#alan flowers productions

[alanflowerspersonalblog]

[ 2017 Jacksonville Beach, FL ]

[alanflowersproductionsblog]

[ 2023 Manhattan, NY ]

[fuck-i-like-too-much-stuff]

Canvas and Flowers

2 Chapters out on AO3 now

Fandom: We Are คือเรารักกัน | We Are (Thailand TV 2024)

Summary:

(Written after 14 Eps released after a few random ideas I had in Alan's ask box)

Their time at the University may be at its Deltaic stage, but the love they have for each other is an Ocean. Their lives may be as real as the rip tides of a river, but in each other's arms and laughter, they feel the calm of a lake.

Or the one where they've decided to never grow up, but instead to grow old together.

[be-co-me]

En Plein Air

Levi Ackerman

5.7k Words

Summary: A mysterious raven haired painter seeks solace in your flower laden patio and glasses of whiskey when he finds his hidden job turns awry. This is my submission for @kentopedia's valentine's collab event, Love Through The Ages. I urge you to go check out the rest of the fics as they are written and posted! (It tried to link it but it won't work for some reason!) This takes place during the late 1800's in the impressionism era in France. This has always been a favorite era of mine, specifically for the art that debuted around this time. Monet's pieces are my absolute favorite, specifically the water lily series and I think everyone should see it. I listened to Gregory Alan Isakov for the better part of writing this, so if you'd like to listen to some folk music as you read (I think the music is very fitting to the vibe of the fic), my three favorites are Empty Northern Hemisphere, If I Go I'm Goin, and Dandelion Wine.

---

Impressionism. The art movement taking the world by storm along with the budding history and developments of the new age, especially had caught your eye. Vehicles, new necessities; water and electricity even being brought to the lower class, such as yourself would be labelled, though you had not yet been fortunate enough to have them in your own home as of yet.

But specifically, what most caught your eye was the art of the raven haired man sitting across the bar from you, occupying a table all by his lonesome as you polish glasses and watch his nimble hands paint, leaned over a decently sized canvas. 2.5x3.5 meters in size if you had to guess. The tall whiskey on the rocks he ordered earlier tucked to the edge of the table as to not disrupt his painting should it be spilled.

His jacket was discarded neatly across the back of the chair placed next to him, his hat forgotten along with his whiskey glass. You realized you had been polishing the same glass for the last few minutes as you stared, when another patron had come to the bar top to order.

Once you served them, your mind forgot the glasses and silverware that needed polishing to end the evening in favor of staring at the man located across from you once more. You noticed many more details of him as he was the lone subject of your attention now. His eyes had not yet met yours as his concentration must have been so deep.

You noticed the paint layered over his fingertips, vibrants and dulls covering the pale of his skin. The painting looked to be outdoors, and, if you didn't know any better, you would say yourself the painting looked finished, but the last three hours of refinery to detail he had done since the sun went down proved to you otherwise.

He suddenly looked up, his gaze meeting the whiskey glass he had long ignored. His paint covered finger tips grazed the top as he picked the glass up and took a long drag from it, smearing different colors along the rim of the glass, something you didn't think you would mind polishing off later in turn of seeing the finished product.

His eyes met yours as he set the glass into the same wet ring the table now adorned from the glass. You retreated your gaze to that of his drink, the ice now mostly melted, and glass now almost empty. Your staring could technically be deduced to the state of his drink, as you were the bartender, but you were wiser to know he would most likely not believe that statement.

He cleared his throat loudly, pushing his chair back and carefully paraded around his adopted work space as to not knock into it. He brought the glass up to your bar, placing it in front of your empty hands, steely gaze now meeting your own, at a much closer distance than you realized you'd be comfortable admiring him from.

The silence between the two of you was heavy as he did not say a word, the gramophone's music filtering through the space instead, something you had been lucky to receive as a gift from one of your more wealthy, regular patrons, saying he had already gotten a new model. Your gaze met the glass once more and you noticed it was now empty, a feat you didn't seem to notice as he made his way to the bar. He must have finished it off.

"Would you like another sir?" you asked, reluctantly meeting his rigid gaze once again. His head swiveled to the table he had occupied as a group of patrons walked past, eyeing the painting that sat atop it from a respectful distance, carefully critiquing it. His head turned back to you with a nod.

"Yes please." he responded, his gaze turning back to the table. You nodded in affirmation and turned to grab the whiskey he had requested earlier in the evening. You turned back to him as you poured, hoping you may engage in some small talk to find more detail into his character.

"Your eyes will be strained painting in the dim light you know?" you stated, eyes concentrated on the pour you gave him. You set the bottle down into it's rightful place and scooped some fresh ice into the cup, placing it back in front of him before meeting his gaze once more, looking for a response.

He stared for a few seconds before responding.

"Better light than my shitty apartment and I only get light in the studio during the day. This was a last resort to finishing by tomorrow." he replied bluntly, but softly, eyes grazing down your frame to give a once over before meeting yours again.

"Hmm. What's tomorrow?" you asked, leaning a cheek against your palm atop the bar in front of him, happy the plan for idle conversation had worked in your favor. His gaze met the table once again before turning back to you.

" A gallery. Not a large one by any means, although I wish to be represented in one someday." he responded, shrugging his shoulders as he sipped from the new glass.

"May I see what you are working on up close?" you asked. His eyes grazed your features once again as you sat atop your palm, taking another sip from your own glass the wealthy patron had bought you earlier in the evening.

"I'd rather you see it when it is finished." he responded. You hummed in response.

"When will that be?" you asked and he pondered the question.

"Depends on if you'll kick me out when you close or let me stay." he responded. It was your turn now to ponder his statement and you nodded, removing yourself from atop your palm and turning to eye the clock hung over the top of the bar, surprised to see the hands nearing closing time.

"I don't think that would be a problem." you responded with a soft smile. He nodded, standing to make his way back to the table. He sat and placed the glass in it's same dark ring as to not make another stain atop the wood, then plucked a fine tip paint brush off the top of his palette, beginning his work once again.

You stared a bit longer than needed, something you hoped he was oblivious to, before picking up the glasses once again and polishing them off.

As you finished your closing duties, the last of the noisy patrons leaving the bar, you poured yourself another tall glass of floral gin, with a dash of floral bitters and tonic. Your nose wrinkled at the burn of the alcohol, strong but smooth in flavor with a flowery lavender aftertaste.

As you finished wiping the bar top down and half of your earlier poured drink along with the task, the final on your list of duties now done, you eyed the raven head man's table, taking note of the empty glass next to him. You grabbed a fresh, icy glass and poured another out for him, bringing it along with your own drink to join him at the table.

You set the glasses down carefully, plucking up the empty glass placed next to him and replacing it with the fresh one. You carefully pulled a chair out next to him and watched him as he painted many more fine details across the span of the canvas.

The style vaguely reminded you of art you had seen in the papers from Claude Monet, an artist you had come to revere for his Nympheas series he had started not long ago. In favor of capturing the vibrancy of life, dark sharp lines were now replaced with colors, vibrant and dull to show the shadows, light, and depth of life in more fine and true toned detail. It also replaced the stuffiness of painting in studios with that of painting outdoors. En plein air they called it. It became a style you rather wished you owned a piece of, specifically that of Monet's work, though it was far too pricey and that dream would remain just so.

It made you feel free, a dream you wished could become a reality, to live in a home atop a pond of water lilies. Only you were not wealthy; your dresses and occupation told others that much, no matter how hard you could try to front that you were. Although you were the owner of a small bar tucked into the middle upper class estate, you were by no means seen as a respectable business owner to many of the wealthy that came to drink the afternoons and evenings away.

The clink of a glass hitting the table brought you back to reality, his eyes meeting yours as he dusted his fingers across a paint smeared cloth. You eyed the piece, wondering if it had been finished. Your eyes met his steely greys.

"Is it finished?" you asked. He nodded, continuing to wipe his fingers. an unlit cigarette sat between his lips, hindering him from responding to the question vocally. You leaned over the table even more, admiring the small details of the piece, attempting to eye the separate brush strokes.

"I'm assuming this won't be varnished correct?" you asked. His hand obscured his face, cupping around the end of the cigarette as he lit it with a match, waving the match around a couple of times to snuffle the flame out before setting it atop the table. He took a long drag, leaning back into the chair.

"You've done your reading haven't you?" he asked, blowing the cloud of smoke away from your direction. You nodded.

"I'm keen to this up and coming style and seeing where it goes," you started, eyes raking the other side of the canvas as you leaned over farther to catch a better glance at the details, "I find the switch up intriguing and rather more beautiful than works of the past." you responded, continuing to eye the painting.

A large garden bed of French lavender swaying in the breeze caught your eyes before moving onto other flowering plants adorning the canvas. It seemed to be of a farmers market, though you noted the lack of people on the canvas. Handmade dresses fluttered in the wind hung to the side of stalls, and you eyed one you thought may look rather good on yourself.

You spent a long while admiring the work and you both sipped your drinks in comfortable silence. You were sure it was well past midnight at this point, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. You finally looked away from the canvas.

"It's beautiful. I may have to find where this market is to see it in person." you told him. Your eyes met the paint tubes littering the table, something you had failed to notice before. Maybe he's a bit wealthier than you are, being able to afford the new storage units for paint.

"You've gotten your paint in tubes. Quite hard to find around here." you noted aloud, meeting his eyes. He nodded, finishing his drink off.

"My uncle got them for me on a trip out of town. One of his customers was nice enough to give him a hefty discount, though I'm not sure I'll ever hear the end of returning the favor to him." he responded.

You pointed a finger to his drink and he shook his head. You opted to finish your own and stand, grabbing the discarded glasses and making your way behind the bar to wash them as he began to pack his supplies up. You made your way to the gramophone and halted the current shellac record that played, placing it into it's designated envelope and back to it's alphabetical bin.

You met him back at the table before grabbing your belongings, ready to also make your way home. He adjusted his jacket into prim and proper place after putting it on.

"I haven't paid for my drinks." he stated. You shrugged in response.

"Guess you'll have to come back and see me then."

---

You realized, rather irritated, the next morning, that you had never gotten his name. In favor of the spring day the farmer's almanac predicted would be warmer than the previous early spring season, you opted to open the outdoor patio of the bar for the day rather than the inside, which you would possibly open in the absence of the sun later in the evening. You now admired the flowers littering the small yard in a new light since seeing the mysterious man's painting. Maybe you could add even more flowers, specifically the French lavender that jumped out to your gaze in his painting.

Your morning went smoothly, your cup of coffee being replaced with that of the drinks a regular had bought you. He drank on absinthe, a flavor he had brought home from the military, something that had become quite popular, though you didn't admire the flavor the same way many other patrons had. You refused to drink it.

In the later afternoon, a warm breeze enveloped the patio and your eyes piqued at the raven haired man you had met the previous evening as he walked through the gate. He carried he same painting supplies he hauled last night, gaze wandering for a table that was open. Currently they had all been occupied and his eyes met your own as he made his way to the empty barstool in front of you. He looped his bag across the rung of the back of the chair, placing his jacket and hat across it before sitting atop the chair. You were rather glad you had worn a nicer dress in favor of seeing him again.

"The usual?" you asked, grabbing a glass to make the drink anyways. He nodded.

"Not quite sure I've been here enough for you to be asking me that question." he responded. You poured into the glass and scooped up the ice, placing the glass in front of him. He took a long sip from the glass, eyeing the drink sitting atop your work space. Your cheeks felt warm and you were sure they were rosy, the tip of your nose tingling at the slight buzz of the gin running through your veins.

"How was the gallery?" you asked. He shrugged, messing with the buttons of his white shirt as he unbuttoned the top two at his collar and the cuffs at his wrists, rolling them up a couple of times.

"I got quite the offer on one of my paintings. I'll be meeting the gentleman here later today." he responded.

"I'm glad I could convince you to come back, let alone bring others with you." you responded wittily, taking a sip of your drink. Your gaze wandered over his raven locks of hair, noticing the cigarette tucked behind his ear. His bangs fell into his eyes, probably due soon for a haircut, but you rather liked the longer hair on him.

He began to dig out supplies from the bag, canvas ditched for a sketchbook in lieu of the considerably smaller workplace he could now work with.

You continued your work as he began his, hastily making drinks as more patrons poured in. You thought you may let him know of an open table lest he'd want to move, but you'd rather he stayed closer, and he was so endowed in his work. You thought it better not to interrupt him unless you brought a new drink along with you.

As the afternoon slowed and patrons rolled in at a lesser frequency, you stood in front of him, taking a break from the drinks you had earlier in the afternoon once your wealthy regular left, in exchange for water. You tried to catch a glimpse of what he worked on, sketching out lines across the pad with graphite rather than any paint as of yet.

Another man made his way next to him, setting his own jacket and hat atop the back of the adjacent chair, and it was only now you got a glimpse of the work as he set the book down to shake hands with the new man. Your eyes scanned the page, a drawing resembling the flowers of your patio across the page. You felt a warmness trickle inside your chest as you looked back up, asking the other man what he would like to drink on after refilling the raven haired man's glass. Another whiskey, but neat this time.

His sketchpad then sat closed atop the bar for quite long as they conversed over the painting the man would be purchasing. You eavesdropped on their conversation, noting the painting being purchased would be the one he spent the better part of the day working on the previous evening.

You felt excitement for your newfound 'regular', dare you call him, when you heard the monetary value placed on the work by the other man, and in the raven man's expression, you found an honest surprise to what the wealthy man would pay for the fine art as they shook hands on the price, a celebration found in lieu of another drink.

As the evening sun faded into the starry sky, you lit the lanterns adorning your patio, painting it down to a bright orange and yellow haze.

"I'd like to tab out, and I insist you put Levi Ackerman's drinks on my own tab." the wealthy man insisted. You eyed the raven haired man, his gaze one of annoyance, in lieu of hearing his name for the first time before nodding. You told the man the total and he made his way out of the bar with his new piece, after leaving a hefty tip.

"It's a beautiful piece, I'm not surprised it was sold so quickly, Mr. Ackerman." you told him, testing his name on your tongue as you poured him a new drink.

"Just Levi please." he responded, taking a long sip of the fresh drink after you had placed it in front of him.

"Okay Just Levi, what are you sketching out now?" you asked. His eyes met yours in warning at the joke, shaking his head as he opened the closed sketchbook back up. Your eyes raked over it, as you found it the same as the last time you snuck a glance at it. He picked the graphite back up, beginning his work on it once more.

You noted the graphite smeared across the meat of his left hand, something you thought must have interfered with his work quite often. For sitting at the bar for the afternoon and evening, the depiction of the space you created was accurate in it's fullest across the page, the lanterns now being added in one by one.

You fell into the same routine as the previous night, Levi worked on his art as you closed your bar down, continuing to pour him drinks every so often. You poured one out for yourself, in search for a buzz from the alcohol again to warm yourself up in the colder breeze the night had brought in.

You finished your duties and your drink, pouring another as you made your way to the seat next to him, watching him as he leaned over the sketch and placed carefully calculated, soft smudges across it with oil pastels now, bringing the page to life with color. You noted the dull fingerprints of the pastels atop his glass, something you again wouldn't mind to polish away. You rather liked the lack of people in his paintings, you noted, as you found the depictions of the wealthy often polluted what you thought the nature of the paintings to be about; what they meant to you personally. Freedom.

He finished off the drink after half an hour, along with he sketch, and you grabbed the glasses, yours long empty and your body warm, as you washed the glasses under the warm water and set them atop a shelf to dry in the evening breeze.

You found the page torn out of the sketchbook when your eyes met his figure again, edges neat and crisp, sat atop the bar. He dug a glass frame out of the bag, placing the painting carefully into it. He then pushed the frame towards you across the bar top, and you picked it up with a sense of delicacy, careful to not mess with the pastels sat behind the glass. Your eyes roamed from the sketch to that of your patio a few times, noting the details even you would have failed to notice.

"Yet another beautiful piece of work. I'm quite honored you'd choose a place of my creation to bring to life." you commented, sliding the frame back to him carefully.

"You keep it. I insist. And let me pay that tab." he responded, fishing out cash from his pocket. You shook your head, taking the painting and placing it in a nook below the gin shelf so you may eye it more often in lieu of when you would be pouring your own favored drink to enjoy after long evenings.

"This is more than enough payment. I insist. So long as you let me enjoy your paintings, you can drink for free in my establishment." you responded. He left with a curt nod.

---

One day passed, then two. Three days became a week before you saw him again. You began to worry, and even felt a bit disappointed at the absence of your newfound favorite patron. A rather solemn look adorned his pretty features the next time you saw him walk through he gates of your patio, and you rather thought that he could be a painting himself as he walked to and sat across from you at the bar top right before closing that evening. You noted the lack of paint supplies and the angry red color under his fingernails and the blistering red of scrubbed hands in the lantern's orange light as he set his palms atop the bar.

"I hope that's paint under your nails Levi." you told him, your gaze leaving his hands as your brow creased in worry, turning to grab the whiskey bottle that sat abandoned the past week and pouring it into a glass. You heard a mutter of curses leave his lips and you set the cold glass in front of him. He took quite a long while before nestling the glass in between his hands and taking a sip from it.

You opted to try his drink of choice for the evening, abandoning your own in lieu of trying a new flavor on your tongue, your eyes still grazing over the oil pastel depiction of your patio every time you made a drink in his absence. The new type of burn made your nose scrunch involuntarily, a much stronger alcohol percentage invading your taste buds.

You turned to him once again as the notes of smoky wood and caramel smoothed over your taste buds, the strong alcohol leaving a rather pleasant flavor behind. You could see why he enjoyed the drink, especially colder.

You sat in a rather comfortable silence, and after he finished the first of what you assumed to be many drinks quickly, he let out a rather exasperated sigh, throwing his head back and leaned far back against the barstool, his arms folding across his eyes. You continued to sip at your own drink, grabbing the bottle next to you to pour into his empty glass, scooping the ice into it. His posture didn't change.

"Want to talk about it?" you asked, voice struggling as you took a sip of the strong whiskey, realizing he hadn't said a word to you in the half hour he had been there and you rather longed for the sound of his deep voice again.

It took him a long while to sit up before shaking his head. You nodded in response.

"I thought I'd have to revoke my offer if you didn't come back to see me you know." you joked lightheartedly, his gaze finally meeting your own, excitement fluttered in your chest as he inhaled to speak to you for the first time in a week.

"How have things been around here? Any trouble?" he asked. You shook your head in response to the rather random question, taking note of the lilt of edge in his voice.

"Just the regular drunk hooligans and their usual shenanigans on occasion. I'm far used to it by now." you responded, taking a sip of the drink. He reached into the chest pocket of his already buttoned down white shirt, grabbing the case of cigarettes and matches from it, lighting one up. He took a drag from it, blowing it away from you, eyes meeting your own once more.

"I'm glad to hear so. Seems to be trouble everywhere else." he responded.

"My offer still stands. Don't you know bartenders aren't only good at keeping bars but also secrets?" you asked with a worried smile, polishing away at a glass you'd forgotten previously to keep your hands occupied. His gaze met over both his shoulders, you assumed to confirm the lack of bodies besides the two of you within the vicinity before freely speaking of his absence the last week.

"Being an artist doesn't make much money you know, unless you're well known, which I am not." he said, pausing to sip at his drink, and you nodded in following attention of what he would explain. His tone became significantly quieter as he spoke next.

"My uncle works for the mafia, and unfortunately I have to help him. I owe him the debt of removing me from the deepest depths of society. No, I owe him my life, as much as I hate to say so. No favors that I repay him would ever be enough." he continued, ashing the forgotten cigarette before taking another drag from it.

You nodded, processing the information as you took another sip of your drink, the ice steadily melting. You wondered if that was all of the information he would allow you to know of the subject or if he would continue on. You eyed his hands once more, the redness of his skin waned, but remained underneath his fingernails. You ran a cloth under warm water as he continued to sip at his drink, grabbing at the brim of the glass in his particular way. You wrung the steaming towel out and placed your arms across the bar top, pointing towards his unoccupied hand. You couldn't help but to think the red was placed there earlier in the day, and after attempting to harshly scrub it away, he wanted to seek solace in your establishment and your presence.

"May I?" you asked, your eyes staring strongly into his own, the question coming out as more of a demand rather than a request for permission. His gaze softened and he nodded, placing his drink down on the bar top, the fingers of his right hand staying wrapped around it.

You gently wiped around top of his left hand, lightly rubbing into the creases of his fingers and knuckles before gently turning his palm over and doing the same, making sure to wipe over every millimeter of the skin on both sides before turning his hand over once more and beginning on his fingernails. His glass sat empty in your concentration and he reached for your own, something you didn't mind as you rubbed his cuticles clean.

You pulled the towel taught around your thumb nail, running it underneath his own nails to remove the angry rusty red. Once you finished his left hand, you ran the towel under the warm water once again, cleaning it of it's dirt now, setting your palm onto the bar in demand of his other hand without a word.

He placed his palm carefully onto yours and sipped at your drink carefully as he watched you clean his right hand. As you began on his upper forearms, you felt his muscles untaut across your palm and he visibly relaxed in your peripherals, a sigh leaving his lips. You felt your own shoulders relax as well.

"I like these hands more when they're covered in paint and pastels, not in danger Levi." you nearly whispered, finishing up underneath his nails. You placed the towel under the water once again, cleaning it thoroughly and tossing it onto the back of the bar after folding it up.

He brought his hand back to him, wrapping it around the glass in his other hand as he examined his now clean fingers. His bangs covered his steely grays as he pondered a response to your statement.

"I hope one day that's all you'll have to see them do." he responded quietly in return. You poured a short glass of the whiskey for yourself this time, topping his own off as well, reveling in the intimate environment the two of you had blossomed in the first of his visits.

For, in technicality, the third day of knowing him, you already felt quite a hearty connection to him, even more so than your more frequent bar guests. If anything had happened to him and he didn't come to the bar anymore, so suddenly, you'd be quite upset, on an even deeper level than you'd felt the past week.

"I hope I get to know you long enough to see that happen." you said, used to the burn of your drink now, your eyes meeting his own. You stared into his eyes, finishing the drink and placing the glass down. You stepped atop the milk crate at your feet and placed your elbows atop the bar, hands intertwining with the collar of his shirt as you pulled his face much closer to your own. His gaze penetrated your own as you took over the solemn conversation, noses nearly touching, your eyes flitting down to his lips and all around his visage, taking in his sharp features, dark long eyelashes, and plump lightly chapped lips before tracking back to his eyes.

You noted they were more of a slate grey, the flecks of blue you hadn't noticed before much more pertinent in the close proximity you'd brought about. The color reminded you much of the hydrangeas nestled in the back corner of your now peacefully quiet patio, peaceful, though your heart was thrumming harder than you think it ever had. His palms lay wrapped around your forearms in anticipation.

The color of his eyes dwindled away as they closed and his lips captured your own, the chapping of them brushing roughly against the edges of your lips. You captured his bottom lip between your own in an attempt to soften it against the petroleum across your own lips.

Your hands brushed the briary undercut he donned and his palms brushed over your shoulder blades with a squeeze as he pushed harder into the kiss you had initiated. You could taste the smokiness of his cigarette, homogenous to the smokiness and burnt caramel of the whiskey you had shared earlier in the evening, and you hoped he could taste the same on you.

Your intimacy was broken up by the loud thunder rumbling off in the distance, the breeze picking up strongly, something you failed to notice in your already lovesick state. You broke apart from him, chest heaving, staring into the slate of his eyes that reminded you oh so much of your hydrangeas you had moved closer to the front of your patio earlier in the week.

His palms lay wrapped around your forearms once again, yours in much of a similar manner. You smiled deeply at him and noticed for the first time that he returned the sentiment back to you. You sat in a more than comfortable silence as the pace of your breathing returned to normal, the searing warmth of his palms a comfort to your skin in the late cold breeze. The coarse thunder boomed once more, a streak of bright white light painting the sky and his eyes, before quickly disappearing into the covered stars.

"I need you to always come back. Please. You're my new favorite regular you know." you told him breathily. He nodded in response to the sentiment, gaze following behind you. Your eyes met the path his own followed, staring into the painting he had made for you the week before.

"Who would I tell my darkest secrets to if I didn't? And who would clean my conscience figuratively and literally when I've found myself in trouble?" he said in response, slate greys flitting back to you.

"I'll always be here, whiskey glass in hand, whenever you need it you know. I'm not going anywhere." you whispered. He nodded, rubbing his palm up and down the expanse of your now exposed forearms, your sleeves rolled up earlier to clean dishwares.

The both of you gathered your belongings, ready to fare out the storm brewing as he insisted he walk you home. He pointed out the colors of the dull night, bringing it to life in the now drenched city estate. You turned back to look at your closed down bar, and the flowers of your patio that much needed the rain thundering down from the sky.

And you found yourself more alive than you'd ever felt, standing in the rain, looking upon the result of your life's works in peace and harmony.

The landscape now bloomed in vibrants and pastels in your wake, no longer dull and forgotten. Your world flooded with a new sense of colored hues as you gazed upon your flowers, in a deeper sense of detail than before; and you found that raven colored black he brought about earlier in the week was not the absence of all the colors you had previously thought it was, but rather kin to the mix of the many hues littered about in the bottom of the raven artist's bag and across his canvases.

---

Please let me know what you think! I think this is by far one of my favorite pieces I have written. I wanted to add more, but I felt it would ruin where it leaves off, so maybe a part two will be due at some point if requested. I wrote this last night after a pretty scary time; my college campus had an active shooter and our whole campus was kind of shook for the better part of an hour (no one was injured!), but writing definitely helped to calm me down, so I am glad I made an entry for this! This is lightly edited as I don't have much time before class, so please excuse any mistakes!

[pretzelstickrockets]

Today you're getting trivia dump on the musical Little Shop of Horrors because I'm considering getting a plant for my dorm. And my roommate is a theatre major so there is a greater than zero chance of me walking in on her singing to it. Let's begin!

The official description of Audrey II is "a cross between a venus flytrap and an avocado" that notably gains "shark-like aspect" when snapping at food.

A remake of the original film was in the works but went into dormancy in 2020 due to COVID. The remake was planned to have Taron Egerton as Seymour, Chris Evans as Orin (the dentist), Scarlett Johansson as Audrey, and Billy Porter as Audrey II.

The inspiration for the story came from H.G Wells short story The Flowering of the Strange Orchid , written in 1894, which was about a human-hungry plant. Roughly 40 years later, John Collier wrote Green Thoughts, a dark-comedy based off of Wells' work. Then, in 1956, Arthur C. Clarke wrote The Reluctant Orchid, which explored the more ominous side of the plant's intentions. The culmination of these works resulted in Charles B. Griffith's idea for The Little Shop of Horrors, which would be adapted by Howard Ashman and Alan Menken in 1982 into the musical.

The musical is frequently credited the first horror-comedy in the musical theatre scene.

Ashman and Menken also composed the music and lyrics for Disney's The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, and Aladdin.

The story is a satirical take on the common Faust Legend- the story of a man selling his soul to the devil. This trope is common for stories of greed and consequence.

The show is credited as the having been the 3rd longest running musical and highest grossing in off-Broadway production records.

Despite technically premiering on Broadway after running off-Broadway prior to 2003, the Tony awards determined the musical was eligible for the "Best Musical Revival" category despite never having been on Broadway previously.

[seriowan]

for the dancing and the dreaming (hunter x f!reader)

“Surviving is the bare minimum of what it means to live. Thanks to you, Omega knows how to survive — maybe you should show her what it means to live a little bit as well.”

summary: on the night of pabu's annual 'giving festival', omega opens herself up to new experiences while hunter's night takes an unexpected turn, leaving him with a memorable moment that might change the course of his life forever...

pairing: hunter x f!reader (nicknamed coral)

tags: spoilers for tbb s2ep13; love at first sight; meet-cute; first-meeting kiss; reader is described as wearing a yellow sundress; nothing but fluff! - brief mentions of tech/phee

word count: 5k

a/n: the second i watched episode 13 i got this idea to write hunter in a whirlwind romance with a pabu girl and three drafts later, this is the final product! i wrote it with MAJOR inspiration from tangled's 'kingdom dance' scene and that one scene from how to train your dragon, so prepare thyself!

radio: kingdom dance, alan menkin — for the dancing and the dreaming, httyd soundtrack

♡ masterlist ♡

Pabu was a true gem of nature, tucked away amid the endless oceans of its home planet.

  As the warm sun kissed the little island, turquoise waters lapped gently against the grainy shores and ancient stone ports. Vibrant green brush and trees swayed in the breeze, their fronds whispering to one another. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of exotic flowers, peppering the island in patches of oranges, reds, and pinks. Birdsong echoed alongside the crashing waves, moon-yo hoots and howls bouncing from one side of the island to the other. From the cobblestone streets and markets came the sound of life; cacophonies of chatter and murmurs, a blend of voices as the islanders bartered and laughed and greeted one another with merry smiles. 

   It was as if time stood still on Pabu, and every moment spent there was a moment of peace. 

   Hunter looked over the city from the balcony of Shep’s home, his stomach full and his heart more so. 

   He tuned in to Tech and Phee’s conversation, smiling into his cup of freshly squeezed juice when he mostly heard Tech’s voice going on about artifacts. A quick side eye and there Phee was, listening with her elbow on the table and her cheek in her palm, eyes locked onto his rambling brother as if he was the only person around. 

   Wrecker lay on a lounge chair, his hands behind his head and a dazed smile on his lips. With his belly finally full, the food coma hit him harder than ever, sending him into a blissful sleep that no one thought to disturb. Especially not when the sun was just right. Not when the winds carried the salty smell of the ocean and the sound of Omega’s laughter as she and Lyana chased the moon-yos around the balcony.

   He looked over the city once more, watching as everyone lived their little slices of life. Couples walked hand-in-hand. Kids played ball and danced together, holding fizzing sparklers above their heads. An older man fed a cluster of moon-yos from a paper bag of scraps, waving at a woman as she walked past him with a basket of flowers hooked on her arm. 

   Hunter found it hard to believe that this island wasn’t a dream. Everything felt so serene and calm that it just… didn’t feel familiar. Not for them, at least. Not after years of missions and months of running and scavenging. After living day-to-day for most of his life, being able to sit and breathe felt odd. It was even more strange that he actually had to sit and wonder if he could call this island home. 

   As far as he could remember, home was never really a place but a people. His people — the one rambling on to an interested girl; the other sleeping peacefully on the lounge chair; the little girl who held Lyana’s hand as she scurried out through the gate. 

   Hunter glanced down at his cup and gave it a gentle swirl. 

   When did he last feel so content?

  With the little voice in the back of his head reminding him that two of his brothers were out fighting for their lives (albeit for different reasons), he knew that he’d never have a total moment of peace… but, as small as this was, it was enough. Enough for him to close his eyes and take a deep breath. Enough for him to sit and actually feel the sun on his face. Enough for him to listen to the ocean, its gentle waves reminding him of a quiet Kamino. 

   Footsteps approached him from behind. He smelled the faintest scent of fruit as Phee leaned against the parapet, elbows up on the wall with a cup in her hand. She left Tech by the table, sparing a glance his way before turning towards Hunter. 

   “You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” she teased. 

   The opposite, actually, was what he wanted to say. Instead, he settled on, “It’s nice here.”

   “Nice enough to stay?” She wasn’t pushing him but she wasn’t exactly being subtle about it either. Hunter knew that Phee always had two reasons for everything she did and when she glanced back at Tech, eyes softening, Hunter knew exactly why she posed this question. 

   He smothered the urge to smile and looked off towards the ocean, shoulders sagging as he struggled to come up with an answer. 

   “Think about it,” Phee murmured, nudging his arm with her elbow. “Take all the time you need. Pabu’s not goin’ anywhere.” 

   He hummed, the corner of his mouth lifting as he glanced from Phee to Tech. “Sure.” 

   An unspoken conversation took place as Phee narrowed her eyes, unable to hide the smallest trace of her smile. Hunter just arched a brow and she gave in with a sigh, shaking her head.

“You’ve got me there, Bandana. I think staying here would do you all some good — especially Omega. But, I’m not one for peer pressure. Maybe a walk through the city might help you come to a decision.” She looked over the city, her face lighting up when she noticed the streamers and decorations hanging from rooftop to rooftop. “Looks like tonight’s the Giving Festival.” 

   “Giving Festival?” 

   Phee nodded. “Everyone comes out for the Giving Festival and shares things like food, clothes, and jewelry — and everything’s free with no expectation to receive anything in return. They thank the ocean and the island for giving them a safe haven. It's why the kids get dressed in blue clothes and parade around with their sparklers. In fact, Omega and Lyana should be down there right now.” 

   He thought of it for a brief moment before nodding. Phee took that as her sign to leave but not without giving Hunter’s arm a squeeze. When she turned, Tech greeted her with the smallest smile — an action that Hunter seemed to notice happening more frequently than usual. 

   Leaving his cup on the parapet, Hunter removed his knife from the sheath on his waist and placed it atop the table.  After a final glance back at his brothers, Hunter walked through the gate and left the balcony, entering the colorful streets of Pabu. 

   It took him a bit to get used to the sheer kindness that never seemed to run out from the island’s residents. Wherever he went, it seemed that everyone knew he was a newcomer, so he was often given cheerful waves and happy smiles. Some even stopped him, briefly chatting to introduce themselves before going back to their festivities. It was all odd, truly, but it was somewhat nice to be treated like a neighbor instead of a criminal on the run. 

   A father, as Shep had previously called him. Those words still echoed in his head and he had no intention of ever forgetting them. 

   Hunter’s walk through the city had its effect, as Phee suggested. The more he wandered, the more he wondered if he could live like the islanders: at peace and happy. Domesticity was never really an option until now, but as he watched the children play in front of their homes, parents watching from balconies and doorways, he imagined himself in their shoes. It was easy to picture Omega running through these stone streets, laughing as freely as she did when she first latched onto his heart. 

   It didn’t take long before he came across that exact sight. 

   Standing in the center of a busy market street, Omega and Lyana wore blue robes over their clothes and carried glowing sparklers in their hands. They both had blue powder staining their cheeks and nose, causing Hunter to smile when the girls shared a giggle at how they looked. It wasn’t until Omega turned towards a store and waved that he realized the two girls weren’t alone. 

   Emerging from the doorway of a dome home was the woman he saw from Shep’s balcony. While she didn’t have a basket of flowers hanging from her elbow anymore, she carried two necklaces of sea glass in her hands and gave them to Omega and Lyana. From where he stood, Hunter could hear the gratefulness in Omega’s voice as the woman tied the thin string around her neck. Her nimble finger worked quite quickly before she took a step back, gently brushing a strand of hair out of Omega’s eyes. 

   The action was so soft that it made Hunter watch her with a peculiar gaze. She was beautiful, but she had a certain quality about her that outshone her beauty — a genuine energy that she revealed as she spoke to Omega with ease.

   When she turned her head, Hunter noticed the flower poised behind her ear — a bright orange flower that brought out the color of her cheeks and the vibrance in her eyes. The woman crouched, her yellow sundress settling around her like a river of color. She grasped Omega’s hands and squeezed, grinning up at her before winking. Omega giddily nodded her head up and down and squeezed the woman’s hand as she turned, pulling her along as they both followed Lyana down the road. 

   The woman’s dress billowed after her as she ran. She had a captivating smile, cheeks flushed and eyes blazing. The wind blew through her hair as if it was created just for her, carrying her laughter to his ears.  

   The moment they took the corner, Hunter followed, interested to see where this night would take him. 

-

You liked Lyana’s new friend. Omega was a firecracker of energy and curiosity, roaming to and fro with the intention to seek, find, and explore. When Lyana brought her to your doorstep and made introductions, you just knew that the little blonde was bound to become a new regular in your jewelry shop. She loved exploring the various things you created, including the sea glass necklaces. 

   When it came time to meet the girls outside, you made sure to grab the necklaces she’d been eyeballing. Omega’s expression of shock was worth it when you presented it to her, and her soft voice of thanks was enough to make your heart melt. 

   True to the promise you made to both girls, you took Lyana and Omega to the market square full of music and dance. Omega’s eyes were full of amazement as she looked over the festivities. Vibrant colors glowed from the lanterns hanging overhead. Streamers swayed in the wind like spinning ribbons of silk. Dancers formed circles that spun quickly, cheering and coaxing others to join. Lively, upbeat music played from the performers standing around a tall statue. They played with passion, dancing alongside a few children that joined their sides. 

   You held both Omega and Lyana’s hands as you guided them to the dancing circle in the center of the square. While Lyana was excited to join, Omega’s reluctance grew until she pulled her hand away, shaking her head as she took a step back. 

   “I can’t,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve never danced before.” 

   You smiled softly. “Would you feel better if I went first? Then you can see how it goes and if you want to join, you can jump in next to me and Lyana.” 

   Omega nodded and you grinned, turning to face the circle. Adjusting the flower in your hair, you picked up your dress and barged into the dancing circle, joining those who moved in unison. It took a moment before you caught up, but falling into step was easy. You spun and twirled and danced like there was no tomorrow, eyes shut as you switched partners and crossed the open circle alongside others. As the circle broke apart, paving way for duos and trios to have their own moment of dance, you noticed Omega and Lyana holding hands while they jumped back and forth and all around, laughing and giggling like girls in their prime. 

   The music picked up its pace and the circle reformed. Dresses were kicked up and hands were clapped loudly, laughter and whistles echoing from the bystanders that watched. Entranced by the pure jubilance of the music, and the energetic feeling of the dance, it was as if the world melted away, leaving nothing but you and the music. 

   You closed your eyes to enjoy the moment when suddenly, your balance slipped away as you bumped into the person beside you. Just before you could hit the ground, a pair of hands grabbed you by the elbows, hauling you up to a firm chest. Planting your hands on the figure’s vest, you struggled to catch your breath as you laughed, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. 

   “My goodness,” you gasped, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry-” 

   The moment you looked up, all of the words just left your lips. A knot twisted in your gut when you met a pair of rich brown eyes, that crinkled with amusement as they gaze down at you. 

   “Careful,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. 

   You wet your lips, uncertain if you could even speak, when Omega’s voice suddenly echoed from behind you. 

   “Hunter! 

  She and Lyana ran up to you and the man, halting in their tracks the moment they saw the odd position you were in - your hands on Hunter’s chest with his on your arms.  They looked at one another with wide eyes and started giggling, causing you to take a step back and shyly fiddle with the flower behind your ear, cheeks as red as the lights above you. 

   Hunter put his hands on his hips, a little furrow in his brow, but he didn’t seem threatening. It was the observant gaze of a father.

You couldn't help but stir at the sight. Not only was he protective but he was quite gorgeous. He had the structure of the marble statues you’d seen in the Archium. Soft features, like the roundness of his jaw and the curve of his nose, but there was strength as well. Strength in his rich brown eyes as they moved from you to Omega. 

   And that strength, however threatening it may have been to others, softened when he placed his hand on Omega’s head, teasing her with a little tug on the ends of her hair. 

   “Having fun?”

   It was easy to admit that you were entranced by everything about him - from the way he carried himself to the way he spoke. He was both gentle and sturdy, something that drew you in and made it impossible to look away. 

   “Yeah!” Omega giggled, breathless from the amount of running she did earlier. “Lyana took me around the market and look-!”

Shoving her hands in her pockets, she pulled out various little trinkets: a knife made of whalebone, bracelets fashioned from polished stone, a ring of silver with a little opal on top, chewing gum from sweet sap, and a few others that she’d been gifted by the market goers. 

   With the tip of his finger, Hunter nudged around the items in her palm before offering her a small smile. He gave the blue powder on her cheek a gentle swipe with his thumb before settling his hand on her shoulder, eyes shifting to you.

You stuck your hand out, smiling bashfully.

  “Everyone calls me Coral around here,” you said, managing a small chuckle. “And I promise that I’m not as clumsy as I seemed earlier.” 

   “I know,” he remarked, shaking your hand. When he noticed your odd look, he backtracked, eyes widening just slightly. “I mean I saw you, uh, dancing. You’re good — at dancing, I mean.”

   Ignoring Omega and Lyana’s giggles, you bowed your head in thanks, your voice soft as you hummed, “Thank you, Hunter.” 

   He gave a small smile. “My pleasure, Coral.” 

   “It’s a giving festival, Hunter,” Omega sang, nudging his side. “It’s custom here to give something to someone that you meet for the first time. Look, Coral gave me a necklace from her shop! Lyana has the same one so we’re matching.” 

   Hunter frowned, glancing down at his empty pockets. He flashed you an apologetic look and you couldn’t help but giggle. “Sorry, I don’t have anything on me at the moment.” 

   You shook your head, removing the flower from behind your ear. Taking a step forward, you closed the gap between you and Hunter, tilting your head to look up at him as you tucked the flower in the breast pocket of his vest. 

   “It’s not a matter of obligation,” you murmured softly, adjusting the petals so that they were all on display. “It’s just a matter of acceptance. You’re new here, so we give you-” You glanced down at Omega and winked. “-and you, these gifts to welcome you to Pabu. You accept these gifts; we accept you.” 

   Lyana smirked, adding, “Kisses are accepted too!” 

   “Alright that’s enough from you two,” you interrupted, shooing them away when the two girls started giggling. “Go back to dancing — and make sure you get some of those dragon candies before Sebby runs out!” 

   Lyana gasped and snatched Omega’s hand. As she began to pull her away, Omega gave you and Hunter a happy wave, turning with a laugh that made Hunter’s eyes soften. 

   “She hasn’t been this happy in a long time,” he noted in a quiet voice, unable to look away from the girl even when you glanced at him. “Things have been… they’ve been tough on her.” 

   “I know,” you murmured, causing him to arch his brows in surprise. “Omega kind of told me everything about your current situation. She told me so much about you and your brothers, I practically feel like I know you already.” 

   “Of course,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Sorry, she has a habit of doing that.” 

   “Don’t worry,” you assured, nudging his side. When his lip twitched up, you smiled. “I can keep a secret. Besides, I’d like to see her around more often. Lyana has a hard time making friends and Omega’s brought out a side of her that I haven’t seen before — she just looks so youthful when she isn’t shouldering some of Shep’s burdens. Being a single father is tough on the two of them and I think having some support is doing them both some good.” 

   What you said must have resonated deeply with Hunter for he fell into silence, a distant look in his eyes as he watched Omega receive a cup of steaming candies from a stand. She looked his way and lifted the cup above her head, a toothy grin forming when Hunter nodded at her in approval. 

   “Thank you for making her feel accepted here.” 

   “Of course… but what about you?” 

   He glanced down at you and arched a brow. 

   “Do you feel accepted here?” You clarified, gesturing towards everyone in the market square. “I know how hard it can be to settle down. I had a similar experience before I found myself on Pabu. It took me a while to adjust but once I did, this place became my safe haven like it did for so many others.”  

   Hunter took a moment to look over the festivities. He watched the people smile and dance and greet one another. He watched them live their lives, sighing. 

   “As long as Omega can find a home here, that’s all that matters.”

   “It isn’t a crime to put your own needs forward, Hunter. Think of what’s good for you as well.” 

   “We still have unresolved matters,” he explained with a trace of frustration; not at you, but rather at the ‘unresolved matters’ that he mentioned. “There are things that need our attention-” 

   You removed your hand from around his arm to place your palm against his chest. He stopped talking, his eyes honing in on yours as you peered up at him with a seriousness he hadn’t seen before. 

   “Can you resolve any of those things from here?” You questioned, arching a brow.

   He hesitated, then shook his head. 

   “Then it’s best for you-” You glanced back at Omega, “-and her, to put those aside for now and just accept this time of peace. She needs your attention too, not just your protection.” Giving him a little smile, you fiddled with the flower in his pocket, murmuring, “Care to take a bit of advice from a stranger?” 

   Hunter’s eyes crinkled as he nodded, amusement in his voice when he hummed, “Go ahead.”

   You absentmindedly adjusted the petals as you spoke. “Surviving is the bare minimum of what it means to live. Thanks to you, Omega knows how to survive — maybe you should show her what it means to live a little bit as well.” 

   “How do you suppose I do that,” he asked with a sincereness that made your heart shatter. “Us clones don’t do much living — all we’ve ever done is survive.” 

   “Learn from others,” you suggested. “Learn from their experiences and their own lives… and if you feel comfortable with accepting help, let us show you so that you can show Omega.” 

   Hunter’s nod was so sudden that it made you furrow your brow in confusion. 

   “Alright,” he said without an ounce of hesitation. 

   “Alright?” You echoed, shocked by how quick he agreed.

   To your surprise, Hunter took your hand in his own, engulfing your fingers, and began to pull you towards the girls across the square. His expression was muted but there was a little smile on his lips as he said lightly, “We need to learn how to live, right? Then show me how.” 

   You laughed as you nodded, squeezing his hand back in return. “Alright, but you can’t get mad at me when the time comes for you to step out of your comfort zone. Living doesn’t mean it’s always comfortable.” 

   “I can handle a bit of discomfort." 

   “We’ll see about that." 

   You called out for Omega and Lyana as you approached them, earning wide-eyed looks of excitement the moment they noticed you and Hunter holding hands. To their dismay, you let go just to give Omega a gentle nudge toward Hunter. 

   “Hunter said he’d like to dance with you,” you lied, causing Omega’s eyes to widen as they flicked up to him. 

   “Really?” 

   His reluctant gaze shifted from Omega to you, narrowing just slightly before he looked back down and offered his little girl a small smile, nodding. When he held out his hand, Omega grasped it with excitement and pulled him to the dancing square, rambling on and on about the things she experienced while he was busy talking to you. As he was pulled into the sea of dancing duos and trios, he looked back at you with a mixed expression, causing you to giggle and wave. 

   “You like him,” Lyana sang by your side, tugging on your dress. “I think it’s cute. You can’t stop looking at him with googly eyes.” 

   “Don’t act like this wasn’t part of your plan, squid,” you huffed, earning a giggle. “You and Omega don’t exactly look as innocent as you think you do.” 

   “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she sang, taking your hand and squeezing it with a hopeful gaze. “Do you want to dance with me?”

  “How could I ever say no to you? Lead the way, squid.” 

   And lead the way, she did. Lyana pulled you into the circle right alongside Omega and Hunter, swinging you into a spin the moment she had a grip on both of your hands. You spun and spun with her, laughing alongside her giggles, cheering when everyone clapped in unison. Out of the corner of your eye,  you caught a few glimpses of Hunter and Omega. It wasn’t so much of a duo dance as it was Omega dancing while Hunter held her hands, occasionally spinning and hauling her up in the air just to hear her laugh. 

   All that mattered was that Hunter seemed to be enjoying himself. He didn’t have the same stress that you noticed in him earlier; no more tense muscles or furrowed expression. Peace sat in his eyes as he danced with the little blonde, living off of Omega’s happiness. 

   Lyana spun and spun you until suddenly, without warning, she let go of your hands, sending you stumbling into the person beside you. You went to apologize but stopped when Hunter’s familiar face looked down at you, his hands sprawled across the plain of your back to keep you upright as he held you in a dip. 

   Omega and Lyana both giggled as they began dancing together, acting as innocent as the little devils could. 

   “What did you say about not being clumsy?” He teased, causing you to flush with embarrassment. 

   “Second time's a charm?” 

   Hunter lifted you, taking your hand to guide you into a spin. He pulled you into him, bringing your back against his chest. 

   “Thank you,” he murmured against your ear, “Tonight’s been fun.” 

   “See?” You hummed, guiding him in a gentle sway from side to side. Almost instantly, the music softened and the upbeat tune became a gentle, harmonious song that eased a bit of peace through the energetic festival. “Can you feel that peace? That is the difference between living and surviving, and there’s so much more for you to experience, too.” 

   “Will you show me?” He asked, causing you to turn your head and give him a credulous smile.

   “Does this mean you’ve decided to stay on Pabu?” 

   “I think that’d be best for all of us.”

   “Then yes,” you agreed. “I’ll help as best as I can… but can I ask why me?”

   “Omega likes you,” he said with an audible smile on his lips, “And I… I trust you... so far.”

   “I’m honored,” you murmured, breaking into a giggle when he spun you around to face him. Your hands slid up and over his shoulders, interlocking behind his head. It was an involuntary gesture to look down at his lips but you couldn’t help it. 

   Hunter had this protective, genuine feeling that made you feel so safe near him. It was an odd thing to notice about someone when first meeting them, but it was only solidified when watching him and Omega. He had a specific gentleness that he kept reserved for her and now, as it seemed, for you as well. 

   What you didn’t expect, however, was for him to feel the same way as you. 

   “Was Lyana telling the truth earlier?” 

   “About what,” you murmured, forcing your gaze to go from his lips to his eyes. 

   “About a kiss being a gift.” 

   Your mind went blank. It took a moment before you nodded, finding the confidence to move your lips and speak. “She was.” 

   He guided you into another spin, gentler than before as he pulled you into his chest. “What does it mean?” 

   “It’s an invitation,” you explained softly. “A gift of vulnerability, as well as a promise. They aren’t given unless they are genuine — it means you find enough value in another person to give them your affection rather than an item. Kissing someone at the Giving Festival is typically a sign of courtship.” 

   “Courtship?” He questioned curiously. “You carry that tradition around here? Didn't take you for an old-school type of girl.” 

   “Well,” you sang, causing him to chuckle. “The elders call it that. I mean, it’s just dating among the younger generations.” 

   He hummed, slow movements swaying you to and fro. As he danced with you around the statue, passing the band that played their gentle tune, he noticed the beautiful flowers on the floor and stopped to pick one up. With gentle fingers, he tucked it behind your ear and gave you a small smile when he noticed how red your cheeks had become. Just like the flower in your hair.

   “Can I kiss you?” He asked gently, tucking away a strand of hair that fell in front of your face. 

   You tilted your head up to him, smiling to hide the fact that your heart was practically beating out of his chest.  

   “Yes,” you breathed, your stomach twisting with anticipation.

   His hand cupped the back of your head, the other gently resting against your back. Hunter pulled you close enough for your chests to touch before he lowered his head, lips skimming over your own. 

   “Are you certain about this?” You whispered against his lips. “You hardly know me.”  

   “I know enough to be certain I want to kiss you,” he hummed. “Are you?” 

   You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. 

   “Just kiss me, handsome,” you said with a smile. “We’ll figure out the rest later.” 

   He smiled as he kissed you, lips curled in amusement even after your lips collided. You couldn’t help but giggle against his mouth when his hand wove through your hair. It was an even bigger surprise when he dipped you, earning a few cheers and hoots of encouragement from those who stood by — including Omega and Lyana who seemed to be the loudest (and happiest) of the spectators. 

   When he pulled away, he never truly left. He kept his hand interwoven with yours, keeping you by his side as the dancing resumed and the festivities regained their upbeat tempo. Hunter pulled you out of the crowd and even though you didn’t return to the dance, the night continued with you showing him various different things throughout the market. From different juice stands to candies (which he denied rather quickly), you showed Hunter all that the market had to offer before stealing him away to show him the island itself. 

   While Omega and his brothers were distracted with the festival, you brought Hunter to the sandy shores. You removed your shoes and coaxed him to do the same before dragging him to the water. He cringed at how cold it was and stiffened when you splashed him, earning a glare that slowly turned into a smile when you turned to run away, laughing as loud and freely as one could. 

   And so the night continued — with music echoing from the city while water splashed and laughter bubbled from the sandy shores. The Giving Festival continued into the morning, and when Omega and Lyana tiredly returned home to find Hunter still missing, the two girls shared a knowing look that washed their fatigue away. They gossiped back and forth about you and Hunter, whispers turning into giggles that then turned into gasps when they realized that Hunter might, someday - possibly - plant roots on Pabu. 

   It occurred to Omega then, as she sat on the floor of Lyana’s bedroom surrounded by blankets and pillows and snacks, that the Giving Festival did, in fact, give her something. It wasn’t jewelry and it wasn’t candy, although she did hold every gift very close to her heart. It wasn’t Lyana and the new friends she’d made that night, including you and all the others she met.

   It was a new home — and that was the gift that Omega found herself cherishing the most. 

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(i'll be replying to comment reblogs in the comments of this post! just so that there isn't too much clutter on the dash 🫶🏼 a huge thank you to those who always have something nice to say about my writing. i might not always respond but please know that you all have my heart and my endless thanks for being so kind and encouraging. may the universe give back the same kindness you've given me, and i having nothing but love for you all!)

[lydiahosek]

[Image ID: A two-panel comic of Suki and Ty Lee from Avatar: The Last Airbender as young adults in a modern office setting. The comic is sketched in pencil except for the words, which are written in pen. In the first panel, Suki and Ty Lee are standing at a desk, on which is a vase of flowers. Suki takes a card off of the vase and says, "Every Monday when I show up to work, a bouquet of flowers is waiting on my desk with a note from a 'secret admirer.' It's been going on for three years." Ty Lee says "Wooooooooooow! That's a lot of secret admirers! But what does Sokka think???" In the second panel, Suki smiles widely at the card and says "He thinks I still don't recognize his handwriting." /.End ID]

Well does he leave a little note to tell you you are on his mind?

Send you yellow flowers when the sky is grey? Heyyy!

He'll find a new way to show you

A little bit every day

That's how you know

That's how you know he's your love!

Sukka Week Wild Card: Any WIP You Already Have

Based on this post from @boomerangguy. I'll add a link to the final product when it's done and posted (and the flowers are actually yellow!).

[EDIT: Here it is!]

Prompts by @sukka-week

"That's How You Know" by Stephen Schwartz and Alan Menken

Thank you to our host and all participants for another successful Sukka Week!

[princesssarisa]

Character ask: Eliza Doolittle & Henry Higgins (My Fair Lady)

Eliza Doolittle

Favorite thing about them: What a feisty, passionate, determined young woman she is. She stands up to her social "betters" even as a poor flower girl, seizes the chance to improve her life, clings to her integrity at all costs, and gains new inner strength and self-respect by the end of the story, no longer letting Higgins dominate her and standing on her own without him. (And IMHO, the musical's traditional ending where she goes back to him doesn't negate this: see "Unpopular opinion" below.)

Least favorite thing about them: In-universe, hmm... probably that she takes her anger at Higgins out on Freddy in the song "Show Me" (although it's a good song).

Out of universe, there's the fact that so many people seem to view her as a generic Cinderella-like ingénue who only exists as a prop for Higgins to play off of, and/or as a weak, spineless thing who falls in love with her abuser and is poised to be his "Stepford wife" in the end. How can they lack basic comprehension to see what a strong, dynamic character she really is?

Three things I have in common with them:

*I have brown hair.

*I love chocolate.

*I can't stand being treated unfairly.

Three things I don't have in common with them:

*I'm not a Cockney flower girl.

*I've never taken lessons in diction.

*I wouldn't shout a swear word at a race horse in public.

Favorite line:

Her entire story of how her father revived her diphtheria-stricken aunt by ladling gin down her throat.

Her resistance to the thought of marrying for money – seemingly her only option now that she's become too ladylike to rejoin the working class – implicitly likening it to prostitution:

"I sold flowers; I didn't sell myself. Now you've made a lady of me, I'm not fit to sell anything else."

At Mrs. Higgins's apartment:

"You see, Mrs. Higgins, apart from the things one can pick up, the difference between a lady and a flower girl is not how she behaves, but how she is treated. I shall always be a common flower girl to Professor Higgins, because he always treats me like a common flower girl, and always will. But I know that I shall always be a lady to Colonel Pickering, because he always treats me like a lady, and always will."

Her response to Higgins saying that she talks about him as if he were a "motor bus" when she says she won't be "passed over":

"So you are a motor bus! All bounce and go, and no consideration for anybody."

And this line from the original play Pygmalion:

 "If I can’t have kindness, I’ll have independence."

brOTP: Mrs. Higgins, Colonel Pickering (although he's also guilty of giving her no credit for her social triumph), and possibly Henry Higgins in the end, if you prefer a non-romantic interpretation.

OTP: Let the debates about who she belongs with rage on forever; I ship her with independence, self-respect, and any man she chooses.

nOTP: Her father Alfred.

Random headcanon: Her mother died when she was about seven or eight years old. Not in childbirth, because in Pygmalion she recalls watching her mother encourage Alfred's drinking because it made him more cheerful. Since then (or maybe starting earlier), she's had a long and fairly quick succession of "stepmothers"; the one Alfred finally marries is the seventh.

Unpopular opinion: In no version of My Fair Lady or Pygmalion – not Shaw's play, not the musical's original stage production, not the musical's film version, or any other version – has Eliza ever been just a "puppet' for Higgins to "puppeteer" or "clay" for him to "sculpt." I think it's nonsense whenever some critic describes her in that way and talks as if any attempt to portray her as a strong woman is a radical revision. Of course the differences between Pygmalion and My Fair Lady are partly to blame: from what I've read, Alan J. Lerner did consider Higgins the real central character, and so he lessened Shaw's original emphasis on Eliza's personal growth in favor of more emphasis on Higgins' arc. But whether in the play or the musical, Eliza is and has always been a feisty, strong-willed heroine who matures over the course of the story, and who can "do bloody well" without Higgins in the end. Even in versions where she ultimately goes back to him, she's not being "submissive," she just chooses on her own terms to give him a second chance.

Song I associate with them:

"Wouldn't It Be Loverly?"

"Just You Wait"

"The Rain in Spain"

"I Could Have Danced All Night"

"Show Me"

"Without You"

Favorite picture of them:

Julie Andrews in the original 1956 Broadway production:

Audrey Hepburn in the film version.

Melissa Errico in the 1993 Broadway revival.

Lauren Ambrose in the 2018 Broadway revival.

Amara Okereke in the 2022 London revival:

Henry Higgins

Favorite thing about them: His wit, his impressive intellect, his idealistic passion for the study of language, and the respect he gains for Eliza by the end.

Least favorite thing about them: His sexism, classism, self-absorbtion, and general mean streak.

Three things I have in common with them:

*I'm a nerd about the things I care about.

*I don't have high society manners.

*I have no desire to get married.

Three things I don't have in common with them:

*I've never studied phonetics.

*I'm usually humble and considerate of other people.

*I'm not a middle-aged British man.

Favorite line:

His response to Eliza's "Didn't I say that?" after she recites "The rain in Spain..." and he "corrects" her Cockney pronunciation:

"No, Eliza, you didn't 'sy' that, you didn't even 'say' that. Now every night before you get into bed, where you used to say your prayers, I want you to say "The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain" fifty times. You'll get much further with the Lord if you learn not to offend His ears."

His pep talk to Eliza where he shows her empathy for the first time and inspires her to finally recite "The rain in Spain..." correctly:

"Eliza, I know you’re tired. I know your head aches. I know your nerves are a raw as meat in a butcher’s window. But think what you’re trying to accomplish. Think what you’re dealing with. The majesty and grandeur of the English language. It’s the greatest possession we have. The noblest sentiments that ever flowed in the hearts of men are contained in its extraordinary, imaginative, and musical mixtures of sounds. That’s what you’ve set yourself to conquer, Eliza. And conquer it you will."

His famous response to Eliza's breakthrough:

"By George, she's got it! By George, she's got it!"

His philosophy of manners:

"You see, the great secret, Eliza, is not a question of good manners or bad manners, or any particular sort of manners, but having the same manner for all human souls. The question is not whether I treat you rudely, but whether you've ever heard me treat anyone else better."

His admiration of Eliza's newfound strength of character, even though it's directed against him:

"Eliza, you're magnificent. Five minutes ago, you were a millstone around my neck, and now you're a tower of strength, a consort battleship. I like you this way."

brOTP: Colonel Pickering, and possibly Eliza, if you prefer not to view the musical's ending as romantic.

OTP: Let people debate about whether he belongs with Eliza or not; I ship him chiefly with self-awareness and personal growth.

nOTP: His mother.

Random headcanon: He's on the autism spectrum. Many people have argued this already. His eccentricity, his hyperfixation on phonetics, his lack of the most basic social graces, his failure to connect with others emotionally or to realize how he comes across to them, and his tendency to act like a man-child despite his outstanding intellect (which in Pygmalion at least, he's aware of – at one point in the play, he admits that he's "never been able to feel really grown-up") can all be seen to point in this direction.

I'm not blaming autism for the worst of his flaws, though. I blame those on his upbringing. While Mrs. Higgins is likable in her disapproval of her son's bad manners and her affection and support for Eliza, I can imagine her being a bit like a female version of Jane Austen's Mr. Bennet when raising him: content to wryly complain about his behavior instead of teaching him to behave differently. And who knows what kind of man his late father was?

Unpopular opinion: I don't think this story's ending needs to be either "Eliza and Higgins are going to get married and live happily ever after" or "Eliza drops Higgins like a hot potato." Even in Shaw's "prose sequel" to Pygmalion, where he emphasized that Eliza will eventually marry Freddy and that Higgins would have made a terrible husband for her, he did write that she and Higgins will reconcile as friends (albeit bickering ones). The ending of My Fair Lady is ambiguous. Maybe Eliza and Higgins will become a couple, or maybe they'll just be friends, but what matters is that Higgins has realized Eliza's value, while Eliza doesn't need him anymore but chooses to forgive him, and their future relationship (whatever it will be) has the potential to be healthier and more equal than before.

Also, his final "Where the devil are my slippers?" can, and ideally should, be delivered as a self-deprecating joke.

Song I associate with them:

"Why Can't The English"

"I'm an Ordinary Man"

"A Hymn to Him"

"I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face"

Favorite picture of them:

Rex Harrison in the original Broadway production and the film version:

This painting of Richard Chamberlain on the poster for the 1993 Broadway revival:

Harry Haddon-Patton in the 2022 London revival:

[jadelotusflower]

2023 Roundup - books read

Fiction

The Neverending Story - Michael Ende (re-read)

The Heavens - Sandra Newman

Shadow and Bone - Leigh Bardugo

Siege and Storm - Leigh Bardugo

Ruin and Rising - Leigh Bardugo

Monkey - Wu Chen'en (translation: Arthur Waley)

A Thousand Ships - Natalie Haynes

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes - Suzanne Collins (re-read)

The Hunger Games - Suzanne Collins (re-read)

Catching Fire - Suzanne Collins (re-read)

Mockingjay - Suzanne Collins (re-read)

Non-Fiction

Madly, Deeply: The Alan Rickman Diaries - Alan Rickman

The Ninth Life of a Diamond Miner - Grace Tame

The Story of Alice: Lewis Carroll and the Secret History of Wonderland - Robert Douglas-Fairhurst

I'm Not Fine, Thanks - Wil Anderson

Finding Me - Viola Davis

Maybe I Don't Belong Here: A Memoir of Race, Identity, Breakdown, and Recovery - David Harewood

Ask a Historian: 50 Surprising Answers to Things You Always Wanted to Know - Greg Jenner

A Million Years in a Day: A Curious History of Daily Life - Greg Jenner

Legends of the Fire Spirits: Jinn and Genies from Arabia to Zanzibar - Robert Lebling

The Hero with a Thousand Faces - Joseph Campbell

The Heroine with 1001 Faces - Maria Tatar

Waxing On: The Karate Kid and Me - Ralph Macchio

The Novel Project: A Step-by-Step Guide to your Novel, Memoir or Biography - Graeme Simsion

Catch and Kill: Lies, Spies, and a Conspiracy to Protect Predators - Ronan Farrow

Pandora's Jar: Woman in the Greek Myths - Natalie Haynes

Killers of the Flower Moon: Oil, Money, Murder, and the birth of the FBI - David Grann

That makes 11 fiction and 16 non-fiction so 27 total.

I really didn't get to read as much as I wanted this year, but I did finally get around to the Shadow and Bone trilogy (and was surprised just how different the show ended up being to the third book especially) - the rest of the Grishaverse is on the to read list for 2024. After seeing The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes film (in contrast, a very faithful adaptation) I also revisited the books and do think they hold up as among the best of the YA genre.

It was the year of non-fiction for me, and really, the year of the memoir. I do love an actor's memoir in particular.

On the history front, Greg Jenner was a pleasing discovery, I do enjoy the irreverent tone and unique approach - I also recommend his history podcast You're Dead to Me.

On the true crime front, Catch and Kill was a hugely compelling (but confronting and infuriating) look back at Farrow's reporting of the Harvey Weinstein scandal, showing just how deeply the rot in the entertainment and media industry goes to foster and protect predators. Killers of the Flower Moon was an interesting read after seeing the film, although I was surprised at how much the book focused on Tom White and played as a whodunnit as opposed to the film's reframing of the story.

As for my one true love, myth and legend, I've gone back to Campbell as it's a foundational (if problematic) work before exploring alternate takes - The Heroine with 1001 Faces had some interesting ideas about the role of female archetypes in fiction, and Pandora's Jar was a compelling examination on the women in Greek myth specifically. That made be seek out Haynes's fiction work A Thousand Ships which explores the aftermath of the Trojan War from the female perspective and while I enjoyed that overall, it didn't quite hit the heights I wanted it to. Still, her novel about Medusa is on the to-read list.

Pretty much everyone I know bought me books for Christmas this year, so here's to a productive 2024!

[alanflowerspersonalblog]

[ 2012 Jacksonville, FL ]

[alanflowersproductionsblog]

[ 2023 Manhattan, NY ]

[my-km-me]

The Game Awards rankings from Most to Least Deserved

Game of the Year

Baldur's Gate 3

Honorary Mention #1: Armored Core VI: Fires of Rubicon

Honorary Mention #2: Remnant 2

Honorary Mention #3: Lies of P

Marvel's Spider-Man 2/The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom (Both are equally fantastic. Even if I prefer the above, I would be perfectly cool with either of them winning.)

Alan Wake 2

Super Mario Bros. Wonder (This game is good but be serious.)

Resident Evil 4 REmake (RE4 is an excellent game and this remake is no different. However, there's not enough distinction to warrant it hogging a spot this list. It already got its praise and attention when it came out. Let other games have their chance.)

Best Action/Adventure

The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom

Marvel's Spider-Man 2 (As much as I love me some Venom Spider-Man 2, there's no other game that embodies both Action AND Adventure than Zelda.)

Alan Wake 2

Star Wars Jedi: Survivor

Best Action

Armored Core VI: Fires of Rubicon (Though it was snubbed from GOTY, hopefully it gets its flowers here.)

Remnant 2 (ditto)

Hi-Fi Rush (While I personally wouldn't put it as my GOTY, I think it deserves it more than Mario and RE4.)

Ghostrunner 2

Dead Island 2

Best Adaptation

Castlevania: Nocturne is my favorite out of these choices right now. That said, depending on the writing in future episodes, that could soon change.

Honorary Mention: Five Nights at Freddy's movie (Makes 0 sense for the snub. We all know y'all gonna give it to TLOU anyway. It's not like our votes matter.)

The Last of Us show (Outside fnaf, probably most deserving ngl)

Super Mario Bros. Movie (very fun movie)

Gran Turismo movie (amazing visuals)

Twisted Metal show

Best Family Game

Super Mario Bros. Wonder (My gripes with it being GOTY nominee aside, it's still a great game.)

Pikmin 4 (great)

Sonic Superstars

Best Fighting

Street Fighter 6 (sweeps)

Mortal Kombat 1

Nickelodeon All-Star Brawl 2

Best Mobile

Hello Kitty Island Adventure

Didn't play the rest, but I do like Hello Kitty Island Adventure

Best Performance

Honorary Mention: Tony Todd was robbed. He's absolutely the best Venom voice actor. He would be my favorite performer of the year.

(Incidentally, can we have Robert Englund as Carnage?)

The rest on this list are all equally great. Don't have a preference.

GOTY aside, Charles Martinet should host this particular award.

Best RPG

Baldur's Gate 3

Lies of P

Honorary Mention: Hogwarts Legacy (If you, along with the gaming media, are perfectly fine/tolerant with Zionists, racially insensitive games ((or sell their products off of racist imagery)), millions of games with white protagonists killing black/brown people ad nauseum, games that exploit heavy misogyny ((bonus points if they casually use rape or domestic violence)), etc. being nominated; you should have no issue with this game.)

Final Fantasy XVI

Sea of Stars

Starfield

Most Anticipated

Like A Dragon: Infinite Wealth

Final Fantasy VII Rebirth

Hades 2

Star Wars Outlaws

Tekken 8

Best Sim/Strategy

Pikmin 4 (only great game)

Fire Emblem Engage

Cities: Skyline 2

Company of Heroes 3

Advance 1+2

[scotianostra]

Happy 64th Birthday Brian Alexander "B. A." Robertson, born September 12th 1956.

Robertson was born and raised in Glasgow attending the former Allan Glen's School, Glasgow,[and the Royal Scottish Academy of Music & Drama. He recorded his first album "Wringing Applause", for Ardent Records in 1973. It enjoyed modest critical acclaim, and a nomination in Down Beat Magazine's year end poll. He made four further albums, but had little commercial success.

During these years, he combined his career as an artist in a writing and production partnership with bassist Herbie Flowers. BA wrote and produced with Herbie, and worked with an eclectic crowd, including Lionel Bart, Joe Brown, Jim Cregan, Ray Cooper, Micky Dolenz, Gillian Gregory, Georg Kajanus, Harry Nilsson, Phil Pickett, Annie Ross, Sandie Shaw, and Chris Spedding.

He made his first television appearance with Steve Harley & Cockney Rebel (1976), played piano on the B side of "Come Up And See Me Make Me Smile".

Before finding fame in his own right B A teamed up with guitarist Terry Britten and wrote over 20 worldwide hits, the pick of them for Cliff Richard, the songs Carrie and Wired for Sound, the latter was nominated Ivor Novello Song of the Year in 1981.

It was around the same time his singing career took off. He enjoyed chart success in Europe, with six hit singles as an artist. The first, "Bang Bang", achieved sales over 1 million, the last Flight 19, in 1982, a #1 in Iceland! This track inspired a ground breaking music video directed by Brian Grant. BA was nominated Ivor Novello Songwriter of the Year 1980, UK Male Vocalist, Daily Mirror Rock & Pop Awards 1980, JVC Scottish Musician of the Year 1982. He recorded with Maggie Bell in 1982, Frida from Abba, 83, and Lulu in 84.

As well as appearing in concert, he also featured on radio and television. Was a frequent guest broadcaster for the BBC, from 1980 to 1985. Hosted his own music series "BA In Music". In 1986 he was commissioned to compose the music for The Commonwealth Games in Edinburgh. He has written more than 30 themes, songs, and scores, for film, television and special events. These include "The Other Side of The World" by Chaka Khan for the motion picture "White Nights", music for one of the UK's longest running talk shows "Wogan", and "We Have A Dream" for Scotland's World Cup Football Squad of 1982.

Throughout the 80's and 90's he continued to write and work in the studio with another diverse group, including Sam Brown, Roger Daltrey, Lonnie Donegan, Dave Edmunds, Bernard Edwards, Peter Frampton, Alan Gorrie, John Jarvis, Maz + Kilgore, Joe Sample, Helena Springs, and Andy Taylor (Duran Duran).

He met Genesis guitarist Mike Rutherford in 1985, and began a second long term writing collaboration. He introduced Paul Carrack to the embryo Mike & The Mechanics. As writer and musician, he featured on six of their studio albums. Wrote their first hit single "Silent Running", Billboard's number 1 Rock Song of 1986, and the international success, "The Living Years". This most celebrated of his lyrics written when his father died twelve weeks before the birth of his son.

At the 1990 Grammy Awards, "The Living Years" had four nominations, including Song of the Year. BA was pipped for the statuettes by good friend Arif Mardin and "The Wind Beneath My Wings". In London, at The Ivor Novellos, 'The Living Years' topped 1991 Grammy winner "Another Day in Paradise" for Best Song.

He was invited to set up offices at The Walt Disney Studio, by Michael Eisner, and Jeffrey Katzenburg. BA moved with his family to Los Angeles. He remained a feature on the lot for over three years. Was Creator, and Producer of Grammy nominated, multi-platinum, music video, "Simply Mad About The Mouse". Artists include Harry Connick Jnr., LL Cool J., Billy Joel, and Bobby McFerrin.

1991 saw "Silent Running" and "The Living Years", awarded "MillionAir" status by BMI, for more than one million broadcast performances in the US. "Silent Running" has now reached almost three million plays, and 'The Living Years' over four.

From 1993 through 1995, he put together, "With Your Hand on My Heart" for Patti LaBelle and Michael Crawford. Michael's album had a double Grammy nomination and world wide sales of more than 2 million. Wrote music for "Baywatch", the world's most popular television show and collaborated on a musical with Burt Bacharach.

He continued to work with Mike & The Mechanics, had six songs in the "Beggar On A Beach of Gold" project including the title song, and another six on their, multi-platinum CD, "Hits". He worked as writer, and musical associate to Phil Ramone on the stage production "EFX”, at the MGM Grand Las Vegas. The opening song "Somewhere in Time”, a collaboration with John Barry.

For the past 20 years or so Robertson has lived in Ireland, continually working on various projects he is still in high demand, Over the years, B A has accumulated more than 70 silver, gold, and platinum record awards. He lives with his wife, designer Karen Manners, they have two adult children.

I've chosen this song because it is my favourite Scottish World goal offering, remember, if you are old enough, four years previously, Andy Cameron proclaimed, We're Going to WIN the world Cup, by the time 1982 came B A Robertson knew that it was a dream. Oh I must add, the last World Cup Scotland was in 1998, and the much more realistic song was by Del Amitri, and calle Don't come home too soon, which as always we did, failing to get beyond the first stages yet again

[voxvulgi]

@ jacqueline, adonis and damian:

*hands a polaroid camera to each* "Take 5 pictures that you want to remember forever."

ooohhh that is so interesting! i have no idea who you could be, anon, but i definitely owe you for this thought-provoking-af ask. IT’S GONNA HURT 👀 (update: i think it's you @iincantatorum bc who else has thoughts that are THIS DEEP?)

Jacqueline will take pictures of the following:

Alan chilling. Not trying to comfort anyone or doing homework or chores. Just sitting, maybe with a bowl of popcorn and watching a movie. She wants to remember that she lives in a world where the one person who cares for her most can be safe and happy.

Herself in the mirror after having done her making and looking hot as hell. Deep down, she believes there are VERY FEW positive things about her (like her looks), and she wants to remember those things forever bc every day is a war against her self-worth

Her friend group. Instead of just Alan by himself, she’ll take a picture of the entire friend group (with Alan, Jolie, and Edward). She’ll want to be in that picture. She wants to remember forever that she was loved -- or at least, tolerated.

Herself in a saree. She loves how majestic sarees are, how their colours complement her complexion, and how much they piss off her father.

Edward's uncle's restaurant. That's where she had some of the best times of her life with her friends.

Adonis will take pictures of the following:

a) His nieces. Alexander’s daughters, Emma and Lily. He loves them to death, and they love him back. He wants to keep their memory in case he can never have a family of his own. OR b) He’ll take a picture of his daughter, Pearl. That’s a no-brainer. She’s EVERYTHING to him, and it’s not like he could ever forget her, but he wants to immortalize her in any way he could.

The grand piano at his parents’ home in Birmingham. That instrument was what gave him the most joy growing up.

A standing ovation at a theatre. That's a reminder that humans do ultimately celebrate feelings, art, and to an extent...tragedy.

A bouquet of flowers. Sometimes, love dies. Flowers certainly die. But hopefully, this picture won't. And maybe if nobody ever buys Adonis flowers, he'll have this photo to keep him company.

A hickey on his own body -- probably the result of a one night stand. It reminds Adonis that his body is touchable, that he is desirable, and that even if his heart gets too much, his flesh is just enough.

Damian will take pictures of the following:

The bit of land or new building in Ukraine where his childhood home used to be. If he could only go back in time, he would take a picture of his actual home. But alas...

His family’s gravestones -- if they have any. If he could even find where they were buried. But of course, he wouldn’t just take gloomy pictures of gravestones. He would buy flowers for his mother, his father, and his sister to place on their graves. He would try to make it as comforting as possible even though he can only ever feel pain when he reflects on how his immortality caused him to outlive them.

His first lover’s lavish home in Russia. It was turned into a museum after Aleksandr’s death, not demolished like Damian’s childhood home. If he could take a picture of only one scene, it would be the bedroom.

His almost-father-in-law’s home in Ireland. The man is still alive, so Damian would love for the picture to be taken of both of them in front of the home. Maybe in the backyard, where the house would be visible behind them and they could stand next to the tree that was planted from Kier’s remains.

Bella lounging in the sun. He knows she’s going to die very soon; a cat’s lifespan is nothing compared to his. But watching her relax in a spot of sunlight by his window always reminds him that appreciating the present is both more delightful and productive than worrying about the future.

[merlinband-archive]

Discography

Merlin (1974)

Released October 25, 1974

(Photos of the album from my collection)

Sleeve Design: Roslav Szaybo Photography: Joe Gaffney

Produced by Roger Greenaway for Cookaway Production Ltd. Engineers: Geoff Emerick/Peter Henderson Studio: A.I.R. (London) Ltd. No. 1 Mastered: Arun Chakraverty, CBS Studio

Merlin Personnel: Alan Love - Vocals Jamie Moses - Lead Guitar/Vocals Bob (Scully) Webb - Keyboard/Guitar/Vocals Dave Whitwhick [sic] - Drums/Vocals Paul Taylor - Bass Guitar

Side One

Space Raider (Love/Hardwicke) 5:22

Takin' Part (R. Webb) 4:25

Gettin' Involved (Love/Hardwicke) 2:50

Gypsy (J. Moses) 3:36

He Thinks About You All The Time (J. Moses) 3:40

Side Two

Look At Life (R. Cook) 4:22

Marina (R. Webb) 3:47

Sweet Sweet Cheatin' Rita (Stephens/Greenaway) 4:07

Alright (R. Cook/H. Flowers) 3:38

(Let Me) Put My Spell On You (R. Greenaway/T. Macaulay) 3:24

Wild Cat (H. Barter/R. Barter) 2:36

Single Releases

"(Let Me) Put My Spell On You" b/w "Just Another Fish On My Hook" - Released March 1, 1974

"Alright” b/w “Pictures In My Mind” - Released June 28, 1974

“Wild Cat” b/w “Half A Man” - Released November 1, 1974

"What A Funny Way To Fall In Love" b/w "Rock and Roll Express" - Released February 14, 1975

"Too Too Much" b/w "Gettin' Involved" - Released July 18, 1975 (as 'Alan Love & Merlin')

[sahmandbean]

How to Build a Ranch Home in The Sims 4 Like a Nerd

Ah, the Ranch. The Ranch is as American as Apple Pie... kinda. More on that in a minute. If you are looking for the perfect one-level family home that is beginner friendly, wildly customizable, and nearly everyone has lived in at some point, this is the build for you. Let's build!

If you prefer video tutorials, you can find that here.

The Ranch home originated in the American Southwest in the early 20th century, descended from styles like the Spanish Colonial, and started its spread across the states in the 1940s. Most have basements, where climate allows. This style is extremely versatile, which explains its popularity, and it was featured in popular at the time Western films, so it’s basically a movie star. This house can be anywhere, any size, and is as American as apple pie. (Apple pie was actually invented in England in the 1380s and wasn’t popularized in America until WWII, which is actually like the Ranch.) Anyway, although there are five subtypes of Ranch homes, they all have a few things in common: one story, although finished basements really add to the living area; open floor plans; low roofs; porches at front and back; family-oriented living; and are fairly simple shape-wise. One last fun fact: the main reason these homes took off was due to WWII vets receiving home loans upon returning to the states had few options, thanks to the Great Depression, and opted to have simple and stable Ranch style homes built. Alan Hess, author of The Ranch House, said “While architects in Western Europe and the Soviet Union met the need by building high-rise-apartment blocks, Americans created a consumer product that people wanted to buy. And that was the ranch-style house. It deserves respect because it solved the housing crisis of America in the midcentury.”

Floorplan

You will enter into the main living space, which has the living room at the front and the kitchen at the back. Of course, there have been many modifications and adaptations over the years, but this is Building like a Nerd so we stick with as original information as possible. The backyard-facing kitchen allowed the hardworking mother a clear view of her children as they played in the large backyard. Most bedrooms will be on the main floor, although some can be added to the basement if you have one. The overall footprint will be a rectangle, with front facing bump-outs on the left, right, or both sides. These homes were created with family life in mind, so a large deck and multiple child bedrooms are very common.

Exterior

The siding will be brick, siding, stucco, or some combination. This is a great build to use the wallpaper options that have automatic columns on the corners because it is so simple you likely won't have any issues with angles and whatever else it is that bugs them out. A garage is pretty key, but you can always use it as a gym or office space since we don't have cars...

You have a lot of freedom when it comes to landscaping. Simple suburban classics like a couple of hedges and hydrangeas are as applicable as a full fledged flower bed.

Interior

Because this home was so heavily featured in Western movies at the time of their initial construction, homes across the nation adopted the Western décor style. Patterned wallpapers, wood, paneling, iron decorative elements, and so on were incredibly common. The kitchen would be large enough for one or two people to cook together comfortably, with an island or table nearby for easy homework supervision. Bathrooms will be plentiful, as this is a new enough style that indoor plumbing was a major consideration.

If you want to bring the Ranch into the 21st century, try these tips:

Replace all that wallpaper with some nice, plain, neutral paint

Instead of having siding and brick on the same wall section, break it up to have only siding on some parts and only brick on others (or stucco or stone or whatever else you are using; they ain't picky).

Update cabinets and bathroom fixtures.

If you would like to check out my build, it is on the gallery. My ID is sahmandbean and the lot title is Ranch Suburban Shell.

If you want to learn more, you can find all my resources in this Pinterest board.

You can find the full original video tutorial here.

Thanks so much for building with me today! I developed such a new respect for the Ranch home when I researched all of this, and all of those random western wallpapers suddenly make sense.