#i don't like walter anyway so whatever

[imjustavenuxwithaboomerang]

doogie kameāloha m.d. + text posts (pt 2)

(1)

[bemusedlybespectacled]

since @sketchy-scribs-n-doods asked why birth certificates are racist:

preface: read this post about eugenics so that I don't have to write that overview again.

anywho! the very very short version is that there was a guy named Walter Ashby Plecker (hereafter "the Plecker fucker") who was a doctor in Virginia in the late 1800s/early 1900s. like he was born right around when the Civil War ended and his family owned slaves, if you want to get an idea of the time and place we're talking about.

the Plecker fucker, along with a couple of his good buddies John Powell and Ernest Sevier Cox(1) from the Anglo-Saxon Club(2), wrote and lobbied for a law called the Racial Integrity Act (incidentally, one of the blueprints the Nazis used for their own laws), which did a couple of things:

it legally categorized every person into either "white" or "colored," with "white" being only people with a completely unbroken and provable white European heritage – with a teeny tiny exception for people who were less than 1/16th Native American that he was bullied into including(3) – and "colored" being literally everything else, with no specificity as to whether it meant Black or Asian or Native American or whatever;

it prohibited white people from marrying colored people (though notably not banning having sex with them: we're talking about a guy whose family owned slaves here, so you can do the math on that)

it allowed for the sterilization of certain undesirable people, such as the mentally ill; and, most importantly for our purpose:

it required all births and marriages to be registered in a big state-wide database, with the races of all parties listed.

and he also set himself up as the first guy in charge of that registry, so that it would be done exactly the way he wanted it.

prior to this, if you could get away with passing as white, you were (generally) treated as white. this was to prevent any white-passing mixed race people from marrying into white society (because their birth certificate records would show that their parents had nonwhite heritage), and eventually eliminate mixed race people, period.

now, obviously birth certificates weren't in common use before this law, so at least the first wave of people affected by the law could still (in theory) lie about their ethnicity and establish themselves as white on their birth certificates, thus allowing them to continue marrying "real" white people.

not a problem! the Plecker fucker fancied himself a bit of a genealogist (meaning he thought everyone with the same last name was related, somehow), so he'd just go in and edit people's records to say "colored," invalidating their marriages in the process, and ordered all of the people under him to do the same. like, there's a letter he sent out to the county-level people that was like, "anyone with the last name Collins [yes, really] is actually mixed race, DO NOT LET THEM GET MARRIED TO WHITE PEOPLE, EDIT ALL THEIR RECORDS."(4)

outside of the obvious negative effects of the law in general not allowing interracial marriages (until it was overturned by Loving v. Virginia in 19-fucking-67) and sterilizing anyone disabled or "feebleminded," him going in and literally erasing Native heritage from records has prevented Virginian Native Americans from being able to claim federal tribal recognition, because it's all just "white" or "colored," which could mean anything nonwhite.

anyway, that's why birth certificates are racist. they were made up by a racist guy to do more racism. and then that racist guy got hit by a car and died.

I stg this is the short version. the longer version was idk how many pages before I melted into a depressed puddle of goo and almost flunked out of my senior year of college.

(1) Ernest Sevier Cox was a weird fucking dude in that he was really good friends with Marcus motherfucking Garvey, to the point that they attended each other's events, dedicated books to each other, and wrote each other a lot of letters even after Garvey was deported to Jamaica (and Cox personally tried to get Garvey released from jail when he was imprisoned for mail fraud). This was partly because white nationalism and black separatism accomplished the same ultimate goals (i.e. Black people leaving the US) from different angles, but I think they just also genuinely liked each other? For some reason??

(2) Basically the KKK but for genteel, refined, upper-class people instead of violent, disorderly peasants (yes, they legit disliked the KKK because it was a poor person thing). Also, I can't find it again, but at one point when I was researching all this in college, I was looking through old school newspapers and either William & Lee or William & Mary had a junior Anglo-Saxon Club, sort of like a Young Republicans, and one of their contributions to the student newspaper was a piece about how they definitely weren't racist and how dare they be accused of racism, they just didn't want blacks or whites mixing! How is that racist? (Yes, they used the word "racist," and I have no idea what their definition of racism was, if it wasn't what they were doing) Anyway, I think about that a lot.

(3) This is informally called the Pocahontas Exception, because a lot of really, really influential, prominent and rich Virginians actually took a lot of pride in claiming to be descended from Pocahontas and John Rolfe (even if they weren't), and without the exception, they'd all be classified as "colored." Plecker didn't want any exceptions at all (he was, at the very least, not a hypocrite about what he thought "white" meant), but given that some of the people the law would make "colored" would potentially be voting on the law, he had to include the exception or risk it not being passed at all.

(4) The reason I even got into this subject in the first place is that one of my family tree names is on that list and we're pretty sure they moved to Kentucky because of it, but it doesn't necessarily mean they're related to us OR that they were white-passing mixed-race people: they could well have been just plain white people who happened to have the same surname.

[marsbar17]

im like a woman in a desert dying we are so depraved of bloodhound x reader stuff pls just give anything at this point 😭😭😭🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲

Don't worry pookie I am here to quench your thirst <3

Bloodhound is honestly my favorite character to write about and this one flustered me a bit dbsbbsjska

CONTAINS: established relationship, alcohol consumption, jealousy, possessiveness but in a non-toxic way, a little bit of spice, not full on smut but it gets pretty spicy >:)

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Celebrating a win was very popular amongst the legends. Mirage often invited everyone to the Paradise Lounge for some drinks and good laughter, even the less cheerful legends attended most of the time. Caustic could be found sipping beers and glaring at people, while Ballistic complained on and on about how they didn't even serve good tea.

Today, you sat at the bar between a very tipsy Fuse and an arguably even tipsier Valkyrie. Mirage popped in and out of the celebration as he served customers, but he always made sure your glass was full with whatever drink you desired.

"Mate! That wingman shot was bloody beautiful!" Fuse practically yelled into your ear as his metal hand clapped you on the back, making you wince slightly. Somehow, you had managed to pull off a win after responding in the last ring with only a wingman and one other teammate at half health. I guess whatever god is out there took the wheel because suddenly your aim was the best it's ever been and you downed the last two enemies with two headshots.

"I know, Walter. You've told me about fifteen times since we sat down." Rolling your eyes, you down the rest of your drink before scouring the crowd of legends to try and find Bloodhound. They said they'd be there, but you hadn't seen them yet. Although, it's hard to find anyone with the flashing lights and the alcohol starting to take effect.

Giving up, you turned back to your empty glass and smiling friends. If they didn't come, that was fine. They usually didn't enjoy settings like this anyway, they only only came to guide you back to room after you got wasted.

"The old man's right, though." Valkyrie added in, dragging your attention away from Bloodhound and back into the party. "Seeing you hone into the fight always surprises me, I swear your whole energy changes. It's fucking hot."

The pilot said it so nonchalant, taking a swig of her drink and signaling to Mirage for another like she didn't just call you hot. You couldn't tell if the heat on your face was from the alcohol or how flustered you felt. Probably just the alcohol.

"I'm gonna hafta agree with Valk on this one." Fuse said, still quite loud. He put his arm around your shoulders. "You make bloodlust look bloody sexy. No pun intended." His laugh is deep and booming, shaking your body as he leans on you. What the fuck is happening? You knew the two of them were flirty drunks, but you'd never had their affections directed at you before.

Again, you found yourself looking around the room, and this time you spotted Bloodhound leaning against a wall, watching you. Fuck. They were mad, you could tell. Even without seeing their expression you could practically feel the anger rolling off of them. The fact that Fuse was now playing with strands of your hair and Valkyrie had her hand on your upper arm didn't help your case at all.

You quickly got up, saying a small goodbye to your companions before making your way to a pissed off Bloodhound. They didn't even wait for you to get to them before they walked out the door, leaving you to hurry after them.

"What was that, elskan?" Their voice surprised you as you left the building, and you whipped your head around to see them beside the doorway. They leaned again the wall once again, arms crossed over their chest.

