#ms creative sense

[trainwrrck]

I'm more and more starting to think that Gemma and Irving worked together against Lumon and that's why when somehow her identity was found out she had to be disposed of and Lumon just decided to kill two birds with one stone by also using her for their experiments.

[hellfirenacht]

Anomaly Chapter 7

Fic Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who’s not named Eddie Munson.

Chapter Summary: Eddie gets close to you, and you sacrifice your dignity.

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, one-sided enemies to lovers, one-sided pining, miscommunication trope, anxious-ish!Reader, fem!Reader, Reader is not described, no use of y/n, Rise of Hellfire characters

Word Count: 4.2k words

Master List

Author Note: Okay, look. There's not a lot of Eddie in this chapter but this is setting up a LOT of things I have planned for this story. This is a load baring chapter.

Your wrist had ached all day, and you blamed the weather. What was originally promised to be a mild spring day had turned into a rather warm and stormy one. Normally, you loved this kind of weather (as long as there was no tornado warning), but with the pain in your cast it only annoyed you. 

In Ms. Benson’s class, your mood was dampened further as your tests were passed back. You didn’t need to look at it to know that it wasn’t going to help you with your grade in class. You tried to pay attention in class, you really did. But no matter how much you stared at the book you were all supposed to be reading, the more your mind drifted to other matters. How could you get Eddie to let you at least sit in on a Hellfire meeting? How could you thank Stacy for sacrificing her favorite makeup shop while you two let the heat die down? You really didn’t have an interest in Spring Day but you really wanted to spend more time with Eddie. 

You wrote down character ideas, occasionally glancing at Eddie. You ran through each class and race in your mind, trying to come up with different combinations. You were leaning towards elf or half-elf, and a more magical class but maybe you should try something with brute strength? Or maybe something more complicated to impress Eddie?

Okay, no, that was a bad idea. Stealing and learning the game was pathetic enough, you had to make sure you were at least doing part of this for yourself. And there was the problem, you were a little overwhelmed with choices on what kind of character you’d make if you were allowed in Hellfire. 

When the bell rang you had written out every single combination of the class and race list, marking the ones you thought would be most interesting. The rest of the page was filled with dumb joke characters. 

They were stupid, but it was important to get the stupid out. The harder you tried to think of what you might actually want to play (not that you could anyway) the more blank your mind became. Sometimes, having too much creative freedom was stifling. 

And so, Fighter Betty of the Crocker clan, the Wizard TAB, and Ziggy Stardust the Druid, were shoved into your backpack, between the pages of the handbook you were carrying around when the bell rang. If anything, they amused you and that’s all that would matter. 

You took your time when the bell rang, trying to figure out a way to talk to Eddie or say hi or make any sort of small talk. 

Why was it that you didn’t have this problem with anyone else in this stupid town?!

You were so focused on thinking about Eddie, that you completely missed that he was standing right in front of you.

“Uh- what?” you blinked, realizing now that words were coming out of those very pretty lips of his. 

“Do you need help with your books?” Eddie asked slower, pointing to your backpack. You couldn’t tell if he was talking slow because he thought you were an idiot, or because he smelled so subtly like weed. 

“Yes. Yeah, yes.” you tried to get your mouth to work. You tried to pretend he was Stacy or... shit, you didn’t have any other friends here. 

Eddie grabbed your bag and you followed him out the door to your locker again. What a strange sense of deja vu. 

“How’d you do on the test?” He asked as you opened your locker. 

You tensed and shrugged. “About as well as I thought I’d do. You?” 

Eddie shifted in his spot. “Yeah, about the same.” 

You glanced at him, seeing how uncomfortable he looked. Had you both failed? You shouldn’t be surprised, but you were. 

“I guess our not-detention is gonna be awkward. Hopefully, Benson’ll leave us alone to do whatever task she has for us.” You sighed as you swapped books and grabbed your lunch box. 

“Maybe we can sneak out again.” Eddie suggested. 

“If we do that there might not be a Spring Day. Shouldn’t this be the student council’s job anyway?” you asked. “I don’t see why she’s so bent on us making this happen. No offence.” 

“None taken.” Eddie held up his hands. “I have as much school spirit as a rock.” 

“You looked like you would have been anywhere else during the pep rally.”

“I tried to skip, but I got caught.” He ran his fingers through his hair with a world weary sigh. 

“Try breaking your wrist next time. It got me out of it.” you lifted your arm to show off your cast. 

“You broke your wrist trying to apologize, I wouldn’t apologize to anyone in this shithole.” Eddie said. 

You wanted to be offended, but you couldn’t blame him. If you were Stacy, or if he were anyone else, you might bat your lashes at him and ask if that also applied to you, but you couldn’t. You weren’t Stacy, and Eddie was still Eddie. 

“Not even your friends?” you settled on. 

“If I had an issue with one of my friends we’d talk about it.” Eddie looked at you, a sharpness in his eyes that made you want to shrink. Why was he looking at you like he was accusing you of something? You had apologized, right? And he’d accepted! Did he want you to apologize again? 

“Thank you for delivering my friend safely, Eddie.” Saved from the awkward encounter by arriving at the lunch table with Stacy. “Are you sure you won’t be joining us?” 

“Alas, I am still honor bound to my little gang of misfits.” Eddie sighed holding his hand over his heart.

“Fine, be a buzzkill.” Stacy replied. “Shoo.” 

You couldn’t decide which was worse, Stacy shooing the love of your life off or Eddie giving you that accusatory look. 

The look. That was worse. 

“One day he’ll either eat with us or ask us to join them.” Stacy said, trading her cookie with the pudding cup in your lunch bag. 

“You could go over there and sit with them, and they’d be too stunned to tell you to leave.” You laughed. “You’d be Queen of the Freaks by the end of the period.”

“I could, but that’s a title I’m saving for you.” Stacy said supportively. 

“Hey Stacy, were you a cheerleader?” You asked as you remembered your conversation with Eddie. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I didn’t tell you that? So embarrassing.” She shook her head. “I was on the squad for about two and a half years before I got kicked off.” 

“You got kicked off?” you looked at her in surprise. 

“Yeah, I got caught smoking. Turns out that’s a big no-no when you’re on the squad.” Stacy was saying this like it was just a bad date she had been on. 

“Smoking? Since when do you smoke?” This was also news to you. You had never seen her with a cigarette or even a lighter before. 

“Only socially.” Stacy said. “It’s not a big deal. I’m not exactly torn up about it. I was only on the team because mom made me, and because I didn’t want to get rusty in gymnastics.” 

You had known that Stacy had been very into gymnastics in her younger years, there were few medals and trophies scattered in her room. You glanced over at a table on the far side where a few jocks and cheerleaders were. 

“So, why aren’t you sitting with them? Are you not friends anymore...?” you couldn’t help it, you were a little nosey and wanted to know more about your best friend. 

“Of course.” Stacy looked confused. “Chrissy Cunningham is one of my dearest friends.” 

“Then why are you sitting with me and not them?” Any insecurity you might have had was overrun by confusion. 

“Because that’s not what we do here.” Stacy said, as if it were the most normal answer in the world. “You sit with the cheerleaders and jocks if you’re a cheerleader or a jock.” 

“But... you’re friends.” you said slowly. 

“Yes.” 

“....Are you sitting with me out of pity? Please be honest with me.” 

“No, dumbass, I’m sitting with you because we’re friends.” 

“I... I don’t get it.” you sighed. 

“Listen, I know things might have been different before you got to Hawkins, but this is just how things are. I’m sitting with you because you’re more interesting than the latest basketball or football game. Plus, with you I have more options.” 

“What?”

“Well, you’re an anomaly.” Stacy said. “You came in late, and so you don’t have an assigned group that you’ve been with since Kindergarten. You talk to whoever you want, and you haven’t made any enemies with anyone here. People like you, you know.” 

“You make it sound like I’m popular or something.” You said. 

“Not popular, but something else.” Stacy gave you an analytical look. “If you had really tried, I think you could be in any group you wanted.” 

“Any group except one.” you glanced longingly at Eddie’s table. He seemed to be in a good mood now, if the impromptu air-guitar solo he was performing was anything to go by. You didn’t know what song he was listening to through his headphones but he seemed really into it. His friends seemed less impressed as they talked amongst themselves.

“I can’t believe you’re really this intimidated by Eddie Munson.” Stacy rolled her eyes. 

“Why not? Everyone else seems to be. And stop distracting me! If you have other friends why aren’t you sitting with them? Or why are you sitting with me? Or why aren’t we sitting with them?” 

“You’re taking this so personally.” Stacy pat your shoulder. “I’m here because I want to be, I don’t sit with them because I don’t want to, and I don’t invite you to sit with them because you’d be miserable and they wouldn’t appreciate the drama that is your crush on the Freak.” 

You groaned and rubbed your face. “At my old school we just sat with the people we liked and called it a day.” 

“Good news, I like you so it’s not that different.” Stacy said. 

The rest of lunch was uninteresting, as you and Stacy talked non-stop about the worst gossip and her latest date. You stole glances at Eddie, wondering if what she had said was true. Could you have been part of that group if you hadn't had your head so far up your ass? You had tried so hard to not make friends this year. You just wanted to take your diploma and go. 

