#cause I have too much need to add detail to do the gravity falls style all the time

[urlocalbitchboy]

Screencap redraw in one of my styles ☺️

[stellarcat52]

Timeless Blue Chapter Two

Okay so apparently I’m just gonna add this little bit to every chapter as a little authors note. So chapter two is here, and as I stop caring about what canonically is happening in whatever scene in writing, the more the style will reflect my normal writing style. On that note, does anyone care how much I deviate from the canon? Like change potentially important plot details aside? Cause uh... yeah I don’t have the greatest impulse control and might mix this with another Au I had in mind. Either way, I hope you enjoy.

Krel, Douxie, Claire, and a crystallized Jim free fall through the rift. Thanks to Douxie’s anti-gravity spells, no lasting damage aside from a crack in Jim’s crystalline savior was dealt.

Krel landed behind Douxie and beside Palchuck, barely being missed by Jim falling from the trees above a moment later.

“What happened?” Steve groaned from under Jim.

“Well,” Douxie started, “I just conjured and anti-gravity spell to slow our fall and keep us from dying. You’re welcome.”

“Douxie? Where is the flying castle?”

“Oh fuzz buckets.”

Knights in metal armor surround them, shouting and communicated within their own ranks.

“This means, we’re lost in time.”

“Time?! I know the geezer said the answers were in the past but time travel shouldn’t be technologically possible for any species yet!”

“What manor of sorcery is this?” A mounted knight demands.

Douxie reaches back and grabs Krel’s hand, “Don’t use your serrator, just follow my lead.” He whispers to the Akiridion, the message being conveyed to the other two as well. However, Steve freaking out did not help their case.

Douxie and Krel look up to see the Knight had taken off his helmet. “Sir Lancelot, um...”

“He’s so handsome..” Steve said, earning a questioning look from Krel and Claire before a sword was pointed at them.

“Wait! Aren’t you Merlin’s errand boy?” Lancelot’s sword crept closer to Douxie’s neck. “I hope you can explain why you are associating with a troll.” Lancelot points to Krel with his blade.

“Hey!”

“Apprentice, first of all, and Krel is not a troll.”

“He’s like an angel man.” Steve daydreams, leaning a little too much on Jim’s encasement. The green material shatters, waking him from his life-preserving sleep. “Woah!”

Douxie jumps up and away from Jim, Krel instinctively reaching for his serrator before remembering Douxie’s words.

“The devil-?”

As Lancelot leans back towards Jim, a red and black armored troll arm breaches the air.

“What? How did I-?”

“Jim! Are you okay?”

“Troll! Troll! To arms!”

Jim is met with two very different reactions, a hug from his girlfriend, and multiple swords being pointed at him.

Douxie starts to jump to protect Jim, a blue hand grabs the edge of his shirt too late to stop him. Douxie proceeds to try and convince Lancelot that Jim is a good troll, which is much harder to convince him of than Krel not being a troll at all.

“You will hang before the king for your insolence.”

====

Jim communes with Claire, Douxie, and his very reluctant cage-mate Krel to try and learn what’s going on before the group is brought before the king. Ending with a promise from Douxie that he’d explain everything once everyone was safe.

After a quick reminder to let Douxie handle this, introductions and explanations are due. Thankfully, Steve was more than happy to shut up once Krel reminded him there was no service in the dark ages and that if he said something wrong he wouldn’t be able to say bye to Aja.

“This is Claire of house Nuñez, and Steve of Palchuckia, a village idiot and uh knight in training.” Douxie starts, pointing to each person as he spoke, “and believe it or not, this is Prince Krel from house Tarron of Cantalupia.” Douxie cautiously opened the cage, bringing Krel out and implying Jim should stay there.

“I have not heard of Cantalupia.” Arthur watched every movement Krel made, from every step he took before standing behind Douxie to every subtle nerve driven shift in his weight.

“That’s to be expected. Before now-“ Douxie quickly gets cut off.

“I’ll have this supposed prince explain it to me.” Arthur snapped. “Explain why you are here, Prince Krel of Cantalupia.”

“Alright, well as the errand boy here explained, I am not a troll. I was cursed to appear like this and have been looking for a wizard to remove it. I would like to formerly request permission to stay here alongside my companions.” Krel gestured to Claire, and Steve, who were giving the Akiridion strange wide-eyed glances.

Arthur pointed Excalibur at the sunny patch in the middle of the floor. “Prove you are not a troll first. Step into the sunlight.”

Krel steps forwards, being followed by a pair of not-so-subtle knights every step until he stands in full daylight in front of the king. “I am no troll, or is this not enough to prove to you my story?”

Arthur’s tensions fade, his grip no longer iron on the hilt of Excalibur. “Alright.”

“Now that that is out of the way, I believe this beast deserves an explanation too, errand boy.” Lancelot pulled Jim out of the cage, forcing him to kneel in the shadows where everyone could see him. “He is most definitely not a cursed prince as your friend here seems to be.”

Douxie lets out a hissing breath, clearly not able to explain the troll. Thankfully, Arthur’s immediate rage was not aimed at anyone proven to not be a troll.