"I'm sorry, Hound. They were drunk and they surprised me and I didn't know what to do and I didn't mean to let them keep going and I-"

"Hush." Bloodhound interrupted your nervous rambling, holding a hand out in a 'halt' gesture. You shut your mouth as quickly as you possibly could, not wanting to anger them any more than you thought you already had. Before they continued speaking, they led you around the side of the building into a less visible alleyway. "I am not blaming you, I simply wanted to know what happened."

They weren't mad at you? Thank the Allfather. Having Bloodhound mad at you was something straight out of a horror film. Your body relaxed, but you still kept your head down instead of looking into their face.

"They got drunk... and we were talking about my win." You started your explanation again, slowly this time to avoid rambling. "Their compliments started getting flirty, and then they started getting touchy. I should've pushed them off, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. You are not responsible for the actions of drunken fools." Bloodhound grabbed your chin with a gloved hand, lifting your face to look them in the eyes. Well, where their eyes would be behind the goggles of their mask. "I trust you, elskan. I know that you are mine, and you would not betray me. Especially for someone like Walter Fitzroy."

You laughed, the tension leaving you as you slowly let yourself process the fact that they weren't mad at you. From the way their shoulders jumped slightly, you could tell they were laughing too.

"However," Bloodhound continued, letting go of you and reaching behind their head. "It seems like our other other companions need a reminder of who you belong to." You heard the familiar sound of their mask being unclasped, and soon enough you were really looking into their eyes as they set their mask along with their respirator onto an old wooden box beside the two of you.

You couldn't even speak before they grabbed your waist, spinning you around so your back was pressed up against the rough brick wall. You could only gasp as their hands gripped at your skin and their face nuzzled into your neck, leaving small kisses along your jawline.

"You are so beautiful. So perfect, ástin mín." Bloodhound muttered praise as the kisses slowly became more desperate. They nibbled at your skin lightly, not enough to hurt just yet. You looked towards the alley opening and whined slightly.

"Hound, someone could see us..." You grabbed at their shoulders, trying to push them back away from your neck. They pulled back, not even looking at the alley, only into your eyes.

"Would you like me to stop?" Bloodhound rubbed soothing circles into your hips, keeping your attention on them and not the possibility of someone seeing the two of you.

"No... but what if they see your face?"

"They will not. I will be too busy giving you tons of pretty marks."

Bloodhound didn't let you speak again as they dived back into the crook between your shoulder and your neck, sucking on the skin harshly. You couldn't suppress the moan that left your lips no matter how hard you tried, and you quickly slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle any further noise. They just continued to mutter praise into your skin while they savored every reaction you gave them.

It hurt, and you squirmed in their bruising grip. They were determined to mark you up until they were satisfied and wouldn't settle for any less. It was a miracle no one managed to walk past the alleyway while Bloodhound ravaged your neck and collarbones. It wasn't like you were being quiet either, the intensity at which they sucked and bit at your skin was enough to make tears well up in your eyes and to bring so many sinful noises from your mouth.

"I should just take you right here, where anyone could see how good I make you feel, elskan." They whispered in your ear, making your knees buckle and your eyes roll back. Good thing they were holding you against the wall, or you might've just fallen to your knees right then and there.

After what felt like forever, their teeth stopped grazing your skin and their grip on your waist loosened. You could feel their tongue darting out of their mouth to lick at and soothe the dark bruises they left on your skin. Your moans and whimpers turned to soft whined and sighs as the pain slowly faded into dull numbness. Bloodhound took a couple of steps backwards, looking at their work with a smirk.

"Absolutely gorgeous, kæri. Now, everyone will be able to see your devotion to me." They gave you one last look before grabbing their gear and putting it back on.

You just finished wiping any stray tears from your face before Bloodhound grabbed your hand and led you back into the Paradise Lounge. They escorted you back to your seat at the bar, giving you a pat on the head before walking back to the wall you saw them at before everything happened.

"....Bloody hell." Fuse's mouth was practically hanging open as he stared at the dark purple and red marks that littered your skin. "Didn't take Houndy to be the possessive type." He just laughed and shrugged before going back to his drink. Valkyrie had disappeared sometime during your absence, and all that was left was two empty soju bottles and a $20 bill on the bar.

"Yeah... So where did Valk go?"

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Thank you for requesting, I hope you like it!

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Requests are always welcome! They help me get the inspiration to write and produce more content for you! Request anything that's on your mind :)

[tokoyamisstuff]

uuuum.. kind of corny but walter x reader hcs/scenarios for him comforting his s/o... maybde.....

Nothing is too corny, we're all here to enjoy ourselves! 🫶

gn! Reader | some Angst | misunderstanding

You're definetly on to him.

Walter never bought the excuse of you being "sick" to begin with. If you really were, then why wouldn't you just let him nurse you back to health?!

As time passed, his initial worry had turned into apprehension and ultimatively determination to do whatever is necessary to keep his secret.

You could hear him ghosting through the hallways of the Hellsing estate, his steps always suspiciously close to your room even during late hours.

Today, he finally worked up the courage to knock and get this over with.

He didn't give you the courtesy of announcing himself, let alone giving you time to dismiss him as the door swung open before you could utter a single word.

Walter mutely scanned the room, seeing the barely touched food he had put in front of your doorstep each day. A sigh escapes his lips as his gaze finally locked onto you, cowering in bed with the blanket pulled deep over your head.

"I told you I want to be left alone..." you spoke in a breathless whisper, voice hoarse and defeated. Even that feeble snivel of yours caused his heart to clench in a way he couldn't possibly ignore, his carefully built resolve crumbling just like that.

Maybe there's another way to resolve the situation. There had to be!

"Little dove..." Hearing that nickname made you shuffle just enough to face him, and briefly you could've sworn to see the faint gleam of his wires in the air. Probably your eyes are just strained from crying.

Walter tentatively approached you, the creases on his forehead increasing as he saw the state you were in up close. Still, his expression softened significantly when he took seat at the edge of your bed, the back of his hand gently brushing against your tear-stained cheek.

His mission be damned.

"You look terrible." It was a concerned observation, yet you couldn't help but wring out a joyless laugh at his remark. "Exactly what I needed to hear, thanks." Sitting up to regain at least part of your dignity, you add "Am I in trouble? I know I've been absent for a long time already..."

"No, of course not. Sir Integra insisted you take all the time you need." Walter's fingers comb through your unkempt hair, scanning every single of your microexpressions for any hint of fear or revulsion - yet instead you lean into his touch, cheek nuzzling against his palm. "I merely wanted to be there for you, my dearest."

You crack a smile that did not at all match your eyes, placing one hand on his thigh. "Walter, I'm sorry...I didn't want to bother you with my trivial problems. It's just a mental health thing, really, I'm gonna be fine..."

Actually he should be relieved to hear this, but your confession was like a punch in the gut for the vampire hunter.

Not only did his paranoia lead him to assess the situation so terribly wrong, he apparently also failed to care for you in the way you needed long before this. He of all people should've seen it coming, yet he didn't notice any signs of your distress!

Utterly pathetic. Your partner had failed you. Worse, he came here to-

"Hey, now don't look all that gloomy." You cut him out of his self-loathing, giving his thigh a reassuring squeeze. Walter listens carefully as you begin to pour your heart out, his hand gently covering yours in a gesture that communicates words he couldn't bring himself to say and doubt you would want to hear anyway.

"Those problems are a steady companion, this is just a little relapse. Maybe I overexerted myself because I'm still new at the organization. I wanted to make a good impression, not only at work but especially for, well...you. I mean our relationship is pretty fresh, and I...I don't know. I feel pretty inadequate lately, I doubt you or any of those outstanding people could understand."

"Oh, you'd be surprised" he admits with a low chuckle, his sanguine eyes not leaving yours as he lifts your hand to his mouth, lips brushing softly against your knuckles. "Well, I'm grateful you shared this with me, love. Now I know I need to be more attentive."

"Please, don't go out of your way for me. It's me who should thank you for putting up with-" Walter cuts you off right then, silencing you with an index finger on your lips that's swiftly replaced with his lips.

"Don't you ever dare to speak so lowy about yourself again" he murmurs against the shell of your ear, one hand on the small of your back pulling you closer against him. "But I'll save the scolding for later - right now I'll have to take care of a stubborn fool."

