#i psyched myself out on this 1 a bit it took until the absolute end to realize it didnt look bad
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🌈Stylized headshot comm for RexAraneo toyhouse✨
[get one yourself via my ko-fi]
#digital art#commission#rexaraneo#rainbow#stylized gore#i psyched myself out on this 1 a bit it took until the absolute end to realize it didnt look bad#a good 2 hours of the drawing process was me pacing around my laptop looking at this like a dog trying to figure out a puzzle feeder
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Hello I saw your tag on that "im 25 and dying post" please tell us how it got better for you. Im 26, still living with parents, currently having a fight with my boyfriend, and i still have a year until I get my bachelors. The comparison to everyone younger than me is killing me.
I'm really sorry to hear that you're struggling, but I hope you can take some solace in the fact that that post has a lot of notes and you are absolutely not alone in feeling the way you do! I can certainly try and share my experience, but unfortunately I think the biggest factor is just time (and like, a buttload of self-reflection).
I moved back home after college and worked full time at an administrative job I was doing during school breaks. I majored in psychology and anthropology in college, and was planning to eventually go into forensic psychology, but wasn't interested in going straight into grad school. So I did that administrative job for about a year, and tried to find something that was a bit more stable and at least semi-related to my field. I did end up finding a new job when I was 23 - stable, semi-related to my field (a psych/research background was required), and decent pay (especially as I was still living at home). Exactly what I needed, since I still wasn't ready to start looking into grad school.
I was doing pretty well, until I started getting comfortable at that job, and then I started getting hit with the "I'm not doing enough," and "I need to look into grad school," and "will I ever find a boyfriend?" (friendly reminder that 23-year-old me thought she was straight, yikes), "how will I afford to move out, I have to save my money and do it soon!", "I'm not doing anything but watching TV, I'm wasting my life," "I'm lonely, but I'm too tired to try and make friends," etc., etc.
But it wasn't constant. I'd have a flurry of those questions and fears, and then days where I was just living life and doing my job and taking care of my dogs, without any of that. And I don't think I felt good or particularly comfortable those days, it was more like I just wasn't actively thinking about it, like when you feel "good" after a physical pain goes away and you're just normal.
Eventually, I started thinking about all of these concerns I had, and the fact that it felt like it was URGENT whenever I thought about them. It felt like I needed to get my shit together immediately. I also started to acknowledge that there was this big sense of guilt around those concerns; I was too old to be living at home, I was too old to be single, I was too old not to be starting a career. I felt like I was wasting my life (cue the guilt), and I realized that part of why I felt like I was wasting it was that I felt like I was missing milestones I wouldn't be able to do at a later time because the older I was past "normal" the more humiliating it would be to try (cue the shame and embarrassment, hard).
I also started to doubt that I wanted to go into forensic psychology. More importantly, I started to seriously doubt that I wanted a "career" at all. My job (as I kept that same semi-related to my field one) was absolutely a job, not a career. And I think this was a huge tipping point for me, because a career had always been a given in my life. I'm passionate about what I'm interested in, so it literally just never occurred to me that I would be content with a job. I also started acknowledging that I had some messed up associations about being content with a job meaning that I was lazy (because the only way to be ambitious is with a career and, more damaging, a lack of ambition is fundamentally bad).
Now, I need to clarify that all of the above occurred over the course of years. I was constantly seeing "friends" (i.e., of the facebook variety) go to grad school, start careers, get married, buy homes, etc. And with all of that alongside the entire mess I've outlined in the above paragraphs, it was really, really, tough. It gets hard to find a foothold in better thinking, I believe, when seeing all of these people (some younger) doing things "right" was really just compounding my guilt and shame. (I feel like it's worth mentioning, too, that I was always "an individual" growing up, march-to-the-beat-of-my-own-drummer, yada yada. I feel like that's worth pointing out for others who may be in the same boat, because I think it can lead to another layer of shame in comparing yourself to those around you - especially if it's a big part of your identity that you DON'T do that, because I think it's inevitable as you get older, and you're looking to reach these milestones that prove you're an adult.)
So, here I am, acknowledging that I feel guilt and shame about what I'm not doing. And suddenly I ask myself my first really important question: Do I want a career? The question hot on its heels is: Do I want to go to grad school? Honestly, my answer is no. There is nothing in me that's excited by the prospect. But what, does that mean I'm just going to work my job for the rest of my life? How is giving up going to make me feel better about Not Doing Enough?
As I'm opening this door (remember, years), three things happen: 1) I realize I'm gay, 2) I watch Dirty 30, 3) I start playing D&D.
First, realizing I'm gay. Woohoo! Not only was this exciting because girls are amazing, but it made me seriously look at myself. Realizing I had spent 25 years assuming one thing about myself that turned out to be completely wrong made me question everything for a while. I started to ask myself, "Do I really like this?" more often, which seems like a really obvious question, but I'm not convinced that it's one people ask themselves consciously all that often. But once I did, I realized how freeing it was to answer, "No," and move on to something I did like.
Second, I watched Dirty 30, the Grace Helbig/Mamrie Hart/Hannah Hart movie. It feels dramatic to say that it changed my life, but the older I get the more I honestly think it did. Mamrie Hart's character is a dental hygienist who is freaking out about turning 30 and feeling very much like that text post I reblogged. But (spoilers), at the end of the movie, she decides that she loves her job (job, not career!) because it's comfortable and she has fun at work, and that it makes her happy. She has other things going on, but the idea that a character in a film is content with her job and choosing to "settle" into her life as-is and she's genuinely happy about it? I honestly can't think of a single other time I've seen that happen on-screen. I still think about that ending very often. And after seeing it, I started to ask myself another question regularly: "Am I happy?" Again, this feels pretty obvious, but I think there is something incredibly empowering about making sure you are happy on a regular basis, instead of just assuming that you're fine until something hurts.
Third, I started playing D&D. This is not a plug for D&D! (Well, maybe a little.) One thing that happened to me when I started to get into the urgent-guilt-shame-confusion mess of my mid-20s was that I got very much into a routine of go to work, come home, sleep, go to work, come home, sleep, be totally brain-dead on the weekend, repeat. I found it very difficult to feel creative because I was just wiped, and as all of my creative outlets (gifs, fanfic) are self-motivated, it was really easy to brush them off. I ended up starting Critical Role (this is also not a plug for CR! well, maybe), and I wanted to give D&D a try myself. (I was VERY lucky - my best friend happened to be listening to the Adventure Zone at the same time I started CR, and she wanted to try to run a game. The stars truly aligned!)
I started playing, then DMing, and found that it was a great fit for my interests. I used to be a theatre kid, and I was getting to act again (something I didn't realize I was missing). I was getting to build and flesh out characters, which is what I love the most about writing fanfic. I was also discovering that I was stretching myself - world building and plot had never been my strong suit, but as a DM it became the majority of my creative effort. It gave me soft deadlines with people I didn't want to let down, and it made me truly social again for the first time since college. Essentially, it was filling in all of the gaps of what I felt lacking in my life. This isn't a D&D plug because it wasn't D&D specifically, but rather a hobby that satisfied what was missing in my life. For example, I didn't realize how isolated I was before D&D until I had regular interactions with friends, and that isolation absolutely made the urgent-guilt-shame-confusion worse.
D&D gave me that final push to realize that I was OK with having a job and being passionate about hobbies instead of trying to fit myself into a career, because I was getting out of that hobby what I had been convinced I would get out of a career. I started to really value that I could punch out and go have fun doing exactly what I wanted to do. (It feels so obvious as I type this, but it took me a long time to get here! Sometimes it really is that simple!)
The above is specific to my job vs. career struggle which may not be in the mix of things you're struggling with. But what I do think is universal/can be your take away, is that sometimes you just have to actively choose to let go of the pressure to be doing things. Which, I know, sounds so much easier than it is (and part of why I think it just takes time/is part of growing older). But I think it's something that can be worked at over time, by checking in with yourself about what you feel, why you feel it, and what you need to make yourself feel better in the present.
It's been 6 years since I started that semi-related job, and I'm still there. I still live with my mom. I'm still single. My circumstances have not changed since 24, but honestly? I'm OK. When I check in with myself about it, I do enjoy living with my mom and our dogs (even though I'm 30 and "real" adults move out). I am happy more often than I'm not (much more, actually!). I have a job that allows me to be done after 8 hours, and I have hobbies I look forward to doing each night (and the energy to do them, most of the time). My weekends are free to play D&D with my friends and laugh until I cry. That is what I've worked out as my definition of what I want life to be right now. You'll notice it includes none of the "milestones" that those younger than me have hit.
As I noted on that text post tag, I still struggle with this. I definitely have days where I think, I'm a mess, I'm not DOING anything. It's hard. But time does help, those days become fewer and farther between.
I know that was probably a hundred times longer than you wanted it to be, but I did want to illustrate just how much of a process it is. It takes time. My summary advice is to check in with yourself often, be honest about what you want and what you need, do not let anyone else define where you "should" be. And if you aren't living life how you want to be, identify what you can do (however small) to make yourself feel like you're getting closer.
#ask#me#personal#i am so sorry this is a novel#i hope that it helps you even a little!#can you believe i can write about myself for 2 hours? embarrassing lmao#long post
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Never-Ending Encore, ch 8
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
Chapter Summary: Yes, this is Gotham City but helping people isn’t a CRIME, Red Hood! Eden’s not afraid of some crazy nutzos! Er, well… Okay, maybe she’s a little afraid of some crazy nutzos, but… But that’s not gonna stop her from helping people when she can!��😤
Warnings: minor swearing, very minor mentions of suic*de and previous suic*dal behavior, very minor mentions of previous abuse, abuse forgiven/excused by victim (which I personally don't care for but this is how Eden currently handles/perceives her trauma so...)
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Eden sat down at the table with a content sigh. The heavenly aroma of homemade garlic bread was more prominent now that the rolls were right in front of her. The scent, mixed with the expectation of company and the eagerness of having some Mad Mountain Fudge chilling in her fridge, made her feel incredibly at-home. Though, to be fair, it was more of a hope for company than an expectation.
Red Hood said he’d try to come this night or the next, but that didn’t necessarily mean he would. Admittedly, Eden's shier half – which vividly recalled Aaron’s earlier, uh… praises toward Red Hood’s… physique – wouldn’t entirely mind waiting a few days to see him. The rest of her was so excited, though, that she had to keep reminding herself it was okay if he didn’t come tonight. It wouldn’t be the end of the world. He was a busy man, after all, saving dumbasses like herself and doing… whatever an ex-mob boss might do to make a place like Gotham better.
Not that any of that stopped her from hoping he would come, of course. Nor would it stop her from being disappointed if he didn’t. Even so, Eden knew she was just one, very small person among a million other very small people in this city. She understood that visiting a random civilian like her, even with the world's greatest fudge in her fridge, couldn't rank very high on Red Hood’s to-do list. Especially in a city like this, filled with a thousand not-so-very-small people — many of whom were quite dangerous.
Still, taking in her surroundings, Eden couldn’t help but smile. She was excited for him to come visit. The entire one-roomed apartment – not just the kitchen space – was clean now. She was back in the habit of making her bed every morning, and— okay, fine, the chair by her closet still held her not-quite-clean clothes, but at least they were folded now! Which was an improvement from the misshapen pile of before!
The once-crowded coffee table had also been improved. Now, it only housed her laptop, headphones, and one book (and notebook) at a time. The rest of her books and notebooks – aside from the pair she kept on the kitchen table – had a new home, piled neatly along the wall dividing the kitchen from the main living/sleeping space. They still needed a proper shelf, but the current setup worked for now.
Two plants with tall, twisting stems stood guard on either side of her slow-growing book collection, while a small, mismatched assortment of baby foliage in tiny, colorful pots sat along the edge of her kitchen table near the window. It wasn’t anything compared to rows and rows of crops back on the farm, nor the nearby woods she dearly missed walking through, but it still felt good to be around some greenery again.
Biting into a roll, Eden continued penning ideas into the notebook she kept on the kitchen table; new ways to make her place even homier, things that needed her attention, different possibilities to look into. Though it was the mortifying thought of Red Hood coming back to her apartment in its previous state that had spurred her into action, Eden now found herself genuinely starting to enjoy the little space.
Now that she was putting in the effort, her apartment was actually starting to feel… pleasant. Welcoming, even. And even though her neighbors were still ridiculously loud at times, Eden was finding herself happy with her little home. Enjoying the fruits of her labor whenever she paused to take it in... It was a very nice feeling.
Eden suddenly stopped writing. Her heart leapt in excitement as she looked to the far window, the one that led to the fire escape. It could be nothing, but she could’ve sworn she’d heard— The soft tapping repeated itself.
Scrambling up from the table, Eden flew to the window – nearly slipping in her socks – and beamed at the sight of Red Hood on the other side. He greeted her with a short wave of his hand.
“Hi there, Mr. Hood!” she greeted the moment she had the window open. “It’s so nice to see you again! How are you? Your fudge is almost ready, but it needs another couple of minutes or so to finish chilling. I hope that’s alright? I remembered you said you might stop by tonight, but I didn’t think it would be until later on so I— oh! Where are my manners?” She moved out of the way, her cheeks warming. “Won’t you come in?”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
Eden smiled as he deftly climbed inside, pleased to find she could still easily recognize Red Hood’s humored tone.
“Smells good in here,” he said turning toward the kitchen.
She quirked a brow, glancing at his helmet. “You can smell with that thing on?”
“It has an automatic filtration system." He lifted his chin, apparently quite proud of it. "Keeps Fear Gas out, lets good-smelling food in.”
"Really?” She hummed, making a show of looking over his helmet. “It doesn’t look all that fancy to me, Mr. Hood."
He scoffed. “It’s a lot more high-tech than it looks, Cookie Girl.”
“Oh, yeah?” She turned up her nose, grinning, as she led him toward the kitchen table. “What kind of high-tech stuff does it have, then, hotshot?”
“All kinds,” he said unabashedly, not afraid to meet her teasing head-on. “There’s the obvious, like night vision, thermal imaging, incendiary devices, and high-frequency—”
“Hold on, wait.” She turned the words over in her head. “Incendiary devices? Isn’t that just fancy talk for bombs?"
“It might be,” he said confidently.
"You have a bomb in your helmet?" She made a humored face. “That doesn’t sound very high-tech, Mr. Hood. Or obvious.”
He hummed, leaning forward slightly, resting his hands on his hips. “You don’t believe me?” Eden could imagine him grinning at her.
She crossed her arms playfully. “No way. You’re just trying to get a rise out of me. There’s no way you have an actual bomb that close to your head. You’re not that crazy, Mr. Hood.”
He made an amused sound, tilting his head to one side.
Eden opened her mouth, then shut it. She looked him up and down, faltering. “Are… Are you? Mr. Hood, do you really have— Are you— Please tell me you’re joking. That’s— Do you?”
“Relax, Ede.” He said it comfortably, as if he called her that all the time. Eden blinked, trying to remember if he’d ever called her that before — or anything other than Cookie Girl. “It’s just for absolutely fucked situations where I don’t have any other options.”
Her eyes widened. “Wait— You don’t mean— You don’t mean—” She jabbed at her temples frantically, trying to sputter something out.
Red Hood watched her struggle until what she was trying to say finally clicked.
He jerked forward, his hands up. “Shit, not like that! It’s an escape thing, not a kill myself thing,” he explained. “I take it off and throw it like a grenade.”
“Oh. Cool. Okay. A grenade. That’s cool.”
“Breathe, Cookie Girl," he reminded her.
“I’m breathing! Totally breathing!” She took a huge breath for good measure. Then another. “Sorry, I just—” She shook her head, plopping into her seat. She looked at him, then, in realization, jolted right back up again. “Oh, sorry! Please,” she gestured to the spare chair in front of him, “have a seat.”
“I’m alright.” Red Hood leaned onto its back, watching her sit down again. Her face was red hot. “You okay?”
“Yes, fine, thank you.” She took a few slow breaths, her brows pulled together with worry. “Do you… end up in situations like that a lot? Where you have to blow up your helmet to get away?”
Just a few nights ago, there’d been an explosion on the Westward Bridge. One of her coworkers said a friend spotted Red Hood escaping the scene afterwards. Eden, becoming more accustomed to Gotham’s shenanigans than she cared to admit, hadn’t worried about him too much when she’d heard. In fact, oddly enough, she’d felt a bit proud. But maybe she shouldn’t have.
