#how am i supposed to live in this reality with this kind of standard

[artemiesya]

FHH spoiler

It hurts to think how similar Rosalind and Orion are to each other… especially on the part that they were often left out by their own family… Rosalind was being kept in dark by Celia about Juliette’s being safe from the explosion in 1928 while Orion doesnt know anything about Phoebe being the Priest in Communist and being handled by Oliver… Like i get it that both sides tried have their own valid readon to do so but it just hurt me how Orion and Rosalind need to find each other and only then they found someone who truly understand themselves…

Sometimes i wonder how Rosalind and Orion could have better chemistry when they only literally know each other for weeks only before Orion had his memory lost and they were separated for months, compared to the couples such as Phoebe Silas had known each other for more than a decade, Celia and Oliver been partners for 5 years, Roma and Juliette been a couple and soulmate before the disaster took place and Marshall Benedikt also known each other for so long… its really wonderful how Orion and Rosalind can accept each other despite having little time to really know each other AND EVEN SO, there still a lot of layers, secrets that they kept from each other…

And the fact that Orion recognised her when he was in total control by Lady Hong tells us how much he loves her deep down in his heart… plus, his body do recognise her, its like in his instinct to grab Rosalind all the time JUST DESCRIBE HOW HE TRULY LOVES HER and im gonna stop my list here because otherwise it wont stop 🙇🏼‍♀️

but well, i guess Rosarion is just really written in stars, that they were really fated for each other and im truly love the idea so much and wont ever complained about it 🫶🏻

[vor-leser]

Benny now an animal, I knew AM would let him play.

(Stuff about my own version of pre-monkeyification Benny below the cut because i have too many thoughts on this)

It's kind of hard to make heads or tails of any of the ihnmaims characters since the cannons of the different adaptations contradict each other so much, so I reconciled my own version of events in my head as to what I think Benny was like pre monkeyfication. I tried to fit everything from the comic, game and book in though.

Benny was a very masculine guy, excelling in every sport, and despising everyone who did not live up to his standard of what it meant to be a strong man. All his life, he tried to embody this ideal, not only marrying and having two kids, but going on to join the military. When he became general, he was known amongst the soldiers as an authoritarian punitive leader, often abusing those below him to whip the weak ones into shape. His ideals were solidified under the pressure of the continuing third world war, instilling a kill or be killed mentality into him. Eventually, he came to the realization that he was gay. However, because this reality threatened to break apart the way he viewed the world and his masculinity. With the mounting pressures from a chain of losses and his own internal struggles, he reacted by overcompensating and becoming more brutal than ever, leading him to kill multiple of his own men. Returning from the Chinese American War, he developed a severe case of PTSD. Constantly making him feel as if his life was at stake, he found himself unable to show any weakness. He hid his own war crimes thoroughly, all the while continuing to receive accolades from his superiors for his tenure. He constantly felt the need to not only hide his crimes, but also his sexuality, making him paranoid that people would realize he was a fraud. This did not only put a strain on him, but also on his family.

AM specifically chose Benny, because he embodied the many ways in which humanity tore itself apart through war, constantly finding new methods to make their own existence miserable for an imagined ideal.

At first, Bennys presence among the survivors proved very useful. Out of all of them, he had the most experience in dangerous situations and a lot of physical strength. His wisdom and leadership helped them a great deal, eventually though, they would inevitably disappoint him. Falling into his old patterns of behavior, he would berate Nimdok the most for his obvious weakness, saying he was holding them back. With time, he did the same with Ellen, Ted and even Gorrister, which formed a rift between himself and all of them. He felt as if he could rely on no one but himself.

Still, his usefulness irked AM. He had gotten one over on him too many times, but this would make his coming defeat even more crushing. It started with his mental state. Paranoia had already slowly crept up on Benny, but when he was forced to relive his trauma, it spiraled out of control. Being starved, beaten and defeated, he started to lose his humanity. His egoism, distrust and brutality, all born out a desire for survival made him a nightmare for the others. AM found it amusing, how he had turned Benny into a parody of humanity and its worst aspects, seeing it fit to strip him of his last remaining bits of humaneness, breaking his body into the shape of an ape-thing.

His spirits were now completely broken, being reduced to a bumbling fool. Even though his shame mellowed him out, there were still occasional outbursts. Now ironically enough, he had become the survivors greatest liability. Luckily for him, the others pity him and keep him around, a kindness he likely wouldn't have awarded them.

(Also drawing a guy thats canonically supposed to look handsome while making him resemble a monkey is hard :,) )

[robo-writing]

Hello! Love your Logan fics! If I could, could I ask for x-men trilogy Logan finding out what a hurricane shot is?(it’s where the guy takes a shot of alcohol and then a bartender (usually a really pretty woman that’s sitting on top the bar in front of the guy) splashes him with water and slaps him across the face. (really popular in the college towns in Florida) like scott mentions he had a hurricane shot when he was in high school during a senior trip to Florida and Logan asks what the hell that is. And his crush just goes “you don’t know what that is?! You drink booze for a living and you don’t know what that is???!” And precedes to just show him much to Scott laughing his ass off at seeing Logan getting drenched in water and slapped across the face, and Logan just fucking bewildered what the hell just happened and probably a bit horny (he got a pain kink, so getting slapped by his crush is like up his alley)

"The fuck is a hurricane shot?" Both you and scott's ears perk up, him being the first to express his surprise. "You've never heard of a hurricane shot?" "Am I suppose to?" He asks, getting just the slightest bit annoyed at how you two giggle between each other, some kind of secret language between the two of you.

“I’m just surprised is all,” you say, looking at him with mild amusement. “You’re the guy with his name tag on the barstool, so…”

“Real fuckin’ funny,” he huffs. “So what is it?”

You look up at him mischievously. “I think I’d rather just show you.”

Scott’s eyebrows go all the way up, a massive grin on his face. “Yeah, you should let her show you.”

You’re both snickering again and it almost makes him nervous. Almost.

“Sure, date and time?”

“Today, and now,” you say, running to the kitchen sink. You’re filling up a glass of water while Scott suddenly has his phone recording, more and more questions running through his head by the second.

“Okay, here’s your shot,” you say, sliding over a glass of rum. You’re holding a glass of water, looking down at it with barely contained excitement. “Do I have your permission?”

“Permission to what?”

“I can’t say.”

Logan’s feels his eye twitch. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I can’t tell you, it’s a surprise!” You reply, a cheeky grin spreading across your face. “It’s a yes or no Logan.”

He weights his options for a minute, figures that whatever you two’ve got planned he can kick your asses for it later, and with a shrug says—

“Fuck it, sure.”

You nod in his direction, eyes pointing to the glass, and with no theatrics he downs the entire thing in just one gulp. There’s nothing special about the shot, just the standard burn that accompanies it.

No, what’s special is what comes after.

The same moment the glass leaves his lips, the cup of water you were holding is thrown in his face. Before he can ask what the hell you’re doing, his face is whipped around.

You slapped him—rather hard, in fact. So unexpected he’s forced to stare off into nothing for a while before reality hits him.

He’s stood in shock, Scott laughing in the background while you complain about your sore hand. He’s drenched head to toe, still collecting his thoughts.

“What…was that?” He asks, hand reaching up to rub his cheek.

“That, my good friend, was a hurricane shot,” Scott replies, patting Logan on the back as he goes off to play his captured footage on loop. “Florida’s a wonderful place.”

You follow behind, chasing after Scott with a shout of “Lemme see!” Before the both of you disappear.

Logan’s stood in the kitchen by himself—and of everything that’s just happened to him, he can only conjure up a single thought.

That was really, really, hot.

[cer-rata]

Fic WIP: "Welcome home(?) Chris Kent!"

Chris sighed. “...So yeah, I don’t really remember being an adult. Just bits and pieces. I remember Thara, and the Nightwing. Um. That’s about it on details.”

B+ nodded and rubbed his chin. Chris was intentionally leaving things out, that’s what his spot analysis of his body-language, mannerisms and tone told him. Perhaps he’d be willing to share more later when they were friends…if B+ didn’t manage to mess it up.  “Fascinating series of events for a twelve-year-old. Disturbing, in many ways.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “I’m not really twelve, I’m actually an adult, I just look like--”

B+ shook his head and looked down at the datapad that was monitoring Chris' vitals. “No. No, I'm pained to inform you that you’ve misunderstood the flow of your life.”

Chris frowned. “...What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, from what I can tell, you didn’t live an accelerated life in that you lived at a normal pace in a pocket of reality that moved faster along the timeline than the one you originated from. Rather, your body aged more quickly than it should have on a purely physical level. Sure, that meant your brain reached a certain stage of development sooner, but you didn’t gain the experience you would have had from living into adulthood naturally, so experientially you didn’t really age at all. Legally, and ethically you were always a child. And that would be true even if you did remember everything. 

“So really I could still say you were six or seven, but with the accumulated experience you lived through and do remember...and though you were incorporeal when you were in the phantom zone the second time, and I have no concrete way of knowing how long you were there for…I do know that Kon-El is also from your timeline and only remembers a year passing between when he was lost and when Impulse found him. That was five or six years ago now, and you were conscious for that period of time. Meaning: I think eleven or twelve is probably fair. I can go with twelve if that makes you feel any better. Luckily, that’s about where your body ended up as well.”

Chris stared at him with wide eyes. Then his lips twisted and he sat back down on the floor of his containment chamber. “...Oh. I…I guess that makes sense.”

B+ nodded without looking up from the data he was reading. “It does, but I still think it’s kind of messed up, actually. The adults sent me to talk to you because they’re all upset and didn’t want you to pick up on it. Subconsciously they seem to think that I don’t process emotion still and as such wouldn’t bother you by being agitated. Bias from experience with my predecessor. I am not hurt by it, but…I do hope to at some point convince them that I am truly a separate being.” His third eye flicked up and over to look at Chris and caught the alarmed recognition in his eyes in the second before he was able to hide it. “...Sorry, I didn’t mean to talk about myself. I was going to say that I am also upset: You shouldn’t have had an adult girlfriend when you were cognitively six or seven. Very weird for both human and Kryptonian standards. Bird gods be damned.”

Chris hugged himself. “I mean…I mean from what I remember, she was nice.”

B+ desperately wanted to break down the reasons why that didn’t matter, but it wasn’t the right moment, and he felt it would be better coming from someone like Ms. Lane. So he smoothed it over. 

...Well, he tried to. “She could have been, I’m not implying that it was…”He paused. “...Well maybe I am implying that it was somewhat predatory, but I doubt she really considered the implications enough for me to judge her as anything more than shortsighted. Perhaps neither of you were completely acting on your own volition even, because again, bird gods. I’m…not trying to make you feel bad, am I making you feel bad?”

Chris looked away. “...A little.”

B+ winced and looked directly at him with all three eyes. He even devoted half of his processes to the conversation, which was dramatic overkill really, but he felt bad.

 “I apologize. Sometimes I talk through thoughts that I should probably process silently. Um…wait, hold on.” He closed his eyes for a second and then opened them again. “Okay, the likelihood that they’ll bother us in the next half hour is low, they’re tending to a minor disaster.” 

Chris’ mask dropped and B+ could see how nervous he was.

“...Why…what are you going to do to me?”

B+ had been reaching towards the containment field, but when Chris asked that fearful question, he pulled his hand back like he’d been burned.

“Nothing! I wouldn’t--I don’t…” His lips wobbled as he tried to not get upset. It was frustrating sometimes, being so young and knowing so many things. On the one hand he wanted to be taken seriously, to be seen as competent…but on the other, he was still chronologically two, developmentally nine, and that meant that it was hard to mitigate his feelings sometimes. Conrad had reassured him that it was normal, but he knew that already. Normal or not, it was still embarrassing. He sighed. “...I was just going to sit next to you. I thought…I thought it might make you feel better after I upset you by being callous. I don’t have to, I can just--”

Chris’ expression softened considerably. “Wait, what? Wouldn’t the Phantom Zone energy be bad for you?”

“No, I can handle it fine.” It was a lie, it was going to be incredibly uncomfortable, but not so much that he couldn’t hide it from Chris, so it was acceptable.