You can't deny it, the offer has just become increasingly tempting.

[itmeansiris]

The Solar System Legacy Challenge: Found Gen 1 pt.67

Kiersten: Your phone is ringing again.

M:..

Kiersten: Please let me take you inside. It's freezing out here.

M:....

Kiersten: I know we haven't known each other that long, but you are my closest friend here and I care for you like a sister. So I’m going to be honest. I don't think Kason did whatever it is that Paris is trying to convince you of. And yes, I know he kept things from you.. but maybe he had a good reason. The love between you two is different.

M:......

Kiersten: I've never seen any man look at anyone the way that Kason looks at you. I'm not even sure he knows the female gender exist outside of you. You need to talk to him. You told me yourself, he's never done anything to make you distrust him.

Finally she breaks her silence.

M: No, he never has. I swear I'm not trying to be close minded here. I want to talk and give him a chance to tell me its not what it looks like, but...

Kiersten: It's her isn't it?

M: Why does she know the girl in that photo? Why would Kason spend time with anyone that would willingly associate with her.

Kiersten nods in understanding

Kiersten: This is why you need to talk to him. Only he can answer those questions for you, AND! when you do, don't let what Paris said cloud your judgement. She's a bitter and jealous women, Kason is your husband, your soulmate.

M: What if I don't like the answers I get? Then what?

Kiersten shakes her head, a genuine smile lit up her gorgeous face. She takes M by the hand helping her onto her feet. She wraps a reassuring arm around M’s waist, pulling her in close, both for comfort and warmth while leading her towards the exit.

Kiersten: Its going to be okay. Come on, we can call him when we get inside.

For the second time that evening Kiersten was M’s guide to safety. Sheltering her from the cold and attempting to shield her mind from the thoughts that threatened to consume her normally jovial friend.

The Gratz Backyard

Kason: Well, they aren't here.

Rufus: We could go inside. What's the harm?

Kason: Do you want to explain to a sleepover full of kids that we don't know where their mothers are?

Rufus: I'm sure that wouldn't please your mother-in-law either. You've made your point.

Kason could feel himself reaching a point of desperation. They'd been searching for M and Kiersten for almost 2 hours and no one but Paris had seen them leave. Neither were answering the phone and it was getting noticeably colder as the night dragged on.

Kason: Let's head to your place. The temperature is dropping I doubt they're hanging around outside.

Kason checked his phone for the millionth time. The ringer was on full volume but It hadn't made a sound all evening. He checked anyway, trying to stay positive as they hurry up the street hoping to find his heart.

The Walter’s house

Kiersten watched M from the kitchen. She'd been staring at her phone for 10 minutes before dropping her head onto the table. She was supposed to be texting Kason but had yet to muster up the courage.

Kiersten: I told you. I can just call Rufus and tell him we’re here. I'm sure they're together. Kason must be worried.

M: What do I say when I see him?

Her voice muffled by the table.

Kiersten: You tell him what you saw and then you ask your questions and listen.

She lifts her head from the table with notable effort. She was tired, cold and her stomach was tying its self into water knots. She’d already abandoned her cup of coffee and had completely ignored the plate of Spooky cookies Kiersten had laid out, more out of politeness than M’s willingness to consume anything since Paris’s little bombshell.

M: This feels so strange. Normally when I have a problem I talk to Kason.

Kiersten: It's easy to see you two love each other but so obvious that you’ve never hit a bump in the road. In your relationship I mean. I have a feeling yours will pass quickly.

M: Why?

Kiersten: Because, I know he didn't do it, and so do you. Your upset because your confused. For the first time he did something uncharacteristic but who's to say its a bad thing.

M refused to look Kiersten in the face even though her tone almost demanded her attention. She didn’t want her to see how she clung to those words like a lifeline.

M: I hope you’re right.

Just outside Kason and Rufus rush into the house. Once inside they hurry to their respective partners gathering and fussing over the women to be sure they were unharmed.

Kason: Thank the watcher! M are you okay? I've been trying to call you.

She nods to avoid making eye contact.

Rufus: Ya could have called me.

Kiersten: I'm sorry My love.

As Kiersten and Rufus embraced and whispered sweet comforts to each other Kason takes M by the hand and without a word leads her into the Walter’s backyard.

The air had a bite to it, as the breeze blew in from the coast. The only sound was the whispers of the wind and the constant swaying of multicolored leaves as they dried and fell to the ground with the faintest tap.

Kason: Mercury

M: who is she?

Her voice, barely above a whisper, carries in the empty yard.

Kason: Her name is Madison.

He waits, knowing she needed to be in control of this situation. He didn’t rush her, allowing her time to think her next question through.

M: And?

She finally responds, a hint of irritation coating her tone. 

Kason: And nothing M. I met Madison at the clinic the day of Comets appointment. She was there with her cat. She said hello and we talked for a while. That was it.

M: That was it?! Then why are there two pictures of you!

Kason was taken back. He couldn't recall a time he'd heard M truly raise her voice in anger. The furrow in her brow wasn't the same as when she was intensely focused, but he knew why. He wasn’t ignorant to what she was truly upset about, but he didn’t want her to ask because he didn’t have an answer yet.

Kason: After my meeting on Saturday, Madison was at the cafe with friends when I got there. She came over to say hi.

It wasn’t a total lie but it wasn’t the truth and it killed him to not tell her everything.

M: She's friends with Paris.

Kason: Mercury, I swear I had no idea she was friends with Paris.

Mercurys phone rings, its Takara. She ignores it.

M: But Paris..

Kason: M please, listen to me. I don't know what Paris said or what she tried to make this seem like but it isn't true. You know me Mercury I would never do anything to hurt you. Why would I? I’d be an idiot to trade you, or what we have for any woman.

He takes a step forward. She takes one back. That single step made her feel miles away instead of inches. She had never moved away from his embrace. It was a first and it hurt like hell.

M: The hardest part is in my heart I know I should trust you, I want to trust you but it hard to ignore the what’s right in my face Kason. If she’s just your friend, finding out about her like this feels wrong. I don't know what part Paris had to play in all this, but YOU lied to me. YOU kept her a secret, not Paris. You.

She walked past him and leaves. Taking with her everything he felt made him whole.

Previous Next

Beginning

[emocxnteddie]

!-! The Candle !-!

Couple/Ship; Astarion x GN!TAV[They/Them Pronouns]

Genre; Angst.

WARNINGS; Grief, Loss, Crying, Sad Astarion, TAV is dead, praying, swearing, death. {Let Me Know If More Is Needed}

Astarion made his way over to the shrine dedicated to a deceased follower of Eilistraee. The deceased person in question was TAV L/N.

Astarion kneeled down in front of the shrine, beginning to light each of the candles. He wasn't usually the kind to make any attempt to seek out the divine or even think about the divine, but TAV used to. His TAV, his darling.

TAV showed him how to love again, and freed him from Cazador. Astarion still would never accept that TAV was taken from him so soon, far too soon.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you." Astarion sighed and looked at the painting of TAV, the memories flooding back to him.

He couldn't hold it in anymore, he just felt himself break down. Tears streaming down his face. It pained him to know that he would no longer feel TAV's warm embrace or the way they'd laugh with him, how they'd comfort him whenever he needed it.

"Gods damn it. Why did you have to leave so soon!? Why did you even do such a reckless thing! You got yourself killed!" Astarion sobbed as he looked at the portrait, his heart hurt, everything hurt.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Astarion, they did a brave thing," Gale said and kneeled down next to Astarion, placing his own candle by the shrine and lighting it.

Astarion looked at Gale, wiping his tears. "Whatever..why are you here anyway?" Astarion mumbled and Gale looked at the portrait of TAV.

"You're not alone in missing them, all of us miss them, after all, they were the captain of our group," Gale said with a small smile.

Astarion stayed silent for a while, eventually nodding. "Yeah..but why would the gods take them away right after we won?" Astarion asked and Gale shrugged.

"The gods are weird like that, I should know since I was Mystra's chosen." Gale chuckled and clasped his hands together.

"You wanna pray with me?" Gale asked and Astarion smiled halfly, nodding. "Yeah, I can." Astarion sighed and clasped his hands together as well.

