#I found a flowery field later

[loki-hargreeves]

This little guy followed me to the bus this morning and I got some weird looks but what was I supposed to do, throw it away??

Anyway I found a safe place eventually

[asunflowerana]

lotus love

summary: who knew a festival miles away from home would help Miya confess his feelings.

with: Osamu Miya

warnings: friends to lovers, oblivious reader, tatoos, dear osamu is so patient i can't 😅 fluff fluff fluff

Another road sign appears in your field of vision, a red ‘60’ stamped on the painted wood making Osamu slow down while driving, a gentle wind now coming through the open window and running your skin. It’s been almost three hours since you guys started the road trip to Kanagawa, and even though you enjoy watching the beautiful landscape sideways, your stomach is making a riot inside for food.

Being the copilot, you check out your current location on your phone’s map, letting out a relieved sigh as you notice a small festival going on a few miles away.

This is it.

You hear him chuckling, having no idea that he actually heard that sigh along with your now pleased expression. “Did ya find our next stop?”

“Lotus Festival, five kilometers away.” You answer him, scrolling through the event’s pictures. “Oooh, I found a yakitori stall there! Okay, we need to stop in this place.” Just imagining the seasoned grilled chicken skewered in a kushi makes your mouth drool faster than the car’s wheels.

“You got it.” Osamu smiles, also liking the idea of filling his tummy to the brim with food. “But, why Lotus?”

You search for the meaning on the web. “It says that this festival happens in the blooming season, which represents the 'rejuvenation of love’, in a few cultures. It’s most visited for old couples to rekindle their relationship, and singles searching for love. It’s really sweet…” You add, looking at some old married folks hugging each other. “But it’s kinda weird? Like, imagine someone traveling there just to find love? What if they find nothing and return home with a broken heart and less than twenty bucks?” You ponder out loud.

“Yeah, that sucks,” He mumbles, suddenly getting more interested in this festival. He turns to look at you, still paying attention to the empty road. “But it’s not the end of the world. The love of your life might be right beside ya, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” You’re too worried about the hypothetical heartbroken person to notice Osamu’s eyes lingering on you a tad longer before his shoulders slumped in defeat and his brown eyes return ahead.

Ten minutes later, and the “Welcome to Lotus Festival ” banner appears, its spring colors matching the flowery environment. It’s so beautiful, the greenish square full of lotus with different colors, bringing such a delicious aroma that it attracted several little birds on the way, drinking their nectar like they’re in a feast.

Osamu parks his blue jeep alongside a truck, and together you both walk to the festival, leaving your bags behind and carrying only the essentials inside your purse — wallet, phones, some painkillers, and your small polaroid camera.

There’re a lot of stalls selling bouquets, natural lotions, hair accessories and floral jewelry, clothes, as well as food and beverage stalls. In the middle of the square, a white bandstand decorated with fairy lights and leaves, with mistletoe hanging in the center.

There’s so much to see, that you might be staying there for more than an hour's break.

But first things first, you carry the grey-haired man by hand through the festival, ignoring his confused questions until you finally found your target.

The smell of yakitori invades your nostrils and takes all of your self-control to not steal a bit from a kid who just got their steaming portion. You both look at each other for a second, hungry gaze in your eyes before you two run to the booth, money in hands and mouth begging for food.

“Four yakitoris for the couple.” The seller says evenly, handing you the warm skewers. Osamu forgets his food desire and gazes surprised at you, but you’re already devouring your grilled chicken like a starved lion.

“…Thanks.” Hesitant, he doesn’t correct the seller, handing him the money and moving away in your direction.

Did you really not hear what that guy said?

“Mmmmm… this is heaven.” You hum in delight, savoring the good taste as you finish your first skewer in record time. You look at him more pleased than before. “Thanks for the treat, ‘Samu. Choose whatever you want next, I’m buying.”

He nods in agreement and decides to forget the matter, taking a bite of his yakitori.

He doesn’t stop until it’s all gone.

You guys keep strolling, you buy some sweets for him while he treats you with a warm drink for the chilling weather, walking on the grass until a different booth catches your eye. On the sign, it shows that it’s a henna tattoo booth, choose one of the holiday models and you get a discount.

You get excited, having a new tattoo sounds super fun and it adds to the memories of this trip. And by the way Osamu is grinning down at you, he agrees with the idea as well.

Approaching the booth, you both look through the catalog, each model more beautiful than the other, making you undecided about the best.

“We could do matching tattoos.” Osamu proposes, pointing at the matching models on the second catalog page.

You nod, looking through the sketches. “They’re all so beautiful… I’ll let you decide.” You don’t usually trust him with those stylish things, but if you were to choose, you’d stay 30 minutes just gazing at them.

He hums for a moment, before pointing out at a beautiful Lotus sketch. “How about this one?”

“Rejuvenation of love. It’s a great choice, lots of couples order this one.” The woman owner of the booth says, a small smirk plastered on her face; Your brows raise, and Osamu is nervous, expecting a possible rejection, but you surprise him with your reaction. 

“That’s so genius ‘Samu! That way, we won’t even forget about this festival!”

Both of them deadpan.

“Good luck buddy.” The artist mumbles close to him, patting his shoulder before guiding you both to your seats. Another missed shot.

As it was on the sign, about thirty minutes passed before the tattoos were finally done, a lotus flower now decorating the inside of your forearms. The woman even did a thin stalk in both, which when the two forearms joined, would connect the flowers into a single branch.

This is so meaningful, but Osamu isn’t sure if it has the same meaning for you as it has for him. He thought his feelings would be clear as the sun's rays by now, but you’re still oblivious to them, he doesn’t know what to do anymore. The hints aren’t landing, and the wonder of whether you like him back or not is eating his brain alive, for a long time.

He can keep this trip friendly as planned, visiting Kanagawa for the day before returning to Shibuya as best friends. But there’s a growing chance that someone else might get the shot that he wants so badly with you, and if he doesn’t take this moment now, he might not have another one.

So after paying for the tattoos, he leads you to the white bandstand, wanting to “take some pictures” there. He waits for the right moment when no one is there, and takes you by the hand to the middle.

He doesn’t let go of you.

“Is everything okay?” You notice the way he’s nibbling his lower lip with his canine, something he usually does to calm down. He takes a deep breath, gazing at your eyes with determination.

“I like you.”

Osamu never liked to stall, so it’s best to just rip off the bandage. He keeps a firm grip on your hand as your brows finally raise in realization. “I like you. I don’t know when it started, and I don’t really care, I just know that it will never stop. I can’t stop wanting you. And I don’t know if I didn’t hit it right, or your pretty head is too oblivious to notice — Okay, sorry but you know it’s probably the second.” He chuckles, letting out the adrenaline from his pounding heart. “…I’m in love with you, _____.”

He recites as if they are the most important words to him, moving closer to you as he stares with passion at your shining, surprised orbs. He takes your face in his free hand, and his heart skips as you accept the caress, interlacing his fingers with yours while still speechless.

He doesn’t need an answer to see that you feel the same.

He looks above to the ceiling for a moment, your eyes following and noticing that you both are right under the mistletoe. He grins down at you, one of his cheeky smiles that makes your heart throb in adoration.

“Not that I need one of those to kiss you, but since this is our first—” He nuzzles his nose with yours, his skin gently grazing and soothing you. He whispers close, not taking his eyes off yours.

“Can I kiss you?”

Enchanted by his spell, you give him a small nod, granting him the freedom to lock his sultry lips with yours, making you forget everything else and focus only on the magical feeling of his passionate kiss, legs weakening and body resting inside his warm embrace.

You can’t hear some people applauding you from afar, nor feel the present flower scent around the place. But the lingering thought of your tattoos brushing against each other doesn’t leave your head anymore.

Rejuvenation of love. Lotus Festival is true to its word.

a/n: i confess, i love when boys are the one pining around.

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[ilikebookssomuch]

Random KotLC fic WIP because why not

let me know if I should continue with this crackpot idea :D

Biana screams, her face twisting in pain as she reaches a hand out of the flames, grasping for my hand. I grab onto her and pull, sparks flying in my hair and catching my cape on fire. I shriek as the flames eat at my back, but I keep pulling. After a moment, the smoke chokes me and I let go of Biana’s hand. 

She screams, a long, wordless shriek of agony. Blisters erupt along her bare arm and the side of her neck. I nearly vomit, but there is too much smoke and ash in my throat. I blink rapidly, and when I open my eyes again I have lost sight of Biana. 

Fitz is nearby, attempting to rescue Dex from the boulder he’s caught under. His pant leg is on fire. Dex’s face is bloody and there is a gash on his shoulder, the sleeve ripped. Dex’s leg is caught under the boulder and the fire is creeping closer.

Fitz! I transmit.

He looks up, snapping his head around to meet my eyes.

Use telekinesis!! Fitz nods and turns back to Dex. My bare feet pound on the gry grass beneath me splinters embedding themselves in my toes as I run.

Tam is battling with a figure in a black cloak. Linh is trapped under a force field, and I can see her trying to draw water outside of the glowing dome. Five ogres surround Sandor and Grizel so I turn towards them, flinging goblin-throwing stars from my cape pockets. I knock down two of the ogres, and now I can see Sandor and Grizel back to back with their swords raised. They seem like they can handle it, so I keep running. The fire is at my back now, red-hot and towering over me. 

