#and it's interesting as hell to me to play with. in what contexts would van NOT trust lottie

[novelconcepts]

One of the most fundamentally interesting things to me about YJ and writing fic, specifically, is how the blame changes hands depending on the story. On whose perspective you're writing from. On whose story it is at a given moment. The very thing I dislike about viewers missing the point becomes so fascinating to me from within the narrative. Who are these characters when seen through the eyes of their peers?

Who does Jackie become? If you're Shauna, she's the love of your life, and your greatest rival, and the other half of your soul, and the person you blame for your dead dreams. If you're Van, she's the respected captain who earns none of your respect in the woods, the one who left you to die without blinking, the easiest target for teenage malice. If you're Natalie, she's competition for affection, the blabbermouth who can't leave well enough alone, the hands putting themselves to no good use. If you're Jackie? You're just a girl. You're so tired. You're so scared. You're losing face a little more every day, and you're made of despair, and you can't even trust your best friend. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault.

Who does Lottie become? If you're Natalie, she's your direct foil, the splinter under the edge of your thumbnail, the smart mouth to match your own, the confusing amalgamation of normal friend and mad ritual. If you're Misty, she's the first shred of obvious power in months, a leader who might need to be nudged back into line, a fascinating exercise in hitching your wagon to the right star early on. If you're Taissa, she's flat-nuts and endlessly frustrating, she's got your girlfriend's full attention, she's incredibly dangerous. If you're Lottie? You're just a girl. You're so tired. You're so scared. You've built a pedestal you can't keep your balance on, and you're not sure if you're right or going crazy, and you didn't want this. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault.

From outside the narrative, there is no bad guy. There is no blame. It is no one's fault. It is Man v. Nature, they are doing the best they can with an impossible situation. They're all trying to contribute what they can to the story, for better or worse.

From inside the narrative, you are a teenager trapped in a society constructed entirely of bare-bones-survival with the wildest assortment of girls. From inside the narrative, to stay human, you have to love and fight, respect and judge. Every story changes the game. Every story shifts the blame. A hero in one has the bloodiest hands in the next. And that, to me, is such a thrilling sandbox to play in.

[heavenlymorals]

Susan Grimshaw - A Small Deep dive Into A Complicated Woman

(Warning: This post contains mentions of period typical sexism and gender roles, as well as spoilers for RDR2)

Susan Grimshaw is one of the most interesting characters in the Van Der Linde gang and perhaps one of the most mischaracterized as well. She is either this beloved tough mother caricature or a deplorable hag more reminiscent of Cinderella's step mother than any true matriarch.

Today, though, I want to go into a little cultural deep dive regarding Miss Grimshaw. I want to explore the cultural significance of her character and how she's sadly a representation of the affects of misogyny and how it could affect a woman.

And for context, I come from a culture that still operates under many of the gender roles that 1899 America followed so all the stuff I'm gonna talk about are all things I've seen and/or experienced in my life time.

Grimshaw seems to me like a woman who is trying to compensate. What do I mean by this? Simple. What I mean is that in such a male dominated society that expected women to adhere to their standards, the fact that Susan Grimshaw wasn't able to is a source of insecurity for her, which then makes her lash out on the other girls of the camp.

Whether consciously or unconsciously, she heavily values male praise and authority. She is generally sweet and playful with Arthur, giving the vibe of that mother that we all seem to love so much, but with the girls, she's hell incarnate.

The second we get into Horseshoe Overlook, she talks to Arthur on how they got his tent ready and then tells Dutch and Hosea they would be ready shortly. The second we get into Horseshoe Overlook, she tells Tilly: "Miss Jackson, I've seen shit with more common sense than you, do it properly!". That one scene shows or gives an idea of how she is with the men vs how she is with the women.

She is awful to the girls. She reminds me a lot of mothers who are sweet and even servant-like to their sons and who view their daughters as competition, thus are harder and horrible to them (to my fellow Arab girlies, you know how it is. It sucks).

She never lets them rest and always gets on them for working the "wrong" way. That's pretty damn demoralizing. She berates them, calls them whores, and even physically assaults them. She even complains that she hates how Dutch won't allow her to whip them. And here's the thing, you can't even cite historical attitude with her behavior because even back then, abusive mistresses were criticised and seen in a bad light.

One of the most vile things she's ever done is try to pressure Abigail into prostitution again, even though she knows that Abigail is a mother and never wants to do that again, threatening her by telling her that she'd bring the matter up to Dutch even if Dutch himself never wanted her to do any of that.

But that behavior stems from her own insecurity of not hitting the milestones that women were expected to reach at that point.

She isn't married, nor was married, and a woman's identity of marriage was such a big thing back then that Grimshaw tries to cope with it by being decent with the men or accepting their flattery. She gets interested in Micah before he makes fun of her for being an older woman. She was willing to go out with Uncle before he asks her for money. She is fond of Dutch and still talks about when they were together sometimes and doesn't dare berate Molly because she's Dutch's girl. She even ignores the girls when they are doing something not work wise with the men- probably to please the man.

Tilly mentions this. "If I'm playing with you, she'll leave me alone."

But no one wants her and that then makes her lash out. She bullies Mary Beth on how she's too vain and that her beauty will go away, just like it "went away for her" and that what's left is awful. Like that such a sad mindset but in the time period she lived in, it makes sense. Women were usually married off by their early twenties due to their youth and vigor and beauty was perhaps the most important part of a woman because it's the only area where she is respected and that fucking sucks (note how many myth/historical women are praised almost only for their beauty). As women grew older, they'd become less desirable to the male dominant society, thus they would be shamed and humiliated. This even happens to Bonnie McFarlane in RDR1 in the newspapers when she's only in her late twenties, but because she isn't married, she gets shamed.

Grimshaw feels insecure about these aspects of her, of her looks, of her age, and that makes her lash out on the other women of the camp because they are young and beautiful. It makes her feel like she has a power that she lost by being a 50+ year old woman with nothing to her name.

So to compensate and to show her "value" as a woman, she works and works and works to dignify Dutch's camp because in that aspect of her life, she doesn't need to worry about her insecurities.

Yes. Grimshaw cares for the girls, and she'll scrap for all of them, but that doesn't mean she isn't a problematic and toxic person. It's sad that she feels like she needs to do all that for male approval in a male dominant society but good God, man. Again, she's literally that mother who feels threatened by her daughter and competes with her but treats her son like a prince, even if she still loves her daughter.

Yea, she helped save Tilly and pointed her gun at Micah in the end, but that doesn't mean she's just this "tough" mother figure. No. She's mean and toxic and awful and all of that is because of misogyny and how it feeds into her own insecurities as an older woman.

It's fucking sad.

[grison-in-space]

I mean, what gets me about the idea of shorter time limits is, like... Benton has been taking agility classes for two years, right? He is not trial ready and may never be, but he is also generally not interested in moving faster than a trot and is suspicious of distance work as a concept. When he gets something down, he is ROCK solid on it, but he takes a very long time to get there.

Benton is four now. At this rate, he might be ready to trial sometime around six or seven. (With much love to him, his handler (my spouse) is not the problem—he's a very anxious dog who appears to mostly, under the anxiety, just want to cuddle people and nap.) He seems to enjoy the attention, the practice, and the work, so they're plugging along and working together, but he's not... good. at it. For context, Benton broke into a canter during class for the first time ever about three weeks ago. He's been in that class since August 2022. The entire room cheered so hard he got startled and dropped back again into a trot.

But given that we are full up in the inn for dogs, that Tribble is thirteen and sundowning pretty badly, and that Matilda's my sport dog prospect, that means that spouse is a little resigned to their "sport dog" being a bit of a semi-functional panel-van situation. (He is so very, very loved. He's just not naturally good at the parts where he does complex movements and maybe has to move, even in directions away from his handler.)

So okay, say Benton gets good enough to do some lower level trialing. He won't go above his very collected, extremely prancy excited trot, so he's slowly and with maximum vertical movement traversing the course. He's technically correct, never misses the mark, never hits an obstacle or fails to hit his contacts. He's just slow as all hell.

I think that should be fine Q! I think the system of Qs is attractive as a recreational dog sport player! I don't understand why that would need changing or whether I've historically misunderstood something or what, but, like...

We're not all out here playing with the speed demon collies that rocket around a course if you can control them enough to steer. It.... seems a bit short sighted with respect to long term sportsmanship and developing the sport as a whole to exclude people who can't or won't change the dogs they keep to maintain it, you know?

Mmmmm saw more discussion today about shortening agility course times.

I don't think agility should only be for the fastest dogs. If you just care about Dog Go Fast maybe do lure coursing? Flyball?

I know some dogs who basically walk agility courses but still seem to be enjoying it. Maybe those dogs aren't going to compete. But actually ... Why can't they? You know what, don't shorten course times. Add a category for the super slow dogs or something. Fuck it. Make those Border Collie people shut the fuck up and have to watch my Rottweiler student amble through a course in 5 whole minutes. Why not?

Some dogs are young and fit and motivated and just fucking slow.

[vizowrites]

My BlitzStrike Twins: Headcanons and Shenanigans~ [probably with a bit of my M&M kids thrown in just for fun]

So today I got a couple of fantastic asks about Blitz and Striker as parents, and since there seemed to be a pretty positive response to them--and because @helluva-simp​ is amazing and encouraged me to be brave enough to write this up--I thought I’d go ahead and make a full post of my headcanons for these two little devils.  I really do love the hell out of them and hope you guys enjoy hearing about them too!!  <3 <3

Twist’s and Ty’s full names are Twister and Typhoon but literally nobody calls them by their full names ever so they like to make the joke of “the ‘-er’ and the ‘-phoon’ are silent”

Ty is actually the older of the two [though not by much] but everyone thinks that Twist is because his name is always called first.  It’s always “Twist and Ty” [or just collectively “Twist-Ty”] instead of “Ty and Twist”.  Ty honestly doesn’t mind that much as far as following after his brother goes, just don’t make the mistake of trying to label him as the younger of the two.  There are a lot of things Ty’s perfectly content to let Twist take the lead in, but having the title of “the older twin” is just going too far.

Twist and Ty are mirror twins, meaning that they’re mostly identical except for a few key things: 1. Twist is left handed and Ty is right handed, 2. they both have heterochromia but Twist’s eyes are Left: Red | Right: Green-Gold whereas Ty’s eyes are Left: Green-Gold | Right: Red, 3. Twist has a birthmark on his right hand and Ty has his birthmark on his left hand--and yes when you put the two marks together, they form a design not unlike the heart shaped one on Blitz’s forehead :) 

Both of the twins are incredibly agile, but Twist is faster and Ty is more flexible

Striker affectionately calls Twist “Whirlwind” because of said fastness

Blitz affectionately calls Ty “Noodle” because of said flexibility

.....Though it should be noted that it’s not all fun and games because Twist is CONSTANTLY crashing into things or tripping over his own two feet from going too fast, and Ty is so flexible that he’s able to contort himself into positions that honestly make both of his parents throw up a little in their mouths with the split-second panic of “OH GOD OUR BABY WAS BORN WITHOUT BONES!!”  DX DX  They’re both usually just fine tho!!  :D

As noted in an earlier post--but I want to say it here too--Twist’s first word was “Bang!” and Ty’s first word was “Fuck!”  Twist was the first one to talk, though, and it made Striker and Blitz second guess the context of his first word by the time Ty said his. XD

Another thing that was noted in another post but I want to put it here too is that Twist and Ty have incredibly high self esteem and both Striker and Blitz wouldn’t have it any other way

Twist is dyslexic and so gets easily frustrated when he has to read a book, but he love love LOVES the hell out of stories.....and so Ty is almost constantly making up random stories to tell him

This actually also works out well in Ty’s favor because Ty’s attention span is about as short as Blitz’s patience and he has a lot more fun telling stories than he does sitting still long enough to read the ones that other people made up unless it’s a book about something he’s reeeeeeally interested in

It’s also made Ty hella good at bullshitting on the fly, which I think most of the older/adult members of his family wish he was a lot less convincing at

Twist knows how to lie and is a natural at acting, but his flair for the over-dramatics tends to give him a way a lot easier than his twin

They both have what I’m calling a “hierarchy of obedience” within their family which really translates into a range of “eh I can think about maybe listening to this person sometimes” to “oh SHIT I need to listen to this person 5 fucking minutes ago”.  For Twist, his hierarchy of obedience is: Millie --> Blitz --> Striker --> Loona --> Moxxie.  For Ty, his hierarchy of obedience is: Loona --> Millie --> Blitz --> Striker.....and Moxxie doesn’t even make the list for him because honestly I’m pretty sure Ty just naturally tunes him out most of the time and not even fully on purpose.  As he puts it: “You just have one of those voices”. XD

Ty can sleep literally anywhere and on anything.  I’m pretty sure there have been mornings where Blitz and Striker have to play the game of 'Where the hell is my kid??' because they THOUGHT that he went to sleep in his bed like their other child did but NOPE they go into their room in the morning to get them out of bed and are just like, “.....Twist where the hell is your brother??” and Twist just gives an innocent shrug and says, “I don’t know--probably on the roof or something.” u3u and goes out into the kitchen to make himself breakfast--and then two seconds later Blitz and Striker hear him calling out “NEVER MIND!  HE’S IN THE OVEN!!” and that starts off a whole new kind of panic because they know damn well that Twist’s favorite thing to have for breakfast is cinnamon rolls XD

Twist’s laughter is infectious--this really cute witch-like cackling that just bubbles out of him in the most adorably genuine way when he’s that delighted about someting

Ty does this adorable thing where--when he sticks his tongue out at someone--he flicks it in a very snake-like fashion and even gives the tiniest of hisses in lieu of a raspberry when he does it

Ty also manages to twist himself into the most uncomfortable-looking positions when he sleeps but rest assured, he’s never been more comfy

Twist’s tail never stays still.  It is constaintly flicking to and fro, back and forth, swishing and swirling like a cat’s tail, and he loves flicking it in front of people’s faces to get their attention

Twist in general doesn’t really stay still very often but the one time he did was when Ty broke his arm--and then he spent almost every moment of the day and night plastered to his side because he knew it was driving Ty crazy not being as mobile as he usually is while having to wear a cast

The twins really don’t ever go that far apart from each other.  If you look and only see the one, you can rest assured that the other one is around somewhere nearby and it’s probably not a good sign for you if you can only see the one.

Ty is much more of a biter when it comes to self-defense and Twist always goes straight to using his claws

Twist is the outwardly more protective twin and is vicious with his words when defending his brother.  He will force every last ounce of moisture out of your body from how hard he makes you cry.

Ty, on the other hand, will fuck you up hard physically if you try to hurt his twin--and Lucifer himself would not be able to save you if you actually do hurt his twin

As they get older, and their sexualities and gender develop and grow, Twist would discover that he’s a nonbinary he/they homosexual panromantic and Ty would discover that he’s a genderfluid he/she pansexual homoromantic

The above being said, both Twist and Ty wholeheartedly say “fuck you and your gender norms” from a very young age and well into their teenage and adult years, with Twist enjoying painting his nails and Ty carrying all of his stuff around in a purse--and they both have a preference for wearing high heeled shoes [Ty because he just likes being tall in general and Twist because he likes being specifically taller than his parents because it drives them crazy XD]

Twist and Ty’s best friend is “Missi” [Moxxie and Millie’s eldest daughter, Missile] and she’s honestly an absolute hero for putting up with as many of their shenanigans as she does

Whenever they go out on family outings, Twist is that kid who just NEVER wants to leave--and so Blitz usually, after spending ten minutes of trying to get him in the damn van and Striker even using his Dad Tone (TM) and that not working, will just be like, “Alright kiddo, I tried playing nice.  You asked for this.”  And he puts his fingers to his mouth and whistles with a, “Loona Sweetie?  Fetch.” >3 And Loona gets the BIGGEST grin on her face and Twist gets the biggest “oh shit I’m so fucking screwed” look on his face and Ty--who’s honestly probably very awkwardly coiled up in Striker’s arms because after a long day of family fun he’s tired af and decided that he doesn’t want to use his limbs anymore--just kind of looks over at his twin and says, “I believe in you, but also maybe try to run faster than last time” u3u

I think that they would both love their Auntie Barbie a lot and she would have soooooooo much fun teaching them different circus tricks--especially how to yeet each other back and forth on the trapeze XD

I also think that their Auntie Barbie would really love just how close they are.....and probably inspire her to make up for lost time in her relationship with her own twin too

For some reason I can’t shake the thought of the twins being great at acapella and I have no idea why but I’m also ttly here for it XD

In school, I feel like Twist’s favorite class would be Art [he loves to paint and happily makes all kinds of messes with his “expressing creativity”] and Ty’s favorite class would be P.E./Gym [because he loves testing the limits of his physical body]

Family game nights are always fun in their household because usually what happens is Twist and Ty team up against Blitz and Striker, and while they’re in the middle of duking it out, Loona ends up getting a monopoly on every street and is just like, “Pay up fuckers.” u3u

Moxxie and Millie both love and hate babysitting for the twins because on the one hand, they love them to pieces and love seeing how well they get along with their three kids, but on the other hand.....the twins keep finding Millie’s strap on and putting it on their middle child [Mark]’s head and calling him a “cockicorn” XD

Ty’s favorite food is ramen noodles and Twist spent three weeks [and probably set their kitchen on fire at least twice] learning how to make them with JUST the right flavor profile that he knows his brother likes the best

While I think both of the twins know that they can talk to their dads about anything, I think that they still keep their most personal thoughts reserved only to themselves and each other

Twist’s favorite type of weaponry tends to be more of the flashy ‘sharp and pointy’ kind whereas Ty’s favorite type of weaponry tends to be more of the aggressive ‘point and shoot’ kind.  However I honestly kind of think that in terms of what they’d use themselves in the field, Twist’s primary weapon of choice would be a whip [though he would definitely have some throwing knives and handheld revolvers in his back pocket too] and Ty’s primary weapon of choice is honestly poisons.  Assume that everything this kid has that he throws at you--be it a knife or a bullet or even a fucking cannonball--is poisoned somehow.

They both definitely play wrestle like Blitz and Barbie did as kids.....and just like Blitz and Barbie, they also get their horns tangled together more than once and need to have someone come rescue them.  There’s almost always a photo taken that gets posted to Voxtigram first tho. XD  

There are plenty more headcanons where this came from but I feel like this is already waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too fucking long so I’m going to go ahead and stop here for tonight!!  If you guys are interested in hearing more about these two, please please please feel free to let me know and I’d be happy to write up a Part 2 to this, or just overall write up a quick little oneshot with them in it, or if you want to send me specific questions about them that I can answer, feel free to do so!!  Thanks so much again and I hope you guys have as much fun reading these as I did writing them up!! <3 <3

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

Would you be interested in throwing some folks an Andercard shortfic with Alucard goading Anderson using poetry or holy verses taken out of context?

Sure! This probably isn’t the timbre of what you were thinking of, but I suddenly remembered the Old Testament quote in the Van Helsing flashback and had to use it. I love the subtle parallels drawn between him and Anderson throughout the series and wanted to play around with that a bit.

***

The vampire fell back, bloodied but hardly wounded. He played this game often: feigning injury or weakness when there hardly was any. Just another trick. Anderson lunged forward to grab him by the collar before he could move away.

Ordinarily there would be consequences for taking on Hellsing on their own turf. But with all the noise Millennium was causing, they couldn’t afford to turn their backs long enough to retaliate against Iscariot. Anderson didn’t care much for politics anyway.

All that mattered was this cool autumn night, the sky dark over England’s unfortunately ugly countryside, and the promise of righteous bloodshed. Anderson was most in his element acting as God’s Holy weapon. And there was nothing as satisfying or infuriating as fighting this vile creature.