"Thanks, Gale." "Of course, we're friends after all."

[freyafrida]

how certain the journey special DVD bonus features

LOL this is a thing i did on my old blog when i first finished come back home ages ago, and I thought it would be fun to do again :> kind of, different format this time around. more notes and fun facts!

General inspo for this fic: besides, obviously, the desire to write something happy and shippy after reading Rilla of Ingleside, I always go back and forth on Walter's death. There are times when I think it's a little too easy, you know? On the one hand, I get why it had to happen, symbolically, why Walter is the one who has to die: he's the only one who grasps the full scope and horror of the war, who knows what he'd be sacrificing, he's the kindest and most sensitive character, he has the potential to be great and famous, he's the protagonist's favorite brother, etc. Of course he has to die.

ON THE OTHER HAND. Walter's last letter sometimes feels a little too neat to me, too -- life will never be beautiful for him again, so it's better that he dies anyway; he goes out in that "white flame of sacrifice", thinking that at least he has made the world better, that it's worthwhile. And, well. Those of us in the future know that's not really how it worked out.

Even all that aside -- Walter is romantic, otherworldly; the books repeatedly remark that he's not meant for this world or to grow up and do mundane things like get an office job and pay taxes and live to see, idk, space flight and rock music. So...sometimes I think it would be more interesting for Walter to live, to have to adjust to the postwar world, to have to cope with preparing himself to die and thinking at least he doesn't have to live with all he's seen...only to find out that, surprise, he does.

What always interests me about Walter and Una -- about the Blythes and Merediths in general, really -- is that the Meredith kids have a much harsher upbringing than the Blythes, even if the books rarely (if ever?) acknowledge it. Walter talks to Rilla of being happy before the war, with their home and parents; the Blythes' adventures in Rainbow Valley and Anne of Ingleside are all fairly harmless and twee. On the other hand, the Merediths' story in Rainbow Valley is sprinkled with death and hunger and neglect (even if it all gets wrapped up with And Then Rosemary Marries Rev. Meredith and Everything is Fine). Una in particular is very sensitive to the loss of her mother, and moreover she knows things in her house aren't right, that people talk about the Merediths for having a chaotic house and the children never being dressed properly.

So Walter and Una's dynamic interests me on that level! For survived-the-war!Walter/Una, I don't think it's as simple as Una healing Walter through being gentle or whatever. Rather, I think they're simply able to find common ground in knowing the world can be ugly and painful and randomly cruel. Walter doesn't have to hide that from Una the way he might with his sisters and other friends; they can be honest with each other, and that's where their relationship grows from.

This fic owes a lot -- a lot a lot -- to "Keeping Faith" by m_shell and "The Piper" by Una-Blythe! (I'll do a proper fic rec post one day, haha.) "Keeping Faith" is really the Walter/Una fic for me, it's tonally so perfect and gentle and aching. (Fully borrowed Walter's injury from this fic because I couldn't improve on it! I did toy with having him be blind, or having a face injury, but felt I wasn't writing about it convincingly.) I also really liked how Walter in "The Piper" is actually quite bitter, and how he and Una don't end up with ten kids and a perfect family at the end. Big inspiration there. (Also fully borrowed incorporating LMM's other characters into the fic from "The Piper" -- the Blue Castle reference in ch. 19 of Come Back Home came from there!)

Other big influence was weirdly George Mallory?? I read a couple of biographies about him and other 1900s dudes for ~research~ but ended up being particularly interested in Mallory's life (coincidentally, they found the boot of his climbing partner, Sandy Irvine, just this year). That also got me thinking about Walter's legacy, how "The Piper" (the poem) and his fame might impact his life later on. The epilogue was also inspired by interviews with Mallory and Irvine's descendants and how they try to remember their famous great-grandparents/great-uncles later on. (This interview with Mallory's daughter was one of the things I read and found really interesting.)

I think, realistically...if Walter had lived, his fame would probably wane. I don't imagine he would ever write anything quite as timely as "The Piper" ever again. I also think his creative output would probably be sharpest when writing about the war, and he'd end up in a struggle between selling his work to an audience who was generally sick of war poetry, but not being able to write as powerfully about anything else. I think, too, that people would be more enamored of a young soldier who wrote one powerful poem before dying in the war -- someone who lives, writes many other works that are overshadowed by that one poem, and spends the rest of his life being bitter about said war is less romantic. I can imagine Walter also unintentionally suppressing "The Piper"'s fame by refusing to let it be used for things or refusing to recite it. (I did end up referring to "In Flanders Fields" as though it exists in the universe alongside "The Piper" -- if "The Piper" replaces IFF as the big poem of the war, I can imagine IFF's fame overtaking it later in life due to McCrae's death.)

I think, too, that Walter, if he lived, would sort of hold himself back in life. I don't mean for it to come across as disappointment or a negative thing, necessarily, in the fic -- I wanted it to be bittersweet; that yes, he doesn't get all that he wants or dreams of, but he sees giving it up as a way to atone and live with himself. (I think it's totally possible, in another life, that he lives in Jazz Age Paris and is a famous poet and has a bunch of messy, destructive relationships that interest biographers just as much as his work, and he's maybe a better artist for never making peace with himself, but he's also not happy.) He knows what he's capable of, the things he's done. I definitely think he...I don't want to say "committed war crimes" haha, but did some things he wasn't proud of, at the front, not really caring about consequences because he was fully expecting to die. I think he'd sort of -- slightly self-centeredly, because Walter can be selfish -- see his own capacity for violence as symbolic of what led to the war and work to suppress it in himself, in his life. I think having a quiet life, giving love to the people around him, would be again a way of atoning and proving to himself that he's capable of kindness instead of destruction. Postwar Walter fully believes he's the worst person ever like THIS IS THE SKIN OF A KILLER, UNA

Um. What else? Some other fun facts:

Was kicking around the idea of finishing this in 2022-2023 because it was nearly fully 10 years since Come Back Home was finished but I was also like "lol probably won't happen" but then got a v. nice ask from @batrachised and was like "Oh man people are still out here!! I could actually finish it!!" so big thanks there and to everyone who kept reminding me to finish <333333

Really meant to write more Jem in here but he just kept...not being relevant, SORRY JEM.

I got a couple of comments back in the day asking if the fic would save Stripey from being drowned by Bruce and I meant to get to it but couldn't really find room for it. One day, another fic, etc. (I was coming down on the side of still killing Stripey, SORRY STRIPEY, because I think it's such a perfect and tragic encapsulation of the book's certainty that sacrifice is worthwhile, because it has to be, and then you're reading it 100 years later like "oof.")

Walter having a school in Saskatoon named after him actually came out of researching Midnighters fic for the character of Jessica, and seeing that a good chunk of schools in Chicago were named after people with zero connection to the city whatsoever.

Came up with most of the first story in the bath and am wondering if this was harder to write simply because I don't have a bathtub anymore 🤔

i meant to take a photo showing my drafts of come back home and how certain the journey side by side, but can u believe, I LEFT MY WRITING NOTEBOOK AT WORK LOL. Fortunately there's nothing too crazy in there, apart from the reveal that I write fanfic and also some original fiction that probably reveals far more of my psyche than I want it to 😅 so i only have my old-ass notebook from 2012 on hand, NOTEBOOK RETRIEVED! here's how it started (my handwriting was v. v. jank 12 years ago) and the last few things i wrote:

anyway thank you again everyone for entertaining me and this fic all the way until the end i love you all <3333333

[isa-ghost]

Hi I saw earlier you were asking for more qphil headcanons? How about phil and federation workers? Like Walter bob or ollie or obviously cucurucho?

Oooo this is a good one >:D

qPhil headcanons masterlist

It's on sight for just about every single one of them. Ollie's safe. Most workers? Neutral. The rabbits? A bit shady and strange, but not quite on sight. Everyone else, more or less? Catch these crow hands motherfuckers.

He has no emotional investment in any of them, even the ones that he's not bothered by. They're part of the Federation, Federation bad. End of story

He's still not entirely sure who the fuck Elena is and at this point he's too afraid to ask.