Maybe she was wrong to have assumed he was okay. Maybe he’d been in serious trouble. Maybe he’d needed help. Maybe she should’ve done something. Maybe she should’ve—
“Not really,” Red Hood answered, breaking her dizzying thoughts with a casual shrug. “It’s the last of my last resorts, and it’s pretty rare for me to be so off my game.”
“Oh. Oh, good. That's...” She sighed in relief, then smiled up at him. “I’m glad to hear it, Mr. Hood.”
Of course. What in the world was she thinking? Red Hood wasn’t some small-time, stumbling wannabe. Unlike her pitiful attempts at playing hero, he actually knew what he was doing. If she ever showed up to one of his firefights, she’d probably just end up causing him trouble and end up staggering home with a plethora of healing bullet holes and another encore under her belt. (Maybe two, if she was particularly unlucky.)
Red Hood pulled out his chair and turned it so that its back was nearly up against the wall beside them. When he sat down, angled the way he was, he had a clear line of sight of the entire apartment.
The move was familiar to Eden, but it surprised her to see it done so precisely and naturally. The only other person she’d seen do that – and do it like that – was Mama.
Mama always had to have an eye on her surroundings, so she rarely took a seat without her back against a wall or being tucked in a corner. The habit was one of many from her life before "Louanne Smith". They were so far ingrained into her psyche that if she ever tried to go against them the struggle was obvious to even the blindest fool. Though she feigned ignorance at having ever lived such a life, it had obviously taught her all the skills she now used to keep their “cousins” safe: how to observe and analyze even the smallest detail, how to fight and defend unflinchingly, how to disappear without a trace, how to… make other people disappear.
It made Eden curious to see Red Hood with a habit like that. On the bright side, it probably meant she didn’t have to worry about him the way she had been. If he was even half as capable as Mama was, chances were he could handle just about anything thrown at him — even in a place like Gotham.
But… on the not-so-bright side, she had to wonder...
Red Hood tilted his head slowly. “What?”
“Hm?” Eden blinked and realized she been staring. “Oh, sorry! I was just remembering my, uh… um… well, it doesn’t really matter, I guess. I just got lost in thought. Sorry.”
“You don’t have to keep apologizing.”
“Right, sor— I mean, uh, thank you. I guess.” Cheeks warm, she glanced around quickly for something else to talk about. “Um, would you like some garlic rolls, Mr. Hood?” She picked up the plate and offered it to him. “They’re stuffed with cheese.”
He leaned closer to the food, inhaling it. “So that’s what smells so good.”
She smiled. “Try some!”
He started to grab one when his head turned toward the kitchen. He looked into it a moment then lowered his hand, sat back, and said, “On second thought, I’m okay.”
Eden lowered the plate slightly, surprised. She glanced into her kitchen, wondering what he’d seen to change his mind. The space was perfectly clean and tidy, as she always kept it. The only thing “out of place” was the baking sheet cooling on her stovetop. Any other dishes were already drying in the sink wrack.
“Are you sure? I really don’t mind… I’m happy to share.”
“I’m not interested in stealing your dinner. Besides,” he added in a lighter tone, “I need to save room for the fudge.”
Eden nodded slowly and set the plate down. Glancing toward the kitchen again, she wondered what had tipped him off that the rolls were her meal for the night. The empty baking sheet? The drying dishes?
Always have more than you think you’ll need, she remembered. That was a tried-and-true rule on the farm. They never knew when they were going to have company, so there was always more of things than Eden’s family could ever go through on their own — more blankets, more clothes, more toiletries, more food. Especially food. If there were seven people in the house, they made enough food for ten, and those extra servings came in handy more often than not.
“Can I get you something to drink, then, Mr. Hood?” she asked, picked up her pen and writing the old rule into her notebook. “I have sweet tea, orange juice… uh, water…” She paused, thinking. “Milk?”
He snorted. “I’m good.”
She quirked an impish brow. “Does your fancy, high-tech helmet even have a way for you to drink things? Some built-in twisty-straw component or something?”
He shook his head, edging forward. “Nope. Sorry. No twisty-straws.”
“Your helmet can be an emergency grenade, but it has no cool twisty-straw thingy?” She tsk-tsked, trading her pen for a roll. “I’m disappointed, Mr. Hood. It’s like you’re not even trying to impress me.”
He chuckled. “I’ll get right on that, Cookie Girl,” he assured, a smirk-like quality to his voice.
Eden shook her head at him, trying to hide her grin behind the roll.
He nodded to the notebook in front of her. “What are you working on?”
“Oh, just some ideas.” She pushed it toward him, inviting him to look. “I haven’t been treating this place right,” she explained, pulling apart the roll. “Acting like it’s a prison when it’s a home in need of as much tender loving care as any other.”
Red Hood hummed, going over her lists. “Hard to make a home in a neighborhood like this,” he muttered.
“Doesn’t mean I need to let it sit and rot like I was. It’s nice to have a place you’re at least a little proud of.”
He gave a half-shrug and nodded.
He flipped to a previous page in the notebook, glancing up to see if she minded. Eden shrugged, knowing most of the pages were haphazardly filled with everyday nonsense that likely wouldn’t mean much to him. He looked them over while she ate and she looked over him, a little embarrassed when he started reading out random thoughts.
“‘Mary: Superfluous, plain but extra, well-meaning but unaware’?”
“Uh, that’s a… That’s a thing for work.”
“What do you do for work? Evaluate assholes?”
She laughed. “No, no, I’m a…" She fixed her posture, feeling a bit proud. "I’m an actress, actually."
“A professional liar? Great.”
“Wha—? No! Lying and acting are two very different skill sets, Mr. Hood!”
“Uh-huh. Sure, Cookie Girl. Whatever you say.”
“No really! I’ll have you know I’m an awful liar but a really great— er, uh, well, okay, maybe not a really great actor— I mean, maybe not a great actor either, but, you know, I— Well, actually—”
He snickered, then moved on to the next blurb he could tease her with.
“Are all your notebooks filled like this?” he eventually asked, glancing at her collection against the wall.
She gave a half-shrug as she finished the last roll. “Some are more coherent. This one’s mostly for stuff that pops in my head while I’m eating or in the kitchen. It’s easier to have my thoughts written down where I can see them instead of fighting through them all in my head.”
“Makes sense.” He leaned forward brazenly. “Am I in any of those thoughts?”
“Not any of the written down ones,” she said with a laugh, assuming that was the real question. “I’m not that dumb, Mr. Hood.”
“Good to know,” he said with a nod. “Speaking of dumb, though…” He leaned back in his chair and fished out a cell phone from inside his leather jacket. “I was wondering if you could help me connect some dots here.”
“Me? I don’t know what you could possibly need my help sorting out, Mr. Hood," aside from an urgent, impromptu lesson on goat milking perhaps, "but I’ll certainly try.”
“Oh, you can help a lot more than you think, Edie.” Red Hood set the phone down on the table and pushed it toward her.
Eden blinked again at his sudden use of one of her everyday nicknames, suddenly nervous. She looked down at the phone, at the picture on its screen, and her brows lifted in surprise. She immediately recognized the sleek, minimalist decor of Café Très Boissons and the slightly hunched, unassuming man who’d been taking her picture earlier that day. But more than that, she recognized the angle the picture had been taken from.
Turning to Red Hood, wide-eyed, she faintly recalled the faces of the boys in the corner booth. The younger two were obviously out of the running, but between the smiling one and the one in the red hoodie… It wasn’t exactly a hard leap to make.
“Wait, were you the guy—?”
“I have contacts all over this city,” he told her. “They keep me informed.”
Eden’s brow furrowed. She worked her mouth to say something, not really sure she believed him, but he leaned over the table and swiped the screen to the right, moving the conversation forward before she could. The new picture was taken closer to the scout and clearer than the first, better showing his face and overall frame.
“So imagine my surprise,” Red Hood went on, “when I learn a small-time heiress has a look-alike who can clock up a potential threat in a heartbeat, and it turns out that look-alike—” he swiped right again, this time to a grainy, blown-up picture of Eden, Veronica, and Aaron crossing the street “—is you.”
Eden stared at the picture: she and Veronica arm-in-arm, Veronica’s purse over her shoulder, a flippant expression on her face that didn’t seem to fit quite right. The picture was from an entirely different viewpoint, somewhere up in the air looking down on them, and of a far poorer quality than the first two.
“Security camera?” she guessed glancing up at him. His permeating stare was hard to meet through the angry “eyes” of his helmet.
“Traffic cam.”
Eden sank a little lower. “You’re making me feel like I’m in trouble here, Mr. Hood,” she mumbled.
“Aren’t you?” he accused. “You’ve practically got a flashing neon sign on your forehead that says In Deep Shit.”
“No, I—!” She huffed and moved some hair out of her face. “I do not. I meant trouble like a kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar.”
“Funny.” He moved to rest his jaw on his fist. “I didn’t.”
Eden lowered her gaze, unable to meet the unbreakable scrutiny of his “eyes”. “I’m not in any trouble,” she muttered, rubbing her socked feet together under the table. “Not like that, anyway. I’m fine.”
“Uh-huh. Sure. Y’know,” he half-teased, “I think I’m starting to understand what you meant about being able to lie and being able to act.”
She struggled with a response to that. “What… What even makes you think I’m in that kind of trouble anyhow?”
“You want the short list or the long?”
She stared at him. His certainty was unshakable.
There’s no way it was that obvious she was in trouble… But it wasn’t deep trouble like he seemed to think. Just… ankle-deep trouble. That she was slowly sinking in. No big deal.
Besides, it wasn’t any of his business. Her “trouble” was just between her and her parents. And her siblings, sort of. And… probably the people Frank worked with... and for… But, like, at its core, it was mostly just her and her parents.
“It’s nothing big,” she promised. “Nothing vigilante worthy, anyway.”
Red Hood tilted his head, silently encouraging her to continue regardless.
“It’s just… family stuff.”
Just a looming fight between divorced parents; their adult child stuck in the middle and trying to put out the fire before it sparked. A totally normal thing for a totally normal "family".
Only, like… kicked up to a ten because Eden was a metahuman, her father was a superhero-obsessed farmer-turned-geneticist who basically stole samples of her DNA, and her mother was not afraid to get her hands dirty. Especially if she perceived something as a threat to her daughter’s well-being — which Frank’s recent work and actions could definitely be perceived as.
Plus, everyone in that facility seemed to know about her powers. Mama would not like that. That Eden regretted helping them – that she’d tried to rescind her consent, been denied, and her DNA taken anyway – just made the whole thing even messier.
The only way to hide any of it from her mother was to literally take the money Frank gave her for her "donation", run off, and hide away while she tried to string everything together. Because once Mama knew, Frank was a dead man. Unless Eden could figure out some way to cushion the information and keep her from digging deeper, there was no doubt in her mind that Mama would wipe every last trace of him – and his colleagues – off the face of the earth.
And Eden… Eden didn’t want that.
Despite everything he’d done and put her through, despite all the hurt and tears, part of her still thought of Frank as her father. As the man who read her stories every night and taught her to ride a bike and a horse. The one who called her “Champ” and always carried her up on his shoulders when they went into town. Who told her she was meant for great things, encouraged her compassion, always put her back on her feet… told her he loved her every morning and every night when she was young…
They were both older now, and him colder. He’d abused her trust and love in pursuit of his own goals. Again. This time with intent. But he was still the man who, above all else, wanted to help others. Eden knew that. He just… didn’t seem to mind hurting her in the process. And a part of her hated him for it, but she still loved him, too. She couldn't stand the thought of him getting hurt, or worse.
Which, you know, with her mama a hairpin trigger away from… removing him… sorta left Eden caught between a rock and a hard place. But, again, that wasn’t any of Red Hood’s business.
“It’s not that big a deal,” she stressed. “And anyway, Veronica’s the one with the scout right now, not me.” She swiped back to the picture of the man in the suit and pointed to him firmly. “He cared about getting her picture, not mine. Even if he mixed us up, it still means she’s the one in real trouble here.”
Red Hood hummed. The disharmony was hard to interpret, but she was willing to bet he was neither fooled by nor satisfied with her answer.
“What?” she shot back, crossing her arms, acting defensive to force the conversation forward. “It’s not my fault he confused me for Veronica.”
“No, but you wanted to keep him confused. In fact,” he reached over and swiped back to the traffic cam picture, “you did everything you could to make sure he thought he had the right girl.”
Eden lifted her chin, waiting for the real question. Red Hood studied her, possibly waiting to see if she’d answer it herself. Maybe blubber out something as she was wont to do. But she was determined to keep her mouth shut this time.
She tipped her head, politely prompting him to continue. When he didn’t, she huffed.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Hood,” she said rubbing her forehead, “but I really don’t know what you’re trying to ask me here. I’m not a mind reader.”
He stayed quiet for a few more beats. His consideration shifted from her to the picture on his phone. “For now, I guess my biggest questions are why and how.”
Eden sat up a little. “Why?” she repeated, not sure she understood.
“Yeah. According to my source,” he said slowly, “you two,” he nodded toward her and Aaron in the picture, “figured out the scout was there for Veronica before she’d even entered the building and that he’d mixed the two of you up.”
“Right,” she agreed cautiously. “And?”
“And?” He gestured in front of him as though he’d clearly laid everything out on the table itself. “Didn’t it occur to you that if he saw the real Veronica, the scout would’ve pieced it all together and left you alone?”
Had that occurred to her? She couldn’t remember. Probably not.
But even if it had, Eden wouldn’t have wanted him to leave her alone if it meant throwing Veronica under the bus like that. Eden at least knew how she was supposed to act in that kind of situation, which was more than Veronica could probably say. And besides, no matter what might’ve happened, she would’ve been fine in the end. Veronica didn’t have that guarantee. Nobody did. Except Eden.
“It was better for him to bother me than her,” she said firmly. “At the very least it threw them off her scent for a bit. Hopefully, she can get some sort of security team or something before they get too wise.”
“They?”
“Whoever wanted those pictures in the first place,” she explained. “I seriously doubt that scout was taking them for his own sake, or he would’ve left the moment “Veronica” started noticing him.” She tilted her head at Red Hood and gave him a wicked smile. “Or did your source not mention that part of my theory?”
“He did,” he said simply. “All the more reason to want to stick your head in the sand, though, don’t you think? It’s what anyone else would’ve done.”
She frowned, finally realizing what he was saying. “You Gothamites are so weird. I’d have thought a vigilante would at least understand..."
“Uh, rude?”
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be, but… It’s just I think I figured out what you’re really asking me, and Aaron and Veronica asked me the same thing earlier, too, and it’s just…" She shook her head, finding it hard to wrap her brain around. "Y’all…” She huffed. “Y’all’re just so weird to me.”
Red Hood didn’t say anything.
“Sorry,” she said again, more genuinely. “But you’re asking me why I helped her, right? Even if it wasn’t… oh, how did Veronica say it?” She turned her head, trying to remember. “Wasn’t my problem, I think? Something like that…” She refocused on him. “Anyway, my answer to you is the same as it was for them: because it was the right thing to do.”
Red Hood made a short, unamused noise. “The right thing was pretending to be that girl? Putting yourself in danger?"
“The right thing was helping her,” she corrected. “And that scout had already taken my picture anyway, so…” She swiped between the pictures. “At least I stopped him from taking the real Veronica’s picture, too.”
“But now he’s got your picture.” He sat back and crossed his arms. “Which means his employer’s going to have your picture. If they don’t already.”
“Which they probably do, since he was using a cell phone," she pointed out.
He threw his hands in the air. “Exactly! And he could be some sick, psycho fuck!"
"Well—"
"This is Gotham, Ede," he went on, imploring her to listen. "Even if they know you're not Veronica, they'll know you tried to fuck with their plans for her, whatever they are. People get themselves killed for way less here. You know that, right?”
“No, I... I guess I hadn’t really…”
So that was why a lot of Gothamites didn’t go out of their way to help others! Of course! There was no guarantee offering their hand to one person wouldn't put a huge target on their back with another. And nobody in their right mind would want to risk gaining the attention of one of Gotham’s scarier characters. It all made perfect sense now. Gothamites kept their heads down and only focused on their own problems because they had to. If they didn't, they could very well be signing their life away. And when people asked her why she was helping others, they weren't really asking her that; they were asking her why she was so willing to put her own life in danger for someone else.