“A troll! I thought I made it very clear your kind is not welcome here when I banished you.”

“Don’t you mean betrayed?” Morgana steps out of the shadows, pushing her way into Arthur’s focus. “You gave the woods to enchanted creatures like these, would you break that vow?”

“These beasts care not of my vow. Especially not spies of Gunmar.”

“Stop calling me a beast!” Jim lunged forwards, held back by Lancelot and another knight. “Wait, Gunmar?”

“Uh, your highness,” Douxie coughs, “it’s good to see you again.”

“And who are you?”

“Hisirdoux, Merlin’s apprentice. I assure to you, he,” he gestures to Jim, “is no threat.”

“That is my judgement to make boy.” Arthur thunders.

Morgana lights up her hand, a ball of golden magic wandering as she speaks. “Trolls are born of magic, and you are of blood. How is their nature a crime?”

Krel had seen something like this before, the students standing up for him and Aja when Colonel Kubritz was looking for them in school.

“When they ravage our lands and take our loved ones from us? I made these laws to keep this fragile land together, and they will be abided.” Arthur shouted. “Leave the wood, the penalty is death. Bring this monster to the light.”

As Jim was carried to the light, protesting and claiming he wasn’t a troll, the entire group went to save him. Douxie attempting to reason with Arthur, Krel using his four arms to try and avoid being grabbed as well and prevent Jim from joining him under the sun, Steve starting to rush forwards but being cut off, and Claire protesting as she was grabbed just as quickly.

Everything happened too fast to understand. The shadows crept out of the corners and flooded where the light should be. In the corner of Krel’s eyes, Claire seemed to have blackened sclera until the light was gone, and the future Trollhunter was safe. Arthur, of course, blamed Morgana, who seemed to be the only person who wasn’t from the 21st century to realize it wasn’t her who had done this. Claire defended her boyfriend, claiming his innocence even if he was a troll.

“Evil is not inherited, it does not corrupt one species more than another. Claire is right to believe a troll, despite how evil you believe them, can be good.” The Extraterrestrial spoke.

“That means nothing Prince. This is my kingdom and I shall not fail it. These beasts are still dangerous, we are still at war."

“If you give into your fear, that is failing.”

“The girl and the prince speak truth. Please listen to them brother.”

Krel gives Douxie a questioning look, not seeing the family resemblance. Douxie shrugs, nodding but understanding where Krel was coming from.

“Fine.” Arthur decided. “I will show the troll mercy. He will live... in the dungeon.”

“Jim!” Claire attempts to follow as he is taken to the dungeon, being stopped and comforted by Douxie.

“As for you, Hisirdoux, shouldn’t you be with Merlin?”

“Well, yes, but you see...” Douxie raked his mind for something to say “I was-“

“I apologize, your highness, but Hisirdoux was busy attempting to help me. I have communicated with him and he intends to help me get back into my original body. If it is impossible, I’ll understand, however. While we are here, if I appear human or not, I do believe my friends and I can help with this war that Hisirdoux has mentioned before.” Krel flares at Douxie as this war had not been mentioned before, who in response glares back as the Akiridion had just interrupted him. “In my country, I am known for my intellect, and I do not wish to take from someone without returning something.”

“So in exchange for me helping him and his curse, he, Claire, and Steve, will help us in the war.” Douxie summarized, not entirely sure if Krel is capable of getting his point through with his sudden usage of fancier tongue.

“Alright. Sir Steve will work with the knights, Prince Krel I believe should work with you, Hisirdoux, and as for mistress Claire?”

“I will take her. I’ve been in need of a new handmaiden.” Krel sees the pleas of help and burning anger in Claire’s eyes as Morgana steps up for her.

“Alright. Now go, I have a kingdom to protect.” Arthur ushered them away.

“Okay Krel what was that?” Steve hissed before the separated, the threat of not seeing Aja again still holding its effect. “Last I checked, you didn’t act like a prince much.”

“Theater practice at school.” Claire starts. “Krel has gotten very good at improv.”

“You are in the play?” Steve was astonished.

“Yes, while you have been too busy complaining about Eli and Aja going to Akiridion-5, I was increasing my knowledge on human culture, of the present and the past, or would it be the future and the present.”

“It doesn’t matter. Krel, you did amazing. I was here during this time and I still wasn’t as fast as you to know what to say!”

“Did you just say you were-are here?” Krel asked.

“Oh fuzz buckets.”

The group separates, although partially unwillingly. Steve goes with Sir Lancelot, Claire with Lady Morgana, and Krel with a very nervous Douxie.

Part one Part three

[zakthefiend]

My Eldar Headcanons

(BEFORE YOU READ THIS, KNOW I’M RELATIVELY NEW TO THE HOBBY AND HAVE ONLY RECENTLY BEGUN READING THE BOOKS AND CODEX. These are just some silly thoughts I had on the enigmatic but prideful race of space elves in 40k. All five factions!)