Tbh I think Walter Bob is the only one he actually genuinely liked, even if just only a little bit. Dude seemed like he was going thru it, Phil felt kinda bad for him

Personally he doesn't count the cappys as Federation aligned. Those are just some random chaotic little guys. Just some funky little tricksters. Maybe even weird Quesadeities. He has a headcanon that they just showed up one day and involved themselves in the events that the Feds put on for the islanders and the Feds just kinda accepted it. And had no choice but to do so anyway.

Nothing makes Phil saltier than trying to fuck up Fed buildings out of spite and anarchist displeasure only to be cockblocked by magic or the convenient arrival of a Fed worker to scold him.

He 100% thinks the tiny Purgatory guys like Luffy are infinitely cooler than any of the Quesadilla workers. They're the only good thing Egg Island had to offer.

He may hate the Feds but you bet your fucking ass he's a little gossip whore. If he heard there was drama and whatnot within the Federation he'd be like ☕️☕️☕️ Oh? WB07 and WB28 are getting a divorce? Interestinggggg,,,

He has very complicated feelings about Fred. On one hand, he appreciated that they made Tubbo happy. On the other, they're still a Fed. That was going to be a doomed relationship from the start one way or another. Did they deserve whatever apparent death happened? Hell no. But a Fed is a Fed and no matter how chill they seem, he's of the opinion that every single one of them should indiscriminately be held at arm's length or further away. For personal safety.

Given the last part of the above, he stares at Foolish like What The Fuck. He's convinced if things go tits up ever, Foolish has put himself in the position with the most metaphorical TNT. He's in waaay too deep.

DON'T GET HIM STARTED ON CUCURUCHO. HE HAS SO MANY RANTS. He wants that bitch in the ground SO BAD. What he wouldn't give to knock them down a peg or 7. Shady ass two-faced ass smug ass how do you do fellow kids islanders ass motherfucker!!!

Man he's in for a rude awakening when the islanders figure out the eggs are technically Feds, by the looks of things. How's THAT for no emotional investment, motherfucker. (He's gonna be a wreck :D)

GOD HE HATES AGENT 18. If he could kill any Fed besides Cucurucho, it'd be that motherfucker. Never has a single not condescending thing to say about him or his eggs, FUCK THAT GUY. He'd kick 18's ass in a heartbeat.

He's still wondering who the fuck was experimenting on Luffy. He wants to... talk 🗡 to them too.

I'm not counting Cellbit's Bolas Day 1 confession as canon so the day Phil finds out he slaughtered a bunch of workers is the day Phil throws Cellbit a massive party. Or at least gifts him a huge backpack of cool shit.

[agattthaa]

Jealous

Paring: Walter/Vyxaria

Word count: 1.848

Rating: T

(Mentions of jealousy)

Summary: Vyxaria didn't feel jealousy. It was time to Walter to learn that.

Based on the idea my dear @ratanslily gave me, I hope everyone enjoys it.

Vincent had been the first to leave, completely uninterested in whatever trouble that she could’ve put herself in already and Walter had already finished to place her things from his house to hers. And still, her door continued to open.

For no reason at all, of course.

Surely the last thing she wished to see after a near death experience was her annoying neighbors and their annoying kids, and still, her door was open. And really, for no reason at all.

Because surely the reason why she kept the apartment door open was to let some air get into the apartment after it was closed during an entire week and definitely wasn’t to see if someone would walk out of someone else’s apartment anytime soon. So, she simply focused on opening the boxes that rested on her floors and picking places for all the stuff she had bought, letting the empty, torn apart boxes in the way.

-Looks like you are having fun.

Of course, her peace could not last that long. The dark-haired woman stranded just outside of Vyxaria’s apartment, her hip resting against the doorway and a sarcastic smirk adorning her lips and Walter stood behind her with a worried face towards Vyxaria. The demon simply rolled her eyes to the scene, getting up from the floor and crossing her arms just under her chest.

-I don’t remember inviting you into my apartment.

-Oh, don’t worry, I’m just leaving. Just thought about coming here to give you a last look. I'm sure you appreciate my gesture of friendship, don’t you?

-You are not my friend. Get out of my house.

If the woman could feel her anger, she clearly did a good job at hiding it, stepping inside Vyxaria’s apartment and walking closer to the demon, the vicious smile still on her face. Walter gave one step forward, maybe thinking about putting an end to the situation, but one look from Vyxaria was enough to stop him. She might have no idea of what they are, but she knew that the woman was not a threat to her. Vyxaria was way too powerful for that.

-You are too angry, poor thing. I just came to say goodbye. Take care of him while I'm gone, okay? And please, try not to break his heart too much.

The woman's smile widened when Vyxaria got more annoyed, so she simply patted the demon on the shoulder and walked out, leaving one kiss on Walter's cheek before leaving the building. Walter looked embarrassed about the entire situation, especially about the little kiss, which only made her more annoyed. When the demon marched forward to close the door on his face, he took a step forward, getting inside her apartment.

Maybe Vyxaria should start walking around in her demon form, because it seemed that those mortals were forgetting who she was.

-Sorry about that. Please, pay her words no mind. It's simply how she is.

-I honestly couldn't care less about what your lover does or what she thinks of me.

-She's not my girlfriend!

He had never been that quick to disagree with her before. She didn't know what to think about that.

-Who is she then?

-She is… all you need to know is that there's no romantic connection between the two of us.

-And why would I need to know that?

-Perhaps you don't, but I want you to know, anyway.

It made no sense until it did. The high blush on his face, the way he was avoiding her eyes even with how close they physically were in that moment and the little smile on his lips.

-You think I am jealous.

It was a statement, she didn't need to ask, she was sure of it already. The red didn't leave his face but his eyes finally met hers, widened more than they ever were.

-Oh I didn’t mean to… It was not my intention…. I just don't want you to have the wrong impression.

She would never admit it out loud, but the stumble mixed with the red that now also tinted his ears and his neck made him look cute. She closed the door, making his eyes open a little wider.

This was going to be fun.

She grabbed him by the the front of his hideous blue sweater and pulled him towards her couch, carelessly throwing him there.

He sat there confused until she climbed on his lap, her legs each on the side of his, almost as if they were holding him into place, and now she was the one with a devious smile on her lips. One that only grew bigger as he grew redder.

-Vyxaria, what…

He immediately stopped talking when she rubbed her forearm on his cheek, precisely on the place he had been kissed minutes before.

-You wanted me to be jealous. Okay.

He was going to try to say something, she was sure of that, but his words died on his throat as soon as she kissed his forehead. Then his temple, and his left eye and his right eye, his cheek, his nose, his chin. Every stop on his face beside his lips.

And the exact place he had been kissed earlier.

Each kiss made him even more shy, and when she pulled back from kissing the corner of his mouth, she noticed he was no longer opening his eyes. Her smile only grew wider.

It was a weird satisfaction. One that she had never thought of having.

She had always searched for the most corrupted souls to feed on. She had gotten used to their disgusting hands and their disgusting taste. It bought her no other satisfaction outside of feeding and laughing when they fell into her illusions. She had never allowed them to really touch her, to really feel her, she had never taken the time to kiss them all over the face just to make them shy.

Not that any of her prey would even behave like Walter. If she had done this with anyone else, they would already been trying to take control and advantage of the situation. Their disgusting hands would be already trying to peel Vyxaria’s clothes away from her body and their minds would be think about ways to use her body to bring them satisfaction. And meanwhile, Walter had his hands perfectly placed on the couch, squeezing his hands tighter and tighter against it each time she gave him another kiss.

So really, it was a very strange satisfaction. Because she would feel disgusted to people's touch more often then not, but now, she really wanted him to hold her instead of the couch.

It clearly wasn't enough.

So her lips made their way past his jawline, biting his flesh as soon as she reached his neck. His hands immediately holding her waist and his eyes opening comically wide.

-Vyxaria!

-Should I stop?

They stayed in silence for just a couple of seconds before he leaned his head to the side, leaving his neck open wide to her. The first bit was already tinting red and making her smile to herself, pressing her lips just besides it and sucking his skin. The man under her let the air off his lungs by his mouth, squeezing her waist and pulling her closer, pressing his chest against her and making her smile bigger. She took another bite, then another, then started sucking and sucking his skin. The first bite already turning purple while the number of red spots only grew wider. His voice was already hoarse from all the sighs and pants and suspires he let out since she threw him on that couch. Each noise he let out only made her want more. More of his sweet sighs, more of the pressure of his hands against her waist, more of their bodies pressed against each other.

