#that she cannot be the ‘good Christian wife’ that he deserves

[shadowglens]

siggi and finan are married right before the start of season 4, after becoming close during the time jump.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In The Cold

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, social dejection, mentions of religion, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: Your Christmas is set to be a lonely one, but you do your best to share the cheer with your only friend.

Character: Arvin Russell

Day Seven of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - cottage!core 

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The tension is something you’ll never be used to. The silence is as bad as the hushed voices and the sneering side looks. It's all so suffocating. 

So much as you might’ve earned your judgement, it cannot make them righteous. What was it the pastor extolled; ‘let he who be without sin...’ And why is it that the stones they cast are aimed at you and not the man who joined you in your misdeed? The very one who cozened you into the act?  

Henry still sits on the town council, he still goes home to his wife and other children, he still gets a ‘good morning’ or a ‘good day’, and none bat a single eye along the pew. You can’t even get the same from him these days. He’s a stranger now that your dresses are too tight and your gait is wider and wobbly. Now that his adultery has grown inside of you and continues to, he runs from it. 

You pay at the counter for your meagre fare. Janie fired you not long after the minister’s scolding and none-so-subtle remonstrance of straying innocence. Like your mother and father, she abandoned you to your dejection. You would not stain her Christian mantle. 

The shopkeep, Ted, packs up your goods in the bag without a word. He drops your change on the counter and turns away as you gather it up. Despite that, you still thank him. You lift the bag and hug it above your bump. 

You keep your head down as Esther steps up to the counter with her basket. She makes a comment about the holiness of the coming holidays. Of how Jesus’ birthday should be kept sacred. You know she means you to hear but you don’t show that you do. 

You step out into the chilly winds as they swirl around with a gust of powder. You nearly collide with another as you do. The chuckle that comes with the near-catastrophe eases your nerves. In an instant, the weight is scooped out of your arms. 

“There ya’are,” Arvin greets. He’s the only person in town who talks to you.  

In fact, he’s the only reason you have a place to lay your head. He did up his old shed so you could live there for a while. A barter you insisted on. What would people think if you accepted his invitation to stay in the spare room? Surely worse than the already do. He does not deserve to be tainted by you. 

“You all done for the day?” You ask as you keep your arms crossed. 

“Oh yeah,” he answers brightly, “what’d you get? Anything good...” he sniffs the top of the bag, “I smell cinnamon.” 

You chew your lip, “yeah...” 

You glance at him. He wears his fleece lined denim jacket, the collar greyed with age and a button missing on the right chest pocket. It’s not really enough for that kinda cold. Knockemstiff lives up to its name quite often and the winter will be sure to freeze your bones. 

“Sorry, I’m being nosy,” he chuckles. “You want some candy? Got some in my pocket. Mr. Callahan sent them in with Edwin.” 

“Oh, no, I’m okay,” you blow into your woolen mittens. It’s bitter these days. “Um, I was hopin’... I could make ya dinner tonight. Since ya done so much for me. ‘Fraid I don’t got much else to give right now.” 

“That’d be awfully nice,” he accepts with a bounce in his step, “here.” He shifts the weight of the bag into one arm and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a long shape wrapped in brown paper, the top twisted and tied with ribbon. “Butterscotch.” 

“Arvin, I told ya--” 

“I got lots,” he insists. 

You take it with a thank you. You continue down the packed snow. He’s entirely oblivious to the way Charmain passes with a glare but you feel it in your chest. 

“I was thinking, before the baby comes,” you swallow as the thought bubbles up from the pits of constant dread. “I should leave.” 

“Leave?” He wonders aloud. He looks over at you as snow gathers in his hair, the cold nipping pink his cheeks. He’s two years older than you but looks and seems much younger than you. “Where to?” 

“I got an Aunt a few townships over. She’s the only one still answering my letters. She never had no kids of her own. They all... none of ‘em made it, ya know? I been writing to her and that.” 

“Oh,” his disappointment tweaks in his throat. “Well, you don’t gotta, you know? I don’t mind ya stickin’ ‘round.” 

“I mind. You been so kind already. Once I got the babe, no one gonna take me then neither. No work here, and I’ll be lucky to get a pew on Sundays.” 

“Yeah, well, all these folks be saying they’re godly and how do they act?” His tone edges hotly. “Ain’t godly to turn a soul out. My mama always said so. No soul’ll make it through this world with a dent or two, but the lord’ll forgive.” 

“Mm, she sounds like a nice lady,” you say. 

“She was,” he sniffs. “And so I wouldn’t be puttin’ no shame on her memory by bein’ selfish, ya know? So’s as long as you need it, the shed is yours. I told ya, though, there’s a room inside.” 

“No, no,” you loosen the ribbon and peek inside the paper. The candy stick of twisted sugar is all shades of caramelly brown. You smell it and it plucks at your bottomless hunger. “I don’t mind it. Pa never had the stove goin’ less the snow was past our knees. He always says, if you’re cold, put another sweater on.” 

“Huh,” he scoffs darkly. 

“What?” 

“Yer pa’s the reason you’re in my shed,” he harrumphs. “Sorry for sayin’ it, but I wouldn’t take no advice from a man who’d disown his own blood. He’s the one brought Henry ‘round. They still gettin’ drinks down at the tank.” 

That information is more chilling than the cold. You didn’t know that. You try not to hear things about your father or the man who put this curse in you. 

“I...” he begins crisply, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t gonna tell ya.” 

“Woulda found out soon enough,” you shrug and shove the butterscotch stick in your mouth. You suck on it pensively. It’s sweet but you can hardly enjoy it as your eyes burn with a glaze of tears. 

“So,” he coughs, “what’s for dinner?” 

You pop your lip off the candy, “it’s a surprise,” you say. 

“Oh, I like surprises,” he smiles, not that he ever really stops. Not around you. 

“Well, I hope you like this one,” you drone. 

💝 

You wash the plates from dinner as dessert bakes in the oven. The smell of cinnamon fills the house as you hear Arvin tinkering in the next room. He’s always messing around with something mechanical. You’re not always sure if he’s fixing them or just taking them apart. 

You dry and stack the dishes away. The old house is cozy, quaint. You know it belonged to his parents. It’s still strewn with their memories. As if he’s preserving them in those walls. So you do your best not to disturb it. 

You take the pan out of the oven. The rolled-out dough is perfectly baked and the colour is pristine. The shape resembles their namesake; elephant ears. It’s only dough, sugar, and cinnamon, but so so delicious. Your grandmother used to make them. Despite your current predicament, you’re nostalgic for the simper days. 

You put one on a plate and peek at the doorway. You pause to dig out the parcel you hid under the sink then bring both items out to the front room. You keep the latter behind your back as you approach Arvin. He sits on the floor in front of the burning firestove as he pokes at an old clock with a screwdriver. 

“Here ya go,” you offer him the dessert. “I could make some coffee or tea?” 

“Nah, I’m good,” he puts down the clock and tool, then wipes his hand on the cloth draped over his knee. He reaches up to the take the plate. “Smells good.” He brings the dish down to examine the pastry, “what is it?” 

“Called an elephant ear. Not super fancy.” 

“Looks good,” he grins. “And what’s that?” 

He lifts the baked dough and bites into it as he angles his head as if to see around you. You bring your hand out and present the parcel. 

“Merry Christmas,” you say. “I know it’s not much, and a bit early but it’s gettin’ real cold.” 

He places the plate on the rug and claps his hands off as he chews. His dark eyes sparkle as he takes the bundle wrapped in brown paper. He brings it over his lap and carefully unties the twine. You sway on your feet and rub your stomach as you watch anxiously. 

He uncovers the knitted scarf and cap. He already has thick gloves that he wears for his work. He feels the wool and examines it quietly. You’re suddenly very unsure. 

“You made these? For me?” He looks up. You nod. “Wow, it’s... you lined the cap?” 

“I had a few old pieces I repurposed,” you shrug. 

“It’s...” 

“Not too much. I know. I’m sorry. I don’t make too much these days. People only hire me if no one knows and it’s gettin’ harder to sneak around.” 

He huffs and shakes his head. He lowers his chin and pets the scarf. “It’s everything.” He continues to examine your work. “I hope you don’t mind, my gift’s not ready yet.” 

“Oh, Arvin, you don’t gotta get me nothin’. You done enough.” 

“I want to,” he says. “Now,” he lays down the wool on the rug neatly and grabs his plate. He uncrosses his legs and stands. “Why aren’t you havin’ some dessert? You need to sit down. Let that baby rest. He mustn’t sleep very much with you titterin’ around all the time.” 

“He’s already titterin--” you go to argue and stop with snort. “I think he knows we’re talking about him.” 

You feel your stomach as the baby kicks. Arvin watches your hand on your belly as his brows rise up his forehead. “You think it’s a boy?” 

“Could be. Not too sure. Oof.” You twitch as the baby kicks harder. Then wince again as Arvin puts his hand on you without warning. It’s surprising but not unwelcome. His warmth seeps through your dress. 

“Oh!” He exclaims as the baby beats on your insides. “I can feel him.” 

“It’s a bit early,” you reach back to brace your hips, “he usually waits ‘til I’m in bed.” 

He keeps his hand on you, watching your belly as the baby continues his dance. He seems awestruck by the ripple under your skin. You’re more exhausted of it. 

“I’ll have your present ready soon,” he says. “Promise.” 

💝

Arvin’s truck rumbles up to the house. You were surprised when he drove it into town today. He doesn’t usually start it unless he’s going to fetch firewood or going off for long trips. 

You open the shed door, a blanket around your shoulders as you peek out. His headlights shine through the greyness. It’s still early by your count, unless you lost track again. 

He hops out and stomps through the snow. He waves at you as his hair curls out from under the cap you made him. He wears it every day. You’re happy for that. 

“Merry Christmas,” he calls out. 

“Christmas... it’s still two days away,” you stay behind the door to shield yourself from the winds. 

“Two days!” He claps as he approaches. “Since you gave me my gift early, I got yours ready too.” 

“Mine?” 

“Mmhm. You’re not the only one who can do surprises. So pack a bag.” 

“Pack...” you wonder. 

“Ah, ah, just get a bag, alright?” 

You can see him jittering in excitement. You hate to dampen that but you also feel bad. You made him a hat and scarf. He’s got something planned out that’s gonna at least cost him gas and his time. 

“Oh...” you murmur. 

“Don’t,” he wags a finger. “Really, come on! I wanna get there by dark.” 

“Alright, I’ll be fast.” 

You gently close the door and retreat. You can’t deny him. His words trouble you though. By dark? How far are you going? You don’t want him to do too much. 

You don’t have a lot to take. A few dresses that still fit, some stockings, your sole pair of boots, your coat, and other things just in case. It doesn’t sound like you’ll be coming back tonight. 

You come out in your coat and boots as Arvin keeps the truck idling. He meets you near the hood and takes your bag before he helps you up into the front seat. He gets in the other side and puts your bag between you. 