Nearby, Wylie is battling Gethen, but he seems to be losing. I pull Hope from her sheath and charge into the battle. Wylie is flashing a beam of bright purple light into Gethen’s eyes, so I take advantage of the momentary distraction and stab Gethen’s arm. I wince a little when I see the blood, but I am used to violence by now. 

It’s always there, hiding in the shadows. We’ve been at war with the Neverseen for almost two years, and this is one of our most deadly skirmishes. Fintan sparked the Everblaze while we were all assembled in the Black Swan’s newest hideout. So much for that. 

The hideout is surely burned to the ground by now, and Fintan seems to have escaped. Gethen, Vespera, Trix, Umber, Brnt, Lady Gisella, and dozens of other black-cloaked figures are fighting against the collective and a few other elves I haven’t met yet, about twenty gnomes, fifteen goblins, four trolls, and thirty dwarves are all here fighting with my friends and me. I haven’t seen Mr. Forkle yet, so I decide to look for him. 

I close my eyes, the sounds of screams and shouts and metal against metal clanging together and the fire popping and sparking in the distance. I tune all of that out, concentrating on the sounds of thoughts instead. 

This is it. That’s Tam. I keep searching. 

Where is Dex?! Juline’s panicked thoughts are so clear. Sharp and piercing my brain.

GRIZEL!! Sandor is distraught, the image of Grizle with a deep gash in her side blaring into my mind. I hold back tears, but I can’t give up. Mr. Forkle is so important, he can’t be dead. 

What about Keefe? I shove the thought back. I don’t have time to think about his betrayal right now. Finally, I catch a whisper: I wish my brother was here.

Mr. Forkle had a twin brother, but he died in the collapse of Lumenaria a few years ago. Months later, Keefe disappeared; and the only sign of him was the note I found next to Iggy’s cage. The memory of That Day resurfaces and I am thrown into the past.

* * *

I have just gotten home from a particularly awkward meeting with the Black Swan. I burned down the Neverseen’s storehouse, but basically no one was pleased with that. I shove my frustrations aside and grab a ripplefluff before heading upstairs.

When I enter my room, I tense. There are footprints on my flowery rug, and Iggy is a different color. He has stripes of teal and blue and purple and pink now, and –I rush closer to his cage– there is a note held under the corner of the cage. I read it, my worry increasing with every word. 

* * *

To the Mysterious Miss F,

Ugh, I’m already regretting saying this. But this is serious.

 I know that a lot has been happening lately, with your abilities, and my crazy mother. And I’m sorry. But I figured out a way to control myself. I hope you won’t hate me for it. 

This is for the best. 

—Keefe.

P.S. I love you, Sophie. Always have. Always will.

Goodbye.

Tears start to blur my eyes, but I still catch the words “I love you.” 

Does this mean what I think it means? Is Keefe…. I can’t think about this. He’s just getting used to his ability. He’ll come back. 

Right?

[scottsmajorshipbracket]

I feel u on the positive galaxy duo stuff, scott ship acc admin

Thats why imma try and give u my Galaxy duo interpretation across seasons, with a happy ending! :]

in last life they made food and would eat together. Pearl would sing silly little improvised songs per usual, Scott was more of a gentle humming kinda guy. The humming could put Pearl to sleep very easily, good at taming dogs, I suppose. + Last Life took place during summer. Warm happy summer, bright sunshine coming in through the windows, swimming by the river, tending to crops together, feeding the birds. Fun comfy summer together with who you love most. (this will be important later on.. /silly)

during double life soulmates shared some physical traits, due to mind fuckery done by the watchers tho, they didn't notice these changes on anyone til they found their own soulmate. Scott and Pearl got their hair ends the color of the other. Pearl tried so hard to cut it off, chopping her hair with an axe, but the teal ends only grew upwards on her new ends. In the end she resorted to "dying" it, with stuff like berries, flowers and animal blood... it sorta did the work and made her happy, but ppl also thought he smelled TERRIBLE and it was another reason to not approach him. + Double Life took place in winter, cold cold winter killing crops and freezing stray animals to death, snow storms forming like a dispute between parties, who once loved one another, now falling appart. The love is still there tho, it is and it always will be. To hate with such passion, you have to love first.

in limited life, while they *said* they were okay with one another and acted friendly while in a group environment, they still had some unresolved issues to cope with. Pearl probably looked down at the coral isles, from the frog tower. Yeah their teammates, neighbors and your mother could tell they were still not normal about eachother, but hey petty pranks and odd looks are better than torturing eachother! They still miss being together, but for both their sakes they gotta wait it out more. I can still recall our last summer, I still see it all. + Limited Life took place in autumn (different year). Autumn, where leaves start dying off, falling off trees. All that dead waste... it leaves the trees, it prepares for change. For once spring comes... they'll grow stronger once again :)

in secret life they finally found peace, forgave eachother mutually, better than they could have ever before. My sister, a flower expert (/hj), assigned them daisies, for they represent new beginnings. They finally get to be happy together, and they can be in different alliances! They have a good time when they do see eachother, no petty pranks for no reason. Scott even went out of his way to remind Pearl she didnt say "I love you" to him, to which Pearl immediately goes to apologize and say "I love you Scooott♡ does it still count?", and I swear I can HEAR him smirk as he goes ".. I'll take it..". People focus a lot on the finale I think. Healing is a process, it has ups and downs, of course Pearl is still hurt over double life, but she doesnt hate Scott. It wasnt just Gem who offered Pearl to join them, Scott very much wanted him with them aswell, and I refuse to think it was just out of "fear". He didn't wanna have to be up against Pearl again, theyd allied again, finally, fixed their issues. Just to be forced to fight again. I think they found peace in the end tho, while the Scar stays alive the other dead people stay around as ghosts, having to wait til the watchers get bored and make another season. I think they made up again after the finale. + afterall, Secret Life took place on spring. New life, a colorful flowery view, beautiful fields. All to share with a new bond, a new beginning. The new spring of an old connection. Beautiful and sweet. Similar to the summer they met.

Here's where it gets gay as hell tho so uhh yall can stop reading here if u dont like my mlm majormoon vision

.

.

in real life... I have NO platonic explanation for this, im so sorry but theyre literally a married couple. They ADOPTED A KID!! (Cleo, jokingly)("there you go little Cleo" "thanks mum!") I actually think they probably got engaged after the secret life finale, as ghosts, they spent a LONG time there afterall. Winners Void marriage!! Martyn officiated the wedding, Scar was Pearl's best man (theyre siblings to me but thats unrelated), Grian was their witness, I mean he had no option BUT to wintess this so.. also, during that kiss they shared, there was a spark of light in the void, in that deep darkness, the moon and his stars iluminated all around them. Back to the actual season, they can now joke around the old times no problem, they *can* have other alliances, but theyre back to good old. Like Scott said in secret life, "its destiny". Theyre faithed, way past double life, that was just a physical representation of soulmate bonds, but the connections are still real after, and were real before. I see these two bicker during real life and see a married couple, not one that hates eachother, but they tease eachother and roll their eyes at eachothers stupidity at times. They love eachother so much even with their quirks. + Real Life i'd say takes place in summer once again. Years have passed, and they passed them together. They already had something going on in last life but denied it, they were young and unsure. They've matured and are more sure of who they are and what they want. They have fun, once again, like last time.. walks along the seine, laughing in the rain, our last summer, memories that remain♡

Thats it thank you for listening to my TED talk

:O

[wingsofhcpe]

was taking some notes down on my copy of T3M last night, and was reminded that book!Aramis canonically writes poetry, so now I will be thinking of bbc!Aramis doing the same.

Some headcanons about it:

He started writing poems for Isabel when they were sappy horny teens in love. He'd write the sappiest, most flowery and romantic verses to her and recite them to her while they lay in his father's sprawling gardens in a field of flowers.

He stopped for a few years, after Isabel was taken away (as he thought) and he ran away from home, because it hurt too much to try. He started again a few months after meeting Porthos.

He wrote short verses for Porthos but never really showed them to him. Porthos found out accidentally and thought it was about one of Aramis' mistresses, which Aramis didn't correct because he was embarrassed.

He doesn't actually write poetry for his mistresses. Not even for Adele. He may quote poetry to them (Shakespeare for example) but he only writes his own about the people closest to his heart (Porthos and Athos, and later Anne). He's wrote a platonic one for Constance too! She keeps it tucked inside her favourite book.

He's super shy about reciting any of them out loud, or even showing them to the individual they're meant for (except Constance, because with her it wasn't romantic, so he felt way more comfortable).

He has an entire notebook filled with the most romantic, heart-aching, pining poems about Anne. He shows her only after he becomes First Minister, because he really thought those where the things he'd never be allowed to tell her.

Waxes poetic when he's drunk, and out of the four Inseparables, he has the lowest alcohol tolerance (yes, even lower than little d'Artagnan!), so it's... a spectacle.

[axcel-lucci]

Ah

Since you like Law-

Choose....

Cuddle for a Day in a Field of Flowers with

Beepo

Or

Law

Lol, sorry if this is so random...... Just gotta know 🤭🤭

A/n: HI!! I don't check my inbox often and I saw this just a few weeks ago, couldn't think of anything cause my brain is fried thanks to my school. But I hope it's alright. I'm just happy to have my first ask! :)

Cuddle day with law and/or Bepo

Also, established relationship between (y/n) and law (they're engaged in this one) also kind of short cause it's literally 2 in the morning here XD

....

