#I am still unsure why that happened I have only had these paints for a month or two but like ok

[heavenbloom]

🇵🇸 BEFORE YOU READ: DONATE • BOYCOTT TLOU • GAZAN MUTUAL AID MASTERLIST

❆ — 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫

song: the night — lovewave

summary: a letter addressed to abby anderson, twenty years after the two of you parted.

warnings: 18+ mdni, literally straight up angst, letter format, from reader’s pov, set in the future, not proofread.

a/n: this is entirely inspired by moonlit winter (2019). this’ll probably be boring af but i love love that goes beyond time and the physical and i love mundane yet emotional movies <3

The icy air nipped at your fingertips, the chill tracing unforgiving trails from them to the bottom of your soles.

The snowfall was thick this time of year and it painted the small town in hushed tones. The only thing heard in the white noonday was the laboured crunch of your boots and the heave of your breath against your thick woollen scarf.

The cold barely registered, though, as you dipped your hand into your coat pocket. The thin, glossy edge of an envelope crinkled at the contact.

How could something so small and hidden conceal a whole lifetime within it? It felt like it was burning a hole where it sat, yearning to reunite with your being, to settle there and remain a secret.

The sound of your footfalls ceased, and you let out a slow exhale. A plume of air swelled in front of your vision, softening the edges of everything.

The post office box was rimmed with ice. It stood as lonesome as you did, on this drowsy street, in a town you knew so well now, yet not nearly enough as you should have. It was hard to be a part of something when you always had one eye gazing back at the past.

This would hopefully change that. A parting gift. A farewell to somebody you had said goodbye to long ago.

You reached for the letter.

⋆⁺₊❅.

Dear Abby,

It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?

I don’t know if I will send this letter, but I can imagine the look on your face if you ever do receive it. Bushy, furrowed brows and downcast eyes… you never looked up when you were puzzled about something. It was if you had to retreat into yourself in order to make sense of the world around you.

The woman that I see receiving this is youthful and vibrant, forever frozen in the sands of my memory. Lines have begun to etch my features, and with each year that passes by, they deepen. It must be the same for you. It has to be, right? But the image of you, aged, eludes me.

I often imagine what kind of person you are now. Did you ever marry? Have children? Do you live in a house with a garden bursting with the smells of overripe berries and fresh herbs, like the one we fantasised about owning all those years ago? These are the reveries that have teeth, that sink and gnaw at something unspoken within me.

I did know you, once, but I’m unsure I do now. Does the soul change over time, or just the meat and bone that surrounds it?

I’ve experienced more of my life with your absence as opposed to your presence. I moved to a quiet corner of the world and made a life for myself. The summers here are mild and the winters are the never-ending and silent kind that we never saw back home. It’s somewhere that you would despise.

Maybe that’s why you plague my mind so often. This town is a place where I know you’d never find yourself in. Back then, I was running away from you and in a way, I still am. Like visiting an attic that one knows is haunted, I think of you.

I dream of you, too. Mundane, meaningless. Nothing happens in these dreams, but you’re there, shining. A wisp of blonde hair, the starlight of a freckled shoulder… the same.

I guess this sameness is what compelled me to write this. I’ve been walking through my life with my head craned back towards the past, so much so that I couldn’t see where I was headed. Now I’ve stopped, in the middle of it, in this purgatory. It can’t go on, Abby. At some point, I have to turn to face the future. I should have long ago.

I’m made up of regrets, but what good will they do now? Instead of listing the should-haves, I’ll tell you the truth;

This is not the first letter I’ve written that’s dedicated to you, but it will be the first I’ve ever had the courage to send. Let it be the last.

I’m sorry if what we shared has also left you with scars and an endlessness of seeking. I’m sorry that I was cowardly, and that I still am.

Thank you for the sliver of sweetness that you gave to me. Thank you for loving me like you meant it. I hope you know that I meant it, too. Everything I did, every word and every touch, was honest.

But I have lived with its death. Now I must let it rot.

Goodbye, Abby. Be braver than I am.

[l0s3r95]

Who else up perceiving rn

[badly-drawn-doflamingo]

The Brutality (and some censoring) Of The Rumbar Deaths.

Similar to my piece on Yorki and his lil sickness, this is again just something that haunts me constantly and is honestly something I don’t see anyone else talking about. Maybe this is because I have Rumbar Pirates autism. The deaths of the Rumbar Pirates are often thought to just be the snippet we see during their final moments, however Oda paints a much darker picture, with such dark hues the anime had to censor some of this. More than just Binks Sake happened to these men.

To begin, I am going to introduce you all to a certain Rumbar Pirate. Pirates.

This is Madaisuki! He has a twin brother named Madawadasuki Mizuta!

These Mizuta boys are named this because they are the japanese pun of “I love DOTS!” and “Dots ain’t half bad!” We know they were young, and that they wanted to be just like Brook. (I will go over these statements a bit later.) They wore matching clothing, mirroring one another as some twins do, having a tight bond. We already know their candles were snuffed out too short, but do you know how this happened to each? Madawadasuki is shown in the Bink’s Sake flashback, blood pooling on his temple and matting some of his hair. He looks tired, but with a smile, plays on with the other remaining crew. That is the key word here, remaining. There were hundreds of men on this ship yet THIS is what we see surrounding Brook on the deck? Where are the rest. THAT is where Madaisuki comes in. 

Madaisuki does not die on screen, but his body, just the body, is gruesome enough that the anime had to censor it. When we find the young man, he is in one of the off rooms, looks to be the dining area, thrown onto the floor with his arms outstretched, with his hair still attached to the skull.

This is not the reason behind the censoring, no, the reason is the cause of death.

Plunged into his skull and back, pinning his body to the floor with his jaw still open, are his own weapons. His own swords pin his body to the floor, so even if he somehow survived the attack, he could not get up, however with your own blade through your brain case and into the blood spattered floor below you, that is not much of an option. Those swords.. they also are made to mirror YORKI’S. They both wanted to be just like their Captains.

[ more info on Maddy here ]

This leaves a few things open for the reader to take in. Why is he tucked away in an off room like this? Well, it means the battle either continued into these rooms, not just on deck, which is more than likely shown by the shattered mirrors and doors in the bedrooms and hallways we see, or poor Madaisuki was cornered, overpowered, and butchered.

In any case, this means his brother either also saw this and continued to smile and sing for Laboon, or held a hope that somehow, his twin was just somewhere else, tucked away to die in peace. How many other men died this way, for we see bedroom doors torn off hinges and blood spattering the walls.

Time does do that, a butchering does.

This is just one body, one upon hundreds, we know this because of a line Franky states so casually I am unsure if the anime added it; “We could not carry them all, we buried them here. The weight was too much for the Sunny to take.”

The weight was too much for the Sunny to take.

How many men died, because those multiple upon multiple coffins were not filled with bodies, but skulls. Only skulls.

If the ship cannot carry it, how do we expect BROOK?? He must hold grief for he was acting Captian, these things on his head alone, and knowing he failed his partner, my god, that must ache. To know you created widows, fatherless children, families who will never know if their little boys or men or partners or fathers would come home. No closure, only Brook, and the poison that caused the remaining light-hearted musicians to bleed out in their little heap.

When Brook picks up the skull of Madaisuki, a memory comes to mind. Perhaps not a recent one, for he knew them for many years, but one that stood out to him. One Oda chose for us to see as a representation of Brook’s thoughts;

“You’re awesome, Brook! Can you teach me to swordfight like you?”

We see the body, with his own weapons used against him, holding his corpse in place with a hole blasted through his brain. His polka dots he adored are spattered as well, torn where his ribcage was cut open. Brook failed him. He failed them all, in his eyes, not the viewer or actuality. And this breaks my heart.

Update 1.0

Absolutely I think he does have his.. odd crew moments/interactions.

Sanji at the right angle, asking for something and the response is a slip up of “yes, my Captain!” In such a tone that Sanji could mistake himself as more than a crewmate in Brook’s eyes.

Somedays they finds the skeleton speaking to himself, small quolms or questions, asking to an invisible force in silence.

“John, how did you make your coffee again?”

“Madaisuki, how do you do this..?”

Some nights, he’s found over the beds, absent in all human aspects but dead, mute and upsettingly still.

When Usopp asks, after minutes of motionless, creeping anxiety, why does he just stand, why does he watch?

“I want to make sure you’re breathing! It means you’re real.”

[grapejuicestyless]

hi, hope you're well! i was wondering if you could write something for conrad based on the song my love mine all mine by mitski? i've been obsessed with it lately and it reminds me off him 💖

My Love, Mine All Mine.

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

summery: Y/n has always gave too much. She always loved, believed too easily. She can’t control what others will do with that, but she can control how she loves.

Sorting through the shiny papers, the corners cut into my skin with each photo I crumpled up, tossing it into the shadows. Each memory ingrained forever on a film that would only taunt me with the past.

I hate the way the sun shined through the leaves in each one. How the sand looked so soft under our feet, the ocean bluer than any summer sky could every paint it now. I am reminded of how vibrant the world became with him in my life, when he was mine.

I say that he was mine loosely. I am unsure if I even have the ability to own something so pretty, so precious. If I ever even did. I remember the way my hands would run through his salty curls after a beach day. How he would hold me extra tight, we’d only bring one towel to share. His lap was soft, shorts scrunched up and dripping still.

I think of his lips on mine. How perfectly they fit on mine. I remember how desperate each kiss was. Not once had he ever made it seem like if it were to go no further we would cease to exist, but he was feverish enough with each lick into my mouth where I knew no matter what, he would never be satisfied. He always wanted more, more, more. How foolish of me to believe it was because he could simply not get enough of me, not because I was not enough.

He was kind, showing me affection in ways he swore would only ever be for me. He decorated his walls with love letters and Polaroids of us, of me. He had stacks of our adventures in an old shoebox under his bed for when I was away and he was missing me. He reminded me everyday how much he adored me. Counting down the seconds until he could hold me in his arms. He promised me it was a feeling that nobody else could ever give him. A heart rush that only ever came over him when my name was involved.

So why does he look at her that way? Why must his eyes carry the same shimmer of lust in them that he once held for me? I see the way his hands grip at her hips, her thighs. It’s animalistic in a way, primal. He wants her, needs her. He’s hers.

I remember the night I discovered their secret. My lover and my sister hand in hand one late June night. I stood still on the grass watching over them. My tears came out dry. I couldn’t even try and sob, let myself break. With his leaving just months ago, I’d already rung myself dry of any tears I had left.

It’s funny how something that once made you feel special can make you feel so sick so suddenly. What once gave me a reason for my living killed me so suddenly.

I knew I was always destined to die, to burn out and disappear. I never imagined how it would’ve happened at the hands of the two I trusted the most in my life. Looking up at the moon that night, I prayed to forget, to heal so suddenly. Rid me of the ache in my heart and replace it with a cold emptiness.

He holds her while she sits in my spot on the couch. She laughs at the jokes I told him that now spew from his lips. Her hands find home in his hair and the towel we once shared as become theirs. It’s all reused, it’s the same. He makes her feel special, wanted, lusted after. He’s a damn good actor, he fools the whole damn world with his cruel games.

Now I know better than anyone that when calling him mine, I must use it loosely. At some time, he might have been. The photos I tear up in my room are only proof of our years spent together. Two summers spent doting on each other. He was with me, but could I call him mine? If he left so easily, did he ever even need me? Want me?

I hold the final photo in my hands, the moon shines down on us. We’re only young in the photograph. His cheek is pressed to mine, our smiles touch. We look so free, so happy. I feel guilty if I were to rip it up when it still feels so happy.

Grabbing a pin from the bedside table, I poke it into the wall beside my mountains of other places and people I’ve seen. It sticks out, like it’s been highlighted in bright red. It stings to look at, but it reminds me of a better time, a time when I believed I had the ability to have good things.

Now I know, nothing in this world belongs to me. Not my baby, not my sister’s loyalty. Not my mother, not my brother. I have no control over anything. Yet, each time I allow myself to believe that I do. That I mean something. I pay a price for the immaturity of my heart. I act a fool over the smallest affections, the most discrete love. And I watch as each time it is taken away, leaving me with a heavy chest and a heart far too full for my body. Nothing in this world is mine for free. Nothing in this world belongs to me but my love, mine all mine.

[mari-lair]

Akane is not an enemy or an antagonist in this arc.