Chris stood up. “Well…I mean yeah, then that would be okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out, just--”

“You’ve been treated as an experiment and tool before…and in a sense I am…Brainiac. That was…that was the kind of thing he did, so it is not inappropriate to be...vigilant.” B+ was thankful at that moment that he’d decided not to install synthetic tear ducts into his current iteration. “Um. Step back just a little? Please?”

Chris pressed lips together in concern, but took a step back. B+ reached out again and touched the containment field, and his skin shifted color just slightly from its bright turquoise to something closer to matching the shade of the barrier, before he walked through said barrier like it wasn’t there. Chris looked him over cautiously. “...You sure you’re okay?”

B+ nodded. “I am sure.” He stretched a bit to try to look casual about the fact that the way the zone energy interfered with his connection to turquoise light made his synthetic muscles burn. It was fine. He wasn’t a baby. He took a seat on the floor, and Chris sat next to him.

“If you would like to ask me questions, you may, I think that’s fair. You aren’t my experiment, friends share information reciprocally, and I’d…I’d like to be…that.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Metron’s countenance, I am awkward.”

Chris giggled. “No, you’re fine. This is all kinda awkward I think. For most people it’d be worse. You use a bunch of words I don’t know, though.”

“Sorry.”

Chris offered him a warm smile and patted him on the shoulder, and B+ had to stop himself from wincing at the pain. This was a good sign, a positive interaction that suggested Chris had not decided to fear him. The discomfort had purpose.

“So,” Chris went on, “How old are you? Cause I dunno what your deal is, but you seem to have a lot going on.”

B+ snorted. “Yes that…yes. Um. Technically I…emotionally I am about nine or ten, experientially…is complicated, because I have the knowledge of…quite a few civilizations stored in my mind, so I know and understand quite a bit. Chronologically my body is roughly…two years old at this point?” B+ knew that he was exactly eighteen months, three-hundred hours, thirty-two minutes and fifteen seconds old--but he thought rounding it up sounded better. 

Chris slowly turned to him and smirked. “So I just got a lecture about how my girlfriend was inappropriate from a toddler?”

B+ rolled all three of his eyes. “I’m not a toddler!”

“Awww look at the little guy!” Chris teased and poked B+ in the side.

…Which was not something B+ expected him to do, and so he wasn’t prepared to stop his automatic reaction. It tickled as intended, but it also hurt because at that point everything hurt, and he made a sound that was something between an embarrassed giggle and a pained groan. You could probably call it a whimper. 

Chris pulled his hand back. “Wh--did I hurt you? I thought I didn’t have my powers, I’m sorry--”

“No!” B+ waved him off and then winced at how much that action hurt. “It’s fine, you did nothing wrong, my chassis is strong enough that I wouldn’t be concerned if you did have your powers, it’s just--”

“You lied to me about the zone being fine?”

B+ sighed. Why couldn’t he have been somewhat dense like the other Lor-Zod?

 “...Yes. I thought it wouldn’t be this bad and wanted you to feel better--ahh!”

B+ yelped in surprise (and pain) as Chris gently picked him up and brought him back to the edge of containment. “Out! Go! Before you hurt yourself any more.”

“But--”

“It’s fine! We can hug later or whatever!”

B+’ cheeks warmed, which was confusing for him because he didn’t really have blood, but he stepped back through the barrier like he was told to. Instantly he felt his connection return, and the pain was replaced by the strength he hadn’t realized he’d lost. He turned back to Chris. “Sorry--”

“Please don’t do that again.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on--”

“I mean hurting yourself so I don’t think you’re bad. Don’t do that.”

B+ was somewhat disturbed that Chris had picked up on that. “I…what?”

Chris looked directly into B+’ two primary eyes. His expression read as genuine concern and compassion. It made B+ nervous. “I don’t think you’re Brainiac, and I don’t think you wanna hurt me, okay? We’re good. I like you. You’re kind of funny in like an alien way. Which, as an alien, works for me.”

B+ rolled his eyes and snorted. “...Alright. I appreciate that.”

“Plus, I’m not gonna be scared of a two-year old.” Chris smiled.

“I’m not--” B+ shook his head. He had to claw some of his dignity back somehow. “I’m going to get you out of that tube before the day is out.”

Chris balked. “...What? But...but Kal-El and Batman and Mr. Terrific said it could take--”

“RIP to them, but I’m built different. Literally. Besides, I understand your biology better than any existing being. If I can’t figure this out in the next six hours, I might as well retire and go live on a farm. Ew.”

“Farms are cool!”

“Farms are outdated, just synthesize the food with an atomic reconstructor, they’re not hard to--you know what, I’m actually going to focus all my processes on you, which means I really like you, because I was watching ‘The Great British Bake Off' for most of this conversation. I love that show. But…I still think the British owe this planet more reparations. Anyway, give me seventeen minutes.”

Chris was about to ask another question, but B+’ face went blank and his eyes all started glowing bright turquoise at once, so it was clear that the conversation was over. Or at least…paused.

[fernsnailz]

the story and lore of your ocs sounds so cool and also. comforting? yeah. i turn 21 very soon and feel like i want to shrivel up and die every time i think about the societal structure of what Adulthood is and stories abt being lost and unsure of your place in a world that is manufactured to treat people as expendable (especially those who can’t fit into the standard of what “peak performance” is) feel like a bandage of some kind. sorry if this is like. a little personal or something i just wanna say that your ocs seem very neat

you're good! that's exactly what i'd like it to be tbh - being in your 20's is such a weird time. there's so much uncertainty and confusion because there's this expectation that you're supposed to have everything figured out soon. but in reality, this is the time where people change the most. i think about who i was when i was 20 and it feels like they're a completely different person from who i am now - and i'm only 23!! so much shit happened in those three years that changed me in more ways than i can even remember, and everything that hit me left me more and more unsure about who i was. it's hard to live the "normal" life you want when it feels like the world is always against you, like it's not built for you, or like you were created without a purpose.

but sometimes it's really comforting to know that most people around this age have very similar struggles. no one knows what the fuck is going on. and personally, that connection has sorta kept me grounded me through this weird period of my life and is something that has definitely been a foundation of a lot of my current personal beliefs: everyone is still learning how to live and learning how to be a person, including you - and that's alright. and i'd like to capture that connection through uncertainty with my oc's story as well (if i ever actually make it lol). i'd like the story to wander a bit, to be uncertain and a little lost, to emulate what it feels like to be a person at this age. it's definitely something i'm developing as a way to provide a bit of catharsis to myself personally, but i'd hope that it could bring that same feeling to other people who also have no fucking idea what's going on (IF I EVER MAKE THE STORY INTO ANYTHING. NO PROMISES RIGHT NOW THO)

in short. shit's wild! it might get kinda rough! but you're not alone and you're allowed to use this time to learn and make mistakes and figure things out at your own pace :] go get em!

[maybeamagpie]

Maria's Ornithology Lessons

For @incorrect-quotes-of-moonacre, thank you for all the care you give us and for the community you built :)

[Read on AO3]

Chapter 1 - How to Survive in the Country

When Rosie told Maria she was to live with her uncle in the countryside for the year of her father’s work abroad, Maria knew to expect very little. She wasn’t a romantic - some kind of Austenian romance in a beautiful mansion didn’t happen in reality. Not the one where she lived anyway. When Rosie said that the Silverydew high school paperwork had already been completed and apparently her uncle and his wife were more than happy to spare a room, she seemed apologetic. The secretary and Maria had a friendly relationship, exchanging gifts on Christmas, Rosie giving Maria some very good books for her birthdays and being the only link between Maria and her father when he was working, were just the cherry on top. Despite Maria’s indifferent expression when Rosie dropped her off, inside she wished to stay in the car.

“Well,” Rosie pulled the parking brake and let go of the clutch and brake pedal. “We’ve arrived.” Maria glanced antagonistically at the big and beautiful but also in a state of half-ruin mansion. She turned to Rosie. “You really can’t stay here for a night or two?” she asked and hoped she didn’t sound too childish. Rosie shook her head and the many braids gently swayed. “I’m sorry, Maria, you know how I’d like to help you, but your father needs me back tomorrow.”

It took them six hours to get here. The ride was awfully long for human standards - luckily enough Maria’s cat was happily sleeping in his crate on the backseat. Maria pursed her lips. Out of nowhere a chicken ran across the road, jumped on the hood of the car and, followed by a small bird, disappeared into some bushes. Rosie giggled. Maria’s grimace just darkened. “How am I supposed to live in the country? It’s so full of countryside!” She pointed at the bush with a bewildered face. Rosie solemnly nodded. “It’s really not that bad, Maria,” she assured, “I grew up in Wales in a village with no more than twenty people. It was very… it was a very insular community.” Maria, used to the hustle and bustle of London, muttered mockingly: “it was the ass of the world, that’s what it was.” “Maria!” reprimanded her Rosie. “I’m sure you’ll find it at least pleasing. Did Laura or Clarisse text you back?” Maria, for the uncountable time this car ride, checked her phone. “There’s no signal!” she exclaimed and slumped into the carseat. She turned to Rosie with a pitiful face. “How am I supposed to survive?” Rosie gently petted her knee. “I’ll inform them to write you SMS messages.” “Gods! They might as well write me e-mails!” She narrowed her eyes, “or actual letters. Rosie, we really can’t just go back?” Rosie deeply sighed. “You know there’s no one to take care of you in London. And the paperwork is done!” Maria waved it off as if the legal matters of this were just a small bump in the road. “I could live with you!” she argued helplessly. Rosie shook her head. “My apartment is not big enough for the two of us, Maria.” “We can live in our townhouse, please, Rosie!” Rosie bit her bottom lip. She furrowed her eyebrows before sighing defeatedly. “Do you want to know the real reason you were sent here?” Maria nodded her head rapidly. Rosie thickly swallowed. “You know how you’ve never been sent here for a summer vacation?” “It’s not like I’d like this middle of nowhere anyway.” Rosie shook her head, “your uncle and your father… they had a fight. I think you were about five or six - about a year after your mother’s passing.” Maria watched Rosie collect herself. “I don’t know what it was about, but your father was under a lot of pressure at the time and your uncle and he had a… well a screaming match. Over the phone, of course. He was screaming about how instead of doing anything useful, your uncle just holed up in here and refused to help your father.” She pursed her lips. “It was nasty.” “Then why am I here now?” “I think this is a sort of olive branch,” she rolled her eyes as she continued, “a… a peace offering.” “Peace offering,” Maria deadpanned. “To a man who refused to help father when he was down. And it’s in the country!” “I heard as a child you really loved it here.” “I’ve wised up since then!” she crossed her arms on her chest, “and anyway, I don’t remember any of it.” “Maria, if I could-“ “-you’d keep me in London I know. I’m sure father wouldn’t mind! Are you really going to leave me here with a bunch of strangers-“

She was interrupted by the big door of the mansion opening and a heavyset balding man with a face Maria could only describe as the epitome of a blank expression came out. He smiled widely at them, which made him look endearingly silly. “Is that uncle Benjamin?” she asked warily. “No, I believe that would be the housekeeper, Mr Digweed.” “Well if he’s the housekeeper I see why it’s in this state.” “Maria, don’t be rude,” Rosie reprimanded her again. Before Maria could argue her case, from the back seat came a loud, insufferable meow. Maria quickly turned around and reached for the crate. “Oh Zachariah!” she called, “I’m sorry, kitty, you’ll be out soon, I promise.” Rosie gently smiled at the girl next to her. “I’m sure Zachariah will like it here more than he did in London.”

Zachariah, as Maria liked to say, was fluffy. Rosie would describe him as chubby and George Merryweather didn’t mention him by any other name than the Fat Cat. In short, Zachariah was a big tomcat with a bit too little to do and a bit too much to eat. 