Aeldari as a whole:

There’s no LGBT organization since there never was a need for one. Due to the extended lifespans and being practically the oldest continuing race(besides necrons and orkz), they pretty much don’t care about sexuality. Gay, straight, bi, pan, ace, doesn’t matter to them one bit!

This also includes genders identification. They live for over a millennia, they have the time to not care about something that really isn’t bothersome.

Martial arts and duels are the most popular past time for any Aeldari. The sight of weapons clashing and fists flying has been a favored past time for them.

Philosophy and deep thinking is an natural quality they all share. You will not find a race better at poetic thought than the Aeldari.

The pride they still cling too is not unfounded. They are still the only ones to have wraithbone technology, they are the most psychically powerful species, have mastered the art of war beyond Millennia, and had the entire galaxy in the palms of their hands. They also still hold influence for a majority of the webway.

Ynnari are both a blessing and a curse to the eyes of the elves. One hand, they could lead them to a new era of salvation. Other hand, doom their species to complete and utter destruction. It’s a gamble, and this species is very adamant of taking any anymore.

Asuryani(Craftworld Eldar):

Not one Craftworld is the same as the other. Sure the core idea of Asuryani are the same, but years drifting in the void has added much more different traditions and practices. Biel-Tan, the most militaristic of the Craftworlds, probably have a heavy support to the military and has the most willing fighters in the Craftworld. Saim-hann meanwhile, probably prefer to race and show off their speed however way they can.

There are still festivities and celebrations on the Craftworlds, their just not as big as grand as say a Drukhari party. To avoid Slaanesh, excess in anything is restrained as possible, and you can enjoy yourself as long as you don’t have TOO much fun. They try to find the balance between the two, but end up constricting it’s people to tightly.

Those who follow the path of a warrior are treated similarly to celebrities. This has caused many who want fame and recognition to go down the paths. You can imagine how much they change after actually going through with it. These same new bloods are given another chance to leave. They don’t allow those simply seeking fame and admiration instead of duty.

When Asuryani want to have sex, they have a special circlet that dampens the psychic presence they have to Tau levels of existence. It takes time to get used to, so it’s more common for insemination to be used instead. Still, the child cannot be brought in until the spirit stone has been prepared.

Minor Craftworlds(Craftworlds half the size of average Craftworlds) are much more likely to be raided, attacked, or pillaged. Those same ones are found going through the Webway more, escorted by Corsairs, or cutting deals with the Imperium than the usual ones. Don’t be fooled! They are still powerful vessels that would require some serious firepower to take out!

Asuryani are the most adamant on joining Yvrainne and her crusade. They’re goal is to survive, and joining the Ynnari is something they just risk. Only the exodites are more refusing.

Drukhari(Dark Eldar):

You know Victorian England? That’s the Drukhari. Except add metal music too. They believe in being the most upstanding individual in the most blatantly corrupt society. By being the absolute worst individuals imaginable.

Bondage resembling the movie hellraiser in public? Sure! Holding hands and showing affections? SCANDALOUS!

They are the true remnants of the Aeldari empire. Despite your opinion, they are the ones with the most technology from their empire, they were a legitimate faction in the empire, and they still follow customs from the empire. Since they are the ones that remember the customs(their cult customs) had done.

A kabal, coven, and cult will support each other just as much as they are willing to try and kill each other. They can’t outright since each faction has something that is incredibly precious to the Drukhari. Coven: Biological and Scientific manipulation, Cults: Entertainment and scout knowledge(A wych cult were the first to discover the Tyranids for the Drukhari), and Kabals: Military and order. 

Cults, Kabals, and Covens bring in slaves but never the same type. Wyches will take as many type of species as they can, Kabals LOVE to take high ranking individuals to play with, and Covens will find the strongest just to fuck with.

They still believe in their gods, but not as much as the others might. Khaine being popular with the wyches, but the others tend to do their own things instead of listening or wasting time on serving a dead god.

Nobles still exist, but their power and influence have diminished almost entirely. Very few even retain some aspects of their previous power.

Despite the daemonic incursions, infighting, chaos warbands, imperial might, and Tyranid invasions, the Drukhari are the most likely to outlast the other Eldars.

Corsairs(Pirate Eldar):

The most likely type of eldar to meet. As well as the most honest of their kin, since as long as you don’t cross them you’ll be fine. Human relationships are better... but only as much as you can expect from the xenophobic Imperium.

They have seen the most of the galaxy, and yet, they have barely found the entirety of the galaxy’s secrets. 

They were the first Eldars to discover the Tyranids that enter the galaxy, but it was only in hushed whispers and rumors. Originally just some species of space whales or a new kind of daemon than what the galaxy will soon learn.

They are by fat, the best fliers and maneuvers in the galaxy. No other species can match their speed and agility as they fly across the stars. You need to get to somewhere quickly and safely? Get a corsair!

They are the bulk of Yvraine’s fleet and soldiers. After all, everything is coming to the end... why not go out swinging?

Adventurers, pirates, mercenaries, their whatever they need to be when it comes to the job. Mon’keigh, Tau, Asuryani, even Drukhari, if there’s adventure and excitement(and a bit of coin never hurt anyone), they’ll be sure to do it!