(Y/n) sang softly as she made flower crowns in a field of flowers she found at the island.

"(Y/n)-chan...!" Bepo's distant voice snapped her out of her trance as she looked back at where she thinks the voice came from, "(y/n)-! Oh! Hey (y/n)!"

Bepo excitedly said and carefully rushed over to her before sitting down next to her, "what's up?" She spoke with utter softness and gentleness

"Captain's looking for you." Bepo said happily

"Is he now?" She chuckled, "please tell him where I am, I wish to stay here..."

"Hmm... But you're alone... Something might happen" Bepo muttered

"Oh? Hah... I guess it is quite open..." She smiled and looked around the grassy flowery field.

"I'll stay with you then...!" Bepo cheered to himself as he situated himself behind you, "what're you doing...?"

"I'm making a flower crown, want to help?" she asked as he nodded, "well then..."

Later...

'where is she...?' Law thought to himself because it's been a long time since Bepo left to go find her, 'nothing bad happened to them, to her, right...?'

It was evident in his face that he was worried so Shachi walked up to him, "you got to relax, captain. I'm sure (y/n)-chan is just out there with Bepo."

"That's the point. I don't know where she is." Law scoffed with a small pout of annoyance

"Why are you looking for her anyway?"

As if law froze to himself, why was he looking for her? Well, he was feeling kind of lonely and sad without her, so he wants to atleast cuddle up to her even for just a little bit, "why? Is it not bad to look for my fiance??"

"Oh well... I think Bepo said he saw a big field of flowers nearby, yiu can surprise (y/n)-chan with a bouquet of fresh flowers you picked." Shachi suggested

Law hummed with a nod, "that sounds... Quite alright..." He muttered, "then it's settled. Where is it?"

"Right over... There." Shachi pointed, "I'm not sure though, Bepo just pointed it"

"Alright, if (y/n) ever comes back, tell her to wait for me in our room"

"Alrighty"

Law soon set off to find flowers for his beloved.

He wonders what flowers he should give, the bright ones, the pretty ones, the ones with a good smell, or the ones that are big.

But once he saw the field, he noticed Bepo's uniform and (y/n) just snuggled on the ground.

She was making a crown while Bepo cuddled up to her

He sighed in relief knowing nothing bad had happened to her and a slight tinge of jealousy cause... Well... Bepo's the one snuggling her, not him.

So he quietly walks up to them and purposely covered her eyes making her jump

"Who's there?!" She gasped

"Guess who~"he sang in her ear

She scoffed with a smile, "law..." She whined as he chuckled and sat on her other side

"What're you doing here?" He asked as he kind of subtly pushed Bepo over so that they could lean back against him as a pillow.

It made (y/n) laugh inwardly seeing how jealous he had been, "oh nothing... Just making a flower crown, for you...!" She smiled and presented the beautiful flower crown.

"Oh... Oh my... It's beautiful" he smiled as he let her remove his hat and place it on his head

"My king..." She smiled making him chuckle and place his hat on hers.

"How can I make one of these? I want you to be my queen" he smirked as he watched her cheeks burn slightly

"Oh you...!"

He laughed and pulled her into his lap, "I've been looking for you for ages" he whispered in her ear after wrapping his arms around her and his head tucked in her neck.

"Hmm? Oh... I'm sorry, got carried away" she laughed as he pulled her closer and tighter.

"It's alright. Just.. shh... I want this moment to be just us... And Bepo" he muttered as she laughed as well.

"I see... I see" she smiled and cuddled law making his chest burst up into flames, "I know you just want this for now... Hehe"

"How do you know...?" He grumbled as he wrapped his own arms tighter in his embrace.

"Oh nothing... Just a small guess"

....

A/N: Is this alright? I did my best at 2 am AHAHHAHA. Anyway, thanks for the ask...! I love it<3

[hoshinoreika2004]

Okay, I finally finished a refsheet of my OC redesign, yippee! Artfight page

This design also comes with a big block of lore I wrote for her, if you want to read that: its below the cut.

At a young age, A little rabbit was separated from her parents from and unknown reason She was asleep in a field of flowers and covered in butterflies when an interestingly dressed man found her. The man who found her was a magician, He figured quickly that the little rabbit was too young to talk or too scared to do so. Despite her visible anxiousness, she stayed put. perhaps she was waiting for something or someone.

The man wanted to find her parents, so he looked around the area with his other performers. No homes were found nearby, so the performers decided to set down their tents in the area. It didn't take long for the little one to become curious and check out one of the tents, she hadn't eaten in a while and the smell of food was impossible to resist.

The small tent she entered was empty, save for a crate with some plates and cups on it. There was still some food on these plates and she was very hungry so she decided to eat some of it, she was thirsty too and there were remains of water in the cups. After she had her fill she felt tired and quickly dozed off inside of the tent, a little bit warmer here than outside. She woke up as she heard the sound of someone approaching, the tent opened and in the entrance were some of the performers that worked here.

They were shocked to find her and because they didn't want to scare her, they kept their distance for now. After some time, the familiar magician showed up to see what was going on. He asked the other performers what to do with the small child and they all agreed to take care of her for now. One of the performers, an elvish acrobat, pointed out the interestingly shaped irises the child had. Because of this, it was unanimously decided to call her Clover for the time being.

In the beginning Clover was very shy and scared of the other performers, the only one she felt less scared of was the magician who she saw back in that flowery field. The magician gave her a gift, a small metallic butterfly with blue gems embedded in it. He told her that it would keep her safe. A few years pass during which Clover became more interested and less scared of the performers, some of them even decided to teach her their abilities.

It didn't take long for Clover to fall in love with performing, she was displaying acrobatic skill before she was able to formulate simple sentences. Not much later Clover ends up joining the group formally and starts performing with them, although she's still young and has much to learn, she want's to pay back the favour of taking her in by performing well. The magician doesn't mind this at all, but he still gives her a cut of the earnings like he does with any other performer. Eventually, Clover becomes popular enough to earn her own stage name. Some guests come just to see the young rising acrobatic star. She chooses the name Zoe: "because its short, simple and easy to remember!".

Skip forward until she's well into her adulthood, the man who once took her in has passed away and the ownership of his traveling performers group is inherited by his nephew. His nephew is ruthless with his demands and hardly does anything to contribute, he pays the performers less and treats them like money printing machines rather than persons.

The performers don't like this, so together they decide to make a plan, Zoe was the quietest and smallest of the bunch. so she'd sneak into the nephews tent dressed up as a burglar of sorts and make him sign away the rights of the group to one of the performers. They make an outfit for Zoe and give her a small blade in case of emergencies.

During the night, Zoe goes and sneaks into the Nephews tent. He's awake with his back turned to the tents entrance. Zoe acts quickly and makes sure he doesn't dare yell out while she makes him sign the papers, afterwards she takes the document and leaves with a swift motion, before he can see who threatened him. She hands the documents over to her fellow performers and asks them for a last favour, she believes to have found her true calling as someone who uses their performance skills to make change to the world

[sam-glade]

Missing home

For @flashfictionfridayofficial's prompt: #FFF205 Where the Flowers grow.

Characters: Ianim, Lissan Setting: Sunblessed Realm WC: 820 CW: -

Context: a couple of months after Lissan moved to the city, near the beginning of Days of Dusk 2

Look, I know this is asking for a flowery, poetic scene, but… I want to write my usual cosy slice of life vignettes when I’m not working on novel-length projects. Also, this turned out much sweeter and fluffier than I intended. Oops.

“So, how are you finding Redguard?” Ianim asked, watching Lissan with polite curiosity.

Lissan stretched an arm over the iron-wrought back of the weathered bench and looked around the small square. It was carved out of a corner of a limestone townhouse, on the eastern side of the river. A lush lilac bush sprawled in the middle of a paved circle, with four benches surrounding it. Ianim took a seat on an adjacent bench.

“It’s… fine.” Lissan’s tone was too guarded.

Ianim leant in, resting his elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands.

“But?” he prompted.

“You know what it looked like back home. Green fields, green orchards, green woods. And here, everything is brick and stone. It’s… weird.”

Ianim smiled gently.

“Missing home?”

“A bit, yeah.” Lissan shrugged. “But that’s not what I meant. I’ve got a trip planned next month. It’s just– It would be nice to find a place here that feels a little bit more like home. To go to on a whim, you know?”

Ianim tilted his head, going over the list of landmarks that Redguard had to offer.

“You haven’t had a chance to explore the city, have you?”

~*~

On Sunday morning, Ianim left his horse in the pavilion near the entrance to the park, tipping the stablehand probably more than was customary. Lissan arrived on foot less than ten minutes later, wearing the uniform, although he carried the coatee in his hands. Ianim didn’t blame him, it was already a hot day. He pointed Lissan towards the tall gate crowned with an iron arch, and they delved into the park at a leisurely pace.

They kept to the side of the wide path lined with orange and pink tulips, while horses trotted past them down the middle. Ianim looked after the riders, his attention briefly caught by a beautiful yellow and blue habit worn by a woman roughly his age. He enjoyed watching the people even more than admiring the blooming trees and bushes.