“Do I get a hint?” You ask. 

“Nope,” he shifts into gear. “Just hold tight.” 

💝

It’s a few hours before Arvin stops. Your eyes scour the sentinel pines all around and fall upon the painted wood of the cabin’s face. The porch pillars are stained a dark blue as the siding stands as white as the snow. It’s only the edgework along the window frames and door that make it visible amid the winterscape. 

You gasp, “Arvin?” 

“Surprise,” he exclaims. 

“What...” 

“My grandfather built this place. Ma’s dad. I been workin’ on it,” he proclaims. 

“Workin’ on it?” 

“Yep! Ma wouldn’t want you raisin’ that boy in a shed.” 

You mull his words and stare at the cabin. “Arvin, my aunt--” 

“I know, she’s a nice woman by the sounds of it. She can always come see us but you know, not many place around that’ll be as nice as her. Not when’s they see a mother with no husband.” 

You shrink down. He’s right. 

“But I’m not--” 

“Like I was saying,” he interjects, “you’re gonna be a mama. Means you need a proper house.” 

He doesn’t wait for you to argue. You don’t have any to offer as you reel in disbelief. Why would he do all this for you? It’s not his baby. You’re not his problem. 

He comes around and offers his hand. You climb out, gripping him tightly, as you flick away your tears. You sniffle and keep your head down as he leads you across the snowy yard. 

“You’re upset?” He asks as he kicks snow off the steps. 

“I’m... surprised,” you croak, trying to hide your face. “Arvin, it’s too much.” 

“Not much at all,” he counters. “But I got a new stove in and the fireplace real nice since I redid the bricks. And I got it all wired up to a gas generator.” 

“Oh,” you puff out as you climb the steps, still latched onto him. You hiccup as your tears flood over. 

“Oh?” He echoes. 

“Arvin,” you babble behind your hand. “Why-- why would you go and do all this for me?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” He tugs you toward the door. 

“But...” you choke on your words. 

You kick off your feet before you enter. He moves behind you, guiding you from behind with his hands on your arms. He stops you in a dark doorway. He lets go of you and you listen to him shifting around the dimness. He shines a flashlight into the front room. 

“Once I get the lights on, it’ll look better,” he assures. 

You shake your head, “it’s too much.” 

“Nothin’s too much,” he argues again. “Look, you need this place and you need me. You need a husband, don’t ya?” 

“Husband? Arvin, you can’t--” 

“I wanna.” 

“But--” 

“Baby boy’s not mine. No one else needa know. Them folks in Knockemstiff, the don’t go so far. And the next one will be mine. Maybe a girl--” 

“Next one?” 

“Uh huh, gonna give this one lots of brothers and sisters,” he puts his hand on your stomach. 

“I...” your heart sinks from on high. 

He’s quiet, measuring the silence as you do too. You peer into the front room then wince as he turns the light in your direction. You shield yourself as it shines in your eyes. 

“Well, you gonna tell me no?” His voice is low and silty. “Cause I don’t think no one’s gonna take you away from me. Ain’t no one else want you.” 

It’s like a knife sinking into your gut. Your frown and grab his hand, trying to shove it off your stomach. Why would he say that? He twists free of your grasp and clings to you instead. He turns the light under his chin so it casts his features in a sinister glow. 

“Without me, you and that baby’d be frozen to the side of the street,” he sneers. “All’s I’m tryna do is give you everything, you could at least do the same.” 

[4me2knowandyou2wonder]

As a fandom we have come to the conclusion that Graves has mommy issues. This got me thinking… So hi i'm here to talk about some of the southern parenting I’ve seen in the form of Graves’ mother head canons. Welcome!! (or at least I tried to do that jury is still out lol)

This post is dedicated to @captain-mj ! and is based on This poll where, we can all agree, the answer is Graves! LMAO

now, onto Mrs. Graves:

Phil's Mother is seen in her community as a kind and strong willed woman. People might describe her as ‘a joy to talk to,’ ‘always ready to offer a helping hand,’ and ‘a strong leader’ but there are also people in her community that refuse to describe her at all. ‘Oh do you know Mrs. Graves?’ these people may be asked. ‘We're not close,’ these people will reply, letting their tone carry the end of a topic.

This is because, to those who meet her in passing, she’s a wide smile, a southern drawl and sugary attitude—What they don’t see is this is all done because she is using kindness and charisma to craft a careful social narrative that is designed to keep criticism at bay, and people complacent. (Have you ever noticed that humans are more willing to let people who we consider ‘good’ get away with hurting others?) Mrs. Graves cannot handle anyone challenging her authority, and she is constantly fighting to make sure no one may question her.  

To those who spend more time with her, her personality becomes much more clear. She’s the woman who won’t hesitate to tell the farm hand what they’d done so wrong, the woman who will demand hard work and harder hours, the woman who is seemingly blind to the struggles of anyone who she deems under her. (Which is everyone except the people who will grant her social power btw.) 

Those who are unlucky enough to get closer to her have seen even more of the cracks in her mask. Mrs. Graves holds her power over the others heads, she will claim she deserves privileges beyond a reasonable expectation, she often uses the lord’s word as justification for unjustified opinions, and (in some cheap version of making herself look Better) Mrs. Graves complains about those she deems ‘under her social level’ to ‘peers.’

The largest crack in that ceramic smile, however—the one that reveals the raw flesh beneath—is how she treats her son. 

Her “mini me.”

Mrs. Graves enacted strict control over all activities Phil did. Privacy was a luxury not a right, and it was a luxury he didn’t have. “You shouldn’t have anything to hide,” was a common phrase uttered. Phil had limited and monitored access to any ideas outside of the christian ideals his mother wanted for him. Phil went to christian school, and any friends he was allowed to hang out with outside school hours were either from his church or approved by his mother. Phil didn’t fight this. He was a kid, this was his mother. She said she knew what was right for him, so she knew what was right for him. He liked it when his mother thought of him as a good son and letting her approve of all his friends would make her think that. 

Mrs. Graves used her husband’s authority for her own gain, using the “man of the house” as a tool to inflict her will. Mr. Graves’ parents did have a hand in his matrimony :/. They found him a nice christian woman for their good (read: bitter and emotionally closed) christian son. Mr. Graves shares the same perspective of gender roles as his wife… 

Actually I need to stop talking about Phil’s father, this is a post about mommy issues. 

Point is, if Phil did something wrong in Mrs. Graves eyes she would threaten Phil with his father’s wrath. And if Phil did something wrong in his father’s eyes his father would rage on his own. Phil hated disappointing his mother, but he feared making his father mad.

-

Phil’s mother of course forced him into community activities as much as she could, church groups, 4H, anything that had a community where her boy could make her look good. She would make him participate and do the best work he could even if he hated it, he had to win every paper boat race, every mini science fair. Sometimes she would do the work for him to make sure it was done ‘right.’ Mrs. Graves would berate Phil if he ever did anything that might make her look like a “bad parent” (Like losing the boat race … Ma’am please…)

Mrs. Graves also believes emotions are a weakness especially from women and believes emotions are simply not allowed for men either. Any Big feelings Phil showed as a kid were frowned upon and chastised. He was made to feel pathetic for fear, sadness, and even anger.

Mrs. Graves is unafraid to use humiliation to punish her son, she will happily drag him aside and chew him out in front of his friends. Sometimes it's a show for Mrs. Graves' friends, other times no one is around and she is just angry at something he did. 

As an example of how Mrs. Graves handled parenting, A kid on the playground once shoved Phil to the ground and stole the toy dino he was playing with. Phil wanted to cry, but “Buck up” was one of his mother’s favorite phrases, and Phil hated to be told to Buck Up so instead he got angry. He rips the dino out of the other kid's hand and yells at the other kid that he hates them. I’ll spare you a whole play by play about what happened and give you the footnotes:

-Phil gets his toy back, but his anger didn’t go unnoticed by his mother

-His mother realizes that the other Kid’s mother has now seen Phil act up and can’t handle the perceived judgment.

-everything Phil does she takes as a direct reflection on HER so she is blinded by this hit to her ego

-she now must prove to the other mother that she is a Good Mom who has her kid Under Control

-She yells at Phil, grabs his ear, forces him to apologize and gives the dino back to the other kid (it's Phil’s toy) she tells him they’re going home.

-the other kid has realized their own mistake and quietly gives Phil back his toy. 

-Mrs. Graves doesn’t realize Phil has the dino back until they’re in the car.

-She grabs the dino, breaks it and throws it out the car window

wow… That hurt to write

Anyway~

It wasn’t always bad, When Phil did something good he was showered in praise and affection. If he was cute for a picture, If he complimented his mother in front of her friends, or won a school competition (remember this reflects well on her), that's when life was good. She’d get all sweet, maybe they’d get ice cream later, or maybe she’d even tell him that she loves him.

I hope you’re picking up what I'm putting down: that Love was inherently conditional for Phil. 

But you see, Phil has known no other type. He never knew unconditional love, this was just how life was. As long as he worshiped his mother, sung her praises, was successful, was good and listened to what she asked, he was loved. As a long-term consequence of this Phil is always looking for praise and reassurance, he has deep rooted self worth issues that he can’t see.

-

Phil’s mom has always been described to him as powerful, a woman to respect, (no one is going to insult someone's mother to their face. Though they probably should have, because now…) Phil has internalized these ideas, and he can’t see how flawed his mother truly is. Phil has idolized his mother, becoming blind to her faults in some twisted compensation for all the pain she has caused him. (Phil is the type of person to say “sometimes I just needed a good slap” and MEAN IT.)

His worship of his mother was of course more extreme when he was a naive child. So during his tween and teen years when he was a bit more of his own person ‘all the sudden’ a rift definitely started to develop between him and his mother. 

Phil’s mother has always made jokes about never wanting Phil to grow up, never wanting him to stop being her little boy. Once he was grown they just shifted to wishing he never had. Sometimes when she’s feeling affectionate towards her son, (normally after being particularly doted on by her adult child,) she’ll say ‘You’ll always be a little kid to me.’ Phil thinks its praise, thinks its love. He can’t see how toxic the narrative is. She’s expressing love for the young kid who worshiped her, and denouncing the teen or adult that is his own person in front of her. ‘I wish you were still that little kid, I wish you’d never gotten bigger.’ These are words that hurt, but cut in a way that isn’t felt on the surface. 

(sorry, the timeline ran away from me. We’re going back to roughly Phil’s teen years again, weeee!)  

Speaking of hurt that isn’t felt on the surface! While corporal punishment wasn’t uncommon in the Graves’ household, 

(sometimes in the classical sense when he was younger, but also as a teen in the sense of off-handed corporal corrections, like the quick hards knocks over the head if he talks back, the swift yank of taking something from his hands, and kick in the shin under the table if he talked too much to guests about something that interested him.)

There was also an undercurrent of causal aggressive physicality that Graves hasn’t identified as abusive to this day, because, well, these family interactions that were always spoken of positively. Why should reality be any different? These are all just loving family play? Right? 

