#like mother like daughter i suppose

[justreckin]

But why are we singing?

[monets-pixels]

let's head back to the Whimsys! Wren was supposed to be teaching Avery to drive nut I found them on a random bench reading?

[beanzabear]

ok lesbians (only you by the platters beeteedubs)

more doodles

[serpentface]

Scenes from The Baby Wars Part One: The First One

[Hibrides never wanted to be a mother (though the concept of childbearing has always occurred to her as 'inevitable and necessary'), underwent very severe post-partum depression, never really bonded with the infant, and was extremely uncomfortable with nursing her (they had a wet nurse who covered most of it).

Brakul ended up being the Designated Housewife throughout Erubi's infancy and was effectively the only member of the household providing parental care, was Extremely bitter with Hibrides for not really wanting anything to do with her daughter (among other things), and was raised in a context where fathers allowing their infants to comfort nurse on them is a standard practice (which is not widely conceptualized as a Thing men can do in the Wardi cultural sphere and comes off as bizarre to the rest of his household).

These combined factors lead to tense standoffs where he looms behind Hibrides trying to guilt her into Feeding The GodDamn Baby while looking, from her perspective, like he's trying his absolute hardest to breastfeed.]

[roots-symphony]

what's so interesting is that agatha and nicky clearly had their cons well-oiled, and at the end it seems they even started turning their song into a part of it as well, like i don't think that was the first time nicky sang that song for an audience and they used it to lure witches (i do think it's the first time that it /technically/ didn't work), and how after nicky died it continued to gain popularity and be so well-known it became a legend, and along with that agatha being known as the only survivor of the road and people (like billy) seeking her out to walk it or just for knowledge of it. and i think that had been the idea when they first started using it as a con. making it so they no longer had to travel and scavenge, using it as a lure to bring the witches to them in order to keep nicky alive, but only one small misstep and rio got him anyway

and then thinking about how lorna, who had a generational curse placed upon her family that is going to kill both her and her daughter and who desperately wants to see her daughter survive, heard this song and created her own version to use as a protection spell for her daughter and, like agatha did before her, she made her version so well-known and so popular that years and years after death it's still protecting her daughter, until ultimately her daughter was finally able to use it to break the curse and save herself

idk just.. they're like two sides of the same coin, or distorted mirrors of each other

agathas love was so powerful and so strong that death gave nicky time

lornas love was so powerful and so strong that the ballad gave alice time and even freed her

if nicky hadnt been taken that night, could it have eventually freed him as well? rio said agatha used the dark magic of the darkhold to hide herself from rio, so was that the end goal? they'd continue to lure witches to both keep nicky alive and to have agatha become powerful enough to forever keep them hidden?

[strqyr]

oh my god.

ozpin tells team strq his "great and terrible secret" (but not the whole truth), and once raven knew, there was no going back; she needed to know more. and with each discovery—i.e. her search for answers was not a one time deal, but bits and pieces here and there—, the more horrifying the world became...

when yang learns about raven, tai would tell her some things but not everything, and ever since, the question of why did she leave? wouldn't leave yang's mind. she didn't know the answer, but she was determined to find it out, eventually finding a clue that she thought could lead her to it, or maybe even her mother.

instead, what she finds at the end of the road are those burning red eyes...

of grimm. of salem, perhaps, once upon a time. history doesn't repeat, but it often rhymes.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

A Jules and Vern Christmas

A time travel story for the Christmas Challenge at @inklings-challenge. This is a follow-up to "Jules and Vern"--a very short piece that explains how the time travel works, so you may want to read that one first.

*

Vernon looked up from his writing in a daze. The papers spread across his kitchen table, the books piled on shelves and chairs across his sparsely-furnished apartment, seemed suddenly unfamiliar. Outside, it was nearly dark, and a light snow shower was falling.

He'd lost track of time--gotten too deep into his writing. This draft of his article was due by the first of the year, and there was so much worth writing about now that he had practical experience--not just theoretical knowledge--of time travel.

He had his new patroness to thank for that. His one and only time travel cruise--paid for with his life savings--had brought him in contact with one of the wealthiest heiresses on the planet, who'd adopted him like a stray cat. She'd guided him through the cruise and even paid to extend his trip. A man in his position couldn't refuse gifts like that--but neither could he repay them.