He has the key, he have power, and that is important, but his power is framed as a hope for Nene and Teru not an opposite force.

Akane doesn't hide anything about the situation, he is never antagonistic, or shows signs of wanting to trap them in the world: They are on the same side here. Kako was the one who changed the past, changed the timeline.

He is the one who called Nene and Teru to the student council. He planned to explain what is happening from the start.

Just compare him to Hanako, who was the antagonist in picture perfect: Hanako acts like he is right for trapping Nene, Akane is so unsure if he did the right thing he tries to reassure himself this future is better for everyone, regretting his decision when he learn no one is happy and not hesitating to put the key on the table when Teru asks why he went along with Kako plan. Hanako had broken the helpful brush the second it tried to say how to escape Mei's world. Akane said right away they have three days before their memories are overwriten, Hanako play the role of Amane, he wanted Kou and Nene to stay in the painting forever without even noticing they forgot their real lives.

Akane also genuinely doesn't know how to get back to the right time to move then back to the old timeline. Not for sure. He could just make things worse if he act reckless.

So as far as Nene and Teru are concerned, Akane is an asshole who didn't warn them about his very major duty, but who is still an ally, a ticket to get home.

But I'm sure you want to talk about the internal monologue that show he is reluctant to go to the original timeline despite all the issues in this one, which is likely the reason he wanted to convince himself and the crew that this is a better present in the first place.

And to this, I say: Anon he is right for being wary, he is not betraying anyone here, he is most likely saving their lives.

Yes, he wants to go back to his old world too, yes he doesn't like this new timeline and hates hurting his friends, but he is being logical. He is smart. If Teru and Nene or himself can't find a way to deal with the 'interference', this new and alien present will be better than their old present. Way better.

Do you remember why Kako resorted to such drastic measures in the first place?

Students are in serious danger, Nene will die in less than 1 year, Mitsuba was poisoned, the clock is broken, and MOST IMPORTANT the Yorishiros are being destroyed.

The Yorishiros are a big deal, their destruction literally means the world is unbalanced and at risk of collapsing into a mess where death and life no longer exist.

So if Akane joins the "let's dismiss the clock keepers and go back to EXACTLY how things were" train EVEN IF HE COULD, they would go to a timeline destined for destruction, which I would say is way worse than this new one. His search for Tsukasa is likely for two reasons: Make sure this new one also doesn't fall into chaos and hopefully find answers to help save their old timeline, if he can't save the old timeline at all, at least this one will have the treat eliminated.

I am confident if Nene and Teru find a way to fix their current timeline, you bet Akane will not get in the way, he'll go "how can i help?" as fast as he can.

He understands how dire the situation is, but he wants to help. He is clearly not on the keeper's side. I can kind of see him being placed in an antagonistic role depending on where the story goes with this setup, but he definitively isn't an enemy.

And it is indeed heavily implied if the 3 days deadline pass Akane will be the only one with memories. He'll be lonely. He'll have the worse fate of the group. But he has always been a self-sacrificial guy, so i am not surprised. I do still want to strangle him though.

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hello there! How are you doing? Can I request Caitlyn, Vi and Jinx sneaking reader’s out from home in the middle of the night? Secret dates 😃❤️

DUDE THIS IS SO ASDGFVGGGG ❤️‍🔥 I love this so much. I am thriving, anon. Also, I’m unsure about my skill in writing for Caitlyn so 😬 I’ll try my best. Thank you for requesting! ENJOY~

Secret, Late Night Date 🌟

VI 💘

It wasn’t unusual for Vi to come banging on your window at late hours of the night. You jump at the loud thud on the glass, sitting up in bed. “Vi?” You blink several times to clear the sleepiness from your eyes only to see a blurry, pink haired figure in your window. Groggily, you stand and stumble to the window, pushing it open. “What do you think you’re doing?” With a hand on your hip, you frown at the pink haired girl in front of you. She just smiles up at you, an excited sparkle in her pale blue eyes. “I’m taking you out.” Your brow raises as you cross your arms now. “Ugh, Vi, last time we did this, you had us chased by enforcers. Is tonight gonna be one of those nights?” You are whisper shouting now, watching her roll her eyes at you. “I don’t know, maybe.” You groan softly as you back away from the window to give her room to enter. “Well get in here then. I have to change.”

You didn’t plan on hanging with her tonight so you were a little disheveled right now. Your hair was a mess, the bags under your eyes were very prominent and you were in baggy pajamas. Vi plops down on your bed and watches you change into your regular day clothes, not in a weird creepy way but with a look of admiration on her usually stern face. “Stop staring.” You give her a playful glare as she looks away quickly, a slight smile still on her lips. She continues to steal glances as you finish getting dressed. You definitely notice this but you act like you don’t.

“Cool. Let’s go.” She heads back for the window, jumping out first then offering you a hand as you climb out after her. You take her hand and step out. Once you’re steady on your feet, she pulls you close and tosses her arm over your shoulder then leads the way. “Where are we going?” She gets a smug look on her face and ignores you as you continue walking. “And why did you have to come kidnap me at like 1 in the morning?” Now she’s chuckling as she gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “This is a time sensitive date, hun. It had to be now.” You sigh and cross your arms, trying to fight back a smile. You love that she called this a date. “This better be worth it.”

After a long walk, you round the corner of a tall building in the middle of the city. This particular building was TALL, at least 20 stories. Now comes the hard part…well for you at least. Vi begins climbing the fire escape ladder to the rooftop and you follow, much slower than her. You’re equally exhausted and excited at this point. “Hurry up! It’s starting!” She shouts down at you as you huff. “How are you so wide awake right now?” You snap at her as you nearly reach the top. Once she’s there, she turns and watches you with an excited grin. You’ve never seen her smile so much. Once your calves are burning and you’re finally on your last few rungs of the ladder, you look up to see Violet’s silhouette with a flashing sky behind her.

You reach the top of the building, unable to look away from the sky as you grab her hand tightly. It was like a moving painting. She brought you up here to watch the meteor shower that was happening tonight and from this high up it was absolutely beautiful, bright flashes of yellow and white streaking across the navy blue sky. “Holy shit! Oh my god, this is amazing!” She gazes up with you for a moment before walking over and taking a seat on the very edge of the building. You finally tear your eyes away from the sky and glance over at her, gasping softly. “You better be careful.” She just laughs before waving you over. “Get over here.” You hesitantly shuffle over and sit down beside her very slow and careful.

You’re side by side, your arms touching ever so slightly as you both stare up at the twinkling sky. There’s a nice silence that falls between you for a while until Vi finally speaks up. “So…? It was worth it right?” She mumbles softly, now staring at you with hopeful eyes. “Totally worth it.” You lean over into her more, unable to control your blushing face as she wraps a strong arm around your waist and pulls you against her even closer. “I knew you’d love it.” She can’t help but continue to stare…at you, not the sky. She could give a shit about some meteors. Tonight the plan was for you to stare up at the sky and for her to stare at you. She wants to take a mental picture of this moment with you, with your eyes wide and excited, with your lips slightly parted and turned up into a smile, the way your hands are in your lap and you’re fingers are all clasped together. There’s a special spot in Vi’s heart for you and every time you guys have a really sweet, soft moment like this, the spot grows bigger and bigger. Eventually, probably very soon, her whole entire heart will belong to you 💗

JINX 🦋

“Wake up!” You sit up abruptly in your bed, gasping in shock. “Huh?! What?!” Your adorably chaotic, blue haired girlfriend is kneeling next to you in your blankets, a smirk on her lips. “Hi.” She whispers sweetly now, batting her eyelashes at you. “Let’s go do something stupid.” She leans down to press a fast kiss to your forehead before she jumps back off the bed. She’s yanking you out of bed, giggling excitedly. “Get dressed! Wear something warm, it’s chilly out tonight.” Just as you’re finally getting your footing, you rub your eyes and yawn. “Where are…we going?” She grabs your hand and squeezes it excitedly. “It’s a surprise!” You sigh as you close your eyes tightly. “Okay but if Silco finds out, he’s gonna kill ME for letting this happen.” “Just hurry up and get dressed!” “Okay okay! Geez.”

You’re quick to throw on your clothes as Jinx watches you, bouncing up and down on her toes excitedly. As soon as you’re done, she links her arm with your and pulls you along to the window. “Ssshhh.” She whispers as she climbs out first and you follow after her. As soon as your feet hit the solid ground, her hand is in yours, your fingers laced together and she’s skipping with you following behind her. She’s humming and constantly glancing back at you with so much happiness plastered across her face. You can’t help but smile back at her, blushing at the amount of attention she’s showing you right now. You’d think you’d be used to it by now, but the butterflies and rapid heart rate will never not happen when you’re with her. She just makes you really nervous but in a good way.

“Come on, sleepy head. You’re falling behind.” She slips behind you and grabs your waist so quickly it makes your head spin. She’s basically pushing you now, snickering with anticipation as you continue on your way. “This way!” She shouts as she steers you to the right, making you laugh at the grip she has on your waist. Your laugh makes her laugh more, and when you glance back at her with a squinty-eyed grin you can see her cheeks are turning red.

She’s brought you to a piece of open land on the very edge of the city. It’s dirt all around you and the smog has lessened and it smells cleaner. “I’ve never been over here before.” You look over to see her standing by a big box, a devious look on her face. “Uhm…what’s that?” She opens it and pulls out her latest creation. “I…made…FIREWORKS!!!” “Oh my god, we are definitely getting arrested tonight.” “Noooo we aren’t. Shut up and come help me set these up.” You’re REALLY nervous now but you help her anyways.

As she nitpicks the way you’re doing stuff and where you’re putting things, you can’t help but laugh at her. She’s just so loud and blunt and outspoken. You like that about her though. You know exactly how she’s feeling at any given moment, you can read her like a book. “Okay okay! Go stand back there.” You’re all giddy and excited as you run away from her. “Keep going!” And you do. “Keep going!” And you do. “Okay stop!” And you do.

You turn and put your hands on your hips, watching her as she watches you. “Ready?” Your cheeks are staring to hurt from smiling as you nod your head in response to her. She lights the wicks of the fireworks and runs over to meet you. She stands behind you and wraps her arms around you tightly, resting her chin on your shoulder. “3…2…1…boom.” She whispers in your ear just before a loud bang echos all around you. You flinch a bit at the sound and she hugs you a little tighter. As loud as it was, it was a truly spectacular sight.

As the loud popping continues, you soon feel Jinx’s cold hands cover your ears, shielding them from the noise. You can feel her kiss the back of your head softly as you stare up at the sky full of bright, glowing colors. It takes you a second but you start to notice the fireworks are all the same two colors over and over again. They were your favorite colors. “Hey, those are my favorite colors.” “What?!” She shouts over the continuing noise. You shake your head at her and just sigh happily. She listened to you. As much as she loves to talk and get distracted, she actually listens to you and remembers little things about you like your favorite colors. She knows you so well.

As the fireworks die out and the noise becomes silence, Jinx pulls her hands from your ears and rests them on your shoulders. “What’d ya think?” You turn to face her and your hands fall into hers, your eyes droopy now. “I loved it. It was so pretty. I haven’t seen fireworks since I was a kid.” Her face is so soft and innocent and kind right now as she’s looking at you from behind some of her blue hair. “Yeah?” “Yeah.” She just stands there, gazing into your eyes as she fidgets with your hands. “You remembered my favorite colors.” Softly you pull a hand from hers and push her hair out of her face, wanting to see her pretty blue eyes. “Yep.” She smiles proudly. “How did you make those?” And now she’s looking away, trying to shake her hair back in front of her face. “Eh…don’t worry about it! And don’t tell Silco! Or Sevika!!!” If you had a nickel for every time she said ‘Don’t tell Silco’, you’d have enough money to get both of you out of the undercity. A laugh bursts from your mouth and travels through the cool nighttime air. It takes you a second to respond.

“It’ll be our little secret.”

CAITLYN 🤍

You’re tossing and turning in your sheets, unable to fall asleep. You’ve been stressed and restless lately, there was a lot going on in your life. As you stare up at your ceiling with heavy eyes, you hear a soft tap on your window. Then another one. And another one. You stand and make your way to the source of the sound, looking down to your front lawn to see Caitlyn throwing pebbles at your window. So cliche. A smile forms on your face as you slide your window open. “What are you doing here this late? Does your mother know where you are?” Your voice is soft as you tease her, careful not to wake anyone else in your house. She has a shy smile on her face as she gazes up at you. “I haven’t seen you all week! Come on. I have something to show you.” Sure, it was the middle of the night but how could you reject her, down there looking so happy to see you. “I’ll be right out!” You reply after a moment then retreat into your room to change out of your pajamas.