The dig of nails into his side to jumpscare him around the kitchen counter, (only to be laughed out when he yelped). The trick that got him to picking up something hot when he should’ve ‘known better.’ The throw his favorite canned cranberry sauce into his shoulder hard, as a ‘gift’ 

Graves got mad at that one at first, telling his mother to not throw hard cans at him, as duh, it hurt?? She chewed him out for 15 minutes about how she’d done something nice and gotten him something he liked and his ungrateful ass was so selfish that he couldn’t even say thank you“Th-”“Do not interrupt me!”

She ‘didn’t hurt him’ and ‘he was being dramatic,’ ‘a real man could handle a light hit to the shoulder!’ 

Graves tried to show her the already forming bruise. She offered to give him a real one. 

That was her joking with him… right?

These are the interactions that Phil would never see as trauma inducing. These are positive memories starring playful family rough housing. 

He doesn’t give a second thought to why he remembers each one vividly. 

-

Okay, almost done!! Adult years! 

Once he was 18, Phil left to join the army and Serve His Country as the Good American he was, but even out from under her rein Mrs. Graves’ influence can be felt. 

Mrs. Graves always demanded respect, and like a good southern boy, Phil has always given it to her. Even now as an adult Phil loves his mother and tells everyone he couldn’t ask for a better mom. (He really could…) He has disregarded his own emotional well being in a desperate attempt to be a good son, and can’t even see it.

I mean, of course he did. Taking care of his mental well-being was frowned upon. If he wasn’t pushing himself to perform for his mother he wasn’t being a good son. But now the last time Graves cried was at 15 years old, and he’ll need to do a lot of healing before he’s able to again.

When he visits his mother she without fail tells him he doesn’t come home enough. All mothers think their kids should come home more, but Mrs. Graves makes it sound like a personal affront. When he’s home the light bullying hasn’t stopped. He can’t do much without being chastised. Even when he does something she can’t criticize like taking care of himself she can often find a way to make a remark. (like putting on sunscreen? ‘Scared of a little son, don’t want a thick skin?’)

[cryptidsnackpack]

okay this discussion is going to be SO LATE but i’m playing dream daddy (again) and i have ~thoughts~ about our friendly neighborhood youth pastor and his family.

so i’m going on dates with all the dad’s i haven’t in previous playthroughs. (i saw mat and damien and was like good day i do not need to peruse ANY other fathers today).

i’d never done joseph’s route before, bc he’s married duh and i have religious trauma. and he looks like every white man that is a problem. but this time around i wanted to watch the world burn and break that man. ANYWAY. he is- actually… delightful? and i love his dates?? i though that with (potential spoilers ahead i guess but this game is old af) his affair with Robert he would immediately start laying it on thick. but he just invites you to very fucking domestic events, and gets frazzled with basic intimacy.

so i GET that joseph cheated. i understand that a large part of mary’s drinking may be due to that. and i know the “good” ending is not really good at all, and pulls a weird moral gotcha on you. i am all for making players face the consequences of their actions in games but this one falls flat for a few reasons.

1. Joseph objectively isn’t a bad person. Yes he’s had an affair, yes he’s a youth pastor (okay only a little joking). BUT Joseph has his shit together for his 4 kids and i admire the FUCK out of him for it. As someone who was raised by alcoholic parents, seeing Mary’s attitude at her kids’ well being REALLY struck a chord with me. the game wants me to believe Joseph is the bad guy, but i’m watching his wife chug five bottles of wine while her toddler is missing AND SUPPOSED TO BE IN HER CARE. and then i see this dad who is trying, who is involved in community outreach, and keeps a stable home. also i see a lot of “well Joseph puts on an act to make Mary look bad in front of the neighbors”. I’m sorry??? he does not have to make Mary look bad, she does bad all on her own. the “wine mom” and “type a dad” schtick is so fucking heteronormative and played out, even for 2017 when the game was released. and hey maybe that was the point! but if it was, it wasn’t done well.

2. The worst parts of Mary’s character get glossed over in lieu of her being a “wine mom” stereotype. Maybe it’s because i’m an ex alcoholic myself, but i don’t have a lot of patience for the character and i know that. objectively i like Mary, i think she’s funny and tough. but she is a deadbeat fucking mom, and the game WHICH IS CENTERED LARGELY AROUND BEING A GOOD PARENT puts Mary on a pedestal that she doesn’t deserve to be on. would i get dinner with mary? hang out? go shopping?? fuck yeah. would i think, “this person who goes out every single night and flirts outrageously with everyone, ignoring their children and household responsibility for their husband” is a “good” person?? fucking hell no. i would not let that woman look after a hamster. let alone four children.

3. DIVORCE IS A VALID AND HEALTHY OPTION THAT SHOULD BE SHOWN MORE IN MEDIA. i cannot tell you how many nights i lay awake listening to my parents drunk and fighting and prayed (when i believed in prayer) that they would divorce. i WANTED my parents to divorce, because i, at the ripe age of 12 could see what apparently the adults could not. that these two people did not, and should not, be together. now that’s not saying that your “good” ending in joseph’s route should end in a typical romance. i don’t. what i mean is that two people should have come to the conclusion that they are doing irreparable damage to their family by staying together. and your character could have helped and supported in that decision. it is obvious that Mary is living a life she doesn’t want, and i do feel for her. BUT GET A DIVORCE THEN. I know the characters are married and staying together largely in part because of religion… but…. Joseph’s not “that” kind of christian? because i grew up in the church, i know the type. this guy ain’t it. So the “well divorce is a sin” for the character doesn’t work for me.

i love the game grumps and i LOVE this game, but this was an area where i feel like the characterization and “message” was a like clunky and more than hard to follow. i really felt like they missed the mark with this one, i mean hell just make the non-canon ending canon at this point. at least that would make more sense.

also this is not me saying that Mary should be responsible for all household duty bc she’s a woman or blah blah blah. but whether you wanted those kids or not, whether you want to be in that marriage or not, YOU made decisions. your kids didn’t choose to be born YOU did, so you need to step up and idk?? maybe not spend every night out at a bar with the local loner who boned your husband? also maybe your husband sought comfort in the arms of a relative stranger… for… a reason? not a morally sound or correct reason but we can maybe follow the dots.

[handeaux]

Our Grandparents Espoused Some Curious Requirements For Their Ideal Mates

At the height of the Victorian Era, when our rose-colored memories beguile us with the belief that everyone glided through life with absolute propriety, Cincinnatians were a decidedly randy bunch. Tales of moral misdeeds bleed from the city’s newspapers. And yet, the papers are full of instruction on how to itemize the virtues of the perfect spouse. Here is a selection, extracted from Cincinnati newspapers published between 1890 and 1920.

The Ideal Husband

“Every married man knows that an ideal husband has to be nine-tenths mollycoddle.” [1912]

“He is temperate, moral, intellectual, truthful, forgiving, Christian; loves home, makes an honest, comfortable living, gives his wife a personal allowance, and never asks her how she spends it; never scolds nor contradicts nor laughs at her; remembers she has nerves, that she loves pretty things, and thinks that she is the dearest, loveliest little woman on earth – such is the ideal husband, whose advent we may expect with the millennium.” [1894]

“The ideal husband is the one who devotes his life to his wife, who makes her the first consideration in all his thoughts and acts, who understands that she is the aim of everything which he undertakes, and that he should use all the resources that Nature has placed in his mind and Fortune has put in his hands in order that she may be happy and remain long beautiful.” [1903]

“He must be generous, broad-minded, sympathetic, the gallant, fascinating lover of courting days. He does not try to be a master; he makes home happy by cheerful good humor; he realizes that perfect love cannot exist where either wishes to rule. As I was saying, this is the ideal, and ideals are better as such than in the flesh.” [1912]

“He is neat, plainly dressed and rather common looking. He has sober habits with honesty and good will shining out of a clear, frank face. His business occupies half his time; the rest he spends with his wife and children. He is fond of his home and is curious how it is run.” [1907]

“The ideal husband is the one who lets his wife alone, who does not interfere with her household duties or any of her little womanly fads, who is not always paying her compliments or besieging her with advice, and who is not always by her side or behind her back, who seldom addresses her reproaches, and never reminds her of what he has done to deserve her gratitude, who is not fussy, fidgety or a bore of a model of propriety and virtue.” [1903]

“The ideal husband is the man who pleases his own wife. The ideal husband may not be ideal in all things, but if he pleases his wife he’s an ideal husband – his wife’s ideal. The ideal husband is always a sweetheart to his wife. The ideal husband is a good fellow. He doesn’t forget his bachelor friends and occasionally spends an evening with them – with his wife’s approval. The ideal husband is not an angel. He knows the whir of wings makes his wife nervous. If a man’s an ideal husband, give credit for his perfection to his wife.” [1914]

“A husband should not be handsome. First of all he is never very beautiful, since he is a man. But he might be worse; he might think he is beautiful, and then heaven help his wife.” [1903]

“A model husband should give his wife as much money for her own use as he spends himself for tobacco and drinks.” [1908]

The Ideal Wife

“My ideal wife is a true woman, with a loving disposition, one who can cook you a good dinner, mend and make, and nurse her husband and children when ill. One who doesn’t worry over trifles, or meet troubles half way. One who will not be wanting money for a new bonnet every time the fashion changes, and yet will keep herself neat and nice after she is married, just as she did before. One who will live within her husband’s income, and save for a rainy day. One who will meet you with a smile and a kiss when you return tired from work. Such a wife I shall call a treasure if I am lucky enough to get her.” [1895]

“Her household balance sheet is an inextricable tangle which would defy the most experienced auditor. Her collection of hats is fearful and wonderful. Her wardrobe is overflowing with unnecessaries and she is always ready for anything in the nature of outdoor sports. The orderly, careful management of the household is quite beyond her, and she does not know what it is to look upon the serious side of things. We are asked to believe that she makes up for all these shortcomings by an all-pervading scent of violets and a sunny nature that will not be depressed.” [1914]

“Without being beautiful, she is really nice, pleasant and happy. My equal in vigor, health and mind. Not a ‘new woman,’ but a thorough domestic helpmate. Her voice is melodious; her affection and faith unbounded. She can discuss the news of the day equally well with the last new bonnet.” [1895]

“A Cincinnati court discovered the ideal wife in a woman who washed, ironed, cooked, mended, and made clothing for her husband and seven children. As proof of what appreciation and ideal wife receives, this one is now suing for alimony. Moral: Don’t be an ideal wife.” [1916]

“An ideal wife is one who will believe all the darn lies her husband tells her.” [1918]

“A glorified housekeeper with the capabilities of a head nurse. She is not to experience any of the beautiful qualities associated with wifehood beyond what is of a strictly utilitarian nature. Hygiene and food are her two great desiderata. The wit, beauty, seductiveness, the alluring elusiveness, the uncertainties of temper, and the irritating and fascinating surprises arising therefrom are denied her. She is supposed to be a combination of the doctor and a keeper of the household stores.” [1914]