But Eden wasn't like them. No matter what happened or what anyone did to her, she would be fine. She was always fine. It didn’t mean she had to throw on a cape and go looking for trouble every day like Frank had wanted her to, but it also meant she didn’t have the same excuse as everyone else. If she could step in and help somebody, she should. She was one of the few in this town who probably could. And, most importantly, she wanted to.
“I still would’ve helped her,” she decided. “Even if someone scary thinks I’m her for a little while, or gets mad at me, at least Veronica is safe for now.”
Red Hood stared at her, unmoving. It wasn’t clear what he was thinking or feeling, but Eden could imagine he might not like what he was hearing. After all, as far as he knew, Eden was just a totally normal, would-die-and-stay-dead civilian.
“I mean, if they have any brain cells at all, they should realize pretty quickly “Veronica” doesn’t look like she should, right?” she said trying to reassure him. “And even if they don’t, all they have to do is follow me home once and they’ll realize they’ve got the wrong girl.” She pointed out the window. “Even a total rock-for-brains moron would start scratching their head if Veronica Bradford came to a neighborhood like this.”
He followed her finger, seeming to consider her words. “Maybe,” he acknowledged. “But they’d probably just say fuck it and stick around anyway. Especially if it was some goon following orders.”
Eden bobbed her head from side to side, agreeing with the possibility. “They’d still figure it out eventually, though. Veronica’s a socialite. And I’m definitely not. Eventually, she’d post a Snapstagram story or go somewhere fancy while I’m hanging about here and things wouldn’t add up. And if they were still convinced I’m Veronica after something like that, then I don’t think they’re smart enough to be considered much of a threat to anybody but themselves.”
“Everybody is a threat in this city,” he warned her. “And the last thing you want is some twisted mother fucker knowing where you live. Especially if they think you messed with them.”
“I’d rather someone like that know where I live and make my life difficult than let someone else get hurt or killed because I didn’t help them,” she said stubbornly.
Red Hood let out a gruff, half-groaning sound as he sat back to stare up at the ceiling. "Of course you would," he grumbled. He stayed like that for a minute, perhaps trying to gauge how serious she was. He sighed, apparently finding his answer. "I don't get you. You freak out when a stranger shows up to warn you inside, but the idea of some asshole coming here and actually trying to fuck with you? That doesn't scare you?"
"In my defense, this is the ninth floor and it was my private fire escape. I had every right to freak out when some big stranger with guns and a mean-faced helmet suddenly showed up out of nowhere."
He huffed.
"And I'm not completely helpless, Mr. Hood," she told him. "I have a little fighting know-how under my belt."
"Uh-huh, yeah, sure. And how's your neck, again?"
"My...?" She blinked at him, then remembered the healed cut and frowned. "Hey, I'll have you know I was doing very well for myself until I got stabbed!" she said pointing at him.
He looked up again, this time as if asking a higher power for help. “So if someone broke in here with a gun or another knife, you think you'd be able to fight them off?"
“I'd be fine."
"So you do think you could."
"Not really, no."
He stared at her. “Y'know... a little lie might be nice right about now.”
"I could 100% fight them off no problem, Mr. Hood."
He groaned, covering his eyes. "God, you are an awful liar."
Eden tried very hard to suppress her giggles. “If it makes you feel any better," she offered, "I wasn’t planning on it. Pretending to be Veronica, I mean."
Red Hood sighed, but he lowered his hand and gave her his attention anyway.
"Veronica’s not very… Well, let’s say she’s not the most observant person around. And I know my foresight’s not exactly great in the heat of the moment, and I might end up paying for it eventually, but… I couldn’t just... not do something when that scout noticed her, you know? She needed someone to help her and she didn't even know it. So I just… did.”
Red Hood let out a sharp laugh, which sounded sharper with the distortion. He looked away, subtly shaking his head. “So you just did,” he muttered to himself. He turned to her again. “Didn’t you agree not to do anything stupid before I came by again, Cookie Girl?” he teased.
Eden smiled apologetically, then turned coy. “I did try, Mr. Hood,” she said sweetly. “And I promise that that was the stupidest of the stupid things I did. Which I’m willing to bet is still a million times better than the craziest thing you’ve done since the last time I saw you.”
He put a hand on his chest. “Who me? Do something crazy? Never.”
“Uh-huh. You sure about that? Because I’m pretty sure I heard someone say something about a red vigilante being involved with that big explosion Friday night.”
“Nope. Wasn’t me. Must’ve been Red Robin. I’m completely innocent.”
Eden nodded along, not admitting she only knew of the other vigilante because she’d thought Red Robin was just another of Red Hood’s names until somebody corrected her.
“Oh, completely innocent, I’m sure,” she goaded. “And what was it that you were doing oh-so-innocently while the bridge was blowing sky high, Mr. Hood?”
“Hey, the bridge is still standing, isn’t it? He made sure there wouldn’t be any structural damage. Just a little mess of things. He knows what he’s doing with shit like that.”
“Uh-huh. Yeah. I sure hope he does. Especially if he also has a helmet full of explosives.”
“Not to worry, Ede," he assured her. "I’m the crazy Red.”
“Oh. Good. I feel so much better now. Thanks."
He laughed.
“Wait.” She pointed at him. “Do you both go by Red?”
“We do," he nodded, "but Double R’s usually Red if we’re using shorthand,” he said crossing his arms. “They call me Hood to keep it simple.”
“Oh, well, that’s not confusing at all. Though I suppose y’all can’t exactly call him Robin. That’d be even more confusing.”
Red Hood scoffed. “Demon Spawn would have an absolute fit if we did that.” He looked to the side. “Then again…” He rubbed his chin, seeming to consider it.
“Um,” Eden lifted a tentative finger to catch his attention. “I’m sorry, but this is Gotham City, so I’m gonna need you to clarify: do you mean, like… a real demon spawn or…?”
“I mean I think he is,” Red Hood joked, “but, no, not really. That’s just what I call Robin ‘cause he’s a little shit.”
She perked up. “You mean Robin like… Batman's Robin?” He nodded and Eden scoffed with certainty. “Well, he can’t be that bad, then.”
Red Hood let out a short, sharp laugh. Something about it a bit painful. “Are you an expert on Robins now, Ede?”
“Well… no,” she mumbled, a little embarrassed. “But if he’s a Robin then… I dunno. He can’t be all that bad.”
“Have you ever met the brat?”
Eden shook her head slowly, fighting the urge to scowl.
No, she hadn’t met the boy Red Hood was talking about… But she’d met one of his predecessors. And that Robin? He’d saved her life. Not just from a fight or another encore. She could handle those things on her own. Poorly, sure. But she could.
No, what he’d saved her from was a life full of fights and encores. And pain. Endless, endless cycles of pain.
Without him, who knows where she’d be today. Who she’d be. Certainly not the person she was. Not the civilian trying to make the best of an awful situation by following her theatrical dreams. If he hadn’t knocked some sense into her, she would probably be what Frank wanted her to be. A… A hero. A constantly struggling, hurting, dying, pitiful attempt of a superhero.
Robin saved her from that. From a life of wishing every day, every death, would be her last.
As far as she was concerned, she owed that boy every good goddamn thing in her life. So to hear Red Hood call her hero a brat or a demon spawn, even if it was a completely different boy, even if Red Hood obviously knew him a thousand times better than Eden knew the one she’d met… Well, it upset her. In her heart, “Robin” was still the boy from her childhood.
Though, even she could admit it was hard to remember him clearly after so many years. She could remember the way he’d spoken to her and how it had impacted her, but not most of what he’d actually said. She could remember him joking and laughing with her, but not the way it sounded. She could remember the way he’d smiled and offered his hand before lifting her up into the air, but the scene was fuzzy.
“Sorry,” Red Hood grumbled, rubbing the jawline of his helmet. “I guess you’re more of a Gothamite than we thought.”
“Huh?” She squinted at him, confused. “No, I’m not. What do you mean?”
“Well...” He leaned back, spreading out slightly. “People these days tend to be pretty protective of their Robins. Even when this one first started out and was swinging his sword everywhere—”
“This one’s got a sword?” she blurted out, shocked.
“Yeah, a katana. He hacked up a couple of goons pretty good with it, too. Which I thought was great,” he said gesturing to himself, “but B didn’t.”
“B? As in… Batman?” she whispered.
He snorted at her. “He’s not the boogeyman, Ede. He’s not gonna jump out of your closet if you say his name too loud." Despite saying this, he was clearly doing a quick survey of her apartment.
“Wow. I feel so reassured,” she droned. “Anyway, no, I should be the one apologizing. You clearly know this Robin well, so if you think he’s a—” her mouth twitched slightly “—a brat then... you… probably have your reasons for it. I suppose. And I should... respect that,” she half-snarled.
Red Hood clapped slowly. “Wow. What a beautiful performance, Edie. How’s it feel to be such a great actor?”
“Oh—” she reached over the table and shoved him “—shut it, you!”
He just laughed her off.
“You better start being nice to me, Hood," she said standing and moving toward the fridge.
“Or what?” he asked confidently.
She grinned at him. “Or you’re not getting any Mad Mountain Fudge,” she teased right back.
---
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#jason todd#red hood#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd x oc#red hood x reader#red hood fanfiction#jason todd fluff#red hood fluff#silly#fluff#Never-Ending Encore#chapter 8#oc: Eden Smith#red hood x oc#cross posted on ao3
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Wings Talks Manga: A Year in Review, Part 1 (Completed stories)
Last year, I told myself I was going to actually really more manga and watch more anime, because despite it being my main style I hadn’t actually read much in awhile. And I actually managed to get a lot done for one year. So below is a list of stories I read/watched and a few quick thoughts on them. Despite having my list open, I’m still probably not going to get to all of them, but I can try.
Be warned for spoilers.
T.egami Bachi (manga)
I love. Anyone following this tag of mine knows this has been a long journey and that I loved every minute of it. The world is beautiful, the characters are great, the emotions run high...it’s incredibly cathartic and engaging. I will never stop lauding it.
Jiu Jiu (manga)
A short series I picked up from the library that I never really covered, but that I enjoyed. Sometimes it felt a little slow to work through, but it was cute and I got really attached to the characters over five volumes. Like the mangaka, I wish there had been more opportunity to delve deeper into some of the story elements, because especially near the end it got confusing. Also I’m assuming it ended in a poly relationship? The protag grows up and has babies but you can’t really tell which love interest is the father, if either are. They’re all together in the final picture and I support it but it also bugs me bc I am confused.
Dreamin’ Sun (manga)
Mixed feelings on this one. I honestly expected a modern fantasy involving a baku going into this based on the back cover. I was wrong. I was really cute, if not overwhelmingly emotionally frustrating/full of secondhand embarassment at some points. The characters are super well-developed and continue to evolve and grow through the series. I will forever complain about the protag falling in love and centering her life around an adult man, but there were also some very touching elements that I can’t help but remember fondly.
The Wize Wize Beasts of the the Wizarding Wizdoms (manga)
The first of a lot of BL I read this year, which is honestly very new to me. My introduction to Nagabe. I’ve mentioned there’s one story I’m not too fond of, but it could be my interpretation of it. Overall very much loved it and especially love the art style.
K.amisama Kiss (manga)
I series I kind of picked up on a whim and absolutely fell in love with. Cute, funny, touching, well-thought out. There were some elements I didn’t understand (like the end), but my enjoyment overall made up for it. The one thing I wish for was a little more development for some of the minor characters. Also I love Mizuki and his development throughout the series. He makes me emotional.
Our Dining Table (manga)
Another cute, simple love story about two guys making food. I don’t have a whole lot to say about this other than it’s cute and you should read it. Although I obviously have no issues with teenage protags, it was refreshing to have a love story about two working adults that didn’t have to involve sex. Also can totally understand one guy’s aversion to eating with others, even if my own isn’t as severe.
Love on the Other Side (manga)
More Nagabe. Really, really cute. I love the story with the bird (of course). The softness of the stories and Nagabe’s art style really have stolen my heart.
B.lack Butler: Book of Circus (anime)
We all know why I watched this. Sadly the ending is as gruesome as the manga, and the one or two scenes they added didn’t play well on the DVD. But still a delight (up until the end).
The Devil is a Part-Timer (anime)
Interesting. Funny. A good world base, but I feel they could have developed it a little more, and the last episode kind of soured it a little for me because there was no really wrap-up. But I liked the characters and had a lot of fun watching it while crocheting. Wish there was a season two.
The Bride was a Boy (manga)
A brief autobiographical manga about a trans woman, filled with lots of tidbits about transgender individuals and things like HRT. Short, sweet, cute, and full of love and joy. Again, not much to say other than I recommend it.
Fractale (anime)
A lot to process. I think I would need to watch it again to fully wrap my head around it, if not more than once. An interesting world, great character, engaging story, and beautiful animation. Plus just...kinda relevant in a way that’s hard to describe. Think ease of technology verses governmental control via tech. I really loved the episode about the mysterious photographer. Plus I just fell in love with the ending song.
Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (anime)
Yes, I’d never watched this before. Gonna say, not my favorite Miazaki, but as usual an excellent story with a lot of background and development. And of course I loved the creature design. Glad to finally have it watched, after all these years, but I also can’t help but wonder what the original English release was like, knowing they cut/edited a lot. Because a lot of that violence and death was...kinda necessary to understanding character motives.
H.aibane Renmei (anime)
Again, another series that’s been at the top of my list for forever. I didn’t even have an excuse not to watch is as I own the DVDs. Excellent, and touching, if not cutting a little too close to home at times (like self-harm/BFRB). Really my introduction to ABe, and I have to say I never saw the ending coming. But would definitely watch again and again. Kinda wish I could do a cosplay for this series (I’d probably be Nemu, or one of the masked characters), but I feel like you need a group for it.
G.osick (anime)
I didn’t complete this one, I’m sorry. I think the art is great, and the arcs in concept are amazing...but it falls through in the delivery. The characters don’t really feel like they have driving motives behind their actions, and sometimes the evidence and stuff are things you can’t discern from watching (’I can tell you aren’t the daughter of a coal baron because you walk short distances before turning sharply and walking the other way, like you’re pacing in a small psych ward cell’-yes, that’s a real example). Lots of potential, but not great. Sorry.
Wolf Children (anime)
Very cute. Beautiful anime. I don’t think I can say much about this that hasn’t already been said. My favorite part is the ending where she’s saying goodbye just because of how both painfully and empoweringly emotional it is.
5 Centimeters Per Second (anime)
Not bad, but probably not my favorite. It didn’t help that the version I was watching didn’t translate all of the writing, so I feel like I missed a lot of elements. While the story is definitely a sentiment I can get behind, it was also a little bit unsatisfying for me, especially at the end. But idk, maybe I just don’t like the idea of moving on when there’s the opportunity to not.
Colorful (anime)
It was...a film. About a suicide. Looking back I don’t particularly feel strongly either way about it. I think the ending was good, and giving the protag some sort of motivation, but it took forever to really get to a point where I cared about him (or he seemed to really care about the body he was inhabiting and the person he was trying to be). Some of the stuff was just...uncomfortable. It’s probably worth watching, but overall I wasn’t wowed by it.
Ibistu (manga)
My first shrink-wrapped manga. It ties together very well in the end, and the horror and violence elements did elicit some very visceral reactions in me (particularly the threat of the iron and, later, the staples). The short stories were also good, particularly the doll factory one, but I wasn’t the most fond of the one about the mangaka. Just know there’s a reason it’s shrink-wrapped and it’s not a ‘positive’ one.
A Silent Voice (anime)
Probably one of my favorite films. While I didn’t always understand the motivations behind some of the characters or their actions, it wasn’t in a way that made me uncomfortable like some of the things in Colorful did. It felt more natural for them to be irrational. Again, there is suicide, so be warned if you don’t want to deal with that. But the story is sweet and the characters are amazing. But I also have a weakness for things involving sign language and communication.
Children Who Chase Lost Voices (anime)
Very cool. Beautiful landscapes. Gave me very strong Princess Mononoke vibes at some points, but it also stood as its own story with interesting characters there are elements I wish we could have delved deeper into, though. Also...what war did the teacher fight in? It didn’t look very modern. Also also I will forever wince at the pronunciation of ‘Quetzalcoatl’. Death is a strong theme in it, so be prepared if you watch it.