He’d promised himself he’d end the vampire. And perhaps this would finally be the night. Leaving him alive over their last several encounters had eaten at him. Every hour of every day, he would think about him and rage.

Alucard’s grin was as mad as ever, wretched eyes bright and bloody, as he allowed himself to be half lifted from the ground. He stared Anderson down as the priest took another bayonet, poised to strike for his heart.

Anderson refused to pause, or question anomalies during the heat of battle. That was how you lost your advantage. That was how you gambled away lives, even if his own was never frequently in question. But there was a strange stillness in the vampire. And damn it all to hell, he must’ve hesitated, waiting for a reaction. Because the vampire began to laugh.

He continued laughing when the bayonet plunged into his chest. Blood spilled out of the wound in rivulets in time with his breaths; it shown black in the moonlight. “What’s the matter, Catholic? You’re awfully quiet. No threats? No scripture to quote at me?”

“You are not worthy of the words of the Lord. If I speak them, that is my worship. It is not for your sake, monster.” Anderson threw him to the ground again, his head cracking on hard stone.

Alucard’s gaze was strangely unfocused but his smile did not slip as he spoke, a strange rhythm to his voice that didn’t particularly match the way he usually spoke. “All flesh is grass. And all the cunningness thereof as the flower of the field. The grass withereth, the flower fadeth, but the word of our God abideth forever.” He spat out blood. “Go ahead. Strike your killing blow.”

“Gladly.”

“It will do nothing to me,” he said with strange bitterness. “You can take nothing from me.”

Anderson grit his teeth, bringing another bayonet down, aimed for the jugular. But as soon as the blade met flesh, the vampire dissolved into shadow. He was running away, Anderson realized.

Coward.

[ishouldbestudyingprobably]

Hey uh- could i request another barley x reader? the previous one was so cute! maybe some sort of date night one-shot? whatever you chose!❤️

Thank you so much for requesting!! I’m gonna become the CEO of Barley fanfics LOL! (I’d gratefully take that title tho)

To put you on a bit of context, this takes place AFTER the movie unlike my previous one-shot, of course I’ll try to keep it as spoiler free as possible considering the movie is going to come out to Disney + in just a few days and some of you haven’t seen it yet, but maybe I slip something so, please beware.

Also, I have been reading more fanfics in English recently and noticed they are written in a you-did-this-and-said-that way instead of how we do them in Spanish; I’ll be continuing to them in my way unless you guys tell me it annoys you or something.

WELL, SORRY FOR KEEPING YOU WAITING, LET’S GET TO IT! ALSO THIS IS SO LONG SORRY--

(Y/N) definitely had no idea how she ended up on the Lightfoot’s home. Now, listen, it’s not that she didn’t like them ‘cause she as hell did it was just confusing considering a few hours prior to that she was just walking around the neighborhood.

“Ian, come on! Show her your magic!” Barley was having a hard time since he was trying so hard to make his little brother show the girl how his magic worked and poor Ian was shy about it, sure his confidence had been boosted but, come on, that was way too much pressure.

“Barley it’s okay, really, I believe you. I bet it’s amazing and you guys make an incredible team together. Let Ian go.” the girl chuckled seeing as the smaller elf smiled thankful and made his way out of the room feeling relieved.

“What? No! Ian get back here!!” see, the boy with a cast on his arm was hoping to use his brother as an excuse to have the female the longest time possible by his side, he was definitely going to ask her on a date but needed that boost of confidence being in a room with people gave.

Although now that they were alone he wouldn’t lie saying it wasn’t enjoyable, but soon that intimate moment of piece was to be broken by the young girl standing up making the bed rigid on the side she had been sitting on.

“This was... fun. But I really should get going home, my family would be worried plus it’s lunch time and... You know.” (Y/N) tried to excuse herself as politely as possible seeing as how she didn’t want to give the impression she wasn’t having fun and didn’t enjoy the presence of the older son of the Lightfoot’s family. Barley soon realized he had to jump now and ask her out or he’d never get the chance to. “Would you like to meet me? Alone? Maybe drive around, have dinner...” the boy put on his widest smile as if that were going to make her accept his invitation.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait. Are you... Asking me out? On a date? Tonight?” the girl replied trying to hide her grin while putting a strand of her voluminous hair behind her pointy ear which had efficiently caught the male’s attention. “I wouldn’t call it a date, more like a quest to make you fall in love with me because I totally am and it would be pretty cool if you did as well? But, you could always call it a date, I wouldn’t correct you even though you’re completely wrong.” that was enough to make the small elf chuckle which made Barley’s heart skip a few beats.

“It’d be a pleasure to help you complete this quest oh-so-awesome Barley Lightfoot. How about 8? No need for formal clothes, quests don’t require suits or dresses.” now it was him who was chuckling, how couldn’t he? His friend had never ever ever played his favourite roleplaying game yet always tried her best to make as much references to it without completely failing at the process, it was adorable. “8 sounds amazing. Farewell, oh-so-cool-to-play-games (Y/N) (S/N).”

And so the time came and the bell started ringing; one, two, three, four times and just as the fifth was about to made itself present the girl rushed to the door “Okay, okay got it! I’m coming!” grabbing the door handle she opened it revealing the young elf wearing a suit -well, a modified one since the sleeves of his jacket were completely gone and decided to wear jeans with the suit, formal for sure- contrasting with her usual clothing. “We said no dressing up!” the boy just shrugged and clearing his throat he moved to the side revealing Guinevere 2 in all its glory. “Shall we get going?” the girl smiled and gladly accepted getting out and making sure to close the door.

They made their way to the van and Barley hurried to open the door of the passenger seat bowing as his friend got inside and closed the door trying -and failing- to hide his smile. As soon as they were both seated the boy opened her mouth and took a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “So, (Y/N)... I hope your ready for our quest because I’ve been planning this all day!” slowly the boy opened the folded paper showing a drawn map of different places in Mushroomton that he thought would be of interest and appropriate for a date surprising his companion in the process. “Did you realy do that? That’s so impressive…” the male just smiled and motioned for her to hold the map and turned on the engine.

“Now my incredible partner, tell me, which is the first stop?” he couldn’t help the excitement his tone glad everything was going according to plan at the moment.

“Uhm, well, the exciting-full-of-teenagers house of fun?” what kind of name was that? The drawing didn’t really gave much about the place either, not only because his art skills weren’t exactly… Clear?

But because he modified them to be fitting on the Quests of Yore world. “Heading there!” and just like that the car drive began. They both were constantly talking and joking, it may have been a date-quest thing but after all they were still friends, why would they be quiet?

When they finally arrived to the place she got out the car excited to see what it was about and found a luminous neon sign indicating the entry to the arcade.

“The arcade was the exciting-full-of-teenagers house?” again the elf just shrugged grinning which made the female roll her eyes. “Amazing! I’m actually thinking this is going to be the greatest day of my life…”

What can I say? Videogames were definitely something they both were extremely good at and that sparked a tiny competition between them. Driving games? You bet! That knock the clown game that’s always typically seen in carnivals at those cheesy romantic movies? Yup! In the end they decided to count the tickets each one got to decide a winner.

“I’ve got… 238 tickets, how about you, Lightfoot?” the boy didn’t seem happy and (Y/N) soon knew he was dreading his defeat. “I got 197....” mockery could be heard from the female’s lips before they cut off the rivalry and decided to combine both of their tickets getting 435 tickets which were enough for…

“A unicorn rubber?!” the girl sighed as they were gettin in the car again. “I hate this stupid games, they’re fun but you alway have to win around a billion tickets to actually WIN something.” she continued ranting, something Barley found really entertaining but cut her off mid sentence as they were running out of time. “When did you have to get home?” it effectively cut her off. There was a small silence

before she could respond “Around 10 I believe, you know how they are…” he just nodded and looked at his watch; it was 9:17 meaning they had to do a shortcut on their plans.

“Okay, we’re runnin out of time, skip the following two places and tell me the next one after them.” she did as asked and traced the drawn road with her fingers. “It says brainwash.” an odd name for sure.

“Brainwash it is.”

Of course, brainwash was referring to movies, they were going to watch a movie specifically a drive in movie, is there anything more romantic than that? No.

“Barley… This is so sweet, thank you! What movie are they playing?” turning her head towards the giggly boy she asked nothing but amusement in her face. “No idea. I’m gonna go grab popcorn, make yourself comfortable on top of Guinevere 2, please.” just like that he was gone and (Y/N) had a new adventure, finding the way she could get on the van’s roof.

After a while Barley got back with a huge stack of popcorn finding her loved one on the roof, smiling to himself he admired all of her features. Soon he got on top shaking the oh-so-special van on the process. “Here’s the popcoooorn!” he announced with an excited tone and put them between him and the girl.

The movie was ten minutes in and no noise was heard but the sound of chewing popcorn. Leaning in the female asked in the boy’s ear “Do you like this movie?” he replied in a whisper “No it’s so boring.” that’s when they both started laughing being shushed by the cars around them. “Let’s get out of here. We still have twenty minutes left.” Without bothering to take the popcorn they both walked north finding a calm forest where they laid on the grass looking at the sky. “So, Barley, is it true? That you like me?”

That was a very direct question he definitely wasn’t prepared for “Well, of course it is! You’re an incredible girl, an incredible friend and I bet you’d be an incredible girlfriend!” the girl chuckled making Barley’s heart melt. And then, he asked “Do you like me?”. Silence hurts, so much, but before any assumption could be made she replied “Yes, of course I do.”

Silence again.

“So, have you completed your quest now?” (Y/N) curiously asked. “I still have one more thing to do.” and, the kiss came.

QUEST COMPLETED.

Oh boy was that long... Hope you enjoyed your request and for everyone else, request! Don't be shy!

TAGLIST:

@ferox-imagines @s-ferox

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I thought about WandaVision

Y'know, it's kind of crazy to think that it's been over a year since we've been given any content involving the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Marvel Studios announced so many great movies, on top of new TV shows that actually impact the story, way back in the summer of 2019. But then 2020 happened. Resulting in everything, and I mean everything, we were promised getting pushed back for another year. So, when it was finally announced that the series WandaVision was, at last, ready to be released, fans were both excited as well as skeptical. Because the first thing that would reintegrate us back into this franchise would be a show about how two Avengers are stuck in a sitcom. It might be new, long-awaited content, but it also doesn't sound all that interesting. Could a story involving two characters who have yet to stand on their own be enough to carry a brand new adventure? Well, for eight whole weeks, fans were given that answer. And personally, I will admit that WandaVision might have been better than anybody could have ever expected...for the most part.

(Final spoiler warning if you haven't seen the show yet)

WHAT I LIKE

It Just Goes: This is easily the best way the series could have started. We are given no context about what is going on. We're just shown that Wanda and Vision are currently stuck in a sitcom, and that's it. By making it a mystery, fans are given this sort of interaction with the series as they find clues and come up with theories about how and why this happened. Sure, some assumptions were more far fetched than others (did people think Mephisto was confirmed just because of one misinterpreted line involving the Devil?), but it still makes the show a ton of fun to watch. Plus, even when we're given answers, it's only tiny pieces of the puzzle. We're always given a chance to figure out the bigger picture, resulting in an image that is, I'll admit, somewhat satisfying to see. Just as long as you ignore the crybabies who get upset that their favorite theories turned out to be wrong.

The Homages are on Point: I also love how straight the cast and crew play with the idea of two superheroes being stuck in a series of sitcoms. Everything they use fits in the era each sitcom takes place in. With things like camerawork, set design, special effects, acting quality, tropes, and even theme songs, everything works as a proper homage than just having two episodes in black and white and the rest in color. Each new sitcom that Wanda and Vision are rebooted in feels so genuine, to the point where they seem like they could be actual shows that could have existed. Seriously, my dad showed me stuff like The Dick Van Dyke Show when I was a kid, so trust me when I say that the very first episode nails the style that it's honoring. Not only is it charming as all forms of hell, but it also works in making these moments when characters break from the spell (get it) all the more jarring and even disturbing at times. Because when you're so keen on watching what seems like a fun and cheesy sitcom, you feel a bit unsettled when a character suddenly acts in a way that's a tad foreboding. Still, it's fun to watch and is easily the central hook for what makes this show work.

The Comedy: The homages also nail the comedy that came from each type of sitcom. The jokes fit with each period, from the cheesy and charming 50s to the cynical and dry 90s and early 2000s. It's another thing the writers play straight with, and I think it works. The only jokes made by most stories like this are just pointing out that these serious characters are stuck in a silly sitcom. Instead, the writers tell jokes that work for the period it's in, and it is all genuinely funny if you're used to those types of goofs and gags. If you didn't laugh, that's because the comedy isn't trying to reach out to you. It's reaching out to the people who actually watched these types of sitcoms. Or, in my case, the type of people who had their parents show them these types of sitcoms. And even then, I still think there are these lines and deliveries that are still funny even if you don't get the joke. For example, there's this brief moment with Vision and a toy baby that got a genuine chuckle out of me for how absurd it was. I wasn't expecting to laugh that much, but on top of the many surprises this show gave, being funny was definitely one of them.

“My husband, and his indestructible forehead”: He...hehe...hehehehahahaHAHAHAHA! AH! HA! HA! HA! 

*Slowly starts sobbing*

>Squeaks<

I see what you did there.

Paul Bettany as “Vision,” “Vision,” and Vision: Can we give Paul Bettany a round of applause for basically playing three different characters, each with their own varying levels of emotions and purposes? Because goodness gracious, this man is a champion! I've seen tons of people praise Elizabeth Olson for her performance as Wanda, and to be fair, she does do a fantastic job...aside from one blatant issue (which I'll get into later). But as great as Olson is, Bettany still deserves some credit. Throughout most of the series, he has this level of comedic-timing that I didn't even know he was capable of, by going ham or just having a dry wit. Seriously, was someone going to tell me that Paul Bettany can be funny, or was I supposed to find that out for myself? On top of being hilarious, Bettany delivers such raw emotion that none of us would have ever expected from this character. That screaming match “Vision” has with Wanda shows the very first time that any version of him has ever been angry, and Bettany does a great job at making that moment as jarring as it needed to be. And that's just from playing one version of the character! I didn't even talk about how he nails the naive yet still wise Vision from the flashback in "Previously On" or the cold and robotic "Vision" from "The Series Finale." Bettany has range, and WandaVision is a great show that proves how. One just needs to have the right amount of vision to see it (HhhhhhhhhhhHA!)

Developing Wanda: But as great as Paul Bettany, and to a lesser extent, Vision, is, Wanda Maximoff is clearly the star of the show here (And yes, I know that it's Wanda who's the character and Elizabeth Olson is the actor, but...I'll get into it!). If WandaVision has taught me anything about these Disney+ shows, it's that we are finally going to get some long-awaited development to characters that are starved from it. And Wanda definitely needed it. Don't get me wrong, Wanda was great in past movies but wasn't that compelling of a character. Here, trust me when I say that the opposite is true. 

We are given a deep dive into not only Wanda's morality but also her psyche. The writers really play around with how scary Wanda can be. As well as questioning if Wanda has the capability of being evil. Because, yeah, what she did was not right. True, our "heroine" was going through some rough s**t, but that doesn't excuse the amount of torture Wanda put the people of Westview through, no matter how unwittingly. Just look at that scene where everyone grills Wanda about what she's doing to them, not only pleading for whatever compromise they can get and even begging for her to kill them instead. That is dark! That is the darkest concept the MCU has ever offered, and the ending of Avengers: Infinity War exists!

But, while it doesn't entirely excuse everything, there is a reason why Wanda did all of this. You see, throughout WandaVision, Wanda goes through the five stages of grief. It all starts with denial as she pretends to live in a sitcom that she created where Vision is alive, and they get to even have kids together. Soon comes anger when she destroys anything and physically harms anyone that tries to bring her back to reality. Next, there's bargaining as Wanda strengthens her hex and expands it to keep outsiders out and keep Vision in. This leads to depression as the weight of all of Wanda's actions finally sinks in, and she's forced to realize the damage she's causing. Until all of it ends with acceptance, as Wanda finally, finally, gets to say goodbye to Vision. Something she never really got when Thanos ripped the mind stone out of Vision's forehead. It's both incredible to watch as it is fascinating. Wanda, through the course of her own little spin-off series, just went from a decent character to one of the most intriguing to dissect in the MCU. And we have this show to thank for it.

The Commercials: These commercials offer three things.

They're more homages to classic television, each product and filming for each one honoring how commercials looked in each era.

They offer more of an insight into Wanda's psyche as we see how each commercial shows bits of her history, regrets, and deepest desires. You see all of the above in the Lagos' paper towel commercial.

There are neat bits of foreshadowing of what's to come, like how Hydra Soak ends by saying it's for "your inner goddess" or how the 90s commercial ends by saying Magic isn't meant for the weak.

With all of that, these commercials are as fun to analyze as they are disturbing as hell.

The Dinner Scene: This was the moment it was clear that WandaVision wasn’t going to just be fun and games. The second that "Mr. Heart" starts screaming at Wanda about why she and Vision came, it becomes clear that the whole wacky scenario our heroes are in isn't as harmless as we all thought. And when "Mrs. Heart" playfully tells her husband to stop it when “Mr. Heart” starts choking, only to desperately scream at Wanda to stop it, audiences begin to piece together that the people of Westview are prisoners--no--victims. As for Wanda? She's the unknowing dictator forcing them to do what she says. And it was this scene that I knew I was going to really enjoy this show.

The Blip Scene: And it was this scene that made WandaVision skyrocket into top-tier MCU territory! As much as I love Spider-Man: Far From Home, I will admit that making a joke with the concept of something like the blip might not have been the best move. But showing the chaos of everyone coming back all at once? On top of showing the confusion that a person would have from being told that a five-second nap was five years? Yeah, that's more in line with what we want.

Returning Characters: Not only was I surprised by the fact that these pretty minor characters in the MCU made a return at all, but I was also shocked to find out they work better in this series than they did in their respective movies. First, there's Monica. Not only is she reintroduced as a brand new hero (with, admittingly, confusing superpowers), but she also works as the anti-Wanda. Both characters had someone they care about dearly die without getting a chance to say goodbye. The difference is that Monica doesn't have the abilities Wanda does and is instead forced to quickly accept that her mom is dead and won't come back. She even admits that she would bring her mom back if she could. But that just makes Monica the perfect person that Wanda needs. A person that understands where she's coming from and tries to convince Wanda to do the right thing, no matter how hard it is. Monica's methods may have been a tad bit sloppy, but she is still ten times more intriguing than that little girl who screwed around with the color scheme on Captain Marvel’s suit.

Then there's Jimmy Woo, who is both funnier here than in Ant-Man and the Wasp, and actually shows signs of being a competent FBI agent. A step up, I might add, from the hilariously incompetent character we saw in his previous appearance.

And also, Darcie is here...and still slightly annoying...but at least she still has a couple funny lines here and there! Which is more than I can say with Thor and Thor: The Dark World.

In my opinion, it's a good move having these characters with pretty small roles in vastly different stories make a return. It shows that they are not limited to their one little corner of the MCU. And that they can branch off into taller tales that suit them perfectly. It's pretty cool, and it makes me wonder what other small characters could make a triumphant return.

Billy and Tommy: These two are...fine. Billy and Tommy give me Zach and Cody vibes sometimes, the kids playing them do a decent job, and they both offer some great emotional moments. The problem is that out of the list of characters that WandaVision introduces and reintroduces, there's not much to talk about with Billy and Tommy. Honestly, the only reason why I briefly mentioned that I like them is that I don't want dozens of people crucifying me for not saying anything about them. I don't hate them, but I don't much care for them either.