“Pleasingly plump, with light brown hair, blue eyes and good teeth. She must have a sense of humor and be willing to laugh at all my jokes, no matter how punk they are.” [1920]

“No woman, unless she be a good cook, can qualify as an ideal wife. She must be self-reliant; she must not ‘nag’ and find fault; she must be content, but not without ambition; she must be womanly; she must continue to be a sweetheart and she must keep the house as tidy for the reception of her husband as she did for her lover.” [1914]

“I hate these baby-doll vamps. She must have a knowledge of psychology and a will of her own but not too strong, to talk sense when necessary. And she must know how to wear tailored suits.” [1920]

[xf4iryx]

═.✵. soft—launch — blurb 02

— summary (in which a relationship is revealed and some fans take it lighter than others)

— warning (hate comments, possible mentions of ed)

— aab is owned by @mercunty

danicetcovic ☑️

📍 Sorrento, Italy

liked by gigihadid, iz_maribora_band, sunshinerogelij and 237 more

danicetcovic ☑️ holidays, dress designs, my love. 🤍

view all 627 comments

gigihadid ☑️ miss you, gorgeous! also, this dress design will be so fire, cannot wait to wear your design. 🤍

danicetcovic ☑️ miss you too! i cannot waot to show you the finished product next week!

gigihadid ☑️ have fun in Sorrento!

ales_rogelj ☑️ my gorgeous wife ❤️

danicetcovic ☑️ Volim te beskrajno.

vane_roser most prettiest couple and your designs are pretty, Danica. ❤️ Do not listen to the haters, please.

liked by danicetcovic

aleslovesyn just leave already, he doesn't want your ugly self.

vanefan1 girl, I swear stop it.

izmariborabandupdates

izmariborabandupdates okay, so I found out some stuff. First of all, Danica Cetcovic-Rogeli is a Serbian fashion designer, who holds a BA and MA in fashion design and business and in Public Relations from King's College London. She got a full-time scholarship during that time and met Aleš seven years ago when Maribora started really small and worked for them since then while doing designs part-time for Christian Dior or Karl Lagerfeld. Aleš and her got together five years ago after her brother, Wimbledon winner Vladimir Cetcovic, and Vane played match-maker. They got married after three years together and are now married for two years, so total of five years together plus one and half year of pining after each other.

Second of all, stop hating on this pure soul simply because she is married to your favourite singer. You all are delusional and sending her hate is no solution. Stop this, you're so wrong and fucked up for this!

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izmariborabandupdates

liked by aleslovesyn, vanefan1 and 627 272 more

izmariborabandupdates fans voiced their concern over recent appearance of Danica Cetcovic in which the pr manager and designer has drastically lost weight. Furthermore, her entire appearances have lessened despite her being apart of Christian Cowan's design team for this year's fashion show.

view all 23 567 comments

vanefan1 nooo, dani, please don't take the hate to your heart.

aleslovesyn good, i hope she fully leaves

alesdani girl, shut up! how delusional are you?!

vanefan1 girl, stop please.

wagupdates man, I hope her husband speaks up soon too !

f1fan remember when people found out that the Mercedes team principal's daughter dates Gabriel and how fast her parents, brother and Gabriel shut them up? I hope Danica's does too!

gigihadid ☑️

liked by danicetcovic, celebupdates, doutzenvgraafrb and 3 267 282 more

gigihadid ☑️ stop sending hateful messages to my friend. She does not deserve any of the hateful words some of you speak just because she dates one of your celebrity crushes. Please remember that they are human too and do not take your frustration out on her.

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danicetcovic ☑️

liked by vanefan1, sunshinerogelij and 216 more

danicetcovic ☑️ I apologize if I have upset any fans by speaking English with a heavy accent or am not what you would imagine as the wife of a world star. I will try to be better.

this post has been deleted.

tags: @mercunty, @moremysteriesthantragedies (ask to be added or removed)

[dt365-2024]

8/7/24

My heart feels like it’s in my stomach.

I feel like throwing up.

I should have known better.

I should not have fallen as deep as I need.

I’m a lover girl, so what else can I girl do?

Except love someone so deeply and admire all of his qualities.

But holy shit, this feels worse when he admitted it months ago.

He told me not to get my hopes up.

But a lover girl like me, will hope. Even just a little. In moments where we connect, maybe even hope for a lot.

I don’t know what to do.

He wants to pursue something with his wife. But since she has no desire to, he’s with me.

I’m a second choice. Second option.

And it does not feel good. She has all the power. If she were to want to work things out, he would leave me.

I don’t want to be a second choice. I want to be someone’s first choice, as he is mine.

I suppose part of me wants to stay because I feel like I do not deserve any better than what he gives me.

If there is someone out there who loves me just as I love them, if there is someone out there who is loyal as I am to them, then later down the road when they abandon me or cheat on me, I will enter into the same rut I was in when I learned about Eric’s infidelity. To be blindsided like that… there’s no going back to the pain I experienced when learning that someone who you trusted and counted on would and could do something as heartless as that. I learn that your judgment was wrong. I don’t ever want to put myself at that risk.

I do not know what to say to Christian. I’m hurting. Like a lot. To know that I cannot offer him what he wants. I am not his wife. I am not his family. I am not her.

I am a second choice. Will always BE a second choice.

It feels like someone stabbed me in the gut and twisted it multiple times. Because damn, I was falling really deep in love with this guy.

Everything, literally everything is amazing. His intellect, values, views, passion. Our sexual chemistry. All of it. His patience, understanding. He makes me feel heard. But I realize now that I am not enough. I will never BE enough for him.

And that hurts. To not be good enough for someone to be a first choice.

[inkedmyths]

S1: E12 "Faith"

Brought to you by Crepe bribing me with Flight Rising money

[ Kayla asks if it was worth it to sell your soul to capitalism. Crepe said yes. I agree. I may have to endure on but now I have more money for my dragons. This will, unfortunately, always work on me. ]

Cuz you gotta have faith-uh faith-uh faith-uh

Oh we're starting out with the Winchesters? No mysterious deatb if some random person?

[ Kayla interjects with Carry On My Wayward Son. I get flashbacks to playing it on repeat when I initially began this journey. ]

Oooough closeeeet Dean I'm sure you're scared of that

[ Kayla asks Crepe if Dean does any homoeroticism in S1 aside from being too happy about getting pinned to a car. Crepe says no. This does not matter to me, I will make the joke anyways. ]

There are children! Hello children!

Ew what is that

UH Dean buddy that canNOT be healthy

HOSPITAL

HEART ATTACK???

Hi Dean! You look like shit!

:(

Dean you are too chill with your mortality but also Sam is WAY too not chill about it

JOHN WINCHESTER PICK UP YOUR FUCKING PHONE. BITCH

Sam. Sam no

I mean I know Dean is still sround for however many fucking seasons but

DEAN DID YOU BREAK OUT OF THE HOSPITAL. MORON

Why are you both stupid

[ Kayla says this is the parentified child vs child he parentified effect. Which. Yeah fair. ]

Dean: Sam what kinda crazy religion place are you bringing me to

DEAN STOP FLIRTING WITH EVERY LADY YOU MEET. DUMBASS BITCH

[ Kayla says that he's a whore and to leave him alone. That the sluttiest thing a man can do is be an older brother. Kayla is this some kind of kink for you. ]

GOD NO I DIDN'T EVEN GO TO ONE OF THESE KINDS OF CHURCHES BUT. HRGH. HORRIBLE. I want to leave

LMAO CALLED OUT DEAN

LAUGHING im sorry watching Dean get throwm on the spot. Poor dumbass

Go up Dean this is your personal hell now

[ Crepe says no, wrong season. Lovely. ]

Dean having that face that I feel so deeply in my soul whenever someone tries to preacg Christianity to me

FUCKING. HAND AGAINST HIS HEAD poor Dean's face shshshs

UHHH WHAT WAS THAT. WHAT WAS THAT FIGURE

Oh. Oh my god it traded his life for his

O h n o

This is interesting and good but its also so fucking spooky the vibes

Ohhhh something. Something wanted Dean to live.

[ Kayla and Crepe go back and forth about how Supernatural is technically a horror show, though this is dropped somewhat in later seasons. What the fuck did I get myself into. ]

What the fuck is up w/Layla (Leilah?)

Oh :( poor girl

And Dean was the one who got healed so he's :((

"Why do you deserve to live more than my daughter?" man

Dean's like 😟

Chick in the woods? Girl whats up?

Girl is abt to die for this old guy

A REAPER?

The music shdhdhdhsh

Thats pretty banger ngl. Whats this song anywas.... Death In The Valley?

NOT ME LOOKING IT UP ON SPOTIFY AND GETTING A PLAYLIST FOR SPN SOUNDTRACK?

DOG LEASH ON A GREAT WHITE

SCREAMS the guy handing out pamphlets "Roy is a fraud"

Dean: Amen brother

Sam: You keep up the good work!

Man: Thank you

God its so interesting storywise but also the vibes are Upsetting

Sam committing breaking and entering all by himself good for him

IS THE CHURCH GUY MURDERING PEOPLE HE DOESN'T LIKE BY SAVING OTHERS

HE IS. HOMOPHOBIC! LITERALLY

GOOOOOD SHIT FUCK nooo i dont wanna watch anymore I don't like confrontation and oough BAD VIBES

Im turning on captions hold on

LAYLA I KNEW IT

Noooooooooooo besties I Cannot

Guys this is UPSETTING

I keep pausing 😭

I'm like stop starting bc I would rather read than hear WHASGSFAFAF

[ Crepe is grinding in Coliseum on Flight Rising to pay me more so I watch more. I can't tell if I'm genius for this or not. ]

Oh the poor guy screaming and Sam being like WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT

Oh I stopped started so much Netflix crashed LMAO

Hrrrgh yeah yeah ok compelling but I want to crawl up a tree

Oh shes still praying

AH YES DEAN GETS TAKEN AWAY. ARRESTED. AGAIN

Ohhh its his wife.... his wife couldn't stand to lose him.... oh.......