The storm was picking up when the final bell rang, and your wrist twinged in annoyance as you bumped it while grabbing the books you’d need for the homework that you weren’t sure you’d even do. Ms. Bensen wasn’t expecting you and Eddie for at least fifteen minutes, enough time for the school to clear out and the buses and cars to make their way out of school. 

Feeling restless, you made your way to the lesser used side parking lot that was reserved for teachers and any former alumni who knew that if you were picking someone up there’d be less traffic. Under the awning, you were taking just a moment to get some fresh air and enjoy the stronger gusts of wind after a day of stale school air. You doubt you and Eddie would be able to sneak off anywhere to hide inside the school, and you didn’t want to assume that he’d want to anyway. 

Amidst the sound of the rain, a faint sound of wheels on concrete drew your attention. Zack, the skater from your science class, was sitting by the payphone rolling his skateboard back and forth as he stared out into the parking lot. 

“Payphone eat your quarter again?” You asked, walking over and leaning against the wall next to him. 

Zack looked up, recognition crossing his face and he shook his dirty blond hair. “Nah, not this time. Just waiting for my older brother to come and pick me up. Can’t board in this storm.” 

“I think it’d be surfing at this point.” You nodded, watching deep puddles start to form in the parking lot. 

“Heh, no kidding.” 

There was a comfortable silence between the two of you for a moment before a car pulled up in front of you. Instead of Zack running to hop in, the driver hopped out and hurried under the awning while the car was idling. 

Zack’s older brother looked strikingly like him, but with much longer hair and thick glasses. Under his denim coat he was wearing an ADCD t-shirt and an old faded pair of jeans. He took off his glasses and used his shirt to wipe off the rain. 

“Dude, get back in the car I wanna go home.” Zack groaned. 

“In due time, young one.” His brother patted him on the head, condescendingly. “I have a side-quest that I must complete before we go.” 

Why was this guy talking like Eddie?

“You there, what is your name?” He said, looking at you. 

You stuttered out your name, not expecting to be acknowledged. 

“What is your quest?” 

Quest? Why did this sound familiar? And why did you feel like you were being tested? 

“To just- fuckin’ survive.” That was the only thing you could think of at the moment. 

He smirked and pushed up his glasses.

“And what is the airspeed velocity of a swallow?” 

Oh fucking hell, you were caught up now on what he was doing. 

“African or European?”

The smirk on his face morphed into a genuine smile, and he offered his hand. “Good answer. I’m Kenny, Zack’s brother.”

“Can you stop being weird around all my friends?” Zack groaned as you shook Kenny’s hand. You and Zack were friends?

“How else am I supposed to know you keep good company?” Kenny shrugged. 

“I do have a real question for you, because my brother is useless-” 

“Hey!”

“Do you know where I could find one Relgar, the half-orc?” 

“Could you please talk like a normal person, dude?” 

You had no idea who the fuck Kenny was talking about, but you could narrow it down. 

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, but Hellfire Club meets on Fridays.” you said. 

Kenny seemed to light up more. “Excellent! It’s Tuesday so I have no reason to be here any longer. I wanted to drop something off if he was still around.”

“Thank god.” Zack muttered. 

“Which one is Relgar?” Curiosity killed the cat-

“Nowadays he is known as the most sadistic Dungeon Master that has ever dared to run a game in Hawkins.” Kenny said. “But in school he just goes by Eddie.” 

-But satisfaction brought it back. “Munson? I’m actually about to see him. I can deliver it.”

“Are you in Hellfire?” Kenny asked. 

“Not exactly, but I’m going to see Eddie in a second. We have extra credit we have to work on.” You said once again. 

“Extra credit? That doesn’t sound like Eddie.” He looked at you suspiciously. 

“Man, come on, just give her the damn thing so we can go home. You already said she’s cool, and she loaned me a quarter once so I could call you before.” Zack groaned. 

“Well, if Zack says I can trust you then I have no choice. Besides, MacGyver is almost on and I don’t want to miss it.” Kenny pulled a booklet out of his jacket that you recognized as a D&D module and handed it over. “Let’s go.” Zack groaned and hopped into the car, using his board as the worst umbrella in history.

“That better get to Eddie, or I’ll know about it.” Kenny said. 

And that’s when you had to run for your life because you had all of 30 seconds to get your ass to Benson’s classroom. You were panting when you finally dropped down into the desk next to Eddie. 

“Nice of you to join us.” Ms. Benson said dryly. She placed some papers between the two of you. “Look, I am trying to help you both out. You both know what you got on your last test. I’m giving you this chance to try again. Put your desks together, get your books out. You two can work together, it’s open book.” 

“That’s... generous.” you said, looking up at her. 

“I’m tired of seeing adults in high school.” 

“Ouch.” Eddie winced. “And here I thought we were finally getting along.” 

“We'll get along better once you’re gone.” Despite Ms. Benson’s flat tone, there was a hint of a smile on her thin lips. 

Eddie was close. Too close for your comfort, but also not nearly close enough. Eddie had grabbed your desk and pulled it over to his, so that you two were sitting very very close to each other. You had never been so close to him before, and you were sure you were going to get a worse grade now that you could see the details in his heavy rings. 

The space was crowded, and you tried so hard to keep to your own space. The two of you took turns reading the questions, and flipping through the textbook the two of you were sharing. You did everything you could to focus on the make up test. 

It was hard to tell if Eddie’s presence made the test easier or harder the second time around. On one hand, you wanted so badly to not look like a complete idiot in front of him; on the other hand you could feel your brain turn to mush every time his arm brushed against yours. 

Eddie was a leftie, you noticed. 

“At least the vocab section is easy.” Eddie leaned over to look at the glossary, and your brain was threatening nuclear meltdown with how near his voice was. 

You sucked it up, and over the course of the next 30 minutes the two of you managed to cobble together something that had to be a passing grade. 

“Eddie, your handwriting is awful.” you said without thinking, staring at the chicken scratch on his paper. “Even if everything’s right, you can’t pass if she can’t read it.” 

“She can read my writing.” Eddie said, waving you off. “Isn’t that right, Ms. B?”

Ms. Benson didn’t look up from her papers. “I’ve grown accustomed to reading hieroglyphics.” 

You looked over your papers, made Eddie re-write a few words on his test and the two of you finally turned in your tests. 

Ms. Benson put aside what she was working on and immediately graded the tests right in front of you both. She looked at the final grades, then her grade book, and then back at the tests. 

“Good enough.” she declared, and handed them back. There was a B written at the top in red marker. “You’re done here.” 

“Pleasure doing business with you.” said Eddie as he turned to leave the classroom. 

That was it? No Spring Day work? Fine, at least that was over. You followed Eddie, now having a full half hour before your mom was supposed to pick you up. Maybe you’d just hang out in the library until then- 

You lost Eddie. 

You were so lost in your own world that you blinked and the guy vanished from sight. Normally, this would not have been a big deal and you’d simply lament that he was no longer in your vision. However, you had something in your bag that you had promised to give him and you were hardly about to let this opportunity to talk to him again run you by. 

So you picked a direction and hoped that it was the right way. 

Your first instinct was to go to the parking lot where his van would be parked but it was still there. You stood outside for a few minutes, but gave up on waiting when some asshole leaving detention splashed you with his car, leaving your front drenched but your backpack was thankfully dry. 

Fuck everything, you had one job and you’ve already blown it. You did your best to dry yourself off in the bathroom before circling the school three times. You were so pissed, you were wet, your wrist hurt, you didn’t give Eddie his stupid D&D module, and you were ready to just give up.

You tried to tell yourself that there was always tomorrow, but that didn’t bring you much comfort.  

The telltale sound of someone getting slammed into a locker echoed through the hallway. 

Keep your head down, don’t make waves, and just get your diploma and go. Don’t get involved, don’t make friends. You aren’t gonna be here long enough. Besides, you already told yourself that you were giving up today. 

Your feet ignored your brain and you ran towards the sound.

When you turned the corner you found the standoff in one of the less frequented hallways. A basketball player looked like he was ready to throw down while Eddie was picking one of his freshmen up off the ground. You recognized the curly hair and brightly colored shirt, topped with a baseball cap but you didn’t know his name. 

You did know the basketball player, he was in your remedial math and was always talking louder than the teacher. You had no idea what the fuck was going on, and you should probably mind your own damn business but as usual your brain was ignored. 

“Holy shit, Danny! I’m so glad I found you!” you rushed over, putting yourself between him and Eddie. You hoped that being still wet from the rain made you look pathetic enough to distract him from whatever he was pissed out. 

Danny had not anticipated anyone to catch them and he looked at you dumbfounded. Then his eyes drifted down slightly and you resisted every urge to cover your chest. Why the hell did you wear a white shirt today?

Between him glancing down at your chest, and up towards your face in confusion it gave you enough time to think of a lie as to why you were interfering. 

“I- uh-” You faltered, and found yourself shaking. What the hell were you doing?! “I- I forgot the homework!” your voice sounded as if you were in pain. “Please tell me you wrote down the assignment. If I- if I don’t do it then my grade will drop to an F and my mom will actually kill me.” 