“He’ll be the only one,” muttered Maria. The supposed Mr Digweed meanwhile walked over to them and knocked on Rosie’s window. “Are you Ms Lapinfort?” his voice was muffled by the glass. Rosie rolled down her window. “Yes, I am. Mr Digweed I suppose? We spoke on the phone.” The man said yes and they shook hands. Up close he was nicer than standing in the door and older too - he reminded Maria of some fairytale magical grandpa, which didn’t help his image in her eyes at all. He was probably sentimental about the royal family, owned a chunky woollen sweater with the British flag and listened solely to the Beatles because they were the last “real” music. “And that must be Miss Maria!” he said excitedly, “nice to see you again, Miss.” He was short on the introduction. Maria greeted him quietly and then let him speak to Rosie while she awkwardly nodded.

The first thing Maria did when they got through the whole “do you need help unpacking?” “Oh yes if you’d be so kind,” small talk, was open Zachariah’s carrier. The cat jumped down, stretched his paws and purred as Maria scratched him between his ears. He then began to trot over the yard as if it already belonged to him. As far as both him and Maria were aware, it did. The small bird Maria saw before following the chicken flew above his head, chirped and Maria didn’t understand. That calmed her down some. Zachariah watched the small bird, then turned away and ignored him. Just moments later, out of the door flew a big black ball of fur. It huffed and barked. Zachariah, for the first time ever in his life, sprinted away in fear and up Maria’s leg into her arms. She turned away from the lion sitting at her feet. Zachariah hissed. Maria screamed. The monster barked.

“Wrolf!” Came an admonishing shout from the inside. Out ran a tall, tan blonde whose hair must’ve been recently struck by a tornado. Her face was bright, young, decidedly friendly and held just a bit of mischief in the corners of the woman’s mouth. “He won’t hurt you! He’s just excited!” She called to them as she ran to the giant thing that seemed desperate to eat a Zachariah sized snack. “Hi, Maria, nice to meet you,” the woman pulled away the probable dog by its collar and with the same amount of effort she put out a hand. Maria shook it, trying to shield Zachariah from Wolf with her body all the while. “I’m Loveday, I’m your aunt.” Maria stared at her for a second. Then her mouth, without consulting the brain, blurted out: “I have an aunt?” Loveday grinned. “You do.” The man who suddenly appeared on the stairs to the house definitely looked like her father’s brother. He had less wrinkles, but his eyes were the same dark grey full of seriousness and even the way he nodded to Maria as an acknowledgment was the same. His dark hair had no silver in it yet, though the curls were the same. He snapped twice. Wrolf ran to him and sat down by his feet, tongue out, tail wagging. “Hello, Maria, welcome to Moonacre.”

_-_

The manor was in a better state inside than outside. Despite its vast hallways, it was warm. Maria stared at the pink geraniums glowing on every free windowsill, nook and cranny. Benjamin obviously noticed her staring around. “Those are Loveday’s,” he clipped. “How many are there?” Maria couldn’t stop herself from asking. Benjamin flashed her a small smile. Somehow the corners of his mouth felt weighed down. “Ninety-nine.” Maria stopped at one. She carefully inspected it. It had seventeen blooms, but she could already see an eighteenth one ready to blossom. Benjamin stood a few steps ahead of her. “I’m sure you can admire Loveday’s flowers just as well after you see your room.” Maria didn’t like his tone - all cold and firm, like marble. “Right.” He opened and closed his mouth. “We tried our best to modify it to your standards. Well, Loveday did. I trust her taste fully but-��� he stopped to consider his next words, “it’s no London.” It certainly isn’t , thought Maria, but didn’t say anything. “Do you like reading?” She silently nodded. Benjamin seemed to have expected her to say something. For a long second he worked through that situation. “Good. Good, the shelves in your room are very well stocked. Made sure of that myself.” Maria massaged her left hand. “Thank you, uncle.” “Hm,” he cleared his throat, “unfortunately, there’s no internet.” “I noticed.” “Yes, well… we have a landline and there are a few places with signal but it’s not… the coverage isn’t ideal.” What else was to be expected of this end of the world where just behind the vast garden lay a dark forest like a bad omen? Benjamin tried to conjure up something insightful, but instead said: “I hope you don’t mind.” Maria felt her right eye almost twitch. She instead smiled but it was an unhappy grimace. “I’m sure I’ll find the right places to hear from my friends.” Benjamin nodded. He gestured vaguely to the hall behind him. “Your room,” he reminded mostly himself. Maria followed him in perfect silence.

They walked up and up and up and when it seemed not possible there could still be more stairs, they walked up. Maria might’ve been exaggerating, but her legs ached after they finally ascended to an empty hall. Aside from some windows, dust and paintings covered in white cloth to be protected against said dust, there was an ornamented door. Elaborate metal spirals swirled on it in mesmerising patterns. The door was certainly child-sized, which Maria certainly was not anymore. Well by the law she was, but she was mature. The fact she barely had to bend to go through it was insulting and Maria was determined to ignore it. “I’ll call you down for dinner. Loveday will bring you some snacks but if you need anything-“ “Thank you, uncle,” Maria cut him off and closed the door. With a tired sigh and closed eyes she slid down until she was sitting on the cold wooden tiles. She heard Benjamin start a sentence before huffing and walking off. This was going to be one long stay.

The room was, and Maria hated to admit it, very pretty. Back in London, her room was simple - neutral colours, some pink and blue accents. She covered her walls in her mother’s paintings and posters of old movies and had a corner dedicated to photos. Her mother’s and father’s wedding day, her last birthday before the unfortunate incident and first after. She also had some polaroids of the friends she made during the… the incident and a bunch of them of her Clarisse and Laura. Neither one of those two knew about the incident - Maria made sure of that.

This room was different in every way, but equally as nice. Unlike the rest of the house, there were no paintings and surprisingly enough no geraniums. The walls were covered in recently restored murals depicting a forest with a myriad of animals. Maria followed the eyes of a fox up to a tree where some black bird was sitting. In a bush she found a cute rabbit and in the sky was some grey marbled bird of prey. She examined the fireplace. It too was ornamented like the door, but also had beautiful white horses on it. The ceiling was painted like a night sky, but somehow there was still enough light in the room. She fell on the gigantic bed. There was a painted bird motif on the head of it, Maria really couldn’t give a damn what kind of bird it was. Except the fact it was the same one as the one sitting on her window, chirping away. Maria rolled her eyes and turned away. She was used to cars and honking, but these incessant trills were eating away at her nerves.

She stayed motionless until a loud meow and a softer knock roused her up. The bird was long gone. “Enter!” she called. Loveday did so, smiling all the way. Zachariah slipped between her legs and jumped on Maria’s lap. Loveday put a plate of various pastries on the small table next to the fireplace. She watched Zachariah nuzzle into Maria’s hand. “He likes you a lot,” she noted. Maria curtly nodded.  “I’m good with animals.” “Really?” “Yeah,” Maria chuckled as Zachariah got up on his hind legs and put his front paws on her left shoulder, “it’s like I can really get what they’re saying.” She froze for a second. “I mean it’s not like I can actually understand them, right? That would be crazy.” Loveday shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that. I know that some of the horse breeders really talk to their horses.” She lightly caressed the fireplace ornaments. “And besides, in Moonacre nothing is impossible.” Zachariah settled on the blanket behind Maria. “Are you allergic to anything?” she asked suddenly, “I know we asked, but sometimes people forget and…” “I’m not,” Maria shook her head. Loveday smiled. “And do you mind flowers? Ben forbid me from putting any geraniums into your room, but I think they would fit this room perfectly, don’t you?” Maria shrugged. Loveday’s attempts at getting into her good graces were more than obvious, but she found she actually didn’t mind it. Despite being very talkative, she didn’t seem overbearing. More so awkward. When had last been Loveday in proper contact with a teenage girl? Let alone one she was to basically become the parent of? Loveday pointed to the writing table with many drawers, which sat under the window. It was made from very dark wood, first of its kind in this house as far as Maria was aware. “You’ll find all your school things in there. We bought you some pens and notebooks as well as the schoolbooks.” “Oh,” Maria said but felt it was very anticlimactic, “thank you, but you didn’t need to.” The woman just waved it off. “We wanted to give you a good welcome since… well you know.” Maria noncommittally hummed. Loveday pursed her lips. “I’m sure you must be tired. We’ll go over the details during dinner, hm?” She left before Maria was able to respond.

It took her a few more minutes before she got up to actually look at the- at her school stuff. Starting with the uniform. It was neatly folded on her desk, a sad blue and grey thing. It looked just about Maria’s size, Rosie must’ve sent over the measurements so that everything would be ready. There was a light blue sweater, a grey blazer, a white shirt and a pair of black pants. Next to it, to Maria’s surprise, a black skort with white socks. It didn’t hold a candle to her previous one (which had a beautiful wine coloured blazer and a black and white tartan skirt. The socks were also black with a red band at the top. Maria wistfully recalled putting it into her drawer to be hopefully pulled out sometime in the future. Instead this. Her complexion was going to be washed out - gods, she’ll look like a corpse!) She sighed and instead began sorting through the table itself. All drawers but the top one were full of notebooks with animal and flower motifs. Maria was quite sure the “we” Loveday said meant “I.” The first drawer was locked. The last drawer was probably just for her own use, as the notebooks there had no accompanying text books. These too had various patterns on them. Polka dots, checkers and stripes… very fun. Maria tiredly walked over to one of her boxes and pulled out one of the sleek faux-leather bound notebooks she accumulated over the years. There simply was no better feeling than writing in what could pass as a diary of some lady. She opened it and started sketching various items in her room. This lady was stuck in a boarding school and desperately writing her parents letters about how she wanted to go back home.

_-_

The universe had it out for Maria. As if things couldn’t get any worse, apparently the Merryweathers owned a car but only for “emergencies”. And Maria getting to school was no emergency. Afterall, it was half an hour on foot, all downhill, Maria could definitely do that daily. Or, Benjamin suggested, you could go on horseback. Maria had never ever ridden a horse before, but just imagining the long haul up the hill of the manor made her legs ache and so here she was, the first day of school, early September, in the stables. She had a backpack since her handbag was too small and inconvenient for travel. Loveday had two bags on the horse. “I just have a few check-ups in the town. Mrs. Aldering brought in a new cat, and the Greenworths’ canaries are apparently sick with something.” Loveday was the first vet who ever rode to her patients on horseback. The woman looked out. The sky was perfectly clear and sunny, except for one lone bird circling above the manor. She grimaced before getting into the saddle. “Ready?” Maria, who was not ready, but definitely didn’t want another impromptu horse-riding lesson after the last one, nodded.

The thing about her horse Periwinkle was that the mare probably wouldn’t startle even if someone threw an aggravated goose at her. The horse was beautiful, white and dappled with grey, but had she been more apathetic, she would have fallen asleep walking. The perfect horse for Maria, really. She saw how Loveday had to manage her much livelier mare Waterlily. While Loveday was able to force Waterlily into not eating any edible plant in sight, Maria was struggling to stay seated. And she knew Periwinkle noticed. Whenever Maria began slipping, the mare slowed down, gave her a moment to settle and then continued with the steady speed of a snail.

“Periwinkle likes you,” noted Loveday. To her dismay, Maria had to agree. “She’s very gentle,” she admitted. Loveday grinned. “Periwinkle?” she laughed, “she can be one devil of a horse I tell you! When me and-“ she suddenly cut herself off, cleared her throat and shook her head, “she’s very adaptive to the rider.” She looked Maria over and their eyes met. Loveday smiled, but just like uncle Benjamin, the corners of her mouth were turned down. “Relax, Maria, you have to be in rhythm with the horse.” Easy to say, but what did it mean? Maria tried copying Loveday. The veterinarian nodded. “That’s better, but don’t be a rag doll. Any wilder horse would throw you off. Remember yesterday.” Also easy in words but difficult in practice. However, Maria wasn’t one to give up so easily.

What did she do yesterday? She kept her arms firm but her hips free. She sort of rolled with the horse… “Wonderful!” exclaimed Loveday, “you’re a natural.” “I told you I’m good with animals.” Loveday shrugged, “that doesn’t always translate into practice.”

