#...hesitate to tag this as anything else...

[gilbertscurls]

The park was quiet, blanketed in fresh snow that crunched softly beneath your boots. You pulled your scarf tighter against the crisp winter air, your breath visible in the cold as you walked beside Chris. The path ahead was lit by soft, golden streetlights, their glow reflecting off the snow and casting an almost magical hue over the scene.

“This is nice,” you said, glancing at Chris.

He smiled, his hands tucked into his coat pockets. “Yeah, it is. I told you a night walk was worth braving the cold.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You said, and I quote, ‘I promise you won’t freeze to death.’ Big difference.”

He laughed, nudging your shoulder gently. “Same thing.”

The two of you continued down the path, passing snow-dusted benches and trees whose branches sparkled with frost. The quiet of the park made it feel like you were the only two people in the world, the occasional rustle of the wind the only sound besides your footsteps.

Then, Chris stopped suddenly, glancing up at one of the streetlights.

“What?” you asked, turning to face him.

He didn’t answer right away, his eyes darting between the light and the gently falling snow around you. Finally, he grinned and held out a hand.

“Dance with me.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What? Here? Now?”

“Why not?” he said, his voice warm and teasing. “It’s perfect. Look at this—snow, lights, no one else around. It’s like something out of a Christmas movie.”

You hesitated, looking around the empty park. “Chris…”

He stepped closer, his grin softening into a sincere smile. “Come on. Just one dance.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you took his hand, letting him pull you closer. “Alright, but if anyone sees us, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” he said, slipping an arm around your waist.

There was no music, just the quiet hum of the streetlights and the muffled sound of the snow falling around you. Chris swayed you gently, his steps deliberate and exaggerated to make you smile.

“You’re terrible at this,” you teased, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Hey, I’m a great dancer,” he shot back, grinning. “I’m just… embracing the awkwardness.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up, your breath fogging in the cold as you let yourself relax into the moment. Chris spun you once, almost slipping on the icy path but catching himself with a laugh.

“Careful,” you said, steadying him.

“Just testing your reflexes,” he replied, his hand tightening around yours.

The world around you seemed to disappear as you danced under the glow of the streetlight, the snow swirling softly around you like confetti. Chris’ eyes sparkled, his usual playful energy tempered by a quiet warmth that made your chest ache in the best way.

“You know,” he said after a moment, his voice low, “I was right. This is perfect.”

You smiled up at him, your cheeks flushed from more than just the cold. “Yeah, it is.”

And as the two of you swayed together in the snowy park, you couldn’t help but think that this moment—simple, spontaneous, and entirely unexpected—was more magical than anything you’d ever seen in a Christmas movie.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry, @shadowthesim

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 3.9k

Part 15/17

Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt (if anyone else would like to be tagged with future updates let me know!)

"It's dark now and I am very tired. I love you, always. Time is nothing." - Audrey Niffenegger

Masterlist

Wind whistled through your hair, its gentle tune the only sound that filled your ears. It was soothing, in a way, like a lullaby sung by the earth itself. Only, you weren’t sure if you were on Runeterra anymore. 

A vast darkness spread out around you, galaxies and star clusters the only source of light. You felt weightless like a feather floating along a spring breeze. Each breath was a struggle, your lungs fighting against the choked sobs and screams that had long since subsided. Numbness spread through your limbs, your cheeks itching with your dried tears. 

It didn’t matter where you were. Viktor was gone, you’d felt him fade through your fingers. You’d lost him, and you lost yourself. It seemed fitting. Time slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass, and you fell through nothingness. 

A warmth pulsed dimly in your chest. Pleasant, and familiar in a way you couldn’t describe, you curled around it, tucking it away protectively. The scent of blooming flowers and the bitterness of ink filled your senses, a gentle hug wrapped itself around you, the sounds of laughter echoing in your ear. You’d known that laugh once, light and shy in its joy until coaxed out - a comfort on a long day. Innocent, kind, and intelligent, it felt like sleepovers and whispered confessions hidden in shared giggles.

It had resided in your chest for some time. Subconsciously, you’d been aware of its presence, but you hadn’t acknowledged it - too afraid to hope that it was real and not just another cruel trick.

“You’re not alone,” it said in a soothing tone, one that plucked a dull ache on your heartstrings like a mournful violin. “There are others. Reach out, they are waiting for you.”