There were multiple Swords in the park, their grey uniform standing out against the shades of green. Groups of friends from different divisions, or couples – often with one person in uniform, one in civilian attire – sat on picnic blankets, around wicker baskets loaded with sweet and savoury snacks. At a bench near a drinking fountain, an older man was gently tapping small hammers on the strings of a battered dulcimer. 

As Ianim guided Lissan towards the arboretum, he refrained from pointing out some of the rarer plants. The ones that were imported from the Sovanese League or from across the Sunset Strait. The ones that were brought by envoys, to celebrate newly-forged relations. The camphor tree planted personally by an ambassador almost seventy years ago. The blue cypress that was gifted to the First Prince because of its colour. He shook his head, reassuring himself that exotic trees certainly wouldn’t remind Lissan of home.

“So? Tell me about this place?” Lissan said, making Ianim jump, and snorted at the reaction.

“What would you like to know?”

“Just… there’s got to be something special about it. You wouldn’t like it so much otherwise.”

Protests died on Ianim’s lips, and he felt his cheeks flush. Yes, he adored the nooks and crannies of the arboretum, but this outing wasn’t for him.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “In a way, it’s a collection to commemorate various events. A lot of the trees were brought from abroad…”

Soon, encouraged gently by Lissan, he found himself summarising the trip across the Inner Sea with his Grandfather, when he was in his teens. How they were given small saplings, and how Grandfather allowed Ianim to plant them during a toned down ceremony.

Lissan let him talk. He enjoyed it, by the looks of it, and only that stopped Ianim from feeling bad about making it all about himself. Again.

He pointed Lissan to the nearest bench and took a seat, stretching his legs.

“I’m sorry,” he said once his excitement waned.

“Huh? What for?” Lissan asked, sitting next to him.

“This… isn’t what you were looking for, is it?”

“Not quite,” Lissan said with an easy shrug. “But it was fun.”

Ianim nodded his thanks.

“Can you tell me what exactly you’re after?”

Lissan leant back and looked around, his eyes scanning the space above people’s heads and smaller bushes, as if he was trying to see the horizon – impossible, of course, since townhouses surrounded the park on all sides.

“I think it's only just occurred to me. Everything in Redguard is so deliberate. Even here, for every tree someone’s made a decision to plant it in that spot.” He scanned the area again, his expression wistful. “I think what I really miss is knowing that sometimes a tree sprouts where the seed fell. That there isn’t a good reason why poppies or cornflowers grow where they do. Sometimes, it’s that simple.”

~*~

Days of Dusk taglist (please message me to +/-): @acertainmoshke @another-white-hole @poetinprose

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Loving you was damnation

Pairing: Raven Scientist (Victoria Van Gale/The Raven Leader)

Summary: Victoria knew she'd have one chance. One chance at continuing her research. One chance at fulfilling her dream. So she'd have to grab it even if she didn't know what it would mean for her relationship if she did so.

Birgitta would come to understand her point of view... wouldn't she?

Notes: Can you tell that the "you've no idea what I had to do to get it" line in The Storm haunts me to this day. Can you.

Read it on ao3 or read the previous fics in this verse

Victoria drank tea now. It was one of the many things that had changed in her life in the months during which she’d been dating Birgitta Bloom.

It had been during a quiet night in, in the very beginning of their relationship, that she had shared how she hated not being able to take more than one cup of coffee, even on chilly nights like that during which warm drinks felt like three hundred millilitres of concentrated paradise. Were she alone, she wouldn’t have given a care and would have gladly turned herself into a hyperactive child in order to get her hands on the liquid warmth, but she didn’t want to submit her brand new girlfriend to that. Even though it had only been an off-handed remark, Birgitta had paused the movie they were watching and lifted the side of the blanket she was under, so she could go to her kitchen cabinets to see what she could help with.

The steaming cup that Victoria was presented with five minutes later was nothing like the vile drinks she’d tasted under the same name before. Where the little bags of black tea left a bitter taste in her mouth, a breathful of the herbal scent in the mixture she’d been given was enough to make her feel like she’d filled her lungs with sunshine. When she sipped it, fearing she wouldn’t like it and Birgitta would feel offended, it tasted like a flowery field on a summer day.

Proud of herself and happy to have found a solution to her girlfriend’s problem, Birgitta had snuggled close to her on the couch again and given her tips on how to find actually good tea. They had made a date out of it, in the end, and she’d taken Victoria to a small shop on the outskirts of town that sold an assortment of blends in metal boxes. The store saleswoman had helped Victoria find the ones that fit her tastes the best, allowing her to sniff her options before putting the selected ones in small brown paper bags for her to brew at home.

“See?” Birgitta had said when they were leaving the store. “You don’t have to push through things and end up feeling bad when you can just… choose an option that does you well.”

In hindsight, the quote now sounded like a metaphor for what Victoria’s life had become with her in it. She’d been so caught up in her projects, pushing through eternally and pretending she wasn’t human, that it had caught her by surprise to realize all she had been missing. She’d come into her life like a personification of all that had been lacking from it: the warmth, the laughter, the ready ear and kind mouth. 

She’d become acquainted with the city in a whole different light since then. Had been introduced to nooks and corners hiding the most fascinating places, from old bookshops and cafes to parks that no one seemed to have been to in years. Birgitta seemed to be an expert in finding and loving things that were hidden to anyone who didn’t take the time to really look around. Victoria, she’d come to understand, was one of those things as well. And she was so glad to have been found.

They’d ride bicycles around beautiful parks on the weekends, or stay in and order food from nice places. They’d talk about everything and nothing, and act like they weren’t well into their middle age and were experiencing love for the first time. And Victoria thought that, at least for herself, that was the case. She’d had relationships before, but nothing like this. No one had ever made her feel as seen. Her heart had never been so completely not her own.

Even on weekdays, during which they mostly weren’t able to meet due to the distance between them and their jobs, they never sacrificed their daily phone calls. Falling asleep with Birgitta’s goodnight still ringing in her ears had soothed her enough to succumb to slumber on more nights than she could count.

Mere months ago, she’d forget there were other humans in the universe for days at a time. Now there was a mug with flower paintings sitting next to her plain one on the lab’s coffee machine.

In that morning, however, she gulped down her tea not because of how it felt to appreciate it, but because she’d be needing all the help she could get with soothing her nerves.

Victoria had wanted to share everything with Birgitta, she really had. More than once when she’d make a casual remark about how the weather had been lovely, how the vegetation was thriving, how it felt like they had gotten much less extreme weather events lately, it would be on the tip of Victoria’s tongue to let her know that most of it was her doing. She’d feel so tempted, whenever they were talking about work, to share what it really was she dedicated her time to. To avoid the metaphors and omissions and white lies and lay it all out in the open.

But Birgitta had fallen in love with a lie, and Victoria was terrified of her not being as kind to a truth.

Now, the day that had hung over their relationship like a storm cloud finally came. In her quest to lure a weather spirit, Victoria had done much research on them, and none of it hidden. It wasn’t suspicious, she thought, to be interested in the beings that controlled the very thing she worked with. And so she shared it with Birgitta, like she did with everything she felt she could.

At first, her girlfriend had only helped her by allowing her to talk her ear off about them, and getting her all the books she could get her hands on on the topic. Then, when she had felt she could keep the secret no longer, she revealed that inside the Sparrow Scouts camping grounds there was an area where such spirits came to rest. She had known she probably shouldn’t - Victoria had seen it in the hesitation in her eyes - but it had taken very little poking to get an invitation out of her. Though her respect for every sort of natural spirit and creature was big, and she would never want to treat them like a zoo exposition, being able to fulfil a dream of Victoria’s had been enough to make her budge.

This wasn’t something Victoria should be doing alongside her girlfriend. It wasn’t something she should reveal at all. During her months of research, she had, in fact, found a couple of weather spirits. But none would let her get close enough. Each one of her sources agreed on that point: weather spirits only allowed trusted humans close, and Victoria was, understandably, not on anyone’s list.

But Birgitta was.

Birgitta, who took care of the grounds. Birgitta, who kept their secret. Birgitta, who only took people there when it was to teach children to appreciate nature. Who wouldn’t trust her? And if Victoria was with her… maybe she’d be able to get what she needed.

And then, once her task was finished, she’d explain everything. She’d make her see all the good she could do when the power of weather spirits were within her control. The crops were thriving now? Imagine how much more they would when even the percentage of humidity was in her grasp. Climate change? That would be all but unheard of wherever her science could reach. No one would ever lose their homes or be afraid of a catastrophe again, and that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Yes, Birgitta would understand, she told herself. She’d have to.

“Ready?” Her voice resonated in the main room of the cottage which served as headquarters and storage for the Sparrow Scouts’ camping ground. She had a bag filled with whatever they could need for their hike on her back and an inviting smile on her lips, one that Victoria did her best to retribute even if her heart was screaming that this was a terrible idea. 

After having washed the cup she’d been drinking the chamomile tea from, Victoria joined her girlfriend on the front porch. She’d insisted on carrying the backpack for Birgitta, since she was already going to be the guide, but got a ‘no way’ look in response. 

That was fair enough. She’d never really lived down their first meeting.

The only concession that was made was Birgitta allowing her to take their sunscreen and bug repellent bottles and putting them in her own bag; which was a relief, because Victoria really needed an excuse to bring her bag along. Somewhy saying ‘I need to take this device I built for capturing weather spirits, for no specific reason’ didn’t sound too safe.