The Boy and the Beast (anime)
Excellent character design. Excellent story. Excellent animation. My one complaint would be that the climax felt kind of thrown together, even though it tied back to the beginning in a good way. But overall a beautiful world with some great humor and intense elements.
The Garden of Words (anime)
Spoiler: again a story about a kid falling in love with an adult. From a platonic standpoint, the story still feels a little weird, particularly in terms of the woman’s motivations, but looking back her not getting too involved in him missing school...kinda feels like what I would do to, especially in her situation. It’s sweet, though. Maybe it’s just me and my preferences, but some elements feel a bit incomplete, and I wish had been explored/wrapped up.
Summer Wars (anime)
Probably a favorite on the films list. Again, beautiful animation. I’m not going to get over this style. But I especially liked the design of OZ and the excess of blank space in it. Characters were many but great (although I didn’t get the one baseball player was part of the family until almost the end, but that says more about me and paying attention). Even Mom got really engaged in it when I had her watch it with me (I also had her watch Wolf Children, which I thought she would like more, but apparently not). There is a character death, but if you don’t mind that it’s definitely a watch.
Beauty and the Beast Girl (manga)
A cute little story about a blind girl and a dragon girl falling in love-what more could you want? Their histories actually tie together in a really neat way. Honestly my one complaint would be that the ending feels a little too ideal and easily wrapped-up. But sometimes we need things to be that perfect, you know?
P.andora Heart (manga)
The other big story I tackled this year. There were points that were a bit slow/disengaging to me, but overall once I got hooked I really loved it. I think I need a second read to really fully understand it (if that’s possible), but equal parts cute, intense, and bittersweet. Elliot’s whole development was probably my favorite bit.
The God and the Flightless Messenger (manga)
My last story of 2020, and a very cute one at that. Another short story, with beautiful art. I don’t...really know what to say about it. It’s cute, and the love story feels both very natural and almost...secondary? Idk how to describe that. The relationship between the two of them is obviously key, but it’s the type of story where ‘I love you’ isn’t needed. It’s already there.
So yeah, there’s the list. It’s a long list. I probably still missed some. I might try to make a second list with ��in progress’ series but I’ll be playing that by ear. I’d love to hear some of you all’s thoughts on these stories (if you’ve read/watched them), or which you now want to read/watch!
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hi !! can i get a romantic haikyuu matchup with ♫︎ + 𑁍 please? she/her pronouns, i'm pan, infp, with a libra sun+moon ! i'm introverted, very chill and free spirited, also very patient, to the point that i'm sometimes a doormat :/ i'm in touch with my emotions, i'm usually quiet but can get really talkative when excited. i get in my own head a lot and have a hard time asking for help. cursed memes and playful banter are my cups of tea, and i'm not easily flustered (but that's probs partly bc i'm kinda dense oof). 🃏 [1/3]
i do competitive debate and it's kind of my sport! i'm a theatre kid too, i absolutely love performing! i'm bilingual and learning french, i love classic books, philosophy, and cats. i'm a pop culture nerd! i speak very animatedly. sharing songs is a love language for me. i think i'm very supportive towards my friends, i don't always give advice but i always try to be there for them as much as i can (even if i nag them sometimes).🃏 [2/3]
i love writing analyses on media i like! i'm especially into stuff that has lots of themes and focus on character psyche, i like picking them apart. i also like fashion and playing uke! i don't have an ideal type for an s/o, all i ask is they understand when i'm super busy and need to be alone to recharge, but also know when to call me out when i'm trying to burn myself out lol. i like spontaneous, spur of the moment dates! this got long hshs but thank you sm and hope you have a great day !! 🃏 [3/3]
♡ matchup for anon
haikyuu: i match you with . . .
tetsurō kuroo !!
• i'm convinced you'd go great with Kuroo, and that you're exactly his type! relaxed and quiet yet fun, you'd catch his attention quickly.
• he adores your analytical, nerdy side but also your funny and free-spirited personality. definetly the type to playfully make fun of you for those traits to express his affection tho (until you point out he's just as much of a geek himself)
• being Kenma's friend, he has no problem getting you out of your head and laying out the facts. he'll help you focus on smaller goals to keep you from burning out. taking breaks is obligatory and if he's not there himself you guys will have video chats to take your mind off work. his dedication knows no bounds, trust me.
• boy is super vigilant about your health but not in an annoying naggy way. he sends you reminers to drink water and have a meal because he doesn't want his dearest person hurting herself (。╯︵╰。)
• you guys met at a debate competition. Kuroo didn't really want to be there but he was recruited by his peers to fill in for another person from the debate club who couldn't make it. he's always this kind, right?
• funny thing is that you never had an "official" debate but instead one in the corridor of the building the competition was held in. you were trying desperately to get a drink stuck in the vending machine when Kuroo came to your rescue.
• he taught you a useful hack how to get those things free but also teased you about not asking for help sooner you know he had to
• you ended up arguing over whether or not it was okay to ask strangers for help. it was dumb and far from any structured debate, but it was fun! Kuroo really had a bast seeing you switch from your polite ways to excitable chatter during your conversation and knew immediately he liked you.
• so, you exchanged numbers and social media before parting ways. getting together as an official couple no doubt took a while but that only resulted in a relationship that was all the more sound and comfortable for the both of you (*´▽`*)
• if anyone plans to take advantage of your politeness, Kuroo will just stare at them over your shoulder with that smile of his. i assure you no one is going to take advantage of you on his watch! "hmm? what was that you were about to say? let us hear it."
• you playfully tease each other on daily basis, light-hearted banter and snarky remarks, but by god when he tries to be the slightest bit more romantic you completely miss the point. rip Kuroo he's taken it as a challenge to make you flustered and will stop at nothing.
• you guys would have so much fun debating over everything from philosophy to ridiculous opinions such as whether cheese goes before or after the ham on a sandwich.
• gets all smug when you start being more talkative with him because you're showing a special side to yourself, hehe.
• has the s o f t e s t smile on his face when he listens to you talk !! like, resting his chin on his palm and leaning in, hanging on your each and every word while thinking how precious you are ♡︎
• can't forget about all the cursed memes you send each other in the middle of the night! not mention how you have entire conversations in them??
• it's completely all right if you don't have advice to give. when Kuroo's feeling down you being there is all be needs ♡︎ your presence alone is enough to remind him everything is going to be okay.
• !! sharing earbuds during bus, car and train rides !! change my mind. he especially likes it if you rest your head on his shoulder all the while, it makes him feel happy that you trust him so much. plus the fluffy intimacy.
• once he tried doing the same to you but he's kinda heavy so eventually you had to tell him to lift it. but in exchange, you let him lay his head on your lap. he actually prefers it that way now.
• such an overly dramatic couple honestly. if one of you starts acting dramatic, the other will jump the bandwagon no questions asked. yeah . . . your friends don't third-wheel on your dates much . . .
• your dates include shopping for fashion (imagine trying to style his hair to fit with the rest of his outfit but the last second it just goes poof), aimless "we'll figure out a date on the way there" drives, trying out funky science experiments from youtube, donating blood, pillow fort parties and childhood movie nights ♡︎
♫︎ music box
— Yellow by Coldplay
— Nicholas Sparks by Kinda Collective
— Sweet Talk by Saint Motel
— Backyard Boy by Claire Rosinkranz
— Dance, baby! by Pablo
𑁍 jewellery box
— favourite memory with you
afrer a big volleyball game victory Kuroo had decided to cofess to you. it was the perfect opportunity, he was feeling the most confident and ready. so, after the celebration with his teammates he invited you over to his place where you'd get some peace and quiet. however, before he got to say what he'd been agonising over for months now, you asked to play a song for him. you had written it yourself, especially for him, for this victory and your own confession! boy was absolutely shooketh but all the more smitten. he almost cried you were so perfect shh it was you both laughed as he said his confession right after ♡︎
— favourite activity to do together
i said it before and i'm gonna say it again: Kuroo loves playfully bantering with you. your wit never ceases to surprise him but it also gives him an excuse to throw an arm around your shoulder and get even closer to you ♡︎ as for actual activities i wanna say simply hanging out with you is more than enough for Kuroo because it's then when you're the most relaxed. it also leaves room for more spontaneous dates, your adventures are always new and exciting!
— favourite place to kiss you
Kuroo is a tease and will kiss you anywhere but the lips (or any other place you want him to). he loves giving you kisses but in most situations you might think he lives to see your pout or glare as he takes his time. in the end though, his kisses are the sweetest, meant only for you. in conclusion, i think his preferences very much shift according to yours.
— favourite nicknames to call you by
okay i know 'kitten' is very popular in the fandom, and i think since you like cats he enjoys calling you by it. but the nicknames he likes calling you by the most are usually in foreign languages, like 'chica' 'ma cherie' etc. if you like nicknames then do i have good news for you because cheesy ones as 'hunny bun' and 'boo' are also on his list!
— favourite thing about you
your sense of humour, among other things, is something Kuroo finds endearing about you! it's very similar to his own so he thinks of it as something that connects the two of you. also, the fact that you're in touch with your emotions is precious in his eyes. it's not common these days so you're a special treasure to him ♡︎
♡︎ runner up: Rintaro Suna
hihi! here i am doing requests hahahahaa . . . right. no excuses. i am terribly sorry for the wait so i'm trying to improve the quality of these in an attempt to make-up for the mega long wait. i sincerely hope you see and loke this!! stay safe and remember to be kind to yourself ♡︎
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Suicide/Self-Sacrifice/Manic-Depression
This may well be my best post yet regarding philosophical theories and artistic interpretations, using the characters and storylines from the show, ‘Xena: Warrior Princess’, as a staple, if I can explain my thoughts and feelings on it well enough. I want to tackle the themes of ‘suicide’, ‘manic-depression’ and ‘self-sacrifice’. Some posts I’ve reblogged on Tumblr have inspired me to write down my take on these subjects, and the situations, circumstances and consequences that follow. This will probably be a very long post, so bear with me. I’ll try to keep on topic as much as possible, as this will be very hard to explain in a way that will not be offending, ignorant or just plain stupid. I want it to come across to people in a positive way!
Callisto:
The character Callisto was introduced in Season 1 and her story was very complicated. It was difficult to understand her consciously and morally for the awful things she was doing, and her reasons as to why she was doing them. Eventually there came to a point in the show where she felt she had nothing left to live for and she wanted to die. This was right after she heard the screams of Xena mourning the death of her son, Solan, in the Season 3 episode, ‘Maternal Instincts’. You see the expression of pure ecstasy on her face, as she had desired this for so long. To make Xena feel the pain and the grief she caused her when she burned her hometown and murdered her family. To give her a taste of the immense torture it had inflicted on her all throughout the years growing up alone and full of revenge, driving her to psychopathy. I’ve said this before, but I could never quite look at Callisto as a villain, as I could see she was so damaged and depressed, that she really couldn’t help becoming the way she did. I feel she was seriously misunderstood, and I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who feels this way about her. This scene in the episode was supposed to be her moment of accomplishment and relief. But then her facial expression begins to change to confusion and apathy. She realized it didn’t do anything to cure her condition, it only made her empty and numb inside. She was waiting for the relief to wash over her and for the pleasure to settle into her system and it didn’t. After so many years of wanting to destroy Xena’s soul, she finally got her wish… and it did NOTHING!
What brought her to the point of yearning for death was the fact that she couldn’t feel anything anymore. Not even her hatred for Xena… which was what was motivating her to hold on to her life to begin with. She believed the only meaning to her life was to destroy Xena’s. The delicious scent of fulfillment never came, and she was done with it. From that point onwards she craved oblivion, and unfortunately for her, since becoming a god, that wasn’t possible. The Olympian gods cannot take their own lives. Another must do it or they must get permission from Zeus, as their roles as immortals are important and too valuable to be wasted, according to the king of the gods. This was the fatal flaw in her plan. She wanted to live long enough to sate her vengeance. But what she ended up doing instead was giving herself no way out of her emotional and mental torment. What did, however, relieve her of that, as we see later in the show, was Xena sacrificing herself to save her soul from eternal damnation in Hell. Thus, as an angel, she was reformed and could forgive Xena without question. She helped Eli bring her and Gabrielle back to life, as well as provide her with what she once took from her. A child. A human life, that to which would conceal her reincarnated soul, giving her what Xena once took from her. A mother. Such a beautiful and satisfying end to her story. If she had found a way to destroy her existence, that would have never happened for her, as it was impossible for her to not experience consciousness. No matter which reincarnated body, denomination of the afterlife or alternate reality she was in. Committing suicide would not have helped anything. It would not have given her any kind of respite whatsoever. Suicide was not the answer. Xena’s self-sacrifice was. It was down to Xena to save her, as Callisto was well passed the point of saving herself.
Xena:
Now this is where I need to be very careful because I don’t want to upset anyone who has had personal experiences with losing loved ones to suicide, or give those who might have suicidal tendencies an excuse to act on them. I’m going to try my best to express myself in a respectful way regarding Xena’s story, and whether she was suicidal or not, as some Xenites have pointed out parts of the show where it’s explicitly implied that she was because she had no regard for her own life and felt she never deserved forgiveness. We’ll start off with the pilot episode, ‘Sins Of The Past’, as this is where her story starts after changing her ways and reforming into a heroine for the ‘greater good’. Turning away from her darkness, and her desire to destroy anyone who got in her way of conquering entire nations. We see her riding Argo into smoke-filled areas, where an attack has evidently struck. Her mind occupied with images and sounds of the sins of her past. Remembering all the lives she had destroyed physically and emotionally. She comes across a boy in the wreckage of the village she was passing by and gave him some food before speeding off out of the area. I personally think this scene was a delusion, as the boy was talking about how it was Xena who killed his parents, and that she came out of the sky “throwing thunderbolts and breathing fire.” I believe the boy and the decimated village was real but the experience he was relating was not. So, therefore, I feel it was just her deluding herself with the memories of the horrible things she had done, and the consequences it had on the lives of those she victimized and destroyed.
Next we see her in a wooded surrounding taking off her armor and leathers, leaving her in only her under-shift, and burying them, covering them with soil and leaves. It is here where it is possible she was thinking of committing suicide as we also see her staring blankly, presumably deep in thought at what she was about to do. Contemplating on going through with it, I would assume. Now if we go all the way to the second to last episode, ‘A Friend In Need Part I’, we see her do the exact same thing, only this time, her last look and thoughts were of Gabrielle, walking in the opposite direction, with absolutely no inclination of what she was about to do, which was to allow the army to kill her. We watch her put up enough of a fight to take out as many men as she possibly could, until finally meeting the general face to face as he cuts off her head, in first-person view, with blood covering the camera screen, shocking us all. She was allowing him to kill her as she could have easily stopped him if she had wanted to, as Gabrielle points out later. She evidently was wanting to die. So these parallels definitely allude to her being suicidal and caring nothing for her own life. Only Gabrielle’s and the people who were about to be attacked by Yodoshi’s soldiers. I don’t blame her to be honest. The 40,000 lives she had taken all those years ago would have drove her to that conclusion. Their blood on her hands, if only figuratively, making the decision for her. So considering those scenes, as well as her confession to Gabrielle, in the Season 6 episode, ‘Legacy’, that she was the one who changed her decision to “wanting it to end”, it is very conceivable she was plagued with suicidal thoughts throughout the entire show. And given this theory is accurate, it tells you Gabrielle saved her life without even realizing it from the moment she first met her. That is an astonishing revelation, and it completely changes the tone of the whole show. The thought that Xena could have been suicidal all that time. She was only happy when she was with Gabrielle, who she referred to as her “light” and her “source”. Her reason for existing at all. Therefore, what the meaning of life was for Xena wasn’t a theme of any kind. It was a living and breathing human, who seemingly enjoyed her life and was very peaceful about it to begin with… but was she really? We’ll get on to her next…
Gabrielle:
This is a perspective that might be a little bit of a reach, and there certainly isn’t any reason to make this show seem any darker than it already is from what I’ve talked about previously, but I feel I must include this character in this topic of conversation, as she is my favourite character in the whole show. @brifigy made an enlightening post that I would like you to read:
https://girl4music.tumblr.com/post/168126126575/girl4music-brifigy-girl4music-brifigy
I think @brifigy had a valid theory, and I’d like to elaborate on it to support it. I am quite observant, so I notice things others completely overlook. There are certain traits from Gabrielle’s psyche I want to bring to light to you all, in continuation of @brifigy’s theory. Gabrielle might have been struggling with manic-depression. However, because of her incredible capacity for emotional strength, she was able to hide it from the audience and convince them that she was a happy person, as she so evidently appeared to be from the outside.