But what if you hurt the others, failed to protect them? You couldn’t be trusted with their safety. You couldn’t even ensure the survival of the man you loved more than anything.

The warmth pulsed around you, holding you close. “I have always trusted you, Mila. You did the best you could, but even you can’t save everyone.” 

Why have all these powers if you couldn’t fix everything? Wasn’t that what Soraka had told you to do? 

“Come on,” the warmth tugged at your ribs, unfurling your limbs. “The Mila I know doesn’t give up, not on me, not on Viktor, not on the souls who need you. Search for a spark of your magic and you will find them.” 

You hesitated, torn between the comfort of oblivion and the call to action. But the warmth in your chest pulsed insistently, urging you onward. With a deep breath, you stretched out your awareness, tendrils of consciousness probing the dark expanse around you.

At first, there was nothing but emptiness. Then, like distant stars twinkling into existence, you felt them. Two souls, an echo of your magic encasing their energies, beckoned to you across the void.

The first soul radiated a steady, comforting glow. It felt like tight hugs and bedtime stories, like scraped knees kissed better and proud smiles at your accomplishments. Fatherly love wrapped around you like a well-worn blanket, and you instinctively reached out to embrace it.

The second soul sparkled with an effervescent energy that made you want to laugh and cry at the same time. It bubbled with questions and wonder. Childlike curiosity danced at the edges of your consciousness, tugging at you with an infectious enthusiasm that was impossible to resist.

You pulled the souls towards you and they came willingly, eagerly even, as if they had been waiting for your summons. As they nestled into your chest alongside the familiar warmth, a new realization took hold.

The stars were not stars at all, but souls, all lost and floating in the void of nothingness.

No sooner had you come to this realization than gravity reasserted its hold on you. You plummeted through the soul-studded oblivion, picking up speed as you fell. The darkness gave way to streaks of light, then swirling iridescent mists, then the solid ground rushing up to meet you.

You hit the earth with the force of a falling comet - your magic creating a shield to take the brunt of the impact as it sent tremors through the ground and kicked up a cloud of dust and debris. Sparks skittered across the floor around you, crackling with residual energy from your descent.

Cool tile seeped through your clothes and into your back, the smell of chemicals, grease, and lemony cleaning products jarring you into alertness. 

You sat up quickly, heart hammering as you registered exactly where you were. Your clothes were rumpled and torn, and there was a wild, haunted look in your vibrant Shimmer-infused eyes.

The lab materialized around you in a dizzying rush of familiar sights, sounds, and smells. Beakers and test tubes clinked softly as they settled from the tremors of your arrival. The air hummed with the low drone of machinery, punctuated by the occasional crackle of electricity. Dust danced in shafts of sunlight that streamed through high windows, catching on the edges of half-finished inventions and carefully labelled jars.

Your gaze swept across the room, taking in the organized chaos of Viktor's workspace. His Hextech designs still adorned the walls, intricate blueprints and diagrams that spoke of dreams yet unrealized - and they would forever stay that way in his absence.

How does one return home, completely and irrevocably changed, only to find everything else has stayed the same? You were still you, but you were not the Mila who had spent most of her time locked up in this lab, desperately trying to figure out her magic to save her friends. 

In the end, you’d let them down. 

As you stood, swiping your fingers along desks entirely to clean, the memories rushed back like a roaring river, flooding your mind with bittersweet longing. 

"Mom, Dad, this is where the magic happens!" Sky exclaimed, spreading her arms wide as she ushered them into the room. Her parents, a kind-faced couple with matching graying hair, looked around with awe and bewilderment in the wide set of their eyes.

You'd been hunched over a workbench, trying to pull apart two pieces of tech that Jayce had sat on, squashing them together - it was salvageable, or at least you hoped so - but had perked up upon Sky’s unexpected visitors. She’d told you they were coming, but in your infinite wisdom, you’d forgotten that they were coming today.

"And this is my friend, Mila!" She grabbed your arm, pulling you up and forward with surprising strength for someone with such a distinct lack of muscle.

You stumbled, nearly knocking over a rack of test tubes, your cheeks flushing as you found yourself suddenly the center of attention. "Um, hello," you managed, awkwardly wiping your hands on your pants and smearing grease from your palms. Perfect. You were thankful that neither Jayce nor Viktor were present to see your embarrassment.

Sky's mother smiled kindly, reaching out to clasp your hand, not at all bothered by how dirty it was. "So you're the famous Mila we've heard so much about! Sky talks about you constantly."

"Mom!" Sky protested, her cheeks turning pink.

Her father chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's true. We were beginning to think you were some sort of magical creature she'd invented."

You laughed then, a bit too forced - little did they know how true that was. "No, I'm quite real. Though sometimes I wonder if Sky isn't the magical one, the way she makes machines come to life."

Sky beamed at the compliment, launching into an enthusiastic explanation of her latest project. You watched, a fond smile on your face, as she darted around the lab, pointing out various inventions and experiments.

Her parents listened attentively, nodding along even when it was clear they didn't understand half of what she was saying. But their pride was evident in every glance, every encouraging word.

As the tour wound down, Sky's mother turned to you. "Thank you," she said quietly, while Sky was distracted showing her father a particularly complex diagram. "For being her friend. For understanding her. We worry, you know, with her being from the Undercity."

You shook your head, your gaze drawn to Sky's animated face as she gestured wildly, explaining some more intricate details. "How could I not? She's brilliant. And kind. And…" you paused, searching for the right words. "She makes the world brighter, just by being in it."

Sky's mother squeezed your hand, her eyes glistening. "I'm so glad she has you," she whispered.

And some friend you’d been. Would Sky’s parents be grateful that she had disappeared without a trace, reduced to ashes because you couldn’t stop it in time?

The memory shifted, colours swirling and reforming in new shapes and patterns.

You were perched on the edge of a workbench, legs swinging freely as you gesticulated wildly, your voice rising and falling with enthusiasm. Sky sat on a stool in front of you, chin propped on her hands, her bright eyes fixed on you with rapt attention.

"I'm telling you, Sky, that Poro understands everything! Have you seen the way he looks at Heimerdinger when he's explaining his theories? Those beady little eyes are practically glowing with comprehension!"

Sky shook her head, her curls bouncing with the movement. "Poros are adorable, sure, but they're just animals. Clever animals, maybe, but not capable of understanding complex scientific concepts."

You leaned forward, nearly toppling off the workbench in your eagerness. "But what if they are? What if Poros are actually hyper-intelligent beings from another dimension, just pretending to be cute and fluffy to study us?"

Sky burst into laughter, the sound echoing off the lab's high ceilings. "Now you're just being ridiculous," she giggled, wiping tears from her eyes.

You grinned, about to launch into another wild theory when movement across the room caught your eye. Viktor stood by his workstation, a half-assembled device forgotten in his hands as he watched your animated discussion. His face was softer than you'd ever seen it, the usual sharp lines of concentration smoothed away. A small, almost imperceptible smile played at the corners of his mouth, his eyes warm with an emotion you couldn't quite name.

As your gaze met his, his smile widened just a fraction, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. Surrounded by the familiar disarray of the lab, with Sky's laughter still ringing in your ears and Viktor's gentle gaze upon you, you felt a sense of belonging so profound it made your chest ache.

You'd opened your mouth, about to call Viktor over to settle the debate, when a loud crash from the other side of the lab shattered the moment. Jayce's voice rang out, a string of colourful curses following the sound of breaking glass.

Viktor's demeanour shifted instantly, the softness replaced by a look of stern concentration. He strode towards the source of the commotion, already calling out instructions and admonishments.

You and Sky exchanged a glance, barely containing your laughter as you hopped off the bench to help clean up whatever mess had been made.

Jayce, oh how you hated him now, yearned to tear him to shreds like he had done to your heart, put a hole in his chest like he’d done to Viktor. Yet even still, as another memory washed over you, seeing him smiling with perfectly white teeth, laughing as he clapped Viktor a little too hard on the shoulder and made him stumble - revenge for an earlier teasing remark - had a bone-deep longing rattling through your ribcage. 

You blinked, and the scene had changed again.

Viktor stood beside Jayce's workstation, the end of his cane hovering just an inch away from Jayce's leg. A mischievous glint sparkled in Viktor's eyes, and you watched with thinly veiled interest.

"It's not touching you," Viktor insisted, his voice deadpan, always committed to the bit.

Jayce, hunched over a delicate piece of Hextech machinery, glared up at Viktor. "Yes, it is," he grumbled, trying to focus on the intricate wiring before him.

"No, it's not," Viktor countered. "There's a clear inch of space between my cane and your leg. I fail to see how that constitutes touching."

Jayce's hands stilled, and he straightened up, fixing Viktor with an exasperated glower. "I can feel the energy from your cane, Viktor. It's disrupting my work."

"Ah, but feeling energy is not the same as physical contact," Viktor replied, his voice taking on the lecturing tone he often used when explaining, well, anything. "If we were to consider every instance of energy transfer as 'touching,' we'd never stop touching anything or anyone. The implications for personal space would be quite alarming."

Before you could contain it, you snorted in an entirely undignified manner, clapping your hands over your nose and mouth much too late. Jayce’s scowl turned on you. "Mila, please tell Viktor to stop being a pest and let me work in peace."

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence even as you grinned. "I don't know, Jayce. Viktor makes a compelling argument about the nature of touch and energy transfer. Perhaps we should conduct a series of experiments to determine the exact parameters of-"

"Oh, not you too," Jayce groaned, but there was no real annoyance in his voice. He turned back to Viktor, gesturing dramatically with a tiny screwdriver. "Fine, you win this round. But I swear, if that cane comes any closer, you’ll find your fridge empty of sweet milk."

Viktor's eyes widened in mock horror. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me," Jayce challenged, a competitive gleam in his eye.

You missed your friends, your family, the good times you’d shared and taken for granted. You’d fought so damn hard, but you’d lost it all. 

The memories came quicker. 

Your fingers brushed Viktor’s as he passed you a pen, a static shock passing between you making you jump back and blush. 

Sky’s shy smile as she invited you to have a sleepover at her apartment that night, a girl’s night, she’d called it. 

Jayce, sound asleep, his head propped up by his forearm, and mouth agape. Wads of balled-up paper littered the desk and floor around him as you and Viktor took turns trying to get them in his mouth. You both held back your snickers when a perfectly aimed shot hit him in the middle of the forehead and he snorted, disgruntled in his rest. And Sky’s exasperated huff when she’d caught you. 

Hands held in yours - thinner than ever before but no less beautiful, always so beautiful. Curls at the nape of his neck that he wound around his finger as he concentrated. The beauty mark on his upper lip quirking up as he suppressed a grin. 

Tears flowed freely down your cheeks, your chest hiccupping with sobs. As the images faded, so too did the last remnants of hope and happiness. Alone, you were alone in a place that had once felt like home but was now a tomb to the lives you’d lost. 

Your knees cracked against the floor, echoing across the empty lab. You didn’t feel it beneath the weight of your anguish, pressing down on you like an anvil. Hadn’t you cried enough, hurt enough? When would the world deem your suffering enough? When would it stop stealing the people you loved? 

Viktor, fuck, you couldn’t breathe. He was gone and you were here. Left behind like a broken doll at the bottom of the bin. Not beautifully broken, but shattered like a porcelain figurine thrown onto sharpened rocks. Your lungs expanded rapidly, but no air reached them. 

Why did he leave you? He’d promised to stay, had you not been what he wanted? Too much and too little at the same time. 

No, you had been, he’d loved you, you’d felt it in every touch, saw it in every glance. He hadn’t wanted to go. Why did that make it so much worse? To have had such devotion, such tender love, only to have it cruelly ripped away. 

“Viktor,” you sobbed his name, the heels of your palms pressed against your eyes until you saw stars. “Please, come back.”

But he didn’t answer. 

It was only you. 

And the pulsing warmth inside your chest. But even they did little to soothe you. 

The sparks, your magical vessels, glowed and faded in time with the warmth, vibrating their anguish as crystalline shards fell like tears from their tiny forms. 

Lost in your own grief, the creak of the door and soft padding footsteps went unnoticed. Until a familiar voice pierced through your thoughts with a startled, "Mila?" And with an animalistic instinct, you lunged. 

In a blur of motion, you launched yourself at the intruder, slamming his back against the cold, unforgiving wall. Your limbs rippled with power as you held him in place, your feral snarl echoing in the emptiness of the room.

“Jayce,” you spat with pure hatred, your nostalgia for your friendship fracturing under the force of your rage. “You killed him.”

You were a mess, hair frazzled, red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks, but your magic was strengthened by your grief, your wild emotions fuelling it like gasoline on a bonfire. Even with all his strength, Jayce wouldn’t be able to break your hold. 

Yet, he didn’t try. He simply stared at you with wide, glassy eyes, and his lips parted. “I thought…” he exhaled shakily, “I thought you were dead.”

All at once, your rage, your anger and need to inflict your pain upon him died. He looked at you with such pure relief - despite the threat you posed - that against your will, your hold on him loosened. 

Gritting your teeth, you shook your head.

“Why?” you sobbed, your voice cracking as tears spilled down your cheeks anew. “Why did you do it?”

His face fell, horror and grief pressing down on him like the weight of the world itself. “It’s complicated,” he said quietly, not meeting your eyes. 

You scoffed, and suddenly the feel of him made your skin crawl and burn. With a rough shove, you pushed him to the side. He stumbled, barely catching himself on a nearby desk, arms slamming down to stop himself from falling. 

“That’s not good enough,” you growled, magic swirling around you. “You will tell me why, or I will make you.” 

His eyes darted towards the door, and following his gaze you were affronted by his unnatural-looking hammer. Spiralled webbing covered the warped surface, crawling up the handle like a poisonous vine. It reeked of depravity and degeneration. A bastardized purpose. A weapon that should never have been made in the first place. 

You gave him a glare of warning, fingers twitching. He had the good sense to look ashamed. 

“Sorry. Instinct. It’s been a crazy few months.” 

You took him in, his healed facial scars, shaggy hair and scruffy beard, the leg brace. 

“Explain.” 

With a heavy sigh, he did. He kept it short, but the more he spoke, the more you realized exactly how big the stakes were. 

“So you…” you pursed your lips, a pang echoing in your heart. “You killed him because a future version of himself told you that you couldn’t allow that future to happen? You didn’t even try to talk to him first?” 

Jayce winced. “He was already corrupted by the Hexcore, and I made a promise to him that I’d destroy it. Besides, I wasn’t exactly thinking straight. You try eating only corrupted newts for a few months and see what it does to your sanity.”

You tapped your foot impatiently on the tile floor, arms crossed over your chest. It still wasn’t a good enough answer. Jayce hadn’t even tried to figure something out, just shot him in the chest like he was putting down a rabid dog. You had half a mind to do the same to him.

Sensing your growing fury, Jayce reluctantly added, “It didn’t work, okay? He’s not entirely dead, though he’s not the Viktor we knew anymore.”

Blood rushed from your face, your mouth falling open as your breath caught in your throat. Your head felt light and dizziness overtook you as the room spun, throwing off your equilibrium. You gripped the edge of a workbench, warping the metal, as you steadied yourself. 

Surely, you hadn’t heard him correctly. “What did you just say?”

His jaw clenched and he stared at the ground as those it had insulted his mother. “It’s not him, Mila. Whatever’s left isn’t what made him our friend.” 

“But there’s something left.” 

“Nothing good.” 

You didn’t care. If there was even a sliver of Viktor left then there was hope. 

“I swear to God Jayce, if you’re lying to me in some pathetic attempt to save your own skin—“

“I’m not.” He cut you off. “I wouldn’t do that to you. We were friends once, weren’t we?” 

“You were Viktor’s friend too, but friends don’t typically try to murder each other so I wouldn’t put a lot of stock in your understanding of friendship. You tried to kill your best friend. He would have done anything for you. You’re here and he’s not,” your voice cracked and you cleared your throat. “Your excuse isn’t good enough and that you’d just give up on him…how could you, Jayce?”

Jayce's shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of him. He ran a hand through his hair. "You're right," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t have any good excuses other than it needed to be done. The Hexcore cannot continue to exist. It will destroy everything."

“That was Viktor, not the Hexcore.”

“He was both.”

And you had been the one to merge him with the Hexcore. You watched Jayce, your anger still simmering beneath the surface, but tempered now by the weariness in every line of his face. The familiar hum of machinery provided a low, constant backdrop to your ragged breathing.

Your gaze wandered over the cluttered workbenches. Half-finished inventions lay scattered about, a delicate framework of gears and wires catching your eye, reminding you of when Viktor had spent hours explaining his latest breakthrough, his eyes alight with passion.

The memory sent a fresh wave of despair crashing over you, and you gripped the edge of the desk tighter, your knuckles turning white. The metal groaned under your enhanced strength, warping slightly.

Jayce flinched at the sound, his eyes darting nervously between you and the door. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, words failing him.

“Where is he?” You broke the silence, the magic receded for your fingers, but it remained beneath the surface, ready to be used at a moment's notice. 

“Going after him isn’t going to end well.” The bags beneath his eyes seemed more pronounced in the shadows that hung in the dim light of the lab. 

“Maybe not,” you conceded, “but it is going to end.” 

His eyes scanned yours, darting and calculating like you were an equation he could solve. Whatever he found there was enough for him to straighten and set his shoulders. 

“He’ll be coming with the Noxians, they’re trying to reach the Hexgates. If Viktor gets a hold of them, this entire world is doomed. If you think you can persuade him otherwise then I won’t stop you, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

You nodded, scanning the lab. “I think I know something that can help. How many gemstones do you have in here?” 

“A few dozen, probably. Why?”

You grinned, and Jayce blanched. What more did you have to lose?

Next Chapter

A/N: I did emotional damage to myself with the quote for this chapter :'(

Only two more left! I'm very excited for the next chapter, lots of things happening for these two!

I would love to know what you guys think of the warmth and two other souls Mila found!

[drarry-reccage]

Even Children Get Older by louisfake (M, 4.5k)

Tags: Teddy, first kiss, Christmas

He looked over at Draco, who was looking back at him with a tired, knowing expression, leaning his head back on the cushion. Draco had given him a similar look earlier this year, at Teddy’s first birthday, and again on Andromeda’s birthday in September; the only two times they’d seen each other. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it wasn’t anything else. It was a slight crinkling of the skin around his eyes, a gentle brightness. The corner of Draco’s lips might quirk upwards, almost accidentally. His fingers would fidget restlessly with his sleeve or the hem of his shirt, but his eyes wouldn’t leave Harry’s. It was something like gratitude, almost, simultaneous wariness and warmth—don’t wake the baby. Harry opened his mouth, but Draco held up a finger to his own lips; a silent shh. Harry couldn’t stop the smile from breaking out on his face, nestling a sleepy Teddy against his chest. “Happy Christmas,” he mouthed, and for the first time ever, Draco’s hesitant smile bloomed in a warm, secretive way that felt like it was just for Harry.

A very sweet Christmas fic featuring letters and naps and Teddy and a little bit of pining.

[inevitablesurrender]

There’s a Kingdom Hearts joke in here somewhere.

[mobius-m-mobius]

You wanna hear a good story? Listen to this one.

Mobius + comfort

[w1f1n1ghtm4r3]

i keep calling middle school mizunene soggy kittens so i drew them as kitties. also ft rui watching them

[cryptidapprentice]

maybe an unpopular opinion but i like to think glinda WANTED to throw that torch in No One Mourns The Wicked HEAR ME OUT

they come out w a GIANT EFFIGY of her misunderstood best friend!! They're celebrating her death!!! And she's looking at this thing, and handed the torch and maybe she's thinking that she'd love to tear down the misrepresentation of her old friend, that maybe taking down this effigy will allow the people their peace and celebration, while allowing her friend to rest.

Like, burning the effigy is almost releasing elphaba of the wickedness that was thrust upon her.

(and also maybe glinda just wanted to get rid of that thing asap because of how fucked it was 🤷🏽‍♀️)

The whole song she's acting like she's just as happy as the rest of them, I can see the effigy being a last straw of sorts. So she's not burning her friend, she's burning the people's awful perception of her.

[moghedien]

ended up watching the Wizard of Oz with my mom by accident and now that she's seen Wicked, she just kept asking me questions the whole time

[0809sysblings]

ok but can we talk about how being willing to kill your children is a sign of faith and love according to the story of Abraham and Isaac. and what that means for Amane and her abuse/torture.

ngl that story is so fucked up to tell to children. like. "your mommy and daddy have the right to kill you if the Lord so desires that ^w^!!!". and you just have to kinda live with that information for the rest of your life and not feel any negative feelings about it either or else youre being a bad Christian as well as a bad kid.

[andthebubbles]

okay so some real quick thoughts of 3x05-08

cressida got seriously short-changed. but i don't think the writers were anticipating that people would even like creloise

eloise almost had like a retcon re her friendship with cressida? did she think that was all fake? from what i recall (i might be wrong ofc) she first played into hating her because she pretended she was LW, even though she totally knows she's not, but basically she wanted to take pen's side. and that was it, really. so... i feel like the cressida stuff (and her being shipped off to wales) could've been avoided if they'd just talked. idk

eloise is still... hmmm..... still has some growing to do. but it's fun now, watching her, because i don't find her annoying anymore, unlike in s2

benedict's really floating. but i do feel like his season is next. though, are they really going to have the actor for michaela on standby for four years, if that's the case (eta: i suppose she could have a sideplot for s4, if benedict is lead. i'd love that)

and, actually, i suppose i would not mind fran/michaela next. but i don't want john to die :( but even the priest knew he was gonna die!!!!!!!!!! so i guess he's gonna :(

i very very very much enjoyed anthony's pretty face :3

and all the a&b moments!!!

anthony was half OOC. but all his moments with benedict were lovely so i'm good :3 and he had a nice moment with colin too skjfgnkfg but, too short!! haha

i always need more anthony + any sibling. but i think i like a&b in particular because you can see how close they are

hmm i think i said this elsewhere but i think they resolved the LW stuff too easily. but yeah, they really are using the queen as like, the get out of jail card lol

still trying to decide if they gave cressida a storyline just to put a spanner in the works for LW, or for it to somehow be linked to sophie....... ... is cress gonna come back? hm

colin finalllly got malewifed... finally accepted his role as pen's number 1 simp. good on him. took him a while. had to get through some cringe fragile masculinity moments--or were they just 'wanting to be good enough for pen, wanting to do things for her, wanting to save her' - oh perhaps that's the same thing

i love portia!!! and polly walker is an amazing actor

i wish that cressida wasn't so alone that she felt she had to resort to blackmail. eloise abandoned her by pretending to think she really was LW... and she never turned back from that. kinda like she gaslit herself. idk, i'd have to watch it again, but idk if i can be bothered

as i said in the 3x08 post, iiiiiiiii felt like it was only the last 10 mins or so of that ep that really felt like bridgerton. and i enjoyed that part.

the pacing was off in places. and the characterisation. re pacing, the biggest problem ones i can think of are ep 2 and the first half of ep 8 or so. ep 8 didn't even feel like it should be there at one point.

anyway, these are all initial thoughts

tl;dr we got some lovely a&b!!! and anthony's face is pretty. and benedict and fran are queer. and there was lots of peneloise. and creloise got crushed to the ground

and i feel like i'm missing something. missing lots, in fact

eta:

pen continuing to write LW under her real name is not the same

the discussion of power they touched on in the show is interesting; i also rather liked it in A Thousand Cuts by wall-e-nelson, can't remember which chapter though

[heymacy]

I’m sorry if this is bothersome, but I am interested in learning how to make GIFs. Could you possibly nudge me in the right direction on how to do so? And, again, I’m sorry if this is an annoying ask, I’m just genuinely curious.

hello sweet friend! this isn't an annoying ask at all! i'm so happy you reached out and i'm more than happy to share some resources + tips that helped me start on my own gif making journey!

lots of info + babbling below the cut!

first, THIS is the initial tutorial i used to get started. you will need Photoshop (or an equivalent, though i will admit i'm not familiar with the other applications) and a computer - and that's pretty much it! i know it can seem overwhelming at first because it's so much information but i promise this tutorial has absolutely everything you'll need and is laid out in a really straightforward way!

second, if you're planning on using the video import method as opposed to screencapping, like i do, you'll need video files. i don't know how to use websites like MEGA or any other file downloader so i got all my videos from THIS youtube channel (which i feel most everyone in the gallavich fandom is already familiar with, lmao) - but the quality is still really really good! 1080p should be all you need. you can either download an application to your computer that converts the files via URL or you can use a website (THIS one is really good) OR you can do what i do sometimes when i realize i'm missing a scene (because some videos that are age restricted [see: dock scene] often won't be convertible via applications and websites) which is screen record on your computer or phone and then plop the file wherever you need it - whatever works best for you!

third, when it comes to adjustments, coloring, editing, etc. it's going to take a lot of trial and error but you WILL get there! my favorite adjustments are: curves, levels, hue/saturation, color balance, selective color, vibrance, and sometimes black & white. my favorite filters are the smart sharpen feature and noise.

for SMART SHARPEN my settings are:

amount: 500%, radius: 0.4px, reduce noise: 10%, remove: gaussian blur

THEN a second adjustment using:

amount: 10%, radius: 10px, reduce noise: 10%, remove: gaussian blur

then for NOISE i usually add 4% noise, uniform, monochromatic! admittedly i just recently started using this filter but i think i've found my sweet spot! feel free to play around with this one. for example, black & white with high level noise gives old movie vibes - experiment, experiment, experiment!

HERE is a link to the BBC coder for colored text for captions

HERE is a link to a website where you can get a ton of free PNG files for overlays and funky edits - just make sure you put "PNG" after your search terms!

i also have a bunch of bookmarked links to various gif maker's resource pages that have been helpful to me in the past - if you'd like them please just DM me and i can send you some links!

finally, do you know about the Shameless Creator's Network? we're a network of digital creators for shameless; all characters, all seasons, all experience levels! if you're on Discord, we have a server where we have channels dedicated to just this: learning, growing, inspiring! HERE is an invite link and HERE is our blog!

otherwise, if you have any other questions or need help along the way, PLEASE don't hesitate to reach out to me via asks or DM - i am MORE than happy to help! i love seeing people learn a new craft and if i can assist at all with that then i absolutely will!

[demonio-fleurs]

i was tagged by @incalamity <3 (ty for the tag!!!)

tagging @eriklehnsherrr, @petalpetal, @darishima, @foryouthegays, @latinokokonoi & @clauwagart & anyone else who wants to participate!

[stevethehairington]

i keep seeing people saying that they killed izzy for shock value a la game of thrones and i just— not every character death is there for shock value?? just because you don't expect it doesn't mean it's specific purpose is to garner shock value.

izzy very clearly represented piracy. he was steadfast and staunch in his ways and he held onto the traditions of piracy with a TIGHT fist throughout the first season and the start of the second. not to mention, s2 was ALWAYS leading to this theme of "the end of piracy". the clues were there the whole season!!! and by that logic, if izzy = piracy, then end of piracy = end of izzy.

im not happy about his death!! im disappointed hes gone!! i loved him, he was probably my favorite character this season!! BUT i do understand why djenks did it. and it was NOT a "for shock value" kind of thing.

some people are reeeeal quick to like get super defensive and jump onto this "omg it was for shock value! there was no other purpose! what bad writing! what a bad writer!" bandwagon when things they don't personally like or agree with happen on their favorite shows, but honestly not everything you don't like is "bad writing" or "just there for shock value" or "purposeless". maybe take a couple minutes to think critically about it and to like analyze the choice within the frame of the whole season and the whole show and its themes before making those kinds of (oftentimes baseless) accusations?

it's one thing to be upset with something that happened and to not like it, and it's another thing entirely to then blame it on bad writing or a clueless, vicious writer who doesn't care about their characters or their story or their audience.

[dinodogs]

Whoooo new comm post!! I'm in need of funds again, so thought it'd be nice to make an updated commissions post on here! Everything is open, and theres more options, add ons, and in detail examples on my k0-f!

Which you can find here

Reblogs and any donations are very greatly appreciated <3 Have a lovely day!

[eldrigeonsss]

Feeling saucy might sing the lyrics to Party Rock Anthem incorrectly and just see where the night takes me.

[hideaway-or-safehouse]

idk, im Non-Black, but every anime/manga edit or fan-art or cosplay i see making a character Black (think Satoru Gojo, Trafalgar Water D Law, Yor Forger, Qifrey, Hinata Hyuga, and so many more but those are the first I can think of) just... beats their original design. to me, at least. everytime. im just like "goddamn, you made a fun character to watch even MORE fun to look at". Black anime content creators are just magic, it's exactly like they say, jfc, never stop. you're re-writing every palm-colored anime/manga character in my brain you touch until im so re-wired that when im making my own anime and manga fan-content, im like "im gonna explitly write descriptors clarifying/draw this character as dark-skinned". like Law is a dark-skinned man with vitiligo, idk what you want me to say, so many of them just feels BETTER this way, like looking more themselves. idk how to explain it as a Non-Black person. but every time a Black anime fan says "🎶They're gonna be Black today🎶", i feel like that grandma from Mulan going like "wHAT ABOUT FOREVER??". let them be Blasian, when applicable (bc some of these characters are Fantasy-Ethnicities and/or Non-Asian afterall). let them be dark-skinned, add texture to their hair, yeah??? their re-designs (every variation btw, bc sometimes diff creators have diff ideas, in case that wasnt obvious) just slap so much harder than the og. to me. anyway. idk