Maria looked up, the bird she saw when they were in the stables was still circling them. Like the… she struggled to remember, the… the bald one. Wide wings, scavenged carcasses… oh screw that, it was ominous. All around them small songbirds chirped - none of them looked like the one Maria saw on her window. “I bet London doesn’t have nature like this.” Maria smiled and shook her head, “no, but we have pigeons.” “The Fird-Laviers have pigeons.” “Aw shucks,” giggled Maria, “bested once again.” “Speaking of Fird-Laviers,” began Loveday, “Thomas Fird-Lavier will be your homeroom teacher. If you have any issues with the curriculum, just ask him.” Then she thought it over, “not like you have that many choices anyway.” “What do you mean by that?” “Oh!” Loveday pet Waterlily’s crest, “our high school is very small. Some lessons the students take all together so you have about seven teachers to ask.” Maria gave her a wary look. Loveday shook her head. “I got into Cambridge, top of my class. Last year one student got into Harvard on merits. It’s a good school. Just not a London one.” That calmed Maria down a bit. She could deal with small. Hopefully.

Loveday leaned over and clasped her shoulder affirmatively. “You’ll be fine, Maria.” “I’m not nervous,” she argued. Loveday raised an eyebrow. “Of course not,” she nodded, “I’m just saying that you will be fine.” “ Hm,” hummed Maria. But you are nervous, muttered Periwinkle. “I’m fine,” grumbled Maria angrily. “Did you say something, Maria?” The girl shook her head, looked around and then flashed Loveday a smile. “Oh, nothing I was-“ she gave Periwinkle a confused stare, but the horse was quiet and most definitely horse-like, “-just thinking out loud.” “Alright.” But her stare still felt much too pointed for Maria’s liking.

_-_

While Periwinkle was used to just waiting around and no one in Silverydew dared steal a horse, let alone a horse that belonged to the Merryweathers, Loveday took the mare with her. She and Maria were to ride back together anyway. Maria didn’t mind. There was something slightly surreal about getting off a horse to go to something so common as high school. Was this why people rode motorcycles to school? She thought they were just flexing, but there was thrill  to arriving in a special manner-

“Hey princess!” a shout interrupted her train of thought. She looked away from the aged school building to a trio of boys smoking by the gate. They looked like the exact type of person to take a motorcycle to school. Not that Maria suspected there were many in Silverydew - that’s most likely why they settled on the cigarettes instead. They had to compensate a lot for the uniforms, but did manage to look cool and aloof just a tiny bit. One of them, a sharp-faced and fox-resembling ash blond waved at her. He put out his cigarette and with a trick shot threw it into a trash can. He poked the side of one of his friends - a taller brunet boy who was lanky and strangely contorting himself to look smaller. “Told you she’d listen.” The brunet glared at him. Third, shorter than the second, but taller than the first, all muscle and overall a hulky presence between the two of them, dryly chuckled. He fixed a few loose maroon strands of hair. “Anyone would listen if you shouted loud enough.” “You’re Maria Merryweather, right?” asked the second, ignoring the first with perfected mastery. Maria pursed her lips and slowly nodded. The boy put out his right hand. “I’m Henry Fird-Lavier, I’ll be your gui-“ “The love of your life!” interrupted him the fox guy. Maria raised an eyebrow. “My guy?” Henry stomped on his friend’s foot. “Shut the fuck up, Richard,” he hissed, “your guide,” he corrected Maria quickly, “designated by my father.” He rolled his eyes in annoyance. Maria smirked. “Thanks, but I don’t need help.” She vaguely waved to where Loveday rode off to. “Loveday and Benjamin already explained to me how it works here.” Henry raised an eyebrow. “And you don't have any questions?” She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “Do I have to have any?” “Aren’t you from London, princess?” interrupted the first - Richard. Maria stayed quiet, but apparently Richard didn’t need any actual answer. “We’re different here in the country.” You don’t say. “I noticed,” she muttered under her breath. Richard scoffed. “Well aren’t you a-“ The third dug his heel into Richard’s foot. “-a pleasure!” Richard choked out. “Do you have anything to say to me or are you just a coward?” Richard gritted his teeth. “Ignore him,” thundered the last boy, “Richard’s an idiot.” He cleared his throat and politely put out his right hand. “I’m David. Nice to meet you, Maria.” They shook hands in a small moment of civility. Maria attempted a smile, but it came out strained. ��You were forced to move, right?” he continued. “Yeah.” He scrunched up his nose, “that stinks.” Then he leaned closer to her. “There’s some signal in the common room,” he whispered, “Henry can take you there.” She raised her eyes to him. David nodded encouragingly. She turned to Henry with a timid smile. “Alright, how about we strike a deal? You take me to the common room and finish your task as my guide and I won’t bother you any further.” Richard threw his hand over Henry’s shoulders. “That’s one hell of a deal, Henry, if I were you, I’d take it.” Henry considered it a moment longer. He threw a suspicious look to David. “Sure…” A small bird flew over them. The same Maria saw on her window. It chirped. Henry took a deep breath and threw off Richard’s hand. Maria noticed that the three were wearing matching bracelets with small reddish feathers on it. “Let’s go.”

The moment Henry returned, Richard blew up on David. “Why were you so nice to her?” he demanded, “she’s a prissy bitch!” David shook his head and lit another cigarette. “You wouldn’t get it.” “Then how about you explain? I’m not going to stand for her-“ “She was perfectly fine in the clubroom,” Henry gently interjected. David scoffed. “Of course she was. Does neither of you realise that she’s here without family or friends?” David shook his head in disbelief. “She has her uncle, not to mention Loveday!” argued Richard still as fiery as before. “Sure, an estranged uncle and an aunt she’d met for the first time like a week ago. What a support system,” David snarked. “Well I-“ Richard stuttered, “she’s still a bitch.” Henry jabbed him in the shoulder. “Then don’t be a dog.” “I’m not-” “She might be our chance.” Heavy silence settled over them. Richard deflated like a balloon on a cactus. “Are you serious?” He looked at the sky above them. Nothing but a nice blue. “I wouldn’t joke about this,” hissed David. The small bird, as if in protest, chirped above them.

_-_

Apparently, Laura had another boyfriend and Clarisse already sent Maria a care package. She refused to tell Maria what was in it, but if there was one thing Clarisse could be relied upon, it was good gifts. Laura said she tried to get involved, which Clarisse denied and then they settled on Laura admitting that she just drew on the box. With permanent markers, in case the rain got it on the way. ‘And any and every packing paper inside,’ added Clarisse grudgingly, though Maria was sure she was grinning when she wrote it. They checked the address with Maria once again and she confirmed that yes, Moonacre Manor was a real place. ‘Girl, sending actual mail is torture. How did people do it in the past?’ complained Laura, who did all the bureaucracy to balance out Clarisse’s work. ‘They had people for it,’ answered Maria. ‘Since you live in a manor, do you have staff?’ Maria said one, the housekeeper Mr Digweed. Clarisse then asked if it was really just one and not even the chef.

So true. Maria didn’t see the kitchen and she knew for a fact Loveday didn’t cook the lunches. And as far as she was aware, Benjamin stayed cooped up in his study and dealt with business. It was vague and Maria wasn’t very interested in it. Something to do with the town, most likely. What would it cost her to investigate just a little bit? Nothing. Zachariah investigated a lot. Or so said the increasing amount of half-eaten mice carcasses he brought to her door. Benjamin showed her most of the house. But she didn’t see a sunroom. And she knew for a fact houses like this always had sunrooms. Another thing nagged at her brain. Periwinkle. From what she could see, the mare was a perfectly normal horse. Though her experience with horses wasn’t great by any stretch of the word, she knew for a fact perfectly normal horses didn’t speak. Maybe… maybe it was just some other noise that Maria misheard. A bird overhead. Or a huff. Or maybe Loveday did say something and Maria just didn’t focus enough. Her hands were full of learning how to ride a horse, after all. Or, and this thought made a shiver run up her spine, the incident was back. She shuddered. Clarisse and Laura wrote another few messages mostly wishing her luck on her first day and praying that the care package would arrive intact. Maria barely paid it half her mind. Gods, what if this really was the great return. She didn’t want to go through it all again.

“Hey, princess, phone time’s over. We’re starting in five minutes.” Henry barged in. Maria checked the time. Five ’til nine. “Oh!” she exclaimed and shot him an apologetic smile, “sorry, I was…” her voice trailed off as she looked out the window. “Woah,” she breathed out, “that’s a big bird.” Henry turned around like it was a speed competition. The raptor on the window sill was grey, striped and had blood red eyes. It screeched and flew off. “That was a-“ But Maria didn’t particularly care. She checked the time again. “We have two minutes, Henry.” He took a quick look at his watch. “Shit,” he mumbled. He quickly grabbed Maria’s hand and began dragging her off into their classroom.

They could already see the door (labelled simply “3”), when someone called out to them. “Henry?” They both froze mid-step and turned around, probably looking like a pair of rabbits facing a hungry fox. Said fox was short, stout, dark haired and dark eyed with red cheeks, a kind smile and hands with long fingers fit for a musician. “Hey dad,” said Henry awkwardly, “we were just getting into class-“ “Aren’t you a bit late?” Maria watched the father-son duo. Henry pursed his lips. He knew not to argue - it was three minutes past nine. “Couldn’t you let it slide just once, dad?” Mr. Fird-Lavier shook his head. “Not if you were off with this young lady - are you Maria Merryweather, my dear? - philandering about-” “No, sir,” interrupted Maria, her throat was dry, “I just- uh. I am and I was texting my friends. It’s my fault I should’ve checked the time. Had Henry not come for me, I’d have been late.” Mr. Fird-Lavier visibly cooled off. “Oh, I can forgo that. At least Henry isn’t running around forests all the time anymore,” he glared at Henry, “and sorry, Henry, I was just-“ Henry waved it off, “it’s nothing, dad. I know why you’re worried.” Then he whispered to Maria: “but philandering with girls is Richard’s specialty.” Maria turned to him, a surprised “him?” clear on her face. Henry shrugged to say he wasn’t sure how either. “Are you happy here so far, Miss Merryweather?” The startled look of a cat on the wrong side of the fence from the dog was back. “Uh- I-” “Aren’t we late, dad?” Henry saved her. Mr Fird-Lavier cleared his throat. “Right, students, in you go or I’ll have to write you up.”

There were around forty or so students in the classroom. Sitting at the desks, standing by the windows, chattering about. Back in the corner by the window was a small couch. It wasn’t fully occupied, there was room for two more people, three if they squished David and Richard a bit. Henry dragged Maria there. Richard made a long face but let them sit down. “Prissy,” he hissed. “Get over it,” whispered Maria. Richard opened his mouth to object. David once again strategically (read: painfully) moved his foot on Richard’s. “Didn’t you say you’d leave us alone?” “Not like I had a choice,” she muttered. Henry snickered. “Yeah, sorry about that.” “You four!” called out Mr Fird-Lavier, “anything to share with the rest of us?”

All their heads whipped forwards. Everyone’s eyes were turned to them with undeniable sparks of mirth. “Well sir,” started Richard and stopped immediately. All wit dissipated - not that there was much to dissipate in the first place. “We were just, erm,” continued David who also came out empty handed. “Commenting on the seating arrangement,” added Henry, not a lot more confident in his words but enough to not make a fool out of himself. “How so?” asked Mr. Fird-Lavier. Maria smiled innocently. “Richard was complaining about the lack of pillows, sir. I said that we should get some more so that everyone sitting on the ground could have a proper place and wouldn’t have to resort to… couch theft.” Mr Fird-Lavier approvingly nodded. “That’s a good idea,” he said to the entire class, “can someone tell me how many pillows are in the literature class?” A short but muscled girl with mousy brown hair raised her hand. “Thirteen, sir.” Mr Fird-Lavier looked into his papers. “Oh well we shouldn’t change that. Hm…” he moved some documents around aimlessly before continuing, “I’ll talk to school leadership about it.” And the introductory lesson commenced.

Why shouldn’t thirteen be changed? Such an odd number both figuratively and literally. Maria pulled out a small red faux-leather bound notebook and began making notes. After all, this wasn’t London and Loveday and Benjamin hadn’t attended high school in some ten years at least.