"God save us from half the people who think they're doing God's work." hey who gave this show the right

[ Kayla says "Remember when I told you this show was sometimes really good?" I tell her to fuck off. She says I'm only proving her point. I call her a bitch. This has no effect. ]

SAM BESTIE U DID IT TO SAVE DEAN CAN U NOT UNDERSTAND THE CONFLICT HERE

LMAO DEAN JUST YELLS AT THE COPS AND THEY CHASE HIM THATS SO FUNNY

A+ plan buddy

Godddd the vibes are so ick and tragic but man

MAN I LOVE WHEN THINGS TAKE CHRISTIANS AND MAKE THEM FUCKED UP

Dean buddy get ready to run again

"The Lord chose me" NO IT FUCKIN DIDN'T

Sams gonna like smack her huh

Oh that Reaper did NOT like being bound

Something something metaphor for controlling death

Winchester Patented Guilt Complex

Oh she still has faith even when she's got a bad diagnosis :(

GODDAMMIT NO DONT

; - ;

So like Dean Winchester Aetheist Extraordinaire saying "I'm not much of a praying type... but I'll pray for you" is something that can be so personal actually

Don't. Don't touch me go away

Fuck you guys for making me watch this show I'm tearing up I hate you all

-

In conclusion: OKAY DEAN WINCHESTER LIKERS MAYBE I GET IT. But also fuck off fuck all of you I hate it here goddamn you AUGH I WASNT EXPECTING TO TEAR UP OVER THIS FUCK YOOOOOOOU

[fischerfrey]

► basics;

Full Name: Quentin Christian Alexander (of) Alderly

Nickname: Quincey, Quince, Q

╰┈➤ Dawn’s special nicknames: The Duke of Hufflepuff, Prince Liquor, Your Highness, Princess, Prince Pisses-Me-Off

Birthday: January 29th, 1997 (Aquarius)

Pronouns: he/him

Sexual Orientation: gay

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff

Blood Status: Muggleborn

Nationality: English, Greek

► magical info;

Wand: English oak, 12 inches, phoenix feather core, inflexible

A wand for good times and bad, this is a friend as loyal as the wizard who deserves it. Wands of English oak demand partners of strength, courage and fidelity. Less well-known is the propensity for owners of English oak wands to have powerful intuition, and, often, an affinity with the magic of the natural world, with the creatures and plants that are necessary to wizardkind for both magic and pleasure. The oak tree is called King of the Forest from the winter solstice up until the summer solstice, and its wood should only be collected during that time (holly becomes King as the days begin to shorten again, and so holly should only be gathered as the year wanes..It is said that Merlin’s wand was of English oak (though his grave has never been found, so this cannot be proven).

Patronus: tba

Patronus Memory: tba

Boggart: Becoming like his parents

Specialized/Favourite Spells: Elemental spells (water, fire, etc.)

Class Proficiencies:

Astronomy: A

Charms: E

DADA: E

Herbology: A

History of Magic: O

Potions: E

Transfiguration: O

Electives:

Care of Magical Creatures: E

Muggle Studies: O

► background;

Place of Birth: St. James’s Hospital, Alderly, England

Home: Alderly Hall, Alderly, England

Pre-Hogwarts:

Quincey was born in January of 1997, when his grandfather George was still the Duke of Alderly. His parents inherited the duchy upon George’s death and led very public lives in high society. Quincey had a luxurious childhood, lacking nothing and most getting anything and everything he wanted. He was a shy child, with no love for public speaking or big crowds. He was forced to learn out of it, though never learned to actually like it. Upon receiving his Hogwarts letter, his life changed drastically. It was difficult to hide his magic with a life so closely followed by the press and social media. The muggle world believes he attends a very secretive boarding school in Switzerland and Hogwarts staff helps them keep up the lie with magic.

Hogwarts years:

tba

Post-Hogwarts

tba

► physical;

Faceclaim: Nicholas Galitzine

Eye Color: hazel

Hair Color: brown or blond

Height: 6″ (180cm)

► relatives;

Father: Prince Stefanos “Stefan” of Greece and Denmark

Part of the deposed Greek royal family, Stefanos married Isabella when he was 20 and she 19. Stefan is a muggle and a brilliant horseman. He’s an Olympic gold medalist and spends most of his time riding or talking about horses. He’s closer with his children than his wife, having taken an interest in their hobbies when they were small (although only because they were both horse-related hobbies; polo for Quincey and dressage for Olympia). When Quincey gets older, he doesn’t spend a lot of time with his father.

FC: Dominic West

Mother: Lady Isabella of Alderly

Isabella, ever the traditionalist, dislikes magic. She heard stories of it as a child, how there had once been magic in her family, but she didn’t really believe it before her son received her Hogwarts acceptance letter. She also doesn’t want Quincey to come out publically, as he is the heir to Alderly. Whilst she does love her family, she’s obsessed with keeping up appearances of a perfect family, out of touch and elitist, wanting to uphold the values of the “old world” as opposed to modernizing the duchy.

FC: Elizabeth Mitchell

Sister: Olympia-Eugénie (of) Alderly

Olympia is only a year younger than her brother, so the two have always been close. When Olympia chose to attend Beauxbatons in France instead of Hogwarts, Quincey cried. They write to each other often.When out of school, they spend a lot of time together, confiding in each other and complaining about their parents.

FC: Hannah van der Westhuysen

► relationships;

Allegiances: Hufflepuff house, The Alderly Family (formerly)

Best friend: Lainey Bell by @gcldensnitch​​

lore tba

FC: Grace Van Dien

MC Friends: (OPEN!)

Lyra Martin and Panit Saetang by @camillejeaneshphm​

Nate Mackade by @unfortunate-arrow​

Pandora Lovelace by @gcldensnitch​

Diana Somerset by @endlessly-cursed​

Dorm mates (1/5):

Nate Mackade by @unfortunate-arrow​

Love Interest:

Dawn Harvelle by @potionboy3​​

Dawn is a Gryffindor on the same year as Quincey. They’re both seekers for their respective Quidditch teams and thus have been rivals ever since they joined the teams. Quincey has had a crush on Dawn for a while, though he’s not exactly thrilled about it. because Dawn is rude, mean, and annoying (not to mention badmouthing his family all the time.) When circumstances force the two to get to know each other during their sixth year at Hogwarts, they find out that maybe they were both wrong.

FC: Nathan Bouts

Pets: An orange cat called Ser Pounce-A-Lot, Pounce for short

Rivals: Dawn Harvelle by @potionboy3​

Enemies: tba

► personality;

Quincey is known as something of a party-boy, but in truth, it’s a carefully curated persona. He is introspective and dislikes being the center of attention, which makes his role difficult for him. His parents have been in the public eye all his life, so he was already famous before he learned how to speak. Quincey is nevertheless kind, thoughtful, and uncompromising when it comes to his loyalties and values. He doesn’t like being a part of the aristocracy and wants to enact real change. He doesn’t get along with his classist parents and as an adult only sees them at family weddings and funerals.

► misc;

Hobbies: polo, violin, video games, being a cat parent

Extracurriculars: n/a

Quidditch: Seeker

Favourite subject: Transfiguration, Muggle studies

Favourite professor: tba

Least favourite professor: tba

Professions: activist, author

template (x)

[doctorofmagic]

Death of Doctor Strange #2 Review

In which Jed left me wanting.

I’ll start with the warlords.

Aggamon and Dagoth come from, Strange Tales v1 #119 and Marvel Premiere #7, respectivelly.

Tiboro was conceived in Strange Tales #129, while mommy, I mean, Umar is well-known among fans.

Except for mommy, I mean, Umar, they’re all b-villains that don’t really matter, but my bingo was right. That was a good Strange Tales reference and it shows Jed did his lesson. One may arguee - and there’s a little bit of drama happening right now because of that - that the continuity is not right. In this case, because 60′s!Stephen was not supposed to know either Dagoth or Tiboro for he already had the Cloak of Levitation at that time. But what if the narrator is regular!Stephen? Then all is fine.

Next, Stephen is a bastard as usual, and we love to see it. He doesn’t remember the banishment because he sent Kaecilius, Adria and Demonicus to the Purple Dimension back in Doctor Strange v2 - Master of the Mystic Arts #56, many many years later.

Stephen then explains that he has only seven days to solve his murder, for he sacrificed one week of his life span to be summoned in case he was murdered. It’s all about the story seen on the previous issue.

Next, Cap is calling Stephen via his Avengers card (which is not surprising but thankfully he’s considered a consultant Avenger now. He deserves better, me thinks). I wanted to zoom in the card to see the signatures but I can’t read them at all lmao. I suppose the President is Coulson, judging from what happened in Heroes Reborn? I’m not sure, I dropped Aaron’s Avengers ngl.

I HATE CAP’S REACTION HERE THO.

60′s Stephen: “The Stephen Strange you knew died. I’m from the past to investigate his murder.”

Cap: “Of course... Anyways, we need someone to stop the invasions and--”

BRO, WASN’T HE YOUR FRIEND??? The hell???? This is why I don’t trust the Avengers, you seeing this sh*t, Spider-man?

In any case, the warlords are not actually invading. We’ll learn soon with my favorite part of this issue. SHE’S COMING!!

I love my wife so much. I love how she says “I need you”. I’m glad to see that Clea doesn’t hate Stephen for what happened after v5. I love how she seeks him when she’s in trouble, which means she still trusts him.

And here’s the drama: how does Clea remember Stephen? It all lies on my theory that Stephen hid his soul on the ring which binds their souls. When regular!Stephen died, most of spells were undone, including the memory spell he cast on Clea. I’m 100% confident the ring is the key. And guys, can we please wait for the next issues? This smells flashback all the way up. We still need to learn how Clea became Sorceress Supreme of the Dark Dimension, thank you. Also, I still think the killer is the demon from v5, so continuity is still working for now.

Okay, so she says that the warlords are actually fleeing, and then the Mothers make their first appearance.

Something I need to address here:

Anon left an ask that will take me weeks to reply but since I’m breaking the issue, I guess this a good opportunity, let’s go.

Here’s a curiosity:

The reason is not official but I suppose Bl*ck Arts is a pejorative term. I can’t tell for sure if this was addressed in the 60′s or not, but there’s also the possibility that people were biased towards the term because of their beliefs (summing up, the Christian Karens). This is just purely speculation, of course. I cannot offer a proper answer.

Back to the chapter, the Avengers show up and have their asses kicked. I guess this is why the chapter left me wanting. The fight took many pages and nothing happened. The Mothers left and the mystics didn’t even fight properly. A shame, really. We learn that the Mothers are after magic to feed their son, and each one has a different style. The Crawling will have an effect on Iron Man, especifically, as seen in the DODS: Avengers #1 preview (I’ll post it asap).

And this is it.

Some people also noticed that Zelma has a continuity error in Strange Academy, in which Jericho tells the students that Stephen died and she reacts as if she wasn’t there in the main event. True, it’s an editorial mistake. But there’s no need to take that so seriously. Coming from someone who read all Secret Wars tie-ins, it’s not that important. Tie-ins don’t change a thing in the main event. It may explain a thing or two but it’s not required. It’s not like mega events that demand reading actual titles (like Infinity within Avengers and New Avengers). I promise you, all is fine. As for Clea... let’s wait and see, as I always say.

I don’t have anything left to add, honestly. I was expecting more Cleaphen and this is why I kinda needy right now. But it’s just the second chapter so...

[pomegranates-and-blood]

Love, fear, peace.