He looked at the silver-wrapped package sitting on the edge of the table. It seemed silly, giving presents to a woman who could buy him a thousand times over without blinking an eye. He could mail the package next month. Send a nice little note keeping things purely professional.

But it was Christmas. After roaming through history with Juliette, he'd come to consider her a sort of friend. This deserved a personal touch.

He put away his manuscript, seized the package, and left on his errand before he could talk himself out of it.

*

The high-rise hotel, sleek and silver, towered over the squat brown-brick historic buildings of the rest of the street. Bedecked in golden lights, the building looked like a Christmas candle, like a queen among peasants.

Vernon felt like a peasant as he stood in the golden light coming through the glass of the revolving door. A doorman in crisp livery—blue with gold trimmings, a finer suit than anything Vernon had ever worn—took one look at the threadbare elbows of Vernon’s jacket and the holes in his woolen gloves and growled, “Move it along.”

The doorman’s square head reminded Vernon of some of the meaner-looking idols he’d seen on ancient temples. This face would have been a guardian of the underworld, ready to smite the unworthy with the wrath of the gods.

No, he scolded himself. It was the face of a doorman. Of a hotel. Vernon hadn’t walked through ancient battlefields to turn tail because a hotel employee scowled at him.

Vernon held up his package—a silver rectangle. “I’ve a delivery for Miss Juliette—“

The doorman's voice was like something that would have come from one of those stone idols. “She doesn’t take unmarked deliveries.”

Vernon felt like he’d run face-first into a wall. He stepped back and tried to gather his wits. Snowflakes fell down his collar. "If you'll just--"

From behind, a languid female voice drawled, "Vern? Is that you?"

Juliette stood behind him, wrapped in black fur. Her black hat—bedecked with white feathers and an enormous red flower—was wide enough to cover both of them, and her heels were so high that Vernon wondered how she’d managed more than two steps on the icy streets.

Juliette took Vernon's arm and told the doorman, "Relax, Pete, he's with me."

The doorman gave a skeptical stare.

Juliette's laugh sparkled. “Oh, very well.” She tugged Vernon by the arm. “We’ll roam the streets.”

Juliette took Vernon down the sidewalk, past the stores of this wealthy shopping district. These shops were nothing compared to the astonishing height of the modern hotel, but their wares were so rich Vernon half-feared he'd be charged a fee just for looking.

Juliette strode through the snowy streets with perfect confidence, never looking at a shop, never stumbling in her heels. “What brings you here, my darling little scholar?”

Compared to the wares being sold just outside her door, Vernon's offering seemed pathetic, but there was no help for it now.

He held out the package. "I brought a gift.”

Juliette stopped and tipped back her hat so she could look him in the face. “Gift?”

Could he call this a gift when her world meant so much more by the name? Jewels, cars, vacations—those were gifts. This was—

“A...small token,” he amended. “In honor of the holiday."

"Holiday?" Juliette seemed truly perplexed. At last, she laughed, low and languid. "Oh, Christmas. How quaint!"

Her laugh made Vernon bristle. Not for the first time, he wondered if she'd ever had a heart.

"I ought to have known you celebrated," she said. “It's so earnest and wholesome--like you."

“You don’t celebrate?”

“I haven’t paid attention in years.”

“Why?”

“When you’ve experienced every single Christmas in history, it gets rather dull.”

“Every—”

“Christmas cruises. Some time travelers try to hit every Christmas Day in history. They get so insufferable about it.”

Not for the first time, Vernon’s mind swam at the unimaginable wealth this implied.

Juliette said, “I decided against the full set. It’s just not worth it. The first one’s off-limits, of course, and then there's nothing really interesting until the Arians show up. But even in the most exciting years, it's all variations of the same thing, isn't it? Food and fires and presents and songs and various states of inebriation. There's only so much of that kind of thing one can take."

Vernon's chest burned--a bit of shame, a lot more anger. He tucked the silver-wrapped package beneath his arm. "I'm sorry I wasted your time," he said, turning away.

Juliette grabbed his arm. "Wait!” The languid tone had been replaced by genuine alarm. “Don't listen to my nonsense. It was kind of you to think of me."

Her eyes, amber in the streetlight, held some deep spark that Vernon had never seen before. A hint of genuine feeling. She was truly afraid of being alone. Vernon felt a pang of pity.