_-_

Sun hung just about at high noon when Maria walked out of the school building to meet with Loveday. She got on Periwinkle with some strain - though outside it must’ve looked almost effortless, she was out of breath when she sat up straight. “You’re getting better,” smiled Loveday as they rode back into the manor. She looked over at the girl. “Did you get to talk with your friends?” “Yeah, apparently they’re sending me a care package.” “That’s very nice,” nodded the vet, “I hope they’re sending it in a waterproof box.” “What? Why?” Maria questioned. Loveday shrugged. “There will be a lot of rain next week.” “How do you know that?” “The geraniums speak better than any radio station.” Oh right, Maria remembered, people are stuck in the previous century here. “So you predict the future from plants?” Loveday threw her a surprised look. “Exactly! Herbs work the best, but I prefer geraniums. In fact, they told me you’ll bring a cat.” Maria furrowed her eyebrows, but quickly composed her face into a tight smile. “That’s nice,” she mumbled. The forest around them was quiet, but seeing Maria’s experience with nature, she couldn’t tell whether it was normal or some strange anomaly. Apparently, Moonacre was full of those. “Why do all the geraniums have seventeen blooms?” Loveday's face was overtaken by surprise before an amused smile settled on her lips. “You checked?” Maria nodded. Loveday grinned at that. She fixed something on her bag. “They’re mine, they listen to my heart.” Cryptic. How lovely. “How was the first day?” Maria deeply sighed, but mustered up a polite smile nonetheless. “I’m sure it will get better.”

@theargopriestess @stabat-mater @hotpotatoburn @lalla0019 @immergladsss @bedofthistles

[wen-kexing-apologist]

HA! GOTCHA! 3, 11 and 18

Ooo, good choices, these options are really going to necessitate some thought on definitions for me.

3- Childhood Sweethearts

Okay so for me the first question is, what counts as childhood? Did they have to have declared some type of romantic feelings for each other when they were kids? Do we consider any couple that came together in high school to be childhood sweethearts, because that’s normally how I see that terminology utilized in real life? Do we count childhood sweethearts to be people in adult relationships where we find out later that they met as children (lol, no.)

I regret to inform you that I might just have to give this to

Cutie Pie

I am thinking about the shows I have seen where the couples met as kids but are adults now, and there really aren’t that many. I won’t consider high school BLs in the childhood sweethearts category because I am a happy for now kind of person and getting together in high school does not equate to being together forever. That leaves me only a handful: I Can’t Reach You, My Only 12%, Bad Buddy, I Told Sunset About You, and Cutie Pie that really give me an established childhood relationship and then some level of time skip to an older period in their lives. Of that list I feel like I Can’t Reach You and My Only 12% are much more in the friends to lovers camp, ITSAY is a friends to enemies to lovers kind of deal, and Bad Buddy is it’s own special brand of enemies to lovers. And in all of those cases there is one character that is aware of their feelings for much longer than the other. 

So it is Cutie Pie for me because Lian and Kuea both loved each other their entire lives. They’ve been engaged since they were children, and even though Kuea is constantly searching for where he left his last brain cell and that gets in the way of him seeing how much Lian loves him, it cannot be denied from an outsider perspective that those two have been in love their entire lives. And honestly, I don’t think Yi and KonDiao are any different in that regard. The love for both couples has existed forever, the tops just have to learn to use their words. 

11- Forbidden Love

If I were to go obvious for the Forbidden Love trope, the answer would be Bad Buddy absolutely no contest, but I AM GONNA GO NONTRADITIONAL HERE MUAHAHAHA

He’s Coming to Me

He’s Coming to Me is one of the strongest BLs I’ve seen. It makes me sad to no end that this show gets so little attention and that its distribution got fucked with because I think everyone who hasn’t seen this show should watch it and everyone who has seen this show should watch it again. I consider this a (non-traditional) forbidden love because by all accounts it should not happen. Med is dead and Thun is alive, and they spend the entirety of the show trying to help Med move on, and for most of the show Med and Thun literally cannot touch. I consider He’s Coming to Me a subversion of the standard forbidden love trope because of how incredibly queer I consider the show to be. Thun spends years hiding his powers, pretending that he can’t see Med, pretending to be normal for years, until one day he has had enough. But once he stops giving a shit, once he starts interacting with Med in public? I cannot for the life of me get the image of all those other people’s face out of my head. I think probably too often about that scene where everyone is looking at Thun with the utmost judgment and I just can’t think about it as anything other than two people who are not supposed to be together, choosing to be together anyway, for however long they can, until reality catches up to them.   

18- Slow Burn

Hmmmm. This is hard because I feel like all of the BLs I’ve seen are too short for a real slow burn. So for the sake of this game, I am considering my slow burn to be whatever show drove me fucking crazy yelling at the screen and wanting at least one character to get their fucking shit together. So I am giving it to 

I Told Sunset About You

This would probably constitute as a non-traditional option as well, but holy fucking shit the way I needed Teh to figure his shit out, stop being a coward, and just commit. My favorite type of slow burn is the one where the characters are generally aware of what is going on but they have to fight with themselves to get to the end goal. I think that has a tendency to play better than some late in the game romantic realization. The tension that keeps building and building and building only to shatter right before its crescendo is really what does me in. Oh has known he has feeling for Teh for fucking ever and Teh wakes up decently early to the fact that he has feelings for Oh, but then it is still like pulling fucking teeth, while walking through fucking molasses, to get to the finish line where Teh finally asks Oh to be his boyfriend. This show is such a slow burn for me personally that not even the little admission of Teh’s feelings in the hammock, nor the kiss in episode 4 is enough for me to feel like we have reached the end of the slow burn. I think it is my favorite slow burn because where normally an admission or a kiss from the more hesitant person would mark the end of the burn, Teh saying he has feelings for Oh, Teh rubbing up on Oh in episode 3, Teh making out with Oh in episode four, none of those feel like the resolution point in their quest to get together.

BL Romance Trope Ask Game

[rainstormcolors]

For the meme, YGO 5 and 17, Mokuba 8 and 9. :D

AHH, I put this in a post instead of answering the ask at first... I think I may need coffee. Or I got caught up in something else in my head. Anyway.

Hey there. Thank you for the ask!

Yu-Gi-Oh!

5) …the scene from it that lives in my head rent free.

Seto’s vision/hallucination of his melting dragon consuming Mokuba and watching himself also rot as his younger self glares at him with hatred is such a haunting and powerful moment, and how it was built to and what it builds up to is haunting and powerful. It’s so vivid and emotional and of the mind and of the heart without words.

Also the Heart Puzzle stuff of which I am a sucker for, which people likely already know. Isolation, emotional detachment from reality, trying to heal the inner child, trying to connect with yourself, trying to pick up the pieces and find sympathy for yourself.

17) …the world-building aspect of the story I have the greatest admiration for.

The themes of abuse and tragedy feel organic and just like part of the characters. You see it reflected in their behaviors and attitudes. It’s not overtly discussed and it’s not used as cute bait or misery bait.

The story is also very… I want to say it can be brutally true to life in a way. Shit happens and there isn’t a good moral behind it. To be clear on this point, I think people are in the right to criticize parts of this as this is a narrative, but other parts… it’s just kind of… I’m not even sure how to put it or if what I’m typing makes any sense. But sometimes you need to see and understand that shared experience of shit happens and there isn’t a good moral behind it.

Mokuba Kaiba

8) …a headcanon I have about this character.

I suppose I’ve included Mokuba collecting original comic book art in a few fanfictions now. I also feel the idea of his biological parents is something Mokuba might approach like a scientist, in contrast to Seto who has pushed them out of his mind in canon likely as a form of denial/pain/grief. Mokuba wouldn’t mind looking up their history if the topic somehow came up to him. He was younger than Seto when their biological father died, and while very young children do also grieve, it’s not as much of a cognizant process for them but rather mainly behavioral it seems (I don’t meant to paint broadly though – it’s going to vary).

9) …which of their relationships I would have cultivated more if it were up to me (both romantic and platonic).

I saw your comment supporting Honda’s quiet concern and loyalty to Mokuba, so that perhaps has a few votes for it now. I feel like I’d be interested in also seeing Mokuba interact more with some of Kaiba’s employees, like Isono or the maid. I feel Mokuba being kind of hot and cold with the main cast in canon is rather rich characterization so I don’t want that changed, although watching him grow into those friendships in time might be nice. Whereas Seto seems exhausted by interacting with people in the standard way, Mokuba seems much more animated by it and thus I feel he will be more social than Seto.

[tobiasdrake]

We have a terrible plan but it's the best we can do under these circumstances. Let's go get us a ship.

If we're still on the ship when it un-dusks, is that bad for us? Do we know?

Also, Teaks said it was imprisoned in a perpetual storm, but apparently it flickers in and out of reality? That was bugging me when we saw it do that the first time. Is the perpetual storm on the other side of the flicker?

This seems way more complicated than "Angry ghost captain summoned a furious storm." Do we know... anything? I mean, I assume not because it's one of those "If no one lived to tell the tale then who told the tale?" kind of things. If no one's ever been to the Vespertine and come back then no, we don't know anything. How would we?

Imagine signing on to a pirate journey for a specific mission and then being told you can't participate in the one thing you were here to do. They should mutiny. And by mutiny, I mean sneak around behind our backs to come along anyway.

It's what we'd do. With Garl. Specifically.

...Garl over here proudly displaying the scars of my mistakes and meanwhile Patches is over there with perfectly fine eyes covered by two eyepatches and he is not sharing.

There is logic in what the Captain's saying. But I nonetheless can't endorse it because y'all know what we'd be doing in the crew's shoes. Our history speaks for itself.

I dunno. Maybe these pirates are better disciplined than Solstice Warriors are. I thought we were the upstart renegades against proper protocol but Bugraves and Erlina blew us right out of the water in the field of doing what you aren't supposed to. Our disobediences look quaint by comparison.

I guess Moraine isn't a very good indoctrinator. He's been a dismal failure at passing along dogma and shaping belief systems in his students. The Solstice Warriors simply aren't up to the same standards of conformity, blind faith, and rigid structuralism that you so famously find in piracy.

Okay, enough sad reflection. We're on a mission to steal a legendary vessel from a captain with no ownership of it using a magical artifact we no longer possess. Gonna need my game face on because unwarranted confidence is the only asset we have right now.

Ghost ship? More like toast ship amirite?

Look, I was thinking about other stuff, not working on zingers. Point is, we're awesome. What they got? Crusty old bones? Ask Roro how well that went for her!

So what if we lost the coin. We're still going to get the ship. We just have to use Plan B. Don't worry, everybody has a price when the currency is violence.

Oh, I'm ready. I am focused and--

Hold up, if we can control the cycle of night and day, can't we just rewind the clock to the night of the eclipse for another eclipse boost? We have technology in place to do this; Why aren't we using this ability to spam eclipses whenever we--

Oh hey Serai. When did you get here? And where did the pirates go?

...

Oh shit. I mean. WHOA! You were Captain Cliche this WHOLE TIME!? I am both shocked and honored that.... No, sorry, I can't do it.

Same reason you don't call someone out as gay no matter how transparent their glass closet is. I'm a firm believer in identity authoritarianism. You want to present as Mysterious Masked Figure, I'm not gonna stop you.

But now that we're actually having this conversation, yes, everyone already knew.

Don't think of it as losing the macguffin. Think of it as buying a supremely talented chef who will support the ungodly amounts of violence we are about to inflict.

That's okay, your plan was always bad anyway. You should have spent some time at camp talking to Teaks.

Honestly, after our trip to the Dweller's mansion, I'm looking forward to a return to the pleasant simplicity of bashing zombie skulls until they stop moving. Been warming my beatstick in anticipation.

Yeah, we're stupid like that.

Anyway, HANDS IN THE AIR. This is a robb-- Wait, no, that was yesterday. Sorry. Wrong script. Ahem. This is a shipjacking. Still larceny, different genre.

Ha! Success! Now to find out if we die!

Oh, pleasantries! Yeah, nice to meet you. I'm guessing you must be the navigator who wanted a better life? Did they make you captain after the mutiny?

Really should have demanded more than one curse-breaker soulstone from Roro. At the very least, instructions on how to make them would be nice to have, if we're going to keep involving ourselves with every curse on the planet.

Anyways, back to business.