Danny opened his mouth a few times like a fish and looked behind you at Eddie and his freshmen. There was still a spark of fire in his eyes. 

“Look, give me a second and I’ll-” 

“Forget about the freaks, I need your help!” Your voice was loud and shrill, and so unfamiliar to you. Anxiety shot through you, and you hated that you had to resort to name calling. There was no way in hell that Eddie would ever want to sneak off with you now for any reason. 

Danny was shocked and just looked behind you, with a resigned expression. “I’ll deal with you later.” he said and ushered you towards his locker. 

Something hot slid down your face as you followed Danny. Oh, fuck it all you were crying. Frustration tears had welled up and were sliding down your face and you wiped them away with a wet sleeve. 

Fuck today. Breaking your wrist at the pep rally wasn’t as humiliating as this. 

Danny finally handed over a torn up piece of paper which had the page number and problems you were supposed to do tonight. 

“Here.” he said, looking at you with pity. 

“Thanks.” you managed to choke out. “I mean it. You’re saving my ass.” 

“Just let me copy your work tomorrow before school and we’ll call it even.” Danny shrugged. 

You had wanted to skip school tomorrow, but now you had no choice. Now you actually had to do these stupid problems as well. 

“Sure.” You stared at the floor in shame. “...What were you doing with those guys anyway?”

“Dipshit freshman pissed me off.” he said. “Had to teach him a lesson, but then the Freak showed up.” 

“Why are you picking a fight with a freshman so late in the year?” you asked. “If you got caught, all of you probably would have been in big trouble. I heard Mrs. Click stopped Patty Marshall from walking the stage at graduation because she got into a shouting match outside her classroom.” 

This was a big fat lie, but you were willing to do anything to get the basketball team to leave Eddie and his friends alone. 

Danny slammed his locker shut. “Whatever. He’s not worth the effort anyway. You better meet me tomorrow so I can copy your work.”

“Right, right.” you said. “Yeah, I’ll meet you.” 

You hurried out of school, pissed and cold and your stupid eyes were still leaking. Mom was already waiting out front for you as you got into the back seat.

From where you were, you couldn’t see that Eddie was watching you from his van as the storm picked up over Hawkins High.  

Author Notes: If there is one thing you should know about me, it's that any time we get even a tiny bit of Eddie lore I WILL use it in whatever I'm writing. Say hello to Kenny from Rise of Hellfire, the original DM! Next chapter we'll get more from his POV, and you'll have more time to hang out with Eddie very soon!

Tag List: 

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@amieinghigh @hazydespair @princesssunderworld

[illuminatedquill]

I am loathe to wade into the shipping discourse because it’s not how Severance should be viewed - at least in its entirety - but also the writers, directors, and cast members definitely seem keen on the audience being forced into Mark’s dilemma: Helly or Gemma.

This conflict is woven into the show’s theme and is featured prominently in the intro, even. So it’s hard not to get involved and have thoughts. It’s a deeply uncomfortable topic to consider, which I totally get and, speaking personally, I despise love triangles in stories.

Severance gets a slight pass because they’re actually doing justice to the concept and making it interesting and complicated but I will admit that I’m still not a fan of Mark x Helly. I think they were better off as just friends, with the romance firmly staying between Mark and Gemma.

If you’re not interested in hearing any thoughts about this then feel free to keep scrolling. Otherwise, read on:

Mark x Helly only makes sense to me if it adds weight to the final choice of him staying with Gemma in the end. From my point of view, Helly’s most interesting relationship is with herself - namely, her outie Helena. In this season, that seems to have been sidelined in favor of her romance with Mark which is . . . a choice.

It’s possible that leads to the popular theory that Helly becomes pregnant by Mark, one that I’m personally not fond of, since it makes the relationships even more complicated (and I think the show has enough complicated interpersonal dynamics as it is) but I am giving grace to the Severance writers to handle such a plot line with their usual creativity and keen guidance.

Anyway, I don’t think anyone watching the show with working eyes can deny that Helly is deeply important to Mark and even Gemma, to an extent. If Gemma is the impetus for the show even existing, then Helly is the catalyst that spurs the show’s characters forward with her firebrand personality. She’s exactly what Mark needs right now, and the same could be said about Mark for her. He grounds Helly and gives her a safe space, whereas she gives him purpose and the will to move forward. Mark needs that.

Helly’s presence is what spurs Mark to start the search for Ms. Casey (even if that’s been somewhat derailed this season).

There’s a valid argument to be had that Mark x Gemma, having changed and lost so much because and for each other, would be doomed to a lifetime of misery for choosing to stay with each other. There’s so much tragedy between them, even before Lumon cruelly split them apart.

Helly could be a new start for Mark, free from that pain. Her and Mark’s relationship feels youthful in a stark contrast to Mark and Gemma’s lived-in marriage. That is purposeful; the creators of the show have said that one of the themes for this second season is adolescence. And we know that they go well together, having seen them in action on the severed floor.

But . . . it doesn’t feel true to the themes of Severance if they do go down that route, at least to me. Mark’s central character flaw is his conflict avoidance: his unwillingness to face the hard and painful experiences head-on in an honest and open manner.

Helly is important to him. He loves her. She is what he needs right now.

But it has to be Gemma. Not because he’s married to her or out of loyalty to what they had before. Because that Mark and Gemma are gone. Dead. Neither of them are going back to how things were between them.

It has to be Gemma because that’s the only way either of them are going to truly get out of Hell. Going with Helly would mean not having to face all that hardship and pain and suffering that healing would require. It would mean that Mark and Gemma suffered for nothing.

They have to face it; all the damage done from Lumon, from their own selves, and from each other. Face it together and learn to love and be happy and live together despite it all. And they have to undertake that journey together.

Severance never takes the easy route. It’s making the statement that you cannot sever away the trauma and pain of life without losing your humanity in the process.

Mark x Helly vs Mark x Gemma. It gives more weight to know that, despite having the chance for him to walk away, he still chooses Gemma. That he wants to be with her after everything: the good, the bad, the ugly. To stand by her side and go through it all with love and honesty and faith that they’ll make it through this.

It’s Gemma. Always has and always will be.

(I know there’s the question about what Gemma would want, especially after finding out that innie Mark loves Helly - and if they do go down the pregnancy route, hoo boy. But I think we forget that Gemma is intelligent - innie Mark was born out of a need to forget her. And she knows and understands from painful experience how innies work. If anything, Gemma might be more mad about the fact he chose to get severed rather than him falling in love with another woman, considering memories of him were all that was keeping her going while locked away in Lumon’s dungeon whereas Mark thought creating a version that never knew her was needed to keep functioning. But, all the same, I don’t think watching her fight tooth and nail for almost an hour leaves any doubt in my mind that she would still want to be with him. It wouldn’t be easy to reconcile with but, hey, life and love are messy. It’s the story of everyone. Trying to avoid it deprives you of the full richness of our brief lives and robs it of meaning is what Severance is saying. But if she and Mark survive getting free and clear of Lumon and are open and honest with each other, then they’ll be okay, I think. And, of course, the love is still there, in spite of it all. That’s enough to convince me. It won’t be the same, but it can be good again. I know it can be. After all, winter never lasts forever. Spring always comes again.)

These are my own thoughts, I cannot stress that enough. It’s what makes sense to me. Even though I don’t care for Mark x Helly, I do adore Helly’s character and wish her the best ending possible. But with Helena as her outie, I just don’t see that being a possibility. And, no, I don’t believe that Severance is going to attempt a redemption arc for Helena. Not that the writers couldn’t write a damn good one for her - they certainly could - it’s just that particular narrative would require a huge amount of character work that should take multiple years and seasons to develop properly. You can’t just flip a switch and she’s suddenly Helly, even if she does reintegrate. I just don’t think it’s a story that should be rushed, like how it was with the resolution to Helena co-opting Helly’s bodily autonomy to be intimate with Mark. Fringe did that storyline way better and the reason why is because they had the time and space to do so. Severance does not - not in this current era of streaming shows where everything is condensed to 10 episodes max. Doesn’t matter how good the writers are.