Once you’re changed and fully awake, you tip toe out your front door, careful to close it softly. You turn and run to Caitlyn, both of you smiling like crazy. Your bodies collide and you throw your arms around her, feeling her do the same. You hold each other for a while, just laughing softly and swaying back and forth. Finally, you pull away. “So…where are we going this late?” She gives you a cheeky grin and a wink. “You’ll see, darling.” Her hand slips into yours as she leads the way.

You were walking for a while, making small talk and catching each other up after being apart for a a while. She is so easy to talk to. Sometimes she interrupts you, but it’s only because she’s eager to share her thoughts with you before she forgets them. She often forgets what she was gonna say when she’s with you. Your eyes are just so easy to get lost in.

“Wait, is this your house?” She nods and continues walking, an excited look on her face. She opens the gate out front, letting you in before she closes it behind you. “What if your parents wake up?” She shushes you as she begins climbing the vine-wrapped lattice on the side of her house. You watch her for a moment before following along. Once on her roof, she holds your hand for support as you carefully walk along the shingles. Finally, she sits on a flat stretch of the roof and pulls you down next to her. “Now lay back and look up.” She lays back first and you second.

As your gaze meets the midnight sky, you’re greeted by an insanely large and bright full moon. It’s bright white and casts a pale shimmering light over the two of you. The view from her roof was perfect. “Whoa! This view is…just wow.” She hums in agreement, her hand still in yours. She really loves holding your hand. “It is quite lovely tonight, isn’t it?” Caitlyn looks over at you for a moment, her smile growing before she looks back to the sky. “You come out here a lot, don’t you?” A soft chuckle leaves her lips. “I do. I was out here earlier tonight and the moon was just so gorgeous it made me think of you. It’s so stunning it’d be selfish of me not to share it with you.”

Now you’re looking over at her, mouth open to respond but nothing would come out. She’s staring at you and you’re staring at her, both of you holding your breath. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Your soft voice makes her shiver a bit. You don’t give her the chance to respond. Within seconds your turning onto your side and pushing your lips against hers. A surprised moan rubbles in her throat as her hand moves up your arm. She rolls onto her side as her hand grips your shoulder, pulling you closer for just a second. Soon, your lips part and you can barely see her bashful smile in the moonlight.

“I’m glad you agreed to come out with me tonight.” “Yeah…me too.”

[piltoverfinest]

I said I would wait for Act 3 to post my final verdict but some thoughts just won't leave me alone. SPOILERS AHEAD!

Starting with Caitlyn and Maddie. I know we all love to see WLW representation but every single thing about this relationship feels wrong. How much time has really passed between Episode 3 & Episode 4? We don't know but either way after the way E3 left the situation with Cait & Vi, seeing her with Maddie first thing feels like a god damn slap in the face of everything Vi & Caitlyn had. Like Cait just moved on to the next person after leaving Vi sobbing on the ground. And I just...phew...that does not sit right with me. It takes so much importance from the emotional connection Cait and Vi were shown to have. Especially since Maddie & Cait's relationship doesn't seem to carry much importance for the plot? I am not sure why they had to add it at all? It doesn't change any stakes, Maddie doesn't change Cait's opinion not does she spurr her on. It adds nothing to the plot as a whole, or maybe not yet, so I am unsure why they added it in the first place? To add to that: Maddie is Caitlyn's subordinate. That power-dynamic is...questionable but I won't put too much focus on that since they are both adult women and I guess there's no rules against it? Still...questionable in my opinion.

I guess we will still find out what happened to Jayce? Because what the fuck kinda 180 degree turn did that man do that makes him go from going nuts over saving Viktor to killing him in cold blood? We need to get some explanation because otherwise...

Going from there: No Ekko and Heimerdinger? Nothing at all? I can only hope they get the main event in Act 3 but I don't see how there will be enough time for that? There's 3 episodes left? What about the firelights? Who took over while Ekko was gone? What are they doing all this time? Does noone miss Ekko? Heimerdinger, I get, since he left the academy before the whole thing happened and the only one who knows he came back is Jayce and well Jayce is...out of order, I guess.

Which leads us to the other character that did an almost 180 degree turn around: Jinx. Again, we do not know how much time has passed but we do know she appearently tried to reach out to Vi multiple times? Why? How? We left them at enemies at each others throats. And how did she suddenly get a grip on her own mental health from one day to the other? All because of Isha? I just do not buy into it, it happened to quickly and we didn't see enough moments of change to believe it, in my opinion. Suddenly Jinx isn't Jinx anymore, suddenly she's the good guy, the reasonable one, the one who seeks out Vi and saves Caitlyn from being torn to shreds? I just…I am missing some context here. Some filler scenes, a few moments where we see what changed her perspective.

Salo. Again, his story doesn't add anything to the plot. Him going to Viktor doesn't add anything to the plot. Yet? Maybe that will change but apart from him being a vessle for Viktor and Jayce to communicate, what is his purpose? And in addition, they have created this beautiful character in Lest but again, their whole story doesn't add anything to anything at all. Multiple scenes where we see Lest painting Salo with little to no impact (except for her giving info to Mel, which in turn also becomes a little pointless since Mel gets abducted almost instantly and can't use this information. Again: Yet?)

Cait & Vi's "Reunion". Wtf? That's all I have to say. I made no sense. None at all. Last we saw, Cait hit Vi with her rifle and left her a sobbing mess in the underground without ever looking back. And you want me to believe that the next time they meet Cait fucking bodyslams Vi to the ground and they immediately work together. When did Cait change sides again? When did she start working against Ambessa and why? And why in Gods name would Vi have ANY reason to trust her at all? With anything? There's no apology, no talk about what happened, no word about how they've been dealing with the whole situation. But suddenly Cait holds up Vi again, runs to her side to fight against the Noxians because...well, why exactly? We don't know. And I get it, we will get some more friction in Act 3 but apart from that there needs to be an actual conversation about these things and Caitlyn needs to apologize because otherwise I will throw my hat. I just don't buy it. I could add about a dozen more things that play out in my mind ever since I watched Act 2 but all in all, and I think that applies to all of the aformentioned points, there is not enough time for all of this. I am not giving up hope that they'll turn it around in Act 3. It has happened before. But I feel like this time there is just too many storylines and not enough time. This season would have needed 12 episodes, at the very least. Because all of this is just too much. The war between Piltover and Zaun, the thing with the Black Rose, the whole Medarda family mystery, the hextech core and the Arcane and how Jayce and Viktor fit into it, the relationships between the characters, the Warwick and Singed storyline, Ekko and the Firelights...it goes on and on and on. We are opening all of these boxes at once and I don't know how to feel about that. Do I still love the visuals? Yes. They're stunning. This show is still a masterpiece. Do I love the characters? Absolutely. I adore them. (Yes, even Caitlyn because I think her storyarc is actually really complex and interesting but some fandom takes are...also questionable, just leaving it at that.) And I want all of them to have a good ending. That doesn't necessarily mean a happy one, just a good one. This show is absolutely brilliant, I am not trying to take away from the well-deserved success and fanlove it recieves. I just feel like even with the time and money they had, their ambitions for this season were maybe a little too much for 9 episodes. They had to make sacrifices, storywise, and it shows.

[youwouldntbelievehowigothere]

@zelinkcommunity

second chapter of unnamed oot child timeline arranged marriage story.

<-Previous Chapter | First Chapter | Next Chapter->

CH 2: FORBIDDEN

Zelda awoke to the sensation of someone holding her hand. She glanced up to see Link squeezing her hand while asking “Navi?”

The fairy, she realized. She knew that, he’d spoken of her before. How could she have forgotten...

Link roused slowly. Noticing her, finally, he asked in a sleep-thick voice, “Princess?”

“You’re awake!” she marveled. The fact that he recognized her felt like a positive sign. 

“What are you…” he looked around slowly, a controlled grimace the only indication of the pain he was probably suffering. “What am I doing here? And why can’t I open my eye?”

At that, Zelda smiled sadly. 

“Oh Link, you’ve met with a terrible fate…” she started, unsure how to describe all that had happened. How she had found him, how they had gotten there.

Her words were perhaps too vague, as he went white as a sheet. He opened his mouth to speak, but already his eye started rolling back in his head. She dove to slow his collapse as he passed out. With her hands around his shoulders and now partially resting on his chest, she studied his face closer, searching for any clues as to why he had loss consciousness. 

He came to before she could compose herself, and the groggy, “Princess?” jolted her to sit back up.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered, “I– I shouldn’t have–” She took a breath. She was the princess of Hyrule, she couldn’t show her fear, even at a time like this. “We’re in the Kokiri village where you are receiving medical treatment after being ambushed by a team of Gerudo.”

He nodded, trying to furrow his brows, but wincing when his injured eye moved. 

“Can you remember anything?” she asked.

“I remember riding back from slaying a… whatever your father had asked me to slay. I can’t recall… a Gohma of some sort? Maybe? It had a lot of legs…” He laughed and it held a nervous quality. “My arm had been broken, so I was a bit slower coming back and then…” he trailed off in thought before asking, “So the Gerudo attacked me?”

“I think it was just a rogue faction, but…” Zelda started, not wanting to admit the one thing that was still eating at her. Most of the Gerudo had been thankful when Ganondorf had been tried and executed. He had been a cruel leader, fierce with dark magic and with no love for his people. Some, however, saw his cruelty as strength, and his plan to conquer Hyrule as good, even if he used monsters to accomplish it. Nabooroo had informed them of such a group, but only in that she was dealing with it.

A dark thought came to Zelda. What if that had been a lie? What if the Gerudo all loved their king, and hated the Princess and Hero that had foiled his plans for desolation?

She pushed those ideas away. There was nothing to suggest the group that had attacked Link were anything other than the radicals Nabooroo had warned them of. 

Link made a noise of acknowledgement. “How did you…?”

“How did I know?” she asked, “I had a dream…” she started, the dream and her memories painting a clear picture. Unbidden, tears welled in her eyes and she willed them away. Why was it only her nightmares became true? “I’m sorry Link, I should’ve done more.”

A rough hand came up to wipe away a tear and her eyes snapped open to the expression of longing that Link had. Just as quickly as the sentimental emotion started to come through, did something shift in him, and he dropped his hand. 

Zelda couldn’t help but feel disappointed. This is why she could never tell if she was misreading him or not. It had started after his return from Termina the hot-cold she would feel. But there were more important matters than her maiden’s heart. 

He cleared his throat. “I would’ve been dead if not for you.”

One of the Kokiri came in with breakfast. “Oh, he’s awake!” he said, his fairy flying in happy circles. 

Link studied the Kokiri and said, “Mido?”

“How do you know my name?”

“Do you not…?” Link shook his head. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

Zelda looked between the two of them. 

“Saria!” Mido yelled, leaving the house. 

Saria rushed in, and Zelda stood up to give her room. Though the room was so small she had to stoop.

“Saria?” Link asked, “how…?”

“Oh Link, I’m so glad to see you, though I wish the circumstances were better.”

“As do I…”

Zelda, feeling the reunion ought to have some privacy, left the room. She waited out of immediate ear range, and waited to be done. The other Kokiri kept their distance from her, and she was not tempted to push their boundaries. She wanted to stay close to Link, just in case–

Just in case what? The Gerudo attacked again?

She knew she would not fare so well this time around. Her magic needed time to recuperate, as she had used quite a few powerful spells on not so much sleep. She yawned, the little sleep she had not enough.

Up in the trees a blue light flittered around, and Zelda glanced up. 

“Are you Navi?” she asked the blue orb. The orb hurried its circles, but came down to be closer to Zelda’s eye level. 

She didn’t say anything, but Zelda took that as an affirmative. “Why did you help us?” the princess asked, “You disappeared, but I wasn’t sure where… Link left to go looking for you. It took a long time for him to come back.”

Navi didn’t say anything for a long while. Just as Zelda thought she wouldn’t get an answer, the fairy said, “I… I can’t be his fairy anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Only Kokiri can have fairies. He was raised by the Kokiri, but… when we returned from that future he… he was grown. Kokiri never grow up, so an adult could never have a fairy.”