He handed her the gift.

She tore off the wrapping and uncovered a hardback book. The crimson cover glowed like an ember against the black of her furs.

"The first copy of my latest work," Vernon said. It didn’t sound so pathetic when he put it that way. "A treatise upon the interactions of parallel time streams, supplemented by observations from our travels."

She turned the book in her gloved hands, looking at it from all angles. “It looks disgustingly academic.”

"Exceedingly so."

She grinned. “I’m delighted, and I’ll never read it.

Vernon relaxed into a smile. "I didn't think you would. But I thought you deserved a copy all the same."

She put the book into a massive handbag. "I feel I ought to have a gift for you."

Vernon laughed. "A time cruise is a gift I could never repay.”

"Would you like another one?" Juliette asked.

Vernon stepped back, his hands held before him. "I couldn't accept such--"

"Just a short one. A cheap Christmas trip. Horribly touristy. Everyone and their mother heads to the Victorian era for a proper Dickens Christmas. The place is crawling with time travelers."

Vernon thought about the book in Juliette's bag, and his mind lit up with a new theory. "That would explain the ghost stories--"

She pointed at him, her eyes bright. "See? That's the mind that could make even that kind of Christmas interesting again."

It was flattering, and tempting, and yet--

"I think you're missing the point," Vernon said.

“Am I?” Juliette drawled, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes,” Vernon said firmly. “You don't need to run off and watch a Christmas that's already happened. You need to experience this one."

She waved a dismissive hand. "I've seen a thousand like it."

Vernon wondered how literal that was. How many Christmases had she traveled to--?

He pulled his mind back to the point. "I'm not sure you've seen any Christmas. You've seen parties, feasting, carols, but you haven't seen Christmas. The reason for the celebration. I'm not sure you can see it."

“I know," she said. "That’s why I need you.”

Snow fell onto her expensive furs, white against the black. A cold breeze ruffled the flower on her hat. She was a fashion plate, the model of luxury--and she looked so alone. All the money in the world, able to buy anything she wanted, go to any place or time she desired on a moment's notice--and she had no one to spend Christmas with.

He took her hand in his, tattered wool against sleek leather. "Then I'll come with you. But not to Victorian Christmas. To this one."

She raised an eyebrow “The time travel expert is turning down a chance to time travel?”

“Gladly."

"You'll never get anywhere in your career if you keep turning down opportunities like this."

"I'll take the risk."

She looked at their joined hands, then shifted her grip to turn it into a handshake. “You have a deal.”

Snow fell faster, thick white flakes. The shops along the street began turning off the lights in their windows. In the distance, church bells sounded.

Vernon inclined his head toward it. “We can start there.”

As the snow fell and the bells rang, Vernon tightened his grip on Juliette’s hand and pulled her down the street. In the lamplight, her eyes held a spark of something that looked a little bit like joy.

[stitchwraith-stingers]

wake up babe new fop oc just dropped...... diversity win, old guy turns into comically depressed godkids pet ferret

[askaceattorney]

Dear Anonymous,

I haven't adopted anyone! Mods, what in the world are they talking about?

.......

Dear lord god almighty.

THEY ARE MY EMPLOYEES! MY ASSISTANTS! Are you going to call Gumshoe my adopted son now? By your logic, you're claiming Ema and Kay are my adopted daughters when they have never stepped into my home, eaten off of my table, or called me their father? The only girl I've ever adopted is my dog, Pess!

(The logistics you all will go to. Honestly!)

- Miles Edgeworth

[teabutmakeitazure]

ain't no way this random aunty (neighbour) started lecturing me to marry a guy of the same nationality as me because not doing so is "wrong"

[faaun]

procrastination is starting to have its consequences finally

[qlala]

so i think the best way to do a coldflash au of the greatest musical of our time, mamma mia, would be—yes i’m aware it’s 3 a.m., why do you ask—

anyway, the best way to do it would be like, a morbid dark comedy take on it where barry’s not trying to find his father, he’s trying to find the person who framed his father. for his mother’s murder. so he’s like ‘okay i’ve reviewed all the case notes, and i’ve narrowed it down to these three men. also, unrelated, iris and eddie, you don’t mind if i invite three people to your wedding last-minute, right?’

and the three men can be like, harrison wells, eobard thawne, and of course, leonard snart

and barry has sophie’s protagonist attitude of “i’ll just know which one it is when i see him,” except obviously, he doesn’t. harrison wells is an asshole, eobard thawne is a creepy asshole, and leonard snart is… flirting with him?