You must look very deeply into her character to pick up instances of depression and mania. It is very probable she could have been manic-depressed. Obviously, back then, there was no such term or diagnosis available for mental and emotional disorders. It’s a very relevant and logical perspective to come to, as her character is very layered and complicated. Though, it’s rather hard to pinpoint exactly where it might have been accurate. This is my attempt at pinpointing moments in the show where this perspective makes sense, with my limited knowledge on manic-depression.
The first thing I want to mention is Gabrielle’s insistence to cater to and sacrifice herself for others, both physically and emotionally. We see this side of her right from the start. In her introduction scene, she is shown sacrificing her own life for the health and freedom of her family. The very same event that saved Xena from committing suicide… was also the one where Gabrielle offered her own life to the slave-traders. In fact, throughout the whole of the season we see her constantly doing this for others. Putting herself in harm’s way. Throwing herself in front of strangers. Doing dangerous tasks to prove herself as a responsible young adult, and worthy of being Xena’s sidekick. Bravely stepping up to the plate time and time again to protect and defend others, even with her lack of fighting skill and strength, all the while showing extreme naivety and recklessness.
But what for? What was her motive? Why did she behave this way? Why was she so compassionate and selfless? Well, if you’ve ever met someone who struggles with manic-depression, you will also most likely meet a person who is the most caring, kind and optimistic person you’ve ever encountered in your life, as this person is so tormented by their inner-demons, that they would never wish the same on others, and will endeavor to be a person who will always be there for others, and offer as much help and emotional support as they possibly can. They are usually very empathetic, artistic and adventurous. Always wanting a change in routine and schedule to keep them passionate about life. Always looking for meaning in everything, as they want to be able to give to the world their help and healing. The very thing they do not have for themselves or know how to give themselves. They are also somebody that always doubts themselves, and believes they have more faults than skills, but they express it in such a way where it seems like they’re not being serious. It just comes across as a funny passing joke. Laughing at themselves and their imperfections, but deep inside really struggle with them, and believing in themselves and their capabilities. They give to others what they cannot give to themselves. Pointing out their potential and strengths to lift that person’s confidence and vibration. They talk about subjects that refer to overcoming obstacles and finding the meaning of life. But you never really notice that they’re talking about themselves because they’re just so damn good at putting it into a non-personal way.
If this does not sound like Gabrielle to you in the first season, you haven’t really been paying enough attention, because I can point out many times where Gabrielle has shown these personality and behavioural traits, and not just in the first season either. Gabrielle had an immense evolution, and a lot of what happened to her in Season 3 made her really grow up. She became stronger and wiser because of it. Initially, she appeared to be an overly enthusiastic, loving life, kind of person. But was she just putting on a show? And if she was suffering with manic-depression, (or what has come to be known as ‘bipolar disorder’ nowadays) what caused this manifestation of mental issues in the first place? Childhood trauma, perhaps? It seems like Gabrielle’s first experience of trauma is in Season 2 and Season 3. But we have no idea what was going on before that in her hometown or inside her head. We’ll never know. But what we do know is that Xena saved her, as she confesses that in the Season 4 episode, ‘The Ides Of March’, as @brifigy‘s post said. It’s as good a confirmation as any.
Thank you, @brifigy for enlightening us with this insight into Gabrielle’s character. I merely only wanted to elaborate on it and support it. I hope you don’t mind. I’m done! That was long-winded, but I hope you took something from it. It’s a hard topic to talk about, but I thought I’d express my thoughts and feelings on it, thoroughly, anyway. If you got this far, thank you so much for reading. I love my Xenite family. I hope none of you ever take your own life, or put yourself in a situation where you could die, because you don’t care about yourself. You are deserving of so much in this world, and it would not be the same without you. Do not follow Xena!
IF YOU EVER WANT TO TALK PRIVATELY… MY DM’S ARE OPEN!
#xena warrior princess#xena and gabrielle#xena#lucy lawless#gabrielle#renee o'connor#callisto#hudson leick#return of callisto#maternal instincts#legacy#sins of the past#the ides of march#suicide#self-sacrifice#manic-depression#bipolar disorder#brifigy#theory
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what are some book recs? I want to read a new series 🤩
thanks for asking!! 🙈 get ready for some basic recs and hopefully recs you haven’t heard before! gets less basic and more pretentious (?) as u go down, i think,,, also sorry this took me so long to post! i’m the worst, bless you for putting up with me. the list and my descriptions are under the cut!
1. The Shatter Me series is pretty good so far. It’s a YA series that has eight books, and it’s completed, but I’ve only read the first three. So far, it has a lovelyyy enemies to lovers romance that is very reminiscent of ships like captain swan (and reylo, just for you, kat. there’s a scene in the second book that reminds me so much of the throne room scene where rey is debating joining kylo ren). It’s about a girl whose touch is lethal and her growing into her power and doing some badass stuff. She’s a little annoying because she’s horny the entire time but all in all, I’d highly recommend it, especially considering your tastes!
2. I always always always have to recommend the Six of Crows duology, if you haven’t read it yet. It’s objectively the best ya series around and is a sequel series to the Shadow and Bone trilogy, but reading that first isn’t necessary. It’s about a heist and the group of six criminal teens who try to pull it off, and the found family trope is strong with this one. I would die for every single character, and the plot is twisty and so so good!! The romances are all perfectly angsty, too.
3. Another ya classic is The Raven Cycle series and its spinoff, The Dreamer Trilogy (which only has one book so far). It’s extremely difficult to describe but the found family is good here too. It’s about a group of friends in Virginia who are looking for a dead Welsh king. There’s lots of supernatural things and dreams and psychics and dead people who are alive and alive people who are dead. It’s so odd but so endearing and unique and reading it makes me so nostalgic for some reason.
4. Onto non-ya but still basic! The Goldfinch is one of those books that you read because everyone says you should and then suddenly you’re crying over the last 20 pages and overthinking the meaning of life. It’s a coming of age story about a boy who steals a painting after his mom dies in a museum bombing and deals with the guilt and repercussions of this theft for the next decade or two. It can be a bit problematic (as I find with Donna Tartt novels) but it’s mostly good.
5. The Great Gatsby is a good one, especially if you (like myself) had to read it in middle/high school and didn’t actually read it. And then you go back and read it and realize it was actually really good! Basically: guy simps for girl, his neighbor narrates the whole thing, and there’s death and a roaring 20’s aesthetic and ~ s y m b o l i s m ~
6. The Inkworld Trilogy (starting with Inkheart) is a childhood favorite of mine and I just remembered by looking at my bookshelf omg. It’s about a girl and her dad who can read themselves and other things in and out of books, and there’s a specific obsession with this book called Inkheart. Super unique and lovely aesthetics and nostalgia, especially if you grew up reading books! It is middle grade, though (or at most early YA). Speaking of middle grade, if you haven’t read Harry Potter or Percy Jackson, you must.
7. Till We Have Faces by the guy who wrote Narnia is a retelling of the myth of Eros and Psyche through the eyes of the oldest sister who is so ugly she has to cover her face with a veil (or so she’s convinced). Her ‘ugliness’ is a big plot point, contrasted against Psyche’s beauty. She loves her sister more than her own life and is convinced that the beast who takes her in is actually evil. But who’s the real villain of the story? Who’s the real hero? Hmm... It’s such an interesting take on the myth and no one ever talks about this book!!!!! The last two chapters are a trip, but CS Lewis considered it his best work (and I agree!)
8. Any and every Shakespeare play. Specifically Much Ado About Nothing, it’s an easy read and has the funniest plot: Two exes ‘hate’ each other and people are tired of them fighting so they set them up. Side plot where girl’s cousin has to fake her death to defend her honor. I’m a shameless Shakespeare nerd. Ignore this one if u want lol, or watch the Emma Thompson movie!
9. If you actually are a Shakespeare nerd, I’d recommend the dark academia murder mystery novel If We Were Villains. It’s about a tight-knit group of seven pretentious young actors in their final year studying at an acting conservatory. This year, the casting list for a particular performance is different than usual, and it causes drama between the characters and eventually leads to one of them being murdered. It uses themes and plots from Shakespeare plays such as Julius Caesar, King Lear, and more, and there are scenes where characters’ actions off-stage match or contrast their actions on-stage, and it’s super cool if you’re a NERD like me.
10. Red White and Royal Blue is like every rom-com you’ve ever watched with every cute (fanfic) trope you could think of! What if the first son of the United States hated (read: was secretly in love with) the Prince of Wales? They’re rivals until they bond over Star Wars (there’s more than that, but, mood). They are so dramatic and the writing is wonderful. Covers absolutely everything I could ever want from a story, honestly. It has the best cast of side characters, too!
11. The All for the Game trilogy is no easy read, it’s very gritty and I’d recommend reading the list of trigger warnings before opening the books. But, if you’re up for it, it’s a good story involving a fake sport and a bunch of college students from rough backgrounds who play said fake sport and eventually bond over trauma and such. Also, it’s set in my state with an orange paw-themed sports team... hmmm familiar
12. It was at this point that I wondered if I should recommend the Shadow and Bone trilogy. It’s getting a Netflix series this year (!!) and it’s the series before Six of Crows, mentioned earlier, but it’s not as good. Many people complain about the ending (even though I liked it) and Leigh Bardugo’s definitely found her style since writing these. Also, the character development is lacking. That being said! It’s a good introduction into the Grishaverse and it helps you get a feel for the magic system and all that. It’s not a terrible series, it’s just cliche and Alina makes me want to rip my hair out :))
13. Classics promo ok... if you haven’t read all those (specifically greek) classics that were on the english syllabus that were ignored or sparknotes’d, now’s the time to read them to enjoy them! My personal favorite is The Iliad.
#here u go kat!! sorry these are late#i went through my entire 200 goodreads 'read' list for this#this looks like a syllabus i hate it#half of these are Gay whoops#that's just how it be babey#book recs#answered#thank you!!!#kat tag
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The Dangerous Forest Excursion Part Two
#BFF!Bill#bill skarsgard#bill skarsgard fic#bill skarsgard drabble#forest bill#sub tiger#Bill Skarsgard fanfic#Bill Skarsgård fan fiction
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journal 1/ chapters 1-4 / the prologue to graphic design
initial thoughts
When I first received the textbook, the 6th edition of Meggs' History of Graphic Design (written by Philip B. Meggs and Alston W. Purvis) in the mail, I was immediately stressed out. I was unfortunately gifted the trait of being ultra stressed about a lot of things, but school always won first place in amount of stress. (My freshman year of high school I was so stressed I was getting a lot of gray hairs...so embarrassing!) In general, history has been my least favorite subject, and therefore was the subject I struggled with the most. Although I am passionate about graphic design, I wasn't super psyched to be reading about its history. Sorry Professor!
1 / the invention of writing
These terms! I believe I have only heard of pictographs and hieroglyphics before reading this. To read that there's petroglyphs, ideographs, cuneiform, and rebus writing. Wow.
"The symbol for sun...began to represent ideas such as "day" and "light"." (pg.9, Meggs.): You know, I never considered that. On my essay in quiz 1, I discussed how there were would be too many characters to represent every word, and that is why having an alphabet is more advantageous. Though I agree with my argument, I wonder how many symbols would have dual or more meanings, as that is the case for many words in the modern English language. For example, the word "die" could mean the verb of ceasing to exist, or it could mean the noun of a dot-marked playing cube / singular form of dice. So in cuneiform terms, would the symbol for "die" [noun] represent the idea of death? Probably not, but maybe with crazy English it might.
Whenever quarantine ends, I wonder how hard it would be to make my own cylinder seal. After reading this portion, I found the urge to make one. Obviously with modern technology, making a personalized stamp wouldn't be that hard, and I have seen some DIY artists make their wax seals. I think it would be fantastically ridiculous to have an obnoxious stone seal to go around "marking my territory" on.
Ah papyrus. I feel stupid for admitting this, but I didn't actually know papyrus was a plant. I didn't think it was not a plant, however I just never thought of it that deeply. I'm going to look up what it looks like right now. [...] Oh, okay. I suppose today is the appropriate day to say that it sort of looks like thin marijuana? Anyway, speaking of papyrus, the reason I never gave it much thought to it being a plant is because I have been too focused on everyone's hatred for the Papyrus typeface. Why does everyone hate it? I haven't found myself wanting to use it (yet), but I definitely feel this social pressure that I'm not allowed to use it.
I find superstition fascinating. I think if I could meet anyone from the past I would want to meet the illustrator of the Book of the Dead. That would be a morbidlly cool job to have, just feeling that some random guy named Bob has had enough days lived. AND WITH THE POWER OF THE PEN you kill hi- I mean let him enter the afterlife.
2 / alphabets
The definition of an alphabet is definetly something I have not thought about in depth. This definition makes sense, but I always took it for granted in terms of- well I know English, there's an alphabet. I tried to learn Spanish, there's an alphabet... it's almost the same except they're pronounced differently and there's another n- ñ. I tried to learn Japanese, and there's almost twice as many characters (as English), 2 for each sound.
Fascinating to learn that Hebrew and Arabic writing was the evolution of the Phoenician alphabet. I can very much see the resemblances. But it's crazier that different cultures took it in one direction, and then the Greeks took it in another direction, and the Romans took that alphabet in a completely different direction. It blows my mind to see how far we've come.
Ah yes, serifs. I love the whole argument over whether they originated at cleanup marks or sharpening-the-brush-tip marks. Can't we just be glad they exist? (I want to believe it's the sharpening origin, it sounds more efficient.)
Vellum paper feels amazing; no wonder it has to be made from that smooth baby skin. Yikes.
Scrolls are also an obnoxious thing I'd like to have. For instance, I probably will have my will written in a large scroll to represent how dramatic I am.
As someone who used to be obsessed with Kpop, I think it is absolutely amazing that Hangul is such a technical alphabet. It reminds me of how humans have that disk they threw into outer space teaching aliens how to speak English via the shape of your mouth and lips and what position your tongue should go for certain sounds. Obviously this is the origin and is way more impressive especially at such an early point in our history. It makes me appreciate the language and those that write in it much more.
3 / the asian contribution
I appreciated that this chapter starts off crediting the Chinese with creations forcertain things that I remember throughout middle school and high school, history class always seemed to gloss over. Like where did these Europeans know which way was north and to figure they could kill others by putting some powder in their guns. Paper also always came out of nowhere, but I'm glad I learned its origin sooner than reading this.
I have learned that Chinese calligraphy was more important that painting before, but in a different way. As I'm in a lot of art classes, I was taught that Chinese painters would usually also be calligraphers and viewers could tell that the same person who painted the painting wrote the calligraphy as the style of the strokes would match. Thinking about it more now, it would make sense why it would be more important as calligraphy was something you had to memorize AND learn where as with painting, anyone could technically learn how to visualize.
Referencing my earlier rant about cylinder seals, chops are also something I enjoy and would want to have one of my own. Personally I like cooler colors better, so maybe I would choose to have a blue ink instead... but I know that's not the point. I think this would make more sense to be the origin of printing as it is constructing something once and being able to reproduce it over and over just with the use of ink.
The Chinese also invented playing cards! How interesting that they were called sheet dice and a unique aspect of graphic design that you never realize until you actually think about it.
I agree with the authors, it is odd that languages with thousands of characters would decide to use such a tedious method like movable type. On the bright side, we wouldn't have our lovely lazy Susan's if it weren't for this tedious type!
4 / illuminated manuscripts
As someone who appreciates shiny things (my weakness is holographic) it was exciting to learn about illuminated manuscripts. I'm just imagining the gold leaf making the page glow from a couple meters away. Those kind of things make me like to pretend stuff is magical. And for your title to be an illuminator? Yes please. AND to learn that these were insanely portable for a lazy human like me? Perfection.
Earlier this year I learned about ascenders and descenders in typography, so it was nice to know their origin as well as how lowercase and uppercase letters came from minuscule and majuscule.
I am thankful for the Celtics for deciding to put spaces between words. Reading (especially something I'm not interested in) would be a much more painful task ifeverythinglookedlikethis. No wonder humans were evolving so slowly before this point. Howdoyouknowwhenonewordendsandanotherbegins?