This is a shipjacking. How do you say "Hand 'er over" in pirate curse? In any case, I know it doesn't look like it but Serai is definitely pointing a gun at you right now.

^_^ I'm the gun.

Technically, that only proves that one of us is real. The rest could still be imaginary.

Zale and I are too associated with each other and Serai showed up late in the game. So if one of us is meandering around having hallucinations of companionship, it's probably Garl. This whole thing could be a story he's making up in his head, thinking about the dear friends that were taken from him and who left him alone in childhood.

Probably not, though. I'm sure you're fine, Garl.

We also have a whole fifth person stuffed in his backpack!

Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Hortence. I would shake your hand but you're dead, ethereal, and possibly on fire.

In any case, I was already on your side of this argument from before we even met so I'd be happy to beat Stormcaller with a stick until he relents. Then you can retire to the unlife you wanted from the start and/or pass on, and we can take your ship.

Everybody wins. Except Stormcaller. But, y'know, fuck him.

The rest of the crew are brainless undead now. Unfortunate, but convenient. It means we don't need to worry about their opinions of the deal we're making.

Sucks for them. They all died for the Captain's hissy fit, which they were specifically trying to end by getting rid of the little shit. The crew did nothing wrong. They're as much victims of Stormcaller's unreasonable tantrum as Hortence is.

But it's super convenient for us that only one person has any ownership claim to this vessel now, and it's the person who wanted to leave from the start. That will help our shipjacking go super smoothly.

Oh, there's a third option. We buy him out. Everyone has a price when the currency--

Goddammit, I already used that line. I wasted it on you, Serai. Why did I do that? I didn't need to impress you! You already think I'm cool!

Okay. But. Counterpoint. I hit things really, really hard. It's hard to do magic when you're being hit really, really hard. There's a game mechanic for that and everything.

Considering everything that we came from on Wraith Island? Yes. I do feel good about our chances here.

[imsparky2002]

Canon vs Creepster: Kagami

Canon!Kagami *Bowing gracefully* You have quite the extrodinary outfit. I have a love for western films, watched them all the time back in Japan.

*Kagami Herushingu smiles, surprised at how... calm this girl is to see another version of herself. She tips the hat in response*

Herushingu: Well, thank ya kindly, darlin’! Name’s Herushingu, pleasure to meet ya!

Canon!Kagami: Kagami Tsurugi. I must say, your accent is lovely, yet is quite different from your name. Are you by any chance American?

Herushingu: Yes’m, Born and raised in Texas!

Canon!Kagami: Hmm... how interesting. I don't sense any sort of falsehood about you. Clearly this is the result of some sort of accident. Are you by any chance from an alternate reality?

*Herushingu's eyes widen in surprise. She's right on the money!*

Herushingu: Just precisely, ma’am. Where I’m from, my kin are monster hunters, same as I am ma’self!

Canon!Kagami: Oh! And by monsters, you are referring to more supernatural species? In our world, the only sort of monsters are those who were changed by the villainous Hawk Moth.

*Thinking of the butterfly, Herushingu can't help but snigger a little*

Canon!Kagami: Yes, yes, he looks as stupid as his name.

*Herushingu sobers back up and tells her counterpart about her team and the type of monsters they face*

Herushingu: Exactly right on that front, darlin’! We’re talkin’ real monsters, vampires, phantoms, demons! The kind that live to terrorize the in’cent folk! Not to mention the most vile. Human killers!

Canon!Kagami: What gives one person the right to decide when another’s life should end. It’s just…dishonorable!

Herushingu: S'like my mama says. "Humans are the only 'monsters', because they have no reason to kill."

*Canon!Kagami looks a little jealous and sad that her mother isn't as close to her.*

Canon!Kagami: Does your mother treat you well?

*Herushingu frowns, looking concerned for her counterpart.*

Herushingu: Yeah, she can be a bit rough on the edges sometimes, but we get on just fine! I get the feelin’ ya need someone to talk to, hon.

Canon!Kagami: *Trying to stay strong* I... I try hard to stay strong, in order to make her proud. But sometimes... *voice quivering* I feel as though I am nothing but a disappointment.

*She desperately hold back a sniffle, as Herushingu embraces her, letting the girl sob into her shoulders. It pains her to think of a world where her mama would treat her with such cruelty.*

Herushingu: Here, now, that’s a load’a nonsense! I’ve only just met ya, but so can already tell ya got a fightin’ spirit! The only person who’s standards ya need to live up to are your own, and I’m sure you got plenty to be proud of!

Canon!Kagami: *Sniffing* I... I'm sorry for breaking down. That isn't like me. *Trying to regain composure* I... I suppose I like fencing. I mean... my mother made sure that happened. *Frowning once again* Do... do you like fencing?

Herushingu: (smiles) I do love a good sword-crossin’ every now and again! But if I’m bein’ honest, my trusty guns get me through the most battles!

Canon!Kagami: What is a... gun?

Herushingu: (Blinks a few times) Oh, boy…

Canon!Kagami: *A little bit later* So, do you have heroes you fight alongside? Some sort of team?

Herushingu: (Smiles) Yeah, I got ma partners, Marinette and Adrien.

Canon!Kagami: *Feels a quiver in her stomach once again.* Oh... what are they like?

*Herushingu tells her about their jobs and personalities, and notices Canon!Kagami looking sadder and sadder as she continues*

Herushingu: Well, Marinette’s real spunky, she’s somethin’ of a mad scientist! Sometimes I don’t know what she’s talkin’ about, but it’s cute how excited she gets! And Adrien…well, he’s one of a kind. So sweet, but so lively at the same time! Don’t know what I’d do without em to be honest!

*Canon!Kagami sobs once again. Memories of events from canon are flashing through her mind. Herushingu frowns. What on earth happened between her and her partners in this world?*

Herushingu: What... what's wrong?

Canon!Kagami: It's... it's complicated.

*Herushingu's eyes narrow. Something happened to this girl, and she wants to know what*

Herushingu: Please tell me... if ya want to.

*And she did. She told Herushingu everything that had gone down. All of the highs and lows.... and Herushingu was PISSED*

Herushingu: Darlin’…I don’t even know WHAT to say. They put you through hell emotionally and yet you still stand by em! If they don’t realize how lucky they are to have you in their lives, I may do something I’d regret later!

Canon!Kagami: No... please don't. They're perfect for each other, just not for anyone else. Focus on your own partners, keep taking good care of them.

Herushingu: (Sighs) If you say so, lil lady!

Canon!Kagami: ... Is there any way I can visit you?

Herushingu: Well, here lemme give you my number. I got a few friends who know some witchy stuff, so they should connect across dimensions. Call whenever ya want!

Canon!Kagami: I will, thanks!

And that’s the last of the trio meeting their canon self! I feel that Kagami was done dirty in the show. Not just by Marinette and Adrien, but also with how the writers decided her and FELIX would be a good idea. I may do the villains and classmates as well, but I don’t know yet. Once again thank you to Weeby for assisting with the writing, and make sure to check out the previous crossovers with Marinette and Adrien. Reblog, reply, post and ask to spread the love. @artzychic27 @msweebyness

[abigailspinach]

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/07/27/magazine/pete-buttigieg-interview-election-democrats.html

Tear down obstacles — I mean, the obstacle many would say was President Biden himself. A new New York Times/Siena poll shows that over 80 percent of voters are happy that Biden dropped out. Clearly voters were hungering for something different. Why did the party ignore that desire for change for so long? I think this is something the party was wrestling with for a long time. And then the president wrestled with it personally. And then he did something that is world-historically rare, for not just the leader of a country, but the most powerful person in the world to lay power aside.

CNN reported that there haven’t been any full cabinet meetings since late last year, so I don’t know how often you were meeting with President Biden himself, but as a surrogate, did you not have any questions or doubts about his abilities? The last time I was working with President Biden really closely was during a disaster a few months ago. I’m reminding myself I’m not supposed to appear in my official capacity, so I won’t delve into that. But look, nobody’s denying that he’s 10 years older than he was 10 years ago. The point is that he’s really good at being president and in my view still is.You have framed this as, he sacrificed for his country, that this was a noble act. But the reality was that he was facing sliding polling numbers and a defection of donors and members of his party. He could have made that choice weeks ago, giving Vice President Harris or any eventual nominee a much longer runway and time to defeat Donald Trump. And he didn’t do it. Did he wait too long? One of the things you sign up for when you go into politics, and certainly when you’re in high office, is everybody else telling you what you should have done. And we can all say he should have done this, or he should have done the same thing but a different time, or should have done it in a different way. But the fact stands that he did an extraordinary thing.

But it wasn’t unfair. Well, certain dimensions I think were unfair. For example, the fact that in a given day, you might have almost identical flubbing of names by the two major candidates, but only one of them would have that plastered in certain people’s commentary.

They’re calling her a D.E.I. hire. And worse stuff that I don’t want to repeat. And I just wonder, as a surrogate, how you combat that? Well, I do think that those attacks have been a bad look for Republicans. And you can tell because, when you’ve got somebody like Mike Johnson, who is a very, very conservative figure, the speaker of the House, telling his own caucus, hey, cool it, he’s basically saying that they are embarrassing the party, and I think acknowledging that they are diminishing the party’s chances by indulging in that kind of rhetoric. The fact that they can’t think of what else to do besides go right to race and gender isn’t just revealing about some of the ugliest undercurrents in today’s Republican Party. It’s also just profoundly unimaginative, because it means that they can’t speak to how any of this is going to make people’s lives better. In other words, they can’t conceive of a politics that isn’t just about the personalities. And their inability to explain how your life as an American every day will be any different, certainly any better, is revealed in the fact that they immediately reach for one of two things, saying she’s too far left, which is what literally every Republican says about literally any Democrat who is running against the Republicans. If Joe Manchin were the nominee, they’d say the same thing about him. It’s just standard and therefore boring. Or these really ugly attacks, which maybe are meant to get attention, but they are very much telling on themselves when they go there.

 I am thinking about how you see your role right now, because while Biden rarely talked to the press, you not only engage with people like me, but you also go to Fox News. And I am wondering why you do that. Because I know that there are so many people who tune in in good faith. I don’t always feel that the corporation that runs Fox News is acting in good faith, but I know that the viewers might be tuning in in good faith and getting their information from this news source. So I, as a political figure, can hardly blame a voter for not being responsive to our message if they literally have never heard it. And we’re in a very fragmented environment. Honestly, we’re lucky if we can get to somebody through TV, versus just even more fragmented internet sources. And I know that if I’m on that network, I’m one of relatively few voices with our message, and so if I didn’t go there to give that message, somebody might never hear it. I also know that you cannot assume who somebody is or how they’re going to vote just based on what network they watch. Of course, there are a lot of strong patterns, but there are a lot of people who can be moved. And sometimes the person who picked the channel is not the same as the other person who’s also in the house, listening to what’s being said. Sometimes when you explain what you believe to somebody, even if they don’t completely agree with you, they respect you more, and are inclined to maybe trust you and give you the benefit of the doubt. So that’s why I’m there.

[46ten]

Do you think Eliza and Ham had a healthy relationship?

I was just reading Hamilton’s letter to his wife dated 8Sept1786 to add this little note to anecdotes of AH’s forgetfulness/carelessness: “I wrote to you My beloved Betsey at Philadelphia; but through mistake brought off the letter with me; which I did not discover till my arrival here.” 

But it sort of addresses the question, in 18th century companionate marriage terms:

Happy, however I cannot be, absent from you and my darling little ones. I feel that nothing can ever compensate for the loss of the enjoyments I leave at home, or can ever put my heart at tolerable ease. In the bosom of my family alone must my happiness be sought, and in that of my Betsey is every thing that is charming to me. Would to heaven I were there! Does not your heart re-echo the wish? 

