#1827 definitely IMPRESSED me

[hoarart]

ah, poor demon

he is not responsible for his actions

[ineffable-suffering]

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

This is Part 2 of 3 total metas. Here are:

Part 1, in case you want to read about my analysis of the Story of Job first

and Part 3, in case you're impatient and want to jump ahead.

Fair warning though, for the sake of understanding some of the references, you're probably better off reading this chaptered meta chronologically. However, every part should work just as well as a standalone! I'll do my very best to make it so.

Alright, off or on you go beyond the cutty cut!

I'll start this second part off with a very brief summary of the main take aways and points from Part 1, which go as such:

Memory, as opposed to a third party's narration, is not a factual, objective retelling of a story or event. It's mingled and mangled with emotions, imaginations and exaggerations, projecting both the feelings and impressions you had back then as well as those you might have now in the present time back on whatever it is you are remembering. (Which is why we need to put everything that Aziraphale is remembering into the context of what he might have felt in the past, as well as what he's feeling right now.)

While this doesn't mean his (or anyone's) memories are lies, it does mean they're a very subjective and sometimes factually distorted representation of what actually happened, which, in our case, gives us a lot of subtext and a lot of not-there furniture to figure out and look at.

So, let's continue with S2E3 and the Story of wee Morag. We start our flashback with a scene of Aziraphale writing his diary entry on the 10th of November, 1827. Immediately, it's firmly established that this is once again not an outside-point-of-view narration, but rather what Aziraphale remembers and wrote down.

One thing that immediately stuck out to me here, is how helpful and kind Crowley is to Elspeth, pretty much from the very beginning when they meet her in the graveyard. Not only does he take on a Scottish accent so she won't perceive him as English (as she does with Aziraphale), but he also helps her drag the barrel that has the fresh body in it and, in the end, even pulls it all by himself while Elspeth simply follows behind them. Here's a rather poor-quality picture, for reference:

Now, we know that despite not showing it very often, Crowley has always been very fond of the humans and never really put himself on a pedestal simply because he's an immortal being himself. He likes humans, just like Aziraphale does. But, just like this story will tell us, Crowley knows that on top of liking humans, you can't just put them into boxes of good and evil and expect them to always do what is supposedly the "right" or "divinely good" thing to do. (Which is what differentiates him from Aziraphale in the way he understands and treats them, as we're shown in this minisode).

Him immediately and unspokenly helping Elspeth with dragging the barrel therefore might also be a first sign of a tiny projection from present day Aziraphale, as opposed to what Crowley might have actually done (probably just walked beside her, like Aziraphale) because he has the knowledge that Crowley really was so very kind to her in the end, wasn't he? And that he's kind to humans in general. ("Not kind! Off my head on Laudanum!" Sure, babe.)

Most of this minisode, in my opinion, is actually there to establish how Aziraphale's view of morality and good vs. evil used to be quite flawed and elitist –– and how Crowley has always been there to gently nudge him towards questioning his black and white view of heavenly right and hellishly wrong. That's why I think there's not as many hints in this minisode about Aziraphale's memories not being an accurate portrayal of what happened, as there are in the Story of Job or the magic show in 1941. (And, fear not, the latter will definitely be the most hint-heavy one). Alas, there's still a few bits and bobs in the Story of wee Morag that stuck out to me, that make a brief yet good case of the whole unreliable narration thing.

First of all: The way Aziraphale describes all of it in his diary is so different from the way we see him actually remembering it. It's almost like he tried to write this entry (and possibly all of his diary) as a bit of a thrilling short story, with himself as the main character. Which makes sense, given the fact that he adores books and would certainly be keen on dabbling in the art of capital-w Writing himself. It's yet again hinting at the fact that sometimes people (and angels) try to polish and bedazzle stories (and memories) to make them seem more exciting and adventurous, often to distract from the not-so-fun parts of it.

Like when Aziraphale's diary narrates:

"It was with heavy heart we arrived at Elspeth's destination. I was determined to thwart her monstrous plan!"

... and yet we see Crowley and Elspeth casually walking down the alleyway, very obviously not heavy-hearted in the slightest, while Aziraphale nervously scurries on behind them, very obviously not determined to thwart. (Timestamp-wise, it's around 17:38 in S2E3, in case you want to see for yourself.)

We get another cinematographic/auditory hint at the fact that Aziraphale's memory is heavily influenced by what he's feeling that very moment, when Dr. Mister Dalrymple –– FRCSE, thank you very much –– shows him the tumor he removed from the seven year old boy. You can see the shock and horror on Aziraphale's face once he learns of this child's cruel fate. We then proceed to hear Mr. Dalrymple's voice grow sort of echo-y and far away as the sad music swells up and drowns out his voice almost completely. It's awfully similar to what it feels like when really horrible news are broken to you and you dissociate and drift into a state of shock. Here's the clip of it, so you may listen for yourself:

It's clear that this is a very subjective portrayal of what Aziraphale is going through during this part of the memory. He's deeply horrified and saddened about the little boy having passed away so early in life – and we hear and feel this shock with him. Through him, because this is his memory. Whatever it is he's feeling and thinking, we're feeling and thinking it too because we're seeing it through his lense.

Another (less sad) hint at a possible exaggeration is the abnormally deep hole Crowley makes the two graveyard watch keepers fall into. I'm pretty sure he's very much in charge of his miracles, making this random slip-up seem a little silly – which is why I'm also pretty sure the "Might have slightly overdone it on that hole" is a wee bit of a meta hint at this just being another one of Aziraphale's dramatic bedazzlements of this story. For the *flings feather boa around neck* drama!

You know what else might be exaggerated? Hm, I dunno, maybe Crowley growing into the size of a tree for no apparent reason. Sure, yes, he's pretty high on Laudanum which is making him a bit loopy. But apart from that, it does seem an awfully big cinematographic euphemism for him being the metaphorical (and, once again, for the drama of it) literal bigger person in this scenario. He's the one who ends up saving Elspeth and who manages to secure a safe life without poverty and grave robbing for her. While Aziraphale was so tangled up in his own moral journey and main character-ism, missing that wee Morag was seconds away from death already, Crowley is the one who actually ends up growing stepping up for the human in need and saving them for good (pun intended).

In a way, it might just be Aziraphale's view of/feelings for Crowley in this very moment. Watching the demon outgrow what, according to Aziraphale's heavenly logic, is supposed to be a foul fiend, bestowing evil upon humanity – and growing into someone who does the exact opposite and saves Elspeth instead. Another larger-than-life character development, in Aziraphale's eyes. Literally.

Let's switch back to the topic of the diary entry one last time, so I can make my final point of the this minisode's unreliable and a smidge over-dramatic narration of Dr. McFell. If you pay close attention, Aziraphale starts the entry we're all getting to experience with: "Last month, Crowley and I both happened to be in Edinburgh." Which means it didn't actually happen on the 10th of November, but rather at some point in October, 1827. Once we see Crowley get hydro-pumped back to Hell after rescuing Elspeth, the minisode ends with, presumably, the last sentence of Aziraphale's diary entry: "And that was the last I would see of Crowley for quite some time."

Take my hand and let's look at where the furniture isn't: This very clearly means that Crowley couldn't have been gone for more than a month, at best. Read again: "It happened last month and that was the last I would see of him for quite some time." This, albeit indirectly, clearly implies that when Aziraphale had sat down to write the diary entry, he had already run into Crowley again. Otherwise his phrasing would have probably been more along the lines of "... and I haven't seen Crowley since" or "... and Crowley has yet to return from wherever it is Hell's currently keeping him".

What's the point I'm trying to make? Good question. I guess my main point of storyteller Aziraphale being a bit over-dramatic in his narration is simply backed up by this, since A Single Month would barely pass as "quite some time" for an immortal being like him. And yet that's how he puts it, in his little Confidential Journals of A.Z. Fell, Vol. 603.

And another point that has absolutely nothing to do with the topic of this meta (but I'm still gonna make it 'cause this is my memory post): The meeting at St. Jame's Park in 1862 that so many, post-S2, took to be their first run-in after the Story of wee Morag, actually wasn't that at all. They saw each other at least once only a month later, as Aziraphale's diary lets us know. Which explains why he wasn't very surprised or concerned when he met Crowley in London, 1862. If there really had been 35 years in between those two events, the first one ending with Crowley being sucked back Downstairs to receive more than three decades worth of hellish punishment, wouldn't Aziraphale have been at least a tiny bit worried or more interested than:

Just saying.

Alright, let's string this inflated hot air balloon of a post back together so we can outline some invisible furniture. This time with only two humble points:

Crowley through Aziraphale's lense Backed up by how we are introduced to Bildad the Shuhite in the Job minisode (suave, cheeky, smart, passionate in shoemaking and obstetrics), it's growing quite clear that Aziraphale's memories and impressions of Crowley are very fond and impressed ones. He sees him as someone who's not only witty, funny and cool, but also as someone who has figured out way sooner and faster than him that nothing's ever black and white. Not God's plans and not the human's choices either.

Aziraphale as a bit of an exaggerating adventure author With the direct parallel we get of inkslinger journalist!Aziraphale in the present day, it's quite apparent after this minisode that Aziraphale's memory is not only deeply influenced by his emotions, but that he also tends to have a bit of a dramatic touch to him. Although, you gotta give it to the guy: A month without seeing the love of your life, even if said life is eternal, can indeed seem like "quite some time".

Well, would you lookie here, we've reached the end of Part 2! What a journey it was. I hope you forgive me for the fact that I drifted off-course a few times. I just can't seem to reel in my silly little observations, even if they've got nothing to do with the point I'm trying to make. But hey, doesn't that just make me a little bit like Aziraphale's storytelling, in a way?

I'll let you be the judge of that.

See you in Part 3! And in case you haven't snuck a peak yet: here's Part 1 again.

Ta!

[mimicofmodes]

“The Ladies Waldegrave” by Joshua Reynolds, 1780 (NGS NG2171)

I’ve complained before about two very big pet peeves of mine - corset stuff and Regency women being dressed in 1770s-1780s clothes - but one that may dwarf them because of how frequently it comes up in historical and fantasy fiction is the oppression of embroidery.