Evan Peters as Quicksilver: Although I would have loved it if it was Aaron Taylor-Johnson who made a return, seeing Evan Peters in a good Marvel movie again is more than worth it. He plays a much more fun version of Quicksilver while still nailing the sibling relationship the character has with Wanda. In a way, it's a lot like how Marvel cast J.K. Simmons as J Jonah Jameson at the end of Spider-Man: Far From Home. It's admitting that no one could have played the character better than this one actor and briefly making fans happy in the process. While also not doing something crazy like having it be the exact same Quicksilver from the X-Men movies. Only f**king idiots would believe something like that...

...

...But hypothetically speaking, let's say some people were stupid to believe that. While making an outrageous claim that the writers "lead them on to doing so." In which case, I will say the same thing that one would say when friend-zoning someone: "Nobody led you on to s**t. You were just too busy focusing on what you wanted to see instead of what you needed to see."

Because there was no evidence that it was the same Quicksilver other than the fact that it was the same actor. And, hypothetically speaking, if there were dozens of crybabies who were upset about it not being the same Quicksilver, then I have so much more respect for this character being nothing more than a boner joke. Because you did this to yourselves...hypothetically speaking.

Retconning Wanda’s Powers: ...I'm ok with this. Retcons happen all the time in the comics, as well as in movies and television. It's just a matter of making the retcon believable enough where there are few holes in what you're telling people. As for Wanda apparently having magic this entire time, but the mind stone amplified her powers? I can buy that. Besides, it's an acceptable excuse to make Wanda as powerful as she is in the comics (from what I've been told), so like I said, I'm ok with this.

“I can’t feel you…”: ...That's fine. I didn't need my heart anyway.

“Vision’s” Talk with “Vision”: Forget the horrible CGIed battles. I want more of this!

Now, I put both Visions in quotation marks because while they're both the same character, they're also...not the same. Which is, funnily enough, what this scene is: A philosophical discussion between two versions of the same android about what makes them both/neither the definitive version. One may look the same, and the other may be the same body, but neither "Vision" really is the true Vision. However, the fact that these two stop their fighting so they can have this discussion in the first place helps secure that while different, they are still the same. It's a thought-provoking discussion, and it is ten times more interesting to watch than Wanda and Agatha's CGI fight in the sky. Although it is kind of odd that White-Vision just peaces out the second Hex-Vision gives him a reboot. But hey, that's for the future movies to deal with.

“Thank you for choosing me to be your mom.”: >Deep inhale<...Girl.

Wanda Saying Goodbye to Vision: >DEEPER INHALE< HOOOOOOOOOOO BOY! I did not expect this much emotional turmoil from f**king WANDAVISION!

Joking aside, this is a well-handled scene. It's incredibly emotional to see these two characters say goodbye to each other as their arcs come to a close. "Vision" peacefully leaves knowing who he is in the world, and Wanda can finally start moving on as she gets to say goodbye to her one true love. It's as bittersweet as it is beautiful.

WHAT I DISLIKE

MCU logos flashing in every episode: You know how CinemaSins has this bulls**t excuse about how the MCU opening logo wastes time to get to the good stuff? This is the only instance where that's applicable. Because the opening logo was cool to see again for the first episode, but having it play in every single one after breaks the immersion when trying to binge the series. It's for a couple of seconds, sure, but after a while, it does get pretty annoying.

Elizabeth Olson as Scarlet Witch: Now, to be clear, I have no problems with Elizabeth Olson's acting ability in this series. She juggles being funny, heartbreaking, and threatening so well that I am likely to laugh and cry with her as I am to s**t my pants while in her presence. Elizabeth Olson does a great job with this character. The problem? Well, in the comics, Wanda Maximoff is Roma, and Elizabeth Olson...isn't. This means that WandaVision, and the MCU as a whole, has a bad case of white-washing.

I could go on about the issues this brings, but I am not as educated about this subject, and all I know is just stuff that seems like common sense. For instance, I believe it is more than reasonable to hire an actor of a specific race or ethnicity for a character who is of a that same race or ethnicity. But that is as far as my knowledge and personal stance goes, and to expand on it would be too much of a risk because I have no right to criticize the representation of something I am not a part of. So instead, I'm going to point you to @earnestdesire‘s blog and Jessica Reidy’s article on the subject. They do a great job at discussing the issues with Olson’s Wanda and pointing to the issues the MCU has in representing Wanda and Pietro's representation in the comics. And they do it in a far better way than I ever could have. So check them out to truly see why, despite doing a great job, Elizabeth Olson should not be the person donning the suit.

It Was Agatha All Along: AND I STILL F**KING HATE THAT!

I know, I know, I am in the minority on this one. And I still don't understand why! To me, Agatha has all of the problems that Hans has in Frozen. Sure, there are hints if you pay more attention during a few select scenes that are slightly questionable. Like how she refers to Wanda as "the star of the show" or coincidentally shows up with a dog house for Sparky. However, much like how Frozen didn't need a villain like Hans, WandaVision didn't need a comic book villain like Agatha. The story was perfectly passable as a personal conflict involving Wanda's grief where the only obstacle was the director of S.W.O.R.D. and his agents. There is nothing Agatha adds to that.

"But she helps Wanda find out what happens!" Yeah, but Monica could have done the same thing by actually breaking through to Wanda and calmly asking what happened. From then on, they could have worked things out together by having Wanda retrace events that transpired through the information that Monica knows as well.

"But Agatha helps Wanda realize what she's doing is wrong!" So could Vision! He could have shown up, did that mind-meld thing to the townspeople, and Wanda would finally learn what she was doing was wrong through the person she trusts the most.

"But Agatha helps Wanda learn that she's the Scarlet Witch!" Ok...but did that need to happen in this series? Because when you think about it, when the central conflict is all about exploring Wanda's grief, throwing in this narrative about becoming the Scarlet Witch has little to do with anything. Meaning that if you cut it from the story, little would change other than cutting a CGI battle that everyone agrees is the worst part of the series.

The most Agatha adds to the story is a secondary conflict that could easily be cut, and the overall quality would stay the same, if not better. And that is a problem. Agatha needs to add to the central conflict in a way that no other character could have. Like, give her a reason to be involved in Wanda’s life that goes beyond feeding off her magic and leading Wanda to her destiny. Because as is, even if you argue that Agatha is a good twist villain, she's a villain that really didn't need to be here.

Director Haywood: But as much as I don't like Agatha, I think we can all agree that Director Haywood is the worst villain in the MCU. Because one issue that Haywood has is a lack of motivation. For instance, why does he try so hard to write off Wanda as this supervillain? It was never explained, and for something so bizarre and crucial to his character, I feel like it needed to be. It would be passable if he was motivated out of fear and ignorance, but Haywood goes so far as to misedit security footage to prove his point. And I don't get why.

Is he sexist?

Did Wanda not show up at his kid's birthday party?

Did he secretly want to use Vision as a sexbot and didn't want Wanda to get between them?

I don't know, and I'll never know.

Plus, on top of having no motivation, Haywood is just forgettable. Agatha may piss me off to no end, but at least I'll remember her. I honestly forgot Haywood's name half the time, and I'm willing to bet that you did too. Case in point, his name isn't even Haywood. It's Hayward. And in the off chance that you didn't even know about that misspelling just proves my point about how forgettable Hayward is. While it's one thing to be hated, it's another to be forgotten. Because that just means that you left so little impact that you aren't even worth getting upset about.

------

And that is what I thought about WandaVision. If I had to base this off my usual score, I'd have to give the show the same 7/10 that everyone else gave it. Because there's a lot that I love, but the stuff that I hate is so problematic that it takes the WandaVision down on a couple of notches. It's still a fantastic series with a solid story, a great message, incredible acting, and phenomenal character development. It's just that not everyone is going to be willing to tune in as much as you might think.

[asimawv]

I write and conceptualize story to music, so I’ve compiled a playlist of 30 Darkest Dungeon-specific songs that I listen to when writing (and subsequently re-writing) in no particular order, which I hope will help you set the vibe too. :+)

Names in bold are links for easy listening - tons of Hozier and Of Monsters and Men up ahead, five minute warning.

1. ‘Fire and the Flood’ - Vance Joy

If you listen to nothing else on this list, listen to this one - it’s the kind of song that’s made for movies about yearning. Folk influences, choruses of trumpets and vocal harmony, and instruments that are layered for a rich, resonant sound. This is the song I imagine Dismas and Reynauld horse-racing through a crowded outdoors market in the hamlet to, and the song I listened to nonstop freshman year when I first started writing The Myth of Sisyphus.

You're the fire and the flood And I'll always feel you in my blood Everything is fine When your hand is resting next to mine Next to mine You're the fire and the flood

The chorus is built around biblical allusions to the fire (the burning bush signifying first contact) and the flood (destruction of the first world), the beginning and end. Every line is similarly evocative of Darkest Dungeon in their simplicity (“I’ve been getting used to waking up with you,” etc.)

2. ‘Soldier, Poet, King’ - The Oh Hellos

By the title alone you can guess who this is for. Even the Guild quote for the Leper approaches these three things as the defining parts of his character (specifically it’s “a ruined man, a warrior, and a poet.”) This song coincidentally has an old world influence to it, with a Medieval Renaissance style from a guitar playing a lute-adjacent melody.

There will come a ruler Whose brow is laid in thorn Smeared with oil like David's boy, oh lei oh lai oh Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord Smeared with oil like David's boy, oh lei oh lai oh Lord

To be smeared with oil is to be anointed by a prophet and thus chosen by god himself to be king, just as David was and his boy after him (presumably Solomon). There’s something strangely wistful about the imagery, which is just how I like my songs about bygone kings.

3. ‘Exit Hymn’ - Bear Attack!

This song is about the end of the world in a version where everyone simply stands together in silence watching, rather than having the masses swarming in panic.

Lovely shapes to the world descending, Brothers and sisters. Lovely shapes to the world descending, Brothers and sisters Mute.

It defies Lovecraftian horror, which is based on the premise that “common human laws and interests and emotions have no validity or significance in the vast cosmos-at-large” - it flies in the face of existential nihilism and the despair that it should bring us. That’s why I like this song for deaths in the end-boss fight; it also has a special place for other death-related ideas, like full-party wipes - entire teams of people vanishing into the dungeons, gone insane, holding hands while the darkness surrounds them.

It’s a bare song which has a sanctity to it, mostly just piano and rain and human voices. Just what you would hear at the end of the world.

More under the cut:

4. ‘Pursuit of Glory’ - Jhameel

This song is laid-back. It doesn’t have the Homeric intensity that some of the other songs here do - it’s a guy with a guitar and vocal harmony. By god is it a great piece of writing though (all of Jhameel’s older songs have that quality to them), and all of it is evocative of Darkest Dungeon.

So many eyes set on the path to glory Too many ties, friendship is for the lonely Can't still my heart, my tongue has tasted folly Thirsty for art, hungry for power and money

This is a song for everyone in the barracks, especially the ‘laundry list’ of people and their approaches to the pursuit of glory.

5. ‘Good Old Days’ - Macklemore (feat. Kesha)

This fucker put a Macklemore song in here. I did, yeah. It’s not even the only song with Kesha in it here (I’m sorry.) 

It’s a sentimental pop song, and I am sentimental to a fault. This is Darkest Dungeon AMV material, and I always mishear one of the lines as “we were underground, loaded mercs in that 12-passenger van” so it’s here.

We've come so far, I guess I'm proud And I ain't worried about the wrinkles around my smile I've got some scars, I've been around I've felt some pain, I've seen some things, but I'm here now Those good old days

6. ‘Past Lives‘ - Kesha

Here it is, the other Kesha song - this was introduced to me by a good friend, also in a Darkest Dungeon context. There’s just something about the lovers spanning time trope and finding each other in one life to the next that is irresistible (for the obvious reason in the context of Darkest Dungeon.) It’s a soft song, totally out of place in Kesha’s typical discography, and has a line about losing someone to the crusades, so... you know.

There's just somethin' about you I know Started centuries ago though You see your kiss is like a lost ghost Only I would know But I, I keep on falling for you Time after time Time after time

7. ‘Viva la Vida’ - Coldplay

You cannot fight this. You know that this is the song for King Baldwin IV of Jerusalem, you know it is. Did you know the official name of this genre of music is “Baroque pop”? Yes, that means more songs like this exist. You will live with this information now.

Don’t fight it. Just let it wash over you.

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing Roman Cavalry choirs are singing Be my mirror, my sword and shield My missionaries in a foreign field For some reason I can't explain Once you go there was never, never an honest word And that was when I ruled the world

Mirror, sword, and shield, the three other members of his party, his missionaries in a foreign field. Thinking emoji. I typed that out so I wouldn’t have a repeat of the crab emoji incident.

8. ‘The Boxer’ - Jerry Douglas (feat. Mumford & Sons, Paul Simon)

Partly inspired by the Bible, Simon & Garfunkle’s ‘The Boxer’ is a folk rock song about poverty, loneliness, and homesickness. It’s written and sung in a style that’s strongly reminiscent of older times, and the final verse about its eponymous boxer is particularly powerful:

In the clearing stands a boxer And a fighter by his trade And he carries the reminders Of ev'ry glove that laid him down Or cut him till he cried out In his anger and his shame "I am leaving, I am leaving" But the fighter still remains

This is what I use for Dismas’ life leading into organized crime and his foolish abandonment of stable job prospects in a half-baked bid for fame, as well as being punched down over and over again but with nowhere else to go. That last part is widely applicable across the cast.

9. ‘I Will Wait’ - Mumford & Sons

I am but a simple man. I see 'folk rock' and add it to my Darkest Dungeon playlist. This song I use for Reynauld - it has that sort of “salt of the earth,” somewhat biblical humility in its choice of words and style. 

Raise my hands Paint my spirit gold And bow my head Keep my heart slow

10. ‘Little Lion Man’ - Mumford & Sons

Have we not beaten this song to death yet? Can you blame us? This is the people’s song. We reserve it for all of our favorite fuck-up characters, as primal as Saturn devouring his son. We love this song. Jesus.

Tremble for yourself, my man, You know that you have seen this all before Tremble little lion man, You'll never settle any of your scores Your grace is wasted in your face, Your boldness stands alone among the wreck Now learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck

The line about learning from your mother in particular is why I think of this song for Dismas’ introspection, but I also associate it with the Hellion.

11. ’From Eden’ - Hozier

There’s too much Hozier in my playlists. There is so much of it, and it’s all important to me, says the hoarder. There’s something about profoundly intimate folk music that I love, and god put folk, R&B, blues, and alt rock into a Vitamix for 45 seconds to make Hozier.

Honey you're familiar like my mirror years ago Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword Innocence died screaming, honey ask me I should know I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door

‘From Eden’ is, according to Hozier, about idolizing someone from a distance, written from the perspective of the devil “looking longingly at something he desires - for everything that he does not have.” I associate this song with the Grave Robber for its playfully nihilistic tone - Audrey does say something to the effect of being left for dead by high society and the affectionate bordering condescending address is on-brand.

12. ‘Cherry Wine’ - Hozier

‘Cherry Wine’ is unabashedly about domestic violence, and its sincerity is heartbreaking, the sanctification of the blood spilled in the name of keeping her.

The way she tells me I'm hers and she is mine Open hand or closed fist would be fine The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine.

This song is strongly tied to the Vestal for me.

13. ‘Work Song’ - Hozier

A song about unconditional love - heaven and hell were just words, indeed.

When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her

I think of this song for both Dismas and the Abomination - it’s a song about love transcending spiritual and even physical need, complete devotion, but something about it is also not quite right. It’s morbid and excessive, self-pitying, and almost ugly in its sincerity.

14. ‘Sunlight’ - Hozier

The strong gospel influence with the choruses, church organ, religious fervor - I think it makes a great song for traveling scenes and church/altar scenes.

I had been lost to you, sunlight Flew like a moth to you, sunlight oh sunlight Oh, your love is sunlight Oh, your love is sunlight (sunlight, sunlight) But it is sunlight

15. ‘Arsonist’s Lullabye’ - Hozier

The gospel this time is paired with electric rock instrumentation. Something about the lamentation is unapologetic and matter-of-fact in its disturbing inclinations - this is Paracelsus’ song. Arguably representative of Bounty Hunter and Flagellant as well.

Now that I think about it, it’s great for Abomination as well. Damn.

All you have is your fire And the place you need to reach Don't you ever tame your demons But always keep 'em on a leash

16. ‘We Sink’ - Of Monsters and Men

Of Monsters and Men are closer to the indie rock/pop spectrum with influences of folk, with much less biblical influence and more folklore-inspired lyrics. They make for great trailer and action songs.

We are the sleepers, we bite our tongues We set the fire and we let it burn Through the dreamers, we hear the hum They say come on, come on, let's go So come on, come on, let's go

In Lovecraft’s Cthulu mythos, dreams are how the Old Ones commune with humans on the earth’s surface while they slumber in the ocean depths (Cthulhu fhtagn meaning “Cthulhu is dreaming”); I like to think of the ‘sleepers’ as the heroes being tasked to “set the fire” and the ‘dreamers’ being the Heir and Ancestor driven by some unseen force to unearth the antediluvian underground.

17. ‘I Of The Storm’ - Of Monsters and Men

Very somber song, overwhelmingly piano and snare drum and vocals. Also a great death scene song, or for introspection around the campfire, or played to reveal a major event.

If I could face them If I could make amends With all my shadows I'd bow my head And welcome them

18. ‘King and Lionheart’ - Of Monsters and Men

My favorite OMAM song - it’s clearly written about two children, kind of reminiscent of ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ in its fantastical nature, and very upbeat about the end of the world.

His crown lit up the way as we moved slowly Pass the wondering eyes of the ones that were left behind Though far away, though far away, though far away We're still the same, we're still the same, we're still the same

This part is reminiscent of the Leper’s journey, but the mentions of taking over a town, howling ghosts, the end of the world, a black sea and creatures lurking below, etc. are all evocative of Darkest Dungeon.

19. ‘Little Talks’ - Of Monsters and Men

Also very upbeat for its subject matter - according to OMAM, it’s a narrative of a woman speaking with the ghost of her dead husband, or going insane and believing that she’s speaking with her dead husband.

Some days I don't know if I am wrong or right Your mind is playing tricks on you, my dear 'Cause though the truth may vary This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore

The call-and-respond style of the song is haunting. I like this song for expeditions and afflicted heroes.

20. ‘Wolves Without Teeth’ - Of Monsters and Men

Suitable for both Occultist and Abomination, being consumed by an unseen and otherworldly force that inhabits them - well, maybe just rarely seen, in the Abomination’s case. Special mention to OMAM’s ‘Human,’ same conceptual backing but more raw.

You hover like a hummingbird Haunt me in my sleep You're sailing from another world Sinking in my sea, oh You're feeding on my energy I'm letting go of it He wants it

21. ‘Desierto’ (Original Motion Picture Score) - Woodkid

This is a full album, because all of it is dark orchestral cinema music described as ‘unsettling,’ with the sole exception of ‘Land of All,’ which has vocals to it. I reserve this album for writing fight scenes and for particularly unsettling events because it’s tense and wordless. I read Junji Ito to this soundtrack too, it’s insanely high-strung and discordant.

22. ‘Iron’ - Woodkid

‘Iron’ qualifies as Baroque pop - you might recognize this as the Assassin’s Creed: Revelations song. The large-scale, cinematic style of it and thematic lyrics make it great for writing about dramatic encounters or brigands.

This deadly burst of snow is burning my hands I'm frozen to the bones, I am A million miles from home, I'm walking away I can't recall your eyes, your face

23. ‘Never Let You Down’ - Woodkid (feat. LYKKE LI)

Another somber song, orchestral with some industrial noise in the mix - another great introspection song, or one for a scene with some hard decisions to be made.