In reality my attachments to home disqualify me for either business or pleasure abroad; and the prospect of a detention here for Eight or ten days perhaps a fortnight fills me with an anxiety which will best be conceived by my Betseys own impatience. I am straitened for time & must conclude. I presume this will find you at Albany. Kiss my little ones a thousand times for me. Remember me affectionately to Your Parents, to Peggy, to all. Think of me with as much tenderness as I do of you and we cannot fail to be always happy

Adieu My beloved

A Hamilton

Brief version: my initial reaction is that I don't know how one would go about judging it (by today's standards or the period standards; her "voice" throughout their married years is almost entirely missing, I wrote a post about some of the things we DO know), but let's define "healthy relationship" in the simplest terms:

1) Were they satisfied with each other in the relationship- did whatever they had going on work for them? I think that's a "yes." He seemed satisfied with her: "You are my good genius; of that kind which the ancient Philosophers called a familiar; and you know very well that I am glad to be in every way as familiar as possible with you" (AH to EH, 19Nov1798). And she referred to him as the tenderest, best, virtuous husband, writing stuff about him like this: "I have had a double share of blessings...for such a husband, his spirit is in heaven and his form in the Earth and I am nowhere any part of him is." (EH to Pendleton, 20Sept1804)

2) Does it seem like there was reciprocity? I'd say so - I don't think, from his letters to her, or her letters to others, that he was stepping all over her/taking advantage of her. And he would have been not only a bad husband, but not a gentleman, if he had. 

3) Was part of their dynamic to engage in destructive/harmful actions towards others? Could they have rated their satisfaction highly, while a feature of it was unity in causing harm? Other than that they laughed together at the 'poorly written' letters Eliza's friends sent her, I don't think they were causing MORE harm to others within their relationship than any other wealthy white Anglo-American couple of the time period.

Long version: They lived in a time period at nearly polar opposite of how hetero couples are supposed to publicly relate - if today's image is that long-time hetero couples are supposed to barely tolerate each other, couples of that time period were supposed to affirm this deep romance and adoration. Check out my 18th century marriage tag if want to read more, or this on the qualifications for a wife or another post on the responsibilities of a wife.

As I've stated elsewhere (see links above), a lot of AH's language in his letters to EH is period-typical - he's expressing sentiments (and in similar language) that a lot of men expressed to their wives. Being an excellent husband was also a crucial part of being considered a good man, so to the extent that AH felt his honor and character were important - and he most certainly did - he also wanted to be a devoted husband to a happy and satisfied wife who delivered tender proofs of their affection - their children. (They were serious about satisfying their wives - there were pamphlets! -  in all the ways one can imagine - a satisfied, happy wife was proof of one’s own masculinity.) To summarize, I don’t necessarily think that just because he wrote to her in a lovey-dovey way that they had a good relationship, but I think we have enough other evidence that whatever they had worked for them, their children, and the functioning of their household and secured them a reputable place in society.

EH played the role of caretaker/helpmate to his genius, providing him not only with the stable home-life he seemed to want - and need - but also supported him through her role in the Republican Court and the social life of Philadelphia and NY. What becomes more interesting is that she also provided him feedback on his writing/speeches, may have transcribed for him (perhaps when he got tired of writing), and copied some of his letters/essays for him. So "Hamilton's genius" was very much a joint venture for both of them, as was their home-life and children, and everything else. In other words, theirs was definitely a partnership. Folks also noted that he was a different person/personality (kinder, gentler, tender, playful) at home, perhaps reflective of the kind of environment EH nurtured. 

I have also thought that perhaps he was borderline emotionally dependent on her. There's something about her appearance in his life in winter 1780, when he seems to nearly have his head underwater, where he sort of grasps on to her as some type of salvation (and will cling on for nearly the next quarter of a century). Check out all the times he refers to her as "Angel," a bit unusual for this time period. And he was at times - it's reported by others - anxious when he's apart from her (she's anxious apart from him, too).

The other thing - a bit unusual - is that EH likely had a lot of power in that relationship - he was marrying up, not the other way around, and her family could have crushed him. I wrote this before, but she’s more connected to power than he is. I think that’s something he treasured - being accepted and ensconced in this powerful family. I think he got a thrill over his successful marriage to this Schuyler-van Rensselaer-Livingston scion - again, it demonstrated what a gentleman he was.  

Nearly a century later but dealing with some of the same families in NY society, Edith Wharton provides examples of all the subtle ways women wielded power with their husbands, and I think the well-bred and educated Elizabeth Schuyler would have been excellent at that. And we can see from letters how much he left up to her to negotiate and solve all sorts of things.

A few other things that I find striking about their relationship, in the positive:

Other than her laziness in writing to him (and evidence she did write him), they likely were good communicators. I base that on their clear family planning - their children are very well spaced out, and I doubt they practiced abstinence, which means they were likely practitioners of the most common contraceptive activity between married couples at the time, requiring not only discipline but communication. Even deciding to engage in family planning reflects communication of shared goals and plans, etc. 

Although he always intended to leave the cabinet position after his goals were accomplished, and wrote GW of his intentions in spring 1793, I think the timing of sending his resignation letter after their child was stillborn in his absence is a good indication that he did prioritize her needs (and felt guilt about it, as he expressed to Angelica S. Church). And then when he leaves, he hunkers down with her and their children for a few months.

Striking things, in the negative:

He either had a lot of influence over her, or she trusted his judgment a lot - though the flip side is that he had established that she could trust his judgment; I don’t see indications that she was naturally gullible. He's very confident (twice!) about arranging a duel and not telling her. The 1795 letter where he notes that he could handle his own family situation without causing distress is interesting. 

Of course, there’s the matter of the affair with Maria Reynolds, but I’ve written about that a lot, and that he chose not to just lie to her, but instead pay James Reynolds quite a lot of money, with “I’ll tell Mrs. Hamilton” as the only threat. That’s either very rash or shows he was honestly concerned about how upsetting it might be to her. There has to be some truth to his phrasing at several different points in their lives of not wanting to “hazard [her] esteem” for him or make himself unworthy of her esteem/her love. It is an “inestimable jewel” to him, and he also calls her “a precious jewel.” One can add all of the weight of everything above into one’s reading of that. 

[kyrodo]

I've normalized people acting stupid around me. For example Choskey will act dumb about "what I wanted to watch" and both me and Red would tell him I wanted to watch the thing we were watching before the pvp arena minecraft thing he showed. And his reasoning he eventually revealed was because he didn't want to watch something he wanted to be awake for and he also doesn't like watching incomplete animes if they're good cause he doesn't want cliffhangers. Another example is Red acting stupid when he's watching something going on in a parking lot, either a homeless person he wants to help, or some activity that seems suspicious to him. Because Red has some kind of police obsession which I almost don't blame Kay for getting angry at him now. Especially when the reality is they cause more problems than they solve, and they're used to control people, quell protests etc. I'm not gonna get too far into that, but I'm not the type of person who gets a hard on watching police chases end poorly for people.

Back to topic though, I'm used to it now. I'm used to people acting stupid for one reason or another, not being as forthcoming as I am, lying, putting on a farce, acting like they don't know what I'm talking about. As long as the person on the other end at the end of the day is someone who supports or cares about me. As long as they are not my enemy. After all that's only happened once. Once out of all the years I've lived. ONCE. So not only are you the only person who's ever switched gears every time I interact with them depending on how I interact with them, you're also the only real enemy I've ever made. What is that supposed to say about me?

You can bring a whole army to fight a private war with me behind Red's back, but at the end of the day you're the only one crying wolf. Obviously other people aren't seeing some of the things you're seeing because I'm not hostily subtexting them but is that it? Is that enough for not a single person to hate me except you out of my entire life? I'm saying you picked a hard person to frame.

It's funny how back then I used to almost believe everybody in the world hated me and that's what started our interaction at all, but it was literally just you and your friends all along. Who else is there? Who else has some vendetta against me? Who else has tried to fuck up my life? When I was ranting towards Kay, how much of it do you even think she read? I fought a one-sided war against her she wasn't even paying attention to or didn't make any indication of reacting to, hoping she cared enough that she would, and she didn't. I don't even make enemies, you just came at a good time. I'm not like my mom. I don't go out of my way to piss off managers or give people a hard time. So what the fuck do you want me to do?

I can only be so little, and I can only do so much. I had a massive footprint in 2020 that was largely ignored by the person it was originally meant for. But otherwise my footprint when it comes to drama other than you is pretty fucking nonexistent. Because I'm not the type. I have transparent thoughts on social media, if not in public then here, but beyond that I'm not bothering people am I? Nobody's trying to subtext me, there's no parasocial anything going on anymore. And in vrchat. Nothing. There's no attack drones. No negative words behind my back. Everybody has had good experiences with me. And I literally can't do any better than I already have. Why the fuck do I need to fit your blown out standards when everybody else gets along with me just fine?

And just like how siber got his art skills when he was completely emotionally crashed due to psychotic depression, I'm an absolute beast at avatar customization. The holes in the stuff I don't know are getting filled in every time I work on anything. And I keep making friends. I have two boyfriends. I don't know how poorly you wanted my life to go in the aftermath but allow me to disappoint you.

And the cherry on top is that my "reading" skills aren't being constantly stress tested by someone every single day. The only people I want to interact with these days are as non-toxic as a fucking crayon, subtly or not. My avatar is so cute. My personality is so cute. Where I'm getting rejected in the edgieverse, elsewhere I'm finding loads of acceptance when I use my real strengths. Why should I try to find friends with the personality that only exists when I'm having problems with someone. Especially when the only people it would appeal to aren't the people that would calm me down. What comfort is there to be found in someone about as soft as a fucking toothpick.

I don't want more reasons to remain aggravated, I want someone that would help me stop. You're the opposite of that. You leave shouts on people's fa pages trying to recycle drama. I can't even wrap my head around how much of a dick you were to me. Every action an ulterior motive to get me reading subtext again so I can get hurt again. So I can give you a free pathway to attack and abuse me with. Find someone else.

[m1sssan]

I'm Exhausted

Day in day out I'm just tired all the time. There is rarely a day when I feel normal. It is a truly rare occasion where I feel like I have energy and I'm able to think clearly. Where I don't feel bogged down or overwhelmed. Where getting up and doing something isn't a battle of the self. When I have a day where I have energy, it's like I breathe better. It's like everything looks clearer. It's like color's look brighter and the world feels more richer. I haven't had a day like that in over six months.

Sometimes I worry about the small things that don't matter. I work in retail and my job entails the care of showrooms. I think about tile and carpet samples and displays. Sometimes I obsess over a missing display to the point where not being able to resolve it means it's something I'm taking home. By that I mean I think about Lisola Wilsonart display I'm missing. I would prefer it leave my mind but there I am 2 a.m. in bed thinking about Lisola from Wilsonart.

Sometimes I worry about the big things almost entirely out of my power. I think about how shitty the economy is. How I feel hopeless about climbing out to meet the standards my parents where able to achieve with no education. How groceries and food is so fucking expensive. How I couldn't get an education anyway because I genuinely don't think I can get through school and work. Forget about student loans. Sometimes my partner makes it seem affording a house is in our ability but the reality is much harsher than that.

Sometimes I worry about the bigger things that are almost entirely out of my power. Our government. The censorship. The tracking of personal data. How everything is being centered around making already wealthy elite assholes into bigger wealthier assholes. People who don't have the capacity to care about the small fries at the bottom of the barrel so far removed from their circle.

I vote and I believe that is all the power I am able to commit to. As little as it is, it is a fundamental right I feel everyone should exercise. And I get frustrated when my peers don't understand that. I argued with a coworker for two hours before she understood what the right to vote means. She's eight years younger than me. She's supposed to be the new hope for our country. And she doesn't believe in voting. I hope I delivered the message more clearer.

I'm overwhelmed with the small drama people expect me to play. I don't play third games I can't read your fucking mind. Just speak to me bluntly and I'll do the same. I don't have the energy to play mind games at work. I want so badly to be able to fit in but I think its just better I don't. I get I stick out from any group I'm put in but if blending in requires me to play mind games I'll pass. I've had to make peace all my life that I can't fit in. So I'll just have to keep making peace with for the rest of my life I won't be able to fit in.

I was abused as a kid. I didn't know it was abuse. It's the quite kind I guess if you can call it that. The kind that isn't always physical but the threat of corporal punishment was always loomed over. And I don't blame my folks. How can I? To them my upbringing was better than theirs. And I guess to some degree maybe it was. I mean I guess at least as shitty as my step dad was he wasn't an abusive alcoholic who laid his hands on everyone in the family. But it's hard to say what he put us through was anything much better.