My Masterlist  

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Summary: “I wanted to request an imagine where the reader and Ivar have a 4-5 year old daughter. And while Ivar is usually very cruel, he'll do anything for his little princess. And she asks to paint his nails and have him join her for a tea party, so he does, as long as it's a secret between them but the reader ends up seeing them and her thoughts on it? I'm in a big mood to read Ivar fluff”

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: A lil bit of angst, my best attempt at fluff, just soft stuff all around, probably ooc

A/N: My friends, may I interest you in an AU where all five sons of Ragnar are alive and happy? We call it ‘denial’ where I’m from, but yeah, in this universe they’re all alive, Sigurd married off to some Saxon Princess, Ubbe in Dublin, Ivar King of Kattegat and Hvitserk with him with a family of his own goddamit, Björn fuck-knows-where avoiding commitment like he was born to do, and that’s it. Ta-da.

Ástríðr is a name derived from the Old Norse elements áss "god" and fríðr "beautiful, beloved"

Taglist: (If you wanna be added or removed lemme know!) @youbloodymadgenius​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @1950schick​ @ietss​   @peachyboneless​ @encounterthepast​ @maggiescarborough​   @chibisgotovalhalla​ @receptionistfromhell​​ 

Hvitserk greets you with a kiss on your cheek, and you thank the gesture with a smile, though your eyes are scanning the main hall.

“Where’s Ivar?” You ask as he walks at your side, greeting a few people with false smiles and courteous nods.

Hvitserk only shrugs, “I thought he was with you.”

“No, we were supposed to talk with one of the earls about the effect of a high tide, but he wasn’t there.”

“And how was it?”

“Dull,” You reply sincerely, “But I have an idea of where my husband is.”

The other man betrays a smile, “Can you blame him? It is hard to say no to her.”

Oh, you know that. She has him -and you- powerless to deny her anything since she first came to this world.

Try as he might to deny it, to keep the idea of the ruthless king that loves nothing alive, to mantain the façade of how nothing makes Ivar the Boneless falter; your daughter is an adorable force to be reckoned with, capable of making even the King of Kattegat surrender.

It is no secret, for you or any soul that encounters your husband, that Ivar loves his family, his wife and daughter, like nothing else.

The world will never forget the battles he’s won and lost, the wars he started, the kingdoms he reduced to ash, the lands he conquered. The world will never forget of all he did in the name of his ambition, in the name of his fame.

But the world will never forget what he did in the name of love either. Countless deals made, countless fights, countless plans devised and even more sacrifices made so that he could grant his daughter the safeties she deserved; so that he can give her the world and, when time comes, have her step sure, knowing the very earth and the very skies are hers.

You don’t know how much time has passed when you blink past the sleep that weighs on your lids. You find yourself as you were, resting comfortably on a seat that has progressively become just a pile of pillows and furs since the start of winter.

You still feel the comfortable weight of Ivar’s head on your lap, and you can make out his voice speaking quietly. Looking down you find him talking to the small bump on your stomach, the evidence of your child growing inside of you.

At the feeling of your fingers running through his hair, Ivar looks up and offers you a smile, before scooting even closer to your stomach.

“Tell your mother to go back to sleep. You and I aren’t done talking, Princess.”

A part of you is tempted to taunt him about how the might Ivar the Boneless is so smitten by a child not even born yet, but you choose instead to bask in the softness in his expression, in the happiness that curves his mouth.

Still, after a few moments, you offer, “They could be a Prince. Ivarsson.”

Your husband hums, presses a kiss against your stomach and settles again on his back with his head on your lap.

“We will have sons, I know,” He tells you, smile faint as he closes his eyes, “But first, we will have a daughter.

He speaks with such certainty that you cannot help but huff a laugh. Still, it is a nice thought, to have a Princess to call your own, a little girl, blessed by the Gods.

“She will be just like her mother, and she will be ours to spoil and take care of.”

“You speak as if you wouldn’t spoil our sons, Ivar. Someone else might believe that lie, but not me.” You tease, eyebrows lifted.

“Mhm, but a father grows jealous of his sons, and their fame, their triumphs.”

“No daughter of mine, or of yours, will be content without her own triumphs and conquests.”

“I know,” He replies without hesitation, proud smile widening and eyes opening to gaze up at you, “Like I said, she’ll be just like her mother.”

It was never a secret, a surprise, for you to witness Ivar love your child before she was even born; to feel his joy and his anticipation and his love in the way he spoke of that daughter you’d have, and all the sons and daughters that would come after.

You learned to love him years ago, and found beneath the cruelty and venom and bloodthirst a man that loves intensely, that willingly gave his heart to you to keep safe the day he made you his wife. So his love doesn’t surprise you, his devotion to his family doesn’t make you falter.

There were still many things that made you falter, that made you see everything with new eyes, during those months while you carried Ástríðr and in the years you’ve been fortunate enough to have her.

One of them was how the sons of Aslaug, much to your surprise and despite all their other failings, had been raised to be utterly devoted to their families. Hvitserk was almost giddy at the possibility of a niece or nephew that he could keep close to him, unlike Ubbe’s children all the way in Dublin. Ubbe, always the father figure, visited more than once and kept watchful eyes not only on you and his brother, but on everything, as if from Dublin he could look over all of you like he did while growing up. To your surprise, even Sigurd, past the animosity between him and Ivar -and all the disagreements he has had with you over the years, of course- sent word from Northumbria wishing you three the protection of the Gods.

Another of those discoveries, sadly not as heartwarming, was to witness the burden your husband carried and not being able to do anything about it. The more easily-soothed fears, like what your daughter would think of him, or whether she would be born healthy, were quietened by your voice promising him over and over that any child of yours would love him like no other, or by the soft kicks of your daughter against where his palm rested on your stomach, making tears shine in Ivar’s eyes every time.

There were deeper fears, and fears that plagued you too, that you couldn’t so easily soothe. The whisper in the back of his mind that happiness is nothing, that everything you love eventually you lose, that all his cruel ways and his mistakes would one day cost him what he holds dear. The blue eyes of the man you love, so used to seeing what others cannot, so used to planning ahead and seeing the world like his enemy does, seeing a world where at any time his fame and his conquests could cost him your life or your daughter’s.

For a man as cruel and vicious as Ivar, it is easy to forget he is not something otherworldly, some demon like the Christians say, some beast like your own countrymen claim. Sometimes, in all his rage and all his chaos, it is easy to forget he is a husband, a father, a man.

And like any man with a beating heart, especially a heart so wholly owned by his wife and daughter; Ivar fears.

Ástríðr blinks big and strikingly blue eyes, and you smile widely, unable to keep yourself from bringing your daughter closer and pressing a kiss on her head, delighting yourself in the familiar and comforting smell of your baby.

“Good morning, little one.” You whisper, and she coos in response, as if she understands.

“Is she…is she alright?” Ivar asks, moving closer to you and looking at her over your shoulder.

“Of course she is,” You smile down at your daughter, your finger tapping the tip of her tiny nose. “Our beautiful girl, she’s more than alright. She’s perfect.”

“She was…coughing.”

“That’s something babies do, Ivar, she’s fine.” You reassure him, only slightly bothered by the fact that he woke you up because your daughter coughed. You adjust your grip on Ástríðr, let her nuzzle against the column of your throat and find her sleep again.

Ivar drops his head to your shoulder, sighing against your skin and laying quite a bit of his weight on you. You sit there, your daughter against you and your husband letting you hold him up as he releases a tension you didn’t realize was there, and feel a pang of something in your heart.

After a few moments, you hold back a sigh, you try biting back your worry, and whisper, “You should sleep, love.”

“Mhm,” Ivar mumbles, but it is an argument, even if he doesn’t find the words to voice it yet. “Later.”

He has taken the awful habit of not sleeping at night. Each night when you settle in bed with Ástríðr nestled close to you, and Ivar holds you both close in his embrace; he remains awake, vigilant and expectant, watching the shadows for ghosts and enemies. You’ve noticed him faltering during the day, worsening his pain by not letting himself rest like should.

And it has only been worse since Hvitserk has been gone.

You know there are few people Ivar trusts fully, even fewer he entrusts the safety of his wife and daughter to. With just being here, Hvitserk granted his brother a peace nothing else can, a certainty that there was someone’s back to lean his own against, a promise that he could lower his guard and rest assured he wasn’t alone.

It is just a matter of days before Hvitserk returns, but you refuse to let Ivar run himself ragged.

So, you use your and not holding Ástrídr to wrap around his waist, and slowly move the three of you, as well as you can manage, back to lay on the bed.

With a slightly startled breath Ivar opens his eyes, focuses almost frantically on you and Ástríðr. You sigh again, but make use of the loss of his weight against you to settle against the pillows, holding your daughter better against your chest, your hand covering her back and holding her gently.

When you’re certain she’s comfortable, you lift your free arm and run your fingers through Ivar’s hair.

“You’ll rest.” You order, your eyes on your husband’s. He wants to argue, you know he does, a war between exhaustion and stubbornness, but it seems the pull is strong enough to even make him cave.

Ivar settles on your opposite shoulder from your daughter, his hand warm and rough as it settles over yours on her back. You chase tension off his back by running your hand up and down his back, and as both he and your daughter sleep safe and warm against you, you allow yourself a whisper of gratitude to the Gods.

You never knew what the Seer had meant when he told you so many years ago that ‘he can only use one hand and chooses to hold the sword, and for that you’ll need to hold the shield’, but now, as you hold your world close against you, you dare think that you understand the Ancient One’s words.

Eventually, the fear of something stealing her in the middle of the night passes. It always returns, that irrational fear he has that he will lose it all, that frantic paranoia that if he doesn’t plan, if he doesn’t prepare, they will take you both from him.

But as Ástríðr grows healthy and lively, the fears dwindle, or maybe they just change. And for a man that scorned the very uttering of the word, Ivar finds peace.

Through the halls, you follow the familiar sound of Ivar’s war cry, though quieter, and the adorable giggles of your daughter. Walking into your rooms, you make sure to remain hidden as you watch Ivar on the floor, holding himself up on his arms, mocking a taunt towards your daughter, daring the little shieldmaiden to attack.

A part of you is glad that this is a secret, a side of your husband, of your family, that the world will never know of. The world needn’t know of how easily Ástríðr makes her mother and father cave to her every wish, the world needn’t know of how fiercely and uncondicionally she is loved; only she needs to know of it, andn you and Ivar have made sure she lives a life knowing how loved she is.

You lean your shoulder on a pillar near the door, arms crossed over your chest but still betraying a smile.

Ástríðr brandishes a wooden sword at her father, big eyes strikingly alike Ivar’s when she focuses and finds her determination.

“I will defeat you!” She exclaims, the seriousness in her expression making your chest warm.

“You’re just a shieldmaiden, you can’t defeat me!” Ivar replies without missing a beat, faking a monster’s swipe with a hand that tries grabbing at her small foot.

Your daughter jumps out of the way with a squeal, but quickly furrows her brow adorably and lifts her chin, stubborn and arrogant.

Gods, Ivar is right, she looks so much like you.

“I am Ástríðr Ivarsdottir, I’ll always win!”