Will you come along cause I'm about to leave this town In my eyes, a waterfall, all I can hear, a siren call Could you be waiting by the shore, oh I could drown without you Will you be holding out the line when I fall?

24. ‘Run Boy Run’ - Woodkid

Church bells, fast percussion, strong orchestral presence. For chase scenes, obviously, but great for fast-paced sneaking scenes as well. Also has a strong quasi-Medieval fantasy setting style to it.

Tomorrow is another day And you won't have to hide away You'll be a man, boy! But for now it's time to run, it's time to run!

25. ‘I Love You’ - Woodkid

Don’t let the scream effects and aggressive percussion at the beginning deter you (it kind of took me by surprise the first few times too) - it soon fades into more of the church bells and melodic string accompaniment.

Oh yeah, unrequited love song? It’s free (mental) real estate, baby.

Is there anything I could do Just to get some attention from you? In the waves, I've lost every trace of you Where are you?

26. ‘Vagabonds’ - Grizfolk

A rare departure from folk! Grizfolk is alt rock/indie pop. Stylistically it doesn’t match the feeling of Darkest Dungeon, but lyrically it’s almost 1:1 to arrival in the hamlet and the subsequent expeditions. Good song for writing about recruits bonding.

Oh this careless ground, guessing this is home now Oh in no man's land, at least we're still standing And we're all just fighting, some of us will not return And there's no redemption in trying to find your way out

27. ‘Everybody Wants To Rule The World’ - Lorde

Great trailer fuel, if you’ve seen the AC: Unity E3 trailer with this song - I listen to an extended version when writing fights in the Guild, especially one where two heroes are beefing. It’s got a primal kind of thing going on. I also associate this song with the Arbalest - lyrically, it fits her backstory like a glove.

Welcome to your life There's no turning back Even while we sleep We will find you

Acting on your best behavior Turn your back on mother nature

28. ‘Torches’ - X Ambassadors

More alt rock/indie pop - kind of a rallying song for dark expeditions, hopeful but still somber in nature - some gospel elements. X Ambassadors’ more popular ‘Renegades’ is also a fun tavern song.

Come on, carry your flame Carry it higher Leave it in the darkness Carry your torches

29. ‘Passing Afternoon’ - Iron & Wine

This is a song I use for reconciliation or domestic scenes - Dismas with Junia in the garden, for example. It’s soft and kind of meandering, and features vintage piano - you know, the piano you heard in the basement of your church turned community center as a child.

There are times that walk from you like some passing afternoon Summer warmed the open window of her honeymoon And she chose a yard to burn but the ground remembers her Wooden spoons, her children stir her Bougainvillea blooms

30. ‘Some Nights’ - Fun.

You know this song, your mom knows this song, everyone knows this song from like, middle school. Thought it’d be fun to end this list on an uplifting and very popular song. This is the song that a Disney adaptation of Darkest Dungeon would use in the Training Montage™ - from the point of view of Reynauld. It hits all of the points - being their commander rather than their equal, his stern and antisocial zealotry with no true ideology behind it, the ghost of his wife.

Verse 2, starting with “Well, that is it, guys, that is all / Five minutes in and I'm bored again” is where I see it transitioning to Dismas.

Well, some nights, I wish that this all would end 'Cause I could use some friends for a change And some nights, I'm scared you'll forget me again Some nights, I always win (I always win) But I still wake up, I still see your ghost Oh Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for, oh What do I stand for? What do I stand for? Most nights, I don't know

_____

Well that’s all from me! Feel free to leave your own recommendations in the replies, and I’d love to know what you think about my personal picks. :+)

[buginateacup]

So I finally figured out the best way for me to plot Rings is to write it out like I did before ie like you;re telling a rapid story/juicy gossip which stops me from writing the same scene in different angst/fluff/horny versions

so spoilers for the next few chapters under the cut if you’re interested

So the first night of the honeymoon is...fine. They spend most of it laughing over whatever the fuck was today and agree that staying married is really not an option. Megamind has conveniently forgotten that he agreed to be a superhero and Roxanne winds up laughing in Megamind's arms as he proves that he can in fact dance like Fred Astaire on the balcony of their suite. Its a remarkably fun night all things considered until Roxanne goes to push open the door to what she assumes is the other bedroom of the suite and finds the kind of closet that she's been dreaming of all her life and that means...

There is only one bed. Fuck

Cue panic

And Roxanne getting stuck in her dress 

help

But Megamind has also been having just a hint of a breakdown because dancing with Roxanne made him realise that oh no he's in love with his wife and he hasn't wished he was human for a long time (not true) but it does mean that she's probably not going to be okay with tentacles which is the kind of thing you should probably tell a prospective partner BEFORE you marry them so he's going to sleep on the couch far far away from temptation. And Roxanne is an absolute horny mess because she is absolutely hiding her feelings behind her libido but Megamind is being very considerate of not being THAT KIND of villain which means she feels like he doesn't want her and nothing kills desire faster than not being wanted so that’s its own problem.

Except the couch is kind of squeaky because its leather and he can't sleep and eventually Roxanne comes storming out and demands he come to bed so they can both sleep because he's keeping her awake too.

And they do.

Sleep

Just sleep

And wake up tangled together on Friday morning.

That's not awkward at all

That's also the morning they find out they have the suite for the rest of the weekend, which, delightful. Divorce can definitely wait a couple of days while they ruin Wayne's credit rating. There may be a bit of a moment where Megamind catches Roxanne trying on his mantle over her pjs that will either be incredibly angsty or incredibly hot but that that is not part of the plan we're just pretending that didnt happen, or it did and that is how they decide to be married for the weekend (IDK, working on it). In the mean time there are casino heists to plan and chess and scrabble to be played and evening brings Megamind back to bed with Roxanne because its just easier at this point. And when he wakes up because UNFAMILIAR in the middle of the night he plays with Roxanne's hair at her askance for an hour until they both fall asleep.

Roxanne is more than okay with having someone permanently willing to play with her hair on tap as all people should be.  

On Saturday Roxanne is awake first and spends some time thinking about how tired Megamind looks and how he should really take some time off and they can go to the beach or something after they get back. This should probably have been a clue about her feelings but hey, leave a girl her river in egypt.

This may or may not be the day she also glues him to the headboard of the bed with the decoupage setting on the de-gun while she has a shower.

Megamind genuinely considers gnawing off his own arm because she didnt quite manage to close the door properly and that is its own kind of torture.

They have a bet about paper airplanes and landing them in the fountain. Megamind wins so Roxanne has to show him a trick (Roxanne is not thinking about that thing she can do with her throat nope not at all) which is how he finds out his wife is a master at throwing cocktails and they get more than a little tipsy and he shows her how to fire the degun which is adorable and a little hot and they wind up slowdancing on the balcony to the Something for Kate cover of When the War is Over because I love that freaking song and I'm very attached to that mental image right now.

The second night, they know its all over by tomorrow and they spend a while talking in bed in the dark which is where I will probably make all of you cry with how lonely being the last one is for Megamind and it breaks Roxanne's heart a little to and they have the kind of thing that you just do not talk about in the light of day because if what happens in vegas stays in vegas then what happens that night is like the what happens in vegas stays in vegas of what happens in vegas stays in vegas.

Look it makes sense in context okay

They also both stay clothed so chill.

Sunday morning brings them to the foyer and its bittersweet and lovely and they just want to hold one another but they CANT because there is a PLAN and of course they shouldn’t stay married but oh shit the divorce desk doesn’t open until 11 and its only ten and their chauffer is waiting for them to take them home so shit, that is an issue but its fine because there's a form you can fill out and they will post you the divorce papers.

So great. They head to the airport and get on the plane and oh look there's yesterdays paper and why is there a photo of their wedding certificate on the front page?

And when was megamind going to tell Roxanne he was becoming a hero?

And Megamind had genuinely forgotten about that. Oops

So it turns out all of Metro City has been waiting for this day for YEARS. The paper is full of happy articles and letters to the editor saying we knew those crazy kids had it in them and Carlos has won a considerable amount of money in the pool and has taken his family to disney world.

And well they cant stay married obviously (can they?) but everyone is clearly expecting them to come home as a couple so sure they can fake it for a while before quietly separating except Megamind is not okay with the idea of Roxanne getting kidnapped by anyone else because no one else will be careful enough. And Roxanne is very unimpressed that the defenders council are trying to replace her with an official damsel. She is staying damsel thank you very much Gerry.

This may also become the fic where Roxanne finally sets up a damsel's union.

So they have a bit of a talk and yep practice kissing is definitely a thing they need to work on

a lot

that moment where the copilot walks in on them is a little embarrasing

but they land and oh look there's a car waiting for them to take them to

oh

The Scott's are throwing them a party after all

So Roxanne gets dressed by Minion for the second time in a week which is where she finds out that "Oh sir was always so worried that if he ever found someone the tentacles would be a dealbreaker"

Tentacles

Huh

Where?

Prehensile or?

Oh for fucks sake Roxanne you dont even know what they're for stop it

No but seriously where are they?

Megamind on the other hand has just found out that Roxanne has a tattoo from Metro Man of all people and there is a very awkward/sexy/funny moment in a butler's pantry where Megamind finds out exactly where Roxanne's tattoo is and Roxanne has it confirmed exactly what those tentacles are for after all.

Great so add that to the list of things we're thinking about like his shoulders and his hands and his eyes instead of our feelings.

Roxanne takes great solace in her libido as it is far easier than arguing with her head or her heart.

Or she would be if she was getting laid.

And SURPRISE this party is not the intimate dinner they were promised but a full on party with Megamind's prison uncles set up on a webcam in a theatre which is a lovely cute scene and Roxanne is definitely getting baby stories out of these men.

Megamind uses her as a human shield. Its force of habit and has nothing to do with how much he's blushing at all.

And they get asked to make a speech and Megamind tells everyone exactly how much he loves his wife and Roxanne is almost in tears because what the hell where was this when it was just the two of them? He cant mean any of this clearly and wow that fucking hurts.

And then Roxanne's great aunt helen shows up because of course family was invited and she is an unpleasant woman at the best of times and Roxanne goes full "Fuck off Helen he's my husband and I love him"

and 

shit

she does doesnt she?

Nope straight back to denial on that one. Cannot think about that right now

Because he clearly doesn't feel the same way or he'd have told her personally, not to a crowd of people. And Megamind thinks she was exaggerating because he’s also thinking where was this in vegas? And Roxanne is forcibly reminded she can't be the damsel if she's married to the hero so she is never going to see him again unless its for an interview which means she has to spend the rest of her life chasing him down in the van with fucking hal and ow ow ow

So they leave the party and Megamind drops her home only for Roxanne to find her apartment full of boxes as she is also being kicked out of her apartment as she is no longer acting damsel.

So she grabs a bag and tracks down the lair and oh hi husband can I live with you or not?

Hi wife yes please say (stay forever please stay forever) which is where we get the SECOND there was only one bed because half the lair was demolished in the last big battle and there is no space for another room right now and of course they have to keep sharing a room or Minion will get suspicious

this bed is much smaller than the giant orgy sized one in vegas

good thing they’re already getting used to waking up in one another’s arms

Roxanne does manage to ask for a small room to use as an office because she needs somewhere to cry and she's used to living alone but wow does this feel like moving in...

And that brings us to chapter 6ish?

[alarawriting]

Inktober 2020 #4: Radio

Based on the prompt originally from @writing-prompt-s, “You’re taking a road trip in a 5 seater car. Each seat is filled with you, but at various points in your life. One of you strikes up a conversation.”

***

I’m in the driver’s seat, with myself at forty on the passenger side, window down of course, just like I’d do if I wasn’t driving. My selves at ten and twenty are sitting in the bucket seats in the middle row of the minivan, with Ten behind Forty and Twenty behind me, and Thirty is in the back, lying sprawled across the entire seat. My Pandora feed is playing through the radio, and right now, it’s Area 27’s “Driving With The Future Self”, which is apropos, though technically, I am the only one who’s not.

“I hate vans,” Twenty complains. “I can’t put down the window. Why do you even have one?”

“Four kids,” Forty says, and Twenty is taken aback. Ten, however, seems impressed.

“Do you have a lot of cats?” she asks.

“Too many,” Thirty complains from the back seat, so apparently she hasn’t fallen asleep.

“I’ve got small windows open in the back, or I could open my window all the way, and the air would get back to you,” I tell Twenty.

“Roll down your window, it’s better than nothing. Ugh. Why are you driving a car that has windows you can’t open?”

“I’m pretty sure Forty answered that,” I said.

“What, don’t they make vans where the side windows open?”

“Pretty much no. I could maybe have gotten an SUV—”

“AKA, a death trap on wheels—” Thirty calls from the back.

“But as you can see, I don’t want to.”

“What’s an SUV?” Ten asks, young enough that it doesn’t bother her to demonstrate ignorance. I happen to know Twenty doesn’t know what they are either.

“Sports Utility Vehicle. They range from ‘pickup truck, except with a roof and back seats’ to ‘I took this regular car and pasted it onto the wheels of this ice cream truck,’” I say, rolling down my window. “Is that any better?”

“Yeah, but now it’s hard to hear.”

“You and Ten have the best hearing, so you’re just gonna have to tough it out,” I say. “Better miss some words than feel nauseous, right?”

“This is great,” Ten says. “I finally found an adult who will take my issues seriously. Too bad it’s my own older self.”

“It could be worse,” Twenty says. “You could find out that your older self doesn’t care about your issues, which I am not sure is not going on.”

“Oh, for gods’ sake, Twenty, I have a minivan because it moves large families and drywall for construction projects and a million boxes of books when I am moving, or storing extra books, and unfortunately they don’t have them where the gas mileage is pretty good, the reliability record is excellent, and the windows go down. Cheap, fast, good, pick two. I picked gas and reliability.”

“I’m glad you picked gas,” Ten says. “And that you have the windows down instead of the air conditioning. We have to save energy.”

“Does anyone even care about that anymore?” Thirty complains.

“I thought I’d ride a bicycle,” Twenty says. “Not contribute to pollution and wasting gas.”

“I want you to think back to the time we rode a bicycle three miles to our friend’s horse barn, and then maybe you will have the answer for why no bicycles,” Thirty says.

“Actually, it’s because I broke my tailbone having kids, and I can’t sit on the damn things,” Forty says.

“Actually, it’s because of all those things, plus cities aren’t great places for bikes, plus hard to tow young children, plus now I’m old and my knees are shot,” I say. “I could probably come up with half a dozen other reasons.”

“Do you at least have a short commute? Please tell me you have a short commute,” Thirty, who suffered a severe depressive episode that was at least in part caused by a 5 hour daily commute, says.

“I work from home.”

Thirty is now sitting up. She cheers. “Yes!”

“How does that work?” Twenty asks, puzzled. “Wouldn’t you have to go into the lab?”

Oh, wow. I’d forgotten. Twenty still thinks she’s going to graduate college and go to grad school and become a scientist. Forty says, delicately, “We do IT now, actually.”

“What’s IT?” Ten asks. “Aside from the villain in A Wrinkle In Time.”

“Information Technology. We work with computers.”

“We’re programmers?” Twenty asks, dismayed.

This is why I never made the big bucks in IT. “No. More like… oh, hell, it won’t make any sense to you. You don’t even have the Internet yet.”

“The College of Engineering has it,” Twenty says, “but I don’t think the College of Arts and Sciences can get it. Why is it useful and what do we do with it?”

I’m taking this – even Forty’s not quite far enough along to fully understand. Things change fast. “You remember Phenoma Jones’ Phenomenally Weird Phenomenon?”

“I just made that up,” Ten says. “Just, like, a month ago or something.”

“Yeah, of course I remember it if you do,” Twenty says.

This is not entirely accurate. Thirty doesn’t remember the shelf of dolls we had in our bedroom as a child, or more accurately, Thirty doesn’t think about it. Forty just found a picture of it and it reminded her so hard and made her so nostalgic she paid a lot of money to get hold of “new” used versions of all our old dolls, plus a lot of random extras. She still thinks she’s gonna make money selling the random extras. I’d forgotten the Silver Kitten until my brother brought it up a year ago – a story I told about a silver statue that was a stylized number 8 with cat ears and a simple cat face on top, which was somehow alive and powerful. I don’t remember the details. Ten probably does, but I don’t want to derail the conversation by asking her, because she will tell me, at great length, and I can’t bear to hurt myself by interrupting her and making her stop infodumping the way I remember everyone else doing. At my age I know why they did it, but the memory still hurts. So Forty doesn’t remember it and probably not Thirty either.

“Okay, so you know how in those playings, in the future, there’ll be a network connecting all the computers and there’s shows on it and you pay a little bit of money for each show?”

“Yeah,” Ten says.

“That’s real. That’s happening.”

Her eyes go wide. “I predicted the future?”

“You’re not psychic, you just read the right science fiction. And you didn’t get it perfect. Instead of microtransactions to buy a show, we usually subscribe to a service that gives us shows we want.”

“Like cable,” Twenty says.

“Yes, but it doesn’t suck. Instead of thirty million channels and half of them are sports, it’s like a library of videotapes on your computer and you can watch any of them anytime you want.”

“Can you make your own?” Ten, who is very interested in making videotapes, says, and tears prick my eyes. Because yes, Ten, yes, people all over the world make their own and they put them on Youtube, but it’ll come too late for you. You’ll be thirty-five with a tiny baby and a lot of insecurity about your looks and no time to record yourself, and by the time you have the time you’re even older and there’s so many other things you need to do with your time, because it’s running out.

“I think so,” Forty says. “Right, Fifty?”

“Yeah. Our kids have done some of them. We really don’t, though.”

“Oh,” Ten says, disappointed. “Why not?”

I’m not going to tell her because of insecurity about how we look. She’ll understand that well enough but think we just need to push past it, like she does. But Twenty finally likes her appearance, and Thirty doesn’t think she’s too bad looking, and I don’t want to tell them that someday they’re going to see themselves in the mirror and think they look like a short, squat troll or something. And Ten won’t understand what it does to you to finally think you’re beautiful, after suffering with thinking you’re ugly your entire childhood, and then losing it.

“We have other stuff we do,” I say vaguely. “Like learning German.”

“That’s great, but it doesn’t answer my question about what we do for a job. Do we do something with these shows?”

“No. Not the shows. But people put their files up on the Internet as well, and they send emails – messages through the computer—”

“I am smart enough to figure that out from context,” Twenty says disapprovingly. I’ve forgotten what an arrogant twit she could be sometimes. Well, to be honest, I didn’t forget because I never knew. When I was her age, I thought my behavior was fine.

“Right. Subscription services exist for that too. We help people get onto those services, move over any emails or files they had on a different service, and fix their problems.”

Forty is dismayed. “Really? That sounds horrible. Is that tech support? Don’t we get to do anything with data?”

“Sometimes,” I shrug, lying.

If I thought telling them all about everything would change anything for me, I would. But I don’t know how we all get out of this car without me being the only one who remembers any of it, because I don’t remember ever being in a car with my future selves. Either they’re from alternate universes or nothing I say can change their fates, because they won’t remember.

“Are we at least published?” Ten asks. “Tell me we’re published.”

“We have a few short stories published in some anthologies and magazines.”

Twenty is horrified. “Only that? After I’ve written all these stories?”

“The problem is that you suck and nothing you wrote is publishable as-is,” Forty says.

“What do you mean, I suck?”

“Twenty,” I say, because I’ve learned some diplomacy in the past ten years, “everything you’re writing goes into making us the writer we become. Thirty’s pretty damn good. And regardless of whether you ‘suck’ or not, I have a project going on where I’m publishing your stuff online. But it’s for free, on my—” I stop. She won’t know the word “blog”, or even “web page.” “—online journal. I’m editing things to bring them up to my current standard, but if you weren’t writing so much right now, I wouldn’t have anything to draw from.”