They set off when the sun had barely finished rising, which had been Birgitta’s suggestion so that they could already be back home when the sun was at its peak. The air was humid and still foggy and droplets of dew slid from the leaves at the treetops and fell on their heads every now and then. Birgitta was kind enough to not comment on how nervous Victoria seemed throughout their hike, dismissing it as being anxious to actually see the beings she’d been obsessed with for so long. She helped her through the tricky parts of the trail and held her hand through the tranquil ones.

After what to Victoria seemed like an eternity, but was probably only a little less than two hours, they arrived at a meandering part of a creek, with rocky margins and clear water. Victoria’s mouth hung open at the first sight of it. True to Birgitta’s word, the area seemed to be a small haven for weather spirits, in all of their three forms. The more common ones, which were cloud shaped, either floated around in the air nonchalantly or rested in the small caves that the force of the creek’s water over the years had sculpted in the rocks. The water vibrated with a second type of weather spirit, those in liquid form, swirling happily around and perfectly merging with the creek; human eyes could not see where the creatures ended and where the water began. Much more subtle were the spirits of the third type. They crystalized in transparent shards on top of the rocks, and the smallest ones could be taken for simple ice if not for the fact that the temperature would most certainly not allow for that.

Essentially gods, laying right there in front of Victoria’s eyes. It should have given her pause, to look at them all like that, at ease and at peace with each other and the nature around them. It should have made her question if she really wanted to put an end to this tranquillity, both in the creek and in her own life. It didn’t. All that the scene accomplished was to make her even more sure of how much she wanted, needed to study them. They weren’t gods, living their lives undisturbed and undisturbing to her. They were gods hogging all their power to themselves when she could do so much better if it were all in her hands.

All evidence she had read about (and collected herself) had indicated that each type of weather spirit controlled one aspect of the climate, so she knew she’d only have everything she needed once a spirit of each type was at her station. But she was also realistic, and knew there was no way she’d manage to capture more than one of them at the same time, let alone keep them all in the containment station she’d built.

“So? What do you think?” Birgitta asked after Victoria did nothing but stare at the image before them for a whole minute, unaware of the strategies and calculations running through her girlfriend’s head at that very moment. Instead of answering, Victoria took a step forward with as much caution as she could.

All the spirits turned to face them. As long as they had sensed that a person they trusted was the closest, they hadn’t minded. But even the small step alerted them to Victoria’s presence.

“Careful.” Birgitta whispered reverently. “They don’t really trust humans, and have good reasons for that too. You don’t want to unsettle them.”

Another step forward. Now, they were all staring straight at the scientist, who gave them the same treatment.

“Victoria.” Birgitta’s voice was cautioning, but Victoria wasn’t listening. Her mind was filled with strategies, trying to decide which of the spirits would be the easiest to capture. Her gaze landed on the smallest one of the vaporous type, which had floated a couple of metres away from the bigger ones of its sort. It looked at her not with jugement, but with open curiosity.

A child. Victoria had never really thought she’d stoop this low. But she had always known she’d do whatever it took to bring her plans to fruition.

Noticing that she was going to walk even closer to the spirits, Birgitta reached out to grab Victoria’s arm and stop her, but not quickly enough. With an agility she’d never demonstrated before, the woman reached inside her backpack for a device Birgitta had never seen before, and leapt forward. The gadget looked like a gun, but with a mechanical claw at the end. Her jump took her closer to the child spirit, and it gasped as Victoria extended her arm and pulled the trigger, making the claw open and close and capturing the spirit. Not only that, but once it was safely inside the claws they spread out and the metal was rearranged in a sphere around the cloud, through which an electrical current was sent by the device, in order to pacify the being inside. 

All of the creatures turned their wrathful faces to Victoria, and there was screaming and threatening from their part and crying out from Birgitta’s. Victoria looked back as the Raven Leader screamed after her, running at her direction and telling her to let it go, confusion and betrayal stamped on her face. 

So she ran away. Further into the forest whose map she’d studied beforehand and away from the woman who took her there and from the enraged gods, but not before she made sure she wouldn’t be followed. From her pocket, she took a special grenade she’d built for the occasion. Throwing it against the creek’s rocks released a mixture of aerosols, acid molecules and dust particles into the air, which would stop any spirit from running after her. It would be a wonder if they could move at all for the next half an hour, at least. 

Birgitta wouldn’t follow her, either. She’d be too worried about the remaining weather spirits to leave their side, and she knew where she would be able to find Victoria later, either way, so there was no need to worry about her at the moment. This was the only thing Victoria hadn’t prepared logically for. And yet, she knew it. Her heart told her so.

Just like it told her, as it pumped to the best of its ability oxygenated blood to a body so unused to running, that she would regret the past two minutes for as long as she had breath in her.

                                                      .........

The day dawned gloomily, but it took Victoria a while to notice it, since she hadn’t even gone to sleep that night. Since arriving home, exhausted from coming on foot straight from the camping grounds, she’d stayed up making sure that the containment station was suitable for the creature that would now inhabit it. She’d tried talking to it, of course. She told it not to worry, that she only wanted to study it and run some experiments and then she’d release it again. It hadn’t trusted her, naturally. At that point, it would be surprising if anyone did ever again.

Her mind felt torn; half of it dazzling with her newest conquest, half of it as tempestuous as the weather outside. The spirits were gathering up to attack the Bureau, she was sure of it, and all the possible protections were already in place. The only other thing she could think of doing was distracting them, and that she would do soon enough. There was another matter she needed to tend to first, however.

Picking up her phone, she saw that there were no texts. The only notifications were the same missed calls from Birgitta from when she’d been running home, but when Victoria had failed to pick any of them up, she’d apparently given up. Which wasn’t a comforting thought at all.

Her finger hovered above the “call” button, but after a couple of seconds of debating her options, she sighed and stored her phone away in her pocket. Even she could see that her actions had been too serious to be explained over a phone call; she’d have to do it in person.

More times than necessary, she certified herself that the containment station was in full order, and that the child couldn’t escape. After doing so, she put on a raincoat and left the Bureau.

The streets were empty when she left the weather station’s van; it was still too early in the day for most people to be out and about. With her hoodie covering part of her face, not many people greeted her along the way, both because she wasn’t recognizable and because she probably looked a little insane like that. Truly, she’d decided to wear it so that the spirits couldn’t identify her from above, but it seemed to have the added bonus of not having to fake smiles for strangers.

When she arrived at Birgitta’s building, she climbed the - now very familiar - three flights of stairs and placed herself at her door. She knocked, and was just considering knocking again when Birgitta’s voice came from the other side.

“What do you want?”

She’d been wondering how mad her girlfriend would be at her. Apparently it was ‘won’t even open the door’ mad. Understandable, truly.

“I want to give you an explanation.” She tried not to sound like she could feel her drumming heart in her ears, and her skin itchy with the effort of retaining all the tension in her body. Her only hope was that Birgitta’s peephole wasn’t so good as to allow her to notice all of her discomfort through the lens. “I’m sorry for tricking you, and for running away without a word. I have reasons for doing what I did.”

“For kidnapping a child?” She snapped, making Victoria flinch back. “For breaching the trust those creatures had in me? For using me to get what you wanted? Do you, Victoria? Do you really have a good reason for using me all along to get what you wanted?”

“I wasn’t using you all along! I wasn’t using you at all!” Victoria gasped, hoping it was the truth. “I love you! I really do. This was just something that I had to do.”

Her laugh was dark and ironic, too unlike the usual melodious sound that always made Victoria’s heart pick up pace. It was awful; the noise didn’t fit Birgitta at all. And the worst thing was that Victoria knew it was her own fault, even if she didn’t see it the way her girlfriend did.

“Why?”

“Think of everything we could do!” Her brain scrambled to remember all the justifications she’d made for herself over the years of working on that project. “Potentialize agriculture, prevent damage, upgrade the fishing industry-”

“Those aren’t yours to change! They aren’t yours to control!” Birgitta groaned from the other side of the door. “Nature takes care of those things herself for a reason. If you want to play God, there's nothing more I can do to stop you. But I don’t ever want to see you again.”

Who would have guessed that the sound of a heart breaking resembled thunder. Victoria could have sworn it would have felt more like delicate machinery short circuiting, or something more subtle, but she’d apparently underestimated the power it had.

“I thought you supported me!” She begged, foolishly holding on to the hope that she’d fallen asleep during her vigil and this was just a bad dream. Never before had she allowed herself to believe that this conversation would go this badly. “I- I thought you loved me too!”

“Yeah? Well, there’s a reason for that.” Birgitta chuckled, even though Victoria could hear that her voice was strained with the effort she was doing not to cry even with inches of wood between them. Her own voice wavered when she answered, fearful of what blow would come next.

“Which is?”

“I thought I knew you. Guess we were both wrong.”

                                                    …......

No more phone calls. No more sharing how their days went. No more looking forward to the weekends because she knew something lovely and exciting would be waiting for her, even if it was just staying over at each other’s houses. There would be nothing more of any of that in Victoria’s life.

When she left the building, there were no tears streaming down her face. She didn’t feel like she had the energy for that. But there was a new, resolute set to her shoulders, and an eerie silence in her chest. 