All of these illustrations next to the text on the manuscripts make me wonder if they were still using hieroglyphics, would they even bother to illustrate these giant paintings or would it seem (or at least appear) to look repetitive? I particularly enjoy the page from Ormesby Psalter, a Gothic manuscript on page 61; it's very beautifully done.
While I'm not a religious person, I think the concept of aniconism is very interesting. Also how you could view illustrations of living things, but only inside. Can't deny that their commitment to an intricate and complex design in the Islamic manuscripts were not short of beauty.
The Limbourg brothers' story was interesting to me: how they were all illuminated book designers, how they all died before finishing their most well known project, just short of when the duc de Berry died.
This chapter was the roughest for me. I feel that it was a bit long for my tastes and it gave me a bit of anxiety that with it being so long that the professor told us to focus more on chapter 1 than this chapter. That's my issue though and it was still pretty insightful.
post thoughts
I understand the reviews for this book that I read, about how the writing is something I'm going to have to get used to. It is definitely informative, but oh my it is a lot. Will definetly not be doing this journal so late on Sunday night. Sorry professor...
Source: Meggs' History of Graphic Design, 6th Edition, Philip B. Meggs and Alston W. PurvisJohn Wiley & Sons publishers.
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Looking Through the Eyes of Love // Part 1
Pairing: Brian May X American!Fem!Reader
Warning: Nothing really, there’s a bit of fluff and one swear.
Summary: When the reader moves in with her old host brother from when she was a foreign exchange student, her and a certain guitarist quickly hit it off.
Word Count: 1447
August 14, 1970
Early on in the brisk Friday morning, a cool chill taking over as the summer comes to an end, your 12 hour flight to Heathrow makes a steady decline. Awoken by what may be the most comforting, motherly voice you had ever heard, you slowly opened your eyes, happier than ever to be that much closer to the man who you call your best friend. During your junior year of high school, an opportunity to study abroad in England for your senior year was offered to you. You accepted immediately, and that’s how you met John. His parents had signed up to be your host parents, thus making John your host brother. You became best friends, but before you knew it, the school year ended. After taking a year off to travel around Europe, you decided to go to University. When you told John, he practically forced you to become his roommate. So you did, and here you were, about to step into the airport where he had gotten up at 6:00 AM to make sure he would arrive before your flight arrived. Thank god for cafes in airports, or he may not have survived the two hours waiting for you to arrive.
“Deaks!” you practically screeched, seeing him sat at a bar stool, his long hair a bit of a mess, a cigarette placed lightly between his lips. He instantly turned around, a huge smile already on his face. Any indicators that he was severely sleep deprived from shows and getting your room ready almost disappeared when the corners of his mouth nearly reached his ears. Putting out the cigarette quickly, he ran over to you, enveloping you in a warm hug before grabbing your luggage. He directed you out of the airport and into a cab, telling the driver his - your - apartment’s address.
“So, how were your travels! Worth putting off school for a year?” John asked, grinning like a madman, his hand clenching yours
“Absolutely! I have so many pictures to show you of every place I saw, every person I met, and even every meal I ate. I have more pictures than anyone should ever take in their life.” You respond, a giggle erupting as you finished your sentence. John just smiled, so happy to have you back, like a sibling coming home after leaving for the first time.
The drive was 20 minutes full of reconnecting, inside jokes, and anecdotes from your travels. You were almost upset when the cab driver pulled up to yours and John’s place, opening up the trunk for you two to grab your bags. John led you up, and fumbling for the keys with full hands. Stepping into your new home, you took everything in. John had sent pictures from before he decorated, and you almost didn’t recognize it. He had put a new coat of paint on the walls, freshening up the dirty white which had developed through the years of improper cleaning. He had a nice area rug positioned under the couch and coffee table up against the wall of the living area, in the shape of a rectangle, a fluffy array of various grays and dusty teal. A TV sat just out of reach of the rug, a small cacti sat atop the box-like electronic. In the corner sat two mismatched living chairs, one on either side of a bookshelf made of an old ladder. John definitely understood what you meant when you said “rustic bohemian.” He had a record player up against the wall on the corner leading into the hallway, stacks of vinyls lining the wall. Opposite the records was the kitchenette, a small dining table with four chairs around it the center of it all. The last you had seen of the apartment, it was akin to a ghost town, it’s past engraved in its walls. But, John had turned it into something you felt you could live in forever.
John quickly showed you to your room, a soft glow emitting from the single window placed opposite your bed. He had gotten you all the essentials, knowing you would know just how to make the space yours. A rustic, cherry-stained oak dresser was in the corner, and you began to unpack your belongings. He left you to do this while simply waited in the living room for you to be done, figuring that him trying to help may result in just talking and not actually putting your clothes away.
Just as you finished folding your last shirt, you realized the chatter coming from the living room. Knowing that you didn’t look presentable for company, you quickly changed out of your sweatpants and into a pair of jeans, and opting for a white tank top and knit cardigan instead of an over-sized sweatshirt with “ITALY” written in green, white, and red sewn patches you picked up in Florence during your travels. Walking into the living room, you’re greeted with all eyes on you, as if they weren’t expecting to see you. After a few moments of awkward stares, the blond broke the silence.
“Well done, John! Never expected to see a strange woman walking ‘round your flat!” He said, patting John on the back with wide eyes.
“She isn’t some strange woman, Rog, she’s my old host sister. Remember?” He said, getting up to introduce you to his friends. “Guys, this is Y/N. I told you guys all week that she was moving in today, remember?”
“Oh, how could we forget, darling. You hardly shut up about her. Roger here just has shit memory” the man with dark brown hair assured your friend that people did pay attention to him. He reached out a hand and finally introduced himself. “Lovely to finally meet you, Y/N. I’m Freddie, lead vocals for the band. That there, as you’ve probably caught on, is Roger, he drums, and that lanky poodle in the corner is our guitarist, Brian.”
“I think I can introduce her myself, Fred.” John groaned, wishing he could get a word in even when it came to his own best friend.
You had barely noticed Brian, he was so focused on his book when you walked into the room as he sat in the reading corner. But as soon as Roger teased John, his eyes perked up and didn’t leave you until Fred said his name. A blush crept onto his cheeks as he realized he was staring at you, immediately getting up to say a proper hello.
“Hi, lovely meeting you, Y/N.”
“Lovely meeting you too, Brian.” you replied warmly, making eye contact with the tall man. “I noticed you reading a book over there, what was it on? If you don’t mind my asking.”
He beamed, a toothy smile spreading across his face. “Oh, um, I don’t mind at all. They might though, Rog hates it when I go on rambles about this stuff. It’s, uh, on reflected light from interplanetary dust. Quite fascinating, really, though I haven’t met many people outside of class willing to hear me ramble on about these kinds of things.”
“Well, I’d love to hear more about it. I’m not normally much of a science person, but I’m sure you could find a way to dumb it down for me” you offered, a giggle escaping. “But of course, that means you’d have to deal with me and my psychology rambles.” As a passionate psych major, you had already read more than your fair share of books on various psychologists and their findings. With the amount of research you’d done, you could probably teach a course of your own with material to spare.
“I’d love to, although you’d have to dumb all of that down for me, as well. Maybe we could ramble to each other over some tea sometime?” He proposed, looking at you hopefully.
“That would be great, just tell me the time and place and I’ll be there.” You replied, almost too excitedly.
“Sorry to interrupt you two lovebirds, but while you two have been off being all smart together, we’ve been trying to decide on a place to go to for lunch. Any input? Y/N, your voice matters the most, as it’s your first day back in England since god knows when.” Freddie quickly grabs your attention, and you had to think it over for a minute. You had passed by quite a few places that looked good, but decided on a pizza place not far called Minnelli's. The guys seemed content with that answer, and John celebrated as he knew you would choose that place. You all slipped on your shoes and coats, walking out of the apartment and over to the pizza place.
A/N:That’s all for part 1! Please tell me what you think, I’d love to hear some feedback. Also, this is my first fic, so thanks for reading it at all! Until next time!
#brian may#roger taylor#john deacon#freddie mercury#brian may x reader#queen#queen fic#looking through the eyes of love rogerina_deacon
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Curse of Undoings - Part 7
I got through writing this next chapter a little sooner than originally planned but ended up making a bit of a change. I decided to save a portion that was originally supposed to go here for the next installment because I felt it took away from Emma's last line of this chapter. So, here’s a quick recap - we last left off with Killian unconscious in a dark tunnel and Henry nearly being caught stealing the snow globe. How long do you think both will go unnoticed? (if you said not long, you might be right...)
No major trigger warnings apply to this chapter although there are a few mentions of Killian’s lingering injuries. Fear not, my whump loving friends, there’s plenty more pain to come... @killian-whump , @hookaroo and @castielamigos - you will all enjoy the next few chapters!
Catch up on AO3 or FF,net or here: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
Anxiety was beginning to work it's way into Henry's psyche as he made his way to the mine entrance. From here, the tunnel's opening was only about another fifty yards to the left. From this side, it didn't look like much, merely a dark recess in a wall of slate and sandstone where the trickle of an underground stream broke the surface before continuing on its meandering path to empty into the lake. Henry had often wondered if any of the dwarfs who'd spent so much time down in these damp, shadowy mines had ever been curious enough to follow that little stream to its origin, but maybe they'd lacked his drive to explore. Right now, it was probably for the best that the tunnel remained his secret space.
Just beyond the point where that trickle of water vanished into the rock lay a crevice that was so obscured, a person could easily walk right past it if they weren't sure where to look. It was a bit of a tight squeeze to get inside, but once through to the other side, it widened into a tunnel that, by all appearances, looked chiseled out by an unknown hand. Henry obviously knew that wasn't the case as the passageway must have been created along with the rest of the town through Regina's dark curse. But whatever the history, it was irrelevant today as all Henry cared about was getting back to Killian.
Using the flashlight setting on his phone to guide his way through the pitch black, he hurried through the tunnel as quickly as he could manage safely. He'd been gone less than twenty minutes, but if Killian's bleeding hadn't slowed, he feared he might be returning to find a corpse.
No. No, he scolded himself for even harboring such thoughts. Killian had to be alive or the Black Fairy would have succeeded in wiping out their stories by now. Captain Hook was a survivor and now more than ever, Henry needed that statement to be true. As he came around the last bend, he could see the faint glow of the flashlight he'd left for Killian, thankful that the batteries hadn't given out. Getting closer, it didn't appear that Killian had moved at all, which likely meant that he hadn't regained consciousness. Ultimately though, both of them ended up being startled as Killian stirred at the crunch of gravel beneath Henry's feet.
"It's just me, Killian," Henry assured the wary pirate as he moved closer, shining the light onto his face so Killian could recognize him. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get back here, but I needed to go pick up a few things."
"What things...? Why did you leave?" Killian demanded. "I was worried you'd been captured."
"You were unconscious when I left and really, I didn't mean to be gone so long but I was forced to take a detour." He shrugged the backpack off of his shoulders as he switched off the cell phone light, needing to conserve battery power. "I went to get my backpack so we'd have some water and some snacks too. I know you were really thirsty earlier, especially after having that gag in your mouth. Are you hungry at all?"
Henry unzipped his pack and shoved his free hand inside, digging around until he located the still sealed bottle of spring water which he yanked out along with a fistful of snacks, offering all of his treasures to his stepfather. Killian grimaced while struggling to push himself back into a more upright position, the flayed skin and muscle of his back threatening to tear open anew with even the slightest movement. A trembling arm nearly gave out as he shifted his weight to his right side, finally wrangling his unwilling limbs enough to sit before reaching for the bottle. Henry twisted off the cap and then passed it to Killian who gulped down nearly a third of the precious liquid before pausing for a breath.
"Thank you, lad. That was much needed, but no, I'm not really hungry. Not entirely certain I could keep anything down at this moment either." Killian handed the bottle back to Henry who replaced the cap, saving the rest for later. "You took a huge risk by going after all of this."
"It's fine. I knew what I was doing and I was careful. We're safe here, for now at least but we really need to get you some help and we need to figure out how to free my family from this thing…" Henry withdrew another object from his backpack and held it up proudly – the snow globe that he'd procured from Fiona's bookshelf, garnering both pride and a glint of horror from Killian as he recognized the prize Henry was clutching.
"Henry – where do you get that?"
"From Fiona's office. When you said Fiona showed you a snow globe and said she'd trapped our family inside, I remembered that she'd been grinning at something on her bookshelf. I found this snow globe on that shelf so this has to be the one. Is this the one she showed you?"
Weakened by constant pain and the lingering effects of too much blood lost, Killian's senses weren't acute enough to be entirely certain, but even in the minimal light provided by the flashlight, it looked like the same object that Fiona had flaunted before him earlier. "I believe it is the same one, but I'm afraid I'm not fully certain." Killian exhaled a deep sigh, knowing that Fiona would absolutely have all of her henchmen mobilized the moment she discovered the globe was missing.
Henry could see the flicker of trepidation in Killian's eyes which had him immediately second-guessing his hasty actions. "What's wrong? Was I wrong to take the snow globe?"
"No, Henry, you weren't wrong to take it. We do need to have that trinket in our possession if we're to devise a way to free Regina, your grandparents and all of the others trapped in limbo inside that thing, but it also puts us in greater danger."
"I guess it's a risk worth taking. We have to save them. Look…" Henry reached inside his backpack one more time to retrieve the storybook, flipping it open to one of the pages detailing a scene from his grandparents' story – the image of their famously interrupted wedding. He picked up the flashlight and directed the beam onto the page so Killian could see for himself the deterioration that Henry had been witnessing all day. Portions of the intricate text were missing and nearly half of the accompanying image had faded away from the yellowing paper. "Nearly all of the pictures are like this – half of it already vanished since this morning. We're running out of time!"
"I know…" Killian replied, hoping that Henry hadn't noticed his face contorting with yet another wave of agonizing pain shook him. "But who can we trust to help us break the curse?"
"I have an idea of one person who could help us, but you're not gonna like it…"
The crocodile.
Henry wanted to trust the bloody crocodile?
Had the lad gone daft or had he simply lost so much blood that now he was now hallucinating this whole conversation?
"Perhaps we should rethink this, lad…" Killian suggested as he grasped the teen's extended hand and accepted Henry's assistance with getting back on his feet. Every inch of his back seared with the exertion but he was moderately thankful that at least his punctured left shoulder wasn't throbbing as much as before and it seemed that the bleeding had subsided – at least the external bleeding. He wasn't foolish enough to believe a wound that deep had ceased entirely.
"I don't know of anyone else we can turn to," Henry reminded him as he let go of Killian's hand once the pirate was standing on his own accord. He gathered his backpack and slung it onto his shoulders, getting it up and out of the way so he could aid Killian. "I overheard Fiona mention his name while I was spying on her office earlier. I'm pretty sure that it was actually him that she was talking to even though I could only hear her side of the conversation. It definitely sounded like the person she was talking to wasn't affected by the curse either and as far as I had known, only Fiona, Gideon and myself had been spared the memory-altering curse. Since we know that Rumplestiltskin was able to retain his memories under Regina's dark curse by using Mom's name as a trigger, it seems pretty likely that he'd come through his mother's curse unscathed as well. There have to be some perks for being the Dark One after all…"
"You forget that your mother managed to alter my memories with the dark curse that brought us back from Camelot so your theory isn't without flaw. What makes you think that he'd even raise a finger to help us? I'm not particularly one of his favorite persons…"
"Because this is his story too," Henry stated confidently. "If Fiona intends to rewrite everything, Rumplestiltskin's story disappears as well. You've known him for centuries so you definitely know that self-preservation is a huge motivator."
"You do have a point there," Killian agreed as he fought to control his quivering legs, striving to maintain his tenuous balance. It was still a long walk into town and they would have to take great care not to be seen. They'd be safe until they departed the tunnel and ventured into the mine. It wasn't highly likely that they'd encounter someone in the mine, but they had to be cautious. From then on, they'd be exposed so Henry would need to scout ahead at each turn to ensure safe passage to the pawn shop. By now, Emma had undoubtedly discovered that Killian was missing and it wouldn't take long for her to reach the conclusion that Henry had been the one who helped her prisoner escape. She'd have the entire town hunting them both so there would be few havens in which to take refuge. Of course, who would ever suspect that they'd have the audacity to turn to Captain Hook's oldest nemesis for assistance?
They'd find out soon enough.