“Why aren’t we making money publishing books?” Ten demands.

Forty says, “Because fanfic. When you’re sixteen you’ll start writing stories about Battle of the Planets, and you’ll know you can’t publish them, but you’ll do it anyway. Then you’ll discover a place where there are other fans of the show and its original Japanese version.”

“Writing stories about shows where you can’t publish it in a magazine or a book and you can’t make money is called fan fiction,” Thirty says. “Or fanfic for short.”

“Fanfic’s great, but I’m still writing original stuff,” Twenty says.

“You’ll stop,” Thirty says. “You get instant feedback from writing fanfic – we can put it on the internet, we don’t need to worry about xeroxing two dozen copies anymore and waiting six months to hear anything from anyone. And the instant feedback’s addictive. I thought I’d be able to overcome it and write some books, but apparently, according to these guys, no.”

“I’m doing the 52 Project now,” I tell Forty, since she’s the only one who knows what I’m talking about.

“Now? Like… not eight years ago?”

“Now,” I say. “We needed a fire to light under our asses and we finally got one.” I won’t tell her what it was.

“What’s the 52 Project?” Ten asks.

“52 stories, one a week, every week, for a whole year. That’s where your stories are going, Twenty. And some of your ideas, Ten. I’ve lost everything you ever actually wrote, but it’s ok – you’re going to find a style that doesn’t sound like Mom next year, and a little while after that, I have everything you’ll write. Also, I wrote a kids’ book based on Superkitty.”

“Wow!” Ten says. “But how can you have Underdog in it? Wouldn’t that be fanfic?”

“I changed a lot of things,” I admit. “In my story, Superkitty’s ten. She doesn’t have a hundred family members, just Lara Kitty and a little brother. She’s not working as a slave of the dogs, she lives in Kookalariland, but her family are refugees because the dogs really did take over her home country. And the Underdog character is named Arthur Boy.”

Underdog’s secret identity was Shoeshine Boy. “I see what you did there,” Forty says, grinning. “I assume this isn’t published yet.”

“No. I finished it this year but it’s the first children’s book we’ve ever done – young adult novels, sure, but this is a chapter book for second graders, so I need someone who’s willing to look it over and tell me if it’s good before I send it to an agent.”

“So why are you doing everything now?” Thirty asks. “Did fanfic stop being fun, or did we manage to wean ourselves off it, and if so, how?”

“That rhymed,” Ten tells us all. No one tells Ten that that was not important information because all of us remember being what it was like to be Ten.

“Stuff has happened,” I say. “You know, no one lives forever, and I’m fifty. I need to think about the fact that there’s more time behind me than ahead of me, and I don’t want to disappoint all of you. Maybe if it was just me, I could just go writing fanfic until the end of time, but I know what you all wanted and I don’t want to let you down.”

Thirty says, slowly, “Fifty? Why isn’t there a Sixty in the car with us?”

I almost think I can see a Sixty. She fades in and out in the back seat. Might be my imagination, all the rest of them are as real as anything. “I can guess why, but for obvious reasons, I don’t actually know.”

“Is it diabetes.” Forty says that like it’s not a question.

“Yeah, but also other stuff.” I make a decision. Forty is past the point where any of our children were born; nothing she does can change my timeline enough to make my kids disappear. Either she won’t remember, or nothing will change for me but she can change her own timeline… or maybe she can fix things. The last decade was when everything went to hell. “High blood pressure. Took us a while to get the right medication for that. Then diabetes. Then breast cancer.”

No one in the car says anything until Forty bursts out, “That’s not fair! We don’t even have a family history of cancer—”

“Mom’s going to die of it,” I tell Forty.

“Mom dies?” Ten is appalled. She knew, of course, that people die, but hearing it as a thing that actually happened to Mom is freaking her out. I guess she thought Mom would live a ridiculously long time.

“Lung or breast?” Forty asks me in the harsh monotone I use when all of my effort is going into not showing my emotions. She really doesn’t have to; we all know the trick – maybe Ten’s not self-aware enough to know, but the rest of us do – and we know we have emotions. But I also know I’d do the same thing.

“Brain, in the end. It started in the lung.”

“That doesn’t mean we have a family history of cancer, then. She smoked.”

“Then what’s the point?” Ten screams, tears welling up in her eyes. “I tried and tried and tried to get her to quit! She didn’t quit? After all the times I told her about how bad it was for her?”

“That’s not how addiction works,” I say. “Addicts know what’s bad for them but they can’t stop craving it, and that overrides your willpower. Besides, she did quit. Thirty, has she quit yet?”

“Just did, but… I agree with Ten. What’s the point if she’s gonna die of cancer anyway?” I can’t see her, all the way in the back, but I hear it in her voice. Her eyes are going to be wet and she’s struggling as hard as she can not to cry.

“We don’t know. Maybe that gave her more time. Maybe it wasn’t the smoking at all – she was taking medications for issues with diabetes that they say could cause cancer.”

“When?” Forty asks.

“2015. In 2013 around December they’re going to see something on the X-ray of her lung, but they’ll think it’s scar tissue from smoking. In 2014 they’ll find out it’s cancer, but it’ll be too late by then. She’ll die a year later.”

“No, she won’t,” Forty says. “I’m going to stop it. I’m going to tell her – I dunno. Tell her I dreamed about Grandma telling me I have to warn her about that scar and she needs to get more tests.”

“Yeah, she’ll buy that,” Thirty agrees.

“I hope you can,” I say, “but… I don’t remember ever having ridden in a car with the rest of you, so I don’t know if you can.”

“Maybe this is the start of the paradox cycle,” Thirty says. “Then on the next iteration everything will be different.”

“How did we even get in this car, anyway?” Twenty asks. “And where are we going?”

“More important,” Forty says. “When did you get cancer and how serious is it? Is it related to diabetes? When did you get that?”

“2017 for the diabetes but honestly, probably right after Mom died, because we were too fucked up to go to a doctor and we pretended nothing was happening. And then we did the same goddamn thing about a lump in our breast in 2016 because they said they couldn’t see anything but we should go for more tests, but we lost the paperwork so we didn’t. In 2017 the lump started hurting, so we did go for the tests, and it was cancer. I lost the breast. This is a fake.” I thump my chest. “They say they think they got it all, but there isn’t any test you can undergo yet to find out if the damn thing has popped up somewhere else. The other breast’s clean. They’re giving me drugs that kill my sex drive and are going to ruin my marriage eventually, most likely, because the cancer responds to female hormones.”

I think Ten might be grossed out or upset by talking about sex drive, but I’ve forgotten. Ten can treat the subject of sex as if it’s a clinical matter of interest. She’s the one who tried to explain the birds and the bees to my uncle when she was five. Well, I guess all of us are.

Thirty mutters, “I might get more done that way…”

“You won’t,” I say.

“You’re actually publishing stuff that isn’t fanfic now, are you sure?”

“I’m going to change it,” Forty says. “I’m going to change all of it. I’ll warn Mom. I’ll fix our eating habits now so we don’t get diabetes until later. I won’t let the breast thing go. I’ll change everything. None of the rest of you change anything; if you try to alter the timeline you might erase our kids. But I can do it. I can start the writing earlier, too.”

There’s so much she could theoretically change that she really can’t. I can’t warn her about Donald Trump; she won’t have any power to do anything about it, any more than she did in 2015 and 2016. Same with COVID – she has no power to change that. I could tell her about the issues with the marriage but if I did, I risk Thirty deciding to break up with her boyfriend, who is my future husband and the father of my children. There’s one thing I can say, though. “If you can actually change anything… you’re gonna get the other house. Make sure Dad puts it in your name. Mom and Dad will have issues with some of our pets and it’ll be really upsetting when the house is a mess and they come to visit and complain about the house all day because it’s their house.”

“…How does Dad end up getting involved with the house?” Forty asks.

“Too complicated to explain,” I say, “and not an issue you need to force to exist.” Forty just attempted to get that house – the other half of our duplex – and failed because the underwriters for FHA loans refused to believe she was buying it to live in it rather than rent it out, and she didn’t have enough money to buy it the other way. It’ll work out better the way it actually happened, because Dad got it for a lot less money than Forty would have been able to buy it for, but she needs to not have the specter of how we are treating “their” house hanging over every interaction with Mom and Dad until Mom is dead. Especially if she can do something about Mom dying.

“Is there anything I need to watch out for?” Thirty asks Forty, or maybe me, or both of us.

“Nothing we can tell you. You’re going to have kids. Anything, however small, that you change could affect the timing of that and make you end up with completely different kids.”

Thirty considers that, and then nods. “Okay, good point.”

“Is everything really going to be terrible?” Ten asks. “It sounds like all the awful stuff happens between Forty and Fifty, and then we don’t even know, but… isn’t there anything good?”

“We’re not going to be what we thought we would be,” I say. “We’re not going to change the world. We’re not going to be the Uber-Feminist and whip our man into doing everything we say.” Ten is the only person here who even thought there was a chance of that one, really. “We’re not going to be published novel writers by this time. But we’ll have written four million words, most of it fanfic, most of it good, and we’ll actually enjoy reading it over, and it will always be a huge thrill to hear from someone who liked it. We’ll make many friends, over time, and there will be times when there aren’t any, but there will be times when there are a lot. We’ll make a huge difference in the lives of at least three children who aren’t biologically ours. We’ll learn a lot about ourselves and why we are the way we are and we’ll finally feel like we belong to the human race and there are others like us out there. And we’re also going to publish fifty-two stories in fifty-two weeks.”

“Well, I mean, we don’t know that,” Thirty says. “Unless you’re done.”

“Nope. Halfway through, though. And we’ll learn a lot about how to write short stories that way, and I’m sure that next year we can use that to write new ones that we can publish. It’s not over yet, girls.”

“But maybe you don’t have very much time,” Thirty says. “Because Sixty’s not here.”

“That’s why we’re in this car,” I say. I didn’t know what I was going to say until I said it, but now that I’m saying it, I feel with all my heart that it’s true. “We’re going to look for her. And if we find her, we’ll look for Seventy. Eighty I’m pretty sure is not happening, but what the hell, we’ll look for her too.”

Jig of Life by Kate Bush is playing on the radio. “This moment in time, she said, it doesn’t belong to you, she said. It belongs to me, and to your little boy and to your little girl and the one hand clapping, where on your palm is my little line, when you’re written in mine as an old memory…”

All of us stop to listen to the song. Ten doesn’t know it, but she likes it. She hasn’t seriously discovered her own tastes in music yet, and that song hasn’t yet been written. Twenty and the rest of them all know it, but only I know what it means.

The four of us who know the song sing along with it, and I start crying, but I keep singing anyway.

[thecrenellations]

Return of the Thief Notes, Part Two: The Book of Pheris, Volume 2, Chapters 1-5

Notes from my first read, October 2020. (Part One | Part Three | TaT)

Contents: Me losing my mind in multiple ways each chapter, helpful links, nighttime garden cousins, an Irene pun, notes from my second read, “mwt is just like going for it,” and “this is so fucked up and heartwarming.”

Format: Page number. My thoughts (Context?)

Volume 2

Illustration

Book 2 bro

Now we’re caught up and changed forever by lots of things

What printer’s apprentice made this?

Elephants!

Chapter 1

175. me too, Costis, me too. I am so tired. (it’s hard to sleep when your brain and heart and everything are fizzing because you’re reading Return of the Thief for the first time and a new Queen’s Thief book for the last time) 

176. Klimun + Gerosthenes vibes [moon doodle]

Holes in documents. That’s cute

Gen!!! <3

Wtf Ansel was hoodwinked!

177. The Queen waited

They’re ridiculous

Hi Pheris

Wtf he stole her earrings for Melheret?!?

178. Excuse me??? What is this book (sleeveless leather tunic)

He still roams!!!

Tattoos!

179. a sentence I never fucking expected to read ever “The absence of tattoos…”

180. that’s interesting

Stacked like kindling wow oh dear

181. She wants him to move in lol

Lol sorry Ion

Did she just want them to leave the room?

182. I can’t with this… I can’t. Why is sex symbol Relius canon. (the play that featured him! It’s great, it’s great, it was just a lot to take in!)

Silver crown?

183. Cleon! Rude!

Did they call Costis to deck him?

Queen scene!! <3

184. This is an epic. Abt Costis. Dirty stranger

185. he’s “the high king”

Lol

187. prophet (Pheris sure makes Costis sound like one)

Shut up Piloxides

188. resources for war! (book launch foreshadowing part two! She talked a lot about this kind of thing as well, and recommended the book Alexander the Great and the Logistics of the Macedonian Army)

189. “we”

What were you gonna say (Gen almost says something to Costis part one)

193. RIP The Magus Archives … it was not to be. Yet.

194. Melenze’s doorstep. Why? Bc Melenze is Ferria’s dog. (idk dude that line from ACoK has just never left me)

195. This is … a big war

196. Oh gen

Nighttime garden cousins.

Chapter 2

197. wtf did Relius think of that play

Also … not a peep from the sacred mountain huh

198. wtf will happen with Cleon

with Erondites

with THE MOUNTAIN

a lot going on

everyone was in that room but Kamet! So close!

199. Cute Fordad + Gen friendship (I never said these notes would make me look smart)

Same 2 T + R! :) It’s not them is it? (I NEVER SAID THESE NOTES WOULD MAKE ME LOOK SMART)

Poor Teleus

200. gdi Gen

Excuse me? Is he worried for Pheris??? (taking his tablet)

They trust each other! C’mon!

Sure he has reasons

202. oh dear. :( that’s … the worst cover story

Also falling

203. wow almost like a story huh

Ula’s altar :(

Why haven’t we had a Gen and Costis scene IN THREE BOOKS

205. I just … I don’t know if he’s just miserable or if it’s all a plan. I feel like I should know it’s all a plan. But he really feels like he has far to go. He’s just a mess and the same and so different. (having a small Gen meltdown)

205. he did give him the gun

Odd that he missed Quedue

206. he’s gonna bite them (buckle up! it’s abdication time!)

207. Power. Power. Power. Power.

Thx 4 the editorializing Pheris

208. Gen is making choices. That’s a choice.

209. There’s KoA down the drain

Aaaand he’s Eugenides

“Eugenides stared into the future”

The page of like 3 different tumblr posts: Trophy husband, Library, No! yes!

210. make sure he doesn’t leave lol

211. Pheris :(

Also fucked up timing for Irene

I love them

212. again with the birthday book

He’s still the king in the narration

Go on the roof! So close!

213. EUGENIDES IS ALWAYS APPROPRIATE my motto

Viper! Bastard!

Oh shit. I love them.

214. “our treaty” “our queen”

AAAH! Wedding night!

Asked her to leave!

Smash Erondites and peace out, literally

215. a frank talk

HE SAID IT.

216. The Bructs?

Wait is this his grandfather (taking a moment to remember all about Susa)

Also that’s Costis territory

217. who is this lion

218. #3 to Gen.

219. hmmm ring

There’s been a lot to unpack wow.

Did this happen, Pheris? Pheris?! 

220. Att�� atté!

(Dear reader: for some strange reason, I completely forgot about taking notes on the final pages of this chapter. These notes are from when I reread those pages a few minutes later.)

Erondites full cup to brimming

The Pherises…

We must think of others before ourselves … occasionally

I do not like Orutus

Don’t fence Costis in! Does this count as prison? No (I had a square on my bingo board for “someone ends up in prison” ... but it turned out to be for someone else)

221. damn Costis

Aaah

Costis …

Irene… your jokes (I mean, it’s a joke, but also it is very real for her.)

SHE SAID IT!

My heart

222. where is Relius going?

SPYING

What you see and what you think it means (I love these instructions/this quote so much)

So are Susa + Erondites 2gether or what (listen ... proximity generates meaning in these books)

Also, like

What can

I say

WHAT CAN I SAY (Hell yeah! Never more glad to be wrong about the magus)

[page long list of doubles and parallels - from Cleons and Pherises and Ions to god-character and character-character connections]

Also the fact that in KoA and TaT Relius was like … oh … no … I just live a gentle life being friends with my king and queen and being scholarly. But no. He’s SPYING and TRAVELING MYSTERIOUSLY and has MANY LOVERS and also has been WITH TELEUS ALL ALONG and there is a PLAY written about him and he has a ~messenger~ network and PLAYS THE FLUTE and DOESN’T MAKE HIS BED and DISLIKES MATH and oh and he’s VERY HANDSOME! (Yes I was losing it, I hope my note from after the poem helps show some of the feelings behind this rant.)

Fucking … Wine shop. Should have known.

Chapter 3

224. ominous

Hello magus!

Sophos … babe (his impatience!)

225. Magus … cool your socks that’s your bff (he’s just describing Helen’s dead body! Fun!!!!)

In the van

That was good I love them

Why is it Couples Hour?

226. finally we’re out of the capital of Attolia

Ok they’re so cute

She was NEVER Helen in ACoK narration! 

Also – Pheris. This is all Pheris. (Pheris plus information others told him!)

227. Bringing each other up to date – that’s their thing. Talking forever

All this talk of shooting Therespides

228. EX FUCKING SCUSE ME (time to learn a lot about the country of Eddis)

He was 15! (or almost 15)

He didn’t know! Or did he!

The MoW!

All thru Pheris

Fuck you magus

When did he know

229. EXCUSE ME

The emeralds?

Assumed the worst?

That classic quote about little to do with winter but with “seducing other people’s lovers”

230. yeah Sophos that’s a lost cause (“spare me my blushes”)

Also she didn’t answer you

What are they laughing about (the generally nameless men we’re learning many things about this chapter)

233. Gen I think it’s fair to say that was a mistake

234. wtf Gen

GEN! he just. Had those. (the jewels!)

Her crown

I cannot

235. Gen!

237. Crash

Her CHANGES

238. THESE TWO

239. called annux

Yeah it’s like … a family meeting (the war council)

Bring your father to work day

241. Oh no.

Stenides! Boagus!!!!!!!

EDDIS!

Wolves! Lol

mwt is just like going for it

243. aww

Eddis > Boagus > Gen

244. Yeah I’m with her on this. (“if that doesn’t frighten you, it should”)

Chapter 4

245. Gen and Magus scene yes!

Two people affected by his long hair (Gen and the magus? I think?)

Pheris are you there?

Gen … you used to wish yourself out of existence

Wow

Hair vanity

Yeah also battlefield

Ion is a darling tbh

248. Is he. Is he going to fight all of them

Also they are all his cousins huh

AULUS! I liked you!

Same, Hilarion

Taking a page out of Costis’s book?

You have definitely seen it before. (I mistook his lie for truth!)

Will Costis hear about this? (please)

249. #4 to Gen!

Pheris where are you

Why doesn’t the Continent want to conquer them (do I get partial credit for this)

A tattoo!

250. “Do not offend the gods”

Honestly … too bad Helen DIDN’T do this

251. he said he’d give all he had

I’m sure there are rules

253. Just men? :( (let everybody fight him!)

Ornon is back! I mean, of course he is

Also yea they practice

HELLO ORNON

A house being built … or one knocked down. Nice

Is Teleus in on this?

254. Pheris called him my king!

255. I wanna know which guards though

:( he’d been faking

Kicked him in the head (ouch)

256. “when he fell”

I … don’t like this

He never gives up. The thieves don’t have limits. They have flash points.

Stepped on his hand

“Enough Gen” – what Irene said?

257. :( :( :( :( :( :( :(

The magus. I forgot he was there.

