#((To be fair I am still going slower with the art this year than the previous years i'm still going strong on that NYR))

[queenharumiura]

Narrator voice: She has forgotten why she was mad in the first place.

This is a piece I commissioned for. Do not steal, do not edit, do not use, and do not repost. I was given permission to post this onto my blog. Okay to reblog.

Haru Miura and Gokudera© Akira Amano

Artist is Fluffypepole from dA

[leapdayowo]

this^^^

If you want to improve your artwork, it’s going to take so much time! I’m sorry, there is no ‘get good in a week’ miracle. There is only lots of practice and experimenting and ‘messing up.’ If anyone wants some advice on what practice looks like, because telling someone to practice is vague and thus unhelpful, stick around I have a few pointers :) scroll all the way to the bottom for bullet points because I like to over explain

First off, almost always draw! Whenever, wherever, and with whatever is available to you. If you’re still in school, keep doing the doodles in your notes! Same can probably go for when you’re at work and things are slow. Keep a scrap piece of paper or sticky notes with you and a cheap pen or pencil and draw what’s around you, what piques your interest, even the cliche things

Here are some of my more recent doodles, but I have note books and scrap paper full of these doodles. Within the last year I’ve been very focused on the human form, so a lot of my doodles are break downs of different poses. I have no expectations for these pieces other than to keep myself entertained in class and play around with my art. So just mess around with low expectations!

Now, as a traditional artist I have a stack of sketchbooks that is getting close to being as tall as I am. Materials can get expensive or not easy to access depending on where you live. If you’re getting serious about your art and its quality, I do recommend finding nicer materials to work with (though this does depend on what effect you’re going for with your art). However, using expensive materials does not always mean better quality or automatically mean your art will be better, often the quality of the art comes from how well you know how to use the materials and your understanding of art (look up elements and principles of art). I myself still use crayola colored pencils and the same mechanical pencil from 5 years ago taped together. I have invested in some nicer paints such as Winsor and Newton watercolors and Canson sketchbooks work fine for me. Finding the right materials will come with time, trial and error, research, and maybe some self reflection. I HIGHLY recommend not investing right away with the more expensive materials unless you have 1) learned the basics of art and feel ready to take on a new medium 2) financially can afford to experiment with more expensive options. Even if you can afford the materials let me say this one last time, the price of the paint or paper does not automatically equate to better art, it��s how you use those materials that matter. Now, that being said, cheaper materials often have their limits, and if you begin to notice these limitations I congratulate you on realizing this and recommend upgrading your stuff :)

Also, if you use cheaper materials it’s less of a big deal if you ‘mess up’ because it wasn’t very costly (maybe 50¢ or so)

good art materials to start with (not an exclusive list):

-colored pencils or crayons

-regular pencils

-ball point pens

-charcoal

-recycled materials (more in line with collage work)

-markers or sharpies

Now where was I… Oh! Going off of the OPs post, ask yourself why your art isn’t good enough. Are you comparing to people who are at a different level of experience than you? Then that isn’t a fair comparison. Being online makes it very difficult not to compare, but how do you know the person you’re comparing yourself to hasn’t had professional teaching for years? Consistent critiques and guidance from peers or other experienced artist? Some people learn concepts faster than others, so if you learn at a slower pace acknowledge that and try gesture drawings or maybe a new art style entirely if you’re really feeling frustrated. Often the expectations we place on ourselves hold us back. Another thing to ask yourself is are you able to handle constructive feedback? I remember when I was about 10 years old I had an art teacher encourage me to put green in the ocean of my drawing of a sunset. I was offended she would consider such a thing! It felt like a personal offense and I refused to put green in the ocean because obviously water is blue! Well… a few years later I decided to follow her advice as I grew more frustrated with how flat and unexciting my art was, and what would you know? There was green in the ocean! There’s lots of colors in water! I still struggle with lighting and reflections, but that was a very important memory for me. I urge you to be more open minded than I was with feedback on your art as it can save you years of art block!

Now, if you are one of those people who created an art account on social media in the hopes of getting famous, I hope you do, but know that is likely not a realistic expectation for a few reasons. There a thousands, if not millions of people with that same idea as you and many of the people with a large following got lucky or had a lot of time to build up that following. Don’t expect to be lucky, and desperately trying to get follows tends to put people off. Are you making art because you even enjoy it at that point? It absolutely feels great to get recognition for your work I won’t deny that, but once you rely on validation from others you will never be satisfied and always need more validation. Try finding fulfillment from the art you are making without relying on others to give you that feeling. What others say about your work is icing on the cake. You have to protect that passion and love for creation fiercely, especially in a day and age where art is being commodified and devalued more and more by others who only care about monetary value. Alright, moving on from the self reflection aspect of making art, take your studies seriously! If you truly wish to improve your art, observe the world around you! Draw it! Draw it terribly or draw it so well you wish you had brought nicer paper than an old receipt! Draw people, buildings, animals, food, reflections in a puddle or the texture of a fuzzy jacket. You like that person’s hair? Draw it! That tree looks cool? Draw it! Draw the folds of fabric and shadows at sunrise. The other part of your studies will be looking at what other artists do that you like or don’t like. Look at a variety of time periods, styles, cultures, and mediums. If an artist is on social media, comment on their work and really try and figure out why you like this particular piece and tell them! Explains your vocabulary and ability to talk about art. This will be something that will eventually become second nature after years of practice. I can’t do anything or go anywhere without thinking ‘oh wow those windows reflect the sky really cool’ or ‘the colors of my meal today work really well.’ I’ve filled my camera roll with stuff that inspired me and drawing references. Also, you will find inspiration in the places you might least expect. I have gone down rabbit holes of online content in the pursuit of a drawing reference (I now know more than the average person about western historical dress construction as one example). Soak it all in! Also, being an artist will likely require you to learn about physics and definitely anatomy. Learn how to draw and paint realistically. Learn all the proper rules of art so that you can turn around and meticulously or explosively proceed to break every single rule in your art. And have fun with it! Play with art styles and mediums you wouldn’t usually associate your work with, you may be surprised what you learn!

Edit: one last thing to add is try learning how to work around or with your mistakes! If you draw with a permanent marker or pen, learn how to get creative with making your mistakes look intentional or as an opportunity to learn. Learn methods of covering those mistakes and starting over or make the mistake the shining focal point of the piece. It’s not the end of the world I promise! The more you learn to work with mistakes, the more you might realize starting a new painting or drawing is less daunting

And the last thing is, know that for thousands of years humans have been making art. No matter who, where, and when we have always been trying to create. What humanity has taken thousands of years to learn, you are trying to speed run in your life time. I don’t mean for that to be stressful, I say that so that you will remember truly how incredibly it is that we can make art. That we want to create. Be patient, let your passion and curiosity flourish, and practice :)

Now here are the cliff notes as promised:

-doodle with cheap materials at every opportunity you can get (try not to let the rest of your life suffer for this though)

-expensive materials ≠ automatically good art

-start with cheap materials, learn basics of art, then slowly upgrade your supplies (your wallet will thank me)

-ask yourself why you think your art is bad. Everyone is at different levels of experience and learn at different rates, comparing yourself negatively is unfair

-don’t expect to get famous online with your art in a matter of weeks. You either need to get lucky or take a while to build up a following. Also, be careful seeking validation only from others

-also online art connections need to be complimented with getting involved in person with the art community. Networking involves face to face communication

-study the world around you and draw it! Draw as much as you can! Learn as much as you can about anything and everything! Study artist of lots of varieties

-learn how to talk about art (you can practice by commenting about the things you like about online artists’ works. Be specific. Things you don’t like can be kept in a private journal unless an artist specifically asks for feedback. Learn how to critic without being mean about it)

-lastly, know that it’s incredibly that you are carrying on the human tradition, which is thousands of years old, of drawing! It’s amazing we seek to create :D

Also, I have kept all of my old art on my instagram account as a testament to the gradual growth I’ve gone through as an artist. I too had the absurdly long anime legs phase of art. We all have unique journeys of making art and sometimes it’s going to feel like you’re getting worse, try something completely new when this happens, but just keep creating or thinking about creating stuff :D I believe in you!

btw with art when people say 'youve got to do it scared' 'youve got to draw bad' 'youre not gonna know how to do it until you do it' it sounds like bullshit but its true. 90% of art is just getting over the fear that it's not going to be good enough to deserve to be made in the first place. but you're here. you're alive and, with no need to justify that, you're going to make art. it's just part of being alive. you'll spend so long worrying you aren't doing it good enough that you'll look back and realized you didn't live a single day of it.

[emberlynnrayne]

12-20-24

I haven't had a relationship with my mom for two and a half years. I was struck with a memory of her last night. After she left my dad, she was lamenting the loss of identity, of her interests and her Wolves.

Wolves were my mom's whole thing growing up. Everything wolf. She had so much art of wolves. When she left my dad, her connection to wolves was gone and she didn't understand it.

I came across one of my Anne Stokes pictures in storage and felt a disconnect from it, triggering the memory. It's one of many things that don't feel like me anymore.

After ending a relationship over a decade long, I am not the same person. I am more limited than I used to be. I am cynical and reserved. I have had whole hearted this-is-forever love, and I have suffered the decay of that sugar in my blood.

( Ha. The irony of the metaphor doesn't escape me. I'm keeping it. )

I loved him with everything I had. I put my entire self into my marriage. I poured everything into that man and the love I felt for him. I truly gave it my all. Only one person currently active in my life can understand that part. The decay and hurt of Deep Love a decade plus gone, and the way it changes a person. "Failure" isn't a fair word for what happened, but that's what it feels like. Not only *my* failure, but both of us, our upbringings, the world around us, and almost even the fabric of reality. I was so certain for so long, and I was so wrong. A million reasons, a million excuses, a million choices.

It changed the way I feel things, and I'm still recovering and recalibrating. In some ways, I'm healthier than ever. In others, I am still small and hiding. I am slower, more cynical. Disillusioned.

This disillusionment leads to a level of (Nihilism, I think?) The lack of control feels like a natural segue into "Nothing actually matters and there is no grand purpose or power." Which is like. Cool. That means I can let go of a lot of stress and guilt and fear. Right? Yay. But also, that means my life really is up to me.

I am reaching what feels like a radical level of self acceptance because I understand that *All I will ever always have, no matter what, is myself.* No one else can even help me unless *I* choose to let myself be helped. It feels empowering and diminishing. I am only me. It is thrilling and terrifying. My life is my own. Breathless and exhilarating.

But something about the tsunami that was Leaving and Left, left me scooped out, buried, or just washed away. I can't Feel like I used to. I can't Express the way I used to. I can't have Faith like I used to. I take everything for what it is today, because tomorrow? All I can feel for tomorrows is "We'll see." There's a damper on everything I Feel. Hesitancy in fear. Feelings have consequences and my Deep Feelings had big consequences.

The only way I can protect myself and make my life as whole and happy as possible, is to get healthy. Learn to give myself Balance. Grace. Boundaries. I cannot isolate and suffocate myself and still be Happy. I want to be Happy. I deserve Happiness. The fire in me will drag me into tomorrow every single time I am on my knees begging life to stop. So if I must live, I will live happily.

Happy.

Partner makes me happy.

Ooooooh how itchy I get inside, expressing my love in writing and words. I see everything I wrote in love with my ex husband and I am disgusted with myself. I was so good at focusing on the good. It got me through so much of the bad. I was so goddamn stupid and useless. I would've judged the shit out of anyone else in my position, honestly. If anyone knew. How much did they know? How openly and earnestly I loved this person, the very same one isolating, threatening, and hurting me? How much of each side people might've seen... My stupidity on full display. I loved him wholeheartedly. I have written my heart out for each love- and each love has upped the ante of devastation in it's end.

I Love C. So much. I still get scared by how much I love them. Every surge of Feeling- so welcome, so raw, so Much. Love scares me now. I lost myself before. I walked through hell for Love. I am weak to love. Like an addict, willing to do anything to keep their high. I don't want to be like that again.

C loves me, too. And I really believe it's a Healthy Love. I don't think C would let me lose myself for them. C is so adamant that I continue to find and be Myself.

I want to write about the way I love C. Then my brain throws up memories about the vows I wrote to my ex husband. The vows I read in one of those times that I thought my love could mind the gap. The vows I read before finding out that he never wrote his. And he forgot the ring. That he hated the whole thing.

I do want to marry C. C is probably the only thing I have steady Faith in. When I think about the ways we could End, it's always my fault or my shortcomings.

I keep waiting for C to fall into the same patterns I've always known, but they don't!!! They just never do. C never yells at me, C never guilts me, C is never aggressive towards me, C never threatens me, never tries to control me, never tells me to shut up or that I'm too much. I enjoy being with C. I adore the way their mind works. Their humor, their laugh, their quips and facts and innuendos. The way they move. The way they smile. The way they think of me, talk with me, and listen to me. I love the way they Get Things Done. I love their practicality, their logic, and their emotional depth. They are considerate, supportive, engaging, kind, respectful, forgiving, understanding, thought-provoking, as mature as they can be ridiculous! Being near C makes me feel Safe and Secure. I trust C.

I will marry C. I will be (already am!) happy, in love, and loved. Actually... I think the future I share with C is the only thing I really enjoy thinking about, regarding Tomorrows.

One day, I'll be able to write about love in a beautiful way again, and I will write for Them. They Inspire me so much, and my voice will not always be lost. One day, my words will sing for my partner.

[qnewsau]

Archie Arsenic calls for more accessible queer spaces

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/archie-arsenic-calls-for-more-accessible-queer-spaces/

Archie Arsenic calls for more accessible queer spaces

In our monthly feature with local artists, Archie Arsenic answers questions about themselves, their craft and calls for more accessibility on the Brisbane scene. 

I would describe Archie Arsenic as….

Honestly, I don’t even know anymore, I’ve evolved so many times over the years. Draglesque and sideshow chameleon perhaps? 

My drag family and bio family….

Intertwine! They are my biggest supporters and advocates and we all share our knowledge and help each other grow both in drag and in our personal lives, I’m so grateful to have such a support network and wouldn’t be where I am today without them. 

Aurora Arsenic, Justine Deeva and MaMa Arsenic are my blood family and my drag family includes Dahlia Dyer, Asphyxia, Clint Taurus, Big Red Kara, Zelphia Mann and Trysten Sellwood! 

The first time I did drag was…

Queer Sister Smackdown Season 2 2016, my sister Aurora Arsenic was competing and I got done up in drag to support and was hooked instantly. 