-You're going to make my entire neck purple.

-That doesn't sound like a complaint.

To that, he only squeezed her waist again. His hands firmly pressed to it, refusing to leave their resting place. Maybe it was time for her to step up again. Running her tongue against the red and purple spots, she gently bit his skin just above his Adam's pome. That made it. He let a soft moan, hugging her and pressing his hands around her back.

The smile on Vyxaria’s face could only be described as a victorious one as she pulled away to fully look at the scene. His neck was adorned in a thousand different shades of pink, red, marron and purple. His fush still high on his face and his head still leaning to the side, his eyes half closed and he was looking at her, ready to give her anything she could ever ask on that moment, even himself.

Vyxaria simply tapped his shoulder and started climbing of his lap, startling the man.

-Time to go grab the rest of my boxes.

Walter blinked once, twice, thrice, visibly shaken by the lack of her closeness. He took almost an entire minute to process what she meant, making she let out a small laugh when he jumped out of the couch.

-Oh rigth, your boxes.

He almost ran away from her apartment while she sat down precisely where he had been. Each time he came back placing the boxes on the ground, he turned red again when looked at her and she only smiled wider with the spots on his neck turning darker and he making no effort at all to try to conceal them.

Three trips to his apartment and back, and now he only had one small package on his hand. Vyxaria got up from the couch, walking towards him with a smile high on her face and grabbing the package from him.

-This was the last one.

-I see.

He watched her lips carefully as she mouthed every single letter. His entire neck was already marked and everyone would be able to see it unless he wore a very high turtleneck, but he didn't seem to mind either way.

-You have a lot of things to set up, obviously. If you need any help, you know where to find me.

She simply nodded, making a motion to close the door. He made such a pathetic sad face that she immediately remembered a video of a sad puppy asking for pets from it's owner that she had seen a while ago on one of those video apps on her phone. She couldn't fight against the small smile on her lips or the strange feeling on her heart, so she simply placed a chaste kiss on his lips, the only type she had never given.

He beamed instantly, a silly smile on his lips as Vyxaria simply rolled her eyes, closing the door as his smile grew wider when he touched his lips with his fingertips.

And when she turned around to look at the boxes on the floor, she knew that now they were both aware that she had no reason to ever be jealous.

[lil-ms-dipst]

Okay seeing as my depression is spiking so hard I can't even find enjoyment in music anymore for the time being, I am going to talk about one of my favourite characters ever Webber from Don't Starve.

I love him (platonically/from a character design standpoint, I aint in romantic love with a child ew) because he is a little ball of light in an otherwise grim situation. Bro got eaten by a spider, lived, got chased out of his own home by his own parents, made a deal with a suspicious lanky man, got sent to a pocket dimension thing, fucking died???, came back to life, and is just. Chilling. I mean yea Webber has his angst examination quotes. "Oh, to feel a sharp edge against my skin," blah blah blah, but he usually sees things from a different perspective?

"Oh I got eaten by a spider and now I am a we. I bet we'd be really good at football now though." Like I am sure you would be.

He even forgave Maxwell, you know, the guy that kinda caused him to end up in the Constant. He even has Wolfgang trying to get over his fear of spiders just to hang out with Webber.

And his duality with Wendy is so good. Wendy, the angst one, the one that is always talking about death, wanting to die, whatever, is best friends with this little ball of sunshine. I bet Webber helps pull Wendy out of the pit of depression she might find herself in. They have tea parties together!!! Wendy's first thought when finding the faux fangs is "Now Webber and I can match!" Like they are best friends for life your honor.

And Webber extends this kindness to everybody else in the Constant. Webber is the one to grab Walter and drag him to safety. Webber is the one to offer Wurt a cookie. Webber thinks about WX and Woodie!! He claims that he sees WX eat gears by the fistful and for the log cake he says "Haha wanna see our Woodie impression?" or something along those lines. He's even willing to help Wagstaff, this random person he's never met that's phasing in and out of existence. Hell if Wilba from Hamlet made it into DST I'm sure he'd extend his kindness to her too. He has been through so much yet still is so joyful. And I love him for that.

Webber's happiness and love for others has even rubbed off on the spider half of him! "We hope everybody liked the presents we got them." Key word: we. If it was just the child speaking, it would be I, if it was just the spider speaking, it would be he. But no, it both. Both of them are hoping the gifts they got for others are good.

Anyway uhh rant over because I have other thoughts about Webber but those are more angst-like and I don't feel like those here.

[appendectomy]

19th century art history dashboard simulator

🎨 jameswh1stler Follow

hey guyssss some new paintings :) kinda focusing more on painting technique than message or symbolism or anything. lmk what u think

📖 ruskin1819 Follow

delete your account FLOP

🎨 jameswh1stler Follow

check your mailbox

📖 ruskin1819 Follow

IS THAT A FUCKING COURT SUMMONS??????

#WHAT THE FUCK...

1.7k notes

🫀 girlhedonism Follow

my beautiful daughters laudanum and chloral hydrate

#opium isnt a drug shes like a brother to me

2 notes

📚 sexytruecrime Follow based on your likes!

started reading conan doyle like you all suggested. anyone else getting a bit of a gay vibe from holmes and watson or is that just me

#penelope reads #serious question like im sensing tension. am i crazy

6.8k notes

🔪 jacktheripper-beatdown Follow

JACK THE RIPPER BEATDOWN - FINAL ROUND

who do you think is the TRUE identity of infamous serial killer jack the ripper? FINAL ROUND - vote now!

🖼️ camdentownmurders Follow

ohhhhh my god i hate all of you. just because sickert made paintings that were MAYBE about murder doesn't actually mean he was a murderer. fiction ≠ reality.

🫀 girlhedonism Follow

i'm voting lewis carroll anyway bc im praying on his downfall. carroll you will never be charles dickens

#polls #SICKERT SWEEP

10.3k notes

🔮 evelyndemorgan Follow

im so clearpilled its insane me and my husband regularly commune with the spirit realm if youre not on the occult wave at this point youre just ignoring the facts right in front of you

#result of an experiment #clearpilled #spiritmaxxing

14 notes

✨ lesbianbasilhallward Follow based on your likes!

my dealer: i've got some straight gas this strain is called 'the picture of dorian gray' you'll be zonked out of your gourd

me: yeah whatever. i don't feel shit

5 minutes later: dude did that painting's face just change to reflect the inner corruption of my mortal soul

my buddy Lord Henry Wotton, pacing: sybil vane is lying to us

#this came to me in a dream #oscar wilde

420 notes

🐑 holmanhunt-art Follow

thinking of displaying this at the royal academy this year. yes or no

📖 ruskin1819 Follow

you're a great painter but why did you make sylvia fucking ugly in this. serious question

🧝🏼‍♀️lizziesiddal Follow

i'm going to blow up this whole website

2.1k notes

🌿 williammorrisandco Follow

i've been getting a lot of asks recently telling me im a fake leftist bc my art is expensive and people are accusing me of catering to a bourgeois sense of materialism... you guys clearly don't care about my involvement in actual socialist causes or my contribution to marxist publications but whatever

👁️ socialism101 Follow

girl didnt friedrich thee engels literally say you were delusional. i think youre just going to have to take the L on this one

🌿 williammorrisandco Follow

at least i actually know engels??? stop replying like you actually know anything about him and focus on yourself. me and him are on good terms

👁️ socialism101 Follow

uh huh sure. so him regarding you as an impractical 'sentimental socialist' means nothing. ok then

#discourse

3.5k notes

👼🏼 williamblake69 Follow

first base philisophical debate about the industrialist scourge destroying england second base i introduce you to the polycule

#is this anything

6.9k notes

[dnalt-d2]

Okay so I'm just gonna go ahead and say what I'm pretty sure a lot of people are thinking

I don't think Fred's dead

Considering how drastically Tubbo decided to just throw a funeral, I feel like there's some other reason for it

Either 1: He's coping and just feels like there's nothing he can do anyway, so he might as well just throw a funeral for his own closure

Or 2: He did find Fred offscreen, and the funeral was to convince everyone ELSE he was dead. Partly because he wants to throw it peoples' faces for making fun of him and Fred's missing status, and partly because he wants the Federation specifically to think he's dead in order to protect him. (Also to protect him from Cellbit probably, because let's be real, dude's lost it and Purgatory didn't help)

Of course there's always option 3, where Fred faked his own death for whatever reason to work behind the scenes, kinda like what Walter Bob's been doing

Or maybe secret option 4: He's just dead. RIPBOZO and whatnot

[xf-cases-solved]

S1E21: Tooms

Case: Guess who's back, back, back! Back again, again, again! Eugene Victor Tooms is back, back, back! Tell a friend! 