“Ah, you will, won’t you?” Ivar teases, letting go of the role of whatever beast he was supposed to be, grabbing onto your daughter and falling on his back with her in his arms, lifting the girl up and making her giggle. “Mighty shieldmaiden you’ll be, my sweet.”

“I know.” She replies without hesitation, startling a laugh out of you.

Two pairs of blue eyes turn to you, and Ástríðr wastes no time in calling out for you, squirming her way out of her father’s grasp and skipping towards you.

You kneel on the ground and welcome your daughter’s enthusiastic embrace, even if it was only this morning you last saw her.

“Did you defeat him, little one?” You ask her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Of course I did, mama.” She replies, almost offended. Of course, look whose daughter you’re asking about a victory in battle, imaginary or not.

You catch Ivar’s eyes and whatever intent you had on chastising him for leaving you to deal with the earl alone vanishes at the softness in his gaze at he looks at you both.

Not many know of Ivar the Boneless’ love. Even fewer know of his fear.

But there’s only a few lucky ones that have seen his happiness, his peace.

You two share a look, a look that speaks not only of gratefulness for one another, but of gratefulness for this perfect blend of the two of you, of your stubbornness and his drive, of his eyes and your hair.

Ivar betrays a small smile and his eyes go to the discarded wooden sword at his side.

“Oi, shieldmaiden!” He calls out, and Ástríðr turns to him without hesitation. “You never leave your weapon behind. It is the one thing, besides your mother and me, that you can trust blindly in this world.”

Ivar motions for the sword, and your daughter dutifully goes to pick it up, only to be ambushed on the way, Ivar’s eyes trapping her to his chest.

She is startled, and lets out a loud and adorable laugh as her father once again drops to the furs at his back, his smile blinding.

“You see? If you’d had your sword, no monster would have gotten you.”

Ástríðr grumbles an argument, but Ivar only snorts a laugh. His eyes lift to yours, and he lifts his hand, calling for the touch of yours, calling for you to join them.

You sigh, but still walk to them and stretch on the furs near the fire, accepting the embrace Ivar offers you when he lifts his free arm.

You nuzzle your nose against his throat, reaching with your hand and taming Ástríðr’s wild hair.

“Do you think one day I could defeat a dragon, like the warriors you tell me about?”

“Mhm, of course. You’ll be the most famous shieldmaiden who has ever lived.” He promises her, pressing a kiss against her hair, his arm tightening and trying to bring you closer even if it is impossible.

___

I struggled a lot writing this, I don’t really know why bc it was a lovely request. I tried my best :)

I hope you liked this, lovely anon! And I’m sorry it took me so long to get it done! I love you!!

[antiloreolympus]

6 Anti LO Asks

1. i figure one of the reasons the erotes arent involved and rachel amde up love word ocs is because one) we cant have GNC and/or gay gods actually be canon, now can we? but also 2) at least one (hymenaios) is almost always a child of apollo and a muse, meaning a positive character would actually have to be connected to him and we cannot let apollo have anything good, only hades deserves friends, parents, a family, wealth, status, and power and definitely no one ever calling him out on it.

2. tbh isnt zeus like, hades' only friend in mythology? zeus was willing to do everything for his bro, including getting him a wife and fighting to let them still have some dedicated time together and striking down his own grandson because he was messing with hades' domain and hades asked him to do it. the only myth fights i see between the brothers was actually zeus and poseidon. if anything zeus is probably hxp's biggest supporter and should be besties with hades, not butting heads with him.

3. wouldnt the whole fertility goddess plotline be better if persephone kept her connections to rhea and gaia though? like she'd be the fourth generation of direct fertility goddesses, that would account for her powers being an ancient source, not just randomly showing up that skipped over her own mother apparently? you know her mother whose name is literally "earth mother", who is totally not a fertility goddess for a totally valid reason, not rachel having some sort of mommy issues.

4. What I don’t get is not only is persephone designed to look exactly like Rhea (oedpius complex, so hot right now) but why does hades look exactly like Kronos? Why is the main couple literally just younger versions of a couple that was toxic and abusive? Does RS and her team have no concept of visual storytelling? Because these paint very bad implications that I don’t think they intended to be told, they just go for what’s “cool” looking and that’s it.

5. TBH the way someone like Rachel or other creators use the Greek gods is so Christianized. By that I mean they split everything up into “good” versus “bad”, where grey morality cannot exist, and by extension no actual flaws can exist, much less characters complexities.. The beauty of the Greek pantheon is they were purposely made to be flawed and complex. Hades is in myth a stern, terrifying god who literally kidnapped his wife, but he also loved Persephone and was moved by her tears over others she saw that died too soon, like Eurydice. Persephone could be gentle and kind, but was also cruel to those who she thought wronged her or she was just in a bad mood, such as with psyche or the two theban girls or Heracles’ daughter she had murdered to just to appease her bruised ego. Zeus could be a womanizing jerk, but he was also a god of hospitality and justice who could often be swayed to changing his mind for the better, and often doted on (most) of his kids, especially his daughters. That’s the point, the gods aren’t supposed to be pinned down into good versus bad sides, they were above that morality to begin with.

6. you know, i was willing to give rachel props for probably actually listening to her editor for once and actually letting hephaestus be ok, only to see she just slapped random prosthetics on him to claim "inclusive" points and called it a day. the legs he has on are only to be used while running, and would mess up his back if hes wearing them for his fantasy IT job. and of course he's only there for a single purpose of helping persephone, god forbid a character exist outside their use to hxp.

[sorrowful-prince-pelleas]

Imo, a major aspect of Kiara as a character is that while she projects onto The Little Mermaid, she doesn’t parallel her in a narrative sense, and that due to her inability to truly love others, she fundamentally doesn’t understand the narrative she loves so much.

During her childhood, where she was isolated and bedbound, one of the cultists gave her the book and so it was her only window info humanity and how “real people” behaved. For her, the characters of The Little Mermaid are idealized figures, and real-world humans not matching up to that ideal is what leads her to spiral down into who she becomes in CCC - a woman that doesn’t understand or caste for humanity, seeing herself as the only human.

(I want to point out that according to her bond CE, “on the brink of death, the girl holds a single book she treasures” - it’s possibly her only personal possession, or at the very least the only thing she has ever treasured, which makes her misunderstanding even more tragic!)

So, as a quick summary of The Little Mermaid : a Mermaid (who has a long life but no soul) saves a prince from drowning, and learns from her grandmother that humans have short lives but souls that ascend to heaven when they die - basically, humans have immortal lives after death.

She wishes to obtain a soul, but according to her grandmother,the only way for a mermaid to do so is to have a human love her so much that they share a soul. After this, she makes a pact with the sea witch to go on land - she trades her voice and tail for legs, and if the prince her she will gain a soul, while of the prince marries another woman she will turn to sea foam (as mermaids do then they die). However, the prince is already in love with a girl who saved him after the mermaid took him to shore, though he does care for the Mermaid as a sister.

Eventually, he is about to marry the other girl, and that night the mermaid’s sisters bring her a knife - if she kills the prince she will be able to return to being a mermaid. But seeing the prince and his wife, she can’t bring herself to kill him, and turns to foam. Afterwards, she meets “spirits of the air” that tell her that even if she doesn’t have a soul, if she works for 300 years as an air spirit, she can gain a soul.

It’s history is also incredibly important and interesting - Hans Christian Anderson was someone who was constantly faced with unrequited love, both towards women and men, and was also very occupied with the theme of religious salvation through love. So, him writing a story in which someone, despite their lack of a “soul”, is still able to gain a soul through good deeds as a reward for selfless love is very thematically resonant and also completely understandable.

CCC!Kiara funamentally lacks that sort of selfless love. While FGO!Kiara, still having a bit of who she was before the influence of CCC Kiara can learn selfless love through her relationship with Ritsuka, CCC Kiara is too far gone. She cannot conceptualize selfless love - she could never do what the little mermaid did and sacrifice her life for someone else’s happiness, because for her, other people are fundamentally not human and therefore don’t deserve to be saved, and their joy shouldn’t be prioritized; she can’t understand that the Sakura AI’s are beings that can feel real and legitimate love. No matter how much joy and comfort the book brought her, Kiara was never able to grasp it’s true meaning.

Unlike Kiara, BB parallels the mermaid, being an “inhuman” being with a potentially long life, but no “soul” in a sense. While Nasuverse humans are able to return to the root (the parallel of going to heaven for the Nasuverse), she’s an AI and so she can’t. This is further emphasized by her role in CCC - in the CCC Route Ending (which is the closest thing CCC has to a true ending) has BB sacrifice herself in order to save Hakuno and Sakura. Just like the little mermaid, she gives up her life to save the one she loves (who doesn’t love her back).

Unlike Kiara, BB is capable of the sort of true, selfless love that Andersen clearly admired, which I find to be super fascinating, and I love how FGO acknowledges that dynamic by having the summer mermaid Kiara embody Yaobikuni (who serves as a much closer parallel, being a holy woman that ate the flesh of a mermaid and became immortal) and Shen (a clam monster that creates mirages and changes it’s shape, which is what Kiara does very well!), and not the Little Mermaid herself.

[carllisle]

How do you think Esme argued with Rosalie, Emmett or Edward? How is she dealing with their shenanigans? Could you imagine first argument between her and Edward?

sorry it’s taken so long for me to get to this ask! thank you for asking, it means a lot that you have asked my opinion! i hope you're having a lovely day/evening/night

so in midnight sun we get a glimpse of how understanding and patient Esme is on the day of the baseball game when Edward notes that Esme had been trying to talk to Rosalie all afternoon about Bella and the Bella/Edward situation and even that they were holding hands when they were talking abt it on the baseball field. Edward also notes earlier that when Rosalie was first turned, Esme had a great deal of patience with Rosalie. Now, let’s be real, no one has an endless amount of patience, not even a vampire and there must have been something that would make her crack. I think that Esme was a willing ear when Rosalie mourned the human life she lost and how much she hates immortality and resents Carlisle for giving it to her. She probably encouraged Rosalie to talk to Carlisle about it to get it all out in the open and move past it as best as she could, but after a few years of still being resentful to Carlisle and calling him all the names under the sun Esme probably snaps. This would probably be because she saw how much Carlisle was hurting from Rosalie’s words and how much that added to his self-loathing. I think she argued with Rosalie and pointed out as sensitively as she could that without Carlisle, Rosalie would be dead and wouldn’t have any kind of life, and isn’t this half-life better than nothing? Would she really prefer death over life with Emmett? And that Carlisle thought he was doing the right thing by saving her! he deserves forgiveness and understanding, just as she deserves patience and compassion. I think Rosalie scoffed and said she never asked to be saved but after Esme put it like that she perhaps did some reflection and came to forgive him somewhat because after all he did give her some kind of life, and he gave her Emmett. 