"How the hell does a prisoner chained to a metal table in a locked cell manage to escape?!" Emma demanded, glaring fervently at her now wide awake prison guard who cowered before her, head hung low as he shivered in the cold basement.
He had no answer for the Sheriff. He only remembered getting sleepy, then waking to find himself wearing only his leopard print boxer shorts and seeing two of the prison cell doors standing wide open. He'd called the Sheriff immediately, reluctantly confessing his transgression that had apparently given a dangerous prisoner a window to escape and he fully expected to have her wrath rained down upon him.
"And how the hell did you manage to sleep through it all?" Emma continued to berate the hapless guard.
"I'm sorry, Sheriff," the guard replied, unable to make eye contact with her as he fully expected to be fired here on the spot. "I really don't know what happened…"
Gideon poked his head into the corridor at that moment, interrupting his colleague's apology as the deputy exited the cell that had previously held a wounded, shackled Killian Jones - who had somehow managed to escape without being seen or heard. "Sorry to interrupt, Sheriff, but I've gone through everything in the cell and I'm afraid that there's nothing here to indicate how the prisoner escaped."
"Damn, he must have had help then. Who here in town might still be loyal to him?" Emma inquired as she momentarily redirected her ire away from the half-naked guard.
"As far as I'm aware, none of his known accomplices have been seen in the area," Gideon responded. "I thoroughly searched his ship after he was captured, but found no indication anyone but Hook had been onboard."
"Well then, get a search party together and start searching! Round up everyone who might have ever been a member of his crew and find that son of a bitch!"
"Yes, Sheriff. I'll call in as many of the reserves as I can locate. What about him?" Gideon gestured towards the unclothed guard.
Emma spun around to unleash her fury upon the guard once again. "Go home. Get dressed and get out there with the search party!" she ordered. "We'll discuss your punishment as soon as Hook is found and dragged back here. Anyone caught helping the prisoner is to be arrested immediately!"
The guard took a fleeting glance down at his bare legs and torso, wanting to ask if he could have something to cover himself with, but he didn't dare ask. Still avoiding eye contact with her, he squeaked out a weak "Yes, Sheriff," as she dismissed him and sent him scurrying up the stairs in his flashy boxers. Public humiliation would be but the first part of his penalty for sleeping on the job.
"We'll find him," Gideon stated with an almost overconfident assurance. "There's no way he could have gotten too far in his condition."
"I suppose that depends on how much assistance he had," Emma countered, letting out a frustrated sigh. "It's bad enough that my kid disobeyed me and didn't go home like he was supposed to and now, on top of that, I have to contend with an escaped murderer because the guard I trusted couldn't keep himself awake!"
"How do you know that Henry didn't go home?" Gideon wondered.
"Your grandmother, Her Honor, the Mayor, ran into him over by the church a little while ago. He told her that he was going to the library…" Emma froze mid-sentence as a horrifying thought popped into her already stressed brain, causing her jaw to go slack. "You don't think…?"
Gideon picked up on what she was thinking and completed her sentence: "That Henry might have been involved somehow?"
"He's been acting weird all day," Emma explained as she massaged her temple absentmindedly, thinking about their disagreement earlier that morning. "In his damaged mind, he doesn't believe that his grandparents are really dead and even tried to convince me that Hook wasn't a killer. How would he have gotten in here though? He's just a kid…"
"So, should we be looking for Henry too?" Gideon asked, already planning to hunt down the boy, but waiting for Emma to give the word.
"Yes," Emma relented. "I've got a bad feeling that wherever we find Henry, we'll find that scoundrel too. No harm is to come to my son though. If you locate him, bring him in, but I will deal with him myself. I am his mother after all."
"What about Hook?"
"Whatever it takes," Emma told him, setting her jaw firmly while her eyes grew darker with building rage as she stared at the open door to her torture chamber. "But the final blow is going to be mine."
#ouat ff#killian jones ff#killian whump#curse of undoings#a little captain cobra#and more cursed emma
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So! This is quite late but I’ve been crazy busy with school and I knew typing all this out would be A Task. This race was about 10,000 times harder than I thought it would be. I thought that I respected the marathon distance going in but it turned out I absolutely did not. My time was quite a bit slower than I was expecting even though I didn’t have an exact goal in mind and my splits were ridiculously positive (pic 7). I’m honestly not disappointed at all though. The marathon is a mean, tough race but I’m even meaner and tougher and that is absolutely something to celebrate. Full race recap under the cut because it’s almost as long as the marathon itself.
- The day before the marathon was pretty much ideal actually. Did my 3 km shakeout run in the morning, made pancakes, lounged around my house, and picked up my bib. My super old family friend/honorary sister was in town to run the half and my mom was running the 5k, so we all went out for delicious pasta the night before along with my boyfriend and my friend’s mom.
- I slept AWFULLY the night before. I lay awake for ages, then slept in short little bursts that probably added up to like 3 hours overall. My cat also woke me up at 5 by biting my feet and I almost tossed him out the window.
- Woke up for real at 6:15, miraculously not tired and not particularly nervous either. I had a bagel with PB and a cup of coffee, put on a huge pile of throwaway clothes over my race outfit, and took an Uber to the start
- I was paranoid about road closures so I gave myself a ton of extra time, but we ended up not having any trouble at all. That meant I got to the start just over an hour early, which was a big problem considering the temperature was a degree or so above freezing
- I waited for my friend to show up, walking around in aimless circles to keep warm. She showed up about 20 minutes early, we took some nice pictures in our 5000 layers, and got into our corrals right around when the gun went off for the elite corral
- This is a FAST race, so my corral was pretty far back and it took about 15 minutes from there to actually cross the line. I was planning on throwing away my fleece, hat, and two pairs of mittens at the start but I ended up keeping them on. I got rid of the mittens and fleece by kilometre 4 and kept the hat until around kilometre 24
- By the time I started, my feet were completely frozen. I spent the first few kilometres wiggling my toes trying to get the feeling back, but I was basically running on ice blocks until the 5k mark
- Other than that though, I felt awesome for the beginning of the race. The energy of the crowd and the other racers were infectious. I was checking my watch every kilometre, and my splits were a bit faster than planned but I didn’t worry too much about reigning it in. I’d been having a bunch of random pains all down my right side all through taper, but I wasn’t feeling anything
- I decided not to count down kilometres or even think about the overall distance until 10k, and I actually did a pretty good job of that. I started having a dull pain in my right hip around 8 km, but other than that I was feeling awesome and determined to enjoy the race for as long as I could
- Between 10k and the halfway mark, things gradually got a bit harder, but I generally still felt in control. My breathing was still good and I was sticking to my schedule for taking energy blocks. But my hip was still nagging and my left hip flexor had joined in as well. The pain was super mild, but I was anxious about it getting worse and that started affecting my mental game in general
- The last time I felt genuinely good was probably around 19 km, right before the half-marathoners split off. We went past a huge cheering station where they were blasting Abba and giving high fives. I was so psyched I actually sang along to most of the chorus of Mamma Mia as I ran past
- Once the half-marathoners split off it got quiet fast. Less than one third of the racers were doing the marathon, so suddenly there were a lot fewer runners and barely any spectators. I was starting to feel sick and my hips were still hurting and I was grappling with the idea of running the complete distance I’d already ran again
- This is where it started getting hard. I’d brought headphones to listen to music, but I wanted to put off using them until I absolutely NEEDED a power-up, so I was pretty much alone with my thoughts until I gave in at 28 km. At this point finishing seemed completely unfathomable and I was starting to wonder what the hell I was doing this for
- The race basically just got harder from here. I was feeling sicker and I started putting off my scheduled energy blocks. I was supposed to take a Gu at 24 km, but I couldn’t even imagine putting it in my stomach. I don’t remember when I started worrying about DNFing again, but it was probably around this point. 28ish km to 32 km was probably the hardest part of the race mentally
- When I finally hit the 32 km mark, things turned around a bit. 32 km was the point last year where I slammed headlong into the wall and dropped out because I couldn’t walk in a straight line or carry a train of thought. So when I got here this time, I realized that even though I felt like absolute shit, I was doing 100 times better than last year. This is when I realized that I probably actually was going to finish
- Even though my mental state improved a tiny bit, my physical state was getting worse and worse. Starting at 32 km, I let myself walk the first minute of every kilometre. This 100% saved me mentally because it gave me something to look forward to every kilometre. It also let me stretch my hips out a bit, which definitely helped physically
- Even with the walking breaks, I was in the absolute worst pain of my life for the last 8 km or so. The only thing stopping me from walking the rest of the way was my desire to be finished the fucking marathon as soon as possible. I wasn’t checking my pace anymore, but I was probably down to around 6:30/km not counting the walking breaks
- Every 900ish metre stretch between walking breaks felt impossible and never-ending, and once I was walking, starting up again after 1 minute was the worst kind of mental challenge. The last few kilometres are pretty hazy in my memory, but I distinctly remember thinking “am I actually going to DNF with less than 2 km to go? IDK. Maybe”
- Finally, finally, I hit 41 km and took my last walking break. That was when I remembered that the total distance was 42.2 km, not just 42. It sounds ridiculous, but the thought of that extra 200 metres was almost more than I could bear as I finished my last walking break
- Every step of that last 1(.2) kilometre was a fight. I was checking my watch every half block and counting down the individual metres. With 600ish metres to go, I saw my mom cheering on the sidelines and almost broke down. She started trying to run with me down the sidewalk, but I discovered later that I’d somehow averaged 4:59/km for the last 800 metres of the race, so she couldn’t keep up with me
- I started seeing signs counting down the last 400 metres and finally accepted that I was definitely going to finish. I took out my headphones to hear the crowd for the last moments, and heard the announcer call my name as I came up on the finish line
- Stepping across the line was the most overwhelming moment of my life. I’d felt so awful for so long, but I’d fought through it. The fact that I DNFed last year and left feeling like such a failure made it even more powerful. As soon as I crossed the line I started full-on weeping, hand over my mouth, sobbing at full volume. Some of it was pain, but most of it was pride and astonishment
- My friend and her mom started calling my name and I walked over to them. Opened my mouth to say hi to them and instead threw up twice directly at their feet, so I guess I can really have no doubt in my mind that I gave the race everything I had
Anyway, this is by far the longest tumblr post I’ve ever written and I’m sure no one’s still reading, so I’ll wrap it up. Four days later, I’m still walking on air over this. My right knee and hip still hurt like a bitch, but I’m happy, and proud, and I ran a FREAKING MARATHON
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The Story of Xanxus
After re-watching episodes 64 and 65, my opinion of the Ninth has dropped. Significantly. Good job Timoteo. A+ parenting right there. I dislike you more than Iemitsu right now. I hope your recovery is long and hard.
There are just some things that don’t quite add up in the Varia arc so I did some digging and paid closer attention to the in between pieces of dialogue throughout the anime and manga. After lots of pondering, I’ve decided that this is basically how the REAL story behind how the battle against the Varia came to be...
Xanxus is a young child. He was born in and grows up in one of the poorest slums in Italy. His primary caretaker and only family member is a single mother who is so mentally ill that she’s delusional. Literally. Sane people have difficulty in poverty enough as it is. Can you just imagine the kind of damage that background alone can have on a person’s psych?
Xanxus was born with the orb flame/flame of wrath, but he didn’t manifest it until he was an older kid. When he shows his mother, she’s convinced that she had a love affair with the boss of the Vongola and that Xanxus is their child. Like, WTF?! She renames her kid (because his first name might not have even been Xanxus with the whole ‘I named him Xanxus because the two X’s prove he’s meant to be Vongola Decimo’ logic) and then just gives him away to an old man, a stranger she claims is his father.
Then what does Timoteo do? He lies. He backs the poor delusional woman’s logic up. Big Mistake #1. He tells Xanxus not only that he's his biological son but lets him think that he can one day succeed him as the Vongola boss. Where is the logic in that? Answer: It must have been for manipulative purposes because there is absolutely NO purely charitable reason why you must adopt a random child on the street that just happens to be endowed with a very powerful flame and fool him into believing a lie about his lineage so that he'll dedicate his life to Vongola.
At this point, Timoteo could have rectified his mistake and taken Xanxus aside as soon as he’s adopted into the Vongola famiglia and explained the true situation to him. Sure, it would have hurt Xanxus a little but Xanxus is very mold-able and impressionable at this age. I can only assume that Xanxus must have been about 9 or 10 years old when he was adopted by the Ninth because Fuuta is also 9 and child Xanxus certainly didn't look younger than Fuuta.
When telling Xanxus’ backstory, Squalo immediately jumps to Xanxus’ time growing up in Vongola and says that he took to the mafia like slipping a hand in a well-fit glove. He was selfish, ruthless, easily angered, and powerful. I’d say, that’s only logical. Growing up in extreme poverty means being in a constant ‘survival-mode’ and ‘got to take care of myself’ state of mind. Food, shelter, and safety means being creative and assertive. I think it’s safe to assume that Xanxus had little to no education while growing up. If he did receive any, it was definitely sub-par. He was thrust into a foreign culture and had to adapt quickly. He had to change the way he talked, his body language, learn social etiquette, master his flame powers. His mother is no longer mentioned so I assume that he never had contact with her again. Despite his willingness to leave his mother, I’d think that, that would also have some impact on his psych as well. A significant adult figure in his life had just left him. She was completely cut out of his life as quick as the snap of his fingers. With the additional lack of a biological father, I’d say that this qualifies Xanxus for psychological issues regarding child abandonment (which is defined by the loss of one or more parent).
Problems that arise from kids who’ve experienced this include:
-low self-esteem
-anxiety and/or anger management issues
-problems regarding attachment...either difficulties forming attachment, or over attaching oneself with fear of being abandoned again
Now, on first glance, Xanxus doesn’t appear to exhibit any of these symptoms with exception to the anger problems. I respectfully disagree.
Xanxus fully embraced his adopted family. He’s busied himself with making himself useful and important in the family. He quickly established his place in the mafia and made every point he could to loudly declare that he was the Ninth’s son, as if needing to constantly reaffirm to everyone and also to himself that he belongs.
He has approximately 7 years to not only catch up but surpass his brothers and peers in education, fighting skills, and leadership skills. That kind of jump only happens through diligence and hard work, no matter how much talent one has. And speaking of talent, Xanxus is a genius. He really puts all of his skills, talents, and energy into helping the famiglia who raised him and saved him from the "trash" of society. Xanxus was raised, having an unhealthy and incomplete understanding of people’s “worth.” His idea is that a person is “worth” more based on social status and achievement. Being the “bastard son of the Ninth” was okay for him because he worked to prove himself as the best of the best and he believed he had the right to the “throne of Vongola” so to speak.
So, now we’ve got a checklist:
-Grew up in slums
-Raised in the mafia...the world of crime...and participates in the darker side of it too (ex: assassinations)
-No trustworthy adults in life...absent biological father, crazy and unreliable mother, mafia boss adopted father who also happened to tell some pretty major lies
-Has abandonment issues
...Yeah, you can bet that Xanxus has serious difficulty in trust and dealing with betrayal. So when he finds out that the truth, how does he react?
Exactly as expected. Everything has crumbled. His entire worldview shattered. He believes he’s worth nothing, that he’s back to being trash again. And his “father.” whom he trusted, lied about his identity, past, and future plans.
Xanxus's anger here is completely understandable. Now a coup? Going a bit overboard for most normal people. The Vongola and especially Xanxus are NOT normal people. If you look at it from the perspective of a 16-year-old teen with a rough past and massive anger management and fear of abandonment issues who's just been betrayed by his "father" and lied to about his place in the mafia family who raised him...yeah. Coup doesn't sound so far fetched after all.
Then when he finally confronts the Ninth face to face, his so-called father tells him that he's going to kill him for his rebellion. Xanxus’ isn’t surprised, angry, or dismayed by that statement at all. Timoteo has just validated how Xanxus perceives the Ninth views him: not as a real son but as a tool to be used and manipulated because he has a powerful flame and then disposed of when the cost of keeping him around is too high. Then the Ninth freezes him in ice for 8 years. Timoteo likes to tell everyone that Xanxus was just "asleep" for eight years. Are you kidding me?! Your "sleeping" technique damaged your adopted son so much it left permanent scars covering his entire body. You think that didn't hurt like hell? Tsuna encased him in ice for only a few minutes and when the ice melted, Xanxus collapsed to the ground. His strength was so gone that his Varia guardians had to physically put the ring on his finger. All this after only a few minutes in that Zero Point Breakthrough technique and this hasn't even touched on the psychological damage that Xanxus has been through. I’m pretty sure that seeing Tsuna's Zero Point Breakthrough technique, so soon after he was JUST freed, was really traumatizing for Xanxus. It was the technique that got him infuriated and lashing out at the teen when both were already exhausted from fighting.