Exodites(Tribal Eldar):

The only level of tech their willing to go to is basic black powder. No steampunk or western style eldar, Your more likely to find Neolithic to Medieval Exodites with them.

Everything is done with the bare minimum and done quietly to avoid the humans from discovering them. They’ve adapted to their own worlds, such as traveling silently by trees in dense forests or moving under the sands in dune worlds.

They do keep an advanced transmitter so to get help from a Craftworld or a passing by Corsair fleet if the world is too far gone to be habitable or they’ve been incredibly compromised. Look to what Vulkan did to the last Exodites on a planet for a better understanding...

Hit and run tactics, guerrilla warfare, scouting, and guides through death worlds, Exodites are widely used by other Aeldari in search through forgotten ruins or lost cities all decayed to almost dust. They avoid them as they were what brought their fall, and will allow the others to repeat the same lesson that they clearly haven’t learned.

Some have dinosaurs, others have large birds of prey, kraken sized squids, and pretty much any other beast of burden to aid them. Dinosaurs are just more well known because every species can agree that dinos are cool.

Harlequin(Clown Eldar):

When you see one running, probably best to run with that one. They’re never too far from showing a performance or from danger either! Expect a surprise no matter what the outcome!

The only eldar that are given passage anywhere due to how strange yet entrancing they are. Their arrival means a play will begin! However, what play that will be, entertainment or for bloodshed, is only found out too late. Be weary around them!

They speak in rhymes and poetry. This also includes anecdotes, haiku, hand gestures, charades(really good at those), or with tarot cards. The meaning being shrouded by mystery that only few have managed to figure out BEFORE it was executed...

If you haven’t guessed yet, they’re the most mysterious of the eldars. WHICH IS SAYING SOMETHING WITH ALL THIS SHROUDED MYSTERY FOR THEIR ENTIRE RACE! Sorry, got my gripe at how much more lore there is for Space Marines than... well anyone else really. To the topic! It is said they also reside in the webways like the Drukhari, but in more remote regions that not even they know!

The most flexible species in the galaxy. While much can be thanked by the gravity belt around their waist, they can still bend and flex in ways that could break your mind! Great for distractions, no denial there!

Their also the best dancers, play performers, artists, story tellers, and the most colorfully dressed Eldars as well! They could do an entire play of the Horus Heresy to PERFECT detail, but choose not to since humans wouldn’t like the thought of their god being a massive dick. They also purposely screw up a part in a play so not to give Slaanesh power from their performance. Only their god, Cegorach, may have their energy.

[iliketoeatmyself]

ED BOOKS

I stole this from mpa (because I wanted to save it) but I’m going to highlight those I’VE READ... also I might add some others as time goes... 

Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson (it was a good read!)

Solitaire by Aimee Liu * (Considered first anorexia memoir. Thus, there are points when EDs aren't completely understood, but still totally worth the read. Available through KU.)

Unbearable Lightness: A Story of Loss and Gain by Portia de Rossi (it was really good and real tbh)* (One of my faves! A memoir that really captivated me)

Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia * (Really is what it says on the tin and so much more. This memoir captures the darkest parts of EDs and is done very logically, stabilizing itself with facts that are intermixed by the chaos of EDs).

Just Listen by Sarah Dessen (Romance)

Thin by Lauren Greenfield (Nonfiction elements. Like the TV documentary of the same name, but of course, the book has more details.)

The Best Little Girl in the World by Steven Levenkron (NOT like the movie. Based on research of EDs in figure skating and gymnastics.)

Perfect by Natasha Friend

Purge: Rehab Diaries by Nicole J. Johns

Skinny by Ibi Kasliky

Loud Girl in the House of Myself: A Memoir of a Strange Girl by Stacy Pershall

Gaining: The Truth about Life After EDs by Aimee Liu (same author as Solitaire)

Identical by Ellen Hopkins * (Written in same manner as her other books, which is basically more like a poem than traditional novel format. LOVE this book and recommend the authors other, non ED books)

Letting Ana Go by Anonymous

Massive by Julia Bell

Keeping the Moon by Sarah Dessen (Romance)

Hungry: A Young Model's Story of Appetite Ambition and the Ultimate Embrace of Curves

She's Come Undone by Wally Lamb

Thin by Grace Bowman (memoir)

The Disappearing Girl by Heather Topham Wood (Romance, KU)

After the Strawberry by Adrienne Maria Vrettos

Purge by Sarah Darer Littman

Beautiful Me by Natasha Jennings

Hunger Point by Jillian Medoff (it was okay, the sister of mc has an ed)

Pointe by Brandy Colbert (Very dramatic. Deals with sexual abuse and also kidnapping in addition to an ED. Still not sure how I feel about this book, but a read that is very interesting, especially for those who like reading all things ballet. Also, this is nice because a black girl is not only a ballet dancer, but also has an ED, which is not portrayed enough!)

Looks by Madeleine George

Kessa by Steven Levenkron (I'd say this is probably for younger readers, but hey, you're never too old to read any book in my mind!)

