play is this??

You know how to play it!

Can you be my hubby instead

What do you mean "He's fictional character"?

I need him!

"Captain Albedo, please take a look! This is my latest sketch from practice! ...What do you think?"

"...Well, if you consider it a form of relaxation, it's not bad."

Omg when I saw Mika for the first time I thought that he looks like an albelumi child who came from the future 😂

I still keep seeing him this way esp if he is around Albedo, Lumine or Klee xd

[diskaywrites]

WHUMPTOBER 2024

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩��� #𝟐: 𝐀𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚 𝐱 𝐊𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 (𝐨𝐜) 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐎𝐟: 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐭 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛, 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞: 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧

.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽..✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽..✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽..✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽..✽✦✽.◦.✽

Kelani Johnson guessed it was possible to be depressed while eating a Dole Whip at Magic Kingdom, she had just yet to experience it.

Everything in the landscape of AEW seemed to be changing so quickly since All Out and no one had felt its shift more than Wheeler Yuta. Kelani couldn't fathom how he felt, watching as the family he had built with the Blackpool Combat Club crumbled in front of his very eyes while he had been helpless to stop it. Had she had a bit of cruelty in her heart or the ability to hold a grudge, Kelani would have pointed out that it was possibly karma coming to collect its due. After all, hadn't Wheeler once caused that sadness when he broke way from a different family he had been welcomed into?

But that wasn't who Kelani was.

Instead, when Wheeler had come to her as a broken man, Kelani had welcomed her friend back with open arms. The sadness in his eyes had been enough for Kelani to embrace her old friend, even if he hadn't hugged back. All that mattered was that Wheeler knew he was loved and that if he needed a shoulder to cry on, she'd be there for him. It was Wheeler who had asked about her favorite place in the world, asked if they could attend the Halloween festivities, and Kelani would never deny someone in need.

Especially not if it involved her happy place.

The duo were tucked away by Aloha Isle, the facade of the building looking like a traditional Hawaiian building with its straw thatched roof and wooden frame. Next to them was the spinning carpets, the guests who were prayed by the golden spitting camel beside it squealing as they passed on their way to different rides. The smells of a jungle cruise were mixed with the spices of an Agrabah bazaar. It was chaotic, but less so than Fantasyland or Main Street.

"You're right," Wheeler gave a chuckle as he sat next to her on the bench, "this is delicious."

In his hand was a Pineapple Float, the tangy taste of pineapple juice made just a little moreso by the cooling pineapple ice cream. He brought the spoon to his lips, the smile on his face not quite reaching his eyes.

"My favorite way to try to cheer myself up," Kelani beamed, sipping from the green paper straw in her own cup of the dessert, "came here when..."

She stopped herself, not wanting to bring up something that would remind her friend of what he was going through. Kelani remembered sitting on this very bench, alone and wondering how she would keep the little group of best friends together after they had been abandoned by the man who sat next to her.

In the long run, the answer had been that she hadn't.

Wheeler sat the cup next to him, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Had he not been wearing the classic Mickey eared hat, it would have looked at home in a hospital or funeral parlor. Kelani supposed that was fitting, seeing what had happened to Danielson with that plastic bag. "Does it ever go away? This feeling like the world is gonna crash in around you?"

Kelani put a hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles against the Aladdin spirit jersey he wore, "Do you want the truth or..."

"The truth," Wheeler sighed, "Bryan would want me to hear the truth."

"No," Kelani admitted, black curls bouncing as she did so, "I still find myself thinking about how together we all were, about losing all of it. But...each day you get up, it hurts a little less until it only crosses your mind from time to time. You move on, but it never stops hurting."

Wheeler sat up, drawing in an almost meditative breath, "I'm sorry, ya know, for..."

"It's okay," Kelani waved off as she used the plastic spoon in her hand to take a bite of her pineapple ice cream, "I'm sorry I brought it up."

Wheeler took a look around the small section of the park they sat in together, giving a small chuckle, "There are worse places to be depressed. Now c'mon, I wanna be depressed on Pirates of the Carribean."

[nictelsm]

In addition to my MSPA ideas

Prison Part 2, also known as Jailbreak: Extended Play, is basically a different version of the Jailbreak adventure, including dialogue, animation, narrative shiftings from 1st person to 2nd person between characters, and even interactive pages... IF I CAN CODE THEM. Each stick figure character will be named, and some will look distinct.

This is the "Beyond Canon Mockery" adventure I mentioned on my previous post, also known as "Homestuck: Beyond Fucked Up" or "Beyond Awful." It's a changearound of Beyond Canon's story, with worsened content, but mocked in a self-aware way, has a lot of pop culture stuff, also mocks the controversy and culture around Homestuck, and introduces a character named " The Story Wizard," an obnoxious, plot fiddling, story changing, retconning, King of Town alien who's always here to make the story worse. In this adventure, John actually hates everything around him, probably just me making fun of his descent into depression, wheras in the original comic he's an emo James Rolfe, while here, he's nihilistic.

Freeplay is an adventure with no plot, no story, no gods, no masters, no author, just fun, but a few set of rules. You can do anything you want here. It's the infinite canvas of MS Paint Adventures, with loads of creativity for one simple panel.

There are a trinity of commands, however. NULLIFY will reset everything, REGRESS will revert a command that someone has submitted, and DISORDER will scramble the story you create into random, inconvenient places.

Nepal Silo was an adventure I was thinking about earlier this year. It's about a group of young researchers who live on a cold, snowy landscape, sometimes peppered with aliens and oddities. It's gonna have the same style as Homestuck, but it's not gonna have that "There's a teenager in his room and he shall be named, plus a world ending supergame" bullshit.

I was also planning to give this adventure a Kelly Bailey inspired soundtrack, obviously because of the planned influence from Half Life.

And here is one I dare to create. Adventure Boy! Planned to be an adventure about some kid (oddly looking similar to Zoosmell Pooplord) in a fantasy world that doesn't know him at all. The main, titular character is extremely joyful, almost stereotype joyful, and yet the world he's in ranges from dark to careless. Yeah, it's obviously one big trope made into an MS Paint Adventure, but I don't care.

Another one I'm thinking about is this oddball. It's a story about your favorite spider bitch doing really stupid stuff towards every other troll in the style of a Homestar Runner storybook (See: Sbemail 100 or Homestar Enters the Strongest Man in the World Contest). Later in the book, the protagonist redeems herself off of being too mean.

But least could we forget, another project in the making. It's been done before, but we'll do it again. Comedy gold, adequate. Irony, stunning.

SWEET BOR AND HELLA JYEFF VIDYA GAEM DUDES INNERACTIVE COMIC made by ya boy Dave s. with iorny

Yes, I'm doing a Sweet Bro & Hella Jeff adventure. This one is more gaming based than slice of life or adventure. Think of it as early SBaHJ.

There's also gonna be a few new "bros" introduced into this comic. One's with a green shirt whom I call "THAT DUDE," and a pink shirt named "STAN-SO-CASH." Does Geromy count as a bro? WHO KNOWS!

At last, we have this.

An MS Paint Adventures adaptation of Homestar Runner's "Thy Dungeonman." This is basically gonna be a warm-up to everything else I'll do on MSPFA, sort of a practice to see if I can actually work on what I can correctly. I ended up doing Jailbreak: Extended Play first. The command system of Thy Dungeonman would be really hard to replicate in the MS Paint Adventures format, so suggestions will be sent one by one. Or I could just do the Bard Quest treatment.

So uh, BYE!