That’s probably putting it a bit too strongly. It’s more like ... the annoyance of embroidery. Every character worth reading about knows instinctively that sewing is a) boring, b) difficult, c) mindless, and d) pointless. The author doesn’t have to say anything more than “Belinda threw down her needlework and looked out the window, sighing,” to signal that this is an independent woman whose values align with the modern reader, who’s probably not really understood by her mother or mother figure, and who probably will find an extraordinary man to “match” her rather than settling for someone ordinary. To look at an example from fantasy, GRRM uses embroidery in the very beginning of A Game of Thrones to show that the Stark sister who dislikes it is sympathetic and interesting, while the Stark sister who is competent at it is boring and conventional and obviously not deserving of a PoV (until later books, when her attention gets turned to higher matters); further into the book, of course, the pro-needlework sister proves to be weak-willed and naïve.

Rozsika Parker, in the groundbreaking 1996 work The Subversive Stitch, noted that “embroidery has become indelibly associated with stereotypes of femininity,” which is the core of the issue. "Instead embroidery and a stereotype of femininity have become collapsed into one another, characterised as mindless, decorative and delicate; like the icing on the cake, good to look at, adding taste and status, but devoid of significant content.” 

Parker also points out that the stereotype isn’t just one that was invented in the present day by feminists who hated the idea of being forced to do a certain craft. “The association between women and embroidery, craft and femininity, has meant that writers concerned with the status of women have often turned their attention towards this tangled, puzzling relationship. Feminists who have scorned embroidery tend to blame it for whatever constraint on women's lives they are committed to combat. Thus, for example, eighteenth-century critical commentators held embroidery responsible for the ill health which was claimed as evidence of women's natural weakness and inferiority.”

There are two basic problems I have with the trope, beyond the issue of it being incredibly cliché:

First: needlework was not just busywork

A big part of what drives the stereotype is the impression that what women were embroidering was either a sampler:

sampler embroidered by Jane Wilson, 14, in 1791 (MMA 2010.47)

or a picture:

unfinished embroidery of David and Abigail, British, 1640s-50s (MMA 64.101.1325)

That is, something meant to hang on the wall for no real purpose.

These are forms of schoolwork, basically. Samplers were made by young girls up to their early teens, and needlework pictures were usually something done while at school or under a governess as a showpiece of what was being learned - not just the stitching itself, but also often watercolors (which could be worked into the design), artistic sensibility, and the literature, history, or art that might be alluded to. And many needlework pictures made in schools were also done as mourning pieces, sometimes blank, for future use, and sometimes to commemorate a recent death in the family. A lot of them are awkward, clearly just done to pass the class, but others are really artwork.

Many schools for middle- and upper-class girls taught the making of these objects (and other “ornamental” subjects) alongside a more rigorous curriculum - geography, Latin, chemistry, etc. At some, sewing was also always accompanied by serious reading and discussion. (And it would often be done while someone read aloud or made conversation later in life, too.)

Once done with their education, women generally didn’t bother with purely decorative work. Some things that fabric could be embroidered for included:

Jackets 

Bed coverings and bedcurtains

Collars and undersleeves 

Pelerines 

Neck handkerchiefs and sleeve ruffles 

Screens

Upholstery

Handkerchiefs

Purses, wallets, and reticules

Boxes

Book covers

Plus other articles of clothing like waistcoats, caps, slippers, gown hems, chemises, etc. Women’s magazines of the nineteenth century often gave patterns and alphabets for personal use.

(Not to mention late nineteenth century female artists who worked in embroidery, but that’s something else.)

You could purchase all of these pre-embroidered, but many, many women chose to do it themselves. There are a number of reasons why: maybe they wanted something to do, maybe they felt like they should be doing needlework for moral/gender reasons, maybe they couldn’t afford to buy anything - and maybe they enjoyed it or wanted to give something they made to a person they loved. That firescreen above was embroidered by Marie Antoinette, someone who had any number of other activities to choose from. It’s no different than people today who like to knit their own hats and gloves or bake their own bread, except that it was way more mainstream.

embroidery patterns from Ackermann’s Repository in 1827 - they could be used on dresses, collars, handkerchiefs, etc.

Second: needlework wasn’t the only “useless” thing women were expected to do

Ignoring the bulk of point one for now and the value of embroidery - I mentioned “ornamental subjects” above. As many people know, young women of the upper and middle classes were expected to be “accomplished” in order to be seen as marriageable. This could include skills like embroidery, drawing, painting, singing, playing the piano (as well as other instruments, like the harp or the mandolin), speaking French (if not also Italian and/or German), as well as broader knowledge and abilities like being well-versed in music, literature, and poetry, dancing and walking gracefully, writing good letters in an elegant hand, and being able to read out loud expressively and smoothly.

This wasn’t a checklist. As the famous discussion in Pride and Prejudice shows, individuals could have different views on what actually made a woman accomplished:

“How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.”

“It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.”

“All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?”

“Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.”

“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished.”

“Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley.

“Then,” observed Elizabeth, “you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman.”

“Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it.”

“Oh! certainly,” cried his faithful assistant, “no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved.”

“All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”

Mr. Bingley feels that a woman is accomplished if she has the ability to do a number of different arts and crafts. Miss Bingley feels (or says she feels) that it goes beyond specific skills and into branches of artistic attainment, plus broader personal qualities that could be imparted by well-bred governesses or mothers. And Mr. Darcy, of course, agrees with that but adds an academic angle as well.

But what ties all of these accomplishments together is their lack of value on the labor market. A woman could earn a living with any one accomplishment, if she worked hard enough at it to become a professional, but young ladies weren’t supposed to be professional-level good because they by definition weren’t going to earn a living. All together, they trained a woman for the social and domestic role of a married woman of the upper middle or upper class, or, if she couldn’t get married, a governess or teacher who would share her accomplishments with the next generation.

(To be fair, almost none of the trappings of an upper-middle/upper class male education had anything to do with the kind of career training that college frequently is today, either. Men were educated to know the cultural touchpoints of their class and fit in with their peers.)

There are reasons that an individual person/character might specifically object to embroidery, but it was far from the only “useless” thing that an unconventional heroine would be required to do against her inclination by her conventional mother/grandmother/aunt/chaperone. Embroidery stands out to modern audiences because most of the other accomplishments are now valued as gender-neutral arts and skills.

“The Embroidery Frame”, by Mathilde Weil, ca. 1900 (LOC 98501309)

So, some thoughts for writers of historical fiction (or fantasy that’s supposed to be just like the 19th/18th/17th/etc century):

- If your heroine doesn’t like embroidery, she probably doesn’t like a number of other things she’s expected to do. Don’t pull out embroidery as either more expected or more onerous than them. Does she hate to sit still? I’d imagine she also dislikes drawing and practicing the piano. Would she prefer to do academic subjects? She probably also resents learning French instead of Latin, and music and dancing. Does she hate enforced femininity? Then she’d most likely have a problem with all of the accomplishments.

- If your heroine just and specifically doesn’t like embroidery, try to show in the narrative that that’s not because it’s objectively bad, and only able to be liked by the boring. Have another sympathetic character do it while talking to the heroine. Note that the hero carries a flame-stitched wallet that’s his sister’s work. Emphasize the heroine’s emotional connection to her deceased or absent mother through her affection for clothing or upholstery that her mother embroidered - or through a mourning picture commemorating her. There are all kinds of things you can do to show that it’s a personal preference rather than a stupid craft that doesn’t take talent and skill!

mourning picture for Daniel Goodman, probably embroidered by a Miss Goodman, 1803 (MMA 56.66)

[manuscripts-dontburn]

Darkdawn

Author: Jay Kristoff

First published: 2019

Rating: ★★★☆☆

A satisfying enough ending to an elaborate revenge story, that I enjoyed but there is no denying this is hardly quality literature. In any case, I was more interested in this than the second volume, which just dragged. What cuts the book in its knees especially is the unnecessary, artless baseness with which the physical love, as well as physical suffering, is treated throughout. I do love Mr Kindly though. Also, all the points to the book designer.

The Dutch House

Author: Ann Patchett

First published: 2019

Rating: ★★★★☆

A book about relationships, familial loyalty, hurts and the possibility of forgiveness. Beautifully written, but one should beware there is not much of a plot. An ideal book for a quiet, calm afternoon as you sip a large cup of delicious tea.

The Book Smugglers

Author: Anna James

First published: 2021

Rating: ★★★★★

Yet more delightful goodness from Anna James. This is the ultimate book-loving series for kids to fall in love with reading! Every volume is just lovely and I feel like falling into it likeinto a comfortable blanket.

Katia: Wife Before God

Author: Alexandre Tarsaïdzé

First published: 1970

Rating: ★★★☆☆

The main strength of this publication is the many letters, presented without shortening, that were exchanged between Alexander II and his beloved "Katya". that said the author made some maddening decisions of inserting a million footnotes which should never have been footnoted, but information incorporated into the main text. The rest of the footnotes are often so random and unrelated that they baffled me (what good is it to me to know a distant relation of a random courtier mentioned in the book was living in the US in the 60s?). Add to it that there are some inaccuracies regarding names and ages, and all that remains is my ardent wish that this should have been just a published correspondence.

The Betrothed

Author: Alessandro Manzoni

First published: 1827

Rating: ★★★☆☆

I am in two minds about this one. On the one hand, the whole thing is incredibly slow, the characters rather superfluous and their plight left me cold. On the other hand, when the author decides to leave those characters behind and instead focuses on the historical events and general populace, I was hooked and truly impressed and felt both compassion as well as horror. The parts dealing with the war and plague were actually incredible. (And oh gosh! The parallels of the populace reacting to it were too similar to our own experiences with covid it just hit me right in the face how unchanging humans are throughout the ages!) I understand the characters are needed for us to travel with them, but in the end, this is the story of a region, not the two lovers and their friends/enemies.

Daughters of Chivalry: The Forgotten Children of King Edward Longshanks

Author: Kelcey Wilson-Lee

First published: 2019

Rating: ★★★★★

Fantastic, immensely readable family portrait from the depth of the medieval age! Stands to show that even though their voices are often so muffled by the male censure of history, the women of the past centuries (even if only the ones born into privilege) were very much present during pivotal moments, wielded influence and claimed their own spaces.

The Last Graduate

Author: Naomi Novak

First published: 2021

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

*deep sigh* The whole idea of this is great. The characters all have potential. It is definitely something that just deserved a tighter approach or a merciless editor. The amount of pages where the main character just goes on and on and on about things we already know is just devastatingly high. I love Naomi Novik´s previous books and I really was intrigued by Scholomance, but unfortunately reading should not feel like a chore and this book felt exactly like one.