I chose the name Archie Arsenic…

To tie in with my sister Aurora Arsenic. A Disney character starting with A (Archimedes from Sword in the Stone) + Arsenic 

The Brisbane scene needs…

More accessibility and accommodation for disabled artists and patrons. For me it’s seating – I cannot stand for more than a few minutes at a time so even waiting backstage to go on can be an ordeal for me, or dressing rooms that are far away/upstairs/have no seating. 

Disabled patrons also deserve to be able to attend shows, venues, community events but accessibility is a big issue. It has definitely improved lately and I hope it continues to do so. 

Read next: LGBTIQ+ people with disability – shifting the framework

RuPauls’ Drag Race is…

A double-edged sword. It’s wonderful that drag has become more mainstream and therefore has inspired many new drag artists to start as well as more gigs to go around. But it’s also set an expectation of elaborate and expensive costumes and that to be a queen you need to be a dancer who does tricks. 

Gender is…

Irrelevant to who you are as a person. 

The best thing a fan has done for me was…

I’ve had fan art made a fair few times and it always blows me away that someone was inspired by me to create art. 

The worst thing someone in the audience has done was…

The thing I hate most and it unfortunately happens semi-regularly is getting groped while I’m performing if I’m in with the crowd. A costume is not consent! 

My best skills as a performer are….

I’ve gotten a lot slower over the years as my health has declined so I can’t dance like I used to but my forte is definitely sideshow (fire and angle grinding) I’ve also had to learn the art of minimalism/stillness and still being able to captivate a crowd. 

One message I have for our community is…

There’s no LGB without the T. Transphobia in our community is rampant and it’s so disappointing to see. We are a minority as it is and excluding important and founding members of our community only breeds hate. We need to love and protect each other. 

The most important skill you can have as a drag artist is…

The ability to converse with all types of people in our community. It’s amazing what you learn from all different people but also being friendly and approachable builds a fan base, people may want to come out if they know you’re performing and word of mouth is a great way to get booked!

Something people don’t know about doing drag is…

It’s expensive! Even a simple outfit.  Wigs, makeup, lashes, tights, shoes, costumes etc. It takes time and money to build up a wardrobe so that’s why we outfit repeat, especially in the early days. 

My favourite performance ever was…

Performing on a pontoon in the middle of Circular Quay in Sydney while John Paul Young sang Love is in the Air with Philma Bocks, Art Simone, Karen from Finance, Maude Boat and Vonni. While fireworks were going off all around us. I’ll never forget that moment. 

The best experience I’ve had performing was…

Big Gay Day 2023! For two reasons. I got to share/teach angle grinding to my sister Aurora Arsenic and we performed it together for the first time! She’s now obsessed with sideshow and I couldn’t be prouder. I also got to feature alongside trans showgirl trailblazers and icons such as Malika, Yana Michelle and Kelly Roberts and it was an absolute privilege and honour. 

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by 🏳️‍🌈 ₳RCHIE ₳RSENIC 🏳️‍⚧️ (@archiearsenic)

Something people are surprised to learn about me is…

That I’m a classical violinist/violist and have been playing for 25 years! I’d love to combine my love of playing and drag/burlesque one day but am terrified. One day perhaps. 

The performer who deserves more attention is…

I am a massive fan of Gia Von She! Powerhouse vocalist and fantastic dancer, she’s only been in the scene for about a year and I cannot wait to see how she evolves. 

The drag performer I’d hate to live with would be…  

Probably Asphyxia, I’d want to steal their wigs and costumes all the time and I’m also obsessed with their paint. I’d just feel inadequate. 

In 2024 I hope….

I’ve taken some time off to recover from surgery and to focus on my health.  In 2024 I hope to be able to be more present in the community, attend more shows/ community events and see more of the talent we have in our city (all types, not just drag). I’m inspired by my peers and love seeing everyone grow!

You can follow Archie Arsenic on Instagram @archiearsenic 

Read next: Meet Mama Arsenic, Brisbane’s Beloved Drag Mother

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[writers-lack-of-craft]

Insomnia? I got you.

It's more than fair not to be able to fall asleep sometimes at night. Hell, I know I usually can't. So here's a list of (mostly) realistic things you could do when insomnia places toothpicks to keep your eyes open.

Stare at the wall and regret every life choice you've ever made. (kidding. am I? No, yeah, I'm kidding. O_o)

Have a pretend argument with your stuffed animals. They are very opinionated but their opinions are wrong. (okay, also kidding.)

Shadow-box your demons and then promptly run when they punch back. (last one, I promise)

For real though,

Listen to some music. Doesn't matter what kind - any which way you're feeling. Maybe have a little dance party with the stuffed animals you were just arguing with.

Unsubscribe from junk emails.

Journal. Write something, anything, about your life in the notebook. Write about that neighbour that is always fighting with her husband. Write about the moment you realized that some someone, somewhere, still remembers you because you were kind to them when no one else was.

Organize - makeup, clothes, art supplies, kitchen drawers, that one manic obsession you had for a week.

Meal prep. You have the time now. This way you don't have to eat the depressing unseasoned deli meat between two slices of white bread. Don't be shy. Add some vegetables. Actually have some fibre in your diet.

Read some poetry. Listen to some slam. Relate, be wowed, wonder how someone could think so eloquently when you have the brain speed of a slower-than-average sloth.

Write some poetry. Get frustrated. Write about your frustration. Be proud of the discombobulated writing you produced.

Watch a movie. Actually watch the first episode to the show your friend has been telling you to watch for a month, no wait, two months.

Write a letter to yourself a year from now. Label it as such and put it away to read when the time comes.

Look at old pictures of yourself and take the time to realize how much you've grown. Recognize the wounds that still haven't healed. Slowly fold away those, possibly painful, memories.

Think about an excuse to text your childhood friend to meet up and reconnect. Suggestions? Grabbing a cup of coffee, a stroll around the old neighbourhood, or tell them about something that reminded you of them.

Search up images of fluffy dogs on the internet. Scroll. Keep scrolling.

Plan the next day, even though technically it's the same day, a few hours later. Include breaks. No need to always be on the go.

Pick up a binge-read-able book. I find that John Green books are the way to go, but you can always have bad taste and read something else. (see, that sense of humour is back. I am JOKING -please recommend good books :))

Stretch. You don't have to be fancy with a yoga tutorial (or do, all the power to you), just help your body release all the stress from the day previous. In the words of the beloved queen, let it goooo.

[angelofthepage]

I was one of those kids that loved reading. I ran to books to escape, to go on wild adventures, to be a ghost alongside the characters, and it was great. But then English class kind of ruined it for me. Being forced to read books that just, were too close to real life with all these really hopeless looks on life, they cut into my time to read what I wanted, wasn't fun. But the more frustrating thing was my English teachers, and how if you didn't interpret the book the same way as them, they would fail you. There was no room in our discussions for any alternate views, and that sucked. What was the point in trying if thinking for yourself didn't yield the best result? At a certain point I just stopped reading, I turned to SparkNotes. I think SparkNotes are a genuinely good tool and helpful when it comes to learning the material, but like, I wish I hadn't felt the need to stop reading, that I could've used them together instead of giving up.

I was so burnt out after that, I wouldn't read a book for fun until 2019 when Dreams Come to Life came out. It was nice to just read for fun again, it was easy to slide into since I already liked the world it took place in, but I'll admit, I have reread it since. Still working through the burnout I suppose. I've read all the Bendy books at least once, but I should go back and read them again. What am I afraid of, that it won't be as magical the second time? I mean fair, nothing will ever compare to the shock on my face in the middle of The Lost Ones, that caught me so off guard. I have never had a moment where I didn't want to put a book down like that, I NEEDED to know what happened next. It was great. I will never have those three days back again where I stayed up way too late turning the pages. But like, maybe that's okay. Maybe another experience where I take it slower and just, read, is okay. It doesn't have to be a lore hunt (though I should read them again for a lore hunt), but there can be a blend of reading for enjoyment and engagement of critical thinking, that's okay.

And like, part of what I love about these books is kind of silly, I love that I'm free to interpret them as whatever. That's such a silly thing to say, like Kat of COURSE you can interpret it as whatever, books are made to be that way! But it didn't feel that way to me for years, and feeling like I can do something is important for actually being able to do it. With the game, even though it's another form of art, it feels more set in stone in terms of lore (which is silly because it really isn't) but with the books, there's a lot you can do with them, there's a lot of things you can get out of them. I have a huge distaste for when people go "well the author intended for this because of X," like in classic literature especially, I don't like that. It feels like putting words in someone else's mouth to justify your views when you word it that way. But when you say "this is what I got out of it, and here's why," pointing to things you noticed, that is just, so nice, like hey, you connected with the text and came to your own conclusions. And you can point to what led you there too? You figured out what the meaning was for you, that's so cool! And I'm thankful to have met a lot of people who got wildly different and similar meanings from this text within this fandom. Some of the discussions I've had or been privy to concerning these books have been a lot more productive than high school English classes ever were. It's so NICE! It's nice to have meaningful discussions about it! It's nice to be free to just, roll with it and see where the rabbit hole takes you!

Tldr: Really glad the Bendy books exist and that they've let me enjoy reading again. I'm thinking about rereading them at some point, not sure when, just at some point.

[mystical-marauder]

Painting stars

Sirius enters an art shop, hoping to finally buy the supplies he'd been saving up for for months, but walking through that door brings him much more than expected

This is my first oneshot and I hope you like it and I'll post more writing like this hopefully and my writing can also be found on ao3 my username is @loveglowslikethemoon hope you enjoy :)

Today had been pretty quiet with only a couple customers and the shop was closing in 10 minutes, I was ready to go home...

Ding!

I look up from my book, ‘What kind of customer turns up this late?’ I think. I look around to the door, standing there is a tall, handsome young man, his grey eyes excitedly glancing over the shop, his black hair tied up into a bun. His fair skin is disrupted only by a small beauty mark, under his eye. The confident smile that suddenly splits his face as he turns to me, brings out two dimples that break his otherwise smooth cheeks.

"Afternoon! I'm looking for art supplies, I mean I am in an art shop" he says, chuckling. "I actually need some advice, you have a very wide selection and I'm not quite sure what to pick." he gestures vaguely at the shelves full of pencils and brushes, paint and charcoal, canvases and sketchbooks... "You see I love painting but I have no idea which brushes to use, it's embarrassing really."

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, actually it's quite common, that’s what I’m here for” I reply with a smile “So you said you paint, right? What do you need, brushes, paint, canvases…?”

“I… um… I actually need everything… You see my parents, well, they kicked me out… and I left everything there… but I've finally saved up enough money to buy new supplies so here I am” he explains chuckling nervously. I look around nervously, unsure what to answer to that but I try to remain as steady and professional as possible.

“That's… terrible, I’m so sorry.” I say, smiling nervously, trying to seem comforting.

“It’s alright, it’s a good riddance I guess.” he replies cheerily “so about those supplies, what do you recommend?”

“Follow me, I’ll show you my recommendations. You’ll have to tell me a bit more about your style of painting so I can give you my best advice.” I say, leading him over to the shelves.

I quickly give him an overview of the different supplies before giving him a more detailed review of each product and advice. We slowly go through the shop and I don’t even notice the minutes fly by. As I walk to another shelf, I catch a glimpse of the clock. I should’ve closed the shop half an hour ago but I decide to leave it. I was having fun. What was the harm of staying open a little while longer? As the minutes pass, our chatter becomes less professional and more friendly. We talked and laughed together and soon enough, we’d picked out all his new art supplies.

“Well there’s everything you need!” I say, walking back to the counter. I start counting the price while chatting to him. “That’s £81.99, the easel is on the house for being such an amiable customer. Do come back if you ever need anything else, it was a pleasure to serve you.” I smile sadly, it had been more than a pleasure and I wish we didn’t have to say goodbye now.

“Thank you” he answers, giving me another of his confident smiles “I- I was wondering if umm… this might sound a bit weird but-” his piercing grey eyes quickly shift away, his normally confident appearance fading to show a childlike nervousness. “Before I left home, well, before I was forced out, I was studying anatomy, and well… I think you'd make the perfect model… Would it be alright if I painted you? If you don't mind, of course. Please don't feel forced to accept anything, but I'd love it if you do. And we could get a chance to get to know each other a little better, maybe somewhere where you don't work.” he clears his voice, as though happy to get this over with, and shifts his grey eyes back to me, his confidence returning. A new childish smile splits his face, as though it had never left it.

My eyes widen as I register what he just asked, and I quickly look away, embarrassed. ‘Perfect?’ as the word races through my mind again and again, I feel my face heat a little. Perfect? Me? No one had ever even called me pretty, let alone perfect, but now this man, who looks like a model himself, wants me to model for him and used that word to describe me. I return the smile, although mine is more nervous than childlike. He tilts his head slightly as though reading my emotions but seconds later, he lets out a small laugh which I quickly copy, trying to diffuse the awkwardness that flourished in me throughout this interaction.

“Are you sure you want me? I mean-” I cut off as I watch him nod confidently “alright I'd love to then!” I answer him, flattered, yet I can't stop the slight shake of my hands. What if I mess up? What if he ends up hating me?

“See you then” he says happily, turning away with a wink. I watch him as he walks out, finding myself to be grinning like a child, like him. I only have one thought left, ‘I don't have to say goodbye.’ I stay standing there for a few minutes with this thought before I snap back to reality. My eyes snap to the clock.

“Fuck” I whisper as I work out the time. If my boss finds out I closed the shop two hours late, I'm done for. ‘Oh well, it was worth it’ I think ‘and anyways he might not even find out.’ I start packing my bag when I suddenly realise he didn't give me a name let alone an address, how was I ever going to find him?! My eyes trail back to the door but of course he is long gone by now… I look around, panicked, as though expecting something to magically give me his address and that's when I notice the folded piece of paper on the counter. I slowly open it, my fingers trembling at the thought that it may not be what I think. I flatten out the paper and quickly read the snippet of writing. I smile inwardly, holding the small, unfolded piece of paper, relief slowly flooding through me as I trace the sentence again and again with my eyes, struggling to believe the evening's events.

19:30 tomorrow room 29 Mirror Hotel - Sirius Black

“Sirius Black” I whisper softly, smiling. “It's nice to meet you, Sirius Black”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I try to steady my hand as doubt rises in me again, one thought racing continuously through my mind ‘What if I mess up?’ I reach out and knock on the door hesitantly. I wait for a few seconds, yet it feels like an eternity, before the door is swung open.

“Found my note I see!” he exclaims, standing in the doorway with a huge grin lighting up his face. I smile back, trying to look as confident as he did.

“Here I brought you this” I reply, showing him my bag. I take out a small black book and present it to him, “it’s my favourite book, actually I was reading it when you came into the shop, I thought that maybe...” I trail off, embarrassed. I rub the back of my neck, feeling the warmth radiating from my palm. “I just thought maybe you'd find it interesting, I've read it so many times I practically know it off my heart” I laugh quietly, quickly glancing up at him “sorry I'm rambling”

Sirius looks at me, curiosity in his eyes. A small laugh escapes his lips before he turns to me and takes the book. He flips it, seemingly interested before looking back at me and taking a step back, to free the entrance. “Well why don't you come in?” he asks, before marking a pause, “I'm sorry I don't think I caught your name.”

“I'm Remus.” I respond, looking back up at him.

“Remus, that's a nice name.” he comments, his grin never leaving his face “the book seems interesting! I'll be sure to give it a try” I listen to him talk while I walk into his room, which is surprisingly organised. There isn't much, a table with an old laptop on it, two chairs, a bed, which takes up most of the space, a set of drawers, a small window and, in the corner, the art supplies he'd bought the day before. “You can sit here” he tells me, pushing one of the chairs towards me, I take it and sit down, putting my bag down next to it, unsure what to do next, I watch him walk over to the corner and pick up his art supplies.

“What do I need to do?” I ask, my hands still trembling slightly in my lap.

“Nothing, don't worry” he replies “just sit there and relax, there's nothing to be scared of” he addresses a friendly smile at me, pulling up the other chair to face me and setting up his easel in front of it. He takes out a brush and some paint, mixing them on his palette, and starts moving his hand up and down the canvas in big yet careful gestures. As the minutes pass, I start to feel more relaxed, watching his movements getting smaller and slower. “So, tell me a bit about yourself” he says, his eyes not moving from the canvas.

“Hmm oh well my life isn't very interesting. I grew up here with my parents, they're both gone now. I work in an art shop, as you know, I really like reading and I don't know what else to tell you…” I answer, thinking that my life must be too boring for him.

“That sounds interesting to me, you must know the surroundings pretty well then! Maybe you could show me around a little, I've been here for a few months but I still manage to get lost sometimes.” he tells me, chuckling.

“I'd love to, but only if you show me how to paint” I reply, nodding happily. As the minutes turn into hours and his painting progresses, we keep talking, about everything and nothing. It felt easy to talk to him, no not easy, right. Soon enough, I knew him like he'd been my friend for years. While we talk, his eyes tend to stay on the painting but sometimes they glide over to me, snapping back to the painting seconds later. In what felt like a short period of time, yet was a few hours, the painting was finished.

“Are you ready? If I'm honest, I'm a little nervous but if it's bad, blame it on the fact I couldn't paint for the past few months.” he admitted with a nervous chuckle, grabbing the canvas and hesitantly turning it towards me.

‘wow’

That's it. That's the only thought that went through my head as my eyes met themselves on the canvas. It's so beautiful and…

“Well? What do you think?” he urges nervously. I suddenly notice his hands trembling slightly and his eyes watching me intensely. He always seems so confident, yet I can see the fear in his eyes now.

“It's so… It's stunning… I'm speechless” I reply, looking him in the eyes quickly before turning back to the painting. The painting looked so realistic, my light curly brown hair and pale green eyes standing out against my pale skin, there is only one alteration. Instead of the freckles that normally sprinkle my face, are little stars. They're beautiful, shining like the stars I can now see from the window.

“Your freckles, they're beautiful, they look like the stars in the night sky. I thought I should paint them as such… They're like little beacons of hope and friendship, when I walked into that shop, I never thought I'd make a new friend, and well, thank you for giving me hope.” Sirius looks at me, his eyes sparkling with the same hope he was talking off. As I look at him, straight into his eyes, I feel a smile reach my lips, knowing my eyes have the same sparkle in them. And as our eyes dig deeper into one another, as we share a smile of happiness of who we found, the minutes slow, as though this moment was frozen in time, which I wish could be the case. Suddenly, we both break eye contact, as though embarrassed by the connection we'd both felt in that second. We both look back up to the painting, our eyes meeting again for a second, causing my face to heat a little. I slowly lift myself out of my seat, taking a step towards the painting to get a closer view of the talent etched on the canvas in front of me.

“It's- it's really stunning” I mutter, still speechless, taking yet another step forward. As I slowly edge forward, I notice something, something that had escaped me at first glance, as it usually escapes others' attention. A thin scar, tracing along the bridge of my freckled nose. Freckles which usually hide it, making it hardly noticeable, especially at first glance. A scar that had been given to me when I was only five, by an overexcited grey dog at the park. It's claw had scratched against the skin of my nose, after it had ambushed me. It had left me with a gash, one that never properly healed and could now be observed under the shape of a scar. This scar. The one he had noticed, when no one else had.

“You got my scar” I whisper in amazement. I slowly reach out to touch it, feeling like all that matters now, is this single detail. A small detail yet seeing it there had given me hope. At the last second, I pull my arm back, like an instinct, and, remembering the paint is still wet, I drop my hand to my side.

“Of course I got it, how could I miss it?” as his voice reaches my ears, I glance to my left to find him standing next to me, admiring the same spot as I was. Him. The man who, right now, felt like a dream come true. We both turn to face one another at the same second, almost as though we're in tune with one another. I find myself getting lost in his stormy grey eyes again, knowing that he was looking straight back into my emerald green ones. For a moment, there's no movement, we both stand there in silence, our eyes sparkling at each other, knowing that this is right. A shadow suddenly masks one of his eyes and I understand that a lock of his hair escaped his small bun. I watch it sway slightly before I instinctively take a step forward, closing what little distance is left between us, and reach out. I mark a pause, waiting to see if he'll reject the movement, but nothing happens. Carefully, I grab the small lock of hair and delicately brush it behind his ear.

As I hesitantly move my hand away, Sirius lets out a low throaty laugh, and I suddenly feel compelled to do something I'd never dreamed of. Instead of pulling my hand back, I instinctively slide it down to the back of his neck, cradling it carefully in my hand, and lean forward, closing the distance between us centimetre after centimetre until we collide. It was a short kiss but our movements were coordinated perfectly.

We pull away, almost reluctantly, and I watch his face quickly turn a deep crimson, knowing mine isn’t much better. I watch his eyes, like two storms lost in the middle of all this redness.

“That was… something” my eyes move down, as I utter these two words, as though expecting them to close the distance again. Our faces were still within centimetres of one another, making me struggle not to kiss them again.

“Something utterly spectacular” Sirius laughs breathlessly, intensifying my impulse to lean in again.

The room falls silent again, as I continue to watch the slight quiver on his lips. The only disturbance in the otherwise perfect silence is the sound of light rain splashing against the window and pavement along with our shallow breathing.

For a long while, we stand there, gazing quietly into each other's eyes, not uttering a single word, yet I feel complete, everything I need is right here, in front of me. This man, who has the most luscious hair, elegance and grace radiating from his unpolished appearance, a mischievous yet friendly glint in his eye, who is staring up at me with those mercury eyes.

And in that second, I feel certain that this is where I belong. That being with Sirius is right.

[tinymilkshakecheesecake]

Blind Date - Cale Makar

This was partially inspired for Devon’s love of complimenting Cale on social media

Word Count - 1.6k

Cale knew he was running late.  The latest mindset book he was reading caught his attention and he didn’t realize it was time to leave until he was already going to be late.  He has no idea why he agreed to this.  “Devon wants me to go out more, but this is getting ridiculous,” he thinks.  Devon and his wife have a neighbor who also apparently needs to get out more and the two of them thought Cale and this mystery person will be attached at the hip afterwards and convinced or bullied (he’s not sure which) Cale into this.  He changes out of joggers, putting on better pants as he receives another text from Devon.  Devon has been repeatedly reminding Cale of the “date” they had arranged to make sure he doesn’t bail.  He puts on his shoes before grabbing his keys and wallet before running out the door, pausing only briefly to check the door.

He heads out of the elevator and pulls up the directions on his phone.  They set them up in a diner that was a short walking distance away from his building.  Not bothering to drive, he leaves the building, heading in the general direction of the diner.  Devon thinks he’ll be safe with the baseball game having already started and the quiet nature of the diner, but Cale isn’t completely convinced.  Devon texts him again, probably reminding him of his “date” to make sure he doesn’t leave the poor girl stranded.  He sees the diner and stops in front of it sighing before running a hand through his hair, a poor attempt to fix the messy strands.  “I really should have taken more time to get ready,” he thinks as nervous energy fills his stomach, unusual for him.  He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself before entering.

---

KJ looks up as the door opens.  A boy approximately her age walks in, waiting patiently for the hostess to greet him.  Sighing, she drops her gaze back to her phone in hopes Kerry or even Devon texts her back with any updates on the guy.  He was ten minutes late at this point and Kerry was getting slower in her responses to her messages.  Glancing back up she sees the hostess leading the guy to her table.  She places her phone away as he approaches, giving him a shot even if he was ten minutes late at this point, noting his red cheeks.

As he pulls out the chair he begins to speak, “Hi.  I’m Cale.  I am so sorry I’m late.  I got caught up in a book and lost track of time.”

“Oh.  It’s okay.  It happens.  I’m KJ by the way.  What book?” KJ asks, surprising herself with her response.

His eyes widen, “Oh, um it's called, Zen Putting, by Bob Rotella. It helps with mindfulness and focusing on the process rather than the result.”

“Do you golf much?” She asks.

“Mainly in the summer, not much now.  Work picks up this time of year but the concepts talked about are applicable to other things.”

“That’s cool.  Have you read a lot of books on mindfulness?”

“Ya.  Actually my dad is really big into mindset and he introduced it to me when I was fourteen.  It helped me a lot and is something I still work on.”  She watches the way he speaks, sometimes almost stumbling over his words but shows interest in it.  They continue talking about anything that comes to mind until his voice begins to show signs of breaking as the waitress appears.

---

Cale looks up as the waitress approaches.  Quickly glancing at the menu, he finds something that is loosely diet approved and would work.  As KJ orders, he finds himself looking her over.  He notices the way she responds to the waitress, eyes kind as she talks to the waitress.  Once they’re done, they resume talking.

“What made you come to Denver?” He asks.

“Oh, they had a good collections program and was interested in that,” she replies.

“Wait really, like museum stuff?”

“Sometimes.  It depends on where because a lot of universities might not have museums but will have collections from other things.”

“That's cool,” he replies.  Their food comes and they continue to talk throughout their meal.  They have a relaxed discussion and Cale really enjoys himself as he notices himself relaxing more throughout the conversation.  Cale excuses himself to use the bathroom.

---

KJ watches the waitress come while Cale, dropping off the check.  She handed her her credit card opting to cover the bill.  Smiling, the waitress takes the card and leaves.  Cale returns as the waitress drops off the card

“Hey, I was going to cover that,” he says once the waitress leaves.

“Too bad,” KJ replies with a smirk, “you can get the next one.”

“Oh, I see how it is.  You expect to see me again?” he replies.  He folds his lips to bite back a smirk but fails.  “Do you want to walk around the park for a bit?”

“Sure,” KJ replies as she grabs her phone before standing, letting Cale take the lead, following him out of the restaurant.  Following him out she reflects on the past hour and a half talking to Cale.  She enjoyed herself and the conversation never seemed to get dull.  She also noticed that he got more relaxed with hints of a canadian accent sneaking out but his cheeks always remained pink.  

The sidewalk widens and Cale pauses for a second to let KJ catch up.  They resume talking.  As before, the conversation flowed and their strides match perfectly.  KJ feels relaxed as they walk by an avs poster featuring Cale.  

---

Cale tenses up when he sees the poster, not expecting there to be posters up of him yet.  

“Did you come this way to see your face,” she jokes.

Cale turns even more red than usual.  “Oh god,” he mumbles.  “I forget how soon posters will go up sometimes and didn’t realize it was that time yet.  It does get annoying to see your face everywhere in case you’re wondering,” he relies with a soft smile.

“I bet,” KJ replies, “I was on the performing arts council in high school and had my face on a banner outside the school for months to help fundraise.  It was horrible.”

Laughing, Cale leads the way to a secluded overlook within the park he frequently visits.  He checks in with himself and notices how comfortable he feels.  Maybe Devon was right, but he doesn’t need to tell him that.  Walking up to the overlook, Cale notices the sky beginning to turn colors.  They walk up to the fence and Cale decides to take a half step closer to KJ, moving into her personal space.  Looking up, She catches his eye and moves closer, allowing him to tuck her into his side as they watch the sunset.  Cale feels himself relax more, allowing himself to enjoy the contact and the view as the sun sets.  

When the sun dips below the horizon, Cale pulls back as he bites back a yawn.  He has training camp again tomorrow and knows he should call it a night soon.  “Hey, where’d you park,” he asks, knowing Devon lived a fair distance away.

“Oh, I took the train,” She replies.

“Oh, I can drive you home if you want,” he offers.

“I can take the train.  It's actually probably easier, especially because you’re tired.”

Cale blushes, “Here, let me atleast walk you to the station.  Is union station the one you’re using?”

“Ya, that's probably easiest.”

“You’ll text me when you get home right?”

“Um, if I get your number I will,” she chimes back at him, causing him to pull out his phone.

“Oh shit. Um, here,” he says as they exchange phones, Cale fighting back another blush.

They return their phones and head back, this time taking the longer path.  They walk in a comfortable silence through the mostly quiet park, passing a few dog owners and couples along the way and exchanging small smiles as they pass.  Once they return back to the buildings, their pace picks up as they return to the normal chaos of the city.  

---

They make their way to the station both lost in thought.  They walk side by side, each in their personal space, but neither one is uncomfortable with that.  They slow down once the station’s sign becomes visible, wanting to savor their last few minutes together.  

They reach the entrance and Cale turns to face KJ, opting to pull her into a hug.  “Text me when you get home, yeah?” he murmurs into her ear.  

His deep voice causes her to shiver slightly.  She nods, inhaling his scent for the first time before pulling away.  They say their goodbyes for the time being.  Cale watches her walk into the station.  He waits a few seconds before heading to his building. He decides to take the stairs, climbing up the flights to pass the time.  He gets to his floor, checking his phone for any missed messages from KJ.  Devon texts him again, probably annoyed at the lack of response.  Ignoring that, he gets ready for bed, replacing his contacts with glasses and packs what he’ll need for tomorrow to kill time. He hears his phone chime and he races across the room to get it, seeing a text message appear. Unlocking his phone, he sees a message from KJ.

Kj: home [insert picture of the inside of a door]

Cale: ty. Let’s meet up again soon. I’ll cover dinner this time

Kj: 👍

Cale smiles as he heads to his bedroom, turning off lights along the way before crawling into bed and placing his glasses on the nightstand and falling asleep.

[craby-bouquet]

Prince Minyun {CH}

~part 3~

Lee Jihoon x Reader

Romance, Royal!AU, Teacher!AU

3k words

Masterlist | SVT Masterlist | CH Masterlist

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3 | Pt.4

You were reading a book in your room, when, a quarter to one, someone knocked on your door. You frowned, you knew someone was picking you up, but would they really come this early?

You opened the door and looked right into the face of Dominick.

"Yo." He greeted.

You shifted your weight to one of your feet "Hi. I'm sorry, I can't hang out or anything, I'm about to get picked up by someone."

To your surprise he laughed "I know. I'm here to pick you up, miss."

Your eyes widened "You're the one to pick me up?"

"You sound like you think I'm too incompetent for such a task."

"Of course that's not what I think, I just- I hadn't expected you…" You looked at your feet, flustered. Why?

He chuckled "Is that a blush I spot on your cheeks?"

You frowned, blush only getting worse "No."

He was enjoying himself a little too much.

"Anyway," You got yourself together "I was told someone would pick me up at one, so I'm afraid I'm not quite ready to go yet."

"Someone would pick you up around one, yes. This is around. We have to be there at one. Anyway, get ready then." He waved you away.

You turned around to get some pens and paper, for notes and whatever else you would need them for. You had realised before that you had no idea what you were expected to do, you had no schedule for the year nor information on what the prince had already learned from other teachers. You couldn't imagine the seven year old prince not getting any lessons until now. You had hoped to get a schedule or anything from whomever came to pick you up. You decided to ask him about it on your way there.

"So, what are you gonna do with him today?" Dominick asked, "Are you gonna bombard him with maths on your first day, or do you want him to like you?"

You closed your door and locked it “That’s actually what I kind of wanted to ask you… Do you know whether I’m going to get some sort of schedule? Or at least a brief update on what the prince has learned before?”

Dominick took a deep breath, thinking, “Ooh, I don’t know I’m afraid. That would be up to either master Kwan, or the crown prince himself. I don’t go over that, and they didn’t hand me anything for you, so…”

You nodded “Alright, thanks.”

He laughed “Master Kwan is busy now, but don’t worry that’s gonna be over the day after tomorrow.”

You chuckled with him “We’ll see. I got the feeling he isn’t really the type to… relax.”

He gasped dramatically, “I’ve been saying he’s due for a spa day! But he doesn’t agree.”

You paid good attention to the way you walked, hoping you could walk it yourself some day. It was complicated though, you were surprised he could find his way through the maze that were the hallways.

You stopped in front of a wide hall, it looked a bit fancier than the rest of the hallways. More expensive paintings, bigger plants, and even more gorgeous chandeliers.

“We’re stopping here real quick, because I’m supposed to tell you you’re not allowed here. These are the royal quarters, and as a member of staff, you’re only allowed here with an okay from the queen herself.”

You looked from him, back to the hall. It felt weird, knowing how close you were to the prince. You never imagined being here, so close to the bedrooms of the royal families.

“Anyway,” Dominick turned around again, “We’re almost there.”

After you walked back a little bit, Dominick knocked on a door.

“Yes.” a voice from the other side said.

He pushed the door open, revealing a charming room. It wasn’t super big, but it wasn’t particularly small either. One wall was a bookcase, filled with all kinds of books. On a little cabinet, there was a decorative earth boll together with maps, and other kinds of miscellaneous things to learn from. Most of the room was taken in by a big table, however. Multiple chairs surrounded it, two of them were occupied at this moment. By the young prince, and his brother, crown prince Jihoon.

The moment prince Jihoon and your eyes met he realised who you were, the girl he bumped into this morning. He stood up, his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"You must be the new teacher." He didn't ask it, it was more of a statement.

You bowed, "Yes, your highness."

He didn't say anything else, just sighed and whispered some sort of goodbye to his brother before walking to the door. He stopped right in front of you, way too close. Just looked at you a little while before walking away.

"Hello little highness." Dominick greeted prince Minyun.

The prince smiled "Hey Dominick, are you here to play?"

Dominick laughed "Not today, highness. I'm here to bring someone to you, but we can play this weekend."

The young prince sighed "But that's two more days!"

Dominick nodded "That is true, yes. But you have to learn things today. Anyway, I have to go."

He bowed to the prince and winked at you before walking out.

You turned to the prince, who was inspecting you with his eyes, and bowed, "It's a pleasure to meet you, your highness."

The prince sighed "I don't want to learn things…"

You chuckled, you couldn't count all the children who had told you that before. And you always had the same response.

"But then you won't know anything, and you need to learn for your future."

He pouted "But the future is so far away. Can't I learn later? I want to play now."

You say down in the chair beside him, still warm from when his brother sat there, "What if we learn now, and play later? We can always make learning fun."

He looked up at you, frowning "You can?"

You nodded "Sure! We can turn learning into games. But today, since it's our first lesson and we have such little time, I thought we could get to know each other. So tell me, what do you like to do? What's your least favorite thing to do? What are your favorite and least favorite subjects? What would you like to learn?"

His nose scrunched up as he thought. You got your notebook to write everything he'd say down.

"I like playing outside. Oh, and the piano, the teacher before you started teaching me how to play and I really like it. I don't like maths and cleaning my room. The cleaning people are supposed to do that for me but my mom says doing it myself will teach me discipline. But it sucks. My favorite subject is art and music and I hate maths."

You smiled as you wrote down what he just told you, smiled to yourself “I’m guessing you don’t really like maths, your highness.”

He shook his head, making a disgusted face.

“See, now I can keep that in mind in future lessons.” You tapped your notebook with your pen and smiled up at the little prince.

He was quite a lot younger than his brother, but you could see such a resemblance. Their eyes were almost identical, though prince Jihoon’s eyes stood a lot sterner. It was clear they were brothers, just by looking at them.

“So… Now you won’t teach me maths?” he glanced at you from the side, his expression made you laugh.

“I’m sorry, your highness, I’m afraid I have to teach you maths.”

That made him pout.

“But, before we start anything, let’s introduce ourselves. Have you been taught how to introduce yourself in a polite and formal manner?” You got up, and he followed your example.

“Yes, I have! Do you want to see?” He smiled excitedly.

“Please, highness.”

He cleared his throat and straightened his face, he looked adorable, trying to seem formal.

“How do you do, fair maiden? I am prince Minyun Lee, second prince of Aphate. It is an honor to make you acqainktents.” He took your hand, and kissed the top of it.

You chuckled, “Very good, I think…” This is not how you learned to formally introduce yourself, “I just think you meant: ‘It is an honor to make your acquaintance.’ But, that is a very difficult word.”

He nodded, pouting again “It is! Being a formal prince is very hard.”

“I can imagine, highness.” you made an extra serious face.

“Now you respond back to me.” He pointed his finger in a stern and commanding way.

You curtsied “As you wish, your majesty.”

You cleared your throat in a similar fashion as he did before his introduction, “The honor is mine, your highness, royal prince Minyun.” and proceeded it with your name, as you bowed deeply.

He started laughing loudly, holding his belly, “That sounds so funny! You speak funny!”

You laughed too, his laugh was very infectious.

“Who taught you to introduce yourself like that?” you asked, still laughing.

“Dominick, he’s my friend.”

Of course. That explained a lot.

The both of you sat down again, and strangely enough your mind immediately calmed down a little bit. You were glad the prince seemed to like you already, you hadn’t realised it, but apparently you had been worried about that.

“So, prince Minyun. What might I call you? Is ‘prince Minyun’ okay? Or would you perhaps prever ‘your highness’? Or something else?” you figure with this, asking him would be the best way to go. He was seven, even if this question was considered rude to ask a royal, he wouldn’t know that. And you wanted to make sure he was comfortable with what you called him.

His hand went to his chin, in a similar way you had seen prince Jihoon do yesterday, as he thought about that.

“Hm, I guess ‘prince Minyun’ is fine. But…” he sighed, clearly thinking hard, “Dominick calls me ‘little highness’ and I like him saying that, I don’t know if I’d like you saying that. But I like you, so… maybe…”

You nodded understandingly, getting the dilemma, “Maybe I should try calling you that once, and you can see if you like it or not?”

His nose scrunched as he nodded “Yeah… that sounds like a good idea.”

You sat up, straightening your back and clearing your throat, knowing this was important to him, and wanting to show you you respected that, “Little highness.”

He turned his eyes up, thinking about it, “Can… can you maybe say it again, but a little bit slower?”

“Sure.” you suppressed an adoring smile, “Little highness…”

He nodded, still a very thoughtful look on face, “Yes… I like it.”

That made you smile, “Good, then from now on I will call you ‘little highness’, too.”

He nodded again, smiling brightly this time.

You took your notebook and pen in hand again, realising work still had to be done. You were enjoying your bonding time with the little prince, but school was the whole reason why you were here. Maybe you could spend some fun time with him during the weekend, you caught on that Dominick sometimes hung out with the prince, maybe you could join them some time.

“Let’s continue, little highness.”

He let his shoulders hang, but you could still see a smile on his lips “Alright…”

You had continued asking him questions for a while now, you had nothing prepared so you just made them up as you went along, but you had learned an awful lot about prince Minyun so far. One thing you learned was that he really loved, and looked up to, his brother. He also really loved learning the piano, which, since his previous teacher had left, prince Jihoon had been helping him with.

You also learned, the boy had a very limited concentration span. But you knew you could work with that. In the past, you’d had many children who just couldn’t pay attention for too long. Sometimes you’d wished you could give them lessons one on one, knowing that would help them in their learning process. But since you couldn’t, you had to find other ways around it. And you had found many. All that was left now, well, in the span of the next few weeks, was to find out which were good for the prince and which weren’t.

After a while, you realised you’d really been asking him things for too long, his head was laying on the table, and he was picking at his nails in a bored manner.

So you put down your pen, and turned to directly face him, “Alright, that was it little highness.”

He lifted his head, looking hopeful, “Really?”

You nodded “Yep, on my part at least.”

He frowned, but you had him interested again.

“You see, I’ve now learned so much about you, but you still don’t know anything about me. So, would you like to ask me questions? Now’s your chance, highness.”

That got him very excited, he sat up straight again, “Okay!”

“Shoot.”

“What is your favorite class?”

That was an easy one, “I love biology, it’s always been my favorite.”

Especially the chapters about behavior, not only did that teach you about animals, it made you understand more about human behavior, too. It helped you a lot in your work as a teacher.

“Biology, really? Ew.”

You gasped dramatically “What ‘ew’? Why is it ‘ew’?”

He frowned “Biology is about all kinds of yucky things like blood and broken bones and stuff.”

“Well, you got a point.”

“Yes. I do.”

That made you chuckle.

“Next question,” It was so funny to you, how seriously he took this, “What is your least favorite class?”

You were expecting this one. You widened your eyes, looking around you as if it were a secret, bowed yourself more to him and whispered: “Maths.”

That made him gasp really loudly, “Maths is so dumb, right?”

You nodded, agreeing with him, “Yes it is.”

“So… what if we just don’t do it?”

That made you want to smile, but you kept it in and clicked your tongue, “I’m afraid we can’t, little highness. It is an unmissable part of your curriculum.”

He frowned “Cur… crruri… Curri… What?”

“It’s something you have to learn in school. Sometimes we don’t want to do things, but we still have to do them. And math is one of them.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Next question?”

He nodded, looking away, suddenly seeming a bit nervous.

“Do you know about the party tonight?” he asked softly.

You nodded, “Yes I do, little highness, it’s your first party, right?”

He nodded again, “Yes. Will you be my date?”

It took a while for that question to sink in. You blinked twice, very slowly.

"Excuse me, what?" You chuckled nervously, not at all sure what to react. Not even sure if he meant it.

"My date." He said matter of factly.

You frowned "What do you mean with 'date', little highness?"

You wanted to know what he meant, maybe he thought it meant something else.

He frowned, thinking hard about how to answer that.

"Well… I don't know how to explain it but I want you to come with me to the party."

You didn't know how to respond to that. Were you even allowed to go? You couldn't just say no and hurt his feelings either…

"At first I wanted to ask Dominick, but then I met you and now I want you to go with me."

"I'm honored, prince Minyun, and I would love to go with you… but I don't know if I'm allowed to… I wasn't invited, and I'm not of an important status..."

He frowned "Are teachers not important?"

"No, no! Teachers are very important." You hurriedly said before he had the chance to consider if education was important, "I mean that I'm not royalty."

He nodded understandingly "But… I'm inviting you. Everyone is taking a date!I don't want to be the only person to not have a date!"

"I'm sure you wouldn't be the only one without a date."

He crossed his arms and pouted angrily "I'm the brother of the birthday boy, I can't show up without a date."

Was that true? Some sort of rule you didn't know about? Oh, why was this today out of all days? You hadn't at all gotten used to anything and you had no clue how anything worked around here. Yes, you were here to please the little prince, but you couldn't just go to a fancy party like that, right?

Then again, you were technically invited by a prince. Wouldn't that count as a formal invitation? You wished you could ask someone else.

He looked up at you, with massive puppy eyes "Please?"

Working with children of his age for years now, had made you immune to the effect that puppy eyes had. After all, every child uses them.

But these were different. Maybe it was just because he was the only child in your class, maybe he was just extra cute, but something about them made it impossible for you to say no.

You smiled kindly "Alright, your majesty, if that is what you want, I will accompany you to the party tonight."

You remembered packing your prom dress before coming here. It seemed kind of strange at the time, but you figured that since you were going to the castle, you might need formal wear for something. That thought didn't seem so silly anymore.

Your answer completely lit up his eyes, a bright smile forming on his face just as the door of the room opened.

"Your highness, I am here to escort you back to your room." A woman you didn't know, but was clearly from the staff, said.

Prince Minyun got up and bowed to you, "I will pick you up at a quarter to eight."

You nodded, "I'm looking forward to it, little highness."

As he walked out the door, you got up and curtsied to him. All the while thinking how fast the time had flown by, and how extremely weird the idea of you going to a royal ball was.

Masterlist | SVT Masterlist | CH Masterlist

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3 | Pt.4

[steverogersbingo]

✨ STEVE ROGER BINGO’S ROUND UP - POST 1 ✨

Check out the fills our participants posted from the first month under the cut!

🎨 ART

heaven isn't in the sky (it's underwater) by agron T // Steve/Tony // Mermaids Summary: when steve went underwater he was discovered by three mermaid tony stark instead

Untitled by ABrighterDarkness G // Steve/Bucky // Alpine Summary: Steve and Bucky get distracted, Alpine enjoys every minute.

Space Stone by AriaFandom G // Gen // Moodboard Summary: Galaxy aesthetic for the space stone

Untitled by sanguineterrain G // Gen Summary: Magical, canon-divergent Steve

Untitled by call-me-kayyyyy G // Steve/Bucky // AU; Fantasy; Loin-cloths Summary: Steve and Bucky are elf's who ride their unicorns to check the perimeter.

Steve Rogers becomes Cernunnos by pinkybitesu T // Gen // AU Summary: Steve had always felt connected to the Earth. Becoming the God of the Forest, Cernunnos, made it all make sense.

"That Is America's Ass." by bleedxblack T // Steve/Bucky Summary: Steve Rogers straddles Bucky's waist with booty shorts that read "it ain't gonna spank himself".

📝 FIC

Clean Up These Bloody Fists by dontcallmebree E // 8,657 // Steve/Bucky // Shrunkyclunks; Mob AU Summary: Bucky can’t decide if Steve’s unendingly generous with his care for those around him, or if Bucky’s simply been lucky enough to scale the wall built up over decades, and had somehow proven himself worthy of the affection. Either way, he knows he’ll never take this for granted. Spend some time with Steve and Bucky this week in the perpetually fluffy ‘verse of Do The Things You Never Showed Nobody.

Scars by Kimberly T // 1,888 // Steve/Bucky // Post-CATWS Summary: The serum means that Steve can't scar anymore, though he's retained his pre-existing scarring. While in the hospital recovering from the fight on the helicarrier, Steve does a little introspection about this. It's bittersweet.

Without Regret by ABrighterDarkness E // 5,284 // Steve/Thor Summary: It had been a very long time since Steve had last felt like this. There was a buzz in his mind and tingling through his body. His movements were just slightly slower, clumsier and his were words spoken a little more loosely with a tongue that felt more weighty than it ought to. Even that, though, felt different than the last time that he’d had the opportunity to overindulge with a friend.

Love and Learning by ABrighterDarkness T // 7,746 // Steve/Natasha Summary: It reminded him, a little bit, of stepping into a machine seeing everything in varying shades of grey. Only to stumble out again into a world of color more vibrant than anything he could have possibly imagined. Overwhelming but entirely breathtaking and welcome.

Good by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier T // 1,062 // Steve/Bucky/Tony Summary: Steve returns to the compound and finds that the two men he loves, but never told his feelings to, are a couple now.

Lie to Me by Kit T // 2,102 // Steve/Bucky // Body Swap Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Steve and Natasha end up trapped in the others body. Instead of telling everybody, they make a bet. Who will be able to conceal their identity the longest?

Dream a Little Dream of Me by buckybleeds E // 5,719 // Steve/Bucky // Dub-con; Self-cest Summary: Steve goes back in time to comfort himself after Bucky fell and ends up having sex with himself. 

Pride by Kit T // 1,726 // Steve/Bucky Summary: Tony wants to take Steve to pride to watch him freak out. Natasha tags along to do damage control.

Take Care of You by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier M // 1,756 // Steve/Bucky // Daddy Kink; Age Difference; AU Summary: Steve has been so busy with his work as a commander at shield lately, that he has barely had time for his partner Bucky. Bucky’s worried his Daddy might not want him anymore and Steve has to rectify this by showing how much he loves his baby.

Love Has Left a Printed Trace by Girl_Back_There E // 1,726 // Steve/Bucky // Vampires; Dub-con Summary: Steve is obsessed with finding a mysterious figure named Winter in paintings throughout the years. James is a Vampire named Winter charged with keeping Vampires a secret from humanity.

with the weight of the world at the tips of my fingers by avintagekiss24 E // 4,420 // Steve/Reader // AU Summary: You and Steve share a morning in bed.

Always You by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier M // 1,691 // Steve/Bucky // AU Summary: After a year of traveling, Steve finally comes home and confesses his feelings to Bucky.

Stop the World by Rex E // 6,828 // Steve/Scott // AU Summary: When Steve got hired to entertain at Cassie Lang's thirteenth birthday party, he had thought it was going to be like every other kid's party he'd booked. He'd show up, play Captain America, get paid, and go home. He never quite gets to that last step, but to be fair, there was no way he could have anticipated the draw of Scott Lang.

Always by Rex G // 437 // Steve/Matt Murdock // Canon Divergence Summary: Even the Devil of Hell's Kitchen needs an angel from time to time. This one just happens to be from Brooklyn.

Glass by Rex M // 859 // Gen // Non-graphic torture; Implied non-con; Referenced suicide Summary: "We'll lose." "Then we'll do that together, too." Sokovia crashed, Ultron won, and he always had hated Tony the most.

We are already home by Bitters E // 4,948 // Steve/Bucky Summary: Steve carries an injured Bucky through a portal into…somewhere else? But they’re together, like they always have been, and that’s all that matters.

end of the line, time to go home. by moonythejedi394 M // 3,484 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence; Daddy Kink; Age Play/Regression Summary: Steve and Bucky always said they were together 'til the end of the line. But even they have to get off the train eventually. Everybody always figures, at the end of the line is... Y'know. The End. But actually, at the end of the line is happily ever after. It just took them a few decades and a couple suitcases of trauma to get there.

Not Technically A Bromance by dontcallmebree M // 8,657 // Steve/Bucky Summary: “A bromance?” Bruce asks, voice tinged with restrained laughter. “Yeah, we have one of those.” Steve glowers at Bruce, who’s patently laughing at him, eyes bright and twinkling with mirth. Bruce composes himself, biting at his bottom lip. “And you’ve had sex how many times?” (Inspired by that tweet, you know the one.)

At the Top of My Lungs by ralsbecket T // 1,646 // Steve/Tony Summary: Two months had passed since Tony had lost his life; since they had laid him to rest six feet under. It was two months of trying to keep his world from further falling apart, and it wasn’t really working in his favor. So, no. No, he wasn’t okay.

Thor’s Art Class for the Heroes of Midgard by WinterSabbath T // 6,338 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: In which Thor makes it his mission to help mend the broken, cold relationship between Steven and James through the only way he can think of: Art class. As a bonus, he also helps the team loosen up.

So Let It Happen by Bitters E // 2,287 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: Steve comes home from a tough mission and needs to get out of his head. His husband and retired Avenger is only too happy to help him with this.

Made of Glass (The Way You See Through Me) by ralsbecket T // 1,132 // Steve/Tony // AU Summary: Steve wasn’t sure what came over him when the model walked out from the back room, wearing a robe; from the moment his eyes landed on his face, he was just… awestruck. Dark hair, bright eyes, full lips. He was fucking beautiful. Or, the one where Tony is the model in Steve's life-drawing class.

for your cooperation by xceru E // 3,145 // Steve/Nat // Canon Divergence Summary: Hydra kidnaps Natasha on a routine mission in Cairo. When Steve finds her, Natasha decides that it's his turn to play prisoner.

my heart in the still winter air by xceru E // 11,887 // Steve/Bucky/Nat // Canon Divergence Summary: “He will,” Steve says, and suddenly Natasha understands. This is the man that Steve altered his heart for, the one he thought only the serum could love. But now Steve knows better—he knows he’s bisexual—he knows his love is real, and the man that it belongs to is undead.

Won't Let Go by afalsebravado E // 2,358 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: Steve is on the hunt for the Winter Sold-- Bucky. He's on the hunt for Bucky when the leads dry up and he heads home to regroup. But a package from Tony Stark arrives on his doorstep and makes him re-evaluate old promises.

The Truth of Who I Am by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier T // 1,203 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: Steve Rogers is not a cis straight man and he is tired of people erasing that and other parts of his identity so he fits into the image they already had of him.

Bruise of a Rose by marvelousmoons G // 1,710 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: It’s moments like this that get under his skin the most. The way Steve can just… be Steve. Be dramatic and give Bucky the cold shoulder for simply caring. But Bucky was stronger. He could play Steve’s game. He wouldn’t cave, no. He would sit and wait for the silence to overwhelm Steve first.

... And all I got was this lousy t-shirt by RainbowNerds M // 3,126 // Steve/Bucky // AU Summary: A month ago, Steve had the best sex of his life with a guy he met in a bar, and went home with the most hideous shirt he'd ever seen but no phone number. Enter his new roommate, Becca. The two instances are not connected, right?

Love you too, jerk by WinterRaven G // 636 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence; Fanart included Summary: Steve makes breakfast for Bucky and their 'kids' help him wake up his husband.

[solitarystudies]

Book Club Review: This is How You Lose the Time War

What did you think of the book? What were the things you enjoyed and the things you didn’t enjoy?

After too much thinking I’ve decided that reading TIHYLTTW was like watching an artsy film--the kind that has crazy high critic reviews but an unimpressive audience rating. Unlike flashy hollywood movies, these films tend to be a lot slower and their creators aren’t trying to entertain--they’re making a work of art. There’s so much attention to small details and every shot or angle or pause seems intentional. 

TIHYLTTW felt a lot like that. It was very much a work of art, from the detailed prose, to the unusual format, to the intensity of the letters. While reading the book, I was very aware that it wasn’t written to entertain or please the reader, it was written for its own sake--to create something new and different. 

While reading the book, I admired the writers’ creativity and boldness and imagination. But I was never immersed in the story itself. Because athough the writing was beautiful, it required careful and slow reading (I remember watching the estimated reading time on my kindle jump from 3 hours to 7😭). And even with patient reading, I could appreciate the crafting of the metaphors and images but was never really moved or touched by them. Red and Blue felt like mere ideas and not real people that I could empathize with or relate to. My inability to visualize things is partly to blame, and my unfamiliarity with sci-fi probably made things worse. 

Did any quotes or passages stand out to you? What where they and why?

I went through the highlights on my kindle and there were a lot more than I remembered! Here are a select few:

“Instead of building a hermitage, he fell in love! Made glorious music with his fellow, travelled widely, drew tears from an emperor, melted her hard heart, bumped history out of one groove and into another.”

This one makes me think of how much potential we humans have. How valuable one life can be, how it can reshape history. Also, isn’t it so sweet that he found love and music and happiness? 

“PS. The keyboard’s coated with slow-acting contact poison. You’ll be dead in an hour. 

PPS. Just kidding! Or . . . am I? 

PPPS. I’m just screwing with you. But postscripts sure are fun!”

Red the prankster! 

“Who can speak of what Blue thinks on a mission, when missions are often whole lives, when the story spun for her to wield a hunter’s hook is years in the making? So many roles, dresses, parties, trousers, intimacies rolled into grasping a berth and bundling into shapeless clothes to keep Newfoundland’s winter at bay."

When I say the book had a lot of beauty, this sort of thing is what I mean. The idea that these agents go back in time and live entire lifetimes, is gorgeous! They get to see and shape human history, in all times and all places. For them, the past isn’t something stiff and unchanging, it’s theirs to play with and mould. 

Both authors have written many short stories, but this is their first novel. [Edit, Gladstone has written novels before, but it is El Mohtar’s first full-length novel]. While reading the book, were you able to sense the influence from short fiction?

After reading I looked into some of the writers’ short stories, and I have to say that the styles of writing are completely different to that in the book. I’d actually come across one of Gladstone’s stories before reading this book, but they are so dissimilar that it hadn’t occurred to me they were written by the same guy. So in that sense, not really. 

But in another sense, each chapter of the book felt like its own story; the writers would introduce an entirely new setting, build a scene of what happening there, and come up with a way for the letter to be delivered. 

Of all the letters, which was your favourite? Why is that?

I’m tempted to piss everyone off and say that this is my favorite:

And to be fair, that was the only letter to make me emotional. But, going through my notes, it turns out that Red’s letter about Atlantis is actually my favourite. It was the only time I felt that I could relate to the characters in the story. Here’s an excerpt from it:

So I left my pod and wandered upthread and far away, far from the chatter and the mutual observation. I found a hilltop on a small world, breathable but barren, and I stood there like Socrates in the comic book, lost in thought, weight on one foot, and I did not move. 

The sun set. The stars rose. (They are a rose, right? Or something? Dante said that.) I realized that as my ears grew used to the silence, I could still hear the others: Our chatter swarmed the heavens; our voices echoed from the stars [...]

I was the only person on that tiny rock, and I made the world go dark. Wind blows. High places grow cold at night. Sharp rocks hurt my feet. For the first time in thirteen years I was alone. I, whatever I was, whatever I am, tumbled first up, into the stars, then down to the broken land.

[velvetdestroya]

A Vigil, On Birds and Glass. I woke up this morning still dreaming, or not fully aware of myself just yet. The sun poked through the windows, touching my face, and then a deep sadness overcame me, immediately, bringing me to life and realization- My Chemical Romance had ended. I walked downstairs to do the only thing I could think of to regain composure- I made coffee. As the drip began, in that kind of silence that only happens in the morning, and being the only one awake, I stepped outside my home, leaving the door open behind me. I looked around and began to breathe. Things looked to be about the same- a beautiful day. As I turned to step back into the house I heard sound from within, a chirp and a rustle. And I noticed a small brown bird had flown into the library. Naturally, I panicked. I knew I had to see the bird to safety and I knew I had to retain the order of things in our home, and he very well couldn’t take up residency with us. I chased him (still assuming he was a he) into my office, where I have these very large windows. Just then, and luckily, I heard Lindsey’s footsteps coming down the stairs, and naturally being composed as she is, she grabbed a blanket and stepped into the office. He was impossible to catch, and I began to open the windows, via Lindsey’s direction, only to find out they were screened. The bird began to fly into the glass, over and over and in all different directions. Smack. Smack. Smack! I heard another set of footsteps, Bandit’s, running down the stairs in anticipation of the new day. Her entrance into the situation caused just the right amount of chaos (she was very excited to meet the bird) and we found ourselves chasing the bird into the living room. Knowing that this where it could potentially get sticky, being the high ceilings and the beams to perch on, I opened the front door as Lindsey did her best to encourage our new friend out the door. After some coaxing, flying, chirping, a wrong turn back into the library and a short goodbye to Bandit, he simply hopped out the front door- taking off on the fifth leap. We cheered. I was no longer sad. I didn’t realize it, but I stopped being sad the minute that bird had come into my life, because there was something that needed doing, a small vessel to aid and an order to keep. I closed the door. I decided to write the letter I always knew I would. It is often my nature to be abstract, hidden in plain sight, or nowhere at all. I have always felt that the art I have made (alone or with friends) contains all of my intent when executed properly, and thus, no explanation required. It is simply not in my nature to excuse, explain, or justify any action I have taken as a result of thinking it through with a clear head, and in my truth. I had always felt this situation involving the end of this band would be different, in the eventuality it happened. I would be cryptic in its existence, and open upon its death. The clearest actions come from truth, not obligation. And the truth of the matter is that I love every one of you. So, if this finds you well, and sheds some light on anything, or my personal account and feelings on the matter, then it is out of this love, mutual and shared, not duty. Love. This was always my intent. My Chemical Romance: 2001-2013 We were spectacular. Every show I knew this, every show I felt it with or without external confirmation. There were some clunkers, sometimes our secondhand gear broke, sometimes I had no voice- we were still great. It is this belief that made us who we were, but also many other things, all of them vital- And all of the things that made us great were the very things that were going to end us- Fiction. Friction. Creation. Destruction. Opposition. Aggression. Ambition. Heart. Hate. Courage. Spite. Beauty. Desperation. LOVE. Fear. Glamour. Weakness. Hope. Fatalism. That last one is very important. My Chemical Romance had, built within its core, a fail-safe. A doomsday device, should certain events occur or cease occurring, would detonate. I shared knowledge of this “flaw” within weeks of its inception. Personally, I embraced it because, again, it made us perfect. A perfect machine, beautiful, yet self aware of it’s system. Under directive to terminate before it becomes compromised. To protect the idea- at all costs. This probably sounds like something ripped from the pages of a four-color comic book, and that’s the point. No compromise. No surrender. No fucking shit. To me that’s rock and roll. And I believe in rock and roll. I wasn’t shy about who I said this to, not the press, or a fan, or a relative. It’s in the lyrics, it’s in the banter. I often watched the journalists snicker at mention of it, assuming I was being sensational or melodramatic (in their defense I was most likely dressed as an apocalyptic marching-band leader with a tear-away hospital gown and a face covered in expressionist paint, so fair enough). I’m still not sure if the mechanism worked correctly, because it wasn’t a bang but a much slower process. But still the same result, and still for the same reason- When it’s time, we stop. It is important to understand that for us, the opinion on whether or not it is in fact time does not transmit from the audience. Again, this is to protect the idea for the benefit of the audience. Many a band have waited for external confirmation that it is time to hang it up, via ticket sales, chart positioning, boos and bottles of urine- input that holds no sway for us, and often too late when it comes anyway. You should know it in your being, if you listen to the truth inside you. And voice inside became louder than the music. Now- There are many reasons My Chemical Romance ended. The triggerman is unimportant, as was always the messengers- but the message, again as always, is the important thing. But to reiterate, this is my account, my reasons and my feelings. And I can assure you there was no divorce, argument, failure, accident, villain, or knife in the back that caused this, again this was no one’s fault, and it had been quietly in the works, whether we knew it or not, long before any sensationalism, scandal, or rumor. There wasn’t even a blaze of glory in a hail of bullets… I am backstage in Asbury Park, New Jersey. It is Saturday, May 19th, 2012 and I am pacing behind a massive black curtain that leads to the stage. I feel the breeze from the ocean find its way around me and I look down at my arms, which are covered in fresh gauze due to a losing battle with a heat rash, which had been a mysterious problem in recent months. I am normally not nervous before a show but I am certainly filled with angry butterflies most of the time. This is different- a strange anxiety jetting through me that I can only imagine is the sixth sense one feels before their last moments alive. My pupils have zeroed-out and I have ceased blinking. My body temperature is icy. We get the cue to hit the stage. The show is… good. Not great, not bad, just good. The first thing I notice take me by surprise is not the enormous amount of people in front of us but off to my left- the shore and the vastness of the ocean. Much more blue than I remembered as a boy. The sky is just as vibrant. I perform, semi-automatically, and something is wrong. I am acting. I never act on stage, even when it appears that I am, even when I’m hamming it up or delivering a soliloquy. Suddenly, I have become highly self-aware, almost as if waking from a dream. I began to move faster, more frantic, reckless- trying to shake it off- but all it began to create was silence. The amps, the cheers, all began to fade. All that what left was the voice inside, and I could hear it clearly. It didn’t have to yell- it whispered, and said to me briefly, plainly, and kindly- what it had to say. What it said is between me and the voice. I ignored it, and the following months were full of suffering for me- I hollowed out, stopped listening to music, never picked up a pencil, started slipping into old habits. All of the vibrancy I used to see became de-saturated. Lost. I used to see art or magic in everything, especially the mundane- the ability was buried under wreckage. Slowly, once I had done enough damage to myself, I began to climb out of the hole. Clean. When I made it out, the only thing left inside was the voice, and for the second time in my life, I no longer ignored it- because it was my own. There are many roles for all of us to play in this ending. We can be well-wishers, ill-wishers, sympathizers, vilifiers, comedians, rain clouds, victims- That last one, again, is important. I have never thought myself a victim, nor my comrades, nor the fans- especially not the fans. For us to adopt that role right now would legitimize everything the tabloids have tried to name us. More importantly, it completely misses the point of the band. And then what have we learned? With honor, integrity, closure, and on no one’s terms but our own- the door closes. And another opens- This morning I awoke early. I quickly brushed my teeth, threw on some baggy jeans, and hopped in my car. I gently sped down the 405 through the morning fog to a random parking lot in Palo Verde, where I was to meet a nice gentleman named Norm. He was older, and a self-proclaimed “hippie” but he also had the energy of Sixteen year old in a garage-rock band. The purpose of the meeting was the delivery of an amplifier into my possession. I had recently purchased the amp from him and we both agreed that shipping would jostle the tubes- so he was kind enough to meet me in the middle. A Fender Princeton Amp from 1965, non reverb. A beautiful little device. He showed me the finer points, the speaker, the non-grounded plug, the original label and the chalk mark of the man or woman who built it- “This amp talks.” he said. I smiled. We got coffee, talked about gold-foil pickups and life. We sat in the car and played each other music we had made. We parted ways, promising to stay in touch, I drove home. When I wanted to start My Chemical Romance, I began by sitting in my parent’s basement, picking up an instrument I had long abandoned for the brush- a guitar. It was a 90’s Fender Mexican Stratocaster, Lake Placid Blue, but in my youth I had decided it was too clean and pretty so I beat it up, exposing some of the red paint underneath the blue- the color it was meant to be. Adding a piece of duct tape on the pick guard, it felt acceptable. I plugged this into a baby Crate Amp with built in distortion and began the first chords of Skylines and Turnstiles. I still have that guitar, and it’s sitting next to The Princeton. He has a voice, and I would like to hear what it has to say. In closing, I want to thank every single fan. I have learned from you, maybe more than you think you’ve learned from me. My only regret is that I am awful with names and bad with goodbyes. But I never forget a face, or a feeling- and that is what I have left from all of you. I feel Love. I feel love for you, for our crew, our team, and for every single human being I have shared the band and stage with- Ray. Mikey. Frank. Matt. Bob. James. Todd. Cortez. Tucker. Pete. Michael. Jarrod. Since I am bad with goodbyes. I refuse to let this be one. But I will leave you with one last thing- My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die. It is alive in me, in the guys, and it is alive inside all of you. I always knew that, and I think you did too. Because it is not a band- it is an idea. Love, Gerard

(Source Rock Sound March 25, 2013) [photo credit; ashley bird]

[pulledpurplecurtains]

CREATOR TAG MEME

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

I was tagged by: @chloebeale thank you love <33

okay, so i don’t actually have five works to offer y’all, just three. and i’ll share them from most recent to least recent, because i love all of them, and am also very emotionally attached for different reasons. so here we go

1. Broken Clocks - this is my current WIP, and it’s been laying inactive for a long time. but it is definitely not abandoned. this story came from exhaustive, but oh so fun, mental work and many long hours and careful planning and considering of details between a very special fellow human and i. and it was born because we both love angst and we both love a good roadtrip au and idiots in love. this is a story of mistakes and disconnect and choices with lasting results, more so than my other two. and it’s so special for all the reasons above, and also because the people in it, our girls, are beaten down and bent and tired. and sometimes they think broken as well. but that is not the case.

2. as the time runs out (i don’t wanna wait) - my one and only one shot, written for a special occasion for a friend i love so so dearly. it’s my favorite kind of fic, a post pp3 fix-it. and i was so happy and blessed to be given the opportunity, and the inspiration, to write a fic like this. i’ve never written slower, it feels like, than when i was writing this. so, so careful of every word. it was gonna be just a single chapter, an one shot, and meant for someone. and i wanted to make right by all that, to make it count. and it’s equally special for both the reason it was written and for its content.

3. All is Fair in Love and War - and last but definitely not least. this started as an one shot, which i almost had an anxiety attack about posting, before a very good friend calmed me down and convinced me to post it. and then couple of people had some questions that could be answered in a second chapter and before i knew it. 8 chapters and more than 60k words of a high school AU is what happened. this story is so special to me. is the first ever work i finished, the first full work i wrote in english, it has so many personal feelings and events and thoughts in it, it helped me deal with life and heal whilst writing it, it turned into a wonderful creative challenge. i’m very proud of it, for all the ways it helped me and for all the ways it allowed me to grow, both as a writer and a creator, and as a person. it’s my firstborn and it will always be my baby

all three of my stories have a special place in my heart, each for its own unique, beautiful reasons. just an honorary mention here, to my own book, written in greek and still sitting in hand written manuscripts in my room. i finished it right after my first fic, and without that first fic and this fandom and some of the people in it (y’all know who you are) i never would have

tagging (some people have already been tagged but idc): @snowonebutyou @bechloehuh @snowydot @becasbelt @ninth-on-eight @chloes-yellow-cup @pan-de-queer @aubreys-posen @shaneythealphawolf @tara-draws @sketchywave and any other creator who would like to do this <3

[thejollyroger-writer]

THE WASTELAND - Chapter 5: THE ATHENAEUM // THE CABIN, Part 3

Some triggers: this story is rated TEEN, mostly for violence. It takes place during wartime, and some of the characters go through some violence and torture. If you need more information about this, please just message me!

SUMMARY:  In a world that has been saturated in war for as long as anyone can remember, Emma Swan has rebuilt her life as far away from the chaos as possible, opening her own maternity hospital after spending too many years in makeshift battlefield aid stations. But one night, a bloodied and battered soldier finds her hospital trying to get away from an enemy with a penchant for torture and a personal vendetta against him. With the help of Emma’s childhood friend Prince David and a motley collection of humans and magic-wielders, the quest to save Killian Jones’ life from the poison used by the enemy takes them to places even beyond the known world.

Header and the art for every chapter by the lovely @spartanguard​ – special thanks to @cssns​ for making this monster happen!

Prologue on AO3 // Prologue on Tumblr // Chapter One (ART) // Chapter Two (ART) // Chapter Three (ART) // Chapter Four (ART)

Chapter Five on AO3

ART

// 

The ride from Nephilysis to Prince David’s cabin outside the Northern Mountains takes a day and a half, stopping only when necessary — and most of those hours are completely silent, Mary Margaret, Regina, and Belle with their noses in books and notebooks when they’re not driving, but Emma finds herself unable to concentrate on anything outside of her own mind. 

Emma spends the whole ride — the time it's not her turn to drive — still trying to wrap her mind around everything. By the end of the first day, the only thing she can do to keep herself grounded is text Ruby, filling her in on everything she’s learned at the Athenaeum. 

Or, almost everything; she doesn't know why, but she leaves out the part about Killian. Everything else almost seems believable compared to that, and she thought she would be fine just ignoring it. 

Ruby, of course, is unsurprised by the news of her being a Vis. Everyone around her is unsurprised by the news, apparently. 

You really never knew? she asks. I always just assumed you stayed quiet about it. 

She thought she could handle herself, stay composed when they get to the cabin, when she sees Killian, but she finds herself incorrect. 

Seeing him with this new knowledge, seeing the warm way he smiles at her when she walks into the cabin, is too much for her, and her stomach flips as she turns on her heel to walk back out. 

Mary Margaret says something to cover for her, but her voice is nothing more than buzzing in her ears, and she shuts the door behind her perhaps a little too loudly.

She doesn’t care. She has to get away.  

Pulling her cell phone out of her pocket, she calls Ruby. When she doesn’t pick up the first time, she tries again — not usual for her, but she’s in dire waters here. 

Ruby answers the phone on the fourth ring with a grumble, which Emma ignores. 

"He's my true love," she blurts out. 

"What?" 

"I thought I could — along with everything else, I thought I would just be able to ignore this and just try to save him, but this is different." The words come pouring out of her, trying to keep up with the million miles a minute that has become normal in her brain. 

"Emma, what the hell are you even talking about?" 

Finally, she takes a deep breath, though she can feel her heart pounding in her throat. She tries to make the words come out slower, but by the time she reaches the end of her thought, she’s sped up once more. "Belle told me I'm a Vis, left her duties as Magistra to help train me because we're in a time crunch, but that's not the only thing she told me. There's apparently some sort of prophecy about a Vis and a Fae who don't know how powerful they are until they come together and need to use their powers to save each other. Their powers, and the power of their true love." 

Ruby scoffs. "And they think it's about you? And Killian?" 

"Belle seems to think so. It's apparently from some collection of writing from this Neverland place, one of the only things they've ever been able to decipher completely. Apparently Neverland is one of those places where, once you get there, you don't leave. Or can't. And that's why no one knows anything about it." Her mind is so muddled by it all that she can’t remember what she’s already told Ruby, or what they learned together before she left the hospital, but Ruby seems to understand.  

"But Killian's been there before? And he left?"

"Well, he hasn't shared the whole story with us yet, but I don't think it was a very positive experience for him. David knows more about it than I do, but I think — I’m almost certain at least one person didn’t make it out alive."

"And you guys… have to go back? To cure him from the effects of this poison?" 

"Yeah." 

Ruby lets out a low whistle. "Damn." 

The line is silent, Emma giving Ruby a chance to wrap her head around everything, but it doesn’t take long for her to come up with one of the very questions that has been rattling around Emma’s mind: "So then, because of this true love nonsense, you really are his only hope?" 

Even though Ruby can’t see the way she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, she somehow knows that Ruby knows she is doing it nonetheless. "Yes. What that's supposed to mean I have zero fucking clue, but… yes." 

Another low whistle. “You really have yourself in a predicament there, Swan. Though there could certainly be worse prospects for your True Love.”  

At this moment — of course — Killian steps out onto the porch, and she feels the embarrassment that crept up her cheeks deepen, though the stump she has taken a seat on is still a fair way away from him. 

She laughs, trying not to let the Ruby's right thought take up too much room in her mind as she tries to change the subject. "How is everything going at the hospital? Did you get the replacements?"

"He's there now, isn't he? Either that, or you agree with me."

Ruby always was able to read her like a book, even over the phone, and sees right through Emma's ploy. She smiles. "Yeah. Just answer the question." 

"Emma, come on! Which one!" 

"Both," she says quickly, surprising even herself, trying to hide her smile as she glances quickly at Killian on the back porch; and then, "Now, did you get the replacements?" 

Ruby laughs, and Emma can see the way she tosses back her head, letting it move through her whole body. "I'm almost upset you left me here." 

"I wouldn't trust the place in anyone else's hands, Rubes." She tries to stuff as much sincerity and appreciation in her voice as she can, only hoping Ruby picks up on it from hundreds of miles away. 

If she does, she says nothing, though finally answers the question Emma's been asking, a seriousness to her voice that wasn't there moments before. "Johanna's been here for a few days and Blue just got here this morning. Ashley finally delivered, no issues. We probably would have been okay with just Johanna, but I think Blue is glad to be away from the war for a while."

Emma feels a soft smile curve across her lips. "I understand that completely." 

"Any idea how long you'll be?" 

Out of instinct, Emma turns to the porch again, where Killian is sitting under one of the lit lamps, a few moths flying around over his head. He smiles at her, raising his hand with a wave, which Emma returns. "I don't even know where I'm going." The anxiety of it all washes over her: she really doesn't know where she is going, doesn't know what will be asked of her, between this prophecy and her new knowledge of being a Vis, not to mention this whole true love/saving Killian piece that has to fit in this adventure somehow. "There's a lot about this I'm not sure about, really," she mumbles, talking more to herself than her friend. 

But Ruby answers anyway. "If anyone is capable of succeeding at something like this, it's you, Emma Swan. I've never seen you take on more than you can handle." 

"I appreciate that you have faith in me, but what if this is finally it? What if I've finally gotten myself in too deep?" 

"Then you'll find a way to pull yourself out. You always have, and you always will." 

Emma smiles, trying to instill a little of Ruby's confidence in herself. 

Before she comes up with a response, though, Ruby says, "Now, I gotta go, and I'll let you get back to lover boy—"

"Ruby!" 

"Don't forget to update me from your far-off lands. And be careful."

"I always am."

Emma ends the call, though her eyes stay on her cell phone until after the screen goes dark, searching for the very confidence that Ruby just instilled in her, which seems to have already disappeared. Sliding her phone back into the pocket of her jeans, she wraps her arms around her torso, hugging herself. She forgot about the temperature change this close to the Northern Mountains after spending the last few years in all the same climate, and especially after the warmth of the city, and the chilliness of the dusk air quickly seeps into her as soon as she focuses on it, her skin already cold to the touch. She hopes she remembered to pack a jacket, at least for the next few days in the Northern Mountains — though who knows what the weather in Neverland could be like. 

Neverland. How the hell did she end up in this situation, traveling with a pack of soldiers, the Prince and his betrothed, a sprite council member, and the Magistra to a land they have never heard of? This is just the type of thing that she thought she left behind when she traded in her medic's bars to start her own maternity hospital, needing to live a life far from the death and destruction of the War. What brought her into this mess?

Killian, she reminds herself. Killian Jones, who fought and forced his way out of a prison camp and back to freedom, who lost his hand in the process — only to find his way to her hospital? A man who, against all odds, has a connection to her oldest friend, the Prince of the Gale, and found his way through the rain and the mud and the entire damn war just to end up in her hospital.

Killian. 

A violent shiver forces it's way through her body, shaking her shoulders and her knees. She's cold, much colder than she's been in a while, and knows she should go inside and find warmth, a blanket or a jacket and a nice cup of hot chocolate. 

But she knows what's waiting inside for her: questions and expectations and too many people needing too many things from her. 

When she looks up from her stump, she sees Killian slowly making his way across the yard to her, his leather jacket removed to reveal a dark blue sweater that clings to him in all the right places — no, stop, she tells herself. Don't go there. 

"My apologies if you're trying to have some alone time now, love, but I couldn't help but notice that you're without a jacket, which isn't opportune in this weather."

"Thank you," she says, taking the jacket from his hand and slipping it over her shoulders. The inside is still warm from his body heat, she realizes, remembering that he was wearing it when he stepped out onto the porch. "It's been a while since I've been in weather this cold, not since I used to travel around with David, and I've sort of forgotten that cold even exists." 

He sits beside her on the stump, far enough away that his arm only grazes hers every once in a while, not pressed up against her. "No need to worry, I have some sweaters and jackets here from when I was here last that you can surely borrow for the journey." 

She turns to him, trying her best to offer him a soft smile, though she does find it difficult. "Thanks," she mumbles, then lets out a small self-depreciating laugh. "You can just add that to the list of things I wasn't prepared for when I left home." 

"Yeah, Mary Margaret was saying that you discovered you're a Vis, I can't even imagine that." 

She nods, though her mind is instead on the prophecy. A Vis and a Fae. Though, as far as she's aware, Killian's not a Fae. 

"You don't have any abilities, do you?" she asks, trying to broach the subject gently, though she realizes immediately that she fails. 

He shakes his head. "Liam — my brother — was a dryad, hence the airships. We were never sure about our parents, though. Mum died when I was very little and our father disappeared one day not long after, but neither used any powers that Liam could ever remember." 

If he wants to know why she asked, he keeps it to himself, even as she offers him no response. The silence that settles between them is soft, not thickened by awkwardness or tension, and Emma is thankful for it. It's the first time in hours — days, at least — that her mind is not travelling at top speed, and she seizes the opportunity to take a deep breath, close her eyes for a moment, and focus on the soft sounds of the forest around them. 

"What about you?" he asks after a while, and when she turns to him, she finds him staring at her intently, almost as if he is trying to take in every detail of her. Normally, she would find advances like this overwhelming, almost creepy, but there is something in Killian's eyes — a softness, almost, more of an appreciation than anything else — that seems to calm her, even as he asks questions that bring up her past, something she tries to hide from and avoid as often as possible.

She doesn't feel that here. 

"I never knew my parents," she says calmly, as if it's not the biggest regret of her life. "They gave me away when I was just a few days old. I don't even know their names." 

"I'm sorry, Emma," he whispers, reaching his hand out to take hers. It's the simplest of gestures, his fingers wrapping tenderly around her hand, but it seems to light a spark within her, a warmth that has nothing to do with the jacket and a shiver unconnected to the crisp air. An air of confidence washes over her, bigger and more powerful than the one she felt while on the phone with Ruby, and she lets it wash over her and clean the dust and doubt that hide in her darkest corners. Suddenly, everything about this mission feels attainable: flying in a ship to an unknown land to retrieve the antidote needed to save Killian. It's as simple as that, really, and she feels like nothing can stop them. 

Them. 

Her and Killian. 

Together. 

Everything around him is dark. Dark rocks, dark fields, dark, dark jungle as far as the eye can see. But they’re not in the jungle; in fact, they’re up on a cliff, looking down over it all. It looks so small from up here, the path that’s taken them three days to get through. Up here, he feels like he can see the whole island, though he knows it’s much bigger, since he has actually seen it from above. 

A whole island that no one had ever heard of, that’s been missing from maps and history books simply because… why? Nothing about Neverland is simple, he’s learned. It’s — what word did Pan use? — alive. It’s alive, hidden from maps and books and knowledge because it wants to be. 

Killian turns around to where Liam and Pan are standing beside a large bush, their arguing voices covered by the rushing of the waterfall behind them, but Killian can still tell they are fighting by Liam’s use of his hands. The three of them were the only men to leave the Jewel of the Realm once it took anchor off the shore of the foreign land, so they are alone at the top of the cliff. 

Pan turns away from Liam to face Killian as he approaches them. "I can assure you, Captain, Dreamshade is a very valuable asset to King Gold because of its immense healing power. I don't know where you found these books your brother speaks of, but I grew up on the island, so I would certainly know." 

"See, Killian, I told you." 

"Yes, Killian, trust your brother,” the boy spits, accentuating his name much more than necessary, almost mocking. “Come help us gather some of these branches, but be careful of the thorns. We want to make sure as much of it gets back to the King as possible." 

There is still something about the boy — Pan — that Killian can't stand, and he watches as he carefully snips off the end of a branch and drops it in the nearby pouch. 

Killian narrows his eyes towards the boy. "If the plant really does have healing powers, then what would be the need of avoiding the thorns? What is it going to do, heal me too much?" 

Pan opens his mouth to respond, but Liam beats him to it, stepping back towards the bush, moving slowly away from Killian. “Come, now, brother, don’t be like that. The king would not have sent us on such a diplomatic mission if it weren’t for the good of everyone, and he certainly would have informed us if we were to collect a deadly poison instead of a plant with healing abilities.” 

Pan smiles, and the sense of fear that Killian has felt since the King gave them their mission suddenly becomes paralyzing because of it. 

Something is wrong. 

“Here, I’ll even prove it to you,” Liam continues, grabbing one of the branches from the bag, and before either of them can react, he slices the skin of his arm with one of the thorns. 

At first, nothing happens, but the way Pan stares at him wide-eyed makes Killian’s stomach turn.

After a few more seconds pass, all with no reaction from Liam’s arm save a scratch in his skin from the thorns, he shrugs.

“See, Killian, I told—” His words stop in an instant, his eyes going wide as he turns down to his arm.

Where moments before there was only a scratch, the cut has now turned black, the darkness webbing out along his arm and up under his rolled-up sleeve. He tries to say something, but his throat is quicky closing, and Killian is by his side just in time to catch him as he collapses.

“Brother—” he chokes, and the blackness appears from under the collar of his uniform, spreading up his neck.

Killian can’t believe it, and he whips around towards Pan, who is leaning casually against a tree, a sly smile across his adolescent cheeks.

“Why didn’t you stop him?!” Killian screams, clutching tight to Liam's body. “You knew this was going to happen! You could have stopped it!”

“Well, where’s the fun in that, Captain?”

“I have to get him back to the ship, back to the crew, show them exactly what the king sent us here for!”

As soon as Killian lets go of Liam, though, Pan flicks his wrist and whisks his body into the air. “I’m afraid not. Your brother is never going to leave Dead Man’s Peak, ironically enough.” Another flick, and Liam is propped against one of the rocks along the edge of the water — and with another, Killian’s hands are bound behind his back.

Rightfully, he’s furious, but no matter how hard he fights against his restraints, he somehow knows he’ll never get out. “What do you think you're doing?!”

“I’m just doing as Baelfire ordered.”

“The Prince ordered you to kill my brother? To take me hostage?”

“Oh, no, nothing quite so intricate. He simply ordered me to make sure the Dreamshade arrived back in Nephilysis by any means necessary. You and your dryad brother were simply pawns in a much bigger scheme.”

Suddenly instead of anger, Killian is overcome with a paralyzing sense of fear. “What are you going to do to me?” he asks, his voice much softer than even moments ago. Trembling.

“Well, see, now I’m going to make your crew believe you killed your brother for power so the prince can gain control of your whole fleet of ships.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Pan smiles, another flick of the wrist, and Killian finds himself unable to speak, all of his words coming out as mumbles. “Because no matter what you say, Baelfire is going to have you killed." 

 Killian is tied to the mast, his crew standing in a circle around him, every eye on him. He knows that many of these men — men that he has known for years, one that he’s known for most of his life — don’t believe the lies that Pan is spewing, but they’re all smart enough not to argue with him, backed always by Prince Baelfire. Not to mention the woman, the woman he loves, though he hasn’t had the nerve to tell her yet. The woman that’s not even supposed to be on the ship with them, that he begged Liam to let come. The woman whose eyes are brimming with tears, he just knows it, but he can’t bring himself to look at her. 

Milah. 

"The power the Admiral gained must have been too much for him," Pan says, his eyes filled with a fake sadness, but Killian knows (hopes) no one else sees it that way. "He saw how important the healing abilities of Dreamshade were going to be to the King and decided to kill the Admiral and take all the glory." 

That’s not true! his mind screams, but there is nothing he can do about it. Pan and Baelfire have worked their charm over the crew, and even if anyone did take his side, they would just be tossed overboard to their deaths with him. He knows at least some of his crew must be loyal to him, knows that they must know he would never usurp power from Liam. 

Right? 

Instead of focusing on Pan or the Prince, or even his love, he looks around the circle of men, searching for Merlin. Merlin, his oldest friend beside his brother — his oldest living friend, now — is the smartest man either of them ever met, and he must know this is all a rouse for the prince to gain more power. He must know that none of it is real. Finally, he finds him, and though he is weak from whatever charm Pan cast over him when they left Dead Man's Peak, he can focus on his friend enough to recognize his slight nod, the understanding in his eyes. If nothing else, he has Merlin on his side, and hopefully he is able to carry out the plan they discussed not long before about what they should do should the Jewel of the Realm ever fall into the wrong hands — as it is about to do. 

"Killian Jones," Prince Baelfire says, his voice loud, booming, demanding, and every eye on the ship is drawn to him — though Milah, he notices, is still looking only at him. "I find you guilty of treason and sentence you to death. Usually aboard a ship, the penalty would be walking the plank, and I do believe that would be equally efficient in these circumstances." 

Milah screams, but no one acknowledges her, which just makes Killian’s heart break more.

Killian gulps. Pan smiles, though no one seems to notice. 

"B-b-but your majest-t-ty," First Mate William Smee tries, his voice shuddering with fear. "We're th-thousands of feet in the — in the air!" 

The Prince whips around to face him, anger obvious on his features, and Smee practically cowers away. "That is precisely why it will be efficient, Smee," he growls between gritted teeth, then turns back to Killian, who has just a few more steps to reach the plank. 

He turns quickly, hoping to find Milah’s face one more time before falling to his death, but she is no longer looking at him. Instead, she has fallen to her knees on the deck, the winds whipping her wild, dark hair around her face, which she holds in her hands. 