“Who made that rule?” Zelda asked, scrunching her nose. It seemed unfair. Navi was obviously as torn up about it as Link was. 

“It’s just the way it is.”

Navi was clearly more upset by this rule of nature than Zelda was, so she dropped it. “Thank you for helping us,” she said instead, “if you hadn’t guided us who knows what would’ve become of Link.”

Navi didn’t say more, and flew away.

Zelda sat there for a few minutes more, her sluggish brain trying to make sense of all of it. If Navi could talk to her, why couldn’t she talk to Link?

Longingly, she glanced over to the small hut where he covelessed. This was his home, and from the sounds of it, he hadn’t been back since he’d left the first time. That would be dreadful, to have to leave home and never being able to return. An odd pang lit in her chest. Just dreadful.

The shade of the tree was pleasant and Zelda leaned against it, thinking to rest her eyes for a second. There was still a crick in her back from sleeping next to Link’s bed, but the excitement of the days had caught up with her. 

Before she could nod off completely, another fairy buzzed around her head. Great, more eternal children to entertain.

“Hello,” she greeted, wondering why now they would approach her, when before they had all been rather shy. 

“Are you a princess?” the girl asked.

Zelda nodded. “I am.”

“Where’s your tiara?” she asked.

“It’s in my castle.”

“You have a castle!” the girl exclaimed, “I want a castle!”

Zelda couldn’t help but smile. “I think this forest is very nice. We don’t have fairies at the castle.”

“You don’t?” she asked, “There was this boy who used to live here, who for the longest time didn’t have a fairy. He finally got one and went to the castle. He never returned though. Did you ever meet him?”

“I did.”

“Why hasn’t he returned?”

Zelda pursed her lips. Would the girl even understand who Link was? That he was a Hylian, not a Kokiri? That he had returned and she couldn’t recognize him? “Well, outside of the forest, children grow up.”

“Grow up?” she asked, “like get bigger?” reassessing Zelda, her eyes grew large. “Did you grow up?”

At that Zelda smiled. “Yes, I did.”

“Is that guy you brought a grown-up too?” 

Zelda nodded.

“Saria said he’s your husband.”

At that Zelda flushed scarlet. Was that what Saria had meant? Suddenly the odd things she’d said made sense. She was aware of the propriety of a princess spending unchaperoned time with a young man. Zelda had been so caught up in everything else, she hadn’t even thought about all the unchaperoned time spent with the Hero. 

Not that anyone had anything to worry about. Link would never treat her in an untoward way. And she could never beguile him, even if she wanted to. And maybe she did want to. Either way, nothing would happen with him just having returned from the gates of death. 

The Kokiri continued as if Zelda didn’t understand the concept. “Saria says the only time boys and girls can have sleepovers is if they’re married. But I don’t get why anyone would want a sleepover with boys. They’re so icky.”

Before Zelda could formulate a response, another Kokiri ran up to them. “Hey Princess,” he said, “Saria needs you.”

Zelda stood up, almost pleased to get out of that awkward situation. Granted it was to go to the object of her affection with someone who came to the false conclusion they were married.

When she saw Link sitting up in the bed, all thoughts of embarrassment were pushed aside in favor of concern. Even with healing potions, medical care, and now some rest and food, he still looked entirely too weak. Too fragile. Too mortal. 

Still, he tried to smile through the pain he was probably still experiencing as she entered the room. She couldn’t help but smile back.

“You called?” Zelda asked.

“Saria says I should be good to move,” Link said, “we probably need to get you back to the castle.”

She hadn’t even thought about what would happen when she returned! In her haste and worry she hadn’t even left a note. Impa could probably piece together what had happened, but her father would definitely assume she was kidnapped. 

“That’s odd for you to be the brash one,” he quipped, noting the surprise and worry on her face. 

If he was well enough to tease her, he was probably well enough to travel. 

“It would be best if he could see a healer,” Saria explained, “I think I did all that can be done, but I would be more than pleased to be wrong in this case.”

Saria gave Link a hug, one he reciprocated with a soft smile.

“I’m glad to have seen you once more,” the Kokiri said. Something was left unsaid. Zelda couldn’t know for sure, but she suspected Saria did not expect to see Link again. 

Zelda helped Link to stand, he limped slightly, and whistled for Epona. Sheepishly, he glanced at Zelda, and she knew he’d be shying away from her touch if he could. It was odd to be aided by a princess. Once on the horse, he led the way, Zelda walking by his side, and they said their last goodbyes. The Kokiri were still rather shy, but a few brave ones shouted after, and soon the whole lot of them were. 

Zelda couldn’t help but smile. 

Once into the forest, Link said, “It feels wrong to make you walk.”

At that she giggled. “You would feel that way with a sprained ankle. No, I can walk just fine, Hero.”

A melancholy passed over him at her address. “Who is Saria to you?” she asked, not liking the silence that was trying to settle.

The melancholy didn’t release its hold, but he smiled through it. “She took care of me the most of any Kokiri. She’s their leader and I think either a bit older, or just naturally a bit wiser than the rest of them. I don’t really know.”

“Thank the Goddesses for her,” Zelda said, “I did my best, but it was all so…” she trailed off, not wanting to relieve the terror that had gripped her.

“Clearly it was enough,” Link said, “I’m still here. Most of me at least.” The joke fell flat to her. He carried on, “How did you know I would be in danger?”

“I had a dream,” she answered, “though I wasn’t able to avoid that fate completely as I have in the past.”

“You did enough,” he said intensely, his sole eye almost burning through the mists of the forest, “You always do.”

The praise warmed her.

Zelda desperately wished to interpret it favorably, but she knew it would be foolish. Clearly Link considered such a thing forbidden. For what reason? She wasn’t sure.

~~~~~~~~

<-Previous Chapter | First Chapter | Next Chapter->

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Chapter 8: “"Mirages of the Mind: Anna's Dilemma"

Word count: 5,829

Harry x Anastasia || Fanfic series

Master Link || Chat with me

•••

Anna’s POV

I walk into the breakfast room and smile at my mother, father, and Syrus, feeling a mix of amusement and disbelief at seeing the villain himself enjoying his strawberries as if he weren't blackmailing people in his quest for the crown. He looks so innocent, pretending to be a devoted family man who loves having breakfast with his brother and sister-in-law. I approach the table, offering another smile as I take my father's cup of coffee. "I'm sure you'll need this for your hangover," he remarks, unimpressed by my gesture.

“I am not hung over,” I respond. “I saw you at the bar, you set me up,” I accuse Syrus at the breakfast table, my words making my mother pause mid-bite, her eyes darting to mine.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Syrus replies, his tone calm as he takes a sip of his coffee. “I was at the cottage.”

“You’re lying,” I shake my head, adamant. “I saw you watching me.”

“I don't find your life that enthralling to watch, Anna. That’s your security guards’ job,” he retorts with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“But you were there,” I insist.

“Anna,” my father cuts in, his voice firm, “He was at the cottage with me. I can confirm that.”

“I know what I saw,” I counter, feeling isolated in my certainty.

“You must be mistaken,” my father suggests soothingly. “It’s okay, it happens. You’ve been under a lot of stress, and we all see things that aren’t there, especially after a few drinks.”

Their dismissals are smooth, and calculated, and my discomfort grows with each word. They’re wrong, I think, even as a sliver of doubt creeps in. Am I truly recalling what I saw, or is the stress finally getting to me? The certainty I felt wavers, but deep inside, the truth gnaws at me, persistent and unsettling.

I stare at the three of them, looking for answers that I won’t find. “Mother?” I look towards her, unsure of why she hasn’t said a word.

“I was also with them at the cottage,” my mother confirms with soft eyes. “You did have a lot of tequila, honey.”

I nod my head in defeat. Did the tequila deceive me? Surely not.

I walk out of the room and find myself in a secluded part of the palace, a space filled with paintings and art pieces that are covered with sheets. The room is large and dimly lit, with only a few overhead lights casting a soft glow on the covered artworks. The air is cool and carries a faint scent of dust and old canvas.

The darkness feels oppressive. I slide down the wall, resting my back against the wall as I hit the floor, my head in my hands. My mind is a battleground, and I am losing.

"Did I really see Syrus?" I mutter to myself, the words barely audible. The image of him at the bar is so clear, so vivid. I can still picture the way his eyes met mine. But now, doubt seeps in, insidious and cold.

Could it have been the tequila? I shake my head, trying to dispel the thought. I've had my share of moments, and alcohol has never played tricks on my mind like this before. But everyone else is so sure. They were all at the cottage. They all say I was too drunk to know what I saw. I swear he was there. He handed me a drink.

I get up and start pacing, the motion giving me a semblance of control.

The questions swirl, each one more damning than the last. "Am I really losing it?" I ask the room. My reflection in a gold mirror looks back at me, eyes haunted and tired. "Is this what it's come to? Seeing ghosts in bars and doubting my own sanity?"

Is this what is coming to? Talking to myself in a room trying to convince myself that I am sane… It’ is only insane if I answer my own questions, right? Fuck, maybe I am losing my sanity like I am everything else.

I close my eyes, trying to steady my racing thoughts. What if the stress is getting to me? What if this is just a symptom of everything I've been dealing with lately? Work, family, and the constant pressure to keep it all together. Maybe my mind is finally cracking under the weight.

But then I think of Syrus, of the way he looked at me. It felt real. It was real. I know it was.

"Or was it?" I whisper, the doubt creeping back in.

*** Flash Back ***

“Shots on me,” I grin, gesturing for a round of shots for the new friends’ I have encountered while on a tequila high, tequila running through my veins— giving me a new sense of freedom and being on fire in an excillering way. It feels like I have unearthed a new sort of high where nothing and nobody can damper my spirits. I want to feel the rush of tequila down my throat and the beat of the music never end amongst the sensations of bodies dancing. It’s a feeling I have never had the privilege to feel before, which is odd— privilege is something most would say I have— how ironic.

I throw my head back, the clear, cold tequila humming through my body as I bite down on the lime, the thrill radiating as we all smile with twinkling eyes. I'm drinking with random people, trying to keep my cover as a princess. The strangers around me are blissfully unaware, and I relish the freedom of anonymity. My laughter blends with theirs, my eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and apprehension. I never want this night to end. Is this what freedom truly is? I want to live on this high for as long as possible.

Then, out of nowhere, I see him. He’s standing against a wall, a smirk painted across his face, the overhead lights casting a dark shadow on his face. “What did you say your name was?” A girl asks me as she hands me another shot.

I smile at her, taking the chilled tequila in my hand, “Sophie,” I respond, taking the shot and eyeing the man in view. I glare at him as the lime touches my lips. I can’t believe he’s here, lurking in the shadows, acting as though I cannot see him.

The man wanders closer, “Smile,” Syrus laughs, holding his phone up and taking a photo of me, “Parliment is going to love this.”

I lift my shoulders into a shrug, “And you will still never have the crown,” I respond with a mischievous chuckle. Fuck him, and the crown.

“And, you my dear are irrelevant now,” he responds, “Here, have another,” he hands me a glass.

I cock my head to the side, “It isn’t tequila.”

Syrus shakes his head, “It’s better,” he responds, “It’s second best to tequila, whiskey. Go ahead, take a drink.”

A voice inside my head tells me not to, but the devil on my shoulder who doesn’t have a care in the world takes the drink, downs it and hands the empty glass back to Syrus, my eyes staring him dead in the eyes. “I will see you on the other side,” I smile.

“Bold,” he comments before stepping away, leaving me alone with the unknown bodies around me.

The club spins around me, bright lights flashing like dismantled stars burning out, yet still managing to blink in my vision. I take a heavy breath, feeling the tequila take over my body, clouding my thoughts and numbing my fears. I know I've screwed up, and even though I’m terrified of what awaits in the shadows at the end of this tequila high, I can’t help but love every moment of this chaos. The club is bouncing, a dizzying sensation pulling at my head as I dance among a group of girls, our drunken giggles barely audible over the pounding music and the hollering men at the bar.

I dance with a blonde girl—was her name Ivy? Or Mia? No, it was Ivy. Her smile widens, her eyes glistening with a flicker of lust as she cocks her head to the side. "Now, that's a man if I ever saw one," she says with a cheeky grin.

I spin around on my heel a little too fast, and my breath hitches in my throat when my body collides with a familiar scent and piercing blue eyes. Oh, I am really screwed now.

His presence sends a shiver down my spine, a mix of excitement and dread pooling in my stomach. The music seems to fade as my heart races, pounding louder than the bass. I try to steady myself, but the tequila has other plans. His eyes lock onto mine, and I see a flicker of dismay in his gaze.

"Anna," he says, his voice a low, rough whisper that cuts through the noise. I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. I force a smile, trying to mask the whirlwind of emotions inside me.

"Hey," I manage to say, my voice sounding steadier than I feel. I can feel Ivy’s curious eyes on us, but I can't tear my gaze away from him. He steps closer, his hand brushing against my arm.

"We need to talk," he says, and there's no mistaking the seriousness in his tone. “And you,” Niall flashes a charming smile at Ivy and leans in close, his voice smooth and confident. "Can I borrow your friend for a minute? I promise to bring her back safe and sound. And when I do, how about I make it up to you with a drink?"

I roll my eyes at Niall and notice Ivy smirk as she nods her head. Niall smiles before he takes my hand, leading me away from the dance floor. I glance back at Ivy, who gives me a knowing look and a thumbs-up. I force a smile in return, but inside, I’m a mess of nerves and anger wanting to boil over. Who the fuck is Niall to interrupt and drag me away?

As we weave through the crowd, the music fading into the background, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m walking into something I’m not ready for.

Niall leads me to a bar and a cock an eyebrow. Odd place to bring me. More tequila? As if he reads my thoughts he shakes his head, and opens a hidden door beside the stacks of glasses and bottles, ushering me into a small, dimly lit room. It feels like stepping into another world, with the music now muffled and distant, the air cooler and less stifling but I feel suffocated. My eyes meet the bartender as he pushes off the wall, “Feel free to make yourself comfortable,” he gestures around, “I have a bar to get to, and I guess explain that you are my sister and not the Princess,” he smiles, walking out and leaving me with Niall.

"So," Niall begins as I sit down and press my back against the wall, kicking off my heels. "Do you want to call your security team or shall I?"

I glare at him, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't know you were moonlighting as my personal assistant now. Do you handle all damsel-in-distress calls, or am I just that special?"

Niall chuckles, leaning against the wall with a smirk. "Only the special ones, Anna. Besides, someone's got to keep an eye on you. You have a knack for finding trouble." His eyes soften slightly as he adds, "But seriously, you okay? You don’t usually do this without Harry."

“I don’t have to do everything with him around,” I respond.

Niall nods his head, “Fair enough, I guess I am calling him?”

“Well, I’m sure as fuck not going to,” I respond bitterly, leaning my head back and closing my eyes with a sigh.

No matter how much tequila I pour down my throat, it doesn't wash away the weight of stress on my shoulders. And no amount of tequila can erase the crown that always seems to rest on my head, no matter how many times I try to pawn it off like an unwanted chess piece.

The weight of expectations presses down on me like a heavy cloak, suffocating and relentless. No one bothered to consider my desires or fears; they simply thrust the crown upon my head and expected me to carry on as if nothing had changed. But everything has changed. I long to know the feeling of true freedom, to breathe without the weight of duty bearing down on me.

Home should be a sanctuary, a place of solace and comfort. Yet, for me, it's a fleeting concept, a distant dream. It's not confined within the walls of a palace, but rather within the heart of a man whose love I can't return in the way he deserves. He deserves better than to be tethered to my uncertain fate, better than to be ensnared in the web of politics and tradition. Home isn't always four walls; sometimes, it's found in the rhythm of a heartbeat. As poetic and sweet as that may sound, it leaves me unsettled to realize that my home resides within a man with green eyes, a man who doesn't wish to marry me— a man who has his own secrets he doesn’t wish to share. Within the intricate dance of palace life, there's another player with his own secrets, hidden behind the façade of charm and charisma. He moves with a quiet confidence, his every step calculated, his every word a carefully crafted illusion. My drunk thoughts whisper of his ties to a world far removed from the glamour of royalty, a world where secrets are currency and trust is a luxury.

I ache to break free from these constraints, to carve out a path that's truly mine. But for now, I'm trapped in a world that's not of my choosing, yearning for a sense of belonging that seems forever out of reach.

I glance at Niall as he pulls out his phone, a mischievous glint in my eyes. "Careful," I begin, my words laced with a tipsy slur. "You might open a can of worms."

"How so?" Niall's curiosity piques.

I chuckle, feeling the warmth of the alcohol coursing through me. "His people are going to be mad when they find out."

"Find out what?" Niall looks puzzled.

"About us," I reply, my words trailing off as I notice the rip in my stockings. "Really mad."

Niall's confusion deepens. "I don't understand."

I tilt my head, my gaze unfocused yet intense. "Secrets are currency and trust is a luxury," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.

Niall raises an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and intrigue dancing in his eyes. "Poetic and drunk," he remarks with a smirk, but I can sense he's caught onto something deeper beneath my intoxicated ramblings.

"He doesn't trust me," I murmur, the words slipping out like a confession. "I'm like his dirty little secret, hidden away in the shadows while he parades around in the light." The hurt lingering beneath the surface like a festering wound.

“You’re just a little drunk.”

"And yet I am still in my right mind," I retort with a smirk, my words slightly slurred from the tequila. "Well, mostly. At least enough to know that I should probably stop talking before I accidentally spill all the secrets. Can't have that, now can we?" I chuckle, a hint of mischief dancing in my eyes.

"Secrets like what?" Niall asks, his curiosity evident in his tone.

“Like I want to marry him,” the words leave my lips effortlessly. “And that he’s—” I stop speaking as Niall’s phone goes off and he answers it, leaving me in my drunken thoughts. “He’s been lying to me,” I whisper, the tequila high slowly wearing off. I want more tequila, I don’t want to feel these feelings. I want to find the bottom of the bottle and wash it all away.

*** end flashback**

Harry’s pov

I rub my tired eyes as I navigate yet another endless hallway, the ornate details blurring together. Exhaustion weighs heavily on me, and my mind races with a thousand worries. I take a deep breath and go over my mental checklist: review the security cameras, escort the king at noon, remind Anna that I love her, call my sister and father, and section of the tunnels.

“We have an issue,” Niall seizes my arm in the hallway, his grip like a vice.

“I’m busy,” I respond, my mind scattered in a hundred directions, none of them on Niall.

“No, this isn’t some bogus issue we discuss over poker,” he growls, yanking me back with unexpected force. Alarm bells ring in my head.

“What is it?” I sigh, irritation bubbling up; the last thing I need is another problem.

“Anna has a meeting with parliament.”

“And why are you telling me?” I snap, impatience threading through my voice.

“Because you’re the one fucking her,” he spits out, his eyes blazing, “you’re the only one who can convince her that threatening them is a terrible idea.”

“What?” My eyes widen, shock slamming into me. “And I am not fucking her,” I mutter, my voice dropping to a fierce whisper.

“Come with me to the throne room,” he demands, his tone brooking no argument. He drags me along, leaving me no choice but to follow.

I wander into the Throne room with Niall, where I perceive Anastasia resting on the throne with one of the Royal swords on her lap. Her hand travels down the edges of the cover while the men of Parliament watch, all standing in proper suits. I glance towards Matthew, and he shrugs his shoulders subtly, indicating he has no clue what's going on. I step closer to him, my eyes focused on Anastasia. Anastasia takes the sword from its case and caresses her finger to the tip of the blade, gazing at the polished piece effortlessly and holding more power than I ever imagined attainable. Anastasia cocks her head to the side and smiles at the men, "I assume you're wondering why you're all gathered here today?" Anastasia questions, and the men all nod their heads, a few grunts escaping while a few shoes shuffle against the flooring.

I'm not sure whether this is good or bad, something inside me tells me I need to stop her, but I cannot.

This is her power. Not mine. On the other hand, I'm mildly turned on by this.

"You all know about the history of this sword, right?"... "We know it isn't The Sword of Mercy since this isn't the coronation of the British monarch." Anastasia begins, "This one holds so much history. I can only imagine how many people saw the wrong end of this," Anastasia stops glancing at the sword. She glances towards the parliament members, "In fact, in 1852, this very sword was used by King Aldrich, who slashed the arms of all the men who did him wrong. Legend has it, all men who were slashed three times and managed to fight off infection were cursed for the rest of their pitiful lives."

"Oh, God," I mutter under my breath, "Matthew, do you see this?"

"Shh, I want to hear the rest," Matthew responds, overseeing each man. "If you're not taking the throne beside her, shut up." Matthew presses, giving me his stern stare. He means business. I have no intention of taking the seat beside her. I don't believe it is my place or my throne. I roll my eyes and swallow my thoughts; instead, I shut my mouth and watch.

The men all have bewildered expressions on their faces, and a few seem to move their weight from foot to foot nervously. "Princess—"

"I'm not done speaking," Anastasia corrects one of the men, causing me to chuckle to myself. Damn.

Anastasia clears her throat and stands from her position on the throne, "As I was saying before, I was rudely interrupted by a man who seemingly is ready to use his male influence in an attempt to degrade me... This sword has a lot of history," Anastasia waves it around, "Don't be alarmed, I don't plan to use it just yet… a raise of hands who are the followers of Syrus,” Anna instructs, and the crowd stays quiet. “Oh, don’t be shy, I know who you are,” she chimes happily, forcing a few of the men to raise their hands. “Don’t make me name you one by one,” Anna smiles.

“Harry, are you going to watch?” Niall whispers, stunned by the events.

“I have no choice,” I respond, “Who am I to silence her from making a statement?”

A few men raise their arms silently. Anna clears her throat, “You're all banished. You're no longer my parliament members; I hereby dissolve you," Anastasia proclaims, gesturing the tip of the sword between the gathering of men who believe in Syrus.

"Her Majesty," one of the members begins, "You can't get rid of all of us."

"Oh, I can," Anastasia replies coolly. "But if you wish to redeem yourself, you're more than welcome to bow and repent." She gestures towards the small space at the bottom of the steps.

"Have you lost your mind?" another member declares, visibly shocked.

"I think you have if you think speaking to the future Queen with that tone is acceptable."

"You don't have power. You have a crown, which means nothing when you can't rule a country. You're unfit. The sovereign's powers are those of her government." The man’s face turns crimson, and his hands clench into fists.

I hold my breath, not liking his tone but deciding to give Anastasia a chance to stand up for herself as Queen.

"And my government is riddled with evil ties. Following Syrus is not an option. I will not stand for it any longer," she declares, her voice unwavering. Bold mood outing her dislike for her own Uncle. "Those who support my uncle's treacherous ambitions will find no place here."

"You think you can just dismiss us?" another member sneers, stepping forward. "We are loyal to the crown. Syrus is the rightful heir, and the most sane."

"Loyal to a tyrant?" Anastasia's eyes blaze with determination. "I will not allow this kingdom to fall into the hands of a man who seeks to corrupt and destroy it. Those who stand with him will be dealt with accordingly."

"And what will you do?" the crimson-faced man challenges, his voice dripping with disdain. "You are but one woman."

"One woman who has the courage to fight for what is right," Anastasia retorts. "And I am not alone. There are many who believe in a just and honourable rule. I am their Queen, and I will protect this kingdom from the likes of Syrus and his followers."

"You will regret this," the man hisses, but Anastasia stands firm.

"The only regret I would have is allowing evil to prevail. Now, leave this place, or bow and repent. The choice is yours," she commands, her gaze steady and unyielding.

The room falls silent as the members exchange uneasy glances. One by one, they begin to bow, recognizing the strength and resolve in their future Queen.

"I declare she is forced to abdicate, and she cannot have the crown!" One shakes his head mid-bow.

"The final call doesn't belong to you, sir," Anastasia responds, "And if the other members of Parliament don't have the balls to back you, I think it's safe to say that I, the future Queen, have dissolved you.” … "You may all leave… and just as a reminder," Anastasia brings the tip of the sword to her finger yet again, "Don't forget the sovereign's powers are those of her government and the world leaders behind her," Anastasia dismisses the men who instantly start quarrelling, their booming voices bouncing off the marble flooring.

I shake my head and stare at Niall, "This is either going to be good or fucking bad." I murmur before making my way to Anna. I push through the men and climb the few steps where I stand before her while she sits on her throne. "Anna," I begin, unsure what I'm meant to say. I'm not sure if I'm meant to be proud or concerned. The repercussions of this could be grave and impact us horribly.

"That sword won't protect you from a storm of angry men," I comment, just heavy enough for the two of us to understand.

"They're too busy fighting amongst themselves," Anastasia shrugs, "Dissolving them was the right thing to do."

I know she is correct, but this will open a can of worms that we don't want to deal with. Security will have to be heightened further.

"Live by the sword, die by the sword, Anna. I hope you know what you're doing." I am concerned she is holding a power that she can't keep a grasp of.

Anastasia peers at me and shrugs, "Guess I better make it worth dying for," she responds, "You don't have to agree with me."

"I'm concerned for your safety when it comes to dissolving these pricks. They could rebel and burn down the place."

"They don't have torches and pitchforks," Anastasia stands from her position and hands me the sword before kissing my cheek, "Keep this close, my darling."

I regard as Anastasia steps away from me, and I glare towards Matthew before scanning the room. Then, finally, I shake my head and follow Anastasia, trailing her away from the hostile parliament fellows and settling into a peaceful space. "Anna, what's your plan here?" I challenge, taking Anna by surprise as she spins on her heels. "Again, you need to be aware of your surroundings," I comment, aware she was not paying attention to the fact I followed her in here.

"Don't try to make me doubt my decision. I don't tell you how to do your job."

"Contrary to belief, you do," I shake my head in irritation, "But that isn't what I was asking. I am asking as your—." I trail off, realizing I have no real ground to interrogate her. I’m not her husband; I’m simply the quiet boyfriend who’s left in the dark.

I grow silent for a moment, clenching my jaw in frustration before shaking my head. "I am going back to work."

"Harry," Anna calls out as I turn to walk away. I stop in my tracks and sigh heavily, turning back around to face Anastasia. "You’re asking as my what?"

"Anna, I need to go to work."

"I’m never going to be anything more than the girl who’s in love with you, am I?" Anastasia asks, her eyes narrowing as she steps closer to me.

“Are we back to this topic again?” I snap, my irritation rising. “If I haven’t proven to you that you mean the world to me, then you clearly aren’t taking note. I need to go.”

“You agree with them, don’t you? That I shouldn’t be Queen. And that’s why you won’t go any further with me."

"Anna, be careful before you dig up something you don't want to dig up."

"What do you know that I don't?" Anastasia questions.

"Please don't make me tell you. I am begging." I breathe out, desperately not wanting to explain anything. I want to be with this woman more than anything but I can’t give her what she’s wanting right now. She’s wanting security and a damn ring.

Her eyes search mine, hurt and determination mingling in their depths. "Why can't you just be honest with me, Harry? What are you so afraid of?"

I feel my patience slipping. "I am being honest. You need to stop questioning everything and trust that I care about you."

"Then why does it feel like you're always holding back?" she demands, stepping even closer, her voice rising. "Like there's always something more important than us?"

My hands clench at my sides, my irritation boiling over. "Because sometimes there is, Anna! Sometimes there are things bigger than us, things I have to deal with. But that doesn't mean I don't care about you. I need to go to work. We'll talk later."

She shakes her head, her expression a mixture of anger and despair. "I'm tired of waiting, Harry. One day, you're going to have to choose."

I turn away, the weight of her words pressing heavily on me, my frustration simmering just beneath the surface. I know I am going to have to come clean and choose, I know the day is coming.

I sigh heavily and turn back to Anna. Anastasia stands in front of me, cocking her head to the side as her beautiful eyes burn into me. With each moment that passes, I feel like I am on trial for murder and being examined intently, judged if you will. "Do you believe them?"

I instantly shake my head, "No, baby." She wants reassurance that those men of parliament were wrong and that Syrus is wrong. However, holding a knife in the Palace doesn’t scream: ‘I’m a sane Queen.’

“Try not to stab anyone while I am working," I instruct, kissing her lips quickly.

Anastasia smiles and chuckles before shrugging her shoulders, "I cannot promise anything. You taught me how to use a knife well."

I shake my head, "Am I going to regret that?" Then, I question, "Because I am going to need a heads up if I need to move and hide a body."

Anna relocates her hair from around her face and shifts it behind her shoulders to fall down her back. "I'll ask Pippa for help; you seem to think she is good for things.”

"Oh, God," I mutter, "Goodbye, Anna, I will see you later," I chuckle, stepping away from her and walking out of the quiet room. I enter into the hallway of bustling staff, almost getting knocked over by one. "Watch it," I warn, letting out a breath.

The man glares at me, and I raise a brow as he shuffles past me and continues on his journey. I shake my head disapprovingly but shrug it off. It isn't my place to tell the staff what to do, but I expect they don't run around like chickens with their heads cut off, running into everyone.

I make my way down the hallway, listening to the in-ear as Oliver and Matthew debate who is meant to be on surveillance in the security chambers. I roll my eyes at the two of them, chuckling to myself before I peer into each office, trying to find Anna's mother, Willow.

I encounter her at a desk and knock on the door out of respect, waiting for her to send me off. Instead, Willow gestures at me, and I close the door behind me. "Must be private if you're closing the door," she laughs.

I nod my head and step closer to her desk. "You're serious," she presses, and I nodded again.

"Your Highness," I begin, but she graciously cuts me off.

"For the love of God, call me Willow.”

I clear my throat, "Sorry, Willow," I correct myself, feeling weird to have her name leave my lips. "I need to inform you that your daughter is inciting a war with parliament and Syrus while Alaric is off for the day."

Willow stares at me and puts her pen down, "Well, I didn’t expect that. I figured Anna was up to something when she asked where the sword was."

"And you gave it to her?" I curiously ask.

Anastasia's mother shrugs her shoulders and picks her pen up between her fingers, "Harry, her killing those men would be the least of my problems; they have it coming."

"What is it with you women being on a killing spree today?" I question lightly.

Willow doesn't respond; instead, she continues to write on her paper. I can only assume she is replying to a letter of some sort, "Parlament is not my problem, it’s Alaric and Anna’s. I’m just a silent woman who signs papers and writes notes.”

“You’re not concerned?” I ask.

Willow seals an envelope and stamps it before hovering it over her desk, gesturing for me to take it. I accept the vanilla envelope and look at her, "Will you make sure this is sent off?" she questions, and I nod my head. I am unsure why she is asking me to deliver her mail; she has an assistant who does that, but who am I to tell her no? "But no, I am not concerned. Anna’s taking over, as long as she’s firing men, it means she’s fighting for the monarchy.”

"We have different views," I respond, looking down at the envelope.

Willow takes me away from my thoughts, "Anastasia is doing what I’d have done if given the power. Syrus’ sheep can find other things to do. We both know he and his posse don’t need to be near the crown.”

I bow my head and hide my smirk before I make eye contact with Willow, "I have another question if you have time. I have two."

"My time is valuable, son. Make it worth it," Willow smiles towards me, and I chuckle.

I think for a moment, debating whether I want to ask the question or not. I know this may be crossing the line, but I need answers, and Willow is my source right now.

“Is she going to rule?” I question, “Syrus and Alaric don’t seem to be on the same page.”

Willow shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, “I can only hope she figures out the ties of this monarchy and learns to overpower Syrus and the family.” … “Why do you care so much?” she questions.

I lift my shoulders into a shrug, “Curiosity.”

“Mhm,” she hums, “don’t you have a flight to prepare for?”

I stare at her with a raised brow. How does she know about my flight? Anna doesn’t even know I am leaving tonight for a few hours.

Willow chuckles, “Catch you off guard? That’s rare.”

“How do you know I have a flight? I haven’t told anybody.”

“I have my ways of finding out everything. Barcelona is nice.”

“You aren’t supposed to know where I am going,” I mutter, concerned as to how she knows where I am going. Nobody is meant to know.

Willow’s smile widens, her eyes sparkling with a knowing glint. “Harry, you should know by now that there are no secrets in our world. Especially not from someone who’s learned a trick or two.”

I narrow my eyes, my mind racing. In our line of work, being caught off guard could be deadly. “And what world is that?”

She leans in slightly, her voice barely a whisper. “The world where curiosity isn’t just a trait, but a necessity.” Her gaze locks onto mine, and for a moment, I see a reflection of my own guarded secrets in her eyes.

A cold sweat breaks out on my back. Could she know? The thought of my secret being revealed sends a wave of panic through me.

“I see,” I say carefully, masking my concern with a casual tone. “Curiosity can be dangerous, you know.”

Willow's smile never falters. “Only for those who have something to hide.”

I swallow hard, the weight of unspoken truths hanging heavy in the air. Willow knows more than she lets on, and in this game, knowledge is power. If she knows about my secrets, I need to find out how—and fast.

[truly-morgan]

[JC learns to play an instrument to impress NHS]

SangCheng | Mo Dao Zu Shi Modern AU 26-12-2021

[#sangcheng, modern, fluff]

jiang cheng wasn't really the artist of the house, wwx was. He was more into swimming than learning about painting and music. Sure, he could enjoy both these things, he was simply not skilled at them (or at least didn't believe he was) Still, he forced his ass to learn how to play the guqin.

all because he wanted to impress Nie Huaisang.

He knew the young man was really into a different kind of art and was himself skilled in many things. He wanted to be good at one of these things too.

He knew that even if nhs came to his competition, it was probably not as exciting as when he would bring him to see some art exposition or a concert.

He thought that if he could learn that he could impress him.

it took him a lot of courage to ask lxc if he could help him learn the guqin. He was even willing to pay for the time spent on teaching him!

lxc was taken aback but quickly agreed, happy to see someone so eager to learn. of course, he would get rather amused when he learns what his reason is, but even more willing to help him out (jwy truly would be a good match for little a-sang! even da-ge would agree!)

and so jc decided to put a lot of effort into it, sometimes getting frustrated when he wouldn't get it right easily.

even lqr would occasionally help when lxc happens to have an urgency or not be available. it is always a pleasure seeing someone so eager to learn, even better when it is such a diligent student such as jc.

his plans to surprise nhs are screwed one day when he is training alone in the music room of the lan house. nhs decided to tag along with nmj to visit xichen-ge (and maybe get intel on jc who seemed suddenly close to him).

he wanted to see if he could listen to whoever was playing music, only to find jc practising, looking rather serious and focused on what he is doing.

he watches in silence, enjoying the sigh of the man he likes playing music.

jc jumps at the sound of applause when he is done with the new parts he learned, looking at the door to see he had been watched all this time.

He blushes when he sees the knowing smile on the young man's lips, unsure what to say right now.

"a-cheng is such a good musician" nhs complimented, joining him to sit next to jc.

"I am sure some parts were wrong" jc pointed out, even he could tell. This man nhs smile, gently bumping his shoulder with his.

"you are doing very good for someone who couldn't do any music a couple of weeks ago" he assured him, sounding sincere. This made jc smile, feeling warm at the thought that nhs truly thought he was doing good.

"Why don't you play some more for me, I want to hear you play".

of course, jc indulged, doing his best not to mess up, letting nhs guide him if he did something wrong.

maybe learning with the person he liked was even better than surprising him with his newly learned skill.

Original

[ssaalexblake]

Don't you think that it's a bit dodgy how 13 basically kills a TARDIS to kill the Daleks and never gets called out on it?

Oh it's super messed up she did it, it's also a bit messed up she wasn't called on it, either, lbr, but this has been one of those things i'm not sure how i feel about. Because hm, hello, that was a murder. That they didn't face consequences for, or even a call out. But also, it's not the first time the doctor's done a murder and not been called on it or faced any consequences for, it happens occasionally.

I know it's happened more than once, but hilariously the only one i can remember rn is one also written by chibnall. Maybe he just has a ~thing (I am talking about dinosaurs on a space ship, which is an episode i hate and probably only remember Because i can't stand it, but still). I distinctly remember rewatching the episode and thinking to myself that I could add that to my list of episodes where the doctor offs somebody, and now I can't remember the others, which is typical, really. Though, I personally think 12 pushed the guy, because he'd never have jumped on his own, so that moment's on the list.

(this whole list was a Thing to start with bc i find it fascinating that the doctor sometimes casually does genocides and doesn't catch Half the fandom crap for it than they do if they kill one person. Something something about crimes that we are able to comprehend and feel emotionally and those we aren't. Like, I cannot comprehend the total annihilation of a species in a single second at all, but I can comprehend a single death and have an emotional response to that one. I find it fascinating ngl).

But to get back on subject, in the end, I think my real answer to this would be to say that it depends on Why she's not called on it. When it aired, people in fandom immediately clocked what she'd done was bad and messed up, so obviously a telling was not strictly Necessary in that people worked it out for themselves.

But, was she not called out for it in the show bc A) they didn't believe it was Necessary to do so bc it wasn't supposed to be bad, B) they didn't believe it was necessary to do so because they realised the audience members both old enough to understand and familiar enough with the snow to know tardises are alive would realise what had happened Without mentioning it and know what she'd done was bad without a hand hold or C) she was not called on it simply because there was nobody To call her on it.

Or it could be a mix of the three different things above. Like, they thought it was messed up for her to do it, but she simply was not called on it bc it was exactly like a few of her other greatest and very messed up hits. Nobody had the context to call her on it, so she wasn't called on it even though it Was messed up just because nobody knew it was messed up.

I like, work on a case by case basis as to whether media should call out its characters for bad behaviour and if it's wrong for them not to because you can't paint everything with the same brush and have any sense of nuance, so I guess I think it depends on if you think it's acceptable or not for a show to portray a character doing something bad that is obviously bad without mentioning it, and if that not doing so implies any kind of acceptance of it. I don't think in general the lack of call outs in media imply acceptance, personally, but that doesn't mean there aren't times when call outs Are necessary.

But I do genuinely think it depends on their reasoning as to if it's actually dodgy they didn't do it or not. Like, if they didn't call her on it bc she apparently did nothing wrong, that's dodgy as hell. If they didn't because they portrayed something bad and trusted the audience to get that without being told, that's ambiguous to me and i am personally unsure how i feel about this instance, and since i've not worked it out in two years, I don't expect to any time soon.

If they didn't do it for watsonian reasons involving the lack of informed knowledgeable characters actually there to call her on it, then i'm fine with that in a vacuum? The fam don't ever actually work out if they think the tardis is alive or some kind of super argumentative AI and that 13 implodes one would probably suggest the ai thing to them, lets be real (even though they'd be very wrong, she hides her worst from them). Jack has basically been trained by the doctor to not ask too many questions at this point by the doctor treating him awfully when he does, And on top of that, he's more ruthless than the doctor to start with and I doubt he'd care much.

I think, in general, instead of a callout, i'd have personally liked a Consequence instead? I don't think bad actions necessarily require a call out bc audiences aren't thick and neither are kids, especially In context of the lack of people to call her out on it. But I do think that consequences should be more often utilised unless you're deliberately showing a moment where somebody Gets Away With Something.

So I'd have loved a consequence for her. Like, 13 desperately needs another tardis being alive and well to do something vital and Oh No the world is going to burn to a cinder bc she killed the last one in a callous last ditch plan which suddenly makes it very clear exactly What she did by killing one! So she's slapped in the face by it even though she didn't have anybody to call her on it at the time. The audience is reminded that what she did was wrong without compromising characterisation, ~viola.

TLDR, it depends on Why she wasn't called on it as to if i think it's necessarily dodgy she wasn't (personally i'd have called her on it, but I don't think it's an automatic black mark she wasn't considering the circumstances of there being nobody would could effectively do so), but i do think it's dodgy she didn't catch any consequences for it, actually? idk, i would have done it differently but i'm a terrible writer so I don't know how. I also would like to know the plan for this show pre-pandemic so i can see what didn't happen through necessity via episode cuts and what didn't happen bc nobody thought it was necessary. It's so hard trying to pick apart anything post rotd without knowing this.

[pbandjesse]

We made an offer on the house. I'm a little shocked how quickly this is all happening. But like. If this works out we're going to be in a new place by Christmas?? What the heck.

I am not allowed to be to excited. Like I am day dreaming. I have been day dreaming about it all day. Where we would put things. How well pack. Just all of that. But I'm not holding it in my chest yet. I'm just like. Wow. This is wild.

While that was the biggest focus of the day, it was not the only focus.

I had a little trouble falling asleep last night. Because I had realized that this house had no dishwasher. It has no dishwasher, or washing machine or dryer. So I decided that I needed to start a list of what we will probably need for the house and what that would cost. But I should not do that at midnight.

I did fall asleep. And woke up at 730. And James was there and that was excellent. They made me a little breakfast. And I got washed and dressed. They would head down first but I would come soon after them. I got an extra kiss and they told me how pretty I was again. Sent me off with a smile.

It was really chilly again today. Everything was frosty. But the car was warm and then the office was too.

I spent the first hour or so working on my research about what we would need for the house and why it would cost. Washer, dryer, dishwasher, couch, sleeper sofa, book cases, ECT ECT. Just anything I thought would make the space feel full and finished. And so then I started working through what we should offer on the house.

Basically my thought was that we should offer based on what we'll need to spend. So since my list ended up being a little less then $10k, we should offer $10k less then the listing price. I figured out what the monthly cost will be. What the full lifetime amount of the loan would be. And sent it off to James.

I would get out of the office after that. Even though it was cold. I went and got the gator and drove to the art building to get the trash from there. And stopped to talk to Joe about painting the lodge next week. And then I was off to the lodge itself.

It was stupid cold and I should have had my gloves on. My lips are still really chapped. But I tried my best to just get back inside quickly.

I got to the lodge though and would warm up in the basement (called the salt mines).

My plan was to go through the giant pile of frames. To figure out what we would utilize. But really mostly for now to just organize it because it is such an ugly pile.

And it was fun to go through everything. I made a few piles. Nature, salvation army and camp ephemera, the American west, and two Native American piles. One of acceptable pieces and one of questionable ones.

There was a lot of broken glass but thankfully I didn't cut myself. Did have to sweep some up but that was fine.

As I finished making the piles and sorting I texted Heather to come see what I found. And she would come over pretty quickly. I found some really neat stuff. Including some memorial plaques. One being for Chris's brother. We're going to hang it up in the nature center.

Joe would join us when we went to sit in one of the bedrooms down there. We were discussing moving furniture and painting and such for next wedding season. And Joe was coming to ask if we had been the ones to turn the heat on. But we had not. Still unsure who did that but it wasn't us.

Joe didn't want me to throw any of the framed pieces away. Which I get because Lou spent money on framing some of it. But also. It's just sitting in the basement and has been there for at least 4 years. But for sure longer. I promised not to throw anything out yet and would just sort it for now.

Sarah would join me after everyone else left. And helped me move things onto a different shelf and she swept and shook out the carpets. Which were so wildly dusty it was making literal piles of dust on the ground. Gross gross gross.

I decided to move some furniture around in the bedrooms to use the space better and make them feel more open. I don't know if they will change it again but I think it flows a lot better now.

We would load up the gator with a few things we found that we thought would be helpful. Like a paper towel holder and some trash cans. And an old sewing machine Joe showed me I said I would try to make work. And we were off.

After driving to the office we unloaded stuff and checked in with Heather and Alexi about what we did. But then back out into the world. Sarah went to search for a missing sign. And I would drive up to arts to drop off a few things. I did not sort my fibers boxes. I will do that on Tuesday.

Lunch was next. I did not microwave metal by accident this time. Thank you James for a plastic top container. I enjoyed my hotdog and watched some videos. And then worked on some house stuff and talked to James through a Google doc. It was nice.

I would spend the rest of the afternoon working on lesson plans and on figuring out what standards we could match against. Which is surprisingly difficult. It was easier for history, doing it with science is weirdly tough. Because evening seems so specific?? I'm trying but I wasn't having an amazing time.

So after I got bored with that I worked on my natural dye chart and I'm very happy with that. It was fun going through that and sharing it with Heather. I was having a good time.

James let me know that the realtor wanted to talk about an offer at 530. So that was exciting. I wrote out my idea for negotiation. This was before I understood he was our realtor and not the person selling it's. He would do the negotiations. But thankfully once we did get on the phone we were thinking basically the same thing.

Me and Sarah went to try to spray paint some tables but it did not go well so we gave up and came back to the office. I found a little pumpkin in the road. It was warmer out and honestly beautiful.

And it was time to go! I let James know I was going to make a pit stop. I decided I needed to drive through the neighborhood of the house.

We had seen it as the sun was setting on Halloween. So seeing it during the day, even if it was 430 was good.

My take away are that 2 blocks away is a very nice street. And the street the house is on is changing. Across the street two houses have active construction. The closest coffee shop is a 12 minute walk but a 2 minute drive. There is much trash in the alleys but there are a lot of people walking around. And I think I would be happy there.

So I went home. With a good plan. But I was immediately derailed.

As soon as I got home the whole building smelled like gas. Like cooking gas. And it was worse at our apartment. Because the oven was left on all day!! Terrifying. I turned that off and opened all the windows and put in fans and had to sit out on the fire escape with sweetp because it smelled so strongly. I was pretty upset.

James would get home and felt horrible for forgetting the oven. Both for danger and wastefulness reasons. Everyone was okay. No one was hurt. But it was scary.

We couldn't focus on that because it was time to talk to the realtor.

James put it on speaker and I tried to take control, much like when we got the car. I felt good about the offer the realtor suggested, with the caveat of a home inspection and an appraisal. I took notes throughout the call. And like. It's crazy. We put an offer on a house!!!

I called my parents and we talked through everything. Dad is worried about the neighborhood, because I'm not a "gangster like Jen was." But I need them to trust me. The neighborhood is a little rough. But I didn't feel unsafe. I like Patterson and it's one street over the invisible neighborhood line. I'm excited. I want them to be excited too.

James made us dinner after I got off the phone. I enjoyed my fake fish fillets. And after dinner I would go work in my studio and made a second giraffe. Which went a lot better then the first so that was nice. James came and helped.me stuff the legs and it was nice to spend a little time together.

I would take a bath. And chill with sweetp. And now we are in bed. James is reading and I am waiting to a video. But I am very much ready for bed.

I have the market tomorrow. And then I hope to have a nice afternoon nap and work on some stuff in the studio. I told Heather I would try to make some horses. So that will be fun to work on after I finished my last two giraffes. I hope to get a lot of sewing done this month to prepare for my holiday markers.

I am a little all over the place thinking about moving. But I'm so excited that we are making these steps. Like even if this house doesn't work out, I'm just so jazzed. Though I am worried about telling Mr Will and Tina. I love them as our rental team. I hope they are just like. Overly excited for us.

I hope you all sleep well tonight. I hope you stay warm and your lips aren't chapped. Goodnight everyone!!

[coffeedrgn87]

Blurbs On Writing (2022 Edition)

I had this idea for a little thought compilation about my writing a while back, but I held back, unsure whether I wanted to write it all down. If I am honest, the thought of sharing something personal scared me, and still does. Today, I decided that I do want to look back on my writing exploits over the past year and add my observations. These will be at random, and I'll note them down as they come into my head. You can find the list after the break.

I enjoy writing for someone (I like the challenge), and teasing the recipient with excerpts or talking about their idea with them makes me so happy. There's something special about sharing a piece of my writing with someone or dedicating it to a particular person. Unfortunately, I don't get to do this nearly enough, and my anxiety makes it difficult to reach out to people. Occasionally, I'll jump over my shadow and ask, but it takes a lot of effort, and most of the time, I do not have the energy.