[indigosfindings]

replaying super paper mario, sporadic thoughts post-chapter 2:

very easy so far--& although ttyd was also easy, spm's gameplay is sadly substantially less rich thab ttyd's was

having said that the game design in spm is! unrelentingly charming!! the use of platforming as a framework for a varied stream of stage styles (straightforward levels, dungeons, towns, the entire 2-3 Situation) is creative in a way that imo predicts the sort of things the mario maker community later ended up making. chapter 2's set pieces in particular are extremely quirky (the rooms with traps, the rubee thing, the mazelike basement, the merlee game show lmao)

few platformers have boss fights that feel like genuine Combat, so that's pretty cool

i will confess that as a First Dungeon, yold ruins doesnt have half the sauce of hooktail castle--it's much more linear in layout, with far less of that zelda-y "explore & comprehend the space" principle that made ttyd's dungeons hit

in a similar vein, it's kind of crazy how tippi has like a fraction of the personality that goombella had. it's a bit sad for the character doing the vast majority of the talking to just.... not really have any opinions on anything

the momentum of the chapters likewise means very few npcs ever get to stick out. like, even the "first town crotchety old mayor" character was a total one-and-done, one dialogue and you never have a reason to speak to him again (mostly just speaks to the game structure, which is as mentioned a bold enough exercise that i feel i cant really fault it for that)

bringing up a menu to use items In A Platforming Context is not at all natural to me, so im finding myself just not really using them

this game is a masterclass in visual design imo. the npcs & enemies & pixls being made of primitives that reconfigure themselves into different shapes really elevates the interplay of 2d & 3d, the backgrounds/environments are extremely aesthetically satisfying (the Mathmosphere in lineland, the optical illusion in the sky in gloam valley, all of castle bleck), & i love how the constant "digital/tech" motif (eg the "dragging selection boxes to flip/teleport", the trees & shrubs looking like something youd make in ms paint, etc) is an ingenious progression of paper mario's core aesthetic design

dimentio is so fun

i ADOOOORE nastasia

the inter-chapter dialogue flashbacks are surprisingly earnest? for such a tongue-in-cheek game where almost every line of dialogue contains a joke of some kind, those exchanges feel humourless & sincere. that probably contributes to the Space the game occupies in all of our memories lol

likewise it was really interesting how peach's "escape" sequence after chapter 1 was (while, again, still extremely sardonic) aesthetically & narratively framed with such a sense of Hopelessness. that's not to say like "woahh this mario game is 10x darker than you thought!!!!", more that it's just not a space the series commonly ventures into

the Ancients stuff is being leaned into extremely hard lol. ttyd mostly teases at that kind of "mysterious rpg lore" thing peripherally (the riddle tower inscriptions, grifty, etc) so it's interesting how spm puts it front & centre in contrast, without ever sacrificing the sense of mystique

this game really highlights how interesting the wiimote is as a controller--pressing the A button while holding it sideways (ie removing your left thumb from the direction input to press a button) is something that i cant think of any other controller doing, & it projects onto that button a really interesting sense of, like, Valence

it's the kind of game that seems to beg for one of thsoe posts like "things that ACTUALLY HAPPEN in _____"

[lordressdragoonbear]

Aimée Laurent - Girls From Around The World 🌍

Hello, hello!

Here we are with the last girl in my girls around the world CAS series.

Here is Ms. Aimée Laurent our French girl. She doesn't get along with her dad and is a fashionable woman. She wants to explore the world but her father doesn't want her to. She wants to be popular to show off her creativity and sense of fashion.

I used mainly World Adventure stuff with a few pieces of cc.

Anyhoo…

This Here Package contains: 1 girly from France.

P.S, They should come with some of the CC used.

but if they don’t, here are some links of the stuff I could find.

Hair | Hat | Eyes | Eyelashes | Eyelash Slider | Skin | Sliders | Makeup | Formal dress from the store but I can't find it | No eyebrows as usually…

Anything I missed was due to the fact that I’ve had some of this CC since 2018 and I cannot find it, or pure laziness 😅

I don’t remember where I got all this CC, but a ton of it should be on my CC reblog account @ohcrapitsccfinds​ so head on over there for some CC!

Thanks to all the CC creators whose CC I used, ya’ll are grand and I love your work!

Links: DRIVE/SFS

Video Links: https://youtu.be/ie51NDlka0A?feature=shared

No Bonus but here is Luca and his alien son!

[barbwritesstuff]

I wanted to talk quickly about my writing schedule because I've had a few questions about it (mostly because I was sick a couple of days ago but also just in general). My schedule isn't fixed in stone but it usually looks something like this:

Monday - Prose writing

Tuesday - Prose writing

Wednesday - IF writing (Thicker Than)

Thursday - IF writing (Thicker Than)

Friday - IF writing (Thicker Than)

Saturday - Relax (write if you want, but no pressure)

Sunday - Relax (write if you want, but no pressure)

I try to write roughly 1k words a day.

This means, every week, I should get a couple of thousand words at least on whatever prose project I'm working on, and also on Thicker Than.

Sometimes this schedule changes because of how I'm feeling on the day.

Sometimes, I'm just not feeling creative and can't write very much.

Sometimes, I feel awesome and write a whole bunch in one day.

Sometimes I'm feeling inspired by a particular project, and end up working on that and not what I'm meant to.

It's all very artsy fartsy.

The reason why I didn't update this week is because on Wednesday I had to do a bunch of stuff outdoors and couldn't work on Thicker Than. To add insult to injury, I gave myself heat stroke and was puking all Thursday. I couldn't get much done on Friday either because I was still in recovery mode.

I also wasn't very productive in my prose project because I've been hunting for new writing software (because I can't figure out how to get the AI out of MS Word) and that's taken up way more time than it should've.

I hope all that makes sense.

I wanted to share this because:

I like sharing things, it makes me feel more connected and more human.

I feel like some people are worried I'm going to abandon Thicker Than and I need everyone to know, that's not the plan.

This list looked empty with two things on it, so here's a third.

Anyway.

I'm not sure how to end this now. I know there's a lot of nonsense in the world right now. I hope everyone is staying safe. I also hope you haven't forgotten to hope.

Suck blood, fuck the moon, and don't forget to defrag.

Peace.

💙

[thestorycomesalive]

And I Would Do it Again

George Weasley x Reader

Summary: When you stick up for George in front of your whole Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Professor Umbridge has a certain consequence in mind for you.

Angst and Fluff, Hurt/Comfort.

TW: Mentions of Blood

****

“Eh hem, Mr. Weasley,” hummed a trilling voice from behind the tall red head next to you.

“Professor?” George raised an eyebrow to the pink clad woman behind him, wondering what in the world the small, angry lady could possibly want. Afterall, he hadn’t done anything wrong. And he knew better than to test her at this point. Or at least he knew his limits. Ron had told him of the tragic events that took place in Harry’s detention. Ever since then, he and his twin brother had gotten quieter and cleverer about pulling their tricks around school. Of course, they hadn’t stopped altogether. George wouldn’t be George without his pranks. But George knew he couldn’t get detention. Not out of a kindness for himself, but rather for your sake. He knew you’d worry too much.

But this time, he hadn’t done anything to provoke Professor Umbridge. He racked his brain for a moment, but he couldn’t think of one thing that would call her attention to him.

“You have received a generous amount of our class time today to complete your writing assignment, and while even Ms. L/N next to you has come up with a few paragraphs, you seem to have nearly nothing on your page. Care to explain what you’ve been up to all of this time?” The woman teetered to the front of your table, peering down at George.

He gave her a look of disbelief. “Well, it is not for lack of trying. I just have a hard time learning on paper. And you don’t let us use our wands,” he pointed out.

She giggled a single, ugly giggle. “Mr. Weasley… I can’t say I’m surprised. Afterall, I have come to expect less than from you. You shouldn’t need your wand to learn. Perhaps it is time for you to accept the fact that your own stupidity is to blame for your shortcomings. I really do my very best, but some students are just purely unteachable.” She hummed the last part to herself, shaking her head.

Your eyes shot up to her instantly. You had been watching her for some time, but in this instance, your eyes had been on the boy next to you, offering looks of kindness and sympathy without words. But now you were angry. Practically fuming. “Excuse me,” you muttered sharply, grabbing her attention with a whip of her head. “That is not, in any way, fair or warranted. George is one of the smartest people I know.” Your eyes were shooting darts at her as a piercing, condescending smile crept up to her ears.

“Ms. L/N. Talking out of turn will not be tolerated in my classroom. Especially not when it is used to talk back to your superiors,” she huffed.

You felt the smallest sensation of George’s pinky finger entwining with yours, as he tried to simmer down some of the anger, he knew was bubbling within you. You sighed and decided to leave the subject, having said your piece.

“You shall not question my knowledge and wisdom in any sense. If I say he is stupid, he is stupid, and if I say you are a flying Niffler, well then, you must be a flying Niffler. Do you understand, young lady?” she grinned, clearly having been satisfied with what she thought was winning the argument. You feel the heat and anger rising even higher than before at the mention of the sweet boy next to you. And then you finally realized what it is she was asking of you. She was asking you to agree with her cruel assumption about your George in front of the whole class. She cocks an eyebrow in the air with a wild smirk on her face. The rage pools over as you finally let it escape your mouth.

“No. I do not. I do not understand how you can call someone so bright and creative stupid, simply because you lack the skills and empathy to teach them what you would like them to know. Or because their knowledge simply extends beyond concepts that you can understand. You might not agree with me, Professor, but not everyone is like you. Not everyone wants to sit in a dark room and just pretend to learn for the rest of their lives. You want to give me detention, Professor? Fine. But I will not stand by while you abuse really great wizards, let alone, the ones that I love.” You cock your eyebrows back at her, knowing she has you right where she wants you. You don’t have a care in the world as the steam almost rises from your ears. It is now you notice that George’s hand had moved from your pinky to your wrist, gently trying to stop you from making the decision you had just made, his eyes pleading with yours with a gentle sadness and slight shock. However, for the briefest moment, you thought you could make out the tiniest glimpse of pride pass his eyes at the same time.

