#I mean from an artists perspective I understand the straight hair

[staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty]

Can we please Acknowledge that Sanguinius looks like the Emperor in a wig here

I have more of Sanguinius looking like Big E in a wig

Like Sir, why do you look that!? Who told you not to brush out your curls with your fingers???

[seospicybin]

VESPER PREVIEW.

Hyunjin x reader. (s,f)

Synopsis: You've been praying every night for someone like Hyunjin to come and when he finally did, you doubt that he would approve your job as a stripper.

Preview under the cut!

...

All of these eyes are on you.

You're supposed to be the one looking at them but it's the opposite, you feel like you are the painting and not the other way around.

Wish you could understand paintings, you wonder how these people who attended the art gallery get to talk about them like they're reviewing a book while here you are, trying not to be intimidated by all the stares you got from these people in a painting.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" A voice says.

You didn't know someone is standing next to you and looking at the same painting with you until you turn your head to the side.

"Oh, well, I'm just wondering why the little girl is giving me the side eyes," you playfully remarked.

He softly chuckles and lightly nods, "yeah, she's looking not happy."

One look is enough to know that he's tall and 60 percent of that height goes to his legs and the 10 percent is the dark long hair that curtained his small face. His eyes, nose, lips, and everything on his face complement each other

You have to actively tell your brain to stop staring at his beautiful face.

"I don't understand a thing about paintings," you mutter and everyone can probably see how out of place you are. You are here for something else not to look at these art pieces that you know you don't have the capability to comprehend it.

"You're lucky that I'm here then," he says with a nice smile.

You smile back but resist the urge to look at him, God knows that you'll not stop staring once you do. You keep looking straight ahead and endure the side eyes of the little girl in the painting instead.

"This is Las Meninas by Diago Velázquez," he introduces you even though there's already a card with a short introduction of the painting below it.

"It's a nice painting, right?" He asks with his body turned at you.

You nod even though you're not sure if it's 'artistically' nice based on your judgment as someone who doesn't know anything about art. But is it pleasing to the eyes? Yes.

"But what makes this painting so interesting is because it has a secret illusion," he says with a suppressed excitement in his voice.

You tip your head to the side, "really?"

"A lot is going on here but let's break it down," he then takes a step closer to your side to explain further about the painting.

"First, the little girl is giving you the side eye," he starts.

"Yes."

"Then these people must be her entourage," he says as his hand to point the part of the painting he's explaining to you.

"Someone is creeping in the back steps, there's the painter, and then..." he glances at you before continuing to speak.

It gets you intrigued that you turn to face him unintentionally, "what?"

"You see that mirror on the back wall?" He asks.

"That's a mirror?" You ask back since you didn't notice it before.

"Yes, and the reflection in the mirror is meant to be us."

"Us?" You sound like you heard that word for the first time in your life but liked it without knowing the meaning of it.

He nods and lines himself to stand right next to you then looks back at the painting.

"With all that considered, from where we're standing as the viewers, we're the ones being painted looking at the rest of the room."

He gently places his hand on your shoulder and turns your body slightly to the left to make you look at a certain part of the painting.

"The square shape coming off the side, that's the canvas, and that guy..." he pointed to the guy holding a brush in one hand and a pallet in the other, "he's painting us."

It's like someone flips the switch in your head and the light bulb finally lights up, everything makes sense to you now. It seems like he’s the one who's enjoying your moment of enlightenment the most.

"In the present time, we're getting used to this perspective because we have things like phones which make us understand this perspective of being behind or in front of a camera," he eloquently explains as if he memorized the textbook explanation of it.

"But he made this painting in 1656 and this perspective thing must be trippy for its time. That's what makes this painting so groundbreaking," he finished.

"Wow!" That's all you can mutter as you try to process all of these pieces of information in your head.

On the other hand, it's nice to hear an explanation from someone who knows what he's talking about and doing it so passionately. Not only that it's very informative, but also, low-key hot.

There's just something about a person who talks about something he truly passionate about.

"I am indeed lucky that you're here," you playfully remark with a low laugh.

You've been avoiding looking at him long enough that it feels impolite, slowly you turn your body to face him. You find him shyly smiling and brushing his hair to the back.

"Are you working here?"

He lifts his head but now it's his turn to avoid your eyes, "No, but I'm a painter."

"Oh, that explains!" You say.

When he finally meets your gaze, your heart skips a beat and you stop breathing for a second which is something that rarely happens to you when you've seen so many kinds of men when you're at work.

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you here if not for the paintings?" He asks.

A man with manner, that's a first. You confidently look at him as you speak, "my friend works here and I'm waiting for her so may as well look around..."

"Your friend is a curator?" He wildly guesses.

"No," you answer, "she's working at the front desk. You probably saw her when you came in."

"Ah..." he nods.

There's a silence going on for a moment and he brushes his hair to the back, looking like he hesitates to ask you something.

You decide to keep the conversation going, "are you coming alone?"

He sheepishly smiles, "no, I'm coming with a friend," he proceeds to point at a guy with bleached blond hair who's looking at a painting on another side of the gallery.

Somehow you feel good that he makes it clear that he comes with a friend or maybe it's your question that is pretty much the equivalent of asking if he's single or not.

Your phone vibrates inside your purse and you open it to check a new message from your friend, telling you that she's already waiting in the lobby.

"I'm sorry but my friend is already waiting," you say to him.

He looks at you, then at your phone, "can I have your number?"

You offer your phone instead to him, "why don't you put your number on mine?"

He takes it from you and types his numbers on it, then hits the call button so he can have your numbers on his phone as well.

He introduces himself as he hands your phone back to you, "I'm Hyunjin."

He offers his big hand with slender fingers with bracelets around on his dainty wrist for a handshake.

You shake his hand and introduce yourself back to him, his hand is cold but once you see his smile, you feel warm all over.

You're not sure if his personality will match his beautiful appearance because you can’t decide on it yet.

But is he pleasing to the eyes? The answer is a million times yes.

-

The full fic will be posted tomorrow!

[flightlessangelwings]

“I just hope that when you say “sending hate” you don’t just mean getting the whitewashing called out. Because white people do have a habit of demonizing when poc get angry and I just want to make sure that’s not what’s happening here.”

I feel like that’s a bit of a shitty thing to say considering the amount of anon hate writers sometimes get. poc can be shitty anon haters. Obviously nobody is going to send hate with their public account. It’s always on anon and I’m sure there’s people of every ethnicity and every part of the world doing this shit.

Also, white people don’t need to be “called out” for writing a fic from their perspective. Fact of the matter is that white people just aren’t going to have the same experiences as poc do. Anybody can point it out and the writer can decide what they wanna do with that. But calling out writers because they don’t write how someone else wants it on tumblr is a bit ridiculous.

As a minority I can understand the frustrations but it’s just impossible to be inclusive to everyone. Just use your imagination or look for writers that write specifically for what you’re looking for.

Honestly the minute I wrote that down I knew someone was going to have a problem with it.

Yes you are right, anyone can be a shitty person and anon hate can come from anyone, even poc. I’m not denying that. Nor was I justifying or condone it because I don’t think anyone deserves any hate or harassment. We’re all here together and sending hate back and forth is not the way to go and that was not my point at all.

Where we disagree is on calling out whitewashing.

This isn’t about what I personally want but about the bigger picture here. I personally have tags blocked, content filters, block writers, etc. I curate my experience. I back out of things I don’t vibe with. But this isn’t about me personally.

No, a given piece of fic is never going to include every single person. People are too diverse and that’s an impossible goal. And what is helpful to one person is triggering to another. It’s just how things work with large groups of people.

The point is to be as inclusive as possible in your writing. It’s simple things like avoiding white coded language (like blushing, straight hair, etc), white coded names, relations to white characters, etc. Yes there are going to be some experiences and actions that the reader does that won’t always be inclusive but the whole point is to try!

And to tag things properly! Sometimes that makes a world of difference to have that proper tagging at the beginning so we aren’t blind sighted by white coding. I feel like that’s not a lot to ask.

And I have spoken to a ton of writers and artists who have appreciated being (kindly) called out and who do want to do better. Who do want to work to be more inclusive. And I’ve personally seen these writers and artists so better and improve. It can happen. And that doesn’t mean your a bad person if you have white washed before. We all make mistakes, it happens. It’s how you react and how you learn from it going forward.

Inclusivity helps everyone. It helps writers and artists become better. It helps poc feel seen and included. It brings the community together. Why wouldn’t you want that? Why wouldn’t you want better? Because I do.

[alykatsevents]

Hi there! I'd like to request a Hazbin Hotel romantic and/or platonic matchup!

Personality:

I'm usually pretty quiet and keep to myself, but when I'm around the right people, I can really come out of my shell! I've got a mischievous side and love to tease once I feel comfortable with someone. When it comes to relationships, whether they're platonic or not, I tend to take on a motherly, almost dominant role. Gift-giving, acts of service, and quality time are my top love languages, so those little gestures mean a lot to me. I thrive in relationships where there's communication and a sense of openness. Something that really bothers me is when someone acts strange around me but won't tell me what's going on. It's like they're pushing me away. I'll make an effort to figure out what’s wrong, but I won't chase after them. I believe in being straightforward and honest. I'm a deep thinker, always trying to understand the world better. I'm not afraid to be myself and stand by my beliefs. Though even if I disagree with someone, I respect their perspective and believe everyone is entitled to their own opinions.

Looks/music taste/etc:

I’m female, around 5'8" and weigh 140 lbs. I have straight black hair that falls in a wolf cut to my lower back. I usually wear low pigtails and an emo side bang. My style is a mix of dark coquette and office-core. I like to add a cute touch with rectangular reading glasses, even though I don't really need them.

When it comes to music, I'm pretty open-minded, enjoying everything from jazz and rock to steampunk and R&B. Though you won't find me listening to mainstream artists too often—I prefer the diversity and depth of non-mainstream music.

I love animals. My favorites are sea leopards, snow leopards, cats, owls, and jumping spiders! Hm, what else.. I really enjoy learning disturbing facts! Usually about old medicine techniques.. Fun fact-! Leeches were commonly applied to patients to "balance the humors" or to treat various ailments, under the belief that removing "bad blood" would improve health! This practice was accepted at the time, but often resulted in excessive bleeding, infections, and other complications for patients😬 ..

Not sure what to else to add so I’ll just end it here.. pretty sure I got too carried away anyway, sorry about that!

I (platonically) match you with...

Angel Dust

~He sees you as a mother figure

~He'll ask you for a fun fact when he just got back from work, Takes his mind off it for a second

~He'll bring you little trinkets that remind him of you

~Goes to you for advice or if he needs someone to watch fat nuggets

~It takes him a second to open up about his issues and let his mask fall down, But once he does, the mask is down

~Goes to you to vent

~Yall are one of the best friends duos: The quiet one and the loud one

~He'll go to you for music recommendations, loves your taste in music

~Jokingly calls you mom

~He'll shove Fat Nuggets in your face going "Look at your grandson!"

~Steals your phone and takes pictures of himself

[aks-of-the-weak]

Incipit: I'm sick. Not actually sick, not covid sick, just the little kind of sick where the nose runs a bit and the throat is a bit sore and the brain heats a bit too much to be doing arcane mathematics for Godot shaders. so here i come instead. Writing Homestuck OCs. My beloved.

Aquassa, Sign of the Stylist: This one's pretty abstract looking.

Constellation: Turns out a Stylist is a pretty vague job, right? Most commonly it's a hairdresser, but anyone who arranges things to be stylish is a stylist. Let's start by going down the Hair path. Hair has some association with magic in popular culture, but i'm not so sure what it is or where it comes from. Aquacin, the Knotted Wand was alledgedly a "mystical" constellation as well, so maybe a magic theme can be a unifying trait amongst Violet constellations. Ok, future Aks here. I didn't find shit. Mostly it's vague witchcraft shenanigans about connecting a non-descript spell with yourself. There's always the myth of Samson, but i'm not a big fan of the Bible.

Hmmm. Let's take this from another perspective. I know i want this troll to be a parallel to Maipur because of their opposing aspects, sways and hemospectral status. Maipur is a Landscaper, at least in name, and by the "anyone who makes things stylish" definition a Landscaper is a kind of stylist. If the metaphor of Artist's constellation was "Skill honed through trained repetition", then Aquassa should be a denial of that. Not "Skill from inborn talent", that's too boring. Maybe Holisticism? "Things will always end up fitting together by themselves". Characterizing a character by "Skill honed through trained repetition" means characterizing them not just by "trained repetition", but before that by their need to be skilled in the first place. So the opposite of that is a character characterized by not needing to be skilled. But i'm not diving into the character yet. Constellation, constellation! While i was spitballing about hair i had the idea of a "hair-cutting constellation". The circle on the right would be the head, the bar on the left the cut-off hair and the bar separating the two would be the scissors.  But with the new thematic this doesn't really work anymore. So, what object is Holistic? What object will function by itself? After some thinking i've settled on a Fruit Tree. A Fruit Tree is a lot more independent than a crop, i think. You don't have to replant it after every harvest and they're more resilient to changes of weather and temperatures. Official constellations don't have any plants, so some might say a fruit tree isn't appropriate for a constellation, but to me that just means it's new grounds to explore.

Physicality: First thing, as a carry-over from the Hair-based brainstorming this troll will have long straight hair. Genuinely long, going down to his ankles. And mimicking that hair, his horns are also long, thin and pointy, starting from his forehead, curving over the top of his head and ending up behind his nape, meaning if he tries to look upwards he risks stabbing himself in the neck. He's supposed to be a parallel to Maipur, so an Idea would be his strifekind would be a mundane object like how Maipur fights with a Paintbrush. Scissors is the obvious answer, but i'm trying to move away from the hair thematic, so i'll go with Shears instead. Clothing-wise, he's a proper noble in fancy clothing. He wears a long cape on his back colored dark-violet on the inside which gives him a sort of Dracula-type look. As for Psionic powers... 

Lore: « Throughout history it has been the common understanding that sea dwellers  cannot manifest psionic abilities. From this assumption, many theses have sprouted throughout academic circles. Sometimes, the naturally strong and psychically resistant constitutions of violetbloods hinder the mitosis of echocerebral cells during the larval and prelarval stages of development. Sometimes it's the process of anti-senescent regeneration which consumes psioactive agents in the blood. These are interesting theories worthy of a profound examination, but in this text, i would like to linger upon the possibility that the assumption itself is flawed. If, hypothetically, violetbloods could manifest psionic phenomenons, what sort of properties could we observe in them? Well, for one, by looking at the concentration of vascular molybdenum [...]

In conclusion, if Violet Psionic Manifestations were possible, they would be on the extremely trained end of the spectrum, further even than Chucklevoodoo and Catharametry. Perhaps completely opposite from Indigo's wholly innate "Mutations". They would have to be Fast in activation, almost as much as Burgundy Psionics, but also Short-reached in effect, somewhere just below Teal Manifestations. Most importantly, we must not forget the Sociological aspect of it. If it is a power that has remained undocumented, it is likely that it is one that can be fully or greatly utilized while remaining undetected. » - George Wiccus, 956, Encyclopedic Catalogue of Psionic Manifestations in Trollkind and Related Faunas, Volume 6, p.4-13, Never published.

Short Story:

You stand before a large orchard. Behind you is an ornate gate of black metal. Forward, on the other side of the orchard, looms a dark, dark mansion. So dark it could disappear with just the gloom of the dusk. As soon as you passed through the gate, this one Sea Dweller came out of the mansion and started walking towards you. You thought you'd wait around, you know how much these jackasses care about manners and whatnot, but the little shit sure is taking his sweet time. You've been here about 15 minutes and he's barely gotten closer. You're pretty sure he stopped to prune one of his trees at some point. So, what the hell, you lean back against a tree and take out your machete. He sends you a death glare like he thinks you're gonna start hacking at his trees or something. If bitch had objections, bitch shouldn't have been 300 meters away. The base of the blade is made of flint, so you knock a piece of steel on it and use the spark to light your cigarette. That's all you need it for, man. You put it back and he mellows out. Good to know you exist, at least.