My Sister's Bones by Cathi Hanauer * (Really liked this book and it isn't necessarily because of the ED part of it. I just like the whole feel and author's style)

Parperweight by Meg Haston

You Remind Me of You: A Poetry Memoir by Eireann Corrigan

Chalked Up: Inside Elite Gymnastics' Merciless Coaching, Overzealous Parents, Eating Disorders and Elusive Olympic Dreams by Jennifer Sey (Wow, that's a mouth full!)

Believarexic by J.J. Johnson

Feeling For Bones by Bethany Pierce

More Than You Can Chew by Marnelle Tokio

A Dance of Sisters by Tracey Porter

Gravity Journal by Gail Sobat

Elena Vanishing by Elena Dunkle (A memoir written with her mother)

Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver (Haven't read this in a long time, but I remember liking it)

A Trick of the Light by Lois Metzger * (One of my favourites! About a male with an ED.)

Starved by Michael Somers (Another good male ED novel)

Reckoning Daze by Michael Beaulieu (Currently free kindle edition is available)

Thin (Sharing Spaces Book 3) by Alicia Michaels (This is part of a romance series and is the third book. This one focuses on the ED character, but there are hints to the ED in other books. You don't necessarily need to read the other books in the series and can figure things out without reading them first. I actually read this book before the others)

Cake Dreams: A Memoir of Survival by Hoyt Phillips * (Another male ED book. Great multi-faceted portrayal of EDs and general metal illness. Available on KU)

Not My Father's Son: A Memoir by Alan Cumming * (It's been a while since I've read it, but I recall there being an ED. The book does not focus on the ED, but it is thrown in there, adding to an already fascinating, interesting read.)

Nothing by Robin Friedman (Another male ED book)

Lighter and Weightless (books 1 and 2 of Begin Again Duet series) by Gia Riley (Romance and available on KU)

...And All Shall Fade to Black by Layla Dorine (Gay Romance, male with ED, available on KU).

Still Water: A Boys of Bellamy Novel by Ruthie Luhnow (Gay romance, male with ED, available on KU)

Four Weeks, Five people by Jennifer Yu * (A male wannabe rock star with an ED. He is 1/5th of the main characters who all have other mental disorders and have been sent away to camp to help with their various mental illnesses).

Phat (Escape From Reality series) by Taylor Henderson (Part of a series. KU)

Life-size (no, not like the Lindsey Lohan movie) by Jenefer Shute (Available through Kindle unlimited)

Love Struck (Star Struck Series) by Amber Garza (Romance series. KU).

Fake Perfect Me by Cari Kamm (KU)

Out of Breath (Exposed Series) by Hazel Kelly  (KU).

The Kaitlyn Chronicles series by Elaine Babich (Series, for younger readers. KU).

Please Don't Go by Elizabeth Benning (A bulimic sent to a residence to recover and teams up with anorexic former enemy in hopes of escaping)

Girl, Interrupted by Susanna Kaysen * (very great!! I loved this one, it’s not only about the ed, but human nature and emotions) (A classic novel that everyone interested in metal health should read).

Do or Die (Fight or Flight Series #4) by Jamie Canosa (Romance series. KU).

Hungry: One Woman's Battle and Victory over Anorexia and Bulima by Jessica Skinner (The title pretty much says all you need to know. KU).

My Perfect Little Secret by Rebecca Coppage (KU).

Anorexic: The True Story of An Anorexia Survivor Who Found Love by Anna Paterson (This is romantic, but I wouldn't call it romance. KU).

Balance of Control by Stephanie Nance

Running in Silence: My Drive for Perfection and the Eating Disorder that Fed it by Rachael Rose Steil

My Not-So Secret by B.P. Morrison (KU).

26 Beats per Minute by Dez Wilder (Male with ED. Memoir. KU).

Summer Fades by Amanda Bews (KU).

It's Never Enough (Book 1 in Never Series) by Susan Soares (Series. KU).

Restricted: A Novel of Half-truths by Jennifer Kinsel * (KU).

Chrysalis by L.A. Field, Gary Thaller * (KU).

A Slow Fade by Brooke Melius (KU).

All We Ever Wanted: Unmasking the Silent Battle by Alexandra Wnuk (KU).

Life Hurts: A Doctor's Personal Journey Through Anorexia by Dr. Eliabeth Mcnaught *

A Fork in the Road by Rebekah Wilson (KU).

Skin Deep (Stolen Breaths series) by Pamela Sparkman (Romance Series. KU).

Feeding the Heart (Heart Series) by Marion Myles (Romance Series. KU).

Anorexic Annie by Sarah Burleton * (KU).

The Downside of Being Charlie by Jenny Torres Sanchez * (Male with ED, the ED is not a huge part of the book, but also deals with family dysfunction, which I always find interesting).

The Art of Starving by Sam J. Miller * (This is very interesting. Male with ED. Deals with super powers! Though, it could just be the ED causing the protagonist to think he has powers, but I'll let you be the judge!)