(i have zero notes on the “does your mother know that you’re out” scene from the mamma mia! movie. just do that again, but angrier, because barry isn’t sure if len is taunting him over his mother’s death or just poking fun at their age gap. but it should be exactly as horny)

len would be the first to catch on to what’s going on, because he knows doc allen from iron heights and puts it together, and he would be impressed at what a ballsy idea it was if he wasn’t too busy being mad at barry for what a stupid fucking idea it was instead, inviting the man who killed his mother to a wedding he’s in, to what? give him a shot at slitting barry’s throat in his sleep next?

if that happens, iris will probably cancel this wedding that len fully intends on crashing, so naturally his only option is to follow around iris’s very stupid, very cute best man for the next three days, just to keep him from getting murdered by whichever of the other two men did kill his mother. and, since that includes the previously-mentioned threat of barry getting killed in his sleep, well… he’ll just have to talk his way into barry’s bed so he can keep an eye on him overnight, too

[crazyhickofftheirrocker]

Ok I was really hoping they wouldn't go for the whole 'jump (not so) straight in only for someone to get cold feet' trope but my god the pay off after next week better be worth it.

It's too early in the day to feel this much

[scamera-writes]

Inspired by and partner prose to Jamaica Kincaids' Girl

Today is transgender day of remembrance💙 I love you all and please please stay

[agnesandhilda]

I work to support my family. like, in the literal sense. my mother's pay as a schoolteacher(!) is not enough to support her me and my brother so she regularly takes +$100 dollars out of my checking account just to afford groceries. she's very insistent on repaying it when she's able, but we both know that this is a necessity for us. we don't discuss the arrangement much---she is nothing if not ashamed to have to lean on her young daughter for support and I am nothing if not unwilling to ask her about it, which imo just makes it more stressful on my end. I carry a level of responsibility in my household that is not negotiated or clearly set out for me because of the same financial/class strain and shame that makes me having a job and earning an income necessary to my family. this pseudo-breadwinner status also substantially intensifies the resentment I feel towards my brother, who has a history of episodes of explosive rage (like our father) and who has further increased the burden on our already-poor finances several times (by breaking a door in our rental house, stealing from our mother, and taking one of our cars without warning at night and driving it until it broke down. the car alone set us at least two thousand dollars back). and my brother is like, mentally ill. I get it! I know that! but so am I! I'm young and upset and on top of that I carry the weight of being the second adult in the household! and you don't see me stealing and screaming and breaking things! anyway last night I was feeling especially resentful of my brother due to insomniamisery (which makes me more upset in general) and today I asked my mother if, since my brother is employed again, she also expects him to contribute his wages to keeping our house running, and she said that she doesn't. because he has no money. because he spends it all as soon as he earns it. he has a higher hourly wage than me. I save money specifically so enough will be available to my mother if she needs it, and I have done this since I took on the second-breadwinner role. I don't even know if my brother knows I do this. it would be awkward to tell him, yes, embarrassing to admit that your pay as a schoolteacher is so dogshit because of a cruel and awful government that you need to supplement your income with that of your children to stay afloat, but is it better when you do it to your daughter?

[adm-starblitzsteel-4305]

Assembling my Mosura brainrot here...

So, Godzilla would be flabbergasted because this Mothra he meet in Egypt was actually the KOTM Mothra's mother. I mean, right.

In the epilogue of GxK...

His Queen, the KOTM Mothra would've been really shocked after Godzilla talked to her about missing her so much, and it really confused the hell out of Mothra. However, another Mothra? And then she demands him to travel beyond the Hollow Earth, with the assistance of Kong of course (they're friends now).

And guess what, KOTM Mothra did cry out for the love of Kaiju, this Mothra in Hollow is actually her MOTHER.

What's even embarassing is that Godzilla realizing that this was his mother-in-law. Oh boy, he will be having more questions to Mothra Prime (if that's what I had intended to say that name); judging by the fact that he almost flirted at her and she was unfazed in the Egypt fighy scene. 😐

Give Mothra and her mum some time to talk, while Godzilla and Kong are just...chilling right there...