I guess not many people like reading unfinished or WIP multi-chapter things, and I understand why it doesn't work for some folx, but I've discovered that I love writing this way. It's hard for me to withdraw into a corner, quietly work on something long, and only share it once it's completely done. I don't know how other writers feel about creating their work and/or sharing it as they go, but my personal perception is that even if an author posts a chapter a week or every other day, the work is usually already finished. I may be entirely mistaken, so don't consider this opinion etched in stone. For me, writing a chapter and sharing it is thrilling. The anticipation of being able to share an update, the readers' excitement, and potential interaction via comments/messages. I thrive on that. It often lets me incorporate ideas, tweak future chapters slightly, or sometimes change course entirely.

I absolutely adore one-word prompts. There's something magical about building a short story around a prompt. Sometimes the story is centred around the prompt; other times, it's just a support, an aid. Whichever it is, it's always exciting. I particularly enjoy noun prompts, though I don't limit myself in that regard. The way these tiny prompts spark an idea is magical, but it's also frustrating when you stare at a prompt and draw a complete blank. Especially when that uninspiring prompt is part of a challenge.

Describing scenes, particularly outdoor scenes such as a forest, a meadow, a cave, or a beach (to name but a few), is such fun. I like painting a pretty picture, going into detail about what's happening, what can be seen, how things smell, what they look like... It's not been a big focus for me before, but in 2022 I really made it my priority, and I feel it's elevated my writing. I've had a few lovely comments from readers who enjoyed it, so I guess I'm on the right track.

Smells and tastes are a delight to describe, and I first dipped my toes into making that a priority when I took part in a fest in 2020, but it took time for me to turn it into a habit. My Google search has since learnt that I like to research these things. Thrilling. Thank you, Google, my trusted research partner.

If I can make it happen, I like it when my characters spent time in the kitchen. Growing up, a lot of life happened in our kitchen (mainly because my dad was a kitchen person, but it's also my inner cat, associating the kitchen with warmth, chatter, and coffee, which awakens the dragon in me), and that shows in my writing. I think I did it unconsciously until I, at one point, added the tag "life happens in the kitchen" to one of my fics on AO3, and now writing scenes in the kitchen has become a staple of mine.

I never thought I might enjoy writing sprints with other people, but for a brief period, I got to try this and found it delightful. It tickled my competitive side. Perhaps I'll dip my toes into that again at some point...we'll see.

I've gotten much better at showing rather than telling how a character feels, and it's become such a joy to add in all those little descriptors that my readers can hopefully identify with when they read my works.

Eyes seem to be something I focus a lot on when describing a person. Eyes are stunning, and I truly enjoy describing them, especially the colour and how it makes the other person feel. Knowing that one of my characters is smiling or laughing or just genuinely happy makes me happy, and I always quietly hope that the same applies to my readers.

I'm no longer all that fussed about writing super-detailed sex scenes. I go there, but in recent months I've found that stripping away some of the details of the actual "this goes there in this way" and replacing it with feelings or a character's reaction gives me much more joy. Perhaps it's loosely related to a recent discovery I made about myself, or perhaps it's just my writing evolving, but I find this interesting. We'll see where this goes. One thing that I'm very sure about, though, is that my love for smut will always burn brightly.

Pets or animals in general. I love including a pet or an animal as a character, especially when I can give them an attitude, a quirk, or something that makes the pet or animal a delight to read. I've invented a few furry/feathery/scaly companions over the past year, and it's something I want to focus on even more. I'd be happy to have 50K of one character + a menagerie of animals, and while I don't know how my readers would feel about that, a writer can dream, can they not?

I don't especially feel like I'm part of my favourite fandoms. This might be a sad revelation, but it's true. While I thrive on making new connections and responding to messages/comments (after all, I am a chatterbug), I sadly am not the kind of person to reach out to people. It takes me forever to decide to take the plunge, and my anxiety always wreaks havoc on every attempt. I no longer feel confident enough to make the first move. I overthink, worry, and convince myself that there isn't a space for me. On a few occasions, it's made me want to stop writing, but I have since learnt not to give in to that impulse. My writing is all mine. It's something I would never give up, not for anyone. Still, not having that sense of belonging makes it hard to connect. I tried for a while, but I just don't have that much strength (for personal reasons, I won't elaborate any further).

Lastly, (and to end this on a positive note) I have learnt not to compare myself to other writers, whether they've been published or whether they're fanfic writers whose works I gobble up like coffee. Occasionally, the feeling still creeps in, but for the most part, I manage to ignore it. To continue to grow as a writer, I need to be able to appreciate without feeling like reading a gorgeous piece of writing makes me want to give up on my own writing. Instead, I allow other works to push me towards doing better.

[idv-ask-the-showman]

{Blossoming Reunion}

Just finished writing the small story of Carina’s arrival to the manor. Tbh I kinda give up near the end nor did I wanted to make it so detailed so it is kinda rushed but I hope you guys still enjoy it!!

Flynn stood patiently in front of the entrance to the manor, awaiting the arrival of the new survivor, Carina. She was someone he had known and grown up with in the circus, and their bond was so strong that she felt like a sister to him. However, he couldn't help but feel conflicted about the situation.

"Why am I the one who has to guide her?" Flynn wondered. He didn't dislike the idea, but he was unsure of how he should react when he seeing her again. After all, he had disappeared without a trace for nearly a year, leaving only a note behind. He knew that everyone who cared about him, including Carina, must have been worried sick and thinking the worst had happened to him.

He let out a sigh and rehearsed in his mind what he would say to her, preparing himself for the truth. He hoped she wouldn't be too upset with him. And then there was the matter of explaining Phineas to her. He had wanted Phineas to join him in greeting Carina, but Phineas' anxiety got the best of him, causing him to retreat to his room. Flynn had left Poppy to help Phineas to calm down while he was away.

His thoughts were interrupted as the door suddenly swung open. As he laid eyes on Carina, he was taken aback, and it seemed she felt the same. They both stood frozen, exchanging a look of disbelief and more of a confusion on Carina’s side. Carina couldn't believe that the boy before her was Flynn, who had been missing for a whole year. Before she could gather her thoughts, Flynn flashed a wide smile and rushed towards her, embracing her in a big hug. The force of the hug caused them both to tumble to the ground, but Flynn's joy was evident in his voice as he expressed how much he had missed her.

"Carina! OH MY GOG!!! I can't believe I finally get to see you again! It's been so long,if only you knew how much I have missed you!” Flynn exclaimed, still holding onto her tightly while swinging his legs.

Carina's mind was filled with a whirlwind of questions, but for now, all she could do was let out a relieved cry and shed tears of happiness at the sight of Flynn, alive and safe. She held onto him tightly, unwilling to let go, and managed to say through her tears, "WHAAA!!! FLYNN, IS THAT REALLY YOU? I-I THOUGHT YOU WERE K-KIDNAPPED OR WORST! *sniff* I THOUGHT I’D NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN! WHAAA!!!”

It took some time for Carina to calm down and release her grip on Flynn, allowing him to finally breath. He explained his reasons for leaving and coming to the manor, leaving out any mention of his dark deeds or Phineas for now, as he knew it would be overwhelming for her. So he thought it is best to take things slowly, allowing her to adjust to the situation first. Although, Carina scolded Flynn for his actions, but eventually, they began exploring the manor together and discussing the "game" that she would be playing form now on giving she now join the manor and Flynn also introduced her to various individuals in the manor, offering guidance on who to befriend and who to avoid. Over the course of their conversation, their faces were painted with genuine happiness.

{meanwhile}

“Hehe… her smile is as bright as ever!”

Phineas was observing Flynn and Carina's interaction from his own room, using his ability to watch over them through the unseen eyes that’s following them. Seeing Carina brought about a mix of emotions for him, but he was uncertain about how to approach her, now as a ghost and especially as a hunter. He knew he shouldn't worry too much, but it was easier said than done… He held Poppy close, finding comfort in their plushy form and comforting words, and tried to reassure himself that everything would turn out fine. Deep down, he truly hoped it would.

[wanderlandgracie]

ROME

To end off our study abroad trip to Europe, we went to Rome, Italy, famous for such things as pizza, and not putting ice in drinks, and murdering prisoners for the widespread entertainment of the country. It's got fun for the whole family. Seriously though, Rome is a beautiful, elegant, history-packed city with so much to see and do, so here are my highlights.

The first thing we did in Rome was go see the the Vatican, or more formally known as Vatican City. Vatican City has been the center and seat of the Roman Catholic Church since 1929, which, you'll note, is fairly recent. The city is its own nation-state, giving the Pope the power over it without being hindered by the overall government of Italy. We initially went into the museum part of the city, and got to see cool works such as the Sistine Chapel, and The School of Athens painting, both of which were absolutely beautiful, only one of which we were allowed to take pictures of. The Vatican City is a truly iconic location in Rome simply because of its importance to the catholic faith. As a protestant Christian, I do not fully understand the importance of the Pope and the cardinals and such, but I do understand that the artwork and artifacts inside the walls of the Vatican City are beautiful, and thus is their prime value.

The place I was most excited about going in Rome was the Colosseum, a wide ovalesque amphitheater that was originally built in 72 AD by the Roman Emperor Vespasian to revitalize Rome after a tumultuous year of four emperors. While it was in its prime, it saw staggering amounts of gladiator fights, animal hunts, and mock naval battles, all for public entertainment. Despite this bloody and questionable history, the Colosseum is still a revolutionary structure for its time, and it is an iconic tourist destination. While reflecting on this I realized that we treat it like its a theme park. We go and take pictures and have fun, but a mere 2 thousand years ago so many unwilling people were thrown into the arena and they didn't have the chance to come out alive. This amphitheater has lost its significance, and is now nothing more than a tourist trap. Most of the public likely don't think to remember what happened there, myself included. But it is so important to remember the significance it had to those that lost their lives there, filled with terror and pain.

After walking around in Rome for a while, it became wildly clear to me where I was. Not just because of the big monuments and ancient ruins and such, but rather because of the small symbols of the Roman culture. For example, there was a lot of SPQR things. Those four letters were printed on just about every sewer grate, statue, door, you name it. Almost everywhere you looked, the acronym for "Senatus PopulousQue Romanus," or "The Senate and People of Rome," a saying that was used in the original empire, which is why we see it so often today. Another example of the Roman Culture being all in your face is the constant Romulus and Remus statues. They were practically everywhere. The statues are always of infant Romulus and Remus suckling the she-wolf, Lupa (which yes, literally is the feminine of wolf), who raised them. See, Romulus and Remus were the brothers that founded Rome. Well, brother that founded Rome. See they we going to found a city, and it is unclear about what exactly they disagreed about, whether it was the hill to found the city on or what to call it, but either way, Romulus killed his brother and founded Rome. This makes it wildly relevant to modern day Rome. I am unsure as to whether the brothers were actually real, or if they are pseudo historical figures based off of a real king and his brother that he killed. Either way, the brothers are important to Roman culture because it gives them a sense of identity in their founding. They have a myth about their home, that is solidarity if ever I've seen it.

[xiadz]

When I was in highschool, art class was my favorite with computer class being a close second. In 9th grade I was so excited to be able to spend an entire hour dedicated only to art. My teacher didn't like me, I don't really know why cause I wasn't an asshole kid and was mostly just quiet. I suspect it was because I wore death metal band shirts and she was heavily christian, but I don't know. Every single project I did and turned in, it was an instant fail. I mean every one, not even a D mark, everything was a failing grade. I began to think maybe I just fucking suck at this but still, it was the only class all throughout highschool where I didn't miss a single assignment. The kid that sat next to me that year thought it was bullshit and even he asked her about it and she said I just simply didn't meet the required expectations. That solidified it, I'm just terrible at this. Until one day, the same dude - suggested we switched projects for the turnin and see what happens. I thought it was dumb and it would just ruin his grade but I agreed, and the exact same thing happened. Teacher marked "my" project with an F and marked "his" with an A. I couldn't believe it, I still don't believe it. That someone in a position of power like that would just fuck with a kid for zero reason other than disliking them. I wish I could tell you that I was motivated to continue art out of spite, but something about it really ruined every aspect of it for me. Despite our little experiment of swapping projects, that year ruined every perception I had of my capabilities. I stopped drawing completely, I barely painted, and anything I created I kept to myself. The idea that I would ever show anyone else things I was working on was insane, so I kept it to myself for the next 15 years. Every great once in a while I'll maybe post what I consider a shitpost equivalent of something I made, but for the most part everything else is destined to live covered in dust away from the world. & Having any piece that is associated with me and not just some random weirdo on the internet? Not happening ever. I'm trying to change that about myself, in some sort of symbolic sacrifice I took this final project we made in that very same class, which mine was a large ceramic pumpkin, and about a year ago I walked outside and just fucking smashed it against the ground. I saved it all these years sitting in my closet but I fucking resented it. I hated associating with it, I hated that teacher for making me feel that way. I hated even more that I thought about her while she probably has no recollection of who I even am. I'm still kind of unsure about publicly showing off things I've made that can be associated with me. But for the last 2 years I've been creating, and I've been enjoying it. I've been showing some friends my poster designs, I've sent a few discord strangers my works in progress, I even entered a competition a while back. I didn't win, but it isn't the point. I'm just kind of mad at myself for spending all those years doing almost nothing at all, but I'm over it. I bought a new notebook a few months ago and it almost never leaves my side. A step forward is a step forward, no matter what cunts try to block your path.