The magus said … nevermind …

The magus is probs very into this as a cultural thing. Also he was talking to the MoW

Pigeon. The sky. :( Like in TT (OH BOY, THE SKYYYY)

If there was a god, Pheris would see…

258. They’ve, they’ve been through a lot.

Oh god what’s next

259. I … no. not in his arms to the palace.

The palace where….

The stairs…

They are all 3 lookers. Basilisks and brass and lead

I hate this. But I love this.

I will someday see this differently.

Ah yes… the grunt. Approval.

260. Honestly, this is so fucked up and heartwarming. These books.

Lol don’t defend Hilarion, we know him

Eddis visits him.

Attolia watches him.

261.WTF Gen. I knew it. Why.

Crying or laughing? Crying? :(

How does this not undermine her now that he is her king?

But … what he wouldn’t do for her.

262. “he did fine”

This book is like… Reasons Gen Says Sorry

So, so… - Helen

GEN!

263. I am right. I am always right. It’s a curse.

Helen :( :( :(

The amount of times these people have seen him beaten.

He’s like … self destructive, but in a way that gives himself more power. Which he hates.

Gen, let them in. Let them in.

Chapter 5

264. honeycomb

OH NO. is it happening?

266. I’m just supposed to accept this?!! What does it mean?!

267. … a my king moment … important

But like … now can he fight?

Caryatid? [doodle after I looked it up]

268. Teleus!

C’mon Teleus. Everyone you love or respect loves him!

Honestly Pheris and Teleus … not a duo I expected

THESE TWO ARE SO DEDICATED TO TELLING HIM THAT! Ok I should chill. At least he said “may.” These are like … Pheris’s life lessons.

Honestly… I love that Teleus likes poetry, or at least likes it for Relius.

269. Lol Legarus. It’s been years! I mean, I guess that was a big deal for him… (almost being executed is a big deal for most people.)

Does he not love Gen because of Relius? Because Gen manipulated him? Because he keeps sending away his successor? Why on earth not! Hop on that train! (...)

It’s interesting that their relationship is the one that touches Pheris, not Gen and Irene. Hm.

Also … “Idiot.” The parallels.

“relatively gently” (it’s so good)

~Teleus here to talk about love~

This book is full of surprises.

270. That is NOT the bright side, Gen (“I could use my newfound authority to insist on going into battle”)

271. BUNNY! Wtf is a wineglass warrior

Very cute everyone, good job.

Still sad about Helen’s tears.

271. Gen. Don’t say these things. [volcano doodle]

272. SEE I was worried about this! The doubt!

I am not ok

This is TOO MANY Eddisian Revelations (Lader time)

Yeah. Wow.

273. Cleon x5

I … his grandfather

No.

Baby Helen begging

How did Pheris get this scene

Gen chose Cleon for his plan

275. IRENE WITH THE STATS!

276. lol Gen

My brother Sounis!

277. Missing Relius club.

Where is he though

Yes! Sophos Gen food fight!

Grapes!

“Wisdom”

He’s “the king” here and in KoA bc that’s the story but also that’s who he is to Pheris and Costis

278. So how did that Irene and MoW meeting go anyway?

How does Aulus know???

Thief short story! Probably terrible to reread, oh no

279. Are … are Aulus and Boagus together???! (“his slightly smaller partner”)

This feels … potentially traumatic … but fun? Idk

Fleece

280. This dang book. No rules!

The chandelier! So dramatic!

Mwt had … a lot to put into this one. A lot. A lot.

283. “not the Thief he was chasing”

284. The queens! The salute!

He can’t give this up.

Official Worries:

100,000 soldiers heading towards Kamet

Re: Lyopidus, Gen called Sophos his brother. Helen apparently might BE his sister. Temenus and Stenides are also going to a war where 9/10 will probably die.

Also

the MoW could have been a king if he’d stolen Helen’s throne. A lot there.

why does this book have the vibe of the library post, my comic from 2010, the king and queen interactions here, and the military tactics dream

[chezgender]

Medusa (Nikki/Tommy)

A new fic here. A sort of Greek mythology AU, featuring a sad Nikki and a cute Tommy. Oh and also, soulmates trope!

I hope you’ll like it, let me know what tou think about it!

Plot: Nikki and Tommy have been friends for a few months now, but Nikki has never shown his eyes. There’s a secret behind this.

Warnings: mentions of past abuse, mention of rape (in the context of a Greek myth)

The first time Tommy had met Nikki they were in a bar, and the drummer hadn’t seen his eyes. It was a boiling Saturday in Los Angeles and, despite the temperatures, Sixx was in full glam mode, dressed in black leather, with jet-black hair, black everything. Tommy looked kinda stupid in his high-waisted tight denim and yellow shirt. Figuring something out about Sixx had been nearly impossible since that dark and thick fringe made it impossible to see Nikki’s eyes. Like a curtain on the stage of an unknown theatre, like a cloud hiding a mysterious moon that could move seas.

Even when they started hanging out regularly, Nikki never took hair away from his face. It seemed like he wanted to avoid eye contact, so Tommy thought he had some strange issues. Though, after a few months of friendship, Lee still hadn’t seen the older’s eyes.

*****

“Your parents are amazing.” Nikki commented once they were outside Tommy’s house. The bassist had been welcomed like a son, he almost felt home for the first time in so long.

“Well… they are, yeah. Don’t you ever miss yours?” Lee asked, offering a cigarette to his friend, who accepted gladly. They were walking towards the Rainbow, as the night was falling on the city.

The bassist frowned, his voice dropping all of a sudden. “I hope they’ll rot in hell.” He commented and finally lit that cigarette, indulging in a long drag that seemed to calm his nerves a little.

Tommy changed the subject to avoid making him angry.

*****

“What color are your eyes?” Tommy asked once, before sipping loudly his chocolate milkshake.

It was one of the many dog days on the Sunset, and the two friends were sitting at a cheap café where Athena’s boyfriend worked. Athena was Tommy’s sister and he was very protective over her since they had always shared everything. Lee had asked Nikki to hang out together while he checked on that guy, and they took the chance to buy a drink. Finding relief to the heat seemed to have become Los Angeles’ priority, and staying with Nikki had become Tommy’s priority.

Hearing that question, Nikki turned to Tommy and flashed a grin that looked almost bittersweet.

“Green.” He so said, before finishing his iced coffee and looking away, without letting Tommy watch through his sunglasses. Who the fuck wore sunglasses inside a bar?

The drummer sighed and let the topic off, settling down for that small answer.

Their day went for the best until Tommy had to go home.

*****

The first time Tommy had seen Nikki with the fringe away from his forehead, the bassist was rocking a ponytail.

Pretty weird for him, to be honest. His hair looking still wet and dark with sand in between the messy locks.

It was more or less 6 pm, the drummer remembered it because there was a beautiful sunset and the two of them were on the beach, in a desert place in Santa Monica. The sun was slowly drowning in the sea, painting it orange and yellow and light shone bright, yet delicate, invading the air and filling everything with sudden peace.

Nikki was looking at the sea, sitting on the wet sand, diving into so many thoughts.

“Sixx,” the taller called him, appearing suddenly by his side. The bassist winced in surprise and immediately looked away, avoiding any eye contact. Tommy was starting to think all of that was some kind of joke. “don’t worry, just wanted to know if you wanna go home now.”

The bassist let his hair down again, his fringe covering his forehead and eyes. “Get you in ten, if you wanna go.”

To be honest, Tommy didn’t want to go away, and so stood at Nikki’s side and spent minutes and minutes fantasizing about those oh so secret eyes, wondering how the sunset light would change that mysterious shade of green.

They then walked towards Tommy’s van and spent the trip in silence, listening to Cheap Tricks on the radio.

*****

Tommy had recently gone living on his own, finally away from his family. It hadn’t been hard, besides money, and anyway he loved the idea of being independent. He had already invited Nikki multiple times and they wanted to use the place to rehearse, even though they were only two instruments. They just had to settle down, they were going to find a singer and a guitarist very soon. They liked playing together anyway, because they had a very pleasant chemistry.

“Can I use your shower?” Was the first question that Nikki Sixx asked a Tommy that had just got out of bed. The bassist was standing at the front door, hands in his pockets and sunglasses on, of course. He was also visibly sweating, it was way too hot outside.

“It’s 7 in the morning and you came here to ask me if you can take a shower?” Lee whined, scratching his eyes and yawning. He needed a coffee, right in that moment.

“It’s 2 pm.” The older pointed out. “And yes, I totally did.” Tommy was doubtful but decided not to ask any question: he didn’t want to know why Nikki needed to use his shower at 7 am, or 2 pm, or any time in the day. He probably got kicked out of his apartment, again.

“Yeah, come in.” He then said, sighing and letting the bassist in. “Be home.” he added, knowing there was no need to tell Nikki where the bathroom was. He had been in that house almost every day.

“Of course, thank you T-bone.”

They didn’t talk too much: Tommy gave the bassist a clean towel and told him not to mess up things in there. Nikki laughed, more like a small giggle, and soon he disappeared in the bathroom. As Tommy heard the water running, he decided to finally put some clothes on: a simple t-shirt and grey sweatpants for comfort. He waited for Nikki to come out, sitting on the sofa that in many nights had hosted Sixx, and listening to some music with a cold coffee in hand.

Each time he thought about Nikki, the whole eyes thing would come to his mind. Nine months of friendship, and he had never seen those eyes. Often he wondered the reasons behind that unusual, weird choice. Lee knew that Nikki was pretty introverted and the only way to get to know him very well was music, which bounded them like brothers. Another way to know a person is through their eyes because eyes are the window to the soul, but maybe Nikki didn’t want anyone to see his soul.

Tommy had realized his feelings for Nikki, recently. Feelings that were well above friendship and, even if he refused to name them or to talk about it with anyone, he knew that he couldn’t ignore them forever.

Maybe that was the reason why he felt the desire, the need to look into those eyes and see if there was the same spark, the same warmth that Tommy felt every second they spent together.

But at that point, he wasn’t even sure Nikki could feel anything at all.

And anyway, Tommy had thought to be straight for his whole life and now, Nikki happened? Shit was weird as hell. And also painful, because he was pretty sure Sixx, despite being pretty open-minded, would’ve never accepted him as gay, bisexual or whatever the hell he was.

The sound of the bathroom door being opened -that thing was creaky as fuck-, distracted Tommy from all those thoughts. He looked at Nikki with the corner of his eye, trying not to be too damn obvious, to notice his damp hair and his face, finally free and visible. He turned around suddenly, staring at the bassist, who looked into Tommy’s dark irises. None could manage to look away.

“It’s a nice green.” Tommy simply said, staring right at him and standing up. He slowly walked towards the older, to enjoy each emerald shades that adorned those beautiful eyes. And everything was almost unreal, dream-like, Tommy was afraid he’d never have a second chance.

Nikki remained silent, doubtful, playing with his own hands. “Thanks. Never heard that compliment.” He said, looking kinda sick.

“Dude, you look pale. Are you okay?” The drummer asked, frowning at Nikki’s reaction. He made him sit on the sofa and gave him clean clothes -a T.rex shirt and sweatpants-, waiting for him to get dressed. “You need some water?” he asked, as he looked at Nikki’s moves: kinda graceful and totally different from the ones he had on stage. He was shaking lightly and Tommy wished he could hug him; but he knew Nikki was very reticent about physical contact.

“Would be great, thanks.” the older said as he sat down on the sofa again, and Tommy soon handed him a glass of fresh water, with some sugar. Nikki drank it in a few seconds while the drummer sat with him. “Have you ever heard the story of Medusa?” the black haired guy asked, all of a sudden.

That was so out of context that Tommy didn’t even know what to answer: he frowned, not understanding how it could be related to their topic. “In school, I guess? Don’t remember much.”

Nikki sighed lightly, crossed his legs and lit up a cigarette, immediately taking a drag from it. “Alright, lemme tell you a story. Medusa was a gorgon, the only human of three sisters which represented moral, sexual and intellectual perversion. She was a beautiful woman, graceful enough that every living creature would look at her.”

Tommy raised his hand like a schoolkid: “Okay, but wasn’t she the girl with snake hair and stuff?” he remembered some things about Greek culture. They didn’t study much of it in school, but he had always found it incredibly interesting.

“Yes, lemme get to it. One day Poseidon, king of the Seas, fell in love with her and wanted to lie with her.” Nikki kept on talking, his voice was quiet, almost like he was hurt from that same story. Like he had lived it on his skin, somehow, like it was part of him. “But she didn’t, so he forced her. He raped her and she tried to hide her face behind Athena’s statue. The Goddess punished Medusa for her vanity, turning her into a monster.”

“Wait, how is Medusa considered vain? She was assaulted!” Tommy exclaimed, at that point, he was really invested in the story. And suddenly the ancient mythology felt so real, so everyday-like, and T-bone thought about all the girls that went through the same path in different ways.

Nikki shrugged, suddenly getting up: “I don’t know Tommy, I’m not Athena. I can’t believe your Greek ass didn’t know this story.”

“Anyway, why are you telling me this?” Tommy asked, making himself more comfortable on the sofa and following Nikki with his gaze. It was weird to finally look into his eyes, and see the light in them. The rage, the desire to wreck everything, the need for freedom. To be honest, Nikki wasn’t so different from what Tommy had imagined to that point.

“When I was very little, Nona told me this story and warned me about a thing: once I’d become an adult, I’d be able to turn people into stone without my control, like Medusa.” Sixx sat down on the table, looking right in front of him, where Tommy was, burning him with his gaze. Unintentionally, because Nikki wasn’t very used to glance at people while they could see his eyes, so he just looked rather creepy. “Because of my past, you know? I told you my childhood was kinda fucked up.”

“And that’s why you never let your eyes be seen by anyone, right? But it shit didn’t work on me.” the taller stated, fidgeting his legs as usual. Nikki had grown used to it, so he wasn’t even bothered anymore.

“Nona told me another thing. Do you believe in soulmates, Tommy?”

T-bone’s eyes widened in surprise at the question: “Soulmates…? Never really thought about it.”

“Well, she told me the only person who could resist to this would be my soulmate,” he concluded, taking another drag from the cigarette and blowing it in the heated air. Tommy was speechless, which was unusual for him. His mind was a mess, trying to connect all the dots and form a coherent thought, a decent answer to that.

“You gotta be kidding man…” he whispered. Not decent, but still an answer. The drummer laid down on the couch like he needed some more moments to realize. And Nikki, slightly worried about him, sat down next to his friend again and took his wrist to feel the pulse of his quickened heartbeat.

“I’m not, I’m shocked just as you. I don’t think I’m gay or anything, soulmates ain’t a thing you decide.” he sighed as he let the other’s arm and put the cigarette off in the nearest ashtray.

Tommy finally looked at him with a little smile. He always had that innocent, joyful sparkle in his eyes. He was the total opposite of Nikki, but none of them was bothered by that. “Hey it’s alright, I wouldn’t mind it anyway. As you said, a soulmate isn’t someone you can choose;“ he paused for a few seconds, looking at his friend with the corner of his eyes, "and I gotta say I’m okay with you being mine.”

“Are you saying it doesn’t weird you out?” Sixx was finally smiling, too. He almost never smiled, and Tommy felt a pleasurable stabbing sensation in his heart every time he witnessed those lips curving in a shy, cute manner.

“Listen, I might be slightly gay for you and anyway, after hearing this story, nothing can weird me out.”

“Stupid.” the older chuckled, before realizing what Tommy had really said: “Wait, are you gay?”

“No? I don’t think so…” the drummer mumbled, unsure about the best words to use. But maybe at that point, spilling the entire truth would’ve been better than keeping motherfuckin’ secrets. Secrets ruin friendships, and Tommy wasn’t intentioned to lose Nikki. “I mean, I realized I have some feelings for you, don’t wanna name them yet, but if we’re soulmates it means something, right?” he so dared to say, and Nikki’s reaction came quite unexpectedly. Tommy was expecting a ‘fuck you’ or something, but instead, his lips found Nikki’s in a kiss. A delicate and maybe awkward kiss, because none of them seemed to have the guts to deepen it.

“I- uh…” Nikki fumbled, but the look Tommy gave him was so full of feelings that the bassist kissed him again, almost like he was possessed.

And this time everything felt natural, which meant fast and violent and full of unnamed feelings. Nikki bit the other’s lip, making him gasp visibly at the sensation. The vibrant green of Nikki’s irises seemed to shine with a new feeling, which Tommy couldn’t really tell.

“Do you think things are going to work?” the bassist asked in a hushed voice, his forehead pressed against Tommy’s.

“Which things?”

“Us,” Nikki cooed, turning his head away from Tommy. His rosy cheeks showed new shades of his heart and Tommy was so glad and surprised. “are we going to make it?” he asked, his voice was full of worry, of that kind of pain only lonely people endure.

He had never thought he was destined to have a soulmate. That only happens in fairy tales, he would tell himself, and then proceeded with falling in love with people only to hurt them in the end. Because none of them were his true soulmates. His fate was to be alone, he had hurt too many people to trust himself anymore.

The taller then smiled softly, cupping Nikki’s face and smiling at him, before kissing his cheek. “Always, no matter what.”

“What a romantic motherfucker. I’m gonna get diabetes.” the bassist playfully complained, his smile would reveal all of his feelings. He really couldn’t believe Tommy was alive and well, that nothing had happened when their eyes met, when their lips touched. That there were no tears nor desperate situations.

"At least you know what you’re signing for.” Lee clicked his tongue. They fell silent, then, Tommy looking at Nikki and Nikki looking at the old and ruined, but oh so familiar, sofa. The atmosphere was quiet. There was some uncertainty, still, in fear’s fault.

A gay relationship, in the 80s, between two guys trying to become famous. That could’ve blown everything up, destroy their life-long dream. Was it worth the risk?

Nikki sighed. “Do you think we should make it public?”

Tommy frowned, his eyes veiled with the same preoccupation that darkened Nikki’s: “I don’t know, that might be a bad idea. But what do you think?”

“This is gonna be our secret, at least for now.” Nikki agreed, his hand found Tommy’s. Their fingers intertwined shyly, and Lee strengthened the hold.

“By the way, you can sleep here if you wanna. Since you got kicked out.” He said after a few moments of silence, and Nikki clicked his tongue at him:

“How do you know it?”

“Because you woke up earlier than 6pm, which, for the record, you never do.”

Nikki laughed: “Alright, alright, I have my stuff in the car.”

“Fine, go and take it so we can find some place for your clothes.”

In the end, Nikki didn’t sleep on the sofa anymore. The bed was pretty small for the two of them, but they could arrange it by sleeping on each other despite the extra hot temperatures. Nikki was feeling home like never before, and it was the most beautiful sensation. He would’ve phoned Nona, sooner or later, to tell her he had found his soulmate like she had said.

[galactic-academia]

#25 please. "You're mine and I don't share."

Rating: T (but light)

Category: F/M

Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes/Female Reader

Tags: Imagine, Headcanon, Sherlock has a crush, protective Sherlock, Greg does what he can, humour, teasing.

Words: 1117

Notes: Yeeeah thank you for asking! Here we go! I’m not a native, please, forvige my mistakes. Gif is not mine. I hope you’ll enjoy it

If someone had dared to ask to Sherlock Holmes if he was the jealous type, the Great Detective would have answered that, no, he wasn’t. At all. Sociopath, remember? He wasn’t able to feel jealousy. A complete stranger could have believed this enormous lie, or maybe a complete idiot. And even this hypothesis was wrong because Donovan and John (not the two brightest people in this world) were sitting in the back of a van with Sherlock, and they were both able to say there was a problem. The supposedly sociopath was straight, his fists curled up in balls on his tight, his jaw clenched, watching Y/N sat at a bar, smiling and sipping her drink, on the monitor.

Maybe some context would be interesting: five women had been killed, strangulated, during the last two weeks, they all wore fancy dresses, make-up and high heels. The autopsy had revealed they all had drunk, but not enough to be smashed, and there was no drug in their stomach. In addition, they all had an entrance ticket from the same nightclub in their purse. This case was childish, solved in less than a minute. And yet, Sherlock had taken it; now John was suspecting it was because Y/N had agreed to serve as a bait to pin the suspect instead of Donovan. He was almost sure of it since Sherlock had insisted for Lestrade going himself inside the nightclub with Y/N when the Police Detective hadn’t agreed that Sherlock goes there. “Not discrete enough” Lestrade had said… This his how the consulting Detective had ended watching his crush being wooed just under his nose. It was unbearable.

When he saw the third man in half an hour trying to buy a drink to Y/N, he knew his patience was seriously growing thinner.

“For God’s sake, Gary! Could you, please, stop these dumbasses from revolving around Y/N like the vultures they are?! You’re here to protect her, remember?”

A chuckle echoed in his headset.

“I can’t, Sherlock, it would be suspicious. Or I would have to pretend to be his boyfriend and…”

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

“Yes, it was what I thought.”

“Hum… Excuse me, gentlemen, but I’m perfectly able to take care of myself, thank you very much. Maybe we could focus on the task at hand?”

Crap, she heard them… Of course, she had, she also had a headset! How can I be so dumb when she’s involved? Not impressive, not impressive at all… Focus, Sherlock! FOCUS!

“Hey, Genius?”

“Mmh?”

“It was also very cute.”

Sherlock couldn’t decide if he was flushed because of his protective behaviour being exposed or because of… this. Or both. How do you want to focus with all these emotions inside him? Sociopath? My arse! Hell… He didn’t have time to try to answer to this question, because he heard Y/N again:

“Ok kitties, focus, the target is here!”

“Kitties?” Hum… Indeed, a young man, the cliché of the “handsome boy”, just arrived. He was blond, tall, thin, stuffed with charisma. As on clue, he headed straight to Y/N, who gave him a warm smile. No, no, it wouldn’t be possible!

“Hey there.”

“Hey.”

“Is this seat taken?”

“Nope.”

Sherlock couldn’t help but smile, she had popped the “p”, just like him.

“All alone, then?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“It’s a shame… How a pretty doll like you can be alone? Well, I don’t complain, lucky me!”

Was he serious? Did he just call her “doll”? Hum, no, it won’t be possible.

“Georges, do something!”

“Calm down, I can’t, not yet. I can’t arrest him just because he’s a little shit.”

That was a shame! No one should be able to woo someone like Y/N this way… She deserved far better! How she had been able to smile and coo with him, to dance without throwing up was a pure mystery for Sherlock. How he didn’t throw up was even more incredible. When he saw the suspect pulling Y/N close (far too close) to him to whisper something to her ear, when he saw her giggling and drawing him to a door which led to an alley behind the nightclub, Sherlock jumped out off his seat and scream

“Lestrade! Do… No, I go!”

And with that, he was running out of the van, cursing like a sailor, under John and Donovan’s dumfounded eyes. He arrived in the alley at the same time as Lestrade to see Y/N, red marks in her neck, kicking the suspect right where it pains the most. Surprised, the man fell to the ground while grapping his family jewels.

“Oh… Bitch!”

I beg your pardon? That was too much for Sherlock, blinded by his anger, he kicked the aggressor right in the head which made him loose consciousness. Greg started to yell

“Sher… Yes, no, ok, he deserved that. I’ll call an ambulance, please, stay with… Whatever…”

Greg didn’t have to ask to Sherlock to stay with Y/N, he already was leaning into her, worried.

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes, mission achieved, I think.”

“Good.”

Without thinking anymore, Sherlock crashed his lips on Y/N’s. A little gasp of surprise made her part her lips. Sherlock was kissing her. Sherlock was French kissing her. God. Since all her fantasies seemed to want to become true tonight, Y/N buried her hands in Sherlock’s curls with delight. They were even smoother than she had imagined, velvety. When they parted because of the lack of air, Sherlock huffed

“I have feelings for you…”

And Y/N smiled tenderly to him before answering playfully

“Yes, I think I had deduced that.”

Sherlock returned the smile

“Be my girlfriend?”

Y/N blushed madly, oh, how often had she dreamed about this?

“Sure…”

“Good. Now, there’s one thing you should be able to deduce…”

He leaned in Y/N once again, nuzzled her neck and, suddenly, start to suck a fierce hickey right where the serial-killer’s handprints already started to fade.

“Sh… Oh!”

Lapping playfully at the love bite, Sherlock lowly growled

“You’re mine and I don’t share.”

Y/N was just in Heaven.

A moment later, when Greg, John and Donovan joined Sherlock and Y/N to the ambulance where a doctor was examining her, she felt all the looks directed on the furious hickey in her neck. She looked at Sherlock, who was smiling smugly, then at the agape team. She absolutely loved the feeling of belonging she felt, but she wasn’t really ready to let the world, Sherlock excepted, knowing it, so…

“Ok. Everybody shut up. Too much emotions for tonight, I’m very fine, thank you Doctor.”

Then she gave a hand to Sherlock

“Walk me home?”

Sherlock happily agreed, and what had happened next is for a different story.

***

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[thelevelsman]

The Great Game + Five-Act Structure

me and @messedupsockindex did a TGG rewatch (i think we’re gonna do the whole show hell yeah hell yeah) and I did some liveblogging that turned into several metas on things i think are important in this episode, with the five-act structure being a Theme (though i went off on a real tangent RE: solar systems/framing and metaphors too). Read on if you dare.

First of all I learned that this was the first episode of the show that was filmed? I find that very interesting, I don’t know much about how to shoot a tv series, BUT if this was the first one that was ready to shoot, i wonder if that means it was the first one finished, and if it was the first one finished, is it because it’s The One that lays out the five-act structure of the whole show? 

link to @fellshish ‘s most brilliant meta here

another small spot of evidence for this “TGG is the layout for the whole show” theory is that lots of little shots in this episode are also in the title sequence (could be a coincidence if they did indeed film this episode first, but also maybe not)

Throughout this episode, we are shown an ongoing conversation between Sherlock and John concerning Sherlock’s lack of basic knowledge about our solar system. It effectively frames the episode - one of the opening scenes being their “domestic” (fight), and the penultimate scene (before the pool scene) being the infamous “I won’t be in for tea” / “I’ll get milk and beans” tragedy. I want to liken this episode-long conversation to a technique I saw in a different show. 

In this show (Masters of Sex starring the brilliant Michael Sheen and the formidable Lizzy Caplan), a man and a woman are having an affair with each other, but justifying it by saying they are simply “working” and that they’re not emotionally attached to each other (they’re sex researchers, so they “collect data” whenever they meet...it’s dumb.) Anyway, there’s a beautiful episode entitled “Fight” during which they are watching a boxing match in their hotel room while engaging in elaborate sexual roleplay with each other. While the boxing match plays in the background, they riff on what their lives would be like together if they really were the husband and wife duo that they pretend to be for the hotel staff. It’s intricate, and loaded, because you never know when they are acting within the roleplay, or talking honestly to each other about their feelings and pasts. They metaphorically duck and weave like boxers around their feelings and around each other. Their conversation often talks literally about boxing, too - The Fight is a tool through which the writers explore the characters’ bond for the viewer.

I see Moftiss using this same technique when I hear Sherlock and John going back and forth THROUGHOUT THE EPISODE about knowledge of the solar system. The first time they discuss it, you can feel John trying to understand why Sherlock comprehends things the way he does - why can something as basic as the solar system (or attraction) be allowed to slip through the cracks of his otherwise daunting intellect? And you can also feel Sherlock’s frustration with the way John perceives him - why should it MATTER if he doesn’t know the exact details of how the solar system (attraction) works - shouldn’t the fact that he knows it exists be enough, and if or when when he needs to, he can figure it out from there? They continue to explore the concept with each other as the episode goes on. 

Here, John has accepted that Sherlock doesn’t (or thinks he doesn’t) care about the mechanics of something as basic as the solar system (attraction). So he asks, why comment on it? Sherlock says even if he doesn’t understand it, he still appreciates it. Telling. 

In the final instance of this conversation, the penultimate scene of the episode, John tells Sherlock that maybe a little knowledge of the solar system might have come in handy after all. But Sherlock also has a point:

John’s knowledge of something so basic as attraction has been useless to him thus far. 

If we’re gonna accept food = sex, I found it funny that John was “starving” and he found a head in the fridge. John, there’s head for dinner, if you want it! Even funnier that Sherlock’s response to “I’m starving” was that he was researching saliva. (I don’t love the food=sex thing, I just don’t think it’s intentional, but I do feel like it’s a valid interpretation here that Sherlock is subtextually begging John to let him suck it)

I’m too tired to figure out what Mycroft’s dental appointment could possibly mean but both of us were like??? My half-baked theory right now (borrowing from M theory) is that the “dental appointment” was actually Mycroft getting the shit kicked out of him by Moriarty/Mary/whoever the mastermind is, so that Mycroft would plant the missile plan crime for Sherlock? 

okay so I never really realized this but Sherlock knows Jim is gay bc he uses hair product and then season 4 John has hella hair product....huh

Sherlock’s security outfit is queer coded but suddenly I can’t find any evidence of this I just...have it somewhere in my psyche that a police/security costume outfit like that was claimed by queer people and I can’t remember why?

For hostage number 3, the old woman, Moriarty (or whoever is on the other end of the computer) calls her “a funny one.” @messedupsockindex​ told me while we were watching about the midpoint of the five-act structure being the breakthrough, the point of no return, the point at which key knowledge is gained (from John Yorke’s Into The Woods, also brilliantly discussed here).  I can’t help but think of this seemingly offhand line as a tiny clue to the importance of series 3 of BBC Sherlock. (In case you didn’t know, the midpoint of the whole show, if there are indeed going to be fifteen episodes, is...you guessed it...the best man speech).

The last Greenwich pip case that is solved, a case in which we have a hostage on the other end of a phone, is the fake painting. The solution to this case is “the Van Buren supernova” aka part of outer space, seen from our solar system. As I’ve argued above, the solar system is a metaphor/framing device used in this episode to subtextually discuss the engine of this entire show - Sherlock and John’s relationship. How very telling that Sherlock, even Sherlock, very nearly doesn’t get to this solution. But, when he does...

(me reading about the five act structure and realizing series four is fake)

Moriarty’s last few lines - I find this whole scene to be absolutely vital to understanding the point of the whole show, but especially the last bit. 

There is probably already someone who has explained/noticed this but...the exchange that Moriarty is responding to, that happened before he re-entered the room, was Sherlock and John getting the closest they ever get in the WHOLE show to discussing the sexual tension/attraction between them (I think I’m again standing on the shoulders of the legendary M theory here). John has taken a huge leap in choosing to bring up what “people” might think about Sherlock ripping his clothes off in a darkened swimming pool. Sherlock responds jokingly but not dismissively, and the logical next step would be to discuss what they themselves think about it...until of course they are interrupted by this, by literally being held at gunpoint.

Moriarty’s lines here are apparently some pretty famous lines in ACD canon. I didn’t know the canon context, so it’s a little easier to just parse the lines in context of this scene. Moriarty wants to stop this discussion that Sherlock and John are about to have, and more broadly, whatever that conversation might lead to. He would try to convince them that they can’t be allowed to continue, but everything he has to say, all the convincing he could possibly do, has already crossed Sherlock’s mind (or both of their minds - it’s actually not specified who he’s talking to here). This is true because Sherlock and/or John are afraid to “continue” - discuss their feelings for each other - because of trauma and internalized homophobia. All the reasons that they shouldn’t “continue,” reasons that Moriarty could cite out loud, have already crossed their minds, probably more than once. I think this unspoken meaning makes so much more sense than taking Moriarty’s “you can’t be allowed to continue” to mean “you can’t be allowed to continue to solve crimes,” which is what it meant in ACD canon. And it’s a fantastic rework of an ACD canon line. 

So... the end, I guess. I probably should have split this up into different posts...

[the-desolated-quill]

Rosa - Doctor Who blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

It comes as a massive relief to say that I really enjoyed this episode. There are a number of ways Rosa could have gone wrong and while Chris Chibnall has managed to crank out two surprisingly good Doctor Who episodes so far, it’s hard to shake off old fears. Oh my God, I thought to myself, a historical episode about Rosa Parks and the Black Civil Rights Movement. Is Chibnall biting off more than he can chew? 

Thankfully Chibnall had the good sense to hire a co-writer that can keep his white privilege in check. Malorie Blackman. Author of the critically acclaimed Noughts and Crosses series of books depicting an alternative reality where Africans developed a technological advantage over Europeans and where white people are segregated under this world’s version of the Jim Crow laws. It’s safe to say that Blackman knows a thing or two about exploring racism and, being a black woman, she’s much more qualified to talk about issues of race and to represent Rosa Parks and the Civil Rights Movement as a whole than Chibnall is. The result is, without a shadow of a doubt, some of the best Doctor Who I’ve seen in years.

One thing I’m glad about is the way Rosa Parks is depicted. Historical stories (particularly New Who historical stories) have an unfortunate tendency to go completely over the top with it. It’s just not enough to have a character who played a significant part in human history. Oh no. They’ve also got to be the specialist, most important person in the whole wide universe. The result is that we’re often left with a wafer thin episode that completely romanticises the period of history the story is trying to depict, waters down all the more complicated and unsavoury parts of the historical setting and turns the famous historical figure into a shallow caricature of themselves (see Agatha Christie in Unicorn And The Wasp, Winston Churchill in Victory Of The Daleks and Vincent Van Gogh in Vincent And The Doctor). Rosa, thankfully, doesn’t fall into the same trap. Rosa Parks isn’t treated as a god among mortals. She’s treated like an ordinary person, thus making her actions that much more powerful.

Vinette Robinson (who appeared in a previous Chibnall penned story 42) does an incredible job playing Rosa Parks. Again, more emphasis is placed on how ordinary she is rather than how historically significant. Nowadays we of course view her as the genesis of the Black Civil Rights Movement and she has rightly been praised and immortalised for that, but it’s easy to forget that she was a real person behind the legacy, which is what the episode really delves into. We get to see her fear, sadness and frustration in this oppressive society. And it really brings home how mundane her actions really are. Sure we can see from hindsight how her actions would influence others and change the course of history, but she wasn’t some heroic freedom fighter taking a stand. She was a woman who just wanted to sit down on a bus after a hard day at work. And the fact that she, Martin Luther King and other black people actually had to fight for the right to do something so trivial is utterly ridiculous.

Some have criticised the episode saying that this is too heavy a subject matter to deal with at 7pm on a Sunday evening. I couldn’t disagree more. For one thing, this isn’t the first time Doctor Who has handled difficult subject matters (Nazism and genocide have frequently cropped up in past stories after all). But I think the criticism mostly stems from people (white people) being left feeling uncomfortable by the story and are trying to avoid having a serious conversation about it NRA style, claiming that this isn’t the right time for it. Well... when is it the right time? Nobody wants to have this conversation, sure, but we’ve still got to have it. And as uncomfortable viewing as it is, it’s important that it is not sugar-coated and that we’re reminded of how difficult things were for non-white people so that shit like this never happens again. So no, I didn’t think the use of violence against black people or racially charged language up to and including the n word were inappropriate. It was an accurate depiction of the environment at the time and if you felt uncomfortable by that, then congratulations, that’s precisely what you’re supposed to feel.

In fact I honestly thought the episode’s depiction of violence against black people was quite restrained, making the acts of discrimination that much more despicable in my eyes. Using gratuitous violence would have been a cheap shot and Chibnall and Blackman mercifully avoid that route. What makes the episode so chilling to watch isn’t the things that white people do, but rather the oppressive atmosphere they create. It’s not the arrogant tosspot slapping Ryan across the face for touching his wife’s glove that had me on edge. It was the scene after that where everyone is just silently staring at the TARDIS crew in the cafe that really made me feel queasy. The threat is implied, yet constant, which is infinitely scarier. After the likes of Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss boasting about how their episodes were going to be ‘the scariest Doctor Who stories ever’ only for them to amount to a hodge-podge of tired horror cliches and a dumb monster going ‘boo’, it’s a relief to see writers take a more subtle ‘less is more’ approach. I’m sorry, but the bus driver glaring angrily at Rosa is much more terrifying than a Weeping Angel. Period.

Which brings me to Krasko, played with smug charm by Joshua Bowman who succeeds at making you want to reach through the screen and punch his racist face repeatedly. Again, some have criticised the episode for its ‘one dimensional villain’ and, again, it only seems to be white people making this criticism. Not to make sweeping generalisations here, but non-white fans seem to be largely happy with how Krasko was written and depicted, probably because they’ve had to deal with pricks like him at least once in their lives. I’m guessing the source of the criticism comes from him not having a backstory or concrete motivation other than he hates black people. But my response to that is... does he really need one? Would Krasko have really been a more interesting character if it was revealed that he was bullied in school or a black kid had stolen his My Little Pony lunchbox? Does there really need to be a reason for why he hates black people and wants to ‘put them in their place’? I would have thought him being a racist white person would have been enough reason to hate him frankly. Let’s not forget what happened when Star Wars and Marvel respectively gave their villains Kylo Ren and Kilgrave tragic backstories to provide context for their despicable actions, at which point the fans proceeded to romanticise the fuck out of them, calling them misunderstood. Maybe (and this is just my opinion) giving Krasko a backstory wouldn’t have made him more interesting, but instead would have been seen as an attempt to justify and excuse his shitty behaviour, and maybe, just maybe, we’re better off without one. Just a thought.

Besides, it’s not as if we don’t learn anything about Krasko. We’re given enough information to work with. He’s a time traveller from the future. He was put in prison for murdering two thousand people (quick side note, did anyone else laugh when the Doctor said the Stormcage was the most secure prison in the universe? Remind me, how many times did River Song break out again?). He’s clearly intelligent, as demonstrated by him coming up with a non-violent plan to ruin the lives of generations of non-white people in order to circumvent his neural inhibitors. While it’s never overtly mentioned, he’s clearly some future version of the alt-right and is there to act as an extension of the true villain of the story. Because that’s the thing the people criticising his character have overlooked. Krasko isn’t the villain. White people are. The society Rosa Parks lives in is the true villain. Krasko is there not just to get to the plot going, but also to subtly demonstrate that while things do get better for non-white citizens, there will always be that racist element within our society. Hell, Ryan and Yasmin even spell it out for you in their conversation whilst hiding from the police. While people like Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King made a huge impact and helped change things for the better, racism and prejudice hasn’t just magically gone away. It’s still around. There are still people who cling on to these extremist and bigoted views. Some might argue that racism has become so entrenched in Western society that it will never fully go away. That there will always be some remnant hanging around. That’s what Krasko represents. So if you thought he was a rubbish villain because he had ‘no backstory or motivation’ then I’m afraid you’ve completely missed the point.

I should also applaud Chibnall and Blackman for resisting the urge to shove in some pointless alien like other historicals have. Not only would that have distracted from Rosa’s story, the racist white people are scary enough thank you very much. While there are sci-fi elements in here, the episode quite rightfully focuses on people.

Speaking of people, let’s talk about the TARDIS crew. Yeah! They’re in this episode too! Haven’t really talked about them much, have I? The Doctor largely takes a backseat in this one, which I know some people have a problem with, but I think it was the right thing to do. We don’t want an alien white woman coming in and stealing Rosa Parks�� glory. Jodie Whittaker graciously lets Vinette Robinson take centre stage while she busies herself with other things like confronting and intimidating Krasko and organising fake raffles with Frank Sinatra. I really like the balance they’ve struck between light and dark with this Doctor (something Moffat tried to do with Peter Capaldi’s Doctor and failed at miserably). She’s funny, compassionate and caring, but there’s a little bit of Sylvester McCoy’s devious cunning in there too, which really comes to the forefront here. Did anyone else find it really disconcerting seeing the Doctor try to maintain history? Influencing events so that Rosa Parks had no choice, but to give up (or refuse to give up) her seat. While we know she’s doing it for the right reasons, in order to keep black history in check, she’s still nonetheless actively contributing to Rosa’s misery, which is actually a clever way of exploring how white people all contribute to a racist status quo, directly, indirectly, intentionally and unintentionally. And of course it all culminates in the Doctor and co refusing to give up their seats in order to keep history intact. The look on Thirteen’s face as events unfold says it all. The look of sheer sadness and self loathing, knowing she played a part in this, is haunting. Same goes for Graham’s realisation. The widower of a black woman and step-grandfather to a black teenager being forced to contribute to this racist institution is utterly heartbreaking.

But the standout of the main cast has to be Ryan. Tosin Cole truly shines in this episode, giving an incredibly powerful and moving performance. This in many ways is his episode as he comes face to face with the racist prejudices of the time period and Cole rises to the occasion. My favourite scene has to be when Ryan talks with Rosa, thanking her for everything she will do in the future and promising that things will get better. It’s incredibly emotional and I actually started tearing up with him. I’m also so happy that he was the one that got to beat Krasko at the end rather than the Doctor. I stood up and cheered. And his reaction to seeing Martin Luther King has got to be one of the most charming moments of the series so far.

Rosa is unquestionably one of the strongest episodes in all of Doctor Who. It’s incredibly well written and performed and it’s extremely powerful as well as being very subtle and nuanced. What’s more, I’m now completely sold on Chris Chibnall being the showrunner. Any lingering doubts I’ve may have had are now completely evaporated after this episode. Rosa proves that not only does Chibnall respect and value diversity both in front of and behind the camera, but that he’s also committed to creating something truly special with his tenure, using the Doctor Who format to explore hard hitting and difficult subject matters with care and respect. Truly excellent television.

[imagine-always-and-forever]

Flutterings & Tequila - Part 6

A Klaus Mikaelson Imagine

Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson x Reader

Summary: you’ve decided to go clubbing with your best friend the last summer before college starts to take your mind off of the Mikaelsons who have invaded your life this summer. Specifically, you’re trying to distract yourself from Niklaus Mikaelson and the flutterings he has caused you. Tequlia is your friend tonight.

Part Summary:  it’s time for your date to the art museum with Klaus

Warnings: typical stuff you’d see in the show

Word count: 4,006

Authors note: a bit of a longer part for you! I do have to say that I had so many feels writing this. This is like my absolute perfect date. Especially with him. Anyway, apart from being terribly self-indulgent, this is a little longer than normal since there was so much detail to go into it! I’ve found my love for this series again and I hope you enjoy this as much as I did!

Part 1  |   Part 2  | Part 3  | Part 4  | Part 5

By the time you were ready, you quite honestly could have used a drink. It was a good thing your best friend was there because between having to do your hair and make-up to choosing your outfit, that alone would have taken at least two hours if you were by yourself. Not to mention the shoes and keeping yourself calm from the fact that you were actually doing this.

You shut the door on your best friend after one final wave. Three minutes to go. What should you do for three minutes? Maybe you should touch up your make-up or your perfume? Oh. Wait. A better idea!

Maybe you should figure out just what in the hell was going on here because there was no way that this was just a date. Whatever had brought the Mikaelsons here was not going to be taking a night off so Klaus could take you to an art museum. Was it a setup? Should you call Josie? Maybe they were luring you into a trap?

Of course, you are a witch. It isn’t like you’re defenceless. If someone came at you it wouldn’t take much effort to send them flying in the opposite direction. You grew concerned, wringing your hands as a thought occurred to you: Just what exactly did Klaus want with you? It very well might be your magic. With Josie out the way, he’d have an easier time getting you alone. As he has managed to do already since you’re about to go on a date with him. There was no telling what would happen next. He could force you into doing something for him. Maybe he was holding Josie as a hostage to make you do as he wanted.

You didn’t want to think that he was doing that. He was fully capable of it and probably has done that in the past. You weren’t a fool and though you felt these flutterings, you tried to remind yourself every day just who you were dealing with.

The doorbell rang at four o’clock on the dot.

Opening the door, expected to find Klaus. It was not Klaus. It was a random person in a tux that you had never seen before. You glanced behind them to see if you could spot Klaus but he wasn’t there. Eyeing them up, you supposed he was coming.

Guess he’d gotten caught up with whatever it was that was going on around here and had to cancel.

“Are you Y/N?” the man asked. You nodded. “I’m here to take you to the Art Museum.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I thought Klaus was taking me,” you said with suspicion. You didn’t add that it was for a date because you still weren’t sure if that was what this really was. Certainly not a proper date. Besides, Klaus had said he would come by and pick you up. And now some man was trying to get you into the – was that a limo? – car to supposedly take you to the museum?

“Mr.Mikaelson unexpectedly had to go out and will be awaiting our arrival at the museum,” the man explained.

Unexpectedly had to go out. Right. You eyed the man up. How likely was it that Klaus could casually wrap up whatever had suddenly called him away just in time to get to the museum for your “date?” Clicking your tongue with thought, you weighed up the situation.

Well, you were already dressed up. You didn’t change out of your sweatpants and do your makeup for nothing.

“Okay,” you conceded and with that, the man led you out to the limo.

The seats of the limo were luxurious leather and there was a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice. There was also an assortment of small snacks and various types of water. Calm music played over the speakers and between you and the driver was a dark divide. You watched out the window, your suspicion of what this was all about and your nerves starting to grow.

By the time you reached the museum, you had no idea what to think. Every explanation for what was happening just either didn’t make sense or could all be plausible. You didn’t know why the Mikaelsons were at that club or why they were even in town for that matter. You didn’t know why Klaus had taken an interest in you. You didn’t know why he asked you on a date. You didn’t know why he was called away. You didn’t know where he got this driver and if he was compelled. You didn’t know what would happen if you tried not to come. You didn’t know what would happen when you would get there. You didn’t know what you were going to do if he wasn’t there or if he was. You didn’t know anything and though you’d thought about these things all day, you still didn’t have even close to an answer.

The driver opened your door, standing to the side as your eyes adjusted to the bright light outside. You stepped out onto the curb, seeing that he had pulled right up front to the museum. People walking around the streets and around the museum stopped to stare at you. You blushed and hid your face behind your hair.

Who took a limo to an art museum?

“There you are, love. I was getting worried,” Klaus’s voice sounded from your left.

You turned to see Klaus standing there looking handsome with a smile coming to his face as he looked at you. He wore a dress shirt and jeans. It was smart casual and you felt some gratitude for your best friend for suggesting the blouse and dark jeans you were wearing.

Klaus’s eyes raked over your body. That was interest you saw in his eyes, you were sure of it. But it did not mean this was a real date. Despite trying to tell yourself not to hope and keep your guard up, seeing Klaus look at you like that still made you flutter. As Klaus walked towards you, you stopped caring about the people staring at you.

“You look exquisite as always,” Klaus said, leaning in as if he was telling you a secret just for you to hear, an intense look in his eyes and a smirk on his face.

“Thank you and thank you for the limo,” you said. Klaus smiled. You saw on his collar there was a small blood stain. “I heard you got called away?”

Klaus looked unphased and shrugged it off. “Yes, a family matter,” he explained. You nodded. Clearly, another thing you’d be kept in the dark about. You’d think you would be used to it by know. Klaus held his arm out. “Shall we?”

When you took his arm, there was a part of you that expected something to happen. The kind of something that would make you see the dangerous side of Klaus. That didn’t happen, though. However, something else did.

As your arm slipped between his, you felt a tingle at touching him run up your arm and through your body. The feeling of his body touching you, of the weight and warmth, of the security, even if it was just his arm, was a little breathtaking. You couldn’t help but stare at it, almost in a daze, as he walked with you to the entrance of the museum.

You could feel your heart racing a bit at being led, arm in arm, up the grand stone staircase by him. He who you couldn’t stop thinking about being right next to you, linking your arms together and about to walk into an art museum. It was a little surreal. Knowing that he could probably hear your beating quickly heart made you blush. Perhaps it would have been best to drink some of that champagne you had seen in the limo. You tried letting your hair fall into your face again to hide your blush.

Klaus flashed something to the guards and you walked right in, bypassing the lines and security check. He guided you straight through a set of large and ornate wooden double doors. Inside, the museum opened up to reveal a beautiful array of breathtaking artwork. You found yourself stepping forward, letting your hand slip from his arm as you looked around in awe.

They were beautiful. You had no idea there was such a gem of an art museum here. Some of this work looked like significant pieces in the art world. You spotted names of famous artists and breathed in an amazed gasp. This was wonderful.

“I didn’t know this existed,” you said as Klaus walked up to you, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked around at the paintings.

“It’s a special exhibition for the next few nights only,” he explained.

“Is that why there was security?”

“Yes.”

“But you got passed it?” you asked, and turned to smile mischievously at him. You both knew how he managed that. He smirked in response and laughed. You grinned and turned to look at the paintings.

“This is what you wanted, correct?” Klaus asked as he watched you take it in. You nodded. “I believe,” Klaus said, and you tore your eyes away from a Van Gogh to look at him, “you said you wished to hear about the paintings?”

You smiled. Yeah. You did. Hearing about the history of these painting from Klaus was a serious honour. He was probably the most knowledgeable art historian on the planet. Not to mention, as an artist himself, he’d be able to explain the significance of what you were seeing. He could explain the history and the context, he could explain the background of it all. In fact, he could probably tell you a few personal stories about the painter himself.

“Where shall we start?” he asked with an excited smile.

You looked around until you spotted a painting of a woman in an off-white outfit sitting alone on her bed with angels watching her. You pointed at it. “Here.”

Klaus and you walked over, and he took in the painting. His eyes scanned over it and he absorbed every detail about it. He read the name of the artist, nodding, and then tilting his head, he thought for a while about what he was looking at.

You watched as he did this, feeling a wave of awe wash over you at him. There was something about the way he was with art. You’d seen it when you walked in that time when he was painting. It was as if a flower existed inside Klaus. A beautiful and unique flower. A delicate flower that needed to flourish in the sun and be seen by all for its magnificence. But a flower that was kept hidden away so the world wouldn’t hurt it. Protected and secure as it was too vulnerable and precious to risk. A flower that everything else in Klaus protected at all costs. And yet, with art, the flower was revealed. It came out, often when nobody else was around or everyone was too busy to be aware of it. As it was out, it blossomed even more beautifully and thrived in the colours of the paints and freedom of the art Klaus was immersed in.

You weren’t sure if Klaus would particularly like being aware that you were comparing this part of him to a flower. But there was no other more accurate way you could think of as this was exactly what was happening. This flower was like Klaus’s core. Like his soul. And, despite all the stories and what Klaus himself believed, it was rather beautiful.

“What do you see?” Klaus asked.

You startled a little when you suddenly found his blue eyes on you. He smiled in amusement, and you let your hair fall to cover your blush again. You swallowed and looked at the painting.

You took note of everything you saw. The girl. She had dark hair and dark eyes. She had a long oval face. Her eyes were downcast, looking at something in her hands. It was a small box. Golden and bright. Out of place amongst the room, she was in.

The room itself was rather large but held little in it. It was messy. There was a wooden table with things on it. Letters, jewellery, a mug, some grapes. There was a dresser behind the bed, old and beaten up. Clothes were hanging out of it. On the worn wooden floor were clothes, papers, and pieces of trash. The fireplace was large. Too large for the room. It was crumbling, as were the walls. Cobwebs covered it and there was no firewood in it. Above the fireplace hung a simple cross.

At the top of the girl’s bed was a window. Stained glass. It looked far too beautiful for the room. The light shone in brightly and a beam of it cut through the grim of the floor. Another beam lit the fireplace up with a warm glow in an otherwise cold room. And a third beam warmed the girl’s face up.

The angels sat above, almost as if they were outside the painting looking in. They were chubby and softly painted. Their blue eyes gazed down at the scene. Some of them were reaching down into the painting. Others were playing the harp or holding small beaded bracelets in their hands. One leaned back, almost as if against the top of where the chimney would poke out. His blonde curls cradled his face and his dark eyes looked at the girl.

You told all these details to Klaus. He nodded as you listed them. When you were done, you looked at him for more instruction.

“But what do you see?” he asked.

You frowned. Had you missed a detail? You walked closer and peered at every inch of the canvas, so much so that you were taking note of each brush stroke and where more paint from the brush had gotten onto the canvas than other places.

“Look for the meaning behind the details,” Klaus advised you. He walked up close, standing next to you. He pointed at the window. “See the contrast of the warmth it brings into the room?” You nodded. “Can you feel the only warmth it brings?” You nodded, concentrating on the light. “How does it make you feel?”

“Found.”

Klaus moved closer to you and turned your head so you would look to the right. “And the state of the room?”

“Forgotten.”

Klaus nodded. Suddenly, you saw so much more.

“And the object in her hand feels hot. The light beams feel like something is pointing me somewhere. I’m not just found but welcome.” Your eyes look to the angels. “None of the angels except that one is looking at her. And they have the same eyes.” Your own eyes dart to the girl. “She’s sad, desperately sad. But the angels are there to watch over her yet only one seems to connect with her sadness.

“They all are calling for her to turn to god. But she’s turned away because she’s lost. The light is guiding her, assuring her, but she’s not sure if she’s ready to be found. She’s drowning. The angel that’s looking at her is the only one without anything in it’s hand. The golden box she holds is the angel’s box. It’s his because he is hers. She’s a young woman that’s lost her child and now that he’s an angel, he’s looking down at her so she won’t be alone.

“It represents loss.”

You stepped back, your eyes tearing at the meaning in the painting. Beside you, Klaus was quiet.

“Tell me about the painting technique,” you asked him. You looked over to him, your eyes still shining, and the expression on his face was soft and caring. He nodded and turned back to the painting.

You listened to Klaus explain the brush technique. He explained the colour choices and their texture. He explained what the paint used was made of and how they blended it. He told you about the history of the painter, someone he hadn’t known personally but admired. He told you about the world at that time and the context gave more life to the painting in front of you. He told you everything there was possible to tell about this painting.

When he was done, he glanced at you to see if he had bored you. Your eyes were dancing in interest and wonder. His smile was hesitant. He stepped closer to you and told you to look into the paint at the bottom right corner. You did. He told you a secret the painters did at the time. When you focused hard, you could see the specks of the wrong colour in the paint. Klaus told you it was a signature, made with paint that was homemade, making it courser but also harder to remove from the other paint around it. It was like choosing to write in permanent pen on the canvas and painting over it so nobody could erase your name form your work. You smiled.

Klaus watched you take the painting in again. The flower was blooming and you were fluttering.

“Tell me about this one,” you asked him, walking over to another painting.

Klaus followed and the whole process started over again. You did this for hours, stopping at painting after painting and learning everything you could from Klaus. You loved hearing him explain it all to you.

There was something about how he spoke about the art that made your flutter more. There was a warmth in his voice that had you knowing you could listen to him forever and never want him to stop talking. It was soothing, in a way. And you loved when he gave his opinion on the pieces you saw. You loved hearing him talk about the art.

After Klaus finished a story about one painting, you noticed that there was nobody else in the museum. There were no windows, so you had no idea what time it was and you hadn’t looked at your phone since you were at your house. How long had you been here? Where had everyone gone?

“Love,” Klaus said, his voice soft and quiet.

You looked at him, seeing something in his eyes you couldn’t place. For a moment, you forgot all about your worries. This had been the most enjoyable day you’ve had in years and you could truly say the past however many hours it has been, has been your happiest. You didn’t want this to end.

Klaus stepped closed to you.

There, in the empty museum, with some of the most prized paintings in the world, you stood inches away from him. The chill of the stone walls and marble floors faded into the background. The lights seemed to dim around you and all alone, the two of you felt like the only people in the world. Your heart picked up and you couldn’t look away from him. You let your hair fall in your face for some kind of protection against the vulnerability of him seeing your reddened cheeks. You couldn’t move back as he closed the distance between you, your eyes glued to him as the flutterings filled your body.

Klaus reached out and his hand came up to brush your hair out of your face. His eyes soaked you in, all of you. You still weren’t able to move. You might not be breathing. Klaus’s gaze came to rest on yours and you realized of all the beautiful paintings you saw, his eyes put them all to shame. At the thought, you felt yourself blush further and once again tried to hide behind your hair.

“Don’t,” Klaus said so very quietly. You glanced up at him from behind dark lashes. “I like seeing you blush,” he admitted and for the first time ever, you saw a shy smile on his face.

You wanted to say something. Anything. But no words would come. You let Klaus brush your hair behind your ear, his hand lingering. It came down to softly caress your cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. It was too intense. To intimate. You were losing to the flutterings.

Klaus leaned in.

Your eyes drifted to his lips and suddenly you felt fear shoot through you. The sheer anticipation of him kissing you, the very idea of it, was terrifying. You weren’t ready. Not yet. Not right now. You couldn’t speak or move away. You couldn’t deny your desire or the moment urging you, calling to you desperately, but kissing was impossible.

Klaus’s lips were going to touch yours any moment. His hand was holding your chin softly like you were precious. You couldn’t be sure if his eyes were on yours or your lips because you simply couldn’t look anywhere other than his own plump lips so close to yours. His breath fanned over your lips and your eyes slid closed.

You waited.

“How about we go for that ice cream?” Klaus asked.

It took you a moment to understand what he had just said. Slowly, you open your eyes. Klaus was no longer standing so close to you. It was as if he had never been about to kiss you. Had he been about to kiss you? Had you imagined it all?

You felt a turmoil of emotions but Klaus was waiting for your answer. You smiled.

“Sure,” you said, surprised your voice worked at all.

The two of you walked back through the museum and you discovered you really were the only ones left inside. Klaus had your arm in his again. He opened the door for you and you walked out into the dark night.

Oh.

The stars sparkled above you and the moon lit up the street. You looked around and saw families and couples taking nighttime strolls. Klaus guided you down the stairs, not saying a word as your time in the museum turned into a surreal memory. By the time you reached the last step, it was as if you had stepped out of a fantasy.

But Klaus was still on your arm, or rather, you were still on his. You allowed yourself a smile. Just a small one. This wasn’t so bad. Maybe a date is just a date after all.

Why you? It was the new question that was rattling around your head. Why did you make him look at you like that? Why you? What was about you? You glanced at Klaus, who was walking with his head held high and his eyes forward, and you traced his handsome profile. Why him?

You supposed love didn’t really have to answer to anyone.

“I know a fabulous little creamery down the corner,” Klaus said as you gazed at him during your epiphany. He had a peaceful smile on his face and a look of anticipation in his eyes. “What do you say we see if they’re still open?”

“Sounds perfect,” you say and if your voice is a little faint, Klaus doesn’t notice.

The creamery is indeed open. The shop itself is tiny. When Klaus said it was on the corner he really did mean it. As if wedged into the curve of the building, a glass door opened into about a three-foot tiled floor. Enough for maybe one person while the rest was taken up by the ice-cream display. There were four flavours: vanilla cream, chocolate, mint, and fruit. The fruit was whatever was the fruit of the day.

Klaus asked you what you wanted and you responded with your favourite flavour out of those four. He disappeared inside while you waited. The man inside was old and grey, and immediately recognized Klaus. You saw him smile and they talked. It was nice to see and you gave them privacy as you looked up to the stars above.

That was the last thing you remembered.