Anyway, Tooms is back.

After being rehabilitated and made totally normal and non-cannibalistic by his psychiatrist, the Baltimore court decides that Eugene Victor Tooms is ready to leave the crazy house—where he was serving time for assaulting Scully (he was never charged with eating livers)—and is now free to rejoin society, despite Mulder's attempts to sway the court otherwise, by using his skills as an expert PowerPoint presentation maker. Tooms, of course, has every intention of finishing what he started before being apprehended, so that he can take a nice long hibernation in his bile cocoon, and Mulder has every intention of stopping him before he does. Mulder engages in some mild-to-moderate stalking behaviors; Scully tries not to kill Mulder and then herself out of pure mortification during the world's most uncomfortable slideshow presentation; a retired old cop in a wheelchair returns and makes fewer references to the Holocaust, and is slightly clairvoyant; I have a moment during the episode where I think, "Oh no, shit, wait, I think he does a gross thing here, is this where he—ah man, yep, it sure is," right as Tooms licks his fingers that are covered in roadkill juice; and, most importantly, ASSISTANT DIRECTOR WALTER SKINNER HAS ENTERED THE MFING CHAT!!!!

All rise for that big, bald, beautiful man!

Does someone die in the cold open: Ofc not, Tooms is a fully rehabilitated, mentally sound, non-homicidal freak of nature, who would never hurt a fly, because flies don't have livers. (It's entirely possible I just googled "do flies have livers"...)

Does Mulder present a slideshow: Unfortunately yeah, he does. Kinda wanted to die alongside Scully as he presented his PowerPoint presentation to the courtroom. I'm all for having the strengths of your convictions, babe, but c'mon, even you had to know that wasn't gonna work.

(^ me and scully suffering from immense secondhand embarrassment)

Does the evidence survive the investigation: Actually, yes, I believe it does. They have their findings, and the findings of the retired old cop in a wheelchair (who straight up just. had part of a victim's liver in his apartment? who let him have that?? mulder and scully are out here literally fighting for their lives just to hold onto one shred of evidence, and this hoe just takes biohazardous material with him after his retirement party and holds onto it as a keepsake of his biggest failure as a cop, smh)

Whodunit: Eugene Victor Tooms once again!

Convictions: Escalator did the justice system's work for them.

Did they solve it: I will say yes. The killings have stopped, the perpetrator is dead, they wrote a report with evidence to cite, and even though Skinner is skeptical, Smoking Man tells him he believes their take on things. It's more solved than most of their cases, anyway. WHICH REMINDS ME. There's a bit in the beginning where Scully tells Skinner that their solve rate is at 75%, which is ABOVE BUREAU STANDARDS, like????? Really FBI? The fucking *X-Files division* is doing better than the rest of your departments? And you wonder why people distrust law enforcement, jfc

[how do i determine if a case is solved? check the scale here: x]

THIS EPISODE IS SPONSORED BY: Escalators. Since 1892 [yes I looked it up], escalators have been a godsend for those of us who, for whatever reason, just don't feel like taking the gosh darn stairs. For well over one hundred years, escalators have been a convenient way for you to get around shopping malls, get to and from train platforms, crush your enemies to death with a conveyor belt, get through airports with ease, and so much more! So next time you need to get from one floor of a building or structure to another, or have someone you need to die quickly, consider using an escalator!

***

General Total Stats:

(green means stat has changed since last ep; red means new stat added to list)

Total Cases *Definitively* Solved So Far: 11 (first time they've solved two in a row for a while. must bc they're so high above bureau standards...)

Total Number of "Mulder/Scully, It's Me" Phone Calls: 1

Total Number of Times Scully Has Conveniently Not Seen Something Crucial: 5

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Been in Mortal Danger: 7 (i mean, tooms chased him through the escalator thingy with murderous intent, right?)

Total Number of Times Scully Has Been in Mortal Danger: 8

Total Number of Sexually Charged, Uncomfortably Intimate, and/or Flirty Moments Between Friendly Coworkers: 11 ("mulder, i wouldn't put myself on the line for anybody but you" 🥺 actually that whole little exchange is cute af. mulder's like "don't get in trouble bc of me," and scully is like, "don't tell me what to do, bitch, i love you," and mulder's like, "i don't know how to handle genuine compliments, so i'll just say that if you have iced tea for me i will go down on you right now, no hesitation, forget the stakeout, sit on my face" but then she only has root beer 🙁 or at least that's what i remember happening, i might be paraphrasing)

Total Number of Autopsies Scully Has Performed On Screen: 2

Total Number of Times Scully Plays Doctor: 2

Total Number of Times Mulder Talks to an Informant: 10 

Total Number of Times People Making Out in a Car Are Hurt or Killed: 2

Total Number of Nosebleeds: 4

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Tasted/Sniffed/Touched Something Questionable Without Following Proper Safety Procedures: 2 (but tooms definitely did :( )

Total Number of Times Someone Says "Trust No One": 1 

Total Number of Times Someone Says "I Want to Believe": 3

Total Number of Times Someone Says "The Truth is Out There": 1

Total Number of Cigarettes Cigarette Smoking Man Has Smoked: 6 (lol that stat hasn't gone up since the pilot, and then he shows up in one episode and smokes four of 'em)

Total Number of Maggie Scully Sightings: 1

Total Number of Lone Gunmen Sightings: 1

Total Number of Alex Krycek Sightings: 0 :(

Total Number of Times I Had to Look Up What State the Episode Takes Place in Even Though I Literally Just Watched It: 7½ (i remembered from squeeze, bc sometimes my memory works like how it's supposed to)

Total Number of Times I Had to Look at an Episode's Wikipedia Page to Fill This Out Because It Was Fucking Confusing and/or Too Boring for Me to Pay Attention: 5

[getvalentined]

27, 32 for Veld. 14, 17 for Vincent. 31, 42 for both.

[For the Random Character Asks game.]

27. Their guilty pleasure?

Veld really likes sleeping in. He really likes sleeping in. Especially if he should be doing something he doesn't want to do. He would stay in bed until noon if he could. He can't, of course, because he's Veld and that means he has things to do and places to be and fires to put out—work-based or otherwise—but every now and then, when he's pretty sure he doesn't have too much to do the next day, he'll intentionally turn all his alarms off, put his phone on silent, and wait for something or someone else to wake him before he bothers getting up. He always gets ready in a flash, grumbling about how he's running late and has things to do and so-and-so expected a call at eight, but it is a conscious decision on his part to do it, and he keeps doing it. Most of the people in his life know what's up, but they all play along anyway. Whatever makes him feel better.

32. Something guaranteed to make them smile/laugh?

Veld doesn't overtly express humor very often, but he's super weak to schadenfreude. He'll laugh until he has a stitch in both sides watching people get scared when there isn't actually any danger. Pranks, scarehouses, you know what I mean—that kind of thing cracks him up every time.

14. Most heroic moment?

Vincent's most heroic moment, in my opinion, is when he physically held Omega down to keep it from escaping the planet, and literally cracked it open to make sure the portion of the Lifestream it had stolen came back to ground. He definitely had no idea whether he would actually die on reentry, continue to exist in a perpetual state of atomized pain, or eventually regenerate Minerva knows where—much less whether he would regenerate as himself, physically, or just be stuck in Chaos' shape forever—but he did it. Badass. I love that guy.