Another 30 minutes pass where you're just chillin. You've been hopping planet to planet throughout the outskirts of the empire trying all the different cigarettes you could get your mitts on, and you gotta say, these ones are preeetty good. The way the smoke kinda grips at your throat, then lets go, like scratching an itch your hands could never reach. What was it, Xoribon-, Xorabok-, Xoripokics? You can't read the shit that's on the box. Anyways, Solid A-Tier to whatever it's name was. Not quite on the level of the Artisanal Cadaczan Ballots in S-tier, now there's the ultimate form of tobacco. As for Troll Cigs, of course, most of them belong in the F tier. They take a larva, dig a hole in it, stuff it with random chemical products and call it a day. They don't even wrap it or anything, pretty sure one of them you tried had plastic glitter in it. Absolute disgrace. The olives got some good shit, but half the time it's laced with some crazy bullshit that'll send you to death's door. That's how it is with your species, they've got no vision, no artistry, and when they ever do it's a shallow attempt at upping numbers on a—

"I trust you are Maipur Lenote."

You turn your head towards towards the haughty aristocrat who finally finished his mosey. What, is this bitch being impatient now?

"That's me"

"Your earlier taunt was in quite bad taste. Do not do it again."

You pull out the machete and turn the flat of the blade towards him so that he can clearly see where the metal turns to rock.

"It was no taunt, sir. This is all i've got on me to light a cig. I don't carry lighters, y'see, makes it too easy for some psions out there."

Lies. You doubt he'll buy it, but set a trap and you might catch a prey, set a hundred and you surely will. The aristocrat frowns.

"Irrelevant. Walk with me."

Damn, this guy's bossy. You put out your cigarette on your fireproof jacket and stuff it in your pocket. You might be a killer, but you're no litterer. The violetblood begins to walk and you follow.

"I've heard formidable stories about you. Taking on entire groups at once, taking on highbloods, taking on powerful psions and weaponmasters alike."

They always start with that. You don't know why they think you'd be flattered to hear that. You don't know why they think you're proud of killing hundreds.

"I've also heard you're an aficionado of the arts, a master of painting, gardening, scenic landscaping. Remarkable."

Ok, well, now you're blushing a little. He gestures to the fruit trees all around.

"As you see, I am something of botanist myself. My collection collection contains specimens from all over the galaxy, and beyond. I hear this one is even from another universe altogether."

He stops and points to a tree filled with red berries.

"I do know the claim sounds far fetched, but i do not believe it is not unfounded as i obtained the saplings from one man of great wisdom and class. Not the kind to spout petty lies. Have you met him, perchance?"

Bro bought some random tree marked up from a scammer in fancy clothes. You swear, violets are so easy to trick. You just shrug as an answer and he seems content with it.

He reaches his arm into his long cape and draws out a pair of pruning shears. A classic trick, hiding one's hands to pretend you're getting an item from physical storage when really you're just pulling it out of your strife deck or sylladex. If anything it gives you more information than he gains. Bad move, bitch. He uses the shears to prune a branch filled with berries and hands it to you.

"It's unfortunate, had you arrived half a season earlier you could've seen it in its flowering state. It blooms with bright pink petals that fall with the sway of the winds. Quite the regal sight. Care for a sample?"

Bitch. You just like calling this guy a bitch.  In your mind. He has a really callable-a-bitch face. But anyways, you accept and captachalogue the branch. Then you reply:

"To be honest, i didn't think you called me here to talk about this type of work."

"Ah, yes. I suppose it is for 'work' that i have let you enter the premises. So tragic how rarely 'work' aligns with 'interest'."

You both resume walking. You thought he was going to continue with something, but he just keeps walking in silence and looking at his trees. Now piping back in is awkward, but you do it anyway.

"You want me to kill someone."

"Hmm, no, not exactly. There is a group. More a ragtag posse of societal rejects than any sort of real organization. Their leader stole one of my ships and now they are traversing the cosmos, tracking an item we wish to have for ourselves. For my part i wish nothing more than to see him charred husk on the floor, but..."

He hesitates.

"My moirail, you see, used to be matesprit with him. And well, with all the pale affection i have for her in my collapsing and expanding bladder based aquatic vascular system, objectively speaking, she is... Shall we say...

Batshit fucking insane, on her better days. She would have his legs cut off at the knee and nailed to the ground, the lids of his eyes surgically removed so that he may never avert his gaze, and then all of his good friends slowly killed off in front of him while he begs with the regret of having ever 'betrayed' her. Or so she says."

You really wish you could take or dismiss jobs based on morality sometimes, but that's not a luxury that's often affordable when one is in the business of contract killings. You've got a lot of people on your tail, especially right now, and if you want to live another sweep you're going to need the cash and means this guy is willing to part with.

"Well, i'm not asking you to go so far. Just making sure most of them die will be enough. Personally, i'm interested in however much closer you can bring us to the aforementioned item. Find us even an inch of information and you shall have rewards beyond value"

Fancy nobles and their metaphorical ramblings. What could he possibly have to give better than Money. You keep walking towards the mansion in silence. You'd like to think the years have toughened you, molded you into this hard-boiled lethal mercenary that knows no pity and no remorse and yaddi yaddi yadda, but the truth is it still sticks to you. The screams of agony, of visceral hate, even from people who would laugh doing the same. You hate things that stick to you. Sometimes you wish a great wave of death would swoop away through the galaxy and wash away every troll and their starships clinging to the void of space and let them crash down on the sun and planets all around. And only you would be left. Civilizations of the entire universe would cheer and start anew. They'd make art and products more beautiful and pleasant than your entire species has even tried to produce in the thousands of years of its slaughterous existence. And you'd be left jumping from planet to planet, seeing it all, trying as much as you can with the time in this world that is actually yours to u—

"May i ask a question?"

Ugh, hasn't he talked enough?

"Shoot"

"There are millions of low bloods, fighting and killing each other, right now and at any given moment. No doubt you've been amongst them at one point. But where they have confronted death twice, thrice, maybe a dozen times, you've met countless more foes, some outclassing you in number, in sheer strength, in psionics. What is it that makes it you came out on top, and they perished?"  

You consider answering with something stupid, that a noble would like, like "idk, i guess i'm just better", but in your walk, obnoxiously slow though it was, you've grown just a smidgen of respect for the man and his strange passion for arboreal botany. Here you were, thinking shit about your species' sense of artistry, might as well say something worthwhile.

"I think it's just luck. No matter how skilled, strong and prepared you are, at the end of the day you enter a battle with some amount of unknown information. Everyone risks death, i've just been lucky enough to hit twelve on every roll of my d—"

"WRONG!"

His scream makes you take a step back. Shadow hits your face. Dusk has set. The sun is now behind the Mansion.

"It is because you are better, Lenote!"

Its mass cannot be distinguished from its shadow which has now passed your head and runs ever deeper from whence you came.

"Highbloods are stronger than Lowblood, Psions are stronger than Mundanes, Number is stronger than being alone."

You now realize that at some point the man shifted from leading the walk to walking besides you. He takes a step closer to you, or so you think. It's too dark, you can't be sure.

"And you, Maipur Lenote, could come all this way to my doorstep because your talent with the flame and the blade, because your cunning as killer, it allowed you survive even without those cheap advantages of circumstances."

You could swear he has gotten taller. But you could not, you cannot see. You hear movement from where he is, but it's not his, it's something else. Is there a beast there, with him, in the shadows? An alien? Why would it not sneak up from behind you? Throughout this talk you've been certain you could kill him with relatively little risk if need be, but now you're not so sure.

"We ask this job of you, Maipur Lenote, not because you are some petty mercenary. But because you are an Artist. with Death."

It's lunging towards you. You take out your machete and swing in the air. You hit nothing. You equip your Giant Paintbrush and the steel plate under its hairs is hit by the flint of the machete. Sparks fly. It ignites the tar coating your brush. Light again.

He is just standing there. Normal Sized. No beast anywhere. Nothing lunging at you. Just a bitch with a smug face while you're flipping the fuck out.

"Is there a problem, Maipur Lenote?"

"Uh, yeah, it's dark as shit in here. I was just getting us some light."

"Ah, I see. I happen to have excellent nocturnal vision, so i don't always notice these things. My apologies."

Excellent nocturnal vision my ass, you think. His pupils were completely undilated, there's no way he could see shit in there. Finally, you reach the manor's patio.

"We have arrived."

He opens the door and signals you to get in.

"Come on in, the rest of The Court is eagerly awaiting to meet you."

"You're not gonna ask me to leave my weapons at the door?"

"Of course not, we have manners."

You step through the doorframe. As the doors closes behind you, you think back to your talk with that man. Or rather, the one he has had with you. You think that, in your little game furriers, you might have ended up the prey.

Excipit: Gods damn, i love writing. You forget how fun this shit is when you start thinking about how you "should write" instead of actually doing it. I've cut the Lusus and Personality section. The former, i think i'm doing away with since it's not relevant most of the time. Ajiana Carcha (this guy) had a very weak mosquito-type lusus who died from getting crushed/killed when he was pretty young. It broke his heart really badly </3. That's enough lusus info, imo, maybe i'll integrate it into Physicality for future posts. Personality i'm not doing away with, but when you've got such an extensive short story, plus for an antagonist who you generally want to keep mysterious more than a protagonist, i think it's not necessary. I dream of a day where i'll be able to just say stupid non-sequiturs in the Excipit. Instead most of it is taken up on the actual subject of the post. Ugh, so annoying.

[possessionisamyth]

If One Piece, Bayonetta and Resident Evil debuted in the late 2010s or onwards, what improvements and downgrades in terms of character and plot do you think they would have? Especially in regards to female, minority and LGBT rep?

I think they'd be dogshit across the board lol. But I'll put all this under a read more so other people can skip by it.

Look, I know people get queer coding (good and done by people who are bending censorship rules as much as they can to show gay rep) and queer baiting (bad because it's hetero people doing "will they, wont they" with intent to make money off the gay fans they've accumulated and give no actual rep) confused with each other, but the 2010's was The Time for queer baiting. It was also the time where internet consciousness was getting a lot of new words for various genders and sexualities. Hell, I was a university student when demisexual started to spread around in online social spaces, and all these new flags were being created so fast none of the more adult gays I knew could keep up. Which is saying something!

The intersection of feminism, race politics, and queer politics were being highlighted and examined by a new generation of adults who were figuring out who they were and wanted to know where they stood. They were also being horribly shat on by people whether they were gay or straight or men or women. A fuck ton of racism was inescapable to all audiences as "reverse racism" and "blackwashing" were coined by every white person even slightly offended that a random artist they'd never met decided to draw an anime character with brown skin and the loosest curls of black hair. It didn't matter how popular these white content creators were either because they got away with the harassment with little to no consequences! In the 2010s I couldn't name a single fandom where people actually got a fuck ton of hate mail and death threats for being racist, but I could and can still name fandoms where black and brown folk get slurs in their inboxes for having taste and good design sense.

There's legitimately people who say cartoons which came out in the 90s that they enjoyed as children couldn't come out today in the exact same manner because they'd be "too woke". This means having any woman lead that didn't breast boobily where ever she walked is "catering to the evil sjws". Claire would get knocked down. Jill would get knocked down. Nami and Robin would "gradually improve" because Oda draws them and all the other women worse as time progresses. The infighting with Bayonetta would be it's own very special ring of hell.

I would murder people if I had to see en masse every white man shitting on the decisions to make Carlos and Luis visibly brown and call it "brown washing". I'd see blood as groups of terminally online white women would accuse both of these men as being aggressive and pushy towards Jill and Ashley who they would in the same breath romantically pair with fucking Nikolai and Ramon or some shit. I saw this happen with Dragon Age. I saw this happen with Fallout. I want blood! From a corporate perspective, you can also look at RE6 and understand corporations were at a point of trying to cater to a market of whatever is "most well received" at the time. Guess what? Every big game company was doing their best to make the same money as Last of Us and Call of Duty. You couldn't escape the yellow or pale blue camera filters unless you lived on the Steam page and only the Steam page.

Did you ever see that art of white Lucio and white Black Panther? Did you know that Homestuck fans had to make a POCStuck tag for their art in an attempt to avoid harassment? Did you know about the fanfic authors incorporating BLM into their fic for shits and giggles on ao3? Did you see the widespread posts of trans white women saying that trans black women were taking over the narrative? Did you see the fat-shaming and racist vitriol in the androgyny tags? Did you know about tumblr closing the accounts of black organizers online and saying they were russian bots trying to kill the election? All of this was in the 2010s! LIKE!!!!! IT WAS ABSOLUTE INSANITY!!!! And most of this was still just on tumblr! I wouldn't even know where to begin with reddit. And god, fucking Gamergate happened in that decade too. It was hell.

The 2010s was a time for a lot of change, and many vocal minorities did not like it and pushed back super hard. This lead to many artists and directors whether indie or corporate making changes in their media and stories for the worse. It is still frustrating and weird as shit watching tumblr white artists I remember from those days who were making real unscrupulous content now making money off the same crowds of people on here with "their change of heart". And by change of heart I mean pretending they never did anything. Did they apologize? I'll never know, and if I ask it could go normally with a private DM or extremely terribly for me if they make my ask public! I do know a lot of them got jobs in the industry though if they didn't start their own business, so there's that!

I think Resident Evil, One Piece, and Bayonetta came out exactly when they should have. Yes, a lot of concepts in them did not age well. Yes, they could be better about representation. Yes, there are changes being made now with both One Piece and the Resident Evil Remakes that would've been nice to have a decade ago. Yet had they came out into the world any later, they might not have gotten off the ground, especially with these corporations buying up each other as quickly as they have been.

I am by no means saying the 90s and 2000s were specifically better for queer rep, feminism, and poc rep in media. Sometimes we got really good shit, and sometimes we got horrible, harmful stereotypes. There were a lot of gray zones too. I was a kid during those times, and viewing the world from a child's eyes is different than viewing things from the eyes of the adult. I can look at media made from those decades and tell which ones aged well and which ones did not. I can determine intent behind narrative choices and see who put their heart into their works. However, these things were also made during a time where anyone could make a movie, tv show, or video game without it being a huge ordeal outside of making the damn thing. Today that is no longer the case because of executives wanting to shove their statistics for money making into every single development decision that's made, and a lot of people don't know how they can navigate their art away from that hollow tube of garbage to get in the door.

[deconstructthesoup]

More ideas for this story:

One of the most avid listeners to Bonnie's broadcast---who eventually gets in touch with her---is an agender, aroace hacker named Cody Tanaka (aka Kryptic) who's a complete conspiracy goblin and survives largely off of spray cheese and cherry soda.

Jessa's species appears aquatic, due to having skin that's in various shades of blue and feathery fronds instead of hair, but they're actually climbers---digitigrade legs, four arms, clawed toes and hands, a tail for balance... you get it.

Her species are called "felvians," and their original planet is called Della.

Felvians are natural explorers, which is why they started branching out to uninhabited planets once they developed high-speed space travel and realized that their population was getting a bit out of control.

Felvians are also mostly non-violent, though they're no stranger to having to defend themselves... and they're also, like, a foot taller than the average human.

The planet that the felvians and humans landed on---which I don't have a name for yet---didn't actually have any sentient species before they arrived, just wildlife. Thankfully, the wildlife had a lot of similarities to both Earth and Della, so adjustment was easy.

Bonnie's parents are divorced and she lives with her mom, who doesn't have a lot of patience for her daughter's so-called hallucinations. Her dad's more understanding, but she doesn't see him often.

Jessa has two dads, both of whom are incredible!

When she's not broadcasting her paranoia, Bonnie is an artist, and the only real reason she leaves her room other than for school is so she can get inspiration. Of course, her paintings have a tendency to be... disturbing, at times...

Jessa is both a total sucker for out-there fashion and a bit of a jock---she's on her school's Hustle team, which is essentially a sport that consists of a bunch of people trying to get past a series of incredibly complex obstacle courses.

The reason that Jessa is broadcasting is due to the fact that she struggles with expressing her emotions that aren't just straight-up happiness and excitement, and her own therapist recommended that she try doing a little radio-slash-podcast thing as a diary. Stumbling on a frequency from the human city wasn't something that either of them expected... but it definitely works out.

Bonnie's therapist's name is Dr. Elinor, and Jessa's therapist's name is Dr. Mikaele. Elinor definitely has some secrets up her sleeve, but I'm fairly certain that Mikaele is just your average, well-meaning therapist... who's, well, an alien, but aliens can be good therapists.

Bonnie and Jessa are nineteen and twenty---Bonnie is a college student who lives at home and is pursuing a premed degree despite wanting to go into either communications or art school, and Jessa is considered a young adult by felvian standards but is still in her final year of secondary ed. (Cody is eighteen and looks twelve, because Short)

The leaders of the felvian city and the leaders of the human city communicate regularly and often do trade, though everyone in the felvian city knows about the humans and literally has no idea that the human leaders are lying to everyone. In another inverse, felvian families often make trips to Della, which is still thriving---in no small part due to the felvians being more spread out.

So, yeah, in summary, from Jessa's perspective, she's living in a chill, low-key coming-of-age story with some comedic undertones, and Bonnie is living in a straight-up psychological horror. I still don't have a name for this.

Story-slash-podcast idea inspired by a really trippy dream I had last night:

A girl grows up in a city on another planet, except that everyone living in the city believes that they're on Earth. She keeps on seeing and experiencing things that prove that they're somewhere else, but nobody believes her.

She starts broadcasting her findings out into the void, whispering about how the sky should not be orange, how pigeons should not have two sets of wings, and how the people in power smile too wide and look far too similar. This is in part a suggestion from her therapist, who believes that if she voices her supposed hallucinations then they'll start to make more sense, but it's also so she can see if there are others who see through the ruse.

And then she picks up on a similar broadcast, done by an alien girl who lives in another city---an alien girl who is well aware that neither her species nor the humans originate from the planet they now reside on, and is shocked to hear that the humans are willfully living under a lie. The two start using the broadcast to continue communicating, slowly uncovering the truth as they go

(And they fall madly in looooove)

[borkthemork]

The Wu Whereabouts Theory

Now that people are getting hyped for the month countdown toward Amphibia Season Three’s release, I am going to be talking about a theory my friend and I talked about over the past few months, and it’s time to buckle up because we’re going to be tackling this theory from a production, character design, and semantics perspective.

And why these specific factors? Because the theory revolves around these three characters.

And why I believe all of them are related in some way.

Now, you might ask yourself: Bork, how in the hell are these characters related? The old woman character doesn’t seem to have any semblance of features relating to Marcy. What about the dad, are you going to explain the dad? Are you pulling my leg?

And to that, we’re going to have to start small. I’ll first explain why the character on the right seems to be an important character to the story, how all these characters can be connected through deliberate design/semblance, and then I am going to hit it out of the park with the probability from a logical perspective with what the intro and past Marcy interactions seem to give us on why everyone is where they’re currently at.

Especially where Marcy’s father is currently located.

This theory is very, and I mean, very long, so hang on to your seats as we dive into my thoughts about where Season Three might lead us.

And credit goes to @CynDavilaChase on Twitter because she made me realize the probability of this theory in the first place.

And with that, let us begin!

Section One - Who’s This Woman?

With animated introductions, I think one of the big things I noticed with Amphibia Season Three’s intro is that it’s heavily serialized. Compared to Amphibia’s introduction with Seasons One and Two, there are a lot of animated scenes found in the sequence where the story is already being told in a narrative.

You get shots of Anne being introduced to her house, you get new important characters introduced in a lot, there appears to be insight into future events such as Anne getting a moped while being chased by government agents or the massive monkey robot chasing her through the alleyways.

A lot of the intro is prioritized over its serialized format, and that means the characters seen and animated in the foreground have to be important characters or else the studio is basically wasting time focusing on a background character that will never be seen again.

Of course, you get some sliding shots like with the construction workers or the beach scene with the beach-goers but that’s only for a second and they’re not truly the forefront.

But during the shots between 0:29 and 0:49, the sequences we see include a lot of what appears to be important scenes with important characters that will play some role in the story itself.

There are no parts in the sequence where background characters are put in the foreground. Each bit of the animation needs to count, it needs to tell a story of what’s to come and what the audience can anticipate to see.

Now that begs the question:

Why is a supposed random background character in the foreground?

We got some reason as to why the engineer lady looks important since she was in a shot full of important or supporting characters, but why her??

Sure, one could argue this shot could just be indicative of Andrias’s invasion, but there are numerous other ways to show that there’s an invasion without putting too much animation effort on one background character, especially from a composition perspective.

Pardon the messiness, I had to do this quick, but look at how all three ladies are lined up.

The far left grandma, when following from her head to the the front lady’s creates a line that not only creates a sense of direction for our eyes to follow but follows the more significant and foreground character of all three. Look at how the dragonflies occupy most of the top of the frame while the two older women stay in the marketplace’s form, and how this leaves the younger woman to be abruptly placed in the open — creating a visual that this character in particular is more important than the rest in the shot.

Check the way the characters move their eyes when the scene happens too: the background characters quickly look to the right, then the woman out in the open then directs her eyesight to the skyline, where all the dragonflies are flitting by.

Now, I’m not a storyboard artist or composer, I could be wrong on how the crew created this scene all together, but regardless it is still so odd to put emphasis on a background character in the front and then just leave it at that.

She has to be important in some way, and this is where I want to talk about character design.

Section Two - All Related or Am I Just Racist?

When it comes to character design we need to talk about how the character designers make sure to give Anne some form of semblance to her parents, and in this case, she looks a lot like her mother.

They got the bushy hair, the same skin tone, eyebrows, etc. And with her dad you could even see that Anne got her fluffy bangs from him specifically. Only one shared genetic trait, however.

This is deliberate, we know that for sure, and that is why I need to make this very clear as we transition to the similarities found in Marcy and the theorized characters, and why I believe they’re related in design. Mainly because the concept of race and appearance could be quite a debacle and I wanted to make sure that all of you know I am not assuming things out of naivety, and if I am, feel free to get my ass.

Other than that, let’s look at them again.

And here I shall compile the appearance stuff that each character seems to have.

With these three characters they seem to connect to one another with one genetic trait, but if one looks closely, there comes the question of the older lady (who I will just call Marcy’s mom at this point) and why she’s vastly different to Marcy when it comes to skin tone, hair color, and hell — if we look between Marcy and the engineer — why these two characters have vastly different hairstyles compared to the woman.

Even though I could give speculation and some doubt to the engineer and Marcy’s mom being related, and on first glance I couldn’t do the same with Marcy and her mom either, but then I did some digging and realized something. I can connect Marcy and her potential mom in one way — hair design.

Marcy and her mom both share the same poofy hair, it’s just that one is more short and the other is allowed to grow out in a nice little nest.

Don’t believe me?

They got the same floofy bangs with that specific hair line.

And when Marcy was little, Marcy appeared to need a hair tie because her hair was growing out, and it looked like this.

If we consider that what Marcy’s hair tie is holding up might be her bangs — bangs that might cover her eyesight from how floofy it is — then if you removed the hair tie then she and the woman would have a very similar looking design hair-wise.

Even with these hair similarities, however, there is still inquiry as to why Marcy is vastly different compared to her mother when it comes to skin and hair color, and here is where I go into some speculation to piece all of it together:

Marcy actually carries the appearance of her dad more than her mom.

Her dad has olive skin and black, straight hair, while her mother harbors tan skin and floofy, brown hair.

It’s this one piece of speculation that basically slides everything into place, but regardless it’s still speculation and one that I cannot confirm or even argue much about due to the nature of genetics and the limited info we have. But with this piece set in place, we could start to create the argument that maybe, just maybe, these characters are related.

But if they are, why do we only see Marcy’s mom and her supposed sister and not her dad?

Why do we get no indication of Marcy having a sister until Season Three?

How do we put all of this together?

Section Three - Distance and Finance

I rewatched True Colors numerous times when it came to understanding and interpreting what I could with the limited Marcy-centric flashback we had. I even went through episodes such as Maddie and Marcy, New Wartwood, and a lot of other episodes just to fit everything into place. And I think I have a good indication as to why this family is the way that it is.

First off, we’re going to be talking about Marcy’s dad and his new job out of state.

California is a very expensive state. And as someone who lives in California, the housing crisis and the ability to even stay in a house/dorm without sweating over the idea of being bankrupt is a very real thing.

So it is a curious thing that one of the reasons that the Wus had to leave came out to moving out-of-state due to a new job offer, one that infers a lot more money and probably a more stable living environment.

You could even hear the dad saying “Marcy, you have to understand!” when Marcy runs out, meaning that there’s probably a good reason as to why the parents believe that the move is essential, and I am banking on the idea of money for a number of reasons.

One, living in Los Angeles is expensive as hell.

Two, the coping mechanisms Marcy has makes sense if finance is the main comeuppance.

Three, the background art.

And four, why this girl has straight A’s and a PSAT book.

We already covered number one, but let’s take a look at what I mean about coping mechanisms.

Marcy Wu’s many flaws come from what looks to be the fear of being alone, and the fear of being seen as unvaluable and worthless; that if Marcy doesn’t prove herself lovable and essential to the people around her then she gets anxious and will do anything in her powers to make the people around her like her or stay with her.

She will omit information, move along objectives through passive and indirect persuasion, allow people to assert their will over her because they said so and, most importantly, does all of this because she fears the consequences when she gets outed or rocks the boat. Because rocking the boat means people will get mad at her, and she appears to try to avoid that situation of vulnerability like the plague until it all culminated into True Colors.

She is terrified of getting hurt. She is terrified, specifically, of consequences — punishment through stress, frustration, the people she loves looking at her differently because of the mistakes she’s made, etc.

Why do I say this? It’s because if we look into Marcy Wu with her pre-Amphibia self, a lot of these fears could be placed into that middle school scenario very well. Marcy Wu plays videogames and loves fiction because it is a form of escapism or happiness away from stress; she has this intense curiosity to basically anything of interest and uses that to thrive with getting straight A’s and an overall very solid record, but there’s still a probability that high expectations or making the people around her love her comes through said status of being the smart one (after all, she prides on her intellect, and sees it as essential to basically surviving the day to day).

Look at Marcy’s flashback in True Colors. She’s a middle schooler but is studying for the PSAT, which is mainly held in High School, and I’m no expert but I don’t think you read that stuff for fun or at least study it that early.

And I find it interesting that that’s the first shot we get of Marcy before we dive into her parents’ argument — education, studying, the expectation of high scores.

And then when you remember that Marcy is the least athletic of the girls, the thrift shop’s street she retreats to away from her parents is not that faraway from her neighborhood.

And this street, is messy as all hell. And with the revised background art for this area, nothing about the place changes but instead gets emphasized through more shots of how rundown it all looks!

The fact there’s a bail bonds building behind Mar-mar also doesn’t reassure me in the slightest.

So here’s where we are: Studying, getting good grades, a serious financial situation, lives near a rundown section of the city, high expectations, and the evaluation of one’s worth through intellect and academia.

What we are witnessing is a nuanced family situation. If we go by the assumption that the three girls’ lives are not only vastly different in personality but upbringing, then on an income scale, Anne would be middle income, Sasha would be high income, and Marcy is low income.

Her family’s struggling to be stable in a city that they can’t afford to live in, there’s a very high emphasis on good grades and education in the household, and the situation is so bad that her dad would take the proposal of a higher-paying job out of state than finding a similar job out in the city.

However, in this household’s struggle to have a better life, the parents had to focus on their children getting better living than them, and this means Marcy had to live in an environment where the biggest source of reward and praise is through intellect, academics, the approval of the parents.

And I could probably assume that this focus on finance also lead to very rough patches where Marcy was unable to be encouraged over stuff she loves like C&C or videogames, since the level of attention is low compared to the amount of happiness and pride her parents get when she gets an A+.

Especially when we consider that in the dialogue we hear from Mr. and Mrs. Wu, her dad is more assertive while her mom appears to care but doesn’t seem to go against her husband’s tone, so a lot of the probable issues might’ve come from Marcy wanting her dad’s approval and her mother never standing up for her when he became frustrated.

That would make a lot of context with Andrias even worse in retrospect, because that means the moment a male adult figure decided to care about her and give attention to what she loved, then Marcy fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

And could you blame her?

Now, let’s finally get a glimpse on one other character I’ve been neglecting in this essay.

This gal! Because if Marcy and her are somehow related, then we need to question why she was never mentioned or why she wasn’t involved in the conversation between Marcy and her parents.

I’ve done a massive theory post about this already, but the biggest probability comes in the design itself, since if Marcy’s sister went through trade school to be a mechanic/engineer then there’s a high probability she’s in her mid-Twenties. And if we consider that Marcy is 13, then Marcy would’ve been born when her sister was 12 or 13, and ultimately leave the household when she turned 18.

This means Marcy would’ve gone on with less contact from her sister for 6 years, and that’s a lot for a developing child.

It’s not improbable for Marcy to have lost contact with her big sister, or at least had lesser time to meet up with her due to work, college, or her own adult life now that she’s out of the house.

After all, in Maddie and Marcy, I find it very interesting that out of the advice Marcy could’ve given to Maddie about siblings, Marcy tells her that even though Maddie is the older sibling and is allowed to have her own life she suggests that maybe she should make some time for her sisters occasionally. Almost as if this was a ditto moment for her, that she understands but also had a good example of a sister who made time whenever she had the chance.

On more speculation terms, it would be cute to think that the reason Marcy has so much fire and spirit toward her fiction and love for games is because of her sister. After all, Marcy harbors the same interest toward engineering and robotics, it wouldn’t be a stretch in the imagination that perhaps her sister encouraged her to keep on going with what she felt passionate for regardless of their parents’ lack of response, to basically be unapologetic of what she loves, and this mantra kept her going for a lot of her life even when her sis went for trade school.

But let’s go on a side note here. I find it quite interesting that the character design of Marcy’s sis is also very telling, because not only does it tell a supposed story about who she was in the aftermath of graduation, but we could find a way to also put the theme of income and finance into her story as well.

Let’s be real these two are partners in all the way — from mechanics to engineers to straight up girlfriends, these two basically have their own business going on and I find it interesting that none of them just go with robotics or mechanics as a full-time thing, it’s mainly two jobs rolled up into one.

Why is that? There is some speculation that maybe they’re specialists and work in a very science-related area, but it seems highly likely that their main jobs are being car mechanics by day and robotic expert nerds by night. After all, the city can be hecked with money so I wouldn’t be surprised if they did two jobs at once to keep the lights on. I could also see them doing freelancing to repair or experiment with engineering projects since they take more money than actually makes in most cases.

Overall, money plays a big part with the family, and culminates to what I like to call a Massive Shitfest TM when they get alerted over the girls’ disappearances.

Section Four - Massive Shitfest Boogaloo and Where They Are Now~

In the aftermath of their teleport to Amphibia, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Wus had a big argument over Marcy and what should be done in the aftermath. Really, the family still needs to take that job because of finance, people are blaming each other over who pushed her to the brink, and then you have Marcy’s sister — who was probably out of the loop but probably knows how it was in the household — getting added into the mess of what just happened and adding her grief into the mix.

It is a blunder, terrifying and could break apart a family if I’m being honest. but what comes through is this:

People have now become stubborn in the Wu household, and no one is going to back down.

And what I mean is that Mrs. Wu, devastated by what happened ever since the argument in True Colors, will stay in Los Angeles out of grief and a supposed hope that Marcy would return. While Mr. Wu, determined to keep the finance going and keeping everyone stable and safe, abides by Mrs. Wu and decides to go out of state regardless, bringing back a flow of money to keep the Wu household stable through the aftermath.

It would make sense as to why Marcy’s mom is present in the intro but not any suspecting candidates for the dad.

Or how we see that there’s two older ladies with her in the intro. They might actually be close relatives who moved into the household out of the obligation to comfort Mrs. Wu but to also keep her company throughout this dark time in her life.

After all, when one loses a child, a lot of prior relations start to unravel as the status quo changes, and we are definitely going to see Anne confront the Wus and Waybrights when it comes to upbringing and home life.

But really, it is all up in the air. With Season Three around the corner, I am excited to see what the story has in store for us when it comes to the deep-diving into Marcy’s home life. She might’ve had a nuanced family life. She might’ve had abusive parents, perhaps no sister at all but a lot of relatives who grieved for her.

But with this theory out to the public, thank you all for reading along with this massive beast of a post, and I hope we get to see Marcy out of the aloe vera sauce very soon!

[loveofafangirl]

In the Quiet

[Laszlo Kreizler Masterlist]

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Reader (no gender, race, or body type given)* *reader is an aristocrat who has aspirations of being an artist

Synopsis: You and Laszlo spend a quiet moment together while you reflect on how you met. *Fluff* Meet-Cute*

Word Count: ~1,250

A/N: This is my first time writing Laszlo. I hope you enjoy it!

Your fingers weave through his silky hair, his head resting in your lap as the two of you recline on a picnic blanket. The soft melody of the babbling brook beside you is amplified by the quiet stillness surrounding you. The warm breeze off of the water tousles your hair and tickles your features. The occasional bird chirps a melody just for the two of you.

You breathe easier away from the city. You know he does as well, even though he thrives in the unruly environment. He needs this break, away from the darkness and melancholy that he lets consume him. Here, he can find peace without distraction. Of course, it wasn't easy. Each small town had its own history, and with it, its own tragic stories to analyze.

Laszlo saw the potential for psychopathy everywhere. His mind raced with ideas of what might be, and more importantly, why. He had a thirst for knowledge and understanding, unlike anyone you had ever known—one that could not easily be quenched. There was always more: more to learn, more to observe, more to understand.

You found that Laszlo appreciated the subtle details often overlooked by others. You were the same in that way. It was what had brought you together—the details—just, not the same ones. Where he saw despair and pain, you saw the possibility of hope and promise.

"What do you see?" His confident voice questions behind you.

Your body tenses at the intrusion. You were so focused on your work you hadn't noticed his appearance.

"Sir?" Your gaze settles on the curious man, now standing beside you. You observe how his hands rest casually on his walking stick before him, but his focus is not on you, rather your subject.

"Please, pray tell me if you would, what is it that you observe." He gestures to the woman on the bench across the path that you had been drawing.

You run your charcoal-covered fingers nervously over the cloth you had beside you. His polished appearance reminded you how your current state reflected poorly on your status. It was why you had come to this park, away from the aristocracy uptown, away from those that told you art was a skill to possess but not suitable for more than a mere hobby to entertain and impress those of importance.

Your already straight spine lengthens as you attempt to reclaim your station. Your gaze shifts between the woman and your canvas. "I see loss."

"Very astute." He interrupts the rest of your thoughts. "I observe the same. I surmise the young woman has suffered a great deal. The loss of a child, perchance."

"A husband," you correct, quite confidently. The look on his face tells you he is not used to being challenged. You turn your drawing toward him, pointing out the simple metal ring the woman held in her hand. It was no longer visible at present, but you had captured it earlier as she turned it between her fingers.

"You have a tremendous eye for detail." He offers with a raise of his brow and a simple nod, impressed with your deduction. "May I?"

He takes the seat beside you, and you hand him your portrait. He carefully accepts it and studies it more closely. His gaze shifts between the drawing and the subject, "It is very good. Howbeit, might I still offer a suggestion?"

"If you wish." You nod anxiously, your fingers twisting the cloth in your hands. You knew accepting feedback from strangers was something you would have to learn to endure if you wanted to show your work at a gallery one day. You just hadn't expected it so soon.

He hands the portrait back to you. "The eyes—they're not quite correct."

The corners of your lip pull up, certain you had been careful in your interpretation. "They are," you insist. "Or, they will be."

His lips press together, and his head shifts to the sides in contemplation, not quite understanding your meaning.

"Life is filled with consequences: some good, many bad." You grab a stick of charcoal and continue sketching. You no longer felt unsettled by his presence; in fact, you felt a boost in your confidence. He seemed genuinely interested in how you perceived the world. You did not feel any judgment on his part for your enjoyment of this work. "This woman may have suffered, yet she presses on. She sits in the quiet here instead of satisfying her pain in weeping or, perhaps, indulging in less savory means. She has hope. I saw just a glimmer of it earlier as the scent of the blossoms in the breeze caught her attention, pulling her momentarily from the melancholy. Although finite, the spark will grow until she is whole. That is what I chose to capture."

"The loss of another—a paramour—is not so easily overcome." His voice is more distant now, heavier. You sense he speaks from experience.

"Nothing worthwhile is easy, good Sir. However, in time, perspectives can change as long as one holds onto hope."

"Perhaps."

The soft sounds of your charcoal etching across the canvas fill the comfortable quiet that settles between the two of you.

Your fingers brush the strands of chocolate hair off of his forehead, as you press your soft lips to his skin. You could never have imagined how that chance meeting would change your life. You chew your lower lip as you pull away.

His warm brown eyes meet yours. His mouth opens to speak but closes, leaving only a warm smile in reply to your touch.

You scratch lightly over his lush beard, savoring the coarse texture against the pads of your fingertips. Your own smile spreads as your gazes lock together.

This was good for him. He needed this break in the country as much as you did. It had become somewhat of a retreat for you. Your family was not thrilled with your choice of partner. Despite his status and education, as an Alienist, he was considered a less than ideal match. Your parents had even offered to support your wild pursuits to become an artist to dissuade your interest in him, but it was too late. Neither of you cared much what others thought about your pairing. The world was changing, and so were you. You and Laszlo would press forward carving a path that fit your ideals, not that of the masses.

The two of you needed each other more than you could have realized. You needed his understanding, disregard for conventions, and the way he challenged you in ways society could not. He needed your kindness, generosity, but most of all, light.

The details had brought you together, but it was in these quiet moments when the two of you could just be that your love blossomed. It was where your relationship developed and spoke louder than words ever could.

Laszlo captures your hand in his good one and brings it to his lips, brushing feathery kisses on your skin. Your eyes close, relishing his tender affection. It wasn't often you had him all to yourself, so you treasured moments like this.

Your free hand continues stroking gently through his hair, letting him rest in your care. The glow of the sun bathes you in its warmth as the gentle breeze wraps you in its comfort. You stay nestled together, just the two of you, in the quiet, letting your adoration speak for itself.

A/N#2: Thank you so much for reading! I'm not sure how often I will write Kreizler, but if you liked this and are interested in more, please like, comment, and/or reblog. I truly appreciate every interaction. Also, if you'd like to be tagged in future fics, let me know.

[lucky-dreamfisher]

The Illusion of Living Notes and Spoilers

I feel like enough time has passed for everyone who wanted to get the audiobook to get it, so here are all the notes I made while reading the book.

Please do NOT show these spoilers to anyone who didn’t give their explicit permission to be spoiled! And do not try to sneaky-spoil while being vague and pretending you’re not spoiling either!

TIOL was written in 1941 and published in 1942

Joey’s biggest dream is to become a God

Joey is explicitly not straight (reaffirms his distaste for dating women multiple times in the book, purposely avoids intimate gestures when meeting female friends, and reacts negatively to a straight couple kissing in his presence) but can be interpreted as either gay or asexual, and there’s evidence supporting both of these interpretations

Joey doesn’t think of people as real. He thinks of them as fictional characters in a show (well, he isn’t wrong)

He witnessed a murder at 10, but isn’t bothered by it, because everyone’s fictional anyway (watsonian perspective: little sociopath, doylist perspective: smartest character in the franchise). It was on that day that he started thinking of people as characters in a play, including his own parents.

He likes to throw peanuts in the faces of vaudeville performers he doesn’t like. Very proud of his aim

Joey’s dad sends him a pair of boots every year as a gift. Joey throws them out and buys himself better ones

Though it’s implied that the stories he tells about his parents aren’t true

While in the army, he was bullied for liking girl stuff, like reading romance novels and genre fiction

Nathan and Joey are very close. Nathan often gives him business advice and knows some of his secrets. Nathan looks down on artistic-type people. Joey is the only artistic-type person he admires, mostly for being business-oriented. Nathan is all about money.

Nathan wears a suit, has perfectly slicked back hair, and an elegant mustache. Smokes Cigars. Calls himself Nate

Nathan says that Lottie (the girl from the preview) isn’t real. It’s implied that there are more made-up people in the book. The epilogue implies that Joey intends to bring the made-up people to life one day, just like the cartoons

After leaving the army, and before starting an animation studio, he worked at a bookstore together with Henry for a few years

He took late-night art classes together with Miss Lambert

Bendy was named after Joey’s friend, who murdered a man to take a photo of his dying face for an award show. Joey finds it inspiring. In his words: "Thank god for dark paths, they lead all great artists to their greatest creations". Joey also likes the name Bendy, because it means someone who bends the rules

Nathan says that Joey had a genuine change of heart in his old age, and had “too much guilt and worry”. Nathan is not pleased with that

Abby Lambert is one of Joey’s oldest friends, and the one who introduced him to Henry. She and Joey used to perform vaudeville acts together. Joey played a Devil and Abby played an Angel

It’s implied that Henry created the Butcher Gang, and they were some of his oldest characters, even older than Bendy, Boris, and Alice

Henry left a year after the studio’s creation because he wanted “something that isn’t Bendy” (it’s either that he felt like his creativity was being stifled by being forced to work on the same project all the time, or that he wanted a real family, as opposed to the “studio family” that Joey was satisfied with)

Joey disses Henry a lot in the book. He paints him as untalented, unimaginative, boring, and a poor dresser on top of that. Nathan thinks that pretending to not care about Henry is Joey’s “greatest illusion”

Nathan hates Henry and thinks that Joey’s going too easy on him (if BATDR is Nathan’s world, Henry’s gonna be screwed)

Sammy used to play music at a movie theatre when he was a teen and Joey came to watch his performance every day

They met again a few years later and Sammy recognized him. Joey hired him and Jack on the same day

Sammy smokes

Sammy and Jack performed jazz songs at vaudeville together for some time before working at JDS

Jack gets upset when people ignore him and only pay attention to Sammy. He loves being the center of attention, and has a knack for showmanship. Very optimistic and good natured

Sammy was hired a year after Henry’s departure and has never met him (curious, given that he recognizes Henry in the game) Not true - turns out Sammy was hired in October 1930, so he still could’ve met Henry

As part of his deal with Joey, Sammy has full creative control over his department and people he’s working with (did Sammy replace Susie?)

Sammy hates being at the center of attention and is always very serious. Making jokes comes hard for him, but he plays along sometimes. His expression is very hard to read and he always seems suspicious of people he’s talking with. He’s dressed very neatly and appropriately (unlike Jack, who wears bright and flashy clothes), his hair is long and not slicked back. He’s a few years younger than Joey, but acts much older

Joey thinks that Sammy is his best decision and the man who comes closest to fully understanding him. He takes pride in the fact that Sammy sticks by him for all these years out of his own will, and not because Joey makes him. He thinks Sammy is a genius and deserves to be worshipped like a god (he doesn’t hesitate to tell him that). Asked him once whether there’s anyone Sammy worships, and it’s painfully obvious that he wanted to hear that it’s him (Sammy replied that a god of this magnitude hasn’t been invented yet, which is a nice foreshadowing) 

Allison is already working at the studio at the time of TIOL. Before that, she was a Broadway actress. Joey likes to watch her recording sessions. It’s not confirmed which character she’s voicing, but Susie wasn’t mentioned anywhere in the book, so there’s a possibility that Allison was already voicing Alice Angel in 1941

Joey’s meetings with Jack Fain and Grant are just an excuse to have a coffee and chat with them

On his first meeting with Bertrum Joey got drunk and flirty with him. Bertrum told him he’s “not that kind of date” and Joey played dumb (the scene is played for laughs though, so idk if it’s supposed to be seriosuly indicative of Joey’s sexuality)

Bertrum returned from retirement to work on Bendyland

Disney exists in this universe, Joey wishes he could be able to achieve the same with Bendy

Nathan wants to prove “very soon” that he is limitless

The moving ink was developed as part of the Sillyvision film process at some point around 1941. The purpose of Sillyvision was to make corrections to images that have already been created, without having to redraw them from scratch. The ink is activated through contact with a special paper

Joey describes Bendyland’s conception, and the Dark Land sounds eerily similar to the studio world in BATIM & BATDR

Light Land is Alice’s Domain, and as the name suggests it will have many lights. It’s designed to create an illusion of being lifted up

Tiny Land is Boris’ Domain and it gives an illusion of getting shrunk

Big Land is Butcher Gang’s Domain and has giant airplanes and battleships

Joey hates the real world and wants to escape to a make-believe one. He was hoping Bendyland would be that for him. His greatest fear is being unable to create that perfect world, and creating only its dark reflection (ironic)

Joey feels like he won’t be able to truly die and rest his soul until his dream fully comes to life. He calls art his “doorway into immortality” (is Dapper Joey?)

Joey believes a soul is needed to make a lifeless artistic imitation of the world into a real breathing world. He says that he’s been looking for a soul for a long time (he means it metaphorically, but it feels like a foreshadowing)

[mrsgiovanna]

Unhinged - Don Giorno x Fem! Reader

A misunderstanding causes the reader a whole lot of distress. Blame it on the stress of planning your wedding to the Golden dreamboat or his shifty behavioral cues. Needless to say this occurs many years after the events of Vento Aureo. Some mild angst, some fluff, some mild nsfw- a mixed bag that nobody asked for really, unashamedly self indulgent 🥺💭💖

You always judged those unhinged girls. You know the type, the ones who would steal their partners phones and “run into them” at very convenient times. Pathetic, you’d always think, so you could not understand how, in heaven’s name, you found yourself sitting in your car across from your favorite Café, spying on your fiancé. You were thankful for the oversized sunglasses that hid most of your face as you stole a glance at yourself in the rear view mirror. You can’t imagine what your eyes might look like at this point.

It all started a week ago… Giorno was an extremely busy man, you of all people knew that best. He always made time for you though, however, the closer it got to your wedding, the less you saw of him. You were busy yourself, so you didn’t really have much time to yearn for his company, but the coldness of your bed was always a reminder that someone very important was supposed to be occupying that space. It wasn’t just the scarcity of your lover that had set off alarms in your mind, it was more his odd behavior. He was so secretive these days, keeping conversations shorter than they needed to be, hiding his devices from you when he received texts, discarding every scrap of paper from his pockets before properly greeting you when he did manage to come home in the daylight. Each time you questioned his behavior he just sweetly smiled and replied that everything was alright.

And so continued this mistimed waltz on eggshells until that fateful morning. A swirl of emotions bubbled up in your chest suffocating you when you found some kind of broken jewel clinging to Giorno’s suit. You couldn’t really make out what it might have been part of, or what lewd activities managed to dislodge it from its original owner and onto him, but for the first time in the years you have been together, you were suddenly unsure of whether you could spend your life with this man. Did you even know him at all?

The walls of the villa never felt so restrictive before, you needed to get out, clear your mind, perhaps even get another perspective. You could just be overreacting as you know you are inclined to do sometimes. Giorno was still in the shower, you contemplated letting him know that you were going out, but decided to just go. He can stew a little, get a taste of your personal hell for just a few hours. Hurriedly throwing on the outfit you laid out, you grab your keys and headed off to your favorite coffee shop, calling Trish while you were on your way there, asking her to meet you. The two of you had grown closer over the years and right now you needed a friend who would give you sound advice without sugarcoating the facts.

Giorno had sauntered out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, his upper body still glistening from the shower with his wet hair cascading down his back. He expected to find you there just doing your hair or putting on your mascara, he loved watching you get ready. It gave him a chance to fully admire you, making him feel proud, bordering on arrogant, that you were his and only he got to see all the different sides there were to your beauty. He knew he was being distant with you but he had his reasons for being so preoccupied. Walking towards the nightstand to check his phone, he sees the jacket he wore yesterday on the floor with the little jewel still hooked onto the fibers of the expensive fabric. Throwing his head back in resignation, he called Trish, already aware of what you might be thinking, and knowing that she’s usually the first person you’d turn to when you needed to chat.

“Hi Trish, do you have a second to chat? I’ll make it quick,” he starts off, putting the call on speaker so he can get dressed for the day.

“Giorno, what did you do? She already called me in a state, I’m on my way to meet her for coffee as we speak,”

“Okay look, I can explain everything, just know that I’m not being unfaithful,”

“How did this escalate so fast? Why are you giving her reasons to jump to these conclusions so close to the wedding? You better not be messing around,”

Giorno could hear the suspicion that edged Trish’s voice, so he explained everything and begged her to calm you down while he tended to a few issues.

You felt your shoulders relax as the tension melted away after pouring your heart out to Trish. After speaking to her it dawned on you that coming out and asking Giorno would be better than letting this outlandish scenario fester in your mind. After giving you the pep talk you needed Trish left to get on with her day while you stayed to organize yours. Sipping the last bit of your mocha Frappe, you darted towards your car when suddenly your attention was caught by a flash of gold and a flourish of a deep cerulean blue coat entering the Café. Certain that your eyes were playing tricks on you, you blinked a few times, but it was as clear as the blue sky above you, Giorno had arrived there with another woman. Hastily getting into your car, you sank into the soft leather seat and fished out your oversized Chanel sunglasses to conceal your presence as much as possible in the off chance he looked in your direction, although chances of that seemed very slim given how engrossed he was in their conversation.

Oh you hated every painful second of this, all the tension and anger that you’d let go of, found you all at once, marring your otherwise beautiful features.

You watched as he pulled out her chair and sat across from her, smiling that charming smile that could disarm a terrorist. He barely looked away from her, you wished he would see you, wondering what kind of explanation he’d conjure up. You contemplated going back inside to confront them, but you didn’t trust your emotions, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You wouldn’t dare give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry… and so you watched, preparing yourself for what you may or may not see, however your resolve shattered when you saw Giorno pull out a little black box and slide it across the table towards her. She beamed as she opened it examining the contents without taking it out… was it a replacement for that trinket that you found? He always did have impeccable taste, you had always thought it was reserved for you though. Unable to watch any longer, you started the car and sped off, not wanting to go home, but having no motivation to go anywhere else, you just drove aimlessly for a while.

“Oh Mr Giovanna, these are perfect, they’re exactly what I needed to complete her bracelet, I’m sure your fiancé is going to love it!” exclaimed the lady sitting opposite your lover.

“Please, call me Giorno. I would hope so, it’s more sentimental than anything else, I’m just astounded that you were able to recreate the intricacies of the original design. Your talent knows no bounds,”

“Ah, like any artist, I’m always intrigued by beauty and mystery. How were you able to get a this many dainty gems at this short notice?”

“I have my network, I’m just glad you can complete it now, I can’t wait to give it to her,”

“Well you won’t have to wait too long, I should have this ready by the close of business today,”

“I won’t keep you any longer then, thanks once again for handling my request,” said Giorno with an extended hand as he stood up to leave.

It was a mission to try and recreate your mother’s heirloom bracelet from a faded, wrinkled picture, but he was determined to give you something special, that would make you feel closer to her as well. Your lineage was a mystery, your father unknown, so when your mother arrived in Italy it was one of the few valuables she had had on her person. She did everything she could to provide for you when you were little, but she unfortunately had succumbed to her circumstances leaving you to fend for yourself in an unforgiving world. His heart clenched when you recounted stories of your childhood, which somewhat mirrored his own. You never complained though, he could see your heart ached when you thought of her, and all the things she would have helped you with especially now. Still, the way you concealed your heartache with a trained smile, would always make him wonder how such strength could be contained by something so angelically beautiful. Drawn out of his reverie of you, Giorno had arrived at his destination and continued with his day until it was time to collect your present and head home.

By the time you had finally found yourself at your driveway, you were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to bury yourself in a cave and hibernate until everything was over. How arrogant of you to assume this would last when every good thing in your life came to an end. Dragging your wary body up the stairs, you buried yourself under the soft comforter, shutting your eyes with the hope that it would all have been a dream by the time you resurface.

When Giorno finally made it home, the first thing he did was seek you out. Usually you’d be quietly nestled on the couch reading or working on something, or you’d be tinkering in the kitchen making some sort of delicious treat, both as a means to relax and indulge your shared sweet tooth. But you couldn’t be found in either of those places. He found you huddled on the bed you both shared, looking so fragile as you slept in a fetal position. He didn’t want to disturb you but he couldn’t help gently brushing your hair off your face, which unfortunately resulted in you waking up.

“Gio, I didn’t expect you back this early…” you murmured, still waiting for your eyes to adjust to the light. The events of today came flooding back to you and you resolved to just come straight out and confront him. Noticing the change in your demeanor, Giorno sat next to you on the edge of the bed, while he loosened his top shirt button and took off his tie.

“Giogio, I don’t know how to put this delicately, so I’m just going to say it… you’ve been acting so different lately, always so secretive, hiding things from me, and this morning I found remnants of some jewelry that didn’t belong to me on your clothes… and probably the worst thing of all is that I saw you with someone while I was out this morning. You both looked very comfortable with each other, and… I… who is she?” you rambled on, your voice barely louder than a whisper. This wasn’t playing out how you had imagined it, with most of the fight being forced out of your body by melancholy. Seeing the evidence of your anguish in your eyes, Giorno reached out to cup your cheek, you mentally chastised yourself for automatically melting into his touch.

“Ah my sweet principessa, I love you, only you, I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you or break that trust. The lady you saw me with is a jewelry designer, I commissioned something very special for you, so we just met so I could give her the materials to complete it… I wanted to give it to later at dinner tonight, but you’re in no condition to go out, so let’s stay in, okay?” he explained as he pulled out a box from his breast pocket and settled down next to you. “Go on, open it,”

You gingerly take the box, opening it slowly, curiosity and embarrassment fighting against each other in your mind.

“Gio, how did you manage to find it after all these years? I thought it would have been melted down and broken up completely.”

You simply couldn’t believe your eyes, it broke your heart when you sold off the bracelet to pay off her debts after she passed, it killed your spirit entirely when you were told it wasn’t enough to cover what she’d owed. That’s how you found yourself in Passione, working as one of Bucciarati’s underlings.

“Well, unfortunately I couldn’t find the exact piece bella, trust me, I tried. You’re probably correct in saying that it was taken apart, so I had this recreated to its exact specifications. I hope you like it,”

Giorno’s voice was so tender, as was his expression. Tears clouded your vision, it was the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for you, you were at a complete loss for words.

“Gio… Tesoro, I don’t know what to say, thank you doesn’t seem like nearly enough. And I’m so sorry I ever doubted you, I feel like such an idiot, that’s probably because I am one. How can I make it up to you? I totally understand if you’re too upset to talk to…” your rambling was cut off by Giorno’s lips gently pressing against your own. His hand softly grasped the back of your head, slightly tilting your face upwards to deepen the kiss.

“That was thanks enough amore mio, I love you,”

“Ti amo con tutto il mio cuore,” you reply, while trying to hide your embarrassment by nestling your face in the crook of Giorno’s neck.

“Molto bene, your Italian is improving bella, I’m proud of you.”

Giorno snaps the sparkly trinket onto your wrist and admires how your eyes light up when you look at it. The glimmer of his eyes in the soft lighting of the room awakened a yearning within you. Giving in to the feeling, you kiss Giorno’s collarbone, earning a hum of approval from him, as you softly trailed kisses up his neck and onto his jaw, finally settling on his lips. You felt him smiling into the kiss, he ran his tongue across your bottom lip asking for entry, to which you willingly obliged as your hands toyed with his braid, undoing it completely. His hands ran up and down your body, worshipping the dips and curves he adored so much. Breaking away from the kiss for a moment, he looked down at you, eyes darkened with lust, hands hovering over the buttons of your shirt asking for permission to disrobe you, which you granted with a small nod. He was so gorgeous, so strong and he exuded such charisma that you found yourself submitting to his every request, spoken or otherwise, lapping up every bit of praise he afforded you as you took him in his entirety. Once, twice, you had lost count of how many times you both peaked.

At some point in the night you had woken up ensconced in the warm embrace of your sleeping lover, finally being able to form a coherent thought, you promised yourself to never baselessly doubt his love for you ever again. With that you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to fall asleep again, feeling completely safe, content and loved.

[theelvenhaven]

Feanor’s Daughter

I’ve had several people encourage me that I take Fëanor’s Daughter a step further and outside of just a readers perspective and go ahead and make her an OC.

If y’all have any questions about her I’m happy to have a discussion about her 💖

So I present to you  Vanifinwë (q. Beautiful Finwe). It’s her Ataresse q. Father Name. I guarantee you that Fëanor would ABSOLUTELY keep Finwë in his daughters name.

Anamartindë (q. Long Fate). Her Amilisse q. Mother Name, it was given to her not long after she was born as Nerdanel had a vision of her. Though she never told anyone what it was about, and Feanor begrudgingly relinquished to his equally as stubborn wife about why she chose it. Though Vanifinwë would eventually understand the meaning of her name.

Failendis (q. Fair Minded/Just/Generous) Her Epesse q. After Name, given to her by not only by her brothers, but those around her who got to know her. Happily she adopted it, though Vanifinwë was her Cilmesse q. Chosen Name

Though when she arrived in Middle Earth she stuck with the Sinda version of Failendis which would be Faeleth (s. Just/Generous One).

* * * Things About Vanifinwë and Coming to Middle Earth* * * 

1. She is the youngest and completely unplanned and unexpected Feanorian, and was born unusually close to Amrod and Amras. So they all three grew up together.

2. Vanifinwë idolized her amille and out does Makalaure in being most tempered like her. Though she does have an explosive temper, it just takes a lot to push her there.

- She’s a renaissance elf when it comes to the arts, always doing what Nerdanel or Makalaure were doing. So she has a broad range of artistic abilities.

- Nerdanel highly encouraged her natural abilities in the arts, as did Makalaurë. The two taking the time to tutor her diligently when she showed interest.

3. Like her parents, she has an incredible will and is very stubborn. She’s not unreasonable unless she see’s that there’s an injustice happening, no matter how minute it seems to someone else. Vanifinwë takes them very seriously.

4. It is how she got Failendis as her epesse, as she was constantly mediating all the brotherly bickering and arguments. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t any of her business, she very stubbornly made it her business.

- Even when she was a little elfling, she’d butt in and tell everyone to stop or point out who was being unfair.

- Much to Tyelkormo’s and Curufinwe’s distaste despite their good relationship, it was utterly annoying as she got older, when she caught wind of them antagonizing Carnistir.

- Tyelperinquar was her closest companion even despite being so close in age with Ambarussa. Even as she got older she had a close bond with him, the two spending lots of time together.

- Each of her brother’s spent copious amounts of time with her to build a strong bond and relationship with her.

- Her closest relationships with her brothers were with Maedhros, Maglor and Caranthir.

5. When Feanor and her brothers first went to Formenos, she stayed behind with Nerdanel for a considerable amount of time before rejoining them there. Nerdanel seemed saddened, but didn’t argue nor discourage her. 

- While there she saw the severity of the state her father was in, and the tension that he seemed to wear constantly.

- Vanifinwë had been in the Fortress with Finwe when he had been killed, and was the first to find him after hearing all the commotion.

6. When her father made the oath, and her brothers took it up- they all heavily anticipated for Vanifinwë to take up the oath too.

- Considering she saw what Melkor had done to their grandfather, and what they had stolen and the further division he had caused. Yet she didn’t take it and refused to take it. 

- This was heavily disliked between her brothers and father alike and Feanor very harshly voiced this to her.

- Fëanor heavily came to the verge of disowning her, and told her to her face. Considering this was his daughter and viewed her just as capable as her brothers. 

- That almost made her take the oath, but she stuck her ground even if it stung badly.

- Those words also had tasted a little too bitter for Fëanor’s taste and he left it all up in the air. Never clarifying further whether he had decided too or not.

- Though Vanifinwë took his inability to push things further as him fully disowning her. It devastated her.

- Vanifinwë almost got the twins to reconsider for Nerdanel’s sake, almost. But Feanor was too adamant and managed to keep a hold over them. 

- She decided at that point if her brothers were going to leave, that she was going to follow too as she wanted to be able to make sure she could help. 

- Fëanor absolutely denied her from following them, straight up telling her if she’d betray him then she had no purpose following.

- Vanifinwë followed anyways, though she joined the host of Fingolfin.

7. When the kinslaying took place, it was Fingolfin that kept her from reacting against her father as he demanded the ships from the Teleri.

- She also didn’t participate at all in the kinslaying, only watching much to her horror how easily her family slaughtered innocent people.

- It was a defining moment that permanently changed her view on her father, and for a time her feelings wavered for her brothers.

- The thing that further set things in stone for the change in heart of her father was when he stranded them in Valinor, and left them no choice but to cross the Helcaraxë.

8. Vanifinwë stuck very close with her cousins and uncle through the duration of the crossing and rarely spoke.

- With as long as it took to cross it gave her plenty of time to fester about her feelings for her father and brothers actions.

- In the rare time she spoke, it was to Fingon about what had happened. Fingon swayed her to at least reconsider her feelings about her brothers, though he validated her feelings about her father.

- Other times she spoke was when she’d speak with Fingolfin apologizing for what her family had done. But Fingolfin only explained she wasn’t responsible for her siblings and fathers actions.

- Though she’d clam up when Fingolfin would ask how it was she felt, the wounds of everything that transpired running too deep and too fresh.

9. When they arrived in Middle Earth and she was reunited with her siblings things were naturally not very warm, even despite their surprise and excitement to see her.

- It was Vanifinwë that kept things so cold, as she knew didn’t know what to expect from her brothers. Whether they’d be made or sad or happy, but even at their happiness she didn’t fall back into the familial groove.

- When they told her Fëanor had died, Vanifinwë didn’t shed a tear nor did she mourn her fathers loss.

- She felt it only fitting for all the chaos and destruction he caused over some gems. Much to her brothers dismay she openly voiced this.

- This very much surprised her brothers, as they had mourned the loss of their father, they had thought she’d do the same.

- But when they told her how Maedhros had been captured by Melkor and they hadn’t seen him since, Vanifinwë wept for him.

- They told her how Amrod has passed in the burning of the ships at Losgar, she flipped into a verbal rage against them. Completely losing her temper against them. Most took her tongue lashing in silence.

- It was Celebrimbor and Maglor who finally got her to calm down and manage to keep Curufin and Caranthir from rebutting angrily in return. Curufin being on edge already for her lack of mourning for Fëanor.

- Once she was calm enough it was then they told her about how Thingol had banned Quenyan, and that she must choose a Sindarin version of her names.

- For a considerable time Vanifinwë went nameless mulling it over, though she told her siblings she refused to use her father name- much to Curufins displeasure.

- It was Maglor who helped her, and merely accepted that she wanted to go by her Epesse mainly. Both drawing to Faeleth.

* * * 

Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @icarus-fell-in-spring @allinwonderlands @red-riding @eluriel-undomiel

A/N: I made her on ArtBreeder, then sent her through a couple editing apps to get the freckles and her hair dark enough.

[inchandescence]

To Anon

Question:  Yeolmaes hate baekhyun mostly because his stans are the ones sending most hate to chanyeol and baekhyun never said anything about it, instead he kinda validated their feelings by not showing up to the box premiere, avoiding mentioning him at all costs and straight up saying he doesnt like musical movies Understand that yeolmaes have to deal with hundreds of hate messages written in Korean everyday and they are at a breaking point considering most of them come from bbh’s own fans How is it possible to like chanyeol and baekhyun at the same time in a situation like this? Do you even take chanyeol feelings into consideration? No? Not even once? He has to deal with thousands of nasty comments coming from bbh fanbase while bbh comes on Twitter reminding them how cute they are and how much he loves them If you cbkists choose to ignore this and baekhyun is actually in a relationship with Pcy it just means that you all couldn’t give less of a shit about chanyeol as a person with feelings and are just a bunch of selfish pricks

Answer: Anon...sighs you can't see something from one point of view only really, but it's okay i get you, ok so let us talk about this one by one: 1. You said: Yeolmaes hate baekhyun the most because his stans are the ones sending most hate to chanyeol and baekhyun never say anything about it -When you perceive the assumption that baekhyun stans hate chanyeol the most, did u believe it right or did u question it, like why its baekhyun stans, if its true then since when they started hating chanyeol, and why do they hate chanyeol, does their reason make sense or its just stupid like how other bbhls who hate other exo members too (for example some bbhls hate jd bcs both are main vocalists and they think jd is stealing bh's spot as a vocalist) -But at the same time, we cant find the exact number that would proof that bbhls are the ones who hate chanyeol the most, we only can see what twitter shows us, and it happened to me too that i see bbhls throw hate to chanyeol the most -But at the same time too, I've been seeing yeolmaes who throw hate at baekhyun too since years ago without me knowing the reason why they do that, and I keep questioning it everytime why yeolmaes suddenly started hating baekhyun so bad, when did it start -AND at the same time too, I've been seeing other exo member stans throwing hate to either baekhyun or chanyeol -But my twitter algorithm is the same as you anon, it shows that bbhls hate chanyeol the most and yeolmaes hate baekhyun the most, so I do often make the assumption that bbhls and yeolmaes are always on each other's throat -But yet again, I don't know who started hating the first time, is it bbhls, is it yeolmaes, and why they did that -This knowledge is unknown to me so based on this, to me the most right way is to think that both sides are wrong because hating is always the worse way to deal with things, the fact that we know is chanyeol and baekhyun are good friends they are always there for each other, usually when ppl see im saying this they will say its fake and its fan service, but people can choose to not see what they dont wanna see, so the easiest proofs to prove that chanyeol and baekhyun are good friends is one chanyeol is the only member in exo that baekhyun wished happy birthday on his instagram, two both of them support each other for candy and 1 billion views by coming to the mv bts, three baekhyun and chanyeol go to vocal lessons together, four chanyeol had taken a photo with all of baekhyun's bucheon friends before so in that photo baekhyun, chanyeol, and baekhyun's bucheon friends (istg if people see these as fan service then it doesnt make sense right?)

Before we go to the next thing, I have this assumption that chanyeol and baekhyun are two members that have the highest popularity in sk, either they are the top 3 or top 4, and my reason is bcs everytime there are individual album/photobook covers sold offline, their individual covers sold out the fastest, everytime, even with nature republic stuffs, ok so there's this possibility that we keep seeing yeolmaes and bbhls on each other's throat everytime bcs well both of them are two of the most popular exo members in SK (i mean even in china, chanyeol and baekhyun are the most popular members with sehun, there's data for this)

2. You said: Baekhyun never say anything about this, he kinda "validated their feelings by not showing up to the box premiere and voiding mentioning him at all costs and straight up saying he doesnt like musical movies"

-First of all, let's look at a bigger picture, is there any idol in the k-industry like ANY IDOL that ever said to their fans "guys don't say that to my member" IS THERE. ANY.? what I know is: there is none, none at all zero zip nothing, and if there's at least one or two idols, then its just one or two idols right -And thats it anon, thats just about it, idols dont have the absolute freedom of speech, they never do, and its hurting them all of them, all they can say is: "I love EXO, I miss EXO members the most, EXO is my home" and most solo stans who see that will just say "its bs" yet solo stans are also asking for proofs that the members relationship are fine -None of these kpop idols ever say anything about hate speech from their fans that are thrown to their friends/bandmates, and this kind of thing happens in every fandom anon, not just chanyeol and baekhyun, it's just how korean entertainment industry is, idols never have the ultimate freedom to say or do anything

3. Not showing up to the box premiere, avoiding mentioning him, saying he doesnt like musical movies -That not showing up to the box premiere really changed the way you think huh anon, yeah I think that event also changed many yeolmaes' perspectives sighs okay, not showing up to the box premiere is like a very open information we can easily see it from one tweet that didnt mention baekhyun name during that event -BUT for other cases "avoid mentioning him" and "saying he doesnt like musical movies" is not a very open information, by this i mean u have to read alllll of the things baekhyun say, look at the trans for all of his vlives/shows/etc, read the whole trans for baekhyun's last vlive before he goes to the military, so u or other yeolmaes after that situation are either trying to "search for baekhyun's act or words that deny fans opinion about how they hate each other" bcs u still "have hope in baekhyun" or "search for baekhyun's act or words that support my perspective about how he hates chanyeol and never defend cy from bbhls" -"Validate their feelings" how? once again, it's just what bbhls think, did baekhyun do and say all of that because well "his motive is to support bbhls that hate chanyeol" and who are you, who are we to say that, are we our bias? can we go inside their minds and goes aha! this is why they do this and that! well no. because once again thats the entertainment industry, the chances for idols to "explain" all of the bad situations esp when its about how their fans act, is very veryyy low, or like the chance is even minus

-We are just fans who watch them on cam, without knowing what's on their mind or what is everything they are going through behind the camera, we know nothing, all of our opinions are just perspective that our mind created that turned into assumptions, we could never know the truth because kpop industry prevents their artist from showing the truths that may "hurt" people, who actually deserve to be hurt, but those people are the "money makers" for the company, it's bad it's toxic it's awful that just bcs they have to "maintain the money makers" idols can never get that freedom -Same goes with baekhyun, gdi we dont know him, we really really dont know him, his mind, his motives and reasons for his actions, who are we to judge him and call him selfish? -But what we know is baekhyun helping to defend chanyeol when that fake rumor was spreading by tweeting the mosquito thing, what we know is baekhyun and chanyeol doing their choreo for DFTF together that was practiced since early 2021 until before they enlist, what we know is baekhyun saying chanyeol he's fine when fans asked on japanese fansign, what we know is them still doing vocal lessons together, going to vocal lesson tgt too on march after the box premiere (bcs chanyeol's hair was grey in the vlog) before they enlist, what we know is baekhyun loving and singing "tomorrow" tgt with chanyeol, so what we know is they keep spending time with each other as bandmates and friends 

"do you ever take chanyeol's feeling into consideration, you all couldnt give less of a shit about chanyeol as person with feelings and are just a bunch of selfish pricks" 1. Baekhyun tweeting that mosquito tweet to defend chanyeol -Responses>> People went: oh he's just defending himself, he's being selfish once again, he doesnt care about chanyeol 2. Baekhyun answering fans question about chanyeol's condition -Responses>> No one translated this after few days OP has translated Original post Jan 29: https://twitter.com/tomo_exo/status/1355177834185064451?s=20 First ever translation on FEB 13 (AND FROM A CBKIST): https://twitter.com/NTH_2705/status/1360626904756228096?s=20 Also this cbkist isnt always active translating, I know her, she's not on Twitter as much as other trans account and she doesnt understand japanese, so she actually found the post on weibo and translated it from chinese thats why it was translated 2 weeks after, but before her? does ANY account translate this? well no. 3. Baekhyun and Chanyeol doing choreo in DFTF tgt -No BTS, no anything from SM, people who hate seeing them tgt can ignore easily, chanbaek stans can only watch the part over and over 4. Baekhyun and Chanyeol practicing their hitting the woah part in just usual mv -Again no one commented about this, except chanbaek stans bcs this is easily ignored 5. Lesson With Baekhyun -Responses>> yeolmaes went "chanyeol don't do this, chanyeol im not watching this, chanyeol what are you doing, i want chanyeol only, oh god why is chanyeol with him again, chanyeol is feeding chanbaekist, his fans (bbhls) gonna come at us again, fuck this im not watching" and bbhls went "the translation is wrong look theyre trying to sabotage bbh" and yeolmaes replied with "good for him haha, ya serves him right for being selfish" and also "why is it always chanyeol who does this kind of thing and never baekhyun? oh right because hes selfish hes sm golden boy he never gonna do this bcs his channel is own by SM" "look he promoted kyoongtube even in the nng" "look SM posted kyoongtube but not NNG u can see whos the mistreated one him"

All of those 5 things I mentioned, even tho some are small things....they got mostly negative responses from yeolmaes and bbhls who are not cbkist dont they? The things that prove chanyeol and baekhyun are always there for each other and they are bandmates, true friends, nothing change between them And yet, what did bbhls and yeolmaes do? Throw negative shits and comments to those things, esp Lesson With Baekhyun, and until now still hate Baekhyun... when Lesson With Baekhyun, is a vlog recorded by Chanyeol alone, he taped his phone in the car, he added Candy MV BTS with Baekhyun calling him "chanyeol ah" and baekhyun smiling while holding the food, a vlog where he praised baekhyun's vocals, prepared playlist for him, sing tomorrow together with him, laughing during their vocal lesson, and just...doing things tgt

And yet people still call it a fanservice? feeding chanbaekist? baekhyun is still selfish? when chanyeol worked hard preparing that vlog, providing it for us, baekhyun and chanyeol practicing their part tgt for DFTF, baekhyun tweeting the mosquito tweet

When Chanyeol and Baekhyun have done so many things together, after the fake rumor, after the box premiere, proving they are still good friends... so do you even take chanyeol's feelings into consideration? oh wait not just feelings, his efforts, his time, him uploading to NNG about him hanging out with Baekhyun, have you ever take that to consideration? or just ignore all those facts because "whatever i still hate baekhyun" 

So two options: 1. Hating and keep hating and telling others selfish because yall hate the fact that baekhyun never do this and that, that yall wanted him to do, but actually we don't know the reason why, we just don't know anything at all, accept assumptions that "baekhyun validated fans feeling" and thats according to you, your mind, your perspective, oh wait... it's all about you? 2. Know and accept and support and love, chanyeol and baekhyun's friendship, because thats what we know, thats what themselves say to us, thats what themselves been doing, accepting the fact that "chanyeol and baekhyun are good friends" and know we are not in the position to turn the friendship into bad relationship bcs what? bcs it comes from chanyeol and baekhyun themselves, not yeolmaes, not bbhls, not even exols, and so be a fan that know chanyeol and baekhyun have good relationship, keep reporting bbhls who said bad things about cy and vice versa, bcs what? we never want chanyeol to see that after lesson with baekhyun, apparently his "fans" still think baekhyun, his best friend and bandmate, is still a selfish person who doesnt care about chanyeol, so chanyeol is happy that we know and appreciate his relationship with baekhyun, with exo members because we care about chanyeol's feelings, because we trust his actions, his words, and we love everything he does, and also we love everyone around chanyeol that he loves

So choose... and last thing, are social media and on cam interactions, are enough to "measure" a group of people's relationships, so if your best friend never post any picture of you on their instagram and never tell stories about you to other people who well, actually are also strangers, living thousand miles away from you and your best friend, then it's okay for those strangers to say that your best friend hates you? avoiding to be affiliated with you? a selfish person? Have people ever think that it's tiring that just because you're a celebrity, you have to show everything, including minds, feelings, emotions, actions, personal reasons, to your fans? For them to be validated? And for them to turn into facts? Well, at least for me, the things I don't know then I don't know, I don't have the right to judge, and the things I know, especially positive things, that came from my own idols, that's what I'm holding on, that's what I support. *extra note: exo members always call us as EXO-Ls, not bbhls, not yeolmaes, not anyone, but EXO-Ls, so when they say they love us, "loved ones" are those who say themselves are EXO-Ls, who loves EXO as 9 members, because that's the fact

Have a good day anon, stay safe and healthy, God bless you, spread love and not hate

[rosyk]

Speak Now

pairing: kim seungmin x reader

genre: fluff, a bit of kissing, light angst, slice of life

warnings: none, mentions of deep kissing (in case you are uncomfortable)

word count: 3.3k

a/n: I’ve been writing another story but it took longer than I thought so I decided to create a oneshot inspired by Taylor Swift’s song, “Speak Now”. I’m hoping you all would like this as well. Have a great time reading!

“How’s my future idol?” I giggled as I took off his coat and placed it on the stand beside the door. 3 days ago was the last time I’ve seen him. We do get to chat and call each other but he was too busy to concentrate. I didn’t want to serve as an obstacle in his dreams so I didn’t want to bother him anymore.

He hugged me from the waist and snuggled near my neck. The hug was warm and loving so I responded by stroking his back with my left hand and caressed his hair with my right. I missed him. His touch, his voice, his warmth, his presence, and just him, no other else.

“mhm” he responded with a coarse voice “It was tiring not to see you by my side. I felt like a part of me was missing. I missed you. You were my strawberries every morning.” He smiled playfully and lazily due to tiredness. I looked at him and furrowed my eyebrows. It took long seconds to look into his eyes.

I tilted my head as if I couldn’t comprehend what he was trying to say and moved away from his arms to the kitchen counter. “Cheesy as always.” I playfully rolled my eyes and he responded with a laugh. I opened the cupboard and placed a cup in the center. “Tell me, when were you this poetic huh?” I beamed teasingly then continued to make him his cup of coffee with strawberries on the side of the cupboard.

“You made me this way. Don’t blame me” he sat by the couch just in front of the kitchen counter as he responded a chuckle without looking at me. He turned on my favorite movie.

I was taken aback by how sweet he’s trying to show me today. They were all little things but it made meaning between us. He does show me his love every day but something seems new. I’ve also seen him holding a box that seemed to look like a ring box. I mean, I don’t want to assume anything yet but since we’ve been dating for several years. Who knows?

I shouldn’t think of this though. I wiped out all my thoughts and placed his coffee on the center table. He smiled genuinely at the strawberries and drank the beverage. "My favorite? You weren’t into romance and dramatic movies though?” I looked at him in question but all he answered was placing my head on his shouldered and cuddled. “Is this what Paris did to you?” I smiled, thinking how I wished this day would stay forever the same. It was a calm day with nothing but love and care in the air. This guy is perfect and loves me perfectly. I love your everything, Kim Seungmin.

Well, not at least after what happened the following day.

I woke up with no puppy by my side. I panicked and all thoughts bombarded my mind. Did he leave once again? Was that all a dream? What if he wasn’t here in the first place? Now that I think of it, it was all too good to be true. I went downstairs quickly trying to find a man until someone called me out.

“What’s the rush? Be careful you’ll trip” Familiar eyes were staring at you worriedly. “Do you have somewhere to go?” There he was. I ran into his arms while he was still trying to process everything that happened.

“I thought it was all a dream” I spoke up and tears began to fall after sudden adrenaline. He comforts me, assuring me he won’t go anywhere and leave me.

[LUNCHTIME]

“I auditioned on London” I bit my lip trying to calm my anxious hands. I could feel his glance piercing straight through me.

The fork clanked as he began to sigh heavily. “I thought we talked about this” He answered coldly with a low harsh voice making me regret everything I did.

“We have lots of benefits if we place up the business in London. There are more sponsorships and a lot more companies would promote and support ours. We could attract more people way before we reach our quota.” I tried to explain hoping he would understand.

“Exactly why it’s too risky!” He showed an exasperated expression “Are you hearing yourself? The more companies we share, the more companies rely upon and look up to us. Once everything fails, it drags even our reputation. The costs would also increase so what could we do if we bring failure and pay for the share between others?!”

I flinched after the sudden yell. I knew he would be angry but this is what we dreamt of ever since the beginning. Is he just forgetting it all? He noticed how scared I was so he tried to lower his voice. He sighed and stayed silent for a few seconds. “I’m just worried..” he tried to lift my chin and look at him in the eye. I couldn’t. Tears were flowing down my face because of the annoyance rushing through my veins.  How awful, he’s too selfish anyway.

I stood up and slammed the table with my hands. I took my dish and moved to the sink. The dish clanked as I was trying to clean it. He nudged my elbow and hugged me from behind. Though, I still ignored him and dried the wet plate.

“I’m sorry, should’ve watched my tone” I grabbed a cup for me to drink but he took it from me.

“Stop. Give it to me” I responded, trying to get the cup. It was a tug of war and none wanted to give up. I was tired, of course, I did. Besides, he wanted it anyway. I pushed the cup straight at him and proceeded to move upstairs. As I stomped my way up, he gripped me hard and looked at me in the eye.

“I’m sorry. Please don’t think I don’t trust you. I just don’t like times when it comes to predicting the future. I’m just thinking for both of us. I’ll consider your idea, okay? Please don’t be like this.” You were apologetic in a second and I know you felt the guilt from your trembling hands. Indeed, I shouldn’t have opened the topic up once again when we’ve settled this for a long time.

“Sorry” I whispered in your ears and tied my hands around your neck. You accepted the hug like there’s no tomorrow. I know how you care for me yet I always mess things up.

[DINNER]

{READERS PERSPECTIVE TO SEUNGMIN}

I’ve been with Seungmin for 4 years. For me, that was quite a long time. But considering our relationship, it seemed like yesterday. The relationship was more one-sided and I was the only one initiating what to do. He never loved risks no matter what. Exactly why he felt like he had no other choice but to accept the proposal.

I quickly shifted my position from the couch and went for the doorbell. You smiled a little and hugged me back. It was sweet… but felt like a goodbye? I must’ve been imagining things so I shrugged it off.

Just as I was about to do my usual routine, preparing you coffee topped with strawberries and cream, you grabbed my wrist and dragged me to the center table.

“Seungmin what are you-“ I was interrupted by a sudden touch on my lips. My eyes grew wide as you grabbed me by the neck to have a deeper taste of mines. Yours tasted bittersweet with a burning passion. Everything filled up my senses with sensation. I gasped as you tried to go deeper. My mind blanked out as my legs felt weak. You took this opportunity to enter your tongue and soar around it. It made me feel things I shouldn’t feel. I was trying to back away because I couldn’t catch up with your pace but you never allowed it. You bit my lip causing me to gasp again and invade my mouth. You made sure to remember all my weak places and placed your hand on my thigh. It gave me goosebumps as I tried to back away. I spoke up but words were muffled. Your hands moved up my stomach then moved down smoothly. It sends shocks rushing through my whole body. I wanted nothing but more of you, but I knew something was wrong.

I proved myself right after tears fell down your pitiful eyes. You were mumbling things but all I heard was “sorry”.

“Did something happen?” I tried to give you the same comfort I needed when I felt down but none of the warmth I tried to make you feel worked. Was your problem that bad?

You hugged me once again and told me to stay. I don’t understand what you meant because I never planned of leaving you.

“There’s this reliable company I could collaborate with. I showed good leadership and skills in managing so I was accepted as someone who would lead their business.” You tried to regain your calm but everything was a mess as you thought. I don’t want you to feel bad and to be honest, I don’t care what happens as long as you’ll remain with me.

“If this is about London once again, I really don’t mind. That isn’t the only dream we have anyway. A part of my dream is for you to reach your goals and be successful. If you take that opportunity, it would make me happy as well.” You looked at me as if that wasn’t the answer you were asking for as I responded.

“I need a partnership with their daughter.”

I blinked my eyes twice trying to understand the big deal about it. Sure I was disappointed and surely would be insecure but if it’s a partnership. Nothing would happen since I trusted you. And yes, trusted.

“I have to marry her to have the same last name”  I broke away from the hug and pushed you away. You were always playful but your eyes looked serious at that moment. I scoffed in disbelief.

“Tell me this isn’t real” my voice cracked as I cried. You tried to pull me into an embrace but I kept pushing you away. “I’m sorry” you repeated that several times.

I know you trusted me but to that point? Selfish. Ignorant. Self-centered. I know you do this to support me and my needs. I know business isn’t much more important but for my dreams to accomplish, you had to do it. Now that I think of it, is this what you meant by stop putting you over my dreams? It had been several weeks ago…. Since the time I saw you home with a red ring box.

The ring wasn’t for me.

[WEEK AFTER]

 “I REALLY HATE THE GUTS OF THAT GIRL! SHE INVITED YOU TO THEIR WEDDING EVEN AFTER KNOWING YOU WERE HIS LOVE” a girl started yelling beside me.

The make-up artist placed my lipstick for the finishing touch and curled my hair into a messy bun. I checked out my phone and saw the tweets of his soon-to-be wife. I hate judging but based on how she tweets every minute and mentions me every time she posts her pics, she is definitely a drag spoiled bitch. Or it could just be me being bitter.

“Voila!” I looked in the mirror and seeing myself was unbelievable.

My make-up was natural but my skin was smoother and he enhanced my best features. My dress was a long simple but flowy lavender dress. I looked pretty in it but I hoped you  were the one who sees this first

“You really know what I like eh?” He smiled in response and turned my chair around.

“Of course, the girl should know what’s in you but never in hers” I chuckled at the remark but the girl complaining at my back was more enjoyable to watch.

“Alicia, she may just forget that additional unnecessary info and will be a good… wife to him” It appeared sadder than I meant so I decided to shut it down. “Nope, no, no, I don’t care” I tried to let them understand I felt the opposite of what they thought.

Unfortunately, I was too transparent. My best friend sighed feeling the burden in her chest. She cared for me and wants what’s best for me.

[CHURCH]

I was supposed to be where people were. At least that’s what it is “supposed” to be. I was lost in a series of rooms inside this big church. It was indeed royal and I know this isn’t the way you liked it. You wanted something grand but not too excessively extravagant.

On my way to the halls, I’ve heard voices of people cursing. As curious as I am, I peeked in the little glass. There was a family dressed in colorful colors. The man was dressed in pastel pink, “matching” with the girl beside her who was yelling at a girl my age. The girl was also dressed in pastel blue. Considering they were this dressed up, they could be the bride’s family. And one word I could describe to them? Snotty as hell.

A girl came out with a gown-shaped like a pastry. It was all white but with thousands of ribbons on it and cape as long as the Netflix series Scorpion. I don’t even know how big that dress was able to fit in between the doorframe. I’m pretty sure you didn’t expect the worst to come but now it just did.

I don’t want to be caught peeking inside a room. They’ll definitely “sue” me for peeking. I asked for the way around and how awkward it was when I wasn’t on the list of people invited. She told me to be there but I wasn’t invited to the event? I totally hate her intentions. She reminds me of that smelly trash can I hated to touch on the porch of my house.

But who was I to enter and see Seungmin? Definitely a no one. Yet I will.

I was hiding in the red big curtains and as unnecessary as the family is, of course, it was enough to cover me up. I heard the orchestra starts to play the tune “Can’t help falling in love”. Not only the orchestra itself seemed like a whole concert, but the way I hear it sounds like a death march.

You were there, forcing a smile. You looked handsome in that tux of yours although I know that isn’t what you wished to wear to a wedding. It was a black, classy-looking suit with a rose on one side. Your hair wasn’t full-on but showed a part of your forehead. You looked good, but it would be better if the bride was me.

The big doors began to open as the “bride in a cake” walks down the water aisle in high heels as if she were a pageant queen. And here I thought she didn’t like to be married to a guy she just met, perhaps I was wrong. I looked at you and knew how you felt at the very moment.

You wished it was me, don’t you?

Every second was a rush. Weddings usually take up a lot of time but this went faster than I hoped. It was the part of the vows. Where they promise to be together until the very end. I imagined it was me. He imagined it was me standing in front of him. But reality never met neither one of our wishes. Was this fate for both of us? Maybe we were meant to be separated. But what happens to me?

I sat in a row in the middle where I can’t be noticed. It’s better to stay low and not cause any ruckus.

I then remembered what my friend said hours ago:

“I don’t fight girls but I could kill one” she jokingly said

“Alicia! you don’t joke about death!”

“Alright, I’m sorry. She just deserves to receive bad events anyway”

“Alicia..”

“Alright, I’ll stop. I’ll stop just like how you’ll stop the wedding that’s going to happen later” she joked once again

 I guess I did take her words literally

“Now or forever hold your peace” I hear the preacher speak in the middle.

There was a moment of silence. Any second wasted would miss an opportunity. My body trembled as anxiety rushed through me. I couldn’t even speak properly in a crowd, what more if it was a legal wedding.

Without thinking much, I stood up with a shaky breath. Horrified looks stared right through me, hitting me with unbelievable disbelief. I cared about how others perceive me. But right now, you were the only one I could see.

Your surprised look made me snap out of my wrongdoings. I felt ashamed and dumb-looking at you. I know you don’t take risks. You don’t dare to drop out of this dreadful event. But for one, even just for one single moment, would you mind trusting me on this one and run away with me?

“I know I’m not the type of girl” I stuttered quite a bit but managed to sort out myself after looking at you with a different bride that isn’t me. “Who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion” I could feel the bride confused as the family felt grumpy and motioned me to sit down.

“But you are not the kind of boy,” I looked at you, and what did I expect anyway? Of course, you’d look at me as if I made the worst decision. I look desperate right in front of you. I am a smart girl but when it comes to you, I felt doing everything just to keep us two together.

“who should be marrying the wrong girl” It seemed impossible and out of place but I wanted you to disagree, don’t say yes but instead run away with me. We’ll meet outside the church at the back door so don’t wait and say a single vow. For once, please hear me out at the exact time they say speak now.

The orchestra was hidden so they had no idea someone sabotaged the wedding. They played an upbeat and joyous song which was supposed to be used for the groom and bride’s last song. My friends were there and even Seungmin’s family. I was surprised but I didn’t care any further.

All I did was stare at your reactions. It was a loud orchestra playing and both sides of the seats started to fight with one another. The bride’s family fought with yours and the same happened to the bridesmaid and my friends. It was a whole mess and I saw the kind of ruckus I didn’t want to happen. As I was lost in thoughts,

“let’s run away now” I heard your whisper as you grabbed my hand and led me outside the church. Everyone was too busy arguing with each other to notice us leave. It rained outside but we still took another step together.

“I didn’t say my vows” You proudly remarked. Truly, even I was proud when you didn’t predict the future just like usual. You got rid of all your thoughts and initiated to take my hand.

I giggled in response as you reached for my lips. Unlike the last one, it was sweeter, reminding or telling me as if you’ll stay by my side no matter what. You’ll be with me until the end of the world and we’ll face obstacles together. And this is exactly why I love you, Kim Seungmin.

 So glad you were around when they said speak now

[ladylee13]

All right, y'all, I've had enough with shitty society. I say we start a cult called "Actual Inclusivity."

Instead of the center of the cult's teachings being some manipulative bullshit, it's literally just love, acceptance, and respect.

We buy some land and start a communal living situation but instead of the money going up to whoever is on top and making them rich, all the money goes toward upkeep and improvement for the whole community. The finances are transparent and available for anyone to see and anyone shown to be corrupt or messing with the money gets kicked out.

We keep a farm to feed everyone. We have high speed wi-fi and some apartments (maybe with communal kitchens, maybe with private ones, idk logistics aren't my strong suit but I wouldn't be the only one running this, so we'd work out the kinks)

Everyone gets to do what they enjoy. Artists make art (and they could do commissions and freelance work and stuff like that to help raise money for the community in addition to art for art's sake), scientists can do their science thing, people who enjoy gardening can tend the farm. Tech people can do tech stuff (idk, I don't do much stem stuff, but we wouldn't be amish, so there'd be upkeep for tech stuff needed, so y'know). Whatever else. Autistic people can spend loads of time focused on their special interests. Non-verbals are not expected to talk. Depressed people or people with anxiety are not expected to work on days when getting out of bed is too difficult. Anyone having a panic attack or PTSD episode while working immediately gets to put down their work, walk away, and come back when they are again capable of giving their work their attention, be that in an hour or not until the next morning. Everyone uses whatever pronouns they prefer, and everyone else uses the appropriate pronouns when addressing or referring to them. If swearing makes someone uncomfortable, people will be expected to respect that and filter their language around them. Everyone gets to love whoever they want with zero societal repercussions. If two people want to get married, they get to. If two people want to live together without getting married, no prob (living together pre-marriage is against my religious beliefs, so I wouldn't do so, but that doesn't mean no one is allowed to. Live according to your own beliefs as long as they don't hurt anyone else. The goal here isn't to make everyone believe same thing or act the same way. It's to respect each other, and hopefully foster more understanding for others and lower discrimination and hate). In that vein, polygamy makes me feel weird, (admittedly, I don't really understand it,) but if some people in a polygamous marriage wanted to join us and were willing to follow the rules, great! Hop in! Let's even have a talk about it. You can help me be more understanding. No one is allowed to force their beliefs into anyone else and if someone feels pressured by someone else, all they have to do is say so and the other person will stop. I've had enlightening and wonderful conversations about religion with people of other religions/also atheists (once even with a drunk atheists and that was great). And all those conversations were great because in no way did they expect me to change my beliefs and vice versa. There was just a sharing of perspectives. And afterward, I felt like I understood them better and they understood me better. And that's what I'm aiming for here.

We can have a few sensory deprivation tanks and weighted blankets available for people with anxiety/PTSD. We can have tons of fidget toys for anyone who needs them to help them focus. We can have anything people need to function their best (I don't know much about what people with neurological disorders that I don't also have need, but whatever they need we'd have). Everything written is also written in braile. There's elevators and ramps in every building. Guide dogs and ESAs are accepted anywhere except in the space of people with animal allergies (Like, the communal areas are regularly cleaned to prevent hair causing allergic reactions and such and there are signs designating pet-free zones). We could maybe have like an animal shelter in a nearby town that anyone can come into to help with and spend time with animals. There would be a prayer room for quiet meditation (with whatever anyone needs for their best prayer environment, like I know Muslims pray toward Mecca and I don't know if there's any ornamentations or anything that they would prefer to have, but if so, it would be there). There'd be a gym to give people access to exercise equipment. There'd be a big old clock tower with bells to indicate prayer times for anyone who needs them. There would be a church building for use by any religious denomination. There'd be regular community activities to give people the chance to have leisurely social interaction and also sometimes exercise in small or large groups, but no one is expected to take part. Everyone with any form of neurodiversity or from any minority group gets to be treated fairly and have their needs accommodated.

No proving you have a disability like you have to to get accommodations from colleges. No one telling you it's all in your head or it's not natural or you should try harder or you just haven't met the right person yet or treating you as being under them for your gender or skin color or anything else you have no control over. Just actual acceptance on every front.

Basically, you'd pretty much be able to live your best life under the principle I learned as a kid: "your agency ends where the next person begins." As long as your actions do not harm anyone, you are free to do as you like.

The rules for living here? Everyone will be expected to contribute however they can (no punching a time clock, but contribute to the best of your ability). There will be no discrimination or hatred toward others. That's pretty much it. It's not that complicated. You will be expected to respect others and they will be expected to respect you. Any crime of any kind would be punished (and I mean things like theft, which I expect would be far less likely to happen given that everyone would have their basic needs fulfilled, and not like things like drug addiction because criminalizing addicts doesn't really prevent people getting addicted and just makes the problem worse.)

I figure the system would be run by committee. Any issues would be put to a vote, and given the size of the group, everyone would get a vote and everyone's vote counts. There would be no one person in charge of the community. Not me, not anyone. Everyone is equally in charge. Issues of things like accusations of discrimination would be handled by a court type situation where a mediator is chosen and both people get to explain what happened (in case of false accusations, which hopefully wouldn't happen, but y'know), and if the problem is based on a misunderstanding or an unchecked or unevaluated privilege, maybe the discussion alone could help the two people work it out, and if not, they get a big meeting with everyone there, and they get a chance to give their side to the group and the group votes on whether or not the accusation is solid and if the accused person will be punished (idk 100% how the punishment would work, but I figure depending on the severity it could be like a first offense would get community service and some kind of lesson in bridging cultural differences or something and a second offense would get something harsher and a third offense would be getting booted from the community. And then something like rape would get an immediate boot.).

Straight/white/cis/NT/any other non-minority people would also be accepted and welcomed so long as they treat everyone there with respect.

And anyone who says or does something homophobic or misogynistic or racist or ableist or anything else along those lines gets first a gentle warning and a chance to re-evaluate their prejudice and if they refuse to check themselves they get kicked out with whatever money they came in with.

I know that no matter what system is in use, there will always be someone ready and willing to find holes and take advantage. So we'd run on a spirit-of-the-law system instead of a letter-of-the-law system, and with everyone getting a say and everyone basing their decisions on that foundation of respect, it would be easier to enforce.

And sure, maybe this is just a fantasy-land-pipe-dream, but come on. How cool would it be? No more forcing our triangle or star or pentagon or splatter-shaped peg asses into circular holes? I don't believe in humanity at large to implement large-scale actual acceptance, but a little mini-society? That seems a little less impossible, right?

This is all spitballing, but the more I think about it, the more I love it. Feel free to add on.

[izlaria]

Someone you like (part 1, updated)

After uploading the first part of my plance fic here, I ended up writing more on that same period of time. It’s not much, but I thought I would add it anyway.

This fic is based on the “Someone you like” animatic by honestlyprettychill. Their work is super bomb, so I ask you guys to go check it out and give the artist some love. With this update, I’m hoping to have wrapped up on the pre-Garrison time period, and I have already started writing Pidge’s pov of their time as students, so you’ll have that to look foward to, if you end up enjoying this fic. My other post has more disclaimers, so you can find it here. This story is also available on AO3.

The part I added comes after the -- that I used as a page break.

Thanks to everyone who has liked and reblogged this verse. Feel free to add comments in the tags or to straight up come talk to me. I love feedback.

Spanish to English translations at the end.

14 and 12 years old

The truth was that Lance went to Space Camp because Veronica could be a little pest. She knew their parents wouldn’t let her go alone and so had enticed her younger brother with the promise of travel and foreign girls and no parental supervision.

Veronica had obviously left out the fact that they were essentially going to school on steroids for a month, smack in the middle of their summer break. Cool as Miami might seem, Lance wasn’t exactly excited for all the extra work the camp would entail.

“No es un acampamiento,” his sister repeated for what felt like the thousandth time. He wasn’t listening anymore. “Tú sabes que el campo de explotación espacial no está muy desenvuelto en Cuba. Si realmente quieres trabajar con eso, entonces simplemente cállate y no insultes a nadie.”

“¿Cuando he insultado a alguien?” he shot back, defensive. Veronica didn’t dignify that with an answer.

As much as Lance might like to think himself very smooth, there were still times when he stumbled over his words, especially in English. More than once he’d meant to pay someone a compliment and had accidentally started an argument of some kind.

Veronica looked impatiently at her watch. “Mira, tengo una reunión con mi orientador. Y tú tienes por lo menos dos artículos para leer para las clases de mañana, ¿por qué no vas a la biblioteca para trabajar un poco? Prometo comprarte una hamburguesa después.”

Lance pouted at her, arms crossed over his chest. “Me debes más que una hamburguesa y lo sabes, Ronie.”

His sister snickered, but it was as much of an acknowledgement as he was going to get. Veronica pressed a quick kiss to his hair, already turning to go into the main building.

“¡Gracias, hermanito! ¡No te arrepentirás!”

In all honesty, Lance wasn’t as irritated as he made Veronica believe. He knew that a summer program in Miami was a really good opportunity, especially if he wanted to get into the Garrison in the following years. It was just difficult.

He was diligent and studious, but not as naturally gifted as some of the other kids. Besides, he hadn’t been to the US in a couple years, since his parents had mostly settled down in the family farm, which meant he still had to fall back into his English, a task made even more frustrating by the xenophobic comments from one of the boys in his AP geometry class.

The teacher had put an end to it right away, but the words stuck with Lance, for some reason.

With how much humanity had progressed in terms of technology, one would think they would be able to get past petty rivalry between nationalities and usually that was true, but the influx of foreigners following the establishment of the Galaxy Garrison in the US desert still annoyed some people, despite its existence as a multinational center for space exploration. It irritated Lance to no end, especially when so many of these scientific advances came from international collaboration.

If only he could shrug off the inadequacy that now grew in his chest.

Straight ahead, there was a path that led to a green area in the middle of the campus. The other students had taken to calling it the Woods, though it was more of a middle-sized park, with benches and picnic tables where anyone from the Institute could go to relax. That’s where Lance went, mind too full to really focus on homework.

He wondered if people would react that same way if he ever made it into the Garrison. He didn’t know how Veronica dealt with it all, especially when she was alone in Arizona most of the time. Barely a week had passed and Lance already missed his parents, the tenderness of home-cooked food and well-intended lectures.

No, he had to believe that Billy Underwood was an exception. The other kids hadn’t joined in on his taunts, even if no one had moved to defend Lance. It was still too early to make conclusions on his colleagues, especially when everyone had seemed so charmed by him before then.

Lance was so lost in thought that he didn’t realize he had been standing in front of one of the benches until a new voice broke through the peace of the park.

“Are you just gonna stand there?”

The words were somewhat harsh, but when Lance lowered his eyes to their source the girl winced, grimacing. She seemed to have spoken impulsively.

“Hmm, yeah.” Lance blinked at her for a moment, before finally sitting down on the bench. He made sure to leave space between him and the girl, not wanting to make the situation even more awkward.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” the girl said after a moment of silence. She looked at him sideways and her brown eyes seemed almost golden in the sunlight. There were freckles spread across the bridge of her nose and across her cheeks, and the green ribbon in her hair swayed in the wind. It was a soft sight, a contrast to the steeliness of her posture and gaze.

“It’s fine,” Lance hurried to assure her. She looked young, but so did he, and talking to complete strangers never failed to make him nervous. “Nothing like a little girl yelling at me to bring me back to earth.”

He gave her his best grin, the one reserved for first impressions and fancy parties. It was supposed to project confidence and kindness, even though Luis said he ended up looking a bit smug.

“I didn’t yell,” the girl pointed out with a light frown. Then her eyes shifted into a more calculating look. “You’re a bit of a goofball, aren’t you?”

“I prefer the term good-humored,” he replied jokingly.

She continued to stare. Lance got the feeling that the girl did this a lot. She had an untamed intelligence to her that Lance couldn’t completely understand. It was the sort of air that teachers sometimes carried, as if they could see something deeper in you if they looked long enough.

“It didn’t seem like you were feeling all that good-humored just now.” She tilted her head to the side, letting the words hang between them.

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” Lance found himself saying.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” She looked so doubtful that it almost made Lance laugh. The feeling, however, was overcome by the relief of finally having someone who would listen.

He had spent the week trying and failing to explain to Veronica what was truly making him feel down. She was too busy or too happy for Lance to tell her the truth, especially when it left him so vulnerable. After all, Veronica had taken to her work on the Institute like a fish to water. Lance was supposed to be more adaptable than this.

With the rest of his family away in Cuba, he felt unbearably lonely.

“Yes! Thank you!” Lance shifted in the bench to face the girl. She was taken aback by his enthusiasm, but didn’t move away. “There’s this cabrón in my class, who thought it was a good idea to mess with me, just ‘cause I said fábrica instead of factory in our first day here. He hasn’t really left me alone since…” he whined. “I speak two languages but somehow I’m the uneducated ass here!”

The girl nodded, eyes downcast. “I know what you mean.”

“You do?” He eyed the fairness of her skin and the almost ginger of her hair. “Sorry, but you look white.”

Lance’s comment must have taken her by surprise, because she actually laughed.

“I am white. I’m also Italian.” She rolled her eyes, but there was amusement in the tug of her lips. “I can be both.”

“That’s true.” Lance grinned sheepishly. It was good that she wasn’t offended by his lack of filter. “You don’t have much of an accent, though.”

“Neither do you,” the girl bit back, no real animosity in her tone.

He shrugged. “My family spent a lot of time in the US when I was younger. It used to be second nature to me. Now, I keep feeling like I have to hold back the instinct to roll my R’s.”

“I get that. My parents moved here right after I was born, but we used to speak Italian in the house.” There was a pause here, something that she couldn’t bring herself to say. “I think it’s cool that you can speak Spanish. It’s useful.”

“Yeah?” Lance sat up straight, feeling suddenly boastful.

“Sure!” she continued, encouraged by his interest. “The Bouman Aeronautics Research Institute really values multiculturalism! It is a hob of different nationalities and perspectives, created to foster new minds from around the world! Or that’s what my brother says, at least, and he is rarely wrong.” She gave him a smirk that quickly shifted into a grimace. “Don’t tell him I said that or he will never let me forget it.”

“Older brother?” At her nod, Lance smiled. “I got older siblings too. Sort of the reason I’m here in the first place, actually. One of them was accepted as a researcher and she tricked me into applying too.”

“Same, actually.” She seemed startled for a moment, pulling out her cellphone. “Freak, I have to go! I completely lost track of time while reading.” She got up to go, collecting the book she’d apparently put down to talk to him. It was a thick volume with numbers on the cover, but it didn’t look like math.

Another green ribbon fluttered to the ground, having escaped the pages of the book. Lance bent down to pick it up.

“Here.” He stretched it out to the girl. “Wouldn’t want to lose its pair,” he said with a wink.

“Thanks for reminding me!” She grabbed the ribbon hurriedly, then paused, turning back to Lance. “And for the conversation, I guess.”

Lance grinned at her. She was a little awkward but in an endearing way, like she wasn’t used to having the attention of others on her. Given she empathized with his circumstances in the Institute, it wasn’t that big of a leap to assume that she had trouble making friends.

“Bye bye, Italian girl.” He waved, glad that he could spend these few minutes with her.

“Farewell, Spanish boy.”

Lance meant to correct her about his nationality, but she took out running, clearly late for something. He laughed at the way she stumbled across the uneven ground, careless like a little kid. It was a strange juxtaposition: the thoughtfulness of her earlier words and the childishness of her smile now.

He settled back into the bench, feeling much more content than he’d been earlier. It was nice to talk to people outside of class, for a change.

And, well, Italian girl was pretty. A bit young-looking for him, but he thought guys her age should be tripping over their feet for a chance to talk to her.

“Hey, you’re Lance, right?” A boy had approached while Lance observed the girl disappear from sight. He was tall and robust, with shortly cropped hair, but his expression was friendly. “You’re in my Analytics class.”

It took Lance a second to place him. Analytics was one of the classes Lance struggled with the most, so he hadn’t had as much opportunity to joke around there.

“And you’re Hunk!” Lance snapped his fingers, smiling. “Sit down, man! What can I do for ya?”

--

“No, I promise you, she’s a cutie!” Lance exclaimed, hands waving around in the air. Hunk chuckled at his exuberance.

“I believe you, Lance.” His friend’s tone was fond and amused, which brought a smile to Lance’s face. “You’ve told me about Italian girl a hundred times already. Why don’t you just approach her again? You said you saw her on campus.”

It was true, he had seen her: running across the woods with her arms full of books; sitting by the big windows in the cafeteria, papers spread across the nearby seats; standing under an oak tree with her face turned towards the wind, her long hair escaping from where she’d tied it back.

Lance pouted at Hunk. “She hasn’t spoken to me since…” he mumbled.

“Well,” Hunk scrunched up his brows in thought, “you did say she seemed younger than us. She’s probably just embarrassed about venting to a stranger out of nowhere.”

Lance threw himself onto his bed so that Hunk wouldn’t see his face contort in a grimace. He hadn’t meant to twist the story so badly, but he had already started talking about Italian girl before he realized he didn’t want to share his insecurities with the other boy. Hunk was almost excessively easy to talk to, but they’d known each other for too short a time.

“She didn’t seem like the shy type,” he retorted, arms spread over his head. “Too snipy.”

Hunk had gotten up from his place at the desk and moved to sit on the bed, shaking his head at Lance. He had kind eyes, something that Lance hadn’t really noticed on that first week in the Institute. Some things just got lost amid the noise, he reasoned.

“For someone who feels no shame hitting on random girls, you sure are hung up on this one.” Hunk poked him on the ribs and Lance recoiled, twisting away.

“It’s not like that!” Even as he said it, Lance could feel his neck grow warm. He wasn’t really attracted to the girl, but there was something pleasant about her that did leave him faltering. “Seriously, dude, she’s probably the same age as my little sister!”

Hunk hummed in acceptance. “If you say that’s not it, then I believe you. You just talk about her a lot for someone who you only met once.”

Lance sat up to look Hunk in the eyes. It was true that his mind kept drifting back towards that girl, but he didn’t think the emotion she awakened in him was romantic.

“I’ve just never clicked with anyone like that,” he confessed, bringing his knees up to his chest. “And maybe that’s also why I haven’t talked to her again. ‘Cause what if it was a hoax?”

“So you don’t want to ruin the memory of it?” Hunk put a finger to his chin in a considering motion. “That’s fair.”

There was more to it, but Lance didn’t feel like explaining himself further. Several times he had gone by Italian girl in the library, even stopped to look at her, considering, but whenever she raised those amber eyes to meet his, Lance froze. He blushed and blustered and eventually left.

It was nice to see her smiling, though, even if it was at his expense. She was always alone when Lance saw her and it reminded him of how isolated he’d felt before befriending Hunk.

Italian girl was clearly smart, probably smarter than almost anyone in the institute, given how fast she went through those complicated-looking books. She also spent a lot of time in the library, because it was where Lance most ran into her. It was always her and her astronomy books and her ribbons.

Maybe he was projecting. Luis said he did this a lot.

“I just hope she found a friend here,” he said, more to himself than to Hunk, “someone who will also end up a little late just because they want to hear her out.”

Hunk studied his face, making Lance shift his position in discomfort.

“Who could have known?” the boy started teasingly. “You’re actually a good guy behind all that arrogance.”

Lance used his elbow to push Hunk off the bed, complaining more dramatically than was truly warranted. His friend laughed as he got up, only to throw himself back onto Lance to mess up his hair.

“What the hell, dude? Going for my hairdo?” He tried to free himself from Hunk’s arm around his neck. “Friendship over! We are no longer rooming when we get to the Garrison!”

Hunk didn’t let up and the two continued to laugh well into the afternoon.

Their time in the Institute would end in a little over a week, and Italian girl would drift to the back of Lance’s mind to become a lovely memory, just the afterimage of someone who could have meant more to him.

Translations:

“No es un acampamiento.Tú sabes que el campo de explotación espacial no está muy desenvuelto en Cuba. Si realmente quieres trabajar con eso, entonces simplemente cállate y no insultes a nadie.” - “It’s not a camp. You know that the field of space exploration is not very well developped in Cuba. If you really do want to work in this area, then simply shut up and don’t insult anyone.”

“¿Cuando he insultado a alguien?” - “When have I insulted anyone?”

“Mira, tengo una reunión con mi orientador. Y tú tienes por lo menos dos artículos para leer para las clases de mañana, ¿por qué no vas a la biblioteca para trabajar un poco? Prometo comprarte una hamburguesa después.” - “Look, I have a meeting with my coordinator. And you have at least two articles to read for tomorrow’s classes. Why don’t you go work for a bit in the library? I promise to buy you a burger later.”

“Me debes más que una hamburguesa y lo sabes, Ronie.” - “You owe me more than a burger and you know it, Ronie.”

“¡Gracias, hermanito! ¡No te arrepentirás!” - “Thank you, little brother! You won’t regret it!”

Cabrón - Bastard