She would fulfil her research. She’d see it to the end if it was the last thing she did; after all, it was the only thing she had to live for anymore, and there was nothing that could stop her. 

Especially not a silly heart.

As she walked back to the van, she rolled her eyes at the weather spirits gathering above the town. As powerful as they were, if her theories were correct they shouldn’t be able to sense the child, not from inside the containment station. Victoria was ready, either way, and she’d keep her focus, scattering substances similar to those in her grenade every now and then so that they remained disoriented. She hadn’t more than a thought to spare for them; her own mind felt a lot darker than the sky at that moment. Unless something happened, they would eventually lose the scent they were after and scatter, only to pick it up again if they gathered nearby again for too long. It was already unlikely, and if the powers that be had any love for her in their hearts, the spirits wouldn’t do something of the sort.

And if they did, she could distract them by sending a probe to their midst to incite an argument. Spirits loved to debate, surely that would take them off of their track, if needs be.

She was out of the town as quickly as she was in. There was nothing holding her back anymore.

She didn’t understand why that fact hurt so much.

[brokenhardies]

some fun luna and the doctor facts!

when luna first met five (the visitation) she fainted in front of them due to it being her first time being shunted around the timeline

she quickly realises that this means that eleven knew she was going to pass out and didnt say anything... which means every incarnation from five onwards knows that she passed out in front of them

she's most worried about meeting six, he's going to have the most creative flowery insults for her about that

speaking of five - luna had a crush on them when she was a kid due to thinking that they were a woman

when she found out that they weren't a woman (thanks to the 'sexual awakening' scene from black orchid) she was a bit embarrassed

instead of the six & peri comment she accidentally drops this when under the truth field in time of the doctor meaning that eleven, twelve and thirteen all know this (so do fourteen & fifteen but im waiting to write those two later down the track lol)

all of the doctors know that luna is a lesbian. she hasnt come out to any of them. maybe she's made it obvious? she doesn't know

she does get to meet sappho with the first doctor and he kind of went "...oh that explains a lot"

speaking of one - luna gets along best with susan, vicki and dodo. they all try to get into trouble together

luna always ends up stealing the doctor's clothes - she's walked around in the original four scarf (not the second one because someone ripped it up), as well as seven's sweater vest, eight's original coat and nine's leather jacket

luna isn't sure if the reason eight, war and nine all wear leather jackets is because of her or because of ace. or because of none of those things

the doctor has met the seeker and insulted it. several times. they dont tell luna that theyve done that 'cause they dont want to put luna in danger, but they will call the seeker "a pathetic egocentric moron with delusions of grandeur and hypocricy"

yes thats a six insult - he definetly called the seeker that

luna frequently wonders if the doctor is aware that their life is a tv show because of how little they care about the fourth wall

she also wonders who plays certain roles that the doctor's actors have played if they look exactly like those characters, or if those shows just... dont exist

which is a shame bc she loves good omens... then she finds the book in the tardis library and immediately loses her goddamn mind

theres a thick of it joke i can make here but my brain is blanking on it

[chaosincurate]

Alvvays defined

This one is gonna be a fun post for me to make. Listening to the monarchs of musical bliss, the indie pop idols, Alvvays, every time, without fail feels like an inherent act of musical artistic appreciation, like I can't help but to think about how great music as an art form is. To make it all the more impressive, the band manage to maintain that high constantly throughout an album, and across albums. I don't tend to buy into the whole "no bad songs" thing because I find it undermines the value of your appreciation if you ignore flaws as opposed to loving something in spite (or even because) of them, but when it comes to Alvvays, I genuinely don't dislike a single song, even really a single moment, they've created. They aren't perfect of course, and we'll get into that a little bit in a second, but I'm convinced they are one of the best indie acts going. Let's get into why.

Alvvays (self-titled)

When I say this album is one-note, you'd be forgiven for thinking I found the album monotonous, boring, and repetitive. You'd be forgiven, but mistaken. This debut album from Alvvays is consistently exciting and establishes a core identity expertly over a concise 33 minute runtime, which also helps ensure that their lack of experimentation isn't felt. Featuring flowery and left-field lyrics (see Adult Diversion), dreamy guitar lines (see Atop a Cake) and the perfectly restrained rhythms to facilitate the euphoria of each and every song, the Alvvays sound was focused and flawlessly executed from day one.

I did mention that Alvvays weren't perfect in the preamble, and while they came out on their first album more or less fully formed, that applies as much to many negatives of theirs as it does to positives, and the clearest negative I've found in their discography is inconsistent album sequencing. I haven't tried, but I get the impression their albums, especially their later two, wouldn't be too badly affected by playing them on shuffle, although each project certainly has its own identity which helps them feel cohesive.

Even with that negative though, the sheer quality of these songs make it fantastic, especially considering it's a debut. Not many acts are immediately gifted enough to get me whipped up in the pure joy of music like songs such as Archie, Marry Me, Party Police, Atop a Cake, and Red Planet do.

Apple Music link

Antisocialites

What do you get if you take the exceptional qualities of the last album, and add some refinement and slight experimentation, along with punchier production? A 10/10 album called Antisocialites, apparently. You hear it all right off the bat too, with In Undertow introducing you to the album with a washed out distorted guitar that feels like the aural version of a low wave on the beach immersing your feet. That blissful, "life is great", picturesque holiday feeling pervades this album entirely. You cannot love music, hear this album and not feel joy. It's just impossible, and I will not be convinced otherwise. Alvvays had me by the balls from the first note of the album and took the opportunity to give me a (barely metaphorical) orgasm.

I must admit, I struggle to be at all analytical about this album, as you may have noticed, simply because this capacity to induce joy and awe almost evades analysis. I can tell you it's indie pop. I can tell you it's brilliant and one-of-a-kind, but I just cannot tell you why beyond what I have here. It all just either seems so perfect but so obvious, or just completely indescribable.

Again, I don't like to say that something is without flaws, I don't like sounding so uncritically adoring, but every song on here (except one that I will get to) is noteworthy and awe-inspiring to me. The perfect energy of Plimsoll Punks and Your Type, the girl-group charm of Not My Baby, the dynamism of Hey... I could easily go on, but I'll spare you any further pious rambling, and leave it at the promise that every song is incredible in its own unique way that branches naturally from the sound established on the band's debut.

The one criticism I have that I hinted at earlier, was that the sequencing was a little awkward again, particularly in that Already Gone, a song that is well below the album's par for me (although still great in a vacuum because of course it is, Alvvays are almost annoyingly good at this whole music thing), felt forced in between Lollipop (Ode to Jim) and Saved by a Waif. I'm glad it's a song that has seen the light of day, and I think there's definitely a version of this album with that song on it that feels more natural, perhaps having it by the slightly slow Dreams Tonite as opposed to being sandwiched between very high energy, happy songs, but it just doesn't work here in my opinion.

Anyway, that's about enough fawning for a [blank] defined post, so overall thoughts: Alvvays' middlebrow status-quo rituals more than sufficed here and if you like indie pop or any surrounding genres and don't listen to it, you're stinky and I don't respect you until you do. Do it. It's good, you'll like it. Look, I'll even link it for you:

Apple Music link

Blue Rev

And after a quick 5-year non-hiatus- induced break filled with drama, personal and global (Donald Trump's presidential era gets strictly no Alvvays, which I respect), the frankly too talented Alvvays returned with their most diverse album yet, starting with a slightly garage-leaning rendition of their sound with Pharmacist and Easy On Your Own? before getting back to their old sound, and their best version of it yet, at that, with After the Earthquake (obligatory mention that the final "are you awake now?" that Molly Rankin belts out is eargasmic), which makes for an incredible introduction to the album, telling you to expect a lot of variety, but in a way that is true to their already established identity.

Then they try their hand at being a The Smiths cover band without getting into legal trouble with Pressed, and they mimic their indie royalty predecessors with an apparent ease that is mind-boggling and follow it up with the sincerely sweet Many Mirrors which, thematically, appears to act as a reprieve from the stories of romantic hardship to tell a, presumably, more reality-founded story of a situation that is as effortless as it was at the onset of their feelings.

Then there's a sharp left-turn towards the delightful Voidz-esque Very Online Guy that just confirms that the band are having as much fun as you are, as the band takes the soundscape of the early internet to inspire the instrumentation on the track about a guy who is, get this, very online. It goes over cyber stalking, constant opinions, and similarly modern stressors with a sense of humour that makes it go down so easy.

Then Velveteen (yes we're going more or less track-by-track, this album is chaotic in the best way) serves as the payoff to mentions of "velvet" found in other songs on the album, giving those mentions an added level of meaning retroactively before flowing perfectly (credit where it's due) to the similarly mellow, and distinctly melancholic Tile By Tile and then reminds you what band you're listening to by taking the foot off the brakes with the ball of tired altruist energy of Pomeranian Spinster, my personal favourite Alvvays track that doesn't even get enough love amongst Alvvays fans from what I've seen. It's a typical length, 3 and a half minute song that is so incredibly fun and charismatic it feels like half that at least.

From there, you're given a little bit of a break with the Belinda Carlisle-approved Belinda Says which is a beautiful anthem about just making it work. Being dealt a shitty hand but going all in anyway and figuring it out as you go.