Skinny Boy: A Young Man's Battle and Triumph Over Anorexia by Gary A. Grahl

It Was Me All Along: A Memoir by Andie Mitchell * (about binge eater who lost weight)

Safety in Numbers by Brittany Burgunder *

Skinny: She was starving to fit in... (False reflections book 1) by Laura L. Smith (Currently free kindle edition is available).

When You Fall by Alex Karola * (through Wattpad. Not finished yet, but is a great read!)

Inner Hunger: A Young Woman's Struggle Through Anorexia and Bulimia by Marianne Apostolides

Empty: A Story of Anorexia by Christie Pettit

Inside Out: Portrait of an Eating Disorder by Nadia Shivack

Not Otherwise Specified by Hannah Moskowitz *

All Good Things Die in LA by Anhoni Patel *

Jane in Bloom by Deborah A. Lytton (Another one for younger readers. Still, a nice read)

Gravity Journal by Gail Sidonie Sobat

What I Lost by Alexandra Ballard *

This Impossible Light by Lily Myers (told in verse)

Sad Perfect by Stephanie Elliot (the girl has avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder)

Beautiful Bodies by Kimberly Rae Miller * (this is a KU book and is a fairly new release as of 7/28/17. It is about disordered eating and chronic dieting, not a full blown ED; however, I still enjoyed it and recommend it).

Shattered Image: My Triumph over Body Dysmorphic Disorder by Brian Cuban * (KU, male memoir detailing ED struggle and primarily his struggle with BDD)

Sugar by Deirdre Riordan Hall (KU)

Empty Net (Scoring Chances Book 4) by Avon Gale * (gay romance about bulimic hockey player)

Heavyweight by MB Mulhall (Male protagonist)

Just Jack by Shaun Powell (KU, male protagonist)

Don't Call Me Kit Kat by K.J. Farnham (for younger audience definitely)

Hunger: A Memoir of (My) Body by Roxanne Gay (BED)

Skin and Bones by Sherry Shahan (Male protagonist)

Skinny Me by Charlene Carr

Wrists by Jay Broderick (male protagonist)

Unicorns and Rainbow Poop by Sam Kadence (male, gay, romance)

Bare Roots by Molly S. Hillery (KU)

Grip by Adex Garza (KU, male. Deals with morbid obesity)

Rita Just Wants to be Thin by Mary W. Walters (KU)

Taint by Jude Nicholas (KU)

Fasting Girls: The History of Anorexia Nervosa by Joan Jacobs Brumberg

13 Ways of Looking at a Fat Girl by Mona Awad

Hunger Pains: The Modern Woman's tragic Quest  for Thinness by Mary Pipher

The Stone Girl by Alyssa B. Sheinmel

Pretend We are Lovely by Noley Reid

Stick Figure by Lori Gottilieb

Diary of an Exercise Addict by Peach Friedman

The Anorexia Diaries by Linda Rio

Feed Me!: Writers Dish about Food, Eating, Weight, and Body Image by Harriet Brown

Insatiable: A Young Mother's Struggle with Anorexia by Erica Rivera

How I Got Skinny, Famous, and Fell Madly in Love by Ken Baker (about a girl who goes on a reality TV show to lose weight. Fun read)

Inside Out: Portrait of an Eating Disorder by Nadia Shivack

Perfect: Anorexia and Me by Emily Halban

Losing it by Sandy McKay

Fragile by Nikki Grahame

My Big Fat Disaster by Beth Fehlbaum

Thin Ice by Niki Settimo (romance)

Unfiltered by Lily Collins (not solely a book about ED, but the topic is mentioned throughout)

Good Luck with That by Kristan Higgins (coming out on August 7, 2018)

Staving in the Search of Me by Marissa LaRocca

Feast (True Love In and Out of the Kitchen) by Hannah Howard

The Solitude of Prime Numbers by Paolo Giordano (the mc is anorexic but it’s not focused on it only. This book is about two outcasts who connect to each other and its effect of it in the course of their lives)

The Vegetarian by Han Kang (it’s very good and wild. It also tackles on feminism and societal issues as well)

Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki  and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami (it’s a great book. The ed is not the main point but there is a character suffering from one)

[ibblescribbles-archive]

Your art is so aesthetically pleasing! I was wondering if you could tell how you draw folds? I mean, how to understand them, I'm terrible at them and look super stiff and unnatural ... if you don't want to, I understand, and I hope I didnt bother you! have an amazing day

Thank you so much! I’m sorry this took me approximately 10 years to answer, you’ve probably mastered clothing folds by now and dont need advice from a pleb like me but!! here i am anyway! The usual disclaimer: I haven’t done a proper study of folds in a loong time, now that I’ve left art school I mainly have been focusing on my own stylized art so I’m pretty rusty. That being said, observation and practicing from life is the best way to learn! It doesnt even have to be clothes (though fashion studies are the best and i realize now I should have done some for this tutorial and I am a fool) but just placing cloths over random objects and drawing them can help you learn how cloth works with different shapes. And since the body is essentially made up of a bunch of geometric shapes, this will translate over to clothing!But yeah, this tutorial is pretty hypocritical since I dont always pay attention to fleshing out folds in my art hehe 

Let’s start by introducing Blank Slate-chan or Blank-chan for short uwuI’ve given her a Tshirt, and it looks okay but its a little flat. It looks more drawn on then anything.