The Pillars of the Earth

Author: Ken Follet

First published: 1989

Rating: ★★★★☆

There is absolutely no better review of this book than THIS ONE.

The Nature of Witches

Author: Rachel Griffin

First published: 2021

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Look, there is nothing particularly wrong with this book, but I was bored out of my mind for most of it. This is a great pity because the idea of "seasonal" witches definitely struck me as new and original and the writing itself was not half bad either. And the shallow me loved the cover. However, there really is no plot unless you count a very vanilla and done-to-death romantic relationship.

999: The Extraordinary Young Women of the First Official Jewish Transport to Auschwitz

Author: Heather Dune Macadam

First published: 2020

Rating: ★★★★★

Why would anyone ever be content with any fictional book about Holocaust, when there are nonfiction books like this out there? Beautifully, and sensitively put together to commemorate a specific group of young women who suffered in Auschwitz, this is a dignified tribute to those who died and those who survived.

The Adventures of Pinocchio

Author: Carlo Collodi

First published: 1883

Rating: ★★★☆☆

A wild trip of imagination that somehow did not make me feel like I was on drugs (looking at you Alice in Wonderland), had some genuinely laugh out loud moments and delicious sarcasm sprinkled on top. Is it the best children´s classic I know? Not, but I would choose Pinocchio over Peter Pan any day.

[berryshallbe]

KHRbookmarkfics3

This is connected to the others [Part1] , Part2] , [Part 3], [Part4]

me is very desperate indeed.

#ONESHOTS

dead anime moms by exorca

A Not-Quite Sixth Sense by AthanatosOra

Indulge me by exorca

Baby Carnivore by IceMelody [child!fic]

Recall by Metamorcy [X27]

What’s in a name by exorca

The Sky is Black During Twilight by exorca [starring tsuna“i’m done”-as-bella]

anchor me to the shore (don't let me go) by CreepingSoul [child!fic]

Quality by ChaoticFairy (Amanda908565) [varia27]

if you get eaten by hyugesoo [dark!27]

Definitively, Decidedly Dangerous and Deadly by ravenromance27

The Rebirth of Tsunayoshi Sawada by ShamelessDilettante [dimenstrav]

Godling by wolfsrainrules [demigod!27, Iemitsu-is-actually-Apollo]

The Rings by wolfsrainrules [Gladiator!AU]

When The Nightingale Sings by Sanjuno [Dragonskies!AU, Dragon!27]

Mafia King by erimies [onepieceXover, Luffy-is-Tsuna]

Christmas With the Vongolas by skygem [featuring 1stgen- 10thgen vongola]

Can't Fool Me by Bird of Dreams [parallel!AU]

Bleeding Out by Little_Miss_Bunny [Apocalypse!AU]

#MORESHOTS (2shot, 3shot, or 4shot)

For Science! by Melfice13 [Twoshot, 100centric, aniki!100, fem!27]

Limitation of a Dark Sky by Windying [Twoshots, Supernatural!AU, twin!fic, dark!27, multi-fandom]

Beast Rising by wolfrainrules [Twoshots] !!!

A Cat's Solitary by alternative_ann [Twoshots, sibling!fic] !!!

if the shoe fits by misoriri [Twoshots, biting!27]

Childish Whims by skygem [Threeshot, child!27]

❀ CHEER UP!! ❀ by li2 [Threeshot, MagicalGirl!AU, MagicalKid!27]

Tsuna's Bucket List by Master_Procrastinator [Threeshot, TYL, Arco!27,]

Good Reasons Why by blueglass [Threeshot, Vampire!27]

It's An Acquired Taste by Ourliazo [Threeshot, RFon, Ghoul!AU, Accidental GhoulBaby Acquisition]

The Hunger Within by familymatters [Fourshot, Vampire!27, Child!fic, Tsuna eats Flames instead of Blood]

LYING IS BAD FOR THE SOUL by Hayato (TheLennyBunny) [Fourshots, Tsuna-being-the-bloodson-of-Primo]

Unrelenting Fate by keimichi [Threeshot, dark!27]

Top of the Food Chain by skygem [Fourshots]

R27

Under the Winged Sky by Crimsonfang33 [Supernatural!AU, Fem!27, Phoenix!27]

Story of an Author by RenegadeWarrior [writer!27, multiple!R]

Steal the Sun by languide [crossdressing!27, slowburn]

Chroma Diamonds by Brick (themikeymonster) [unreliable narrator, Self-cest!27]

Colors of the Heart by Usagi_Baka [AU]

Falling off the Arc by Arithra [timetrav,Oneshots]

Present In the Past by MintyBubba

Lascivious by Ourliazo [Vampire Hunter!27, Vampire!AU, 4 Hibaris as Vamps]

Control by Metamorcy [Threeshots]

First Impressions are Often Entirely Wrong by ChaoticFairy (Amanda908565) [Oneshots]

To the Beat of My Own Drum by Seito [fake/pretend relationship, College!AU, Threeshots]

1827 +kyoko/haru

what never was by HeavenlyDusk [Threeshots, personal assistant!27, non-mafiosio!27, the three heirs still alive!AU]

Cryptid Namimori by Sawadoot [DC!27]

Trophy Husband by HeavenlyDusk [Oneshots]

#HPXOVER

Chaos in the Blood by Sefiru [Hari-is-Reborn’s grandson]

Slip Up by northpeach, wolfsrainrules [Hari-is-Skull]

The Magician by ValloryRussups [Oneshots, dimenstrav]

Desenrascanço by Enso_Eternal [Bigbro!Hari, Hari was a child soldier and he will make damn sure that doesn't happen to tsuna and his friends ] !!!

Trading Yesterday by Shadowblayze [Arcosky!Hari] !!!

Burn So Bright by silenceia [Oneshots, Giotto-is-Hari|      

Hearth Fire (Welcome Home)  by stapling_pages [Tom-is-Tsuna’s-bigbro]    

Little Bit Broken by stormflame89 [Hari-is-Skull]

We Drift Freely Onwards by Applepie [Hari-is-Skull]  

Don't Find Me by Akua [HariSKL]       

Jigsaw Puzzle of the Sky by Shiyaki [RHari]   

we are the poisoned youth by Seito     ?

Raiju by jeleania [Twoshots, Hari-is-Tsuna’s-firstfriend]      

Like The Tide by Ourliazo [Twoshots, Pre-Arco Curse, Mod!Hari-adopting-brat!R]

Forged In Flame by  Reighost  [varia!cloudy!Hari] 

Of Science and Lightning by  CaptivatingLadySpinel [Hari-is-Verde’spawn]

Harry Potter and His Fedora Wearing Hitman by Withmaximumeffort [mod!Hari-adopts-Tsuna, RHari]

The Reason Why by JDGambit [fourshots, mod!HariSKL]

Sending Out Flares by Elandil [Skyarco!Hari]

The Varia's Hairdresser by Starchains [hairdresser!Hari]

\Backslash by Jorie2127 (Flight_orFight) [phoenix!Hari]

Hemp Flowers Meant Fate by MufuMufuSan [Arcosky!Hari, Mutated Form of Hanahaki Disease!AU]

Death's Reward by sphinxymae [fem!Hari-is-Tsuna’sis]

#MARVELXOVER

Iron Spark by Elena_Parker [twoshots, Tony-is-Tsuna]

Italian Roots by DearCat [fem!toni-is-Xanxus’sis, threeshots]

A Troublesome Lightning To Adopt by moonlightcarol [Oneshots, Tsuna-is-Tony’s-Legal Guardian-somehow]

Vigilant Spider? More Like Guardian Angel by Anonymous [reincarnated, Tsuna-is-PeterParker]

#MISCELLENEOUS

Guns and knitting needles by AmbroiseFramboise [DC!27]

The Menagerie by zegez [animal cast!AU]

Apathy by KlonoaDreams [SI!fem!27, DC!27]

Blackbird by jadetiger27 [twin!fic, hint!1827]

Don't Hold Your Breath (we're gonna live) by SilverRoseAri [Apocalypse!AU]

Nothing More by skygem [child!fic, ghostfathers!1st gen]

Have Your Cake (and Eat It Too) by Ramabear (RyMagnatar) [Ghoul!AU]

Mystic Eyes by Nika Raven Celeste [semi-psycho!27]

Inheritors of Flame by Kyogre [MMO!AU,VRgamer!27]

Hiraeth by ReiLarroca [sibling!fic, gen!fic]

Mafia Row by Phantom Hitman 1412 [Parenting!Arco, Child!fic]

Another Path by DragonflyDream [twin!fic, non-mafiosio!27] !!!

Dame-Tsuna, Right? by Nobody_Inhere [smart!27]

yesterday's tomorrow by orphan_account [timetrav]

The Final Boss by Sakhyu [Gamer!fem!27, genderbend]

Sunny Skies Ahead by Ourliazo [secondary sky!R, Pre-Arco Curse]

Vongola Style by Ourliazo [Collection of Unrelated Stories]

Don't Hold Your Breath (we're gonna live) by SilverRoseAri [Apocalypse!AU]

The Leóne Decimo by Zsterwriter14 [Shifter!AU]

Amber by Enigmatree [child!fic, Omniscient!27]

On Heaven and Earth by QuinsValoria [AjinXover, Ajin!27, Dead Dove]

Sass and Win by AlligatorEyes [SI/OC, SI!twin of tsuna, Twin!fic, RInari] !!!

novaturient by woofio [SI/OC, Pre-Arco Curse, OC!HibariRyo]

[shittystockholmstyles]

New Girl in Town || Sad Eyes

Gif by @merakiaes

Request @princesamorenitaxo

Summary: There’s a new girl in town and Sad Eyes takes an interest in her but can he convince her that he is looking for more than just a hook up?

Warnings: language

Word Count: 1827

A/N: Tried our a different writing style, hope you like it! Really enjoyed writing this! Also had to throw my dream car in the story.

“Ya’ll see that new hyna that moved in down the street?” Joker said as he took a hit of his blunt. A few of the guys nodded to say they had seen her, Sad Eyes included.

He had watched the new girl move into Doña Maria’s house a few days ago. The first thing that had caught his eye was her car, a classic, cherry red, ’72 Chevelle. He watched as the car drove down the street and pulled into the driveway a few houses down, he continued to watch as the finest hyna he had ever seen stepped out of the driver’s side, pulled a suitcase out of the car and disappeared into the house. Sad Eyes had hoped to see her again, maybe he’d get a chance to actually talk to her.

“Yo there she is,” Joker said, pulling Sad Eyes back to the present. He watched the girl walking on the other side of the street, she was dressed for the warm weather in denim shorts and a tank top, and was walking with Doña Maria’s young daughter.

The guys started hollering at her causing her to glance over at them before tightening her grip on the younger girl and picking up her pace. Sad Eyes considered going over and trying to talk to her but before he could decide Oso had already started making his way across the street.

Sad Eyes couldn’t hear what was being said but he watched as the girl’s face went from passive to angry, she flipped Oso off before storming away. Oso made his way back to the front yard of the Santo house and sat on the beat up couch.

“Damn Oso, that hyna looked hella pissed what’d you say to her homes?” Sad Eyes asked.

Oso smirked as he answered, “I asked her when she was gonna let me get it in”

All of the guys laughed.

Y/N knew she should have listened to her aunt and taken her car to the store but it was only two blocks away and she had insisted on walking, getting familiar with the neighborhood she was now living in. So her and her younger cousin had started walking, she was completely oblivious to the yard full of men at least until they started hollering at her, attempting to get her attention. Then that guy just had to come up to her and tell her he could show her “a good time.” Y/N was pissed, normally she just brushed stuff like that off but he really had the nerve to say that shit in front of her 13 year old cousin.

The rest of the walk was quiet, Y/N trying to get control of her anger. They reached the store and walked inside, Y/N walked up and down the aisles placing things into her basket. After paying, the two girls began their trip back to the house. Y/N slowed her pace as they neared the corner, up ahead the same group of men were still sitting outside.

“We can go the long way if you want?” Y/N’s cousin, Celia, said looking at her.

“Do you want to take the long way?” Y/N asked.

Celia made a face, “Not really, but I know that guy made you mad.”

Y/N nodded her head but before she could respond somebody behind them called out “Celia!”

The girls turned to see two guys who looked to be around Celia’s age walking toward them. As they reached them the boys each hugged Celia.

“How’s eighth grade going?” The taller of the two asked.

“It’s alright, kind of boring without you guys around. How’s High school?” Celia said.

“It’s good” the boys said very quickly and as they avoided eye contact.

“Who’s your friend?” The shorter boy asked.

“This is my cousin Y/N. She just moved in with us a few days ago.” Celia said, smiling. She was really excited to have Y/N around, it was like having an older sister.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Ruben” the shorter kid said as he tried to kiss the back off Y/N’s hand.

“Stop it Ruby! I’m Cesar, nice to meet you” the other kid said as he smacked Ruby’s arm.

Y/N laughed at the kids and told them it was nice to meet them too. As a group they started walking home, Y/N not realizing they were going to pass the the Santo house until it was already too late. The catcalling started up again, but Y/N refused to look. The group listened as several guys shouted obscenities her way.

Cesar rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Well, I’ll see you guys, it was nice to meet you Y/N!”

Y/N watched as Cesar made his way across the street and sat on a couch in the front lawn, her eyes drifted over to the guy he sat next to. Their eyes met and he gave a soft smile and waved to her.

A deep voice on the other side of the yard called out, “damn Mami, why don’t you come hang for a minute?” Y/N looked to see the same guy who had tried to talk to her earlier. With a scowl on her face she flipped the guy off and stormed off toward her house, dragging Celia along.

Sad Eyes watched the girl grab her cousin and walk back toward their house. Sometimes he couldn’t help but admit that his homies were dicks. They were always talking about smashing some hyna and he had to admit that he acted the same way but this time it really bothered him, the way they talked about Y/N. Sad Eyes didn’t really know why he was so irritated, he didn’t even know the girl.

“I’m heading out, see ya compa.” Sad Eyes said to Spooky before getting in his car and driving home. He couldn’t get Y/N’s face out of his mind, she was definitely attractive and even when she was pissed she looked cute.

A few days later, Sad Eyes stopped by the corner store to pick up a few things. As he made his way down one of the aisles he heard the bell ring, signaling the door was opening. Sad Eyes glanced back at the door and watched Y/N walk into the store, she was wearing a simple yellow sundress.. Sad Eyes watched her make her way toward the back of the store where the cold stuff was kept. He made his way down the aisle until he was standing next to Y/N.

Sad Eyes cleared his throat, “Hey.” He said smiling at her.

Y/N glanced over at him, curiously at first then in irritation as she recognized him from the other day on the yard. “You come to ask me if I’m going to sleep with you too?” She said, crossing her arms.

Sad Eyes was shocked at her question and didn’t know how to respond. Y/N nodded her head, grabbed a six pack of Modelo and walked up to the cashier. Sad Eyes stared after her in shock at her bold question. As Y/N made her way toward the door Sad Eyes forced himself forward and went after her. He caught up to Y/N just as she was unlocking her car.

“I was actually wondering if you’d maybe want to go out sometime?” Sad Eyes said, shoving his hands into his pockets. He had no idea why he was so nervous, maybe it was the intensity in the way Y/N was staring at him.

“Oh really?” Y/N said as she turned to face him, she raised an eyebrow, “you also wondering if I put out on a first date?”

At Sad Eyes’ silence Y/N continued, “cause the answer is no, I don’t. So there’s no need for you to waste your time.” She turned back to her car.

Sad Eyes moved closer, “or maybe I was just wondering if you’d like to get dinner, and maybe give me a chance to get to know you?” He said.

Y/N laughed, “get to know me? Nah I don’t think so.”

“So you don’t want to go out?” Sad Eyes asked. He was kind of hurt at her rejection.

“Why should I? What makes you any different from your little homies?” Y/N asked, curiosity getting the best of her. She couldn’t help but wonder why he was still talking to her after she’d made it clear she wasn’t going to put out.

“Cause I think you’re cute and we could have a lot of fun together.” Sad Eyes said, shrugging, hands still stuffed in his pockets.

Y/N scoffed, “that doesn’t sound like it makes you any different to me.” As she opened her car door, Y/N heard Sad Eyes mumble something else. “What was that?” She said looking back at him. Sad Eyes avoided her gaze and instead stared down at the ground. “What’d you say?” She asked again.

Sad Eyes looked up at Y/N, he used one hand to nervously rub the back of his neck. Finally he spoke, “I said you make me hella nervous but I’d like to get to know you better.”

Y/N’s face softened a bit, maybe she had judged this guy a little too quickly, “Friday night” she said.

“What?” Sad Eyes said, looking confused.

“You can pick me up for our date Friday night” Y/N said.

“Really?” Sad Eyes said, a smile forming on his face.

“Yes, really.” Y/N said as she started getting into her car.

Sad Eyes turned to leave but then remembered, “wait,” he said, “maybe we should exchange numbers?”

Y/N nodded her head and held out her phone. Sad Eyes walked over and grabbed it out of her hand an gave his to her so she could add her number.

After handing their phones back, Y/N looked down at his contact in her phone “Sad Eyes?” She said in a questioning tone.

“Yeah that’s me” he said smiling at her.

“You got a real name, cause I know your mama didn’t name you that” Y/N said, laughing.

Sad Eyes laughed along with Y/N, “yeah, uh it’s Antonio” he said.

Y/N smiled, “Antonio,” she said, testing the name out, “I like it. It fits you”

Sad Eyes smiled back at Y/N and moved closer to her car. He was excited she agreed to go out with him but nervous at the idea of planning something good enough to impress her and maybe make her want a second date. He couldn’t believe he was already thinking about a second date, and a third, hell a whole relationship with this girl he barely knew, all he had to do was get her to believe he was serious about this, that it could be more than just sex for him.

He reached his hand out and brushed a few loose strands of Y/N’s hair back behind her ear, “Friday, Hermosa.” And with that he watched as she drove off, out of the parking lot, he couldn’t wait for Friday.

Tag list

@simply-skin-deep @briannab1234 @trulysuccubus @princesamorenitaxo @bbgisgolden

[centrifuge-politics]

Brick Club 5.5.2

Welcome to another Hugonian tangent on my part. I am the Victor Hugo of Brick Club. I’m going to hop into the chapter halfway because the cut is just an offensively long look into literally a single line à la my research in the eight pound cannon last volume. So if you have any interest in medical(?) care(??) in pre-germ theory Europe, specifically the use of the mentioned “chloruretted lotions,” by all means read my essay.

First of all, it took me ages to figure out what this illustration reminded me of but I got it:

Gillenormand continues to rankle me in a powerful way, the shriveled bastard. “M. Gillenormand did not permit anybody to explain to him—” yeah, because heaven forbid anyone with actual expertise explain anything to a rich royalist old man. I’m so glad he gets to be happy and unburdened considering he’s the fount from which literally all of Marius’s woes sprang from to begin with. Poor bourgeosie has been sad and grumpy in his manor home while Marius was nearly driven to suicide but all’s well now, I suppose! You heard it here first, folks, everything is Gillenormand’s fault. No, I will not be taking constructive criticism.

Gillenormand’s unearned joy is sharply contrasted with Marius’s grave reservation. He’s very much in a state of shell shock—“the whole affair of the Rue de la Chanvrerie was like a cloud in his memory; shadows, almost indistinct, were floating in his mind…he understood nothing in regard to his own life”—and instead of dwelling on his inability to process what just happened, Marius is clinging to the idea of Cosette, of life, of the future. “Let us emphasise one point here: he was not won over, and was little softened by all the solicitude and all the tenderness of his grandfather.” Good! Fucking excellent, because Gillenormand has proven himself to solely operate in his own interest and he will discard anyone who isn’t immediately useful to him with little thought. It’s immeasurably satisfying to see Marius turn and leverage himself against Gillenormand in service of his own interests for once.

I have done my due diligence, now onto what I really want to talk about: when we thought bleach was medicine and used it on Marius.

Marius’s wound gets horribly infected (natch) and “it was not without difficulty that the chloruretted lotions and the nitrate of silver brought the gangrene to an end.” Silver nitrate I recognize, its caustic properties mean it can be used as a topical antiseptic, although it’s no one’s first choice today. Despite being a clear liquid solution, it will also permanently stain the top layer of your skin brown if you come into contact. This fades fairly quickly as your skin naturally exfoliates away, in about a week or so from personal experience.

I was much more intrigued by, first of all the word ‘chloruretted,’ and second of all what kind of chlorine compounds would be used as treatments for infection in 1832. I went googling and found an illuminating article from 1827 titled, “The Chlorurets of Oxide of Sodium and of Lime, As Disinfectants” by Thomas Alcock (as well as a subsequent review of this article from The Lancet the same year which is amusingly awful). I’m going to start with some definitions and then I very much wanted to talk about this article that is only barely tangentially related to the situation. Sorry.

Chloruret is an archaic translation of clorure which is just the French word for chloride. Chloruret seems to have been used to refer to not only chlorides but chlorates and hypochlorites as well, which is, uh, not a great system because sodium hypochlorite, sodium chloride, and sodium chlorate are bleach, table salt, and herbicide respectively and, it goes without saying, very different! So I’m doing some guessing in context as to what compound these authors are referring to. Chloruret of lime is the compound calcium hypochlorite (CaClO)—which you might find today in swimming pools—and I believe chloruret of soda is just sodium hypochlorite (NaClO) which is slightly confusing because this is the exact same compound as chloruret of oxide of sodium. I have a 0.5% solution of NaClO in my bathroom right now to clean my shower with, this is what we colloquially call bleach.

All of these chloruret compounds were known to prevent decay, but it’s unclear if anybody really knew why, which leads to a couple of highly questionable recommendations from Alcock and his contemporaries. Alcock begins his article relating how chloruret of lime or soda was used to slow the decay of corpses for identification and investigation as well as to disinfect hospital equipment, sick-rooms, sewer systems, anything. Alcock and his reviewers didn’t have a concept of bleaching agents, but Alcock observes “both the chloruret of lime and of the oxide of sodium have the disadvantage of discolouring the muscles when applied to them.” Additionally, this article was written before germ theory supplanted the miasma theory of disease and Alcock continually recommends the use of chlorurets “in destroying putrescent and infectious effluvia” with the belief that clearing out a bad smell would also purify the ‘bad’ air spreading disease and infection. He actually has an entire section relating cases from French doctors where chloruret of lime cured “asphyxia” caused by breathing the Parisian sewer fumes.

The reason chlorine bleach works as a disinfectant is because it pretty indiscriminately kills organic material by destroying proteins on a molecular level. This is great when you’re just wiping down operating tables and hospital rooms, but very bad when you start applying bleach to living, organic patients. Alcock quotes a French medical report recommending “Applications of the chlorureted water to be made to the buboes, the carbuncles, and the gangrenes of persons labouring under the plague” which isn’t the worst idea considering antibiotics are over a century away but also “Water containing half a dram or one dram of the concentrated chloruret of oxide of sodium to each pint, to be given to the patients afflicted with plague as their common drink.” It probably goes without saying, but this will not cure infection or plague or anything except the condition of having intact stomach lining. There is no good reason to ingest hypochlorite in any form, despite the section titled “On the Internal Use of the Chloruret of Soda.” Do not drink bleach.

The next section is a series of gruesome anecdotes of hospitalized patients who were cured of gangrene in every imaginable body part using chloruret of soda. Alcock, despite constantly mentioning how disgusting this all is, takes a certain amount of satisfaction in vividly describing just how horrific each infection presented before bleach swooped in to save the day. To skim, gangrene is when body tissue dies, in this case due to some sort of bacterial infection. Avoiding anything too graphic, dead tissue rots and this is bad and will send you into septic shock.

This brings us, unfortunately, back to poor Marius. Who has been dragged through an effluvious sewer with open wounds and now has gangrene. Alcock relates an account that might be comparable, that of a boy with an infected wound on his cheek, closest to Marius’s grazing head wound. The treatment was “a solution of the chloruret, in the proportion of one part to six of water” applied directly to the wound and dressings. This apparently worked very well, the infection cleared out “and the surfaces granulating kindly.” So Marius, despite needing sections of dead skin cut away, might not even have too much of a scar from his head wound, although it would be kind of badass, wouldn’t it? Can I see Marius with a gnarly face scar from a) being shot and b) being slathered in bleach?

Second, he was shot in the shoulder through and through. This might present more of a problem because the wound goes pretty deep near some pretty vital areas and sepsis is a major concern because we don’t have antibiotics and, lord, how did Marius actually survive this? Alcock provides an example of “a case of punctured wound received in dissection…the patient experienced immediate relief from the diluted chloruret of oxide of sodium [NaClO], used as a lotion, combined with free use of leeches.” A winning combination and “the patient recovered without any untoward circumstance.” This has got to at least leave a significant patch of discolored skin from the repeated application of bleach, if not an impressive scar to boot. Hugo specifically says nothing of this, but sodium hypochlorite solutions were apparently also frequently injected at infection sites for deeper wounds or more internal infections, specifically in the bladder, the uterus, and, oddly enough, the nose for atrophic rhinitis). I get that everyone was working with what they had but…bleach injections is a challenging concept.

A final, indulgence; the subsequent review of Alcock’s article in The Lancet is absolutely laughable as a modern reader. It’s three and a half pages long and its criticism basically amounts to: yeah, chlorurets are great and all, but salt does the exact same thing so this is useless. It’s so smugly dismissive of Alcock’s terminology, his case presentation, and the usefulness of even exploring the applications of chlorurets that it borders on anti-intellectual. And, in the process, is so blatantly wrong about chemistry and medicine that it reads like parody today. “Chloruret of soda, to use for once Mr. Alcock’s nomenclature, is a ‘disinfecting agent,’ and preserves animal substances;—common salt preserves animal substances, but has it been proved that it is not a disinfecting agent?” The Lancet says, with an air of ‘gotcha!’ then continues, “Let the test of experience decide.” Earlier, they said, “It is certain that culinary salt will answer many of the intentions to be effected by the chloride of soda, and it is a disinfecting agent in a very great degree. We do not pretend to ascribe to it all the properties of the chloride of soda, but we are certain that it possesses a great many of them.” That’s a lot of unfounded speculation for a noted medical journal. Also, since The Lancet is petty, I can be petty; chloride of soda is a bad name for sodium hypochlorite because chloride is Cl and a soda (Na) of that is NaCl which is sodium chloride which is just salt, Lancet. Not saying chloruret is a better term, but I haven’t based my entire snarky critique on that basis! Beyond the petty, the test of experience is in and salt and bleach are, shockingly, not interchangeable as disinfectants, something that is easily tested, even in 1827. Salt is a desiccant, it kills some bacteria by sucking the water out of it. Bleach is an oxidizer, it kills bacteria by literally breaking apart the proteins in organic material. This is why, despite The Lancet’s flippant dismissal of the substances’ differences, we use salt to preserve foodstuffs and not bleach. There are so many legitimate critiques of Alcock’s article, he overly relies on anecdotal evidence, his measurement recommendations are unclear and unstandardized, he injects bleach in patients, but this review is just lazy.

[surveysonfleek]

457.

5000 Question Survey Pt. 19

1801. How many smurfs can you name? never really watched it. just smurfette and papa smurf. 1802. Do you keep track of your life using a planner or calendar book?Would you be lost without it? i have a planner that i only use for busy months. 1803. Have you ever fully eradicated a bad habit that you had? yeah. biting my nails. 1804. Where do snowflakes come from? the sky. 1805. What do these latin phrases mean? Et tu Brute: Congito ergo sum: no idea on both.

1806. You're writing a story. The super hot (guy or girl?): guy is about to kiss (who): a frog Just then they get interrupted by (what): the princess and somebody screams, (what):"wtf" but it is too late. Fortunately (who): the king walks by and does something (what): nothing and they all live (how): unhappily ever after. 1807. The radio is playing U2, The Defects, Echo & the Bunnymen, The Pointer Sisters, Staubkind, and Dr. Dre. on different stations. Which band are you most likely to listen to? dr dre. 1808. How do you feel about the tsunami that killed over 100,000 people in December 2004? it’s actually quite shocking to reread the amount of people that lost their lives that day. crazy. 1809. What is the difference between madness and brilliance? brilliance is more of what society would find impressive. 1810. Write any random sentance here: you spelt sentence wrong. 1811. Say the sentence you wrote out loud. Did anybody answer? no. 1812. Turn on your TV if it's not on already, what channel is it? no thanks, remote is too far. 1813. If you were to hit redial on your phone right now, who would it call? work. 1814. Hit edit paste on your browser and paste the last thing you copied here: this survey... so no. 1815. Miracle on 34th street, original or remake? i forgot both tbh. 1816. Have you ever been in a parade? nope. 1817. Why don't people just walk up to each other and become friends? i’m sure it’s happened. 1818. Do you turn the bass up all the way in your car (or would you if you had a car) and blast the music? yeah it’s on max. 1819. Do you care if what you do annoys others? to some extent. 1820. What keeps you from being happy? people bringing me down. 1821. If you could go back in time and talk to yourself five years ago what would you say to yourself(You can only stay in the past for FIVE MINUTES so make it COUNT!)? i’d definitely give myself a direction to go career-wise. 1822. Write a surreal (Having an oddly dreamlike quality) sentance: no. 1823. Can you talk for one hour without using the word 'like'? possibly. 1824. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? no. 1825. Say something nice about: yourself: i’m kind to the people i love. me: thanks for coming up with questions to help me kill time. your dad: he is the most generous person i know. your mom: she’s the best mother anyone could ask for. the one you love: very patient lol. 1826. Questions from random movies: Why is it that a fly can't bird but a bird can fly? You know what people are liking at night? cool. 1827. What is your favorite movie that Denzel Washington has been in? coach carter for sure. 1828. What websites are addictive to you? youtube, reddit, tumblr. 1829. Who do you love so much that you would clean live maggots out of their garbage pail just so that they didn't have to? ummmm. i don’t know... 1830. Who do you think will read all 5,000 of your answers to this survey? no one. or someone who’s redoing them. 1831. Out of everyone reading your diary, how many people know your first name? not many. 1832. When you die and your tragic story is a human intrest spot on the news will you want your friends and family to say you were the greatest smartest and kindest person ever...or tell the truth? tell the truth. i’m dead anyway. 1833. Have you filled out an organ donor card? no. 1834. Who do you never want to end up like? my boyfriend’s mother. 1835. How many oxymorons can you think of? pretty ugly. microsoft works. haha idk. 1836. How many years old is your diary? - 1837. How could today get any worse? no. 1838. What will you never ever do again? not sure... 1839. What's the most terrible lie someone could tell you? something that i already know? 1840. Would you ever wear vinyl pants? probably not. 1841. What was the last thing that you printed out? tickets. 1842. What would you say to Flavor Flav if you saw him walking down the street? nothing. 1843. What are you dependant on? my mother. 1844. What do you look forward to each day? eating and sleeping. 1845. What did you think of the Columbine shootings? tbh i don’t know much about it. 1846. Did you take lessons as a kid? what? gymnastics and karate. 1847. What's the best song to listen to after a break up? boyz ii men. 1848. The radio is playing Poison, Inxs, the Psychadelic Furs, Dio, and Matchbox 20 on different stations. What do you listen to? none. 1849. Do you know what it's like to take care of someone else? yes. 1850. Would you rather take care of someone or be taken care of? obviously be taken care of. but it’s also nice and rewarding to take care of someone else that needs it. 1851. What is the worst 80's song in your opinion? idk. 1852. What song makes you so happy that just want to dance and dance and DANCE? haha plenty of songs. old school rnb i guess. God, does it even matter if you think you "can't dance?" nope. 1853. What has been your most beautiful magical memorable cloud nine manic ecstatic incredibly happy bouncy air-light moment of this life??? watching my boyfriend win on roulette with one single bet in the private section of the casino in monaco. 1854. According to Depeche Mode, "Everything counts in large amounts." According to the Crow, "Nothing is trivial." Do you believe this is true? idk. 1855. Are you enjoying this thrilling lucious roller coaster ride of a life as much as I am? sure. 1856. Do you know how improbable it is that life exists at all? haha don’t get me started. 1857. Are you kind to strangers? most of the time. 1858. Do you go out of your way for other people? if i like them and if they’d do the same for me. 1859. Make a promise: i’ll try and finish this 5000q survey. 1860. Will you keep it? keyword: try. 1861. What do you think of the author of this survey? idk. What's my gender? female? What's my age? this is 10yo so maybe you’re 30+? What bands do I like(you must have SOME idea by now)? 90s stuff. Anything else?? no. 1862. What makes something "literature"? Also, what makes something "art?" to me personally, literature is basically any piece of written work and art can be seen/heard/felt/smelt/tasted in anything. 1863. Why are you even doing this survey?? Doesn't it TELL you something that you have NOTHING BETTER TO DO than fill out a 5,000 question survey??? i’m incredibly bored. 1864. Has answering these questions been a learning experiance for you (writeing them certainly has been for me)? the spelling mistake though. 1865. Have you ever been so happy you could cry? yes. 1866. Do you know that the one you love is the one you will spend the rest of your life with?? haha no i didn’t know that. 1867. Have you ever asked yourself, 'Is there any more to life than this?' yes. 1868. What did you answer yourself? nothing. 1869. Do you let the restrictions of society restrain you? nope. 1870. Or are you just too full of life to be stopped?? sure. 1871. We are spinning on a bright blue bulb that is bursting with life. How could you possibly feel alone? eh... 1872. Is there something you'd like to try? sure, first class! 1873. What makes your heart smile and your skin get all tingly-ish? any time i’m happy. 1874. How long has it been since you danced the night away? quite awhile... 1875. Are you willing to do EVERYTHING POSSIBLE to get the most out of life? at this stage in my life, no. but i want to. 1876. Are you willing to give the very best most beautiful part of yourself to the world? sure. 1877. Is there love in your heart? yes. 1878. Do things tend to go your way more often when you're happy? i guess so. 1879. What do you do while everyone sleeps? work or surveys lol. 1880. What is one thing you will you never ever ever get any more of? idk. 1881. What's your favorite short story? idk. 1882. Have do you feel about beauty pageants? they’re terrible for children and teens. it sets them up for an insecure mindset if they’re being judged on their looks all the time.  1883. If it ain't broke (say anything but 'don't fix it'): enjoy it. 1884. What is your favorite DIY related website? (mine is probably http://www.homeofthesampler.com) pinterest. 1885. Do you bruise easily? no. 1886. In William Shakespeare's play, "All's Well That Ends Well," the character Parolles makes an interesting speech about virginity, saying that "Virginity by being once lost may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is ever lost...To speak on the part of virginity is to accuse your mothers; which is most infallible disobedience...virginity murders itself; and should be buried in highways, out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites, much like a cheese; consumes itself to the very paring, and so dies with feeding his own stomach. Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but lose by't..." What do you think of this? tl:dr. 1887. Would you prefer to stay in a motel, hotel, inn, lodge, or resort? resort. 1888. Have you ever gone scuba diving? no, too scared. 1889. What kind of bread do you like? soft white bread. 1890. Do you usually behave the way you want to? yes. 1891. How does the idea in your head of what you want to be like match up to the reality of what you are like? no. 1892. Do you realize that in 111 questions this survey will have more questions than there have been years since christ was born? haha crazy. 1893. Are your air and water as pure as you want them to be? probably not. 1894. Would you ever visit an insect zoo? i guess i would. 1895. Can you enjoy life without stimulants (coffee, ciggarettes, drugs, alcohol)? i could. 1896. How many hours do you sleep every night? between 5-8. 1897. Is this survey your friday or saturday night date? yes hahaha. 1898. I go crazy when I'm without _______. sleep. 1899. Can you do the robot dance? no. 1900. How much thought do you put into your dance moves? not much at all. 1901. Are you able to recognize patterns, habits, routines and break out of them? yes.

[sucaritra]

Bāṛi - Chapter 6

Word Count: 1827

Warnings: language, anxiety, Negan

Summary: the rest of the work day, and reader can finally put a name to a face

A/N: i know this is slow moving but this is a slow burn. we’ll get to the drama

Masterlist

The morning went by slowly, the repetition of copying down the records of all the residents was surprisingly calming, managing to dull the nervous energy surrounding you. Negan would throw a question at you every now and again in an attempt to learn more about you and, annoyingly,  break the comfortable silence that had fallen as you both got on with your own work.

“You Indian or something?”

“Or something.”

“What were you going to study?”

“Literature.”

“Pfft. Nerd.”

By lunch time, you'd gotten through about a quarter of the pile, something you were silently proud of considering you hadn't written anything in years and managed to actually make your handwriting look rather neat.

Negan walked with you out of his office so that you could both grab lunch and split off from you when you got to the floor below his office. Since you weren’t all that hungry considering you've basically sat on your arse all morning, you decided to check out the market which was located on the ground floor.

The sights and sounds you entered into was slightly overwhelming as everyone was rushing to grab a quick bite to eat in the half hour time slot dedicated to lunch. Since the canteen was only serving food for breakfast and dinner, everyone had to make do with what was available. There were notable lines for the fresh bread, condiments and salads, by mostly the saviors, while the lengthy lines for protein, granola, and cereal bars were mainly consisting of the residents of the Sanctuary. The significant divide between the classes was not lost on you, and you wondered where working under Negan would place you.

Would you be scrambling for stale food to get you through the day and helplessly save your points for only necessities or medical emergencies since you were part of the working class? Or would you get to enjoy the freshest of food available and spend points on luxuries and material items not truly needed in this world now since you were working so closely with the boss?

Taking your eyes off of the depressing sight, you decided to browse the rest of the stalls, taking note of the points required for the various items. You even managed to talk to a few workers, at least the friendlier looking ones. It seemed as though anyone you talked to were more interested in your accent and wanting to know all about merry old England, which you humoured in an attempt to make some connections and, hopefully, friends. It’s been a hell of a long time since you were able to socialise like this, without the constant fear of threats hanging over your head, and even longer since you were able to window shop as you were. You could get used to this.

Before long, your half hour was running out and so you started to make your way out of the hall, only to crash into someone in your haste not to be late. Quickly apologising and feeling hands on your waist to steady you, you look up, only to find your breakfast hunk grinning down at you with mirth in his eyes.

“No need for apologies honey, no harm done.” His dazzling smile along with the hands still on your waist brought a blush to your cheeks. “I actually spotted you from my post and realised I never got your name this morning before you rushed out on me. I'm James by the way.”

“I'm Maria, and at the expense of sounding like a broken record, I actually have to get back to work before I’m late,” you smile apologetically at him as he laughs, a bright smile exposed through his unruly beard.

“Oh, you're breaking my heart Cinderella! Starting to think I smell funny or something from the way you keep running away from me!”

“I promise you it’s not that, you just keep catching me at the wrong times.”

“Well, I’ll believe that, if I can see you later? In the game room after work?” the poor bloke looks at you with a hopeful expression, before quickly adding, “and no ‘maybe’s’ this time!”

You shyly smile at him while slowly backing away towards the exit, before replying “Fine, we’ll see.” quickly turning around, you make your way out of the hall before he has a chance to retort and head towards the stairwell to make your way up.

You struggle to contain the smile on your face as your thoughts drift to James. It’s hard to be hit on these days without getting a rapey vibe from the guy, and James was definitely not giving off those vibes. It felt good; the carefree nature of flirting took you back to the time before the end, making you appreciate the Sanctuary even more for being a place where such things are possible again.

You had to wait a short while before Negan showed up and let you both into his office, where you immediately took a seat on the floor again and got started with your work. Once again, you worked in relative silence before Negan broke it.

“I know what we need in here. Some fucking music!” he exclaimed, looking at you expectantly with raised brows as your eyes widen slightly. You were really hoping he wasn't going to ask what you thought he would. “You gonna sing a song for me sweetheart?” Damn.

“I’m not actually that good, you know.”

“Bullshit. Sounded just fine from what I heard yesterday.”

“Okay, well, I don't know what to sing. I can't really remember many lyrics.” That was a lie but he didn't need to know that. Truth be told, you were incredibly insecure about your singing, and your long history with stage fright did nothing to help matters. A big personality like Negan was the last person you wanted to sing in front of.

“Oh, darling, I’m sure we can find something for you to sing.” he grinned devilishly as he leaned forward on his desk.

And so started a long back and forth between the two of you, mostly just Negan throwing songs at you, and you turning them down.

“How in the everloving fuck do you not know that song?! It’s a fucking classic.”

“Maybe in your time.”

“Watch it.” he tried to glare at you, fuck did he try, but, truly, he was loving the bantering between you both. You were a bit reserved, but once he broke through you shell and got you going, he found a lighthearted, down to earth girl who he couldn't help but be drawn to.

After quite a while of throwing songs at you, Negan resorted to singing them instead to try and get you going. Oh lord was he a bad singer, but the man didn't care and continued to screech out old Ramones and Nirvana songs, before resorting to Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder.

Eventually, you settled on singing an old Beatles song once Negan caught on that you were turning down songs just because you didn't want to sing, and that you did in fact know them. You could feel his gaze on you but you kept your sight focused on the papers in front of you, face burning red as you sang. Only once you finished did you look up to see the most brilliant smile on his face, eyes twinkling.

“That was fucking beautiful baby. You'd better sing for me more often. My little songbird.” The compliments and the affectionate words aimed at you made you quickly look away, embarrassed, and you carried on with your copying down while Negan chuckled away at his desk.

The praise had caused a warmth to spread in your chest and, surprisingly, you were actually looking forward to singing for him again, if only just for the honeyed words that would come out of a certain tall, dark and handsome man sitting a mere few feet from you.

“So, James huh?” It was now close to the end of the work day and Negan’s words caught you by surprise.

You furrow your brow at him, confused and wondering what the hell he's talking about before realising who he's talking about.

“Uhm, what about him?”

“Saw you two getting all nice and cozy in the market earlier.” His gaze on you was intense as he waited expectantly for a response and, honestly, you had no idea where the hell this conversation was going. You didn't even see Negan there during lunch. Was he lurking in the shadows or some shit?!

“Er, well I briefly met him at breakfast just before coming here. He just wanted to know my name I guess.”

“You like him?”

That caught you off guard. It felt as though you were being interrogated and you weren't sure you liked where this was going after having such a good day.

“I mean, he's nice I suppose. I haven't really talked to him much. He asked me to meet him in the game room after work so I’ll probably get to know him then. He is easy on the eyes though.”

“Really? Him?”

“What's wrong with him?! I bet any woman here would say he's good-looking.”

“The fucker looks like a damn homeless viking with that fucking beard. How is that good looking?!”

“Piss off, beards are attractive! Pretty much most guys with beards are handsome.”

“So , what, you find Simon attractive?”

“That's not a beard, that's a fucking pornstache. Although, he does pull it off.” you shrug slightly as you watch Negan, observing him absentmindedly scratch at his cleanly shaven jaw.

“Huh.” he narrows his eyes slightly as he watches you get back to work, thinking over your words.

You don't know where the hell that conversation came from but you're glad it’s over. Before long, Negan is calling time on the day and asks you to bring him the work you've completed. Gathering the papers, you realise you've gotten through most of them and would probably be able to finish the rest by lunch tomorrow. That is, if you get the job.

You nervously stand in front of the desk as you expectantly await Negan’s verdict, watching as he looks over your work. Your palms sweat and your foot taps against the floor as the fucker takes his sweet time before he looks up, smiling at you.

“Well done sweetheart, this is good work. You've officially got the job! And you managed to get through most of that shitpile, that is very fucking impressive. You're back up here same time tomorrow to finish that off and then I’ll give you some other shit to do. Now, go get some dinner darling, you deserve it.” With one last grin, he nods towards the door, which you take as your cue to leave.

You thank him before leaving, happy about the fact that you finally have a place here and more than ready to see your handsome, homeless viking.

tagging: @neganisking

[5hfanfiction]

This Isn't Our First Time Around - Feudal Japan (1/?)

Camila could barely sleep that night, which she figured was a bad thing with her history of sleeping in class. She couldnt help it though, she was too excited.

So when her alarm went off at 7:00am, she was already in the shower and picking out her clothes.

Normally, Camila was the “sweats and hoodies” kind of girl, but she felt the need to look good today and she couldn’t pinpoint why.

(It definitely wasn’t because of a beautiful green eyed girl that she was going to see today, that’d be absurd.)

Deciding on a more casual look, Camila threw on a pair of dark high waisted skinny jeans and a black cropped tank top to accentuate her curves. Then she went to the bathroom to put some makeup on so that she didn’t look like complete trash. Giving herself a once over in the mirror, she smiled approvingly at herself before going back to her room to grab her phone and a jacket.

Once she deemed herself ready, she walked out of her apartment quickly and headed toward the museum.

She blushed a bit realizing she had gotten there ahead of time. The museum opened at 8:00am and she had arrived at 7:35am. But a familiar figure sitting on the steps relieved her. Or stressed her out more, she couldn’t tell.

As she approached, Camila took a moment to observe Lauren. Dressed in black skinny jeans and a grey hoodie topped off with a leather jacket, Lauren looked like a completely different person than she was yesterday. Much more comfortable and casual than the blazer and skirt she was wearing the day before. Camila found herself incredibly relieved that Lauren hadn’t noticed her yet, because she was definitely swooning right now.

“Hey there,” Camila greeted Lauren shyly with a small wave as she approached.

Lauren grinned at the brown eyed girl.

“Hey yourself. You’re here early,” Lauren said lowering her sunglasses a bit so Camila could see her raised eyebrow.

“I-uh-I’m really excited to learn about history. And you’re early too,” Camila countered quickly.

Lauren just smiled. “That’s cause I couldn’t wait to see you,” she said boldly while shrugging.

She stood up and dusted herself off, Camila eyes wandering to Lauren’s ass briefly.

“Well, no point in waiting,” Lauren said walking up the steps. Camila had to shake her head to focus and followed behind the green eyed girl.

“Are you allowed in early?” Camila asked unsure and Lauren laughed.

“Don’t worry-” she said, spinning the key ring around her finger, “my uncle owns the place." 

She quickly unlocked the door and the two entered inside. Camila once again examined the large entrance. Lauren went to the front desk and pressed a few buttons as well as flip a switch. Suddenly, the room was full of lights and holograms.

"Welcome to the New Miami Museum of Ancient History. I’m Lauren, and I’ll be your personal tour guide today,” Lauren said, grinning from ear to ear as she watched Camila look around the room amazed.

“That was awesome,” Camila whispered under her breath.

“Trust me, this is only the beginning. Now why don’t we go find something for your history paper,” Lauren said, grabbing her hand and leading her down the same hallway as the previous day.

“This was the first exhibit my uncle showed me and I fell in love with it,” Lauren spoke as she lead Camila to a room. The sign above the door read ’Japan 1185-1868’.

“Feudal Japan?” Camila asked curiously and Lauren nodded, impressed.

“Glad you at least pay attention sometimes in that history class,” Lauren joked, pushing the double doors open and flipping the switch so the exhibit’s lights and holograms turned on.

Lauren began talking passionately about the exhibit and it’s history.

“The feudal period of Japanese history was a time when powerful families, called the daimyo, and the military power of warlords, known as shogun, and their warriors, the samurai, ruled Japan. The Yamato family remained as emperor, but their power was seriously reduced because the daimyo, shoguns, and samurai were just as powerful…” Lauren explained and Camila listened intently to every word that dripped from her lips.

They walked around the exhibit and Lauren talked on and on about great families and shoguns. Legendary battles that took place so long ago, their history recorded in texts and relics left behind.

But it was towards the end that Camila became enamored by a certain artifact. She felt herself drawn towards the display case where two swords sat. One was a traditional katana, but the other one was smaller. Both had yellow detailing and dragons carved along the handles.

“What’s this?” Camila inquired as Lauren silently observed her. Noticing what she was referring to, Lauren grinned excitedly.

“That’s a traditional Katana and its counterpart Wakizashi. Its story is one of my favorites,” Lauren said softly approaching the case with Camila.

Camila looked at the display again. It just felt so… familiar.

“Can you tell me the story please?” Camila pleaded and Lauren nodded. “Of course.”

“This is the story of the Daimyo princess and the assassin. It all began in…”

Feudal Japan, 1827

Lauren Jagu, heir to the Jagu daimyo family, sat in her room. Her father told her to stay inside since their rival, the Kami family, had sent assassins after them.

“My lady?”

The green eyed princess, a rarity among the people to have such eyes, turned to her maid. A smaller woman, named Camila.

“That will be all,” Lauren smiled. Camila nodded and bowed out of the room.

Lauren quickly made her way to the floor board by her bed and lifted it up, revealing a secret compartment containing a bow and quiver full of arrows. Lauren quickly changed and left the room through the window, bow and quiver in hand.

Camila watched from a far, making her way to her own room. She quickly lifted up the floorboard, revealing her own weapons, and quickly changed as well.

-

Lauren sat in front of the temple, incense burning slowly as she closed her eyes and prayed.

The shuffling of dirt from behind her alerted Lauren. She opened her eyes and grabbed her bow, quickly drawing and shooting several arrows towards the source of the sound.

She turned around and faced the figure that had approached her. His katana sat on the ground as the man’s blood seeped into the dirt.

Lauren approached the man and noticed that besides the arrows burrowed in his chest, his throat had been slit.

“You can come out now, I know you’re here,” Lauren called out.

A female figure in all black, wearing an oni mask, jumped out from the shadows. The yellow handle of her katana was engraved with dragons. Her Wakizashi sat on the small of her back.

“I apologize for stealing your kill, but I couldn’t risk him killing you,” the figure said. Lauren looked at her, unimpressed, before the figure continued.

“You come here every week, and offer incense for you brother and sister who died to the Kami family assassin.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” the figure said as Lauren surveyed the exits, half of her ready to make an escape, the other half ready to fight.

“He’s the assassin.”

That quickly stopped Lauren in her tracks.

“And how would I know that’s the truth?” Lauren questioned, curiosity getting the best of her. The figure walked over to the corpse and picked up his katana, showing it to the princess. Lauren noticed the green serpent carved into the handle.

“Because it wasn’t my father that hired him, rather my father has been searching for him as well,” the figure admitted, removing her mask to reveal herself.

“Camila?” Lauren asked, shocked. She was definitely not expecting her maid of all people to be a Kami.

“Kumari Camila Kami. Heir to the Kami family,” Camila introduced herself with a dramatic bow.

Lauren’s grip on her bow tightened as fury ran through her veins.

“You’ve been playing me this whole time?” Lauren shouted angrily. Camila shook her head quickly.

“At first, my intentions were to kill you. I wanted to prove myself to my father but… I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I felt… drawn to you. And I know you felt it too.” Camila spoke, raising her hands in surrender.

Lauren glanced down. She had felt it. Many many times, when they were alone… Camila was always more than a maid to her since she arrived a few weeks ago. She was a friend.

But she was a Kami, and she betrayed her trust.

Lauren shook her head and drew her bow, shooting an arrow at Camila, who sliced the arrow effortlessly with her Wakizashi.

“Lauren, I don’t want to fight you,” Camila pleaded as she dodged another arrow.