From there, the album mostly just continues to wind-down, which is far from a flaw. In fact I think it was necessary. Constantly high energy isn't as easy to pull off over 30 minutes as it is over 40 and taking that extra few moments to just bring you back down to reality pays dividends for an album that gives you transcendent moments like they have an overabundance of them, which I imagine isn't actually far from the truth.

All that positive stuff being said, the album does have it's flaws. Personally, Fourth Figure strikes me as tonally redundant, and while the sequencing is more or less on point here, the album does still feel a little too messy to match or surpass the quality of Antisocialites, even if it does provide it's own charm.

Apple Music link

Playlist

Frankly, I'd recommend just listening to the albums, in chronological order even, but for those who, for whatever reason, would prefer a playlist of some of their best, most representative stuff (at least in my humble opinion), that can be found below. I hope it helps you in some way!

Spotify

Apple Music

[evakadlec]

ARTIST STATEMENT 2024

I’ve been working on a series of watercolors called ‘BÖSE BLUMEN’, a lovely crude

translation of ‘Fleurs du Mal’ (or Evil Flowers – Flowers of Evil).

The paintings depict anthropomorphic flowers, often the blue poppy, with wild-eyed faces and sharp teeth. They are cute, unhinged, lonely, desperate, thirsty.

Their faces borrow from memes (like the “I am not asking anymore” one), movie stills or emojis – one source of inspiration was a meme page which rated the hot emoji variations from different devices – the android one was described as “hngnn I am a thirsty little flower and you have to water me with [redacted]”).

I structure my work by creating sort of moodboards in magazine form or ‘manuals’ for myself. They consist of sketches, written notes and pictures glued in. These are sourced from other artists work I admire, movie stills of interest, or textures that evoke a specific memory.

A potent source are low-brow books on hobby artist techniques as well as the works of Henry Darger, George Barbier, Heather Benjamin or Simon Hanselmann.

This sourcing and sorting is an important part of my work.

The flower I depict the most, the blue poppy, is only found on the flanks of the Himalaya.

It is also the national flower of the Kingdom of Bhutan – the one country which put as its national goal the happiness of its people. Close by are also vast fields of red and pink poppies, the source of opium – i.e. heroin; a flowery symbol of global conflict and necro-capitalism.

But another fascinating aspect of the blue poppy is its similar function to the black swan.

The black swan theory describes the possibility of a totally unexpected event as still one possible outcome, even though it has been deemed impossible.

An illustration of that idea is found in David Lean’s “Lawrence of Arabia”.

In his 2019 video essay “Nothing Is Written... Or What Gives Me Hope”, G. Belvedere recounts an iconic scene from that film, the moment when Lawrence returns from the desert to the oasis:

“(...) before quenching his obvious deep thirst, [Lawrence] tells Ali once more: ‘Nothing is

written’. It is a powerful scene. This impresses Ali enough, that he remarks to Lawrence

later: ‘Truly, for some men, nothing is written unless they wrote it.’ (...) too often, people

point to tendencies and practices, as if they’d represent absolute truth, and this mantra can

help us test these artificial boundaries; in the political and economic spheres in particular,

we see people simply accepting the state of human affairs as natural, and unchangeable. (...)”

In 2019, I took a sharp turn from my previous, more abstract work. I leaned into my earliest and most personal sources of inspiration: Weird puppets from children’s TV-shows, emotive catholic imagery, fairy tale narratives, and the language of  internet subcultures.

In making BÖSE BLUMEN, I hope to synthesize these influences, but mostly, to give form to this voice that says:

Truly, nothing is written.

[pxlmtrecs]

(—) ★ spotted!! MIA BAKER on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid! many say that the 25 year old looks like MADISON BEER , but i don’t really see it. while the SINGER is known for being LOYAL my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be STUBBBORN i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the song TEST DRIVE BY JOJI {she + her / cis female}

FULL NAME  :  mia renee baker.  NICK NAMES  :  mia , mi , m , mimz.     AGE  : twenty five   DATE OF BIRTH  : may 16th , 1999.   ASTROLOGY SIGN  :  taurus sun , gemini moon , gemini rising. GENDER  :  cis female.   PRONOUNS  : she / her / hers.   SEXUALITY  :  bicurious.   OCCUPATION  : singer POSITIVE TRAITS  : creative , loyal , stable , honest , independent , strong willed , charming , intellectual , faithful , loving. NEGATIVE TRAITS  :  blunt , stubborn , possessive , indecisive , can be selfish at times , closed off ,  irritable .  HABITS  :  biting her cheek when she’s nervous , putting her hair up in a bun when she’s getting a task done , cleaning when anxious or mad , flirts to make things more comfortable . AESTHETICS  :   messy bun , getting underneath the blanket when sad , flowery summer dresses in a green field , papers with notes and words all over the floor , piano playing at 1am , lamp lights in the middle of the night . CHARACTER INSPO  : mary santiago , joey potter , samantha micelli, aria montgomery , topanga from boy meets world , rory gilmore  (that’s it for now) . VOICE CLAIMS: madison beer , gracie abrams  

background :

-- david and alexandra baker were high school sweethearts . they were both born and raised in west orange , nj . they got married in 1996 , and traveled the world a bit . they came back to montclair , new jersey after a few months . her mother was a teacher in one of the elementary schools while her dad worked as banker . the bakers (like their last name) loved baking , but they both had jobs they loved .  –– it wasn’t until 1999 , when mia was born that the bakers decided to change their lives completely . the doctors told alexandra that after the birth of mia , she can’t have any more kids . so they opened up a small boutique bakery in montclair and called it ‘mia’s’. to them, she was their whole world .  –– their bakery was the best one around montclair, causing it to be packed on certain days , but the bakers didn’t mind it . as long as they were able to provide the best of the best for mia , they were happy. –– growing up an only child , she had everything she wanted . she wasn’t that spoiled and she never had the most expensive things , but her parents got her whatever she wanted . she was a quiet kid , never really cried or screamed , was every parent’s dream child . she was extremely smart and did well at school . -- at the age of 12 , everything changed . her dad just got up and left her and her mom . it wasn't until a few years later that she found out her dad was cheating on her mom and had a whole family of his own . this caused her mom to spiral . she was constantly looking for someone to fill in the void david has left . she wanted someone to be a father figure to mia . -- when david left , alexandra blamed herself . she thought she wasn't good enough , she thought she was not pretty enough . maybe she wasn't a good enough of a wife . -- due to all of that , she projected these feelings to mia , telling mia that she always has to look pretty , to put on makeup , to dress nice -- even if she's just going out to the grocery store . -- her mom would go out every night , leaving mia on her own . mia was confused , but her mom told her it's going to change their lives . and it did . it didn't take long before she met her current husband - mia's step father , who was a well known business man all over the US . -- mia's step father was rich , which made alexandra close her bakery , as her new husband was the provider and breadwinner . -- around the age of 14 , mia started exploring the idea of writing , but she never really did anything with her songs as they were about friendships that ended and high school boyfriends that cheated on her ( not really cheated as she was never exclusive with anyone ) . a month after the school year was over , her mom and her moved to beverly hills to live with her step-dad , as he had to move to california . -- mia wasn't really interested in going to college , but she did put some time and money into piano lessons and guitar lessons . she always had a love for music . -- but it was when she met maddox , that she really got into writing . they met when she was 19 , he was truly everything she wanted . he made her feel loved , he gave her all of the attention she needed . until he didn't anymore . one day he just disappeared on her and that broke her completely . she understood why her mom acted the way she did and why she felt the way she did . -- that was when mia really got into writing and put one of her songs online on youtube . the video went viral in less than 24 hours . in 48 hours after the video was posted , she was already signed to a record label . -- however , she left the record label a year after being signed . they didn't really think that the "heartbroken girl" should be her vibe . they thought she should make more poppy-sexy songs rather than talking about her heartbreak . so she decided to leave them , knowing that she would rather put out something she believes in than something that will gain her fame . -- it didn't take her long until she found a new record label , that supported her and let her put out anything she wanted .

[parvaavem]

3 best and 3 worst choices your muse has made. Why do you agree or disagree with each one? Has your muse ever been in an ugly situation where the wrong choices must be made and consequences faced?

Chion's Three Best Choices:

Joining The Cause. Despite all that he has seen in combat, Chion would gladly do it a thousand times over if it means protecting his countries freedom and rights. Was he afraid at first? Absolutely. Only fools fear nothing, but whether it was helping the wounded at camp or being out in the battle field, he has no regrets.

At first, he found Alexander Hamilton a bit on the uppity side of life. Too flowery with his words, reminding him strong of those victorian novel characters later in life, but when Washington's Aide de Camp agreed to have him under his wing, Chion was great impressed and in some ways, Alexander changed his life. To further pursue his beliefs and fight for all that is right.

Not joining General Lee or Bradford. Self explained.

Worst Choices:

Chion can be too trusting of others. When Benjamin at one point kidnaps Simcoe (different than what was in the show, for fanfiction/rp purposes), Simcoe weaves a tragic tale about his mother when he was a boy. This gives Chion to state what Benjamin and Caleb have done, to higher officials.

Reluctantly allowing Caleb to take Visare, the only horse at camp not injured from battle too severe Caleb returns with an injured Visare (broken leg). Chion refuses to speak to Caleb for some months after, regretting doing so after Simcoe captures Caleb.