“I love you,” he whispers, which uses all the strength he has left. 

"To your death, traitor," he says, and a whoosh of magic from Pan’s hand pushes him over the side of the ship, falling towards his death and towards the waters below.

 His eyes snap open moments before he hits the surface of the water, though every inch of his body remembers how it felt. But instead of the freezing cold that he expects, he feels… warm? Off-balance. Delirious. 

It takes him a moment to get his bearings, because everything around him is dark. There’s a light weight on his chest, a warmth emanating from it and through his whole body. 

“Hey, hey, no, you’re alright,” a voice whispers in his ear. 

Emma’s voice. 

She's comforting him, the soft light of her magic illuminating where her hands are pressed against his chest, relaxing him. A few more moments, deep breaths, and he has come to completely, so he relaxes, leaning back into her arms. There is something about her, something about the way she takes care of him and the care she has shown him since she first laid eyes on him in her office that he appreciates immensely, and he can't help the thoughts that come in his sleepy haze about how she has come to mean more to him than that. He hasn't opened his heart up to the idea of love his whole , but he can't help but think maybe, if they somehow succeed at their mission and save his life, he may be able to no longer hide from the feelings that he has been pushing deeper and deeper down. 

"You can't be comfortable like this, Swan," he whispers, realizing for the first time the position they are in on the back seat of the truck, but he is apparently wrong, since she's fallen asleep with her hands on his chest and her head resting back against the pillow pressed against the window.

He quickly drifts off. 

TAGS: @shireness-says​​​ @cssns​​ @kmomof4​​ @thisonesatellite​​  @teamhook​​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​​​ @cocohook38​​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​ @facesiousbutton82​​ @hollyethecurious​​​ @stahlop​​��� @tiguanasummertree  @angellifedeath​​​ @pepperpottss​​​ @mariakov81​​​ @scientificapricot​​​ @kday426​​​ @xarandomdreamx​​​ @ohmightydevviepuu​​​ @xhookswenchx​​​ @nikkiemms​​​ @carpedzem​​​ @superchocovian​​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​​ @snowbellewells​​​ @courtorderedcake​​​ @captain-emmajones​​​ @killian-whump​​​ @officerrogers​​​ @killianjonesownsmyheart1​ – want to be added or removed? let me know!

[hopeymchope]

Magia Record: Reflecting on the Anime and the Game’s Story Ending

With Magia Record's story now complete in-game and with the anime "finished" (only the first season, but it took until literally this past weekend for the production team at Shaft to acknowledge that the second season is coming/inevitable), I have like… a ton of thoughts about where the game and the anime landed.

This will probably mostly be gripes, but overall, I'm still pretty happy with both. I've invested my past year into Magia Record during a lot of my free time, and hey – no regrets here. That game was absolutely worth the experience. The anime? Jury's still out somewhat, but it looks good so far.

This is definitely a normal thing to find surrounding a radio tower.

Anime Adaptation Thoughts:

The original Madoka Magica anime made the world feel slightly off-kilter by employing locations that were just a little off the rails from reality. The producers noted Madoka's bathroom as an important example; it's simply too large and has too much wasted space. It's maybe the biggest room in their house for no discernible reason, and that's by design, because it feels wrong. Another one was the music store we see in the first episode, where the technology is noticeably on a level that you just can't find in any real shop. On the flip side, the Magia Record anime creates a world that is deeply bizarre in many ways – much moreso than the original anime or the Magia Record game world. This is probably because the creator of the witch designs in the original was given far more creative control over the series as a whole this time around, and the result was BUGNUTS. Take note of the massive stack of discarded school desks that is arranged in a dangerous, precarious pile atop the school building (helpfully labeled as a waste pile, despite the fact that… well, who is picking up these garbage desks from the goddamn roof?). That's some imagery straight out of a witch's labyrinth, but it is ostensibly "reality." I think that's where Magia Record's anime really goes bugnuts, sometimes to powerful effect in that it makes things feel more unsettling… and sometimes to ridiculous effect. I mean, the field surrounding the radio tower now being replaced with a yard of jagged, cockeyed, towering gravestones and cross-like woodwork dangling with ropes and tridents? That's a LOT. That's… that's too much.

Look, if you were a die-hard fan of Kaede in the game, I am deeply sorry, because your girl got done DIRTY by the anime. Anyone who played the game who then sees where she winds up at the end of episode 12 is likely on a train straight to Double-You Tee Eff Station. I can't deny that it makes sense for the limited story she's given to develop across, but it was still disappointing to see. I suppose we don't really have the time to develop up all of the other characters from the game, so somebody had to sub in for this role… but oof.

Sana's backstory with her family is not nearly explained or explored enough in the show. I honestly think it comes off as confusingly unclear why they treated her like this or why they didn't notice her vanish at all. The game justifies this devastatingly well, but it feels like it's not clear at all here.

I think they could've had Kyubey run around Kamihama for part of the first season before he got ousted/blocked, and I think it would've been beneficial to do so. Now, that's not just because I love his character and find him fascinating, although that's definitely true, but it's also because there's so much exposition that I wish he could deliver to the characters about what's happened before we got here. Like, the tragic truth about Felicia's backstory is wonderfully awful, and I wish there was some way to deliver that into the anime, but I don't think it's possible without a ton of flashbacks. (And to be fair, players of the game may never know it without playing her particular Magical Girl Story.)

The change to not having Mami attack Yachiyo when they first meet was something I felt was a positive move. I loved that Mami got to have a moment she never had in the game during the Radio Tower arc, too. In generally, I enjoyed the slower, more piecemeal involvement of the original Holy Quintet, which has served as nice slow tease compared to having them be more upfront in the game. I did kind of miss the Madoka/Homura involvement in the radio tower case, but I ultimately came away feeling like it was better to save those two for later in the story because they're probably the best-known characters from the original series.

The combat soundtrack is exquisite - maybe better than ever before, honestly. The Magia Record anime has the best fight music in the series outside of, say, Rebellion.

Game's Ending Thoughts: (Spoilers Within)

The anime cutscenes in the final chapter are delightful.

Puella Magi has never shied away from having its characters die in the original anime or in the many manga stories. I'd argue that those deaths are at least part of what makes it such a successful subversion of the Magical Girl formula; the threat of death (often via witchiness) establishes the idea of there being permanent consequences that simple hope and faith and love can't overcome in spite of what those other anime may have told you. On the other hand, Magia Record turns out to have very close to zero consequences. Aside from established deaths from flashbacks that have occurred before the game even begins, by the end of the game, literally no one dies. Not even the most blatantly psychotic character is allowed to shuffle off her mortal coil; she just "disappears" and escapes. I particularly like (please note the sarcasm) how three different characters do some kind of "super-move" during the final two chapters that is said to most likely kill them, and yet they all survive them! At least ONE character winds up with some paralysis, but jeez, the others walk away completely unscathed. I can only hope the anime doesn't go quite so weak in the knees about any of the characters suffering actual consequences from the potentially-world-ending-level battles that occur.

I previously griped that I actually expected the psychos responsible for the entire storyline to get off scot-free, and although they don't get off 100% free and clear by the time the credits role, they come extremely close to doing so. However, I was really happy with the "Cherry Blossom Dreams" epilogue event, because there is dialogue in there that has the Magius admit that whatever guilt they have now, they are still capable of being complete sociopaths who want to dominate the Earth. That one person's presence (Ui) shouldn't be (and isn't) enough to keep them from being incredibly dangerous. Ultimately, the solution/punishment they receive is probably the best one available in light of their overall survival. Well done.

Speaking of the Magius, I mean… is it really possible that so many feathers never questioned that they were following a couple of 11/12-year-olds and one blatantly obvious psychotic? I guess having face time with the Magius was pretty rare, but there was still enough that some of the feathers declared their allegiance was primarily to those three above all else. And most magical girls range closer to 16 than to 11, I mean, y'know? Which is practically an eternity in terms of maturity. So I guess MIfuyu did a lot of heavy lifting on NOT making them seem like absolutely the worst possible choices for leadership, huh? (And for that reason: Mifuyu got off fucking LIGHT.)

Aaaand speaking of "one obvious psychotic," I find it funny how almost nobody knows Alina outside of her Magius role except for Karin. Because, just… it's so perfect. Karin (who is not a "Karen") happens to be the most insanely tolerant person when it comes to Alina. She seems to shrug off Alina's entire everything as amusing, forgivable quirks. Perhaps because so many people believe Karin's own obsession with Halloween is a weirdly morbid quirk, Karin doesn't even question Alina's obsession with making art about death using actual human remains. Which is… funny? No, seriously. I think it's legitimately comedic in a good way. But it should probably be much more alarming to me that she doesn't care. I'd like to think that Karen feels it's just delightfully Halloween-y for Alina to paint her canvas with legit blood, and I do believe Karin isn't really the kind of person who would ask where the blood came from because whatever, it's probably fine, better get back to planning my pageant or something. She probably even thinks Alina's skulls are plastic Halloween decorations. :P

We need to talk about Mami: Mami in "Another Story Chapter 9" felt so off and out-of-character compared to how she was written in things like Rebellion or A Different Story or Wraith Arc, and furthermore, despite that chapter being entirely about Mami wanting to just be a simple peer with no superiority over the rest of the Holy Quintet, Another Story Chapter 10 has her immediately revert back to being the smart senpai character, further cementing how weirdly "off" Chapter 9 felt. I realize they had something difficult to write, here, though. It's painful how Sayaka has to run middlewoman between Kyoko and Mami in Chapter 10 of AS. I feel like I could write a whole screed about Kyoko's behavior across the franchise and how difficult a character she is for me to like even though I "get it" and don't think she's necessarily a bad person; she's just living on the edge of being almost a total hypocrite basically ALL THE TIME. The conclusion where Kyoko acknowledges that she's going to continue to work with Mami and the others semi-regularly in spite of everything is really the best closure you can hope for with her. She's too antagonistic to give us much else, and she prefers it that way. It would take years to see her mellow.

At this point, it seems safe to assume that there isn't going to be any "season 2" of the game like what happened with Fate/Grand Order after its finale. The main narrative is well and truly done, and it's just going to be various events from here on out. Is that enough to keep me around? Um. I don't know. Probably not? Hard to say. I don't really know what other mobile game to throw my heart into. I've considered Attack on Titan Tactics, but like… Attack on Titan hasn't been kind to me lately so uhhhhh.

[lizacstuff]

How do you feel about SCK episodes since episode 13 and the upcoming one ? The drama doesn't bother me, and the slower pace compared to the begining makes sense to me. But I feel like the popular feeling among fans is that it's getting boring, it lackes its magic from earlier days, that characters (Serkan, Selin and Aptekin) have been butchered. I don't it is fair because the drama is necessary and I actually think Serkan character development is very consistent and make the most sense.

Anyone who thinks Serkan’s characterization has been butchered isn’t really watching. I agree with your assessment that his development has been consistent. It sounds like the people who were pissed that he took Selin’s side in that office situation. Good GAWD, it was a professional problem and then Serkan spent all episode trying to make it up to Eda. The tables will turn on Selin soon enough, just wait. Speaking of Selin and also Aptekin, they’ve been selfish from day one, they’re still selfish. What’s been butchered? Their characters were barely sketched to begin with because they are not the point of the show. 

As for the negativity, does it matter what the “popular feeling among fans” is? Also I reject that. Who says what the popular feeling is in a fandom that spans the globe, like 20 different languages, and a diverse set of people? Honestly, I’m going to chastise you a bit, because by you taking the loudest complainers and deeming their negative opinions as that of the group, you’re playing right into it. Don’t do that. From what I can see on other platforms, it’s just a subset of vocal people who criticize everything. Honestly, it seems to me there’s a bunch of overly-emotional people who each week convince themselves that this week there’s going to be a kiss and reconciliation, and when it (predictably) doesn’t happen they channel their disappointment into wrecking the place with negativity. Immature and ridiculous.

There’s also an element of people who are used to binging and can’t handle the slow burn of the story from week to week. I’m an old fangirl, so am more than used to the wait (Josh and Donna from The West Wing took SEVEN YEARS in real time to get together). To that, I say that the joy is in the journey. Watching something unfold over weeks, months and even years is ultimately so much more satisfying that inhaling it all in one weekend and then it’s over. ENJOY THIS WHILE IT LASTS. 

Plus who gets to say the magic is gone? I don’t let pessimists dictate anything for me. EVER. The magic is gone for them because they put themselves in a bad headspace while watching. The lens they view everything through is of their own choosing and its on them. I see plenty of magic. Life lesson: and this is more than about a TV show, it’s a key cornerstone of happiness. Like what you like, love what you love, don’t let other people’s internal neurosis or unhappiness dictate anything for you. Ever. 

Honestly, when it comes to Sen Cal Kapimi, they’re missing the point, because it’s just not that serious. Constructive criticism is fine and all, but this is not a deep piece of art. This is entertainment for entertainment’s sake.  A broad comedy with a dose of melodrama, and everything is about the romantic journey of these two people falling in love. Constantly finding something to complain about is like complaining about dessert. I’m in the US and yesterday was Thanksgiving, I was able to have a small, outdoor celebration with family. It went great, except that the pumpkin pie was ruined. Oh no, pumpkin pie is the traditional desert everyone looks forward to and we can’t have it! Did everyone get upset and decide everything was ruined? No, of course not, that’s not how I or anyone in my family rolls, everyone just got on with it and enjoyed the other pies. BECAUSE IT’S PIE. It’s all good, just another flavor. 

Enjoying this show is 100% being able to sit back, relax and enjoy the love story between Eda and Serkan. If that’s not for you, this show is not for you. If you get mad every week because things didn’t go your exact way, then I don’t know how you enjoy watching anything, because no show goes exactly to anyone’s wishes. 

I actually saw a great tweet yesterday, someone was sick of the negativity and nit-picking from certain people and reminded them that they fully bitched and complained after the Antayla episode. Apparently they hated it, had all sorts of problems with it, nitpicked like crazy, blah blah. WHAT? Seriously WTF? I wasn’t around, but those terds were complaining and bitching after we got the hotel fashion montage, room sharing, swimming, volleyball, stargazing, climbing waterfalls and the red dress paparazzi beach rescue!?!?! SERIOUSLY.  That right there tells you that it’s more about who these people are, than the show. 

Nothing will please them, ever. Don’t let it get you down. Block, mute, stay off of platforms where it gets negative, but protect your experience with something you enjoy.