Think the story can’t get much worse? Think again. After 8 years of being frozen and locked away in the dark basement, the ice is melted and Xanxus is released. There’s ongoing debate between fans about Xanxus’ age. Was he 16 or 24 when he was frozen? I’m going with 16. Yes, I know that Squalo says that he “grew into adulthood” but this is the same story where Tsuna and his guardians call a 15-year-old Lambo, Adult Lambo, too. The term “adult” is rather loosely applied in the KHR universe.
Moving on! This is the part where I got ticked off because I made some additional connections. Mammon says there were 7 dark spots in a circle and that he/she had no idea who actually released Xanxus. The first time watching this series through, I wasn't really paying attention and thought that the Varia members had stolen the rings and freed their boss. Turns out that's not the case. It's even worse. It's never explicitly revealed in the anime and manga who released Xanxus but my bet is that it was the Ninth. As the current boss of the Vongola, it's only safe to assume that he and his guardians inherited the complete Vongola rings from their predecessors and therefore he'd still have the full set. Plus, he knows all about the Zero Point Breakthrough technique so it's also safe to assume that he's the only one who knows how to counter it. So now we have the Ninth melting the ice after nearly a decade and what do you know? He tells Xanxus that he needs to do something to redeem himself. He needs to reunite with his Varia officers and go to Japan to challenge the REAL Decimo canidate. They can't kill them and they can't be too harsh on them because otherwise the battles will end before they can get to the Sky ring battle, which is the most important one that MUST happen for it all to work. Come on, you don't really think that the Varia DIDN'T hold back on their strength when fighting some talented but newbie civilian teenagers? Xanxus, probably still mentally a teenager, having been freed from an ice prison, and desperate at a chance for one last shot to become Decimo, accepts the deal. Unbeknownst to Xanxus, there was never a chance for him. Timoteo sets this whole rings battle up knowing exactly how it's going to end. He knowingly created the battles knowing that the outcome would be his adopted son, collapsed on the ground with more scars and spewing blood from his mouth and nose whilst Tsuna and the rest of his guardians would be exhausted and on the brink of death. After the battle and it's clear that Xanxus has no chance at being Vongola Decimo because the ring rejects him, he gives up the rights and the Cervello have a private conversation with Xanxus lying on the ground in defeat. The Cervello the sole supervisors of the entire battles...from an Agency which serves only directly under the Ninth! It's a really brief scene but this interaction with the Cervello had always puzzled me previously. With the light that the Ninth is the one who freed Xanxus and set up this whole Varia battle fight to manipulate Xanxus into thinking he might still have one last chance at leadership and creating a driving force to make Tsuna to accept his role as the future Decimo, this makes so much more sense: Xanxus: It's...gone...according to...your wishes...you were...right...are you...happy now? Cervello: You say that, but...we do not have wishes nor do we predict anything. Everything was already decided. Your role in this is over. Xanxus: ... ...that cunning old man... Cervello: Thank you for doing your part. With this, the ring contest battle has now ended. And to think that the Ninth had the gall to play the victim here. And you know what's sad? He does actually see himself as the one who is burdened with heavy choices that must be made for the "good of the family." Timoteo, I hate your guts, you manipulative old coot. Go retire already!
#xanxus#character analysis#behind the cradle affair#khr#katekyo hitman reborn#timoteo#cervello#zero point breakthrough: first edition#psychology#the real story
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8 // One year
Uhm hi.
Has it been a year already, lol? I know, little me. I have been neglecting this blog for quite some time now and honestly I knew that. I just didn’t want to face reality.. my reality by writing things down: my problems, regrets, insecurities all of them. It felt disgusting just aknowledging them so I avoided confrontation. But hey, in my defense, covid has been going on the whole year and 2020 was a big fat mess. So many things happened, changed, escalated and barely had the time and energy and strength to face all those problems and changes.
2020 was gonna be THE year, i said. So many times. Trying to tell myself that there’s no need to be scared. No need to back down, because everyone goes through high school graduation, university, adulthood. It’s completely normal to panic a bit because in the end you’re gonna manage. You’re capable of so many great things. I told myself, or rather lied to myself? I don’t even know at this point. 2020 was memorable. Yes. But in a good way? aboslutely not! :’) And just a short disclaimer. I know how damn serious the virus is, but let me just rant about my life for once, because it’s hard on me, too.
Schools just suddenly closed down 2 weeks before my graduation. My friends and my whole grade in general did not get to experience the legendary “last week” where we’d prank the whole school. Everyone before us did, though. Pretty unfair. I mean we went to school for so many years and that was gonna be our HIGHLIGHT! Marking our GRADUATION. Making epic MEMORIES. Well, fuck that, I guess. Didn’t happen! :D Instead, we got 1 month quarantine where we had to study for finals. For unsure finals. For “we don’t know if you have to take exam yet” - finals. But we had to study, study for finals that may not even happen. That were some horrible ass weeks of studying, crying, panicking, stressing out, questioning myself, more crying and a lot of anime, lmao. And then it was May and I took my exams and I did pretty okay-ish. It wasn’t the best I could’ve done but I mean, considering the situation back then and how lazy I really am, it was okay. At least, for me... kind of? Honestly speaking, I knew it was bad. My grades used to be GREAT but now they were just good but for my parents that meant failed. And did they not hide their disappointed in that, no. They actually went ahead and told me in my face how absolute horrible my finale grades were and that theyre absolutely not satisfied with them. Thanks, mom. It’s not like I didn’t know that. Sorry for not being able to go into Med school like U wished. But it was hard on me, too. Comparing myself to my friends who despite this damn situation still managed to get the perfect score in every damn subject. Am I even allowed to use the pandemic as an excuse or is it really just me who sucks at everything. It’s not like not being able to go outside without mask and 1.5m social distancing was helping me in any way. It’s not like the constans pressure of my parents wasn’t enough. If not Med School, then Law, they said. And funny enough, I could’ve gone there but then suddenly remembered how I applied to Psych School in December 2019, whoops. Why, you ask? Because my mom already pressured me into looking up universities in goddamn 2019 and so I went ahead and applied to a school in aneighboring country, because going as far as possible was basically the aim. Psych was never my dream, I mean yeah, it’s super interesting (and spoiler: I am enjoying studying it a lot.) but I never actually considered a profession in that area. Not because I didn’t see myself there, but I didn’t see myself ANYWHERE at all. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I had no passions, goals or dreams. Sounds sad, but the Internet assured me, I wasn’t only one so thumbs up to us guys. Anyway, so I applied to that University and in the middle of finals I got accepted, suprisingly! Didn’t expect that and for sure didn’t remember that LMAO. I told my parents and they were not pleased. My dad couldn’t understand why I wanted to study Psychology ??? The fuck u wanna do with that, he asked. And I didn’t know what to answer, because hell no, I don’t know, bro. I just applied to move out from home. Fun fact: my household is not that toxic, just stereotypical asian strict parents who love the idea of med school a little too much. But I still went there, even if they disagreed but I mean they cannot change the fact that my grades weren’t good enough for med school, and even if could’ve gone to Law school, I DECLINED. 100% sure I’m not made to defend anyone in court. Probably woulda start crying or something..
And so I graduated, had a weird graduation ceremony in our P.E hall (?? idek lmao) and went to university 2 months later in september. Funny story. LMAO. Seriously, things happened in such a fast pace that I wasn’t able to properly accept the fact that I am no longer a high school student, and just started my new path?!?!?!?! Wtf?? stop!? Months and Months went by and I was emersed in studying and exams and deadlines. And all of that online. Via Zoom. Great. Nice University student life. No parties, no real life lectures, no making friends in the cafeteria or any sort of actual experiences like those. Great. Second lockdown, and third lockdown - oh there’s a vaccine! Yey! Oh no, wait. There are mutation of the virus. Not great. :’) And that my friends was 2020. The year I turned 18. What a wonderful start into adulthood <3
And now, it’s already 2021. And tomorrow I turn 19. And im fucking scared. And sad. 1. Scared because I don’t wanna age and become old and knowing i havent accomplished one single thing in life and instead rather than turning 19 i turned into a failure and 2. Sad because I’m 18, do not have a drivers license, never went clubbing for adults, graduated in the most disgusting and sad way possible (and most unmemorable way i dont even wanna think about that musty gymnasiums hall lmao) and pretty much did nothing cool in my 18th life and thats just how my young adult life’s gonna be! :DDD nice guys.
Ok, this sounds pretty depressive and petty and sad and lowkey annoying but idk how i am supposed to sugarcoat that.... if i find a way, i’ll come back but until then, stay safe
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Crafting Journal - Fabric Dye
This weekend, I took it upon myself to learn how to brew up my own black fabric dye. Why, you ask, when pre-dyed clothes and threads are available in such a bounty of colors already? I’ll tell you why:
That thread is VISIBLE and it is BLACK and the linen yarn I’m using for thread comes in every color of the rainbow EXCEPT THE ONE I NEED.
...Ok I can’t keep up the angry act any longer, I was actually really psyched for an excuse to brew up this dye. Turns out you can in fact concoct a simple black dye using only materials that Geralt has in his backpack: namely green vitriol (aka ferrous sulfate) and tannic acid (available to you from a lab supply company and to Geralt from those oak trees in the background). To the surprise of absolutely no one who knows me IRL, I have a friend who was more than happy to supply me with a bit of both. One trip to the thrift store later to procure some extra-large pots, and I had everything I needed.
I followed this procedure to dye the linen:
Bring 3 gallons of water and 3 T washing soda to a boil
Add linen and let simmer for ~2 hours
Dissolve 15 g tannic acid in a pot of warm water
Steep linen in tannic acid bath for 1 hour
Dissolve 45 g iron sulfate powder in another pot of warm water
Steep linen in iron sulfate bath for ~30 min
The first bath in tannic acid didn’t do much of anything, just stained the linen a pale brown. I was prepared to be underwhelmed, until I dipped the fabric into the muddy-brown iron solution, and... magic! The fabric turned black instantly on contact with the iron, gradually getting darker the longer I left it to steep.
In the end, I found that each of the fabrics I dyed turned out a slightly different shade of grey. Scraps from Geralt’s shirt turned a dark blueish grey, while leftover material from the braies became a lighter slate. The linen thread came out the darkest of all, leaving me with a skein of linen in just the right color for the upcoming wool coat.
#crafting#cosplay#ursine armor#workinprogress#witcher#witcher 3#dye#dyeing#fabricdye#handmade#household chemistry
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Anyone have information on the repeated long term use of Topamax (Topiramate) in correlation with memory loss and its permanency?
[c/ped from my FB]
I know this is a SUPER long shot as this is kinda specific...but..........
I forgot about the Topamax side effects........
So this is my...either 5th or 6th time being on Topamax for a long term period in my life. At least...this is the beginning of a long term period for me with it again (it's supposed to be...if it works out). I know it works for both my optical AND chronic migraines. . .my Metropolol was working fine, but will always choose any med over a blood pressure med because my BP is chronically low and adding a BP med is always dangerous and last night in the hospital, my BP was so low that they had to give me a bag of fluid and up my BP a bit through mere time in order to make me even eligible for the morphine shot. It was either 63/81 or 81/63. I think the latter...I can never remember if the higher number goes on top or not. But those were the numbers and one of them is supposed to be in the triple digits in order to have a "normal" BP and mine never is, but it normally isn't THAT low but I had taken my Metropolol before coming in and they said it was getting scary-level and since your BP drops (along with everything) as you're sleeping...it's even scarier since I was awake at that take and I take my BP med (for chronic and optical migraines---both debilitating) at night before going to sleep when my BP will drop even more. So...switching to anything different than a BP med has added benefits for me as someone with chronically low BP.
I can't even tell you how many times I wasn't eligible to receive my own goddamn medication in psych wards for hours on end because my BP was "too low" for it to be "safe" to give me my OWN MEDICATIONS. So they'd just have to take it again every 15 minutes until my BP was high enough for me to receive meds. They'd literally wake me up at the crack of fucking dawn BEFORE the other patients (which, if you've ever been in a ward, you know that you have to wake up and be out of your room at scary early hours) so I could walk laps down the halls in order to up my BP enough to reach just right at the limit to be eligible for my medications......some of which I needed to survive. They would literally withhold medication which resulted in life-threatening results because my BP was always too low. You'd think this would be illegal, but... Well, frankly, if you think this is illegal, then that really shows you've never been in a ward before in your life....lolololol.
ANYWAYS
So the side effects I've experienced the worst of while on Topamax are two things that have really impacted my life immensely and I'm terrified of: 1) Memory loss, both long term and short term, as well as altering memories and pulling my memories out of chronological order and 2) An inability to be articulate. Somehow I can never word/phrase things correctly or find the right words or even the correct synonym to a common word I use in my every day life... Sometimes I even forget the most basic of words that I use every single day...Or I forget how to form a complete sentence.
These are both after long term use. It usually doesn't happen during the first month or so. But... Number 1 was irreversible. I still have issues with that to this day and I still struggle with it because of the Topamax (aka Topirimate). Number 2... That went away after I stopped taking it. In fact, number not only went away, but I have become MORE articulate over the years and have expanded my vocabulary immensely.
What I'm scared of is... Part 1... The memory loss... It didn't stop when I stopped taking it, obviously. But it never worsened. I'm wondering if I take it long term like I am trying to do now...at the highest doses possible (starting at 25/25 morning/night for one week than 50/50 until I can titrate to 100/100 morning/night after 3 weeks on the 50/50 and possibly titrate more after that because of the nature and severity of my chronic migraines and the pure nature of my optical ones). I'm just straight up starting at 50/50. I don't care to spend a week on the 25/25. I just don't. I've been on this med too many times to care about titration.
Anyways... I'm scared that the memory loss will get worse. Like...to the point of dementia or even a medicine-induced Alzheimer's. Because...I have been told by many doctors and even neurologists that my memory will never return to how it was prior to Topamax. They took me off of it many times because of the 2nd thing...my loss of speech. Sometimes I couldn't even form coherent sentences...which was scary.
But we are choosing Topamax instead of something else because I already know it works and I've been on it a million times with every possible psych med so I know it won't interfere with anything and my BP will be fine and because I'm going to be spending a while....who knows how long....figuring out what's wrong with my psych meds and what to do about them. . .which I will be meeting with a different eval team for the same program only in my area on Tuesday. And probably get an appointment that same week. So...
I'm not TOO worried about number 2 because I know it will come back to me if I stop taking it. And I'm sort of...expecting and preparing myself for it. . .a loss of ability to be articulate verbally and write flowing-ly and such. My strongest suits, sometimes. I'm expecting it and preparing for it by creating a pocket dictionary and a virtual one on my phone that will have key words I use on the daily and things I think of that I use in casual conversation that I begin to forget AS I forget them. Coz number 2 happens gradually. Or, at least, it has all the other times.
Number 1 terrifies me because I HAVE to pass the MCAT.... I HAVE to be able to remember a fuckton of stuff for tests for my major...and I have to be able to recall anything on a moments notice to be a doctor in the ER in general, nevertheless a surgeon.
If my memory gets any worse, there's absolutely no hope of me ever passing a test again in my life, even if I know the subject matter. I expect to be on Topamax again for about a year. Maybe longer. I'm guesstimating 1-3 years... Coz it took 7 years to find the right psych meds for me at the right dosages. We have the right combo of psych meds...so we just need to play with the dosages...so I'm assuming that's gonna take at least a year, if not 2-3 years. So that's why I'm saying 1-3. I'm gonna be on Topamax until my psych meds stabilize and then I'm hopefully gonna switch back to the Metropolol.
Has anyone had extensive experience with Topamax? Not just...a one time "Oh yeah same. Like I lost my memory from it once and never took it again" sort of deal. But like...multiple times like me. Like I said, this is my 5th or 6th time taking it long term. Long term being 1 year or longer for each time. Does anyone have experience with topamax and this long of a term and like...intermittently like this?
The memory loss/alteration is irreversible if it gets any worse. And I can't afford for it to get any worse...
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