Chion is not perfect by any means. It baffles me when I read OC's like that old Harry Potter one, or my old ones from long ago how perfect they were and could do no wrong, I see it even with canon characters in some series. I do not agree with all of his choices, but, I hope to develop him further. I love watching OC's grow and develop. No one is God or Jesus, that's what I try to remember when writing a character.

[detectivesus]

Okay we need some better confessions though. Everyone share your best and worst flirting moments. I’ll start:

Best: I was at a party in the backyard of a friend’s parent’s house and I knew there was this gorgeous flowery field behind the hedge so I took this girl I really liked that had never been at this place before there and then kissed her. Still proud of this one.

Worst: I was talking to a girl at a club once who was very flirty with me which I liked. Then I went back to my friends for a bit but later I went looking for her again. I thought I found her and it took me about 10 minutes of talking to her to figure out i was actually talking to HER SISTER…. oops

your best was pretty smooth to be fair!!! i’ll need to think for a few minutes and get back to you, lots of contenders for the worst i think 🤣

[molagboop]

Missed this post the first time around because i was face-down in the proverbial gutter but here are some Things (starting with my brain rot):

Mawkin warrior culture puts an emphasis on the written word as a potent weapon in one's social arsenal. There's no shortage of literature heads in the ranks, and Raven Beak himself was an ardent warrior poet in his youth. He still writes, but he's not slipping nearly as many impassioned couplets into the pockets and satchels of prospective nest-guests as he was some-odd 600+ years ago.

On that note: he's a bisexual king. If you asked him about it, he'd look at you funny because Chozo don't really think about gender and sexuality the same way real life humans do, but he'd probably end up quoting Wise Wing the Elder on how relations come in many forms, and there are those who love some and those who love many, and each one's interpretation of the greater concept of "love" is manifold, and however you spend your waking breath is worth something if only for the fact it led you somewhere. In fact, you probably shouldn't ask him about it unless you're willing to sit down for an hours long philosophical discussion. He's a shrewd academic with a vast library of knowledge, this topic can get pretty abstract, and he's very willing to engage the younger generations in sharing ideas. Sometimes he seems like he doesn't know how to be brief when philosophy comes up.

Raven Beak never had any children of his own, but he's very good with them. He was a community-raised child himself, and helped take care of the kids hatched to soldiers in his barracks early in his career.

He's a polymath, and can operate most of the essential systems on ZDR without assistance. He's had a very long time to learn new things, and he hasn't wasted a second of it. Raven Beak got his start with mechanical engineering, loosely following his father's footsteps while he meandered around the academic/career space, figuring things out and writing flowery prose. He eventually found himself at the foot of weapons development, and contributed to projects which made the accumulation and discharge of Energy via arm cannon even more efficient, as well as developing several suit-bound projectiles. During his understudy, he began his military career, and eventually indulged his childhood interests by immersing himself in the field of biology. His studies went across the board here, but he started with animal science before landing on microbiology, and later genetic engineering. This guy is everything: he's a physicist, a climate scientist, a mathematician, and a leading expert in biological warfare.

He and Grey Voice were Very Good Friends. That sentence can be interpreted in several ways, all of which are correct.

Raven Beak holds Old Bird in very high esteem. Every time they meet, Raven Beak will kneel, greet the short raisin of a bird, and extend a palm with offers to take his coat and the like: "Are you cold, Wise Grandfather? Do you require fluid refreshment?" Etc. Raven Beak ensures there is a consistent stock of Old Bird's favorite teas and other treats onboard his cruiser in case he ever needs to cater to the old guy.

I mentioned the other two big names of planet Zebes, so I might as well namedrop her as well: Raven Beak is utterly disinterested in Mother Brain at best, and absolutely loathes her at worst. Raven Beak has many opinions on artificial intelligence and what it should and should not do: he thinks Mother Brain is too nosy and that she does too much around the planet. Every time he visits Grey Voice in person and seeks to talk to him about anything of marginal importance (Grey Voice being a leading figure on Zebes), he will whisk him away aboard the Mawkin cruiser where Mother Brain can't follow, because foreign AI is not permitted on Raven Beak's vessel. His house, his rules, and he says no nosy robutts.

Mother Brain hates it when Raven Beak does this, and will stubbornly park her mobile orb frame right outside the cruiser at the closest acceptable distance and wait for Grey Voice to disembark. Her consciousness is simultaneously attending to matters elsewhere, but she makes an effort to watch the door so she can scoop up his attention first chance she gets.

Sometimes during their private talks, Raven Beak would invite Grey Voice to stay the night on the cruiser to give him a bit of a break from his many duties and catch up with his old friend. Mother Brain hated this. Raven Beak was keenly aware of her ire, and invited Grey Voice to partake in meals and trivial happenings onboard the ship to prolong his stay and increase the chances of Mother Brain having to wait in a shower of acid rain for his return. Raven Beak wasn't just doing this to be catty: he had hoped to find the limit of what she was willing to endure before giving up so he could perhaps someday have one visit where Mother Brain and Grey Voice weren't so high strung and up each other's rear ends. Loosen some of the tension, teach the dog with separation anxiety that its master wasn't disappearing forever when it left the house, that sort of thing. It never worked, and the stubborn lump of muscle despised Raven Beak until the day she died. She concocted special plans to "deal with him" and everything as leader of the Space Pirates, but her army never got to the point where she felt confident enough to actually challenge the Mawkin... and she got distracted by the whole metroid thing. Figuring out how to use the metroids as a weapon took precedence over making motions to trounce her sworn enemy.

With my brainrot out of the way, let's talk about things I don't go off about nearly as often:

Samus is proficient in most things mechanical. She performs maintenance on her own gunship (knows how to mod it to boot), takes care of her suit, that sort of thing. When mercenary work is in short supply, she moonlights as an auto mechanic: she works on personal vehicles, both terrestrial and those suited for space flight.

She has a passing interest in archaeology and is very inquisitive.

Samus Aran and Anthony Higgs: very close friends! They have such good synergy. Anthony still works for the government (in an official capacity, as opposed to Samus' unofficial pro bono "they hire me sometimes"), so he's not always around, but they hang out pretty often and help the other with groceries on occasion.

Regarding groceries: Samus is a very important person, savior of the galaxy and all that. Sometimes she's got a lot on her mind, and doesn't always have the time to be worrying about meals and apartment upkeep. Sometimes she forgets her health completely to focus on the current problem, so if she's spending any downtime at home port in a situation like this, Anthony will go out of his way to say "hey do you want me to pick anything up for you?" Samus appreciates his thoughtfulness and makes a concerted effort to pay it forward every chance she gets.

Samus is good enough at human social cues, but she was raised Chozo, so sometimes it's a little hard for her to pick up on certain things (mostly cultural norms and little quirks of "average people manners"), particularly when galactic politics aren't involved. She can smell when a motherfucker's lying, but sometimes she forgets that most people don't pick buttons and pennies off the ground at social functions, or that some humans find sudden (not super loud, but unexpected nonetheless) noises disconcerting.

She also hates the lights on the ceiling at the grocery store because she can hear them buzzing, but she finds ways to muffle or ignore it because that's the only store that carries her favorite snack, and it's also the only grocery store whose in-house beverages are any good, and Samus likes a good beverage while she's walking.

Samus loves animals, and knows how to treat them respectfully. Pyonchi is still around. He's not always hanging around the apartment, but he's around circa Dread. I got the feeling that he possesses higher intelligence than your average pet animal thing, so who knows? Maybe he's coercing politicians into doing the right thing at Federation HQ in a distinctly cat-knowingly-pushing-something-off-the-counter-like way. I need to look over the manga again to get another read on him.

Anthony is a conservationist, and he works to ensure Daiban's native plants and animals are thriving alongside sapient society in his spare time. It's not full-time volunteer work, but he does go out into the community to advocate for endangered plants and insects, and is very enthusiastic about educating people on which fruits, herbs, and vegetables would grow best on their apartment balcony while also benefiting the local ecosystem.

Anthony's got a green thumb... for herbs. It's not that he doesn't know how to grow anything else, it's just that herbs are the only thing that seem to want to grow for him. He has the worst luck with vegetable seeds. Everyone says heelbrush doesn't put out much when grown domestically in his area, but when he grows it, the bushes are huge. Yet when he wants to grow roe root, the easiest of all the tubers to cultivate, none of them sprout.

When left to his own devices, Adam sometimes plays solitaire and minesweeper in the gunship. He's very good at Bejeweled and can also sweep you in Tetris 99. Samus does not know about his casual gaming prowess: she doesn't even have any of these programs installed. He has never laid eyes on an XBox in his life and never will.

Sometimes Samus allows "trashy" reality tv shows to play in her living room because she feels that the shenanigans people get up to on tv makes her life feel normal by comparison.

She also very casually consumes Horse Friend Adventures. Her interest was initially sparked when she recognized the name very vaguely from her early childhood, and now it's just something that's on every so often. Sometimes she'll say "I wonder what those horses are up to" and then she'll flip the channel over and see what those horses are up to before she leaves for work. It's fascinating to her in a sense that she could have been immersed in this culture growing up, but circumstance put her and the colorful ponies on different paths

The tv in Samus' apartment exists almost solely for background noise. She hardly ever makes a real effort to "watch" anything.

Your Metroid headcanons mmmmm. Give them to me.