17. Quotes, songs, poems, etc. that I associate with them

I have way too many songs I associate with Vincent, although there's a pretty solid sampling in the Nibelheim Doom Triangle playlist.

And here's a handful of my top Vincent songs not included in that playlist:

Little Lion Man — Mumford and Sons — Weep for yourself, my man, you'll never be what is in your heart / Weep, little lion man, you're not as brave as you were at the start / Rate yourself and rake yourself, take all the courage you have left / Waste it on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head

Whatever I Fear — Toad the Wet Sprocket — Did we expect these things to change / By waking up and suddenly there they are? / And all I need's a startin' place / And nothing ever seemed so hard

Factories — Autoheart — I am bride and groom in a darkened room / Marrying anguish with one last wish / Will you and I make a breakthrough? / I have visited factories to see / The best way to put together me / Will you and I ever feel brand new?

Your Biggest Mistake — Ellie Goulding — Wipe the mud spray from your face / Stop the engine, stop pretending / Wipe the mud spray from your face / Stop the engine, yeah, stop pretending / That you're still breathing

All At Sea — Richard Walters — Hold me, fold me up in your arms / Faster, my love, sinking and gone / Hold me, my love / Telling me "Don't be afraid" / "Wouldn't you want me to swim?" / "Wouldn't you want me to stay?"

31. If they had a tumblr what would it look like?

I'm gonna be honest, neither Vincent nor Veld would have social media unless they were somehow forced into it by someone extremely important to them, and then they would never use it. Two empty accounts.

42. Three comfort items?

Veld: A Queen's Blood championship medal that Vincent left behind (along with all his other stuff, they lived together) when he went to Nibelheim, a ponybead bracelet that Felicia made for him at school when she was 6, and his old director's lapel pin from before he left the Turks.

Vincent: Unfortunately Vincent doesn't really have many belongings anymore, so his pool of options is very limited. Postpostcanon, Vincent keeps everyone else's stuff in various safehouses he's put together all over the planet, and at that point his comfort items include the Fenrir ornament from Cloud's pauldron, a string of beads that Nanaki used to wear in his mane, and the crown off the last Cait Sith unit, who shut down roughly one minute after Reeve passed away and couldn't be reactivated.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What do you think of Gus and Gale's relationship?

Personally, I like to think that Gus did have some degree of fondness for Gale, and that was one of the reasons why he was so angry when Walt had Jesse kill Gale.

Oh anon, I don't think they have much of one and we see that more or less in the show. Gale has very little idea what he's getting into and who exactly he's working with and Gus really only speaks to him when necessary.

I don't think any fondness was involved, Gus had other very good reasons to be very upset.

Gus's Perspective on Gale

Gus had hit the jackpot.

He found a PHD level chemist who is familiar with all the equipment he needs, who has a relatively clean record (beyond smoking weed in college and the like I'm sure), who is just an eccentric fellow who wants to do cool chemistry, get paid for it, and dabble in exciting things he shouldn't be doing without feeling any real risk.

Gale lives a quiet life, has no significant other who can talk sense into him/turn him in/turn him in a direction Gus doesn't like, he does his job earnestly and is a rule-abider when it comes to Gus's rules, and Gus will never ever have a problem with Gale.

Gale is exactly the sort of person Gus likes to do business with: clean in every other respect, unnoticed, and completely off the radar.

Gus doesn't care that he's not as good at Walt as making miracle meth, he just needs Gale to be good enough and better than everyone else (and if something unfortunate happened to Walt then that competitor is off the market anyway).

And then there's fucking Walter White.

On the very very very surface level, Walter White also looks like someone Gus would love to do business with. Walt certainly thinks so. Walt previously had a clean record, he's a middle aged white dude no one looks twice at, he is (in Walt's humble opinion) so smart and so much smarter than everyone else, and he makes the best meth around.

Trouble is it takes Gus 0.02 seconds to see that Walter is emotionally unstable, a huge risk taker when it comes to personnel (as at the time Gus takes one look at Jesse and goes "his second in command is an active meth addict???", he has a complex where he absolutely has to be the big man, and if Gus deals with him in any capacity then whatever Gus gains monetarily he'll lose out on by taking on huge amounts of risk.

Not to mention this guy was clearly involved in beef with the Salamancas and Gus wants to take care of those fuckers personally.

Gus decides to give Walt a trial run, but he never wants to deal with him in the long term, this is just to get Gale more cooperative and maybe get Gale up to speed on making meth that's as good as Walt's.

And then Walt fucking kills Gale.

Kills the golden goose that Gus has spent ages finding, that he was lucky to find, and now Gus is stuck with fucking Walt who just proved he'll kill key personnel of Gus's if he's in a panic. Which is why as soon as possible Gus starts looking into Jesse as a replacement for Walt.

The Gale thing was so upsetting for Gus not because it was Gale as a person, but because of what Gale represented to him as far as his business went and the fact that Walter just fucking kills him.

[pap3rcrown]

im thinking about mike walters and why the fuck he views his interations so differently then literally any other character

*disclaimer, im only caught up till episode 89 so around mid season 8, which means i am very far behind and much of this is probably common knowledge or disproven but i want to talk about it anyways !!!!!

i believe it is purely bc he has seen so much more than literally any other character at this point, and because of that he is so different than the other iterations of himself. take michael for example, dude is literally a cowboy. he puts up such a violent front rather than let these two younger iterations of himself see the that he is also a mike. and it's hard for mikey as someone who is so removed from this older grizzled iterations of himself who has experienced losses mikey has not had to go through yet, struggles to connect that michael is him, that he will become him. "you become me, remember that." mikey refuses to make that connection to michael, and even mike on a smaller scale. mike is a much closer to mikey in many aspects but is still disconnected as he has been through things mikey never will due to the corrections, he also is just those 5 years older, which is an entirety in when you have time travel. even the other mikeys which are literally him from the same time period don't connect to him. he fundamentally has different experiences then them, and they don't connect to him for the same reason. overmike didn't have to watch edgar and all of base die, he didn't have to go back and correct that, and mikey didn't watch edgar turn into mustard seed and almost successfully escape base, they have fundamentally different views on that situation.

its also the fact that he is the one who has make variants the most and watches them die the most. he (and all of the mikes) have seen different iterations of themselves with pasts and future they themselves will never see or are just waiting to happen. he has seen michael kill mikeys and he knows what they will do for survival and its almost easier to remove himself from the other mikes as to not spiral. i think frequency of this happening is a huge reason why people like edgar and ann do not have this reaction to other iterations of themself even when they do something different than they would (again i'm more calling back to mustard seed here). edgar can understand why mustard seed did what he did when his back was pressed against the wall, mustard seed is still him, edgar makes his peace with that and knows its him in a way the mikes can't with their iterations as they have seen so much more and things that they cannot explain. ann (as far as i know) works purely in house at base, she doesn't go on field missions, she doesn't have to do the dirty work the mikes do and therefore her iterations do as present her would, there are no experiences besides the passing of time that separate them, she hasn't seen the versions of the future that the mikes have.

mikey unlike the others has also met his iterations on a much more intimate level than literally any other character, he knows how time and experiences will change him, to the point that he no longer recognizes them as himself. he also changes based on his experiences with the latvia mikes as he matures much fast than michael did in his time, he knows where this life will lead him and he wants to prepare himself even if just a little bit. which is why he gets so offended when chance (i cant remember if it was him or shadow im SORRY) says he wouldn't be that sad if he died because there are other iterations of him. chance and the rest of base view the iterations as extensions of themselves, which is something mikey no longer has the luxury to do. as the latvia mikes have proven they have their own agenda. because base has made mike their field agent (still have no idea why they made that choice but whatever.) he has seen so much more then them and see exactly how what he goes through effects them.

its also worth noting that mike just has a personality that is productive to this line of thinking, he is stubborn to a fault, and likes to burry his feelings rather than express them. this leads to these different versions of himself to also have these core tendencies, which breeds distance, i mean just look at michael and mike, they would both rather go to the flinchites then ask each other or base for that matter for help.

all this to say is that i believe if there were to be a thesis to mike walters relationship to his iterations it would be that experiences are what build us and innate personality traits often come second to the instinct to adapt.