“Detention, Ms. L/N. I will not have anyone tell me how to teach in my classroom or question my abilities and judgement as a witch. Let alone someone so new to magic, as yourself.” She smiled smugly as she returned to the front of the classroom continuing her lesson immediately, not giving George or you a chance to respond to her. It was this act that left George hunting her down with a glare that could kill for the rest of the class, hand still in yours.

****

George spent every moment away from you that day, skipping his classes, trying in every way to get himself detention with Umbridge as well. However, every attempt ended with a quiet humph and scolding from her filled with cruel and nasty words. It was clear that even though she dreadfully wanted to, she was not going to give in and give George the detention he so desperately desired. She knew his punishment would be far more effective if she let you suffer and put him in a position where he would not be able to do anything about it whatsoever. It was the only time that he had the freedom to do nearly anything he wanted at Hogwarts, to break almost any rule he wanted to break, and get away with it. The painful irony is, he hated every second of it.

*****

Your detention arrived quickly that night when the corridors of the castles quieted. You had spent all day since your class with Umbridge quiet by George’s side. On the moments that you would be separated, you would go find a place in the Gryffindor Common Room to sit and wait for him to return from his classes or what you thought must be prank trials with Fred. But you weren’t worried about your detention like most people probably assumed you had been. Hell, you probably should’ve been. No. You were furious. Furious at Umbridge for targeting George, furious at her for backing you into a corner until you couldn’t take it anymore, furious at her for hurting Harry, furious at her for getting away with all of the terrible things she has done… furious.

When darkness befell the Common Room, only George, Fred, Lee, and you remained. You hadn’t told Harry or anyone else about your detention. You didn’t want him to worry. However, Fred and Lee, of course, had known of your soon-to-be punishment, considering they had been in the class when you received it. When you left the classroom, George pulled you into his side protectively and Lee had given you proud pat on the shoulder. With an exaggerated wink, Fred had run up and exclaimed, “Blimey, that was amazing, L/N! Nice craftsmanship, excellent execution.” Fred had tried to wipe some of the anger from your face throughout the day with a few, “don’t mess with that one, she’s fiery” and “Oi, Lee, careful. Catch yourself even looking at ol’ Georgie too long, and you might have to answer to that one,” with a point in your direction. These usually earned a genuine, soft smile from you as you chuckled to yourself. Freddie was the one person in the world who could make any person laugh no matter the circumstances. George would blush, and if he saw you laughing, he would also laugh to himself at the mention of the last joke from Fred. Part of you wondered if he may have enjoyed feeling your protectiveness over him. And you didn’t mind. You liked that he liked it. Even now.

But as the four of you sat late in the quiet Common Room, you felt the jokes wash away as George twiddled with his fingers, your head on his chest. You could tell he was feeling worried and helpless as you waited for your time to leave for detention. When that time came, you gave them a gentle smile and said, “Alright, I’m off. I’ll see you guys in the morning. Don’t go worrying about me too much.” You gave Fred and Lee a wink and kissed the top of George’s head.

As if on instinct, George grabbed your hand, pleading with his face, as if he were trying to keep you from going. But he knew that if you did not show up tonight, it would only earn you an even bigger punishment with the nasty, pink-shoed woman later. You took his hand and held it to your cheek as you gave him a little smile and whispered, “I love you. Goodnight.” And off you went, George watching your back as you left.

*****

As you creaked through the half open door of Umbridge’s office, you heard her squeal in delight. She toned out, “Do come in, Ms. L/N.”

You walked in without a word, eyes piercing through the small woman as she continued. “I do hope tonight will serve you nicely. You will be writing lines for me, dear.” You nodded your head, eyes still shooting at the Professor. This is what you had expected to hear from her. “Take a seat. There is a quill and parchment already for you at the desk there.”

 You took a seat at the desk she pointed to as she tutted. “Hmm… What lesson is to be learned tonight, do you think?” You, of course, didn’t answer. “There are many lessons I believe you could benefit from learning, Ms. L/N, but I have chosen to be generous to you, for reasons unbeknownst to me. I believe the lines, ‘I will learn my place and be respectful to my superiors’, will do just fine.”

 Your mouth dropped. You were expecting to write lines, and you knew the pain that would come with that, but you had not expected the number of words she would give you to write to be so extensive. You only prayed that the number of lines she would have you complete would be less, to even out your sentence to compare to the stories you had heard from others, including Harry. You dared to ask. “How many- “

“One hundred,” she interrupted without hesitation.

You nodded, eyes still a bit wide from shock. You assumed that you had really struck a nerve with your defiance towards Umbridge. Afterall, why else would your sentence be nearly double that of any other student you have heard from so far? You figured that you also were being used as punishment towards those you loved as well. Those who have also unmeaningly struck a nerve of Umbridge’s too: Harry and George. But you wouldn’t be used as bait. No, you quite refused to be used as such.

As you dared to hover the dry quill over the paper, you prepared yourself for the pain that would inevitably begin once you touched them down to meet. And when it did, the pain was one hundred times more unbearable than you had even begun to imagine, just like the number of lines you were to complete.

By the time you had arrived halfway through your assignment, blood was dripping down your fingertips, drenching your parchment along with the tears crawling down your face. Finally, soft whimpers that you had tried to hold back for so long, began to escape.

 The clock ticking echoed in your ears, taunting your brain with the idea of freedom. After what felt like an eternity, you had finished the lines, and you were a both dry and wet bloodied mess. You sat up from your seat and handed the now quiet professor your scarlet stained parchment full of scratches reading, “I will learn my place and be respectful to my superiors”, front and back.

“May I leave now?” you uttered.

She simply nodded with a conniving grin plastered on her face as she watched you walk out the door.

*****

You held your breath until you arrived back past the portrait into the Gryffindor Common Room, not wanting that evil woman to hear you cry. When you stepped into the room, you pressed your back to the cold wall next to you and grabbed your wrist, blood flow never-ending, and finally let the tears and sobs escape you, as your back fell down the wall. You were so blinded by the pain that you didn’t even notice there was someone in the room with you. They ran up from the couch, over to your place by the wall, and sat right next to you, pulling you into their lap. From the moment you discovered the figure, your brain and your heart knew it would be your George. Part of you had a feeling he wouldn’t sleep until you were back, and you didn’t want him to see you like this. You fought your brain which told you that you were allowing yourself to be the live weapon that Umbridge wanted you to be. You just hadn’t expected the pain to be so much. You hadn’t expected that you would collapse right in front of George. You so desperately wanted to be strong. To stay strong for him. For yourself. But, oh merlin, did it hurt.

His big arms wrapped around your shoulders and brought his hand to pull your bloodied one into his line of sight. His breathing hitched and he felt his blood run to his cheeks and his ears as his other hand clenched into a fist. He was seeing red at the extra bloodied hand you fostered, much worse than he had ever seen, even on Harry. But the rage he felt was nothing compared to the crunch of his heart splitting in two as your cries of pain reached his ears. He didn’t know what to do, he felt so helpless, just as he had all day, but a million times worse.

“Darling, I know. I’m so sorry. I’m- I’m so sorry. Please. Please, I have to wrap this. You have to let me wrap this,” he struggled, pleading with you.

Your head heard his words, and it told you to move, to stop crying, to say something. But your skin was on fire, and the roar of the flames outspoke the language of your brain trying to reason with your body. You were able to lean your head into his shoulder, as you tried to compose yourself as best as you could, but the best you could do was quiet your sobs ever so slightly, as any and all words fell silent in the back of your throat. Your tears soaked through his shirt and coated his upper arm that still held you. He began to take his arms and pull himself up, untangling himself from you. He moved to sit on his knees in front of you, eyes searching for yours as he tilted your chin up to look at him.

“My love. Please. I need to wrap your hand. Can I bring you to the couch?” he asked, peering through your eyes for an answer.

You slightly nodded your head, barely noticeable. But George, he saw it. He always saw it. He could read you better than anyone in the world. The moment he saw your head move, he scooped his arm under your bent legs and placed his other one across your back and under your arms. You turned your head into his shoulder as he gently move to place you on the couch, your back pressed to the arm of the chair. You pulled your knees up on the couch, moving your heels to touch your bottom. Splayed out across the table in front of you were bandages and a wrap for your hand. As the tears began finding themselves more and more scarce at the hope of relief, the smaller of the words at the back of your throat began to find their way out.

“Georgie?” you asked, coming out in a high-pitched whimper.

His deep, worrying eyes looked to you, hands finding your cheeks. He followed your eyes to the table and the equipment laying on it. An embarrassed blush came to his cheeks as his brows furrowed. Supplies. It was pathetic, he thought. He should’ve been the one being punished. But instead, it was you and there was absolutely nothing he could do except for find some simple supplies. Unable to even think about sleeping, he had snuck his way over to Madame Pomfrey in the medical wing as soon as you had exited the Common Room. He asked her for some supplies and after more than a lot of convincing that everything was okay and that he wasn’t up to anything that would get her in trouble, she suspiciously obliged. He knew you would refuse to see her anyways, not wanting to take up her time. And deep down, he too knew that there was not much she would be able to do for you, no matter how much he begged. Afterall, this was a punishment enacted by Umbridge herself, and no matter how much she wanted to, Pomfrey could not disregard the rules set in place by the self-proclaimed headmaster and inquisitor.

He turns back to you quickly trying to cover the look of shame and guilt on his face.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” his voice breaks, tears of his own forming.

You could see him fighting with his own mind over something that you were sure would split your heart right down the middle.

“George?” you squeaked out once more.

“I’m so sorry…It’s my fault. I was behind in class. It should’ve been me. Not you. I should’ve protected you, I-,” he finally lets it all come rushing out.

You cut him off by placing your good hand on his cheek, giving him a difficult and very broken smile. Your voice comes out raspy from the sobs you had forced down but determined now, as soon as you hear the pain in George's own voice. “No. This decision was mine, George. All mine…” you give the faintest of laughs, almost in disbelief. “And yet, I can’t find the mind to regret it… I would do it again… and again.”

He leaned into your touch, eyes wincing as you revealed to him that you would take this punishment and this pain for him once again.

“Look at me?” you whispered.

He brought his eyes up to meet yours. Your voice was a little bit clearer now, although wavering ever so slightly.

“My decision. Please do not take that away from me, Georgie. It was my decision to make, and I am so glad that I did. You are so smart. You know that, right?” You looked up at him from under your eyelashes through the now silent and mild tears that streamed down your face.

He shook his head. He couldn’t bring himself to even begin to describe himself as smart. If that were true, he thought, he would’ve found a way to be there with you. If that were true, you wouldn’t have been there at all. He couldn’t understand, how through all of the terror and pain, you were the one to comfort him. He simply began to unwrap the bandages from their place on the table and started to wrap them tightly around your hand to stop the blood from dripping any longer, a lot of it starting to dry already. When he was finished, you took your good hand and placed it on his cheek once again. You pulled him into a sweet, soft, salty kiss.

“Smart. Clever. Kind. Brave. Gentle,” you muttered these words in his ear as you rested your head on his shoulder, and he once again pulled you into his lap, this time, towards him.

“The strongest girl I know, so beautiful, so loving…,” he muttered back, caressing your hair, trailing off into magical, sweet nothings that mean quite everything to both of you.

“I love you, Georgie,” you whisper.

“I love you, darling,” he says.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” you ask the beautiful, ginger boy that you love so dearly.

“I will always stay with you, my love,” he says as he begins to lift your body from the couch to carry to your dorm. There the two of you find comfort in each other’s embrace, finally drifting off into a deep sleep.

[pyroclastic727]

The Marvels is being scathed by critics, and that's a good thing.

I finally saw The Marvels today. I'm a bit late to the party, so all I saw about the movie was the teaser at the end of Ms Marvel, and way too many critical reviews of it.

Now, obviously on Tumblr you find the good reviews, like, the cats outnumbering the white men and how Kamala Khan is, like, basically all of us. But in person, I've had someone tell me that it's bad because Rotten Tomatoes rates it 43%, which-- besides wondering why anyone would listen to Rotten Tomatoes, I'd have to wonder why the website would give it such a low rating. The easy answer is that the Tomatoes review committee is populated by white men, who, upon having no one to relate to, react badly to the movie. But I think there's more to it.

The Marvels is a revolution. Through its character-driven writing and brazen exploration of morality, it rewrites the superhero formula completely, by questioning what exactly it means to be a superhero.

The Marvels was directed by Nia DaCosta, an award-winning Harlem native and creative visionary whose approach to this film was to define these characters as humans, not as superheroes. Her approach to heroism directly addresses that the idea that a hero is not always right. A hero, DaCosta claims, is "someone who's trying their best with the information and tools they have at the time. They'll always get it wrong." Carol Danvers's arc directly addresses this, as the resolution of her subplot involves her re-igniting the sun that she snuffed out. Her heroic act is to undo the damage that she wrought.

When compared to old Marvel, this message just doesn't come through. In WandaVision, Wanda's grief is for a family that was killed by the Avengers. Yet, she is painted as a villain, even as she searches for a happy home, even as she at one point joins the Avengers. The Avengers cannot undo what they did, and don't really try. They defeat the big bad, sacrifice their lives, but nothing brings back Wanda's family. Nothing undoes that war. No one searches for Wanda after the event, to try to help her with her grief, except for Monica, and she's working against orders. Their heroics are militant, but while they excel at destruction, they leave the people they hurt in the dust.

This antiheroic plot of old Marvel is precisely what appealed to so many American audiences. Their protagonists are: a rich corporation, a super-soldier, a privileged teenager, a scientist who makes weapons, an ex-convict, a man born into godlike power, and I'm sure there are others but I don't actually care that much... (these would be iron man, captain america, peter parker spiderman, hulk, antman, thor, and etc). All these archetypes appeal to American ideals that the wealthy would sympathize with. They claim that there are people who are inherently bad and seek the power that they have, in the way that a poor person might want a job that a wealthy person wants their child to secure. They claim that it is their business to save those which cannot save themselves, and use this to get involved in wars that are not theirs, and beat up badguys whose backstory they have no way of knowing-- and they punch before they stop and listen.

They are cops in every sense of the word. The responsibility of the vigilante is to defend against evil, but part of that responsibility is to figure out who exactly is evil and who is in need of help.

The Marvels creates a team that tries to distinguish evil from good, and delves into the grey area between them. The final battle between Carol Danvers and Dar-benn has the superhero pinning the grey-haired antagonist to the ground as she begs for, then demands, that Carol fix what she damaged. Monica urges her to listen. Through this, The Marvels argues that a hero does not always beat up the bad guy and fight against unrelenting evil, but that a hero can be wrong, and that a hero can reconsider. It's kindness in the way that is revolutionary, where it's much easier to choose cruelty.

The fact that the movie is getting torn apart by critics, then, is not just because it is a "girls movie" or it doesn't have a strong white man for the white male viewer to sympathize with. The Marvels cannot appeal to Marvel fans because it rewrites the genre itself. It takes a film series whose purpose was to depict the struggles of cops, of the wealthy, of people with too much power who are trying to learn how to responsibly wield it, but don't. And it gives that power to people who have watched superheroes try and fail, who are slowly learning to be better heroes than the ones before them.

The next generation is a critique of the last, a group trying not to make the mistakes of the chosen ones that came before them, and as such, the movie exists to critique the movies that came before it. Therefore, a viewer of Marvel who would positively review it, due to sympathizing with the previous heroes and enjoying the power fantasy, would dislike it out of its existence being critical and contradictory to the films they like themselves.

The Marvels is not for Marvel fans-- at least, not those who saw the Avengers as purely heroes. Instead, the film reaches out to people who would have been against the old Avengers, who want a story that dismantles the unquestioned idealism of superheroes and writes about people trying to protect their communities and the people they care about.

So, let the critics complain. The MCU is shedding its roots as a pro-cop and pro-colonialism power fantasy, and evolving into an exploration of what it means to be a true hero.

[butchpeace]

On anon just because I’m a “cryptoterf”, otherwise I would have responded to the ugly post.

I don’t know you or your life or what you look like. I don’t know what you qualify as ugly (most women who think themselves ugly are moreso average).

But, assuming you are ugly. The most incredible woman I’ve ever met was tall and fat and ugly. She was my 10th grade english teacher.

She was built like a linebacker, had chin-length hair that tightly coiled in a way that was decidedly unfashionable for the time, and long dark hairs grew on her chin and and cheeks. Her fashion sense was absolutely nuts, sometimes she would come dressed in a ruffly flowing skirt and an old-timey corset-like stay. She had a booming voice and a presence to her.

She was honest to god the best teacher I’d ever had, and one of the most fascinating women. She’d spent time working a fishing boat in alaska, she’d done wilderness tours, she became an english teacher despite being dyslexic.

She took absolutely every “ugly” thing about her and made it hers. Hell, her name was Schmelzenbach. She would respond to “Ms Schmelz.” On paper, it seemed like she was easy to bully. But she took every thing about her and made it her own, proudly. Came at the world so unabashedly herself that others couldn’t help but to follow suit. Taught with such competence that nobody could disrespect her. She was creative, nerdy, and silly, yet no-nonsense.

Maybe you’re ugly. I don’t know. But take every part of you and make it yours. Maybe men didn’t lust after her. But god, 10th grade me looked at her with stars in my eyes.

Love this!

[onceinawhilemoon]

The Tale of The Empty House Quest and The Power of Imagination

There's something that I haven't noticed before in the ending credits of SHCO.

The credits show Stonewood Manor in a “past vs. present” sequence. We see the rooms as they were in the past: vibrant, warm, and beautiful, before they transform into the present: dark, cold, and ramshackled.

But the present here isn't just the present; it's Sherlock’s present while he was staying in the manor, and we can see ALL THE AUCTIONED PIECES THAT WE'VE BEEN BUYING THROUGHOUT THE GAME and even that sketch of Ms. Nini's fugly thief in Sherlock's room.

Like, I did wonder how Sherlock managed to refurbish and repaint every room and make them look as good as new all by himself with just a scant few items of furniture, but I never really gave it much thought, simply attributed it to game logic and rolled with it.

BUT THAT'S THE THING. He never really did.

I did wonder how Sherlock put his hand through the lit fireplace to retrieve Mycroft's key, and didn't give it much thought either because again, game logic, but that fireplace was never lit to begin with.

To Sherlock, when he set to “refurbish” the manor–which entailed him buying whatever auctioned items he could find still being sold around Cordona because like a decade had passed–and to us playing as him as we progressed in the Tale of the Empty House quest, the house started to look warm and colorful and beautiful:

In reality, though, they were just those items that he restored here and there and everything else HE WAS SEEING IN HIS OWN MIND and the ending credits show us what the manor actually looked like while we were in it:

Which means that the entire time that we were running around the house with Jon and that beautiful soundtrack as we reminisced and lovingly renovated and decorated it with trophies and case memorabilia, we were running around that same dark, cold, decaying building from the start of the game, except for those little additions here and there...

And if you look at the restored items, you’ll notice how the family portrait is still unveiled, the carpet isn't fully rolled out, Jon’s bed isn't positioned against the wall like it should have been, and there's a covered painting atop the closet in Sherlock's room that didn't originally belong there.

Everything that we reclaimed from the shops looks messily and hurriedly put together–Sherlock is a one man after all and a very busy one–and yet, his creativity and imagination were powerful enough to fill in the rest.

All this time we spent in the “refurbished” Stonewood Manor, we were simply living inside a memory. We were in Sherlock's mind seeing a product of his imagination so vivid that it created a real sense of presence in the revived manor–as real as Jon was to him–despite the actual state of disrepair.

I don't know why it never occurred to me before. It's pretty obvious now, and it makes so much sense; there was no way Sherlock was going to find everything that was auctioned still being sold and intact (and he didn't, the items he found were like 10 or 13 tops) and make the house look like that all by himself. He could have hired people to repaint and clean and bought similar furniture, I guess, but that's just far-fetched to me. He barely even spent time in the manor to put all of this extra effort on renovations.

I sobbed uncontrollably when I realized this sgsjiwise (the ending credits already make me so weak, especially with that damned music UGH).

I don't know. There's something so bittersweetly pure about him trying to reclaim the space that was once his own with whatever minimal resources he had available. Whatever he couldn't find, he simply substituted with creativity and imagination, and that was enough to imbue the space with warmth and a real sense of home sweet home. It's almost reminiscent of the way a child plays make-belief. I think it's a beautiful testament to the power of imagination, how it has the ability to transform environments and create a sense of belonging.

And then, just like 10 years ago as if he still lived there, he went around and put up posters and trophies and memorabilia, despite knowing that he wasn't staying there for long, and that once he left, it was forever. It's like he wanted to experience what it was like living in the manor one last time, leaving one last imprint saying, “I was here.”

I wonder what Mycroft thought of it all when he came back later to check on Sherlock. He must have at least gone through the entire ground floor in order to get to the back garden, so he must have seen all the restored items and the very personal traces of his brother's short-lived presence scattered among the junk and clutter of their dilapidated old home. I imagine they starkly stood out not just because they were not supposed to be there, but because of how they were like little touches of life in an otherwise dead and quiet space that'd been dead and quiet for a long time..

I really admire how FW managed to set up the sense of nostalgia in this game. Not just nostalgia, but “vicarious nostalgia”. I kept having that wistful longing for places I haven't personally been and experiences I haven't personally lived but felt very connected to through Sherry's (and Jon's) memories and stories (there's like a German word for this phenomenon I'm pretty sure but I forgor) but I guess SHCO does tab into something for all of us, right? Childhood innocence and memories, imaginary friends, leaving your childhood home and coming back years later... There's a little something there for everyone to relate to, I think.

[otterglimmie]

Cuphead, Mugman And Ms Chalice Headcanon (+ Interpretation)

// This will be a mix of canon information i have with my headcanons and interpretation, it will be about the three main characters of Cuphead, as you can see. This post is going to be longer than the other 2 last headcanons because I'm going to be more specific, sorry.

Cuphead

• Adventurous: He likes to go out and explore the world outside, It may involve some objective like riches or whatever, but still, he enjoys trying new experiences and exploring new places.

• Confidence: He is sure of themelve and his abilities, not in an arrogant way. He belief in their own decisions and actions

• Careless and Cheeky: He prefers to live in the moment and not worry too much about it, he doesn't think much about the consequences of his actions. he doesn't take things too seriously and he can lack respect or politeness, this sometimes, can be quite annoying to deal with.

• Charming yet Troublemaker: He is very brawler, proactive and inpulsive, he tend to causes problems alot, but he can be assertive and charismatic. He can make friends easily due to his friendliness, jokes and social skills.

• Hot Head: he's the type to get into fights without thinking twice, if someone messes with him or his friends he will fight and won't stop (unless somebody make him stop), It doesn't matter who it is.

• Loyal and Kind hearted: He is loyal to his family and friends, He wouldn't think twice before helping someone (his impulsive side can be good sometimes) he is friendly and kind with anyone who is nice.

• Naive but Clever: Being a child, he is innocent and tends to quickly believe in someone. But yet, he's clever, he tends to solve problems in a creative ways of own gain.

• Extras: He's a jokester. Likes seafood, honey and marmalade. His nose glows in the dark if you touch it, like Rudolph (This last one is a joke... almost)

Mugman

• Meek: He is calmer and peaceful compared to his hot headed brother, He doesn't like to get involved in hand to hand fights (only if is necessary... or force to)

• Cautious: He is also more careful about not getting into trouble, contrary to his brother, He prefers to stay out of.

• Observer: He is great at noticing little things, gestures and details that no one else can. (He would make a great detective)

• Reasonable: He has more common sense and is the most sensible brother, Always trying to resolve things calmly and without discussions

• Fun loving: But appearances can be deceiving, despite being a great opposite to his brother, he loves an adventure, for the same reasons as his brother. Exploring and discovering new places, Having fun outside, enjoying nature and playing with friends

• Playful: He doesn't like to be bored and prefers to have fun in some creative way, he is always willing to participate in a variety of arts,sports,activities, whenever he can do.

• Dorky: There are times when he prefers to take a break from adventures and playtime to read a book or finish some schoolwork. He may be seen as a nerd for this but he doesn't care.

• Extra: He likes mint ice cream. Likes to practice planting and botanic. His nose makes a noise, like a clown's nose.

Ms Chalice

• Friendly: She likes to be surrounded by her friends and also likes to make new ones, she much prefers to be accompanied by them than alone in an empty place.

• Extroverted: She is great at socializing and tends to make friends very easily thanks to your kindness and social butterfly attitude, meeting new people is always welcoming for her.

• Curios: Having been a ghost and been trapped in the maloseum for decades, She would be dying (sorry for the pun) to know what's out there in the world. After returning to life, she didn't miss the opportunity to explore and venture outside, but she always get into trouble thanks to his curiosity.

• Plucky and confidence: she is a brave gal, who faced worse things before, she's not afraid to take risks and stand of others. She's self-assured, she's belief in their abilities and has a sense of trust in their own decisions and actions

• Headstrong but Stubborn: (On occasions) Likes to do things her way and the way she understands, She believes in what she believes and rarely changes her mind when contradicted, if she wants to do something (good or bad) she does it and no one is going to make her change her mind

• Troublemaker: Just like Cuphead, she doesn't sit still and gets into trouble thanks to her challenging attitude and stubbornness, She's very vocal about what she thinks, too stubborn to stop and very curious about everything around her, leading her to trouble.

• Clever: She always tends to think or find solutions quickly, She is agile and ingenious to come up with an idea to solve a problem.

• Extras: She likes flowers like daffodil and marigold. She likes music and dancing. She has Kenophobia

[mrghostrat]

Hello!! I'm not new to writing but I am absolutely new to writing fanfiction and have been extremely nervous to even start doing that, do have any suggestions on where to start so I don't make it accidentally it's own story just using someone else's character names? ( I mean that in a sense of accidentally altering their personalities and other components that would be really important) Because chances are I probably won't notice while doing it and probably think it's fine. I'm really really bad at not noticing mistakes until it's too late to fix them but I have a fic idea that I think would be really cool and I don't know how to go about it without doing it terribly.

Here's a random pic I took this afternoon, I dunno just the way you describe scenes I figured you'd enjoy the atmosphere of it?

1. this picture is stunning, my god, it's giving me chills. so beautiful, thank you for sharing 👁️👁️

2, i think dialogue is probably one of the biggest components of characterisation, so linking back to canon dialogue can be a really helpful and easy way of keeping your characterisation in check. quite literally an exercise in "would he fucking say that?"

you've probably noticed how much i love using canonical lines from the show like this, even though i'm usually taking them out of their original context. as a reader, hearing dialogue in MS/DT's voices can be very grounding, and as a writer, it can keep you in line as you write their conversations.

i also like trying to create a parallel between events and decisions in my fic vs the canon. something tiny: in ATWS chapter 3, crowley orders takeaway and convinces aziraphale to get something too. in my initial plan, he was going to say no and wave crowley away/be a bit holier than thou, but when i made the takeaway food bbq ribs (like the ox rib), i realised it was literally aziracrow 101 for crowley to tempt him successfully into things, especially food. so i made aziraphale say yes, and simply act put out about it.

you'd think these kinds of parallels would be more important on a grander scale, but i like comparing every little decision to the canon, even if it's only for a moment, to think about how they'd act in that situation. it could be an entirely different universe but they can still be the same characters who make the same decisions as an angel and demon would.