I was a punching bag for my folks anytime they felt stressed, which was often. I was an emotional punching bag and it was exhausting. It was like living on egg shells. You made a single mistake and it would ruin everything for everyone for the whole day and they'd let you know it was you. I forgot to put towels in the dryer one time. And instead of working around finding a solution, I was the problem. Our day of going out having fun was cancelled. Instead the entire day was focused on how shitty a fucking dumb ass child I was for forgetting to put towels in the dryer at age 14.

I don't know what the worst parts where. It's tied between talking mom out of suicide when I was 16 and being helpless to do so (She's still alive). And having her call me a stupid bitch for not being able to find her socks in the morning. Or her yelling at me for an hour straight about maybe being gay at around 11 years old because I liked drawing digimon. The rest of it I can't really put a clear picture on it.

I was an alcoholic through out my twenties. I drank the pain away as much as I could. Tried to forget as much as I could. I didn't think I was an alcoholic. It was around covid when I made new online friends. They helped point out my drinking was out of control. I started to try quitting. But it was hard. I made an important friend some two years ago and I realized I couldn't remember our conversations because of my drinking habit. I was getting blackout twice a week at that point.

That's when I finally put it down for good. I drink occasionally but not so much anymore. Like once in a blue moon three beers max. I don't enjoy being extremely drunk anymore. It's not a great feeling. It makes me feel violently sick when I drink like that.

I recently found out I might have ADHD or I might be on the spectrum. It's more likely I have ADHD. It would explain a lot of issues I have. I want to get an official diagnosis. It costs a lot of money. Money I can't just spend but at the same time I'd prefer to know. Either way I guess it doesn't make much a difference. I'd just prefer to know I'm a donkey in a world of horses than a really fucked up horse.

I don't know where I was going with this. I just wanted to get some things off my chest. Things that are bothering me. Things that keep me up at all hours of the night. I just want peace. Yell into a nothingness void that's still on the edge of tangibility. Like maybe I can come back to the rant, re-read it and evaluate myself. Evaluate how am I doing later than yesterday.

I'm so fucking tired. What am I doing here? What is this all for? I don't expect answers. I don't think I want answers. I just want to live as simply as I can. If I can live day in day out giving my love where it is needed maybe that's all I need to put out in the world. It's hard for me to look hopeful in a hopeless world but it's better do what is in your power, and ability than it is to quit. To take all the hurts in the world laying down. I'm done taking all the hurts laying down. If I get knocked on my ass again I just need to pick myself up. Do it all over again. It's easy to quit anyone can do that. It's harder to try. It's more worthwhile to try even if there was nothing really gained, at least you gained something small in yourself.

[2024inwords]

The Chapter 7 reading on employee responsibilities got me thinking about what a “manager” truly means beyond the title that comes with a higher pay grade.

DesJardins talks about how as a manager, it is crucial to understand that one has a responsibility to various stakeholders – both internal and external. Often times, we get lost in the idea that we only have 1 master to serve – the company; but in reality, we also have a responsibility towards customers, employees, the law, and the community. As someone who is in sales, I’ve always struggled with the push-and-pull of negotiations. Because on one hand, I am supposed to be representing the company to deliver on results but on the other hand, there are moments when I also get stuck putting myself in the shoes of the customer. While I know there is nothing wrong with that mindset because I am a firm believer of “do not do unto others what you do not want others to do unto you” admittedly, there were times when I felt like I was leaning more towards one stakeholder vs another, particularly customers. However, this chapter gave me a bit more perspective on that personal struggle of mine – I realized that I probably tended to lean towards the customer’s needs because I wanted to portray that I am a business partner they can trust. There are often misconceptions about sales people and while the kind of sales I am doing is not the commission-based one and more of business development, I think I wanted to prove to my customers and to myself that I am trustworthy and I sincerely want to help them grow their business because as the reading highlights, at the core of our responsibilities as a manager lies the fundamental principle of trustworthiness.

Trust is a crucial element in any relationship, be it personal or professional. Whether it's fostering trust with customers by delivering on promises, ensuring the well-being and growth of employees, adhering to legal standards, or contributing positively to the community, trust forms the bedrock upon which all interactions are built. As the saying goes, "Trust takes years to build, seconds to break, and forever to repair." Hence, trust is usually the foundation of a productive and healthy workplace environment. It enables open communication, collaboration, and innovation, which are essential for the success of any business.

Human existence is inherently interdependent, and no one can live a fully self-sufficient life alone. We rely on others for various aspects of our lives, whether it's for goods, services, emotional support, or collaboration. In this interconnected web, trust serves as the adhesive that binds individuals and organizations together, facilitating cooperation and progress. Recognizing this inherent need for trust underscores the significance of upholding trustworthiness in all business endeavors.

Acting ethically and on principle often requires courage, discipline, and willpower. In the fast-paced and competitive business environment, staying true to one's principles can be challenging amidst temptations and pressures to cut corners or compromise values for short-term gains. However, it is precisely in these moments of moral dilemma that the true test of character arises. Virtue ethics advocates for the cultivation of habits and character traits that facilitate ethical decision-making, even in the face of adversity.

It is imperative to recognize that individual responsibility for character development does not exist in isolation. Virtue ethics underscores the significance of moral development and education, emphasizing the profound influence of surroundings in shaping individuals' ethical compass and behavior. This insight imparts a valuable lesson to businesses—they must be conscientious about cultivating a positive and ethical culture. By creating an environment conducive to ethical reflection and growth, organizations can instill a sense of shared values and collective responsibility among their members.

Consideration of responsibilities extends beyond internal dynamics to encompass external stakeholders. Managers are entrusted with the responsibility of balancing the needs and expectations of customers, employees, the law, and the community. This multi-faceted role requires a comprehensive understanding of the ethical implications of decisions and actions. By navigating this intricate web of responsibilities, a manager contributes to the establishment of trust both within and outside the organization.

Reflecting on these ideas, it becomes evident that the ethos of trust and responsibility is not a static concept but a dynamic force shaped by continuous moral development. Organizations that foster a culture of virtue ethics and prioritize the holistic development of their employees contribute to the creation of an ethical and trustworthy business environment.

In conclusion, the interplay between employee responsibilities and trust is a crucial aspect of ethical conduct in business. The role of a manager in today's business landscape transcends mere profitability and encompasses a wide-range of responsibilities to customers, employees, the law, and the community including building trust, upholding ethical standards, and promoting moral development. One’s actions and decisions have a significant impact on others. By embracing these principles, businesses can cultivate a culture of trust, ethical conduct, and responsibility, laying the foundation for sustainable success in the ever-evolving business landscape.

[snapshots-of-the-young-egotist]

I kid around a lot but I am serious about needing two things for certain: the mountains and the beach. There are several things I want to do in Boone while I'm there and the first is to stop by The Comeback Shack. . Then drive down a few memory lanes.. aka drive around the town - literally - around town- (because it's a circle..) ah I'm actually laughing about this because Iykyk.. but there is one particular street I must drive by. Simply for the fact that it is one of my favorite places in the world now. Its serenity on a sunny day captivated me and made quite an impression on me in my youth. So many years ago.. The trees cast these marvelous shadows against the window shield, and the road winds at a certain angle- and if you drive too fast, or are even remotely distracted- it'll take you straight downhill. I like to think about the value in that all or nothing sort of state.

I put this song here because in 2015 I reconsidered how I was living my life. I listened to RKS all summer. I attempted to reconstruct what my version of reality could look like, if I took other people out of the equation and only committed to myself. It was a profound time for me. I did quite a bit of soul work. Quite a bit of healing. Got invited to a mediation hosted by the very Swamji I dreamed of 6months prior! I did so many things for myself that summer. Just to kind of prove, not only was I capable of the discipline to navigate whatever trajectories the path before me throws me to, but that I was capable of making others see the value in what I would like to bring forth. My first dose of relaxation came in the form of receiving an offer to publish a transcript I submitted. Now, that in itself was an eye opening crash course in "Be in the world, but not of it." . And, "Nothing you do in life is important. . But it is very important that you do it." What I mean by that, I did not want to continue down the path I felt uncomfortable on. So after meditating I only had the same ideas come to me about how to make money while still being completely free and available 24/7. . Cue my anxiety and throw in a little runners high for the motivation to finally summon the courage to submit my work, and bam- I got exactly what I wanted. I got exactly what I wanted and it still did not feel right. Why was that?! It is because, it was what I wanted, but it was just a version of what I wanted. Meaning, I had other options. Many more publishers to shop this around to. Not in an egoic way, like, "I can have any publisher I want!" No. What I am speaking of, is the fact that the we all have choices to make sometimes that will change the entire trajectory of our lives. If something is a little off, it doesn't mean you are supposed to ignore it and expect it to go away. . (It never will) Instead of ignoring the feelings when you recognize something is off, it is much more helpful to ask, what is a better version of this outcome? So for me, I could see myself giving parts of myself away to a publisher that saw something in me. Something enough to give me a chance, right? Right.. but just because one or two or a few people see our value and would like to afford us recognition of our value, we must also be astute to our value. We must know our value well enough to place borders around our standards, but not our potential. I've held off on completely finishing what I think will be a great book. I know one thing; once I get this one going, maybe I can branch out to the collection of children's books. Anyways- I just kind of feel the need to bring the energy full circle and go back to the place that taught me so many things.

Deviating from expressing my gameplan. . the beach situation has me a little thrown atm. . On a whim I decided myrtle- but like- in that, "I need a beach desperately" kind of way.. that only a place like Myrtle Beach could deliver on.. The thing is, it will be Stella's very first time at the beach. I'd rather take her to like Sullivans Island or Kiawah. Idk.

60day update- after my phone was definitely stolen and then returned I decided I'm not going to get to enjoy my laundry mat day anymore. Although I had to go to Lowe's for a carpet cleaner, and reminded myself to get a belt for the dryer- guess what I did not do while I was there?! So that's great. I will do that tmrw and I will have at least one thing to be accomplished abt. So that and some spray paint for the mini-projects I need to finish- weather permitting. i think, so far, the biggest takeaway I think I've gotten with this challenge, is that things really can change in just a single moment. Not like, an actual single moment- but like, many moments - are are suddenly realized in a moment-

one moment today caused me to reconsider why I am suddenly ready to do things that apparently I have had time for in the past. I'm really spring cleaning right now- everything around me- including myself, my mind, my body- all of it, ya know? .. so I'm really digging here and I have been all year. So I keep having these run ins with the past. Some of it is pleasant. Like, opening a suitcase and seeing old clothes I haven't seen in a while.. that's pleasant. But some other things I run into, are not so pleasant. I like to think I refrain from suppressing much, and that is exactly what allows me to bring forth the proper balance into my life. But sometimes, some things, cause you to recognize something for what it is. Or, what it is not, and never could be. Something is really looking and I cannot make out what it is to save my life. It's so subtle- but something is on the way- and for several months now, I've only been made aware of this because it's energetic signature is so profound, I can't not feel it. Can't not expect it. . I also can not put my finger on it! Honestly I think it's going to be something good, but then when I meditate on what it will be, there is cause for concern. So I'm stranded. The only thing that I'm allowed to know, is that something is on its way. Whichever way it goes, preparing is pivotal in casting a strong foundation- within the mind and within emotions. Mastery of those never sits idle for too long.

I have got to stop being so afraid to make decisions. I say that, and go to employ my decision making skills, and something always goes awry.

I think what usually causes my discomfort is the expression of dismay in someones face when they do not like what I have to say.

this is a lot and I am a lot. There is a lot going on right now. I have a lot of projects in my mind and in reality and I just love that I get this quiet little space here to kind of just dump everything that I am trying to sort out.. or need to sort out .. but don't want to forget to sort out. What I should really be doing is putting my appointments here as a reminder so I don't miss anymore of them!

I guess before my birthday I will schedule that schtupid eye exam and get those schtupid glasses that I swear to God I will either lose or break by way of Stella stealing them, or me dropping them and then stepping on them in my haste to pick them up..

ugh and ah

that's right

I'm repulsed and excited

but mostly sleepy