“I just want to talk, to explain!” Camila suggested as another arrow came at her and she deflected it.

“Then we shall talk through battle!” Lauren shouted as she ran at Camila, swinging her bow. Camila parried her, but not before her leg was swept from beneath her and she landed on the floor.

She rolled out of the way before an arrow found itself in her head. She quickly ran up the wall of the temple, arrows burying themselves into the wall a second behind Camila.

Camila threw three shuriken, which Lauren responded by shooting them out of the air.

“Impressive!” Camila shouted before an arrow landed next to her head. Lauren was not letting up one bit.

“Lauren! My family wants the Kami and Jagu families to be allies. I want us to be allies! Our real enemy are the Swifts!” Camila shouted and Lauren raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Why would our enemy be a Shogun, miles away from us?” Lauren questioned angrily.

Camila slowly came out of where she was hiding, blades put away.

“Because he wants our land. He sent the assassin after your brother and sister. He came after my little sister!” She shouted, clearly distraught. “I knew he’d come after you, so I used my undercover position as your maid to track the assassin.”

Lauren pondered this information for a moment. The pieces finally fell together. The assassins sword..

Lauren gasped. “The Swift family crest, it’s a-”

“-Serpent.”

Both girls turned to the entrance of the temple. Standing in the doorway was Takeo, the son of the Swift Shogun, with ten samurai at his side.

“I’m sure your families will pay handsomely for you two,” he grinned mischievously, unsheathing his katana.

Camila pulled out her Wakizashi and offered it to Lauren, who smirked and shook her head. She drew an arrow and notched it on her bow.

Camila sheathed her Wakizashi and unsheathed her katana. Both girls stood back to back now, ready to fight together.

“You really hope to defeat all ten of us?” Takeo asked, surprised at their defiance.

Camila scoffed, “Ten?”

“You should have brought more,” Lauren chuckled before the samurai attacked.

Lauren quickly took out two samurai before they could even get near her, countering and killing another as Camila buried her katana into another samurai’s chest. Grabbing an arrow from her quiver, Lauren jammed the arrowhead into a samurai’s leg before knocking him unconscious with the limb of her bow.

Camila unsheathed her Wakizashi and threw it through the air, where it lodged itself into a samurai’s throat. Lauren quickly retrieved the Wakizashi while Camila took out another samurai. While her back was turned, two samurai tried to take Camila out from behind.

“Camila!” Lauren warned as she hit one of the samurai in the spine with the girl’s Wakizashi. Camila ducked as she spun around, thrusting her sword upward into the samurai who tried to sneak up on her’s stomach. Removing her sword and Wakizashi from the dead bodies, she ran towards Lauren and used her back as a mount, jumping into the air and slicing the final two samurai’s chests open, landing gracefully while their bodies fell to the ground with a thud.

“Do you think that you can defeat me?!” Takeo yelled angrily as the girls approached him, weapons in hand. “I am the son of the Swift Shogun! No one can defeat m-”

Takeo’s speech was cut short as Lauren’s fist made contact with his face, rendering him unconscious as he fell to the floor. Camila looked at Lauren with a surprised smile on her face, and Lauren just shrugged. “He wouldn’t shut up.”

Afterwards when Takeo was tied up to be returned as a prisoner, Camila approached Lauren.

“I hope you know, our friendship, even though it was made through a façade, is important to me. You are important to me,” Camila admitted.

Seconds later, she was surprised as she felt a pair of soft lips move against her own. Closing her eyes, she quickly reciprocated, her hand coming up to cup Lauren’s jaw gently.

“Idiot,” Lauren jested as she pulled away, making Camila smile widely before leaning in to kiss her again.

—-

“So the Kami family’s heir got married to the Jagu family’s princess, joining the families and creating a dynasty that would last until the end of the Feudal era.” Lauren concluded and Camila couldn’t help but grin at her passion.

“Although, it’s always eluded me. How did the Kami heir pretend to be a maid if he was a male?” Lauren wondered out loud.

“How do you know it was a guy? It could’ve been a girl?” Camila said, since apparently there were no records on the gender of the Kami heir.

“I mean, it could’ve. But I doubt they had a lot of girl on girl action back then. They aren’t as open as today’s society.” Lauren shrugged.

Camila thought hard, was Lauren implying that she was into girls as well?

“Anyway, on to the next exhibit?” Lauren asked and Camila nodded excitedly.

-

Maaaaaajor props to C for this insane chapter (and me for the fight scene at the end 💁🏼). He wrote it and we were both up til like 4am adding and changing stuff and we’re super stoked with how this turned out. Let us know how you guys are liking it so far!!

-K&C

(As always, you can read this story on wattpad here) 

[wallpaperpaintings]

Seven Things That Happen When You Are In Rock Painting Ideas | Rock Painting Ideas

“So the ‘something’ should be a trompe l’oeil affectionate of apparition of distance. Again that got me cerebration and, because I’m a abbot and accept advised art history, I’m accustomed with the idea, the Celtic adherence idea, of Christ as a blade – because the deer array of abandon into the dupe and reappear and abandon and so the abstruseness of the risen Christ is adumbrated by that.

“The buck’s antlers are the acme of thorns,” he said.

“Forest Lawn has white deer so I anticipation it would be fun to accomplish a advertence to that,” he added.

• In South Buffalo, Joanne Mead has several projects on affectation in her aback garden. To adorn a fence, she bought bargain metal flowers, corrective them in ablaze colors application acrylic paints and closed them with varnish. She again corrective the stems and leaves by duke anon beneath the flowers on the fence.

For addition project, she spray-painted an old able artificial accouter box academician green, added annual decals and varnished it.

She additionally gave an old marble-top table a makeover application a aqueous painting address alleged acrylic pouring, again covered it with epoxy. The colors in the architecture represent the sun, acreage and ocean, said Mead, who works for a bounded IT company.

• At the home of Joe Hopkins and Scott Dunlap in Buffalo’s Cottage District, amethyst coneflowers corrective by two artists from upstate New York ball beyond a white fence. But that’s not all. Hopkins came up with the abstraction of demography cream wig heads, painting them altered colors, abstraction out the acme and application them as planters.

Seven Things That Happen When You Are In Rock Painting Ideas | Rock Painting Ideas – rock painting ideas | Welcome for you to my own website, within this time I’ll provide you with about keyword. Now, this can be the first image:

20 of the Best Painted Rock Art Ideas, You Can Do! | The .. | rock painting ideas

What about impression preceding? is which remarkable???. if you believe so, I’l t demonstrate several image yet again beneath:

So, if you like to obtain the amazing pics about (Seven Things That Happen When You Are In Rock Painting Ideas | Rock Painting Ideas), just click save icon to store the pics in your laptop. These are ready for obtain, if you’d prefer and want to own it, simply click save logo in the web page, and it’ll be immediately saved to your desktop computer.} Finally if you need to gain unique and latest image related to (Seven Things That Happen When You Are In Rock Painting Ideas | Rock Painting Ideas), please follow us on google plus or book mark the site, we try our best to offer you regular update with fresh and new pics. We do hope you enjoy keeping here. For some updates and latest news about (Seven Things That Happen When You Are In Rock Painting Ideas | Rock Painting Ideas) shots, please kindly follow us on twitter, path, Instagram and google plus, or you mark this page on bookmark section, We attempt to offer you update regularly with all new and fresh shots, enjoy your browsing, and find the perfect for you.

Here you are at our site, articleabove (Seven Things That Happen When You Are In Rock Painting Ideas | Rock Painting Ideas) published .  At this time we are excited to declare that we have discovered an awfullyinteresting topicto be reviewed, namely (Seven Things That Happen When You Are In Rock Painting Ideas | Rock Painting Ideas) Many people trying to find specifics of(Seven Things That Happen When You Are In Rock Painting Ideas | Rock Painting Ideas) and definitely one of them is you, is not it?

20 Brilliant Rock Painting Ideas For Kids – Fun Family Craft Project – rock painting ideas | rock painting ideas

Rock painting ideas for The Kindness Rocks Project – Mod .. | rock painting ideas

24 Popular Items for Hand Painted Stones | PicturesCrafts | rock painting ideas

Painted Rocks | 20 Easy DIY Rock Painting Ideas – DIY & Crafts .. | rock painting ideas

Painted Rocks for Artistic Yard and Garden Designs, 40 .. | rock painting ideas

Debra Hurd — Trane (577×900) | Mystical art, People art .. | rock painting ideas

Mark Montano: Painted Love Stones – rock painting ideas | rock painting ideas

How to Paint Rocks: Step by Step | Painted Rock Ideas – rock painting ideas | rock painting ideas

Dark brown kitchen cabinets granite counter tops, white .. | rock painting ideas

Painted Rock Art ⋆ Handmade Charlotte – rock painting ideas | rock painting ideas

20 Easy Rock Painting Ideas for Beginners ⋆ DIY Crafts – rock painting ideas | rock painting ideas

20+ Fun Rock Painting Ideas for Kids – The Art Kit – rock painting ideas | rock painting ideas

20 Awesome Rock Painting Ideas for Kids to Try – rock painting ideas | rock painting ideas

how to make beautiful resin painted rocks – Rock Painting 101 – rock painting ideas | rock painting ideas

IMG_4809 Ernst Ferdinand Oehme. 1797-1855. Burg Hohnstein in der Sachsischen Schweiz. Burg Hohnstein in the Saxonien Moutains. Le château de Hohnstein dans la Suisse Saxonne. 1827. Berlin Alte Nationalgalerie | rock painting ideas

Best Easy Painted Rock Ideas For Beginner Who Want to Try .. | rock painting ideas

20 Easy Rock Painting Ideas for Beginners – Fabulessly Frugal – rock painting ideas | rock painting ideas

DIY Ideas Of Painted Rocks with Inspirational Picture and .. | rock painting ideas

20+ Easy Rock Painting Ideas for Beginners – I Love Painted Rocks – rock painting ideas | rock painting ideas

from WordPress https://www.bleumultimedia.com/seven-things-that-happen-when-you-are-in-rock-painting-ideas-rock-painting-ideas/

[embracing-the-ineffable]

Ohhh, 1827, just realized this is about the same time when we could meet Jane Austen in season three, after the 1810 diamond robbery she masterminded. I've been wondering if there will be more to the story of all the other characters in this time as well (Wee Morag, Elspeth, Dr Dalrymple)...

ah, poor demon he is not responsible for his actions