3. a lot of people would say that it doesn't matter, that you can write whatever you want even if it's wholly out of character and just has their names attached to it. even though that's not the kind of fan fiction i like to read and write, it's still valid, and the most important thing is that you're having fun and being creative. basically, don't sweat it if it's not perfect.

[96z]

could you do your mutuals as seventeen songs with a reason for each one?

sorry this took me a gazillion years to answer 😭😭😭🙂‍↕️ SHAME…. i have a solid 100 mutuals so i can’t do everyone but here are a few for you!

theo / @hongtonie: kidult

theo gives me such kidult energy in the way they just care so deeply. the whole nostalgia meets comfort vibe of this song just screams theo to me idk 😭😭😭 it’s the way the lyrics acknowledges how hard things can feel but still offers so much solace?? fantastic give me 14 of them… it’s literally theo in song form. holding both of them gently in my hands fr

zay / @jeonwonwoo: healing

to me zaynab feels like such a grounding presence. that said healing is so her vibe bc its soft, impactful, and warm in this way where you don’t even realize how important it is. she’s always been that steady friend who says the perfect thing without even trying. title track on a playlist called zay tbh 🤭

max / @scouped: snap shoot

this one is so easy its insane LMFAO. max has this very funloving, carefree energy that radiates snap shoot. the song is chaotic and sweet at the same time and max to me is like one of those ppl who makes everything feel like a moment if that makes sense?? life’s a movie kind of people, vibrant and fun and therefore this is basically their theme song thanks

teo / @ashmp3: rock with you

rwy personified no i am not accepting criticism. there’s this perfect mix of devotion and passion in the song that is very ms teo. plus lbr teo is definitely a lover at heart which is WHYYY the rwy id do anything for you theme fits beautifully thx. PLUS it’s stylish and fun which come ONNNNN do i even have to say it

mary / @chwedout: together

mary is the kind of person who makes everyone feel like they belong (carat awards 2024 most supportive carat HELLOOOOO????) so together is just so perfectly mary coded. the lyrics being ab being there for eo through everything…. marycore ✨✨✨✨

maddie / @jeonwon-wonwoo: smile flower

MADDIEEEEE she’s the kind of person who makes you remember that there’s good in the world 😌😌😌 no matter what’s going on she’s so warm and kind and that leaves an impact on everyone who knows her. ERGO smile flower is her soundtrack, soft, comforting, and beautiful <33

al / @ikjun: imperfect love

al radiates this like?? deep, introspective energy that is so unique and special and i think imperfect life suits that perfectly. its all about appreciating beauty in everything, even flawed things and finding meaning in the little things which reminds me so much of them idk. al is so creative and kindhearted which is very suited to the vibe of this song

belle / @ishikawayukis: come to me

idk how to explain this but IMOOO belle has this almost mysterious energy then beneath that she’s just very comforting and kind. come to me is soft and pulls you in?? like the kind of thing that just makes you feel loved without really trying. belle is the person i love seeing on my dash because she just gives off this very calm n steady presence so i think this song fits her rly well

em / @facethesuns: our dawn is hotter than day

em is odihtd to a t idc! she radiates this warm nd lovely energy that surround u like a hug 🥹 this song is all abt celebrating precious moments and that’s how i think of em hehehehe

tris / @bandzboy: black eye

well OBVIOUSLY tris needs a vernon solo but it works out bc black eye fits her perfectly✨✨ its a song thats unapologetic, fierce, and creative which is triscore at its finest. she has that passionate energy that makes you want to get ur ass up make something happen if that makes sense LMAO

j / @vcrnons: doremi

my beloved j <3 she has this soft, warm energy, but there’s also this undertone of depth and like?passion?? that really makes her stand out. doremi is rly playful and sweet but still has enough weight to feel meaningful which feels like j’s presence ! shes the type who will make you laugh and feel seen at the same time 💖💖💖

v / @wonboos: change up

v is change up if it gave birth to a person and for the record that’s the first time that sentence has ever been uttered in the history of mankind 🤭🙂‍↕️ u guys are the first to read it, onefor the history books fr. ANYWAYS they are super vibrant and entertaining and they remind me of the kind of person everyone gravitates to because they always bringing the best vibes ✨ change up has a super upbeat n iconic energy that fits them v well

yena / @fairyhaos: hug

from the moment me n yena became mutuals her kindness and empathy were so pure and evident nd i think everyone who meets her picks up on that right away. WHICH IS WHY hug was an immediate pick for her bc it’s all about warmth and comfort which is actually the very definition of yenacore mhm yes🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ shes that person who makes you feel loved just by existing THEREFORE she is hug

ali / @kimsmingyu: clap

aliiiiiii 💖💖💖 ali is so dynamic and fun, and she feels to me like the kind of person who can bring the energy no matter what. u guys are just sitting there bored as hell then BOOM ali. SO clap is a perfect match for her bc its entertaining and uplifting much like herrrrr, and its got that whole life of the party vibe goin on teehee

kashi / @jeonsupershy: thanks

they wrote this song about kashi did u guys even know. plus it’s my fav u get my fav seventeen song ever kashi… the song that made me a carat as if i haven’t said that 10000 times. ANYWAYS this song is quite literally an anthem of appreciation. imo it suits kashi bc she is the type of person who loves things very deeply and expresses that love in the most thoughtful ways. have u guys seen her bday gifsets for the members… no further comment 💅 ANYWAYS its so heartfelt and dedicated and i think that matches her energy beautifully

[tadc-harlequin-au]

(I apologize in advance, color meaning is a hyperfixation of mine. Probably has no significance at all in your thing, but the brain has been possessed.)

Now color can have several different interpretations of meanings.

Pomni's main colors are red, blue, and grey. Red usually symbolizes aggression (obviously, look at Anger from Inside Out), but also confidence, strength and courage. Blue is seen as more a calming color, we're not even gonna bring up sadness because it's. Kind of obvious, too. But blue can also represent aloofness. Grey is neutral, yes, but also represents boredom. (The more you know).

Caine's main colors are yellow and also red. See above for some representations of red. But it also represents passion and energy, along with love and strength. Yellow is kind of obvious all around, representing happiness and friendliness. But it also represents caution. Hence the bright yellow of those Wet Floor signs.

Ragatha's main colors are red, white and blue. So uh. See Pomni above for some representations already. But I'm assuming we're going a calmer/less aggressive route for our girl over here. Red also represents love. In Ragatha's case, blue seems to be more of the conservative, stable and reliable. White symbolizes purity and cleanliness. See also: churches

Jax, red and purple. I'm assuming we're going the more aggressive representation of red for this man right here, so probably strength and probably some anger issues. Purple, in some cases, represents royalty? For some reason? Idk man. It also represents creativity, wisdom and magic. That explains why a lot of Ms. Frizzle's dresses are purple. Anyway.

Gangle is a bit of a mystery, because due to the lighting, I can't tell if it's red or magenta. I'm going with magenta. Anyway, it can represent kindness, gentleness and compassion along with tolerance. Then there's depression as a representation. So uh. Take that as you will.

Z is a very, very dark purple with grey and brown. Wisdom for purple, but brown and grey's interpretations are interesting to me. Grey is neutral, as stated previously, along with boredom, but in this case, I think practicality (my dyslexic ass probably didn't spell that right) and seriousness fit more. Brown represents warmth but also stability. Interesting.

My man Kingr is two different shades of purple with light blue thrown in. Royalty/regality for purple, along with wisdom. There is some white thrown in, so Imma throw in athe hop and/or emptiness representation of white. Blue represents reliability and loyalty, which I find ironic, considering the type of model (most likely didn't refer to that right) Kingr is.

Anyway, I apologize, I'm sleep deprived and my author brain went "hey, what if".

No no, don't apologize. Colors DO have a significance to this AU like I've admitted in my confession about who the Patriarch is.

I don't have to correct most of your observations here as they are very much accurate (well done), so I'll only point out the ones you're specifically missing.

Pomni's is not only reds and blues as a callback to TADC Pomni, but also white and yellows. Greys have a significance to Pomni's arc that I'm not yet ready to disclose as of the moment, as the arc hasn't even begun yet, though your observation is still quite accurate nonetheless. Whites represent her "purity", but in a different, darker sense; her individuality is almost scrubbed clean due to what she went through. Reds and blues are actually inspired by the ideologies of the Philippine flag too, where if reds are on top, it means a war is afoot.

Pomni's war is not all external, it is also internal to her as her soul fragments fights against the overpowering yet broken directive that's currently puppeteering her.

Jax is also accurate (though purples don't represent royalty, it represents his creativity/adaptability, with immatureness and emotional instability), but you've also missed cyan. Cyans for him represent his calm, laid-back/carefree attitude that's can also be borderline indifference.

I am curious as to what you mean by Kingr though, as he is pretty loyal to the gang to the point of putting himself in line of danger if he deemed it necessary for everyone else's benefit/survival. He's on the process of abandoning old ideals of "every man for themselves".