Clearly Esme and Rosalie are very close but I think Rosalie’s stubbornness is perhaps a point of contention for them. Esme is also kind and compassionate and I think someone like Rosalie would find that annoying sometimes, because sometimes she just wants to rant and rave and be angry without someone trying to fix it, you know? Sometimes she just needs to have a good bitch about something and not have Esme try to fix it or ‘look on the bright side’. 

As Emmett is fairly easy-going and so is Esme, I can’t think of anything specific that they would argue about. Probably just small little tiffs here and there that are to be expected between adults that live in the same household - dirty shoes in the house, being messy/not doing his share of the household chores, getting irritated at her nagging, just common stuff. Given her past, when Edward and Emmett were rough-housing after his transformation I’m not sure she would have the courage to ask them to be more careful right away and maybe Carlisle asked them on her behalf. Later on in their relationship, I’m sure it became more of a reminder than an argument. Maybe she found his cavalier attitude about slip-ups upsetting, as Emmett seems to find slip-ups as an unavoidable part of their nature, whereas I imagine Esme to be deeply affected by each life she takes. Perhaps when he is trying to comfort her after she kills someone he makes an off-hand remark about how these things happen, it’s alright, and she blows up at him because she is so upset and she drills into him how it’s not alright. I’m not sure it would be an argument, though, because Emmett would likely apologise and so would she for misdirecting her anger at him. 

God with Edward it’s so hard to know because SMeyer is criminal in writing Esme’s devotion to her son. We’re supposed to believe that she was happy to leave Bella in New Moon, because of Edward’s remarks in Midnight Sun that Esme didn’t care about anything except his happiness, but I call bull. SMeyer writes her so 2-dimensionally. Esme is such a kind and loving person and over the summer between Twilight and New Moon we can only assume that Bella spent a huge amount of time with the Cullens and that her relationship with them all developed immensely. In my head, this means especially Alice, Emmett, and Esme. Look how devastated she was when they left, and in New Moon it’s explicitly clear that it’s not just because Edward left, but because they all did! Now would Esme be happy about Edward deciding to leave her instead of turn her? Absolutely not. Would she try to put her foot down and convince him to stay? Yes. When he argued back and refused to be swayed by her, would she ultimately follow his wishes? Unfortunately yes. I imagine there was still an argument between the two of them as Esme could easily put herself in Bella’s shoes and imagine what it would do to her. 

Esme joined Carlisle and Edward during Edward’s early years as a vampire and perhaps there were remarks made when Edward accidentally heard her thoughts and she resented that (even though she knew it was not his fault). She likes Tanya a lot and probably tried to get Edward to reciprocate Tanya’s affections or at least give her a chance and Edward firmly answered why he didn’t want Tanya in that way. Similar to her arguments with Rosalie, I think Esme argued with Edward about their nature as vampires. In my head, Esme is in touch with her faith as a Christian, always working to make sure her faith evolves with the world and always working on her relationship with God, scripture, and those she loves. I think she fundamentally disagrees with Edward about their souls and argues that they are not damned, they are not soulless, and they are not evil. She argues that Edward is not evil despite his countless murders nor is he damned for them, at which point Edward replies that he doesn’t regret his murders and he is not sorry, therefore he cannot ask forgiveness and he cannot be absolved, and he is doomed to the fiery pits below. Esme huffs but can’t fault his logic. So I imagine they have theological debates that can stray into passionate arguments. Carlisle is left on the sidelines and once again is stuck between the beliefs of his son, and the beliefs of his wife, still not knowing which argument he agrees with more. 

In terms of their first argument, I think it was about Charles. I’ve explored it in my long fic This New Life (ch 12 if ur interested teehee) where Edward is so enraged by the memories of him that Esme has that he wants to hunt him down. At this point in time Edward has never killed a person and despite the built up rage he had for Charles, Esme didn’t want him to go after him because she couldn’t bear for Edward to kill a person - even a person like that - in her name. I think she argued passionately for him to let Charles live because she couldn’t have lived with the guilt if Edward had killed him. She feared that it would be a mark on Edward’s soul and she would look at Edward and see the sin and see the man she hated. I think this argument was pretty passionate. Once Carlisle knew the extent of what Charles had done I believe he sided reluctantly with Edward for a while and agreed that Charles did not deserve to live, although deep down Carlisle wanted to exact revenge for the horrors committed against the woman he loved. After Esme pointed out (passionately, emotionally) that they were trying to control her and make decisions for her just like Charles had done, Carlisle backed off and allowed his mind to be changed and he joined Esme in asking Edward not to go against her wishes. 

Once he got back from his travels as feminist vigilante legend, a trip during which Charles was his first ever victim, I think Esme was so overwhelmed to have him home that she didn’t even care about Charles. Edward justified himself pretty quickly by saying that he would have gone on this spree anyway and committed all these murders, so he was just one in many, and that was good enough for Esme tbf, and it allowed her to move on finally. 

Sorry, this got really long and rambly but I hope it made sense! Thank you again for asking! 

[fcb-mv33]

Horner cheated on his pregnant wife. Max got his title gifted. Your daddy Jos abused his wife Max supported him in that. He's racist. Are you that dumb, Cassie? /

Op will gladly tell Christian all about how displeased they are about him cheating on his then pregnant wife so many years ago 🙄🙄. I'm not going to defend cheating, as it is a pretty dick thing to do especially to someone who is having your child but that is personal family matter, we don't know any of the parties involved, we don't know what transpired, we literally know jack shit. Cheating is wrong but it's not always an indicator of someone is good or bad like allegedly Lewis cheated on Nicole, does that make him a bad person? I say allegedly because like Christian these are rumors from the daily fucking mail. Your sources are a pile of bullshit. They're a joke. And please don't pretend to care about Horner's ex because I doubt you even know her name.

Pissing myself at the Max got gifted his title last season. Only team LH anons are so blind lmao. Did you even watch last season?

Fucking hilarious how you think op even tolerates Jos when they've been more than open about how much they hate and dislike him for good reason. Max was a kid and teenage during this period of time, if you were fortunate enough to grow up without an abusive parent literally shut the fuck up. I'm not going to speculate on Max's relationship with his father but there are so many red flags from stories about how Jos treated him, safe to say it wasn't a healthy environment at the very least. Unless you had a parent like Jos you can't say jackshit. You hear stories about it, Max had to survive them. You know who else suffered under Jos? Sophie, Max's mother. I'm pretty sure she still has a restraining order against him with good reason. Max's relationship with her tells you everything you need to know about Max.

Lol genuinely like I have Christian on speed dial I’ll give him a ring and let him know an anon is so displeased at him lol. Like seriously it’s bad af cheating is disgusting but Lewis has a good few accusations as well.

And they literally only watched the last three races and decided Lewis deserved the title lol, forgot all the other races where Max was so much better.

And if they looked through my blog they would know I genuinely cannot stand jos but he is Max’s dad…like you cannot expect a child to chose between one parent and Max did not cause he he literally loves him mother so fucking much…that’s not even a question so for them to bring that up is vile. But I like this…you got great points anon🧡🧡

[ryanmeft]

Movie Review: The Tiger Rising

The Tiger Rising is a book by multi-Newbery-winning author Kate DiCamillo that has been adapted into a movie that will not be winning any awards of any kind. That isn’t, in and of itself, tragic, as plenty of good movies don’t win awards. What is tragic is that Newbery Medals are about honoring books that give young readers the respect they deserve, and this movie does not give young viewers any respect at all.

Rob Horton (Christian Convery) and his father Robert (Sam Trammell) have moved to Florida to escape the trauma of Rob’s mother’s (Katherine McPhee) death from cancer; she is shown entirely in flashbacks. There Robert does low-paid handyman jobs for the cruel and arrogant motel owner Beauchamp (Dennis Quaid) and Rob goes to a school where he is bullied relentlessly for a visible infection on his legs. It is never really explained why his mother’s death meant they had to leave their house and move to a seedy motel in another state, other than the fact his dad didn’t want to hear people talking about his deceased wife, which seems a poor reason to do that to a kid. Rob’s class is joined by Sistine (Madalen Mills), who is fiery and hates the south and is named after the Sistine Chapel. We are frequently reminded that not knowing this means you are stupid. They will eventually discover that Beauchamp is caging a tiger he intends to use for promotion, and plan to set the unfortunate beast free. Queen Latifah rounds out the cast as a sage room cleaner, while Angela Giarratana is built up as a sympathetic teacher and then forgotten about.

The fundamental assumptions in the mind of first time feature writer-director Ray Giarratana are all hugely insulting to not-yet-grown persons. He assumes they cannot grasp the words of adults unless they are obvious and simple. He assumes they cannot communicate their own strong feelings without resorting to an outburst. He assumes they cannot tell who is bad and who is not unless the bad person swaggers like Mick Jagger. Worst of all, he assumes that they cannot understand a movie with complex situations, emotions, and lessons without being spoon-fed the lessons and having the emotions conveyed with hammy overacting.

One would think that we’d be past these assumptions. If they do not know or care about film or literary history, they could at least watch Harry Potter and maybe latch onto the notion that kids the age of the film’s fifth graders are a lot smarter and tougher than adults give them credit for. Here we have fifth graders who are too stupid to realize a tiger can and will eat them, too thick to understand when it is explained to them that a wild tiger cannot live in the jungles of Florida, and too sheltered to realize that bragging, threatening show-offs like Quaid’s ridiculous character are bad news. I, for one, knew all this by the time I was seven.

Despite not being marketed as faith-based, the film’s frequent reminders that God is good and all powerful and can do anything start to feel like an excuse for it being a bad movie. The very fact I mention this in my review will of course cause the Sunday Church crowd to say I dismissed the movie because it is religious. I can assure them, I dismiss it not because it is religious but because it is religious badly. It’s impossible not to be taken right out of a film where a mother and son are lying on a picnic blanket admiring the summer greenery, and the mother starts saying it looks like the first green God ever made. Equally impossible is to try not to chuckle when a woman rounds a corner and sees a tiger and says, out loud, “Who can doubt the fearfulness of God when he can make something like that?”

These are merely bad religious lines in a movie full of lines that are bad, period. Mills has the opposite qualities of Quvenzhane Wallis, who hit the scene at age nine with a thunderclap. She has only two tones of voice, sarcastic and sarcastic-but-louder, hissing every line she does not bark. She was ten when filming, so we will give her the benefit of the doubt and blame the screenplay. Quaid was not ten. While not exactly an actor whose name has ever put behinds in seats, he’s better than this. He’s even better than this in his numerous faith-based roles, which are themselves often not very much better than this. Latifah has more oomph in one finger than she shows here. The only logical conclusion is that a career effects man has made his first feature film, and made it very poorly. Befitting his career on visuals, scant moments of brief joy occur when Rob’s woodcarvings are made to seem alive. Otherwise, there’s no reason for anyone to see this movie, not with more than enough options available that won’t outright insult the young audience they want to draw.

Verdict: Avoid Like The Plague

Note: I don’t use stars, but here are my possible verdicts.

Must-See

Highly Recommended

Recommended

Average

Not Recommended

Avoid like the Plague

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