Right off the bat, before we even begin to cover folds, we can add some details that make the shirt pop off the character. For instance seams on the collar, shoulders and bottom (though I didnt add any on the bottom in the example) and rolled up sleeves/like those fake rolled up cuffs that are sews on to tshirts can already add depth. Furthermore I’ve added some cast shadow from the oversized sleeves onto the arm, and the shirt separated from her skin at the top so its resting on it rather than looking like it’s part of her body.Seams can be especially important when indicating what kind of fabric or style of a piece of clothing your character is wearing. I find them especially helpful in separating jeans from say dress pants, as well as formal clothes. It helps to observe and thing about how a piece of apparel is sewn together to determine where you want to draw the seams. 

Okay this mess of arrows is my fault but bear with me ;v; In this portion I’ve now moved on to folds. Before we get into the details of the image, there are 3 forces that affect folds, and you should keep them in mind when drawing. Those forces are gravity, compression, and stretch. I’ve color coded each of these forces, though stretch is not shown in this image.So first off the purple arrows represent the force of gravity. This is always going to be a force on earth and cause folds from handing fabric like in between the chest or at the looser areas of the shirt.Then the blue is compression. I don’t have a good example of it here since I’m drawing mostly lose fabric, but its where the cloth bunches up because its met with two forces moving towards each other. In this (poor) example, the clothes are slightly compressed because Blank-chan’s arms are down, preventing the fabric from extending all the way down. I drew up arrows but its not so much as a force moving up as it is the fabric being caught. A better example of this would be tighter fabric gathered around a joint like jeans around a knee when its bending. If you can visualize that you’ve pretty much got the idea.Honestly, don’t let all this force stuff confuse you! I know I didn’t explain it amazingly, but you kind of get used to was looks more natural as you draw more fabric.And lastly the red arrows are just to point out that you need more than just suggestions of folds. Like the collar of the shirt sitting on the skin, the shirt will bend if there are folds so make sure you draw it sticking out rather than just being flat.

For the sake of an example let’s give Blank-chan a slightly bigger chest and some tighter clothes. The shirt is a little more formfitting and so it stretches over the chest. Cloth that is stretches usually has folds that are more horizontal or vertical depending on the points of tension. With tighter clothes, more of the anatomy shows through which is why you should always consider what the body is doing underneath. Though this still applies to looser clothing and you should be considering the body, you can get away with anatomical errors more easily which, confession, I do a lot.I prefer wearing and drawing looser clothes, so I’m not an expert on tight shirts and folds. Even this shirt I’ve drawn in this example is pretty loose but you can always change it as you see fit.

Here’s a comparison of the two without the messy arrows and with some additional shading. Shading can really help define even more shapes and bring depth to the folds, but that falls more under a coloring tutorial so I won’t go into that too much.You can of course exaggerate either of the two examples, either making the clothes a lot looser and adding way more folds or making the fabric tighter and adding more compression folds and showing the form through the clothes. Be careful with adding too many folds though, as it will either looks too crowded or like your character is soaked, unless you’re going for that. 

And then last few tips that I wasn’t sure where to put. If you’ve notice, a lot of the fabrics I draw tend to look heavier, like sweaters. In this super messy example you can see that adding tons of compression folds and making the fold rounder makes the fabric look heavier. Like wise using maybe more gravity folds and sharper/thinner edges may make the fabric look lighter!When drawing folds I like to use triangles to represent them. I think those shapes tend to look the most natural. Again, you can round those off or sharpen them depending, its all up to you! 

mm, this is a pretty basic tutorial, and there’s lots more information that I could talk about like materials, different styles of clothing, etc etc but I think this is enough to start out with? I hope I helped at least a little and remember that fashion studies are your friend!

[blyanten]

THE DUCK AVENGER PK2: #3 THE VOICE OF DARKNESS

Everett has decided to let his daughter out of the capsules! I’m guessing this means Ducklair Enterprises is up and running properly. As the wake-up process reaches its conclusion, Everett takes over, wanting to do the final step himself. He tells Juniper to open her eyes.

We don’t get to see the girl just yet, some things need to remain a surprise.

Meanwhile, the Avenger is having car trouble, rightfully wondering who’s going to protect the city from him. He has finally realized that he should have read the instruction manual before literally falling out of the sky, as the control systems switch off for a moment when the car switches to reserve fuel.

And nobody notices, because this is Duckburg.

He already knew that, it’s the fuel part that’s the problem. Also, the lack of a warning system, judging by the 100 feet fall. Once again, safety features: Not A Thing.

After flipping through the manual, the Avenger finds out that the car runs on monomethyl-hydrazine. He doesn’t know what that is, so it’s time to go home and find an encyclopedia. After the usual boring facts, it turns out that it’s rocket fuel.

I feel like that makes sense, but I can’t tell you why.

The Avenger has a brief fantasy spot about getting caught stealing fuel from a rocket, and Angus’s reaction, he decides to head to Ducklair Universe. Because goddamn, if Everett is going to cause this many problems, he can pay for having them fixed.

I strongly approve of this. It’s totally fair as far as I’m concerned, and a good solution, because monomethyl-hydrazine isn’t something you’ll find at the local gas station, but really, mostly because I think it’s a hilarious level of pettiness. From both sides, when we get that far.

Camouflaging the car as a fire hydrant (you can guess the joke), he sneaks up to the building, and finds a surprisingly high level of activity for the late hour. Guards with dogs, a bunch of workers and Birgit Q, looking less like an assistant and more like a ninja.

I do like the entire power-style she’s got going on.

Now, if Everett’s personal assistant is involved, this is probably important, but it’s nice of Birgit to confirm it.

The Avenger thinks to himself that he doesn’t like distrusting Everett-, wait.

Really? You don’t like distrusting him? I… I think he’s earned it. Like, he’s gone out of his way to earn distrust. I appreciate loyalty to friends, but damn. Let the distrust flow through you, Avenger.

-but there are still too many unanswered questions, so when Birgit sends several cars to Ducklair Manor, he abandons the fuel to follow.

Ducklair Manor turns out to be less that and more Ducklair’s Fancy Disney Princess Palace, complete with its own forest. 

In the surrounding forest they appear to be building a platform of some kind.

A space station?

Everett is waiting for them, informing Birgit that he’s satisfied with her work. Also, the entire project is called Operation Profunda, suggesting that Everett was really paying attention last issue.

The Avenger is the blocked from further investigation by the two walking away and the workers deciding to get started. He leaves, deciding to be back later.

Then it’s dayjob time! The security team appears to have lost Rupert, but Donald has some suspicions about where he is.

-and that’s when I called the cops.

He’s off creeping on Stella, staring at her while pressing his face up against the windows of her workplace. To the point where the owners have been complaining about Rupert scaring their customers.

Luckily for him, the team is well aware of his obsession and are gently, Fitzroy excepted, trying to get him to focus on his job. Less lucky, said owners appear and threatens to make a formal complaint if Rupert keeps bothering Stella. Which completely fair, except that Stella isn’t bothered by his behavior. She’s apparently into creepy staring.

But they have more complaints, among them that Rupert is messing up their elegant crystal windows. Why anyone would want to have crystal windows is a mystery when glass is available. Bloom reassures them that it won’t happen again, and takes Rupert for a walk.

Donald asks Tempest who those guys, the owners were, and Tempest explains. She also says that in time Donald will learn to ignore them. He agrees, but before that time comes, he grabs an ice cream from a kid and throws it at the elegant crystal window, before giving the kid money for another ice cream.

He and Tempest heads into the store for their rounds, and that’s when trouble appears in the form of Hobey with a gun. Hobey forces the sales clerk (not Stella) to lower the shutters, and tells everyone that it’s not a robbery. It’s just a hostage situation!

Listen, it had to happen sometime.

Hobey wants to speak with the Avenger, because of course he does. Why else would Donald be in this situation?

One hostage panics, but after only one shot, Tempest manages to calm him down.

And while this is going on, Hobey is trying to reassure himself that Profunda will be pleased with him, and not punish him.

In the sewers, the other homeless people are having similar concerns, but their goal is currently to not disturb her. Profunda however, is hearing voices. Well, a very specific voice, that calls for her.

Profunda decides it’s time for action.

Even on reread the constantly appearing questions are frustrating.

Outside Duckmall, the press has arrived, and inside the police is trying to figure out what to do. Armed an unpredictable is not a fun combination, even less so when they’re focused on something the police can’t give them.

We also learn that Bloom used to be a cop, but quit to avoid these situations. Probably would have worked too, except that then he went and hired a superhero.

Inside the store, Donald uses some black eyeliner to paint a mask on himself and uses some blue fabric to fake a cape. Tempest thinks he’s lost it too, while Donald is more focused on how ridiculous the situation is. He does however succeed in getting Hobey talking.

Sanity is not on display here.

It turns out that Profunda wants to team up with the Avenger to take down Everett. Because Everett is a droid out to take over the world.

Sounds a lot like the Evronians, actually.

While Donald is baffled at this information, Hobey, midway through telling him how to find Profunda, notices that his cape has a price tag.

The make-up wasn’t a clue?

Hobey proceeds to freak out and try to shoot Donald, who escapes into the underground storage via a back room service elevator.

Hobey responds by doing this.

Cheap elevator or surprisingly effective gun?

Tempest takes the opportunity to try and get people out, but Hobey and his magically reloading gun returns before they get the shutters open. He’s losing patience, and demands to talk with the real Avenger.

In the backroom, Donald turns out to have been hiding in a closet. Realizing he has to get out of there, he jumps down the elevator shaft, and falls through the destroyed roof of the evelvator. Still, he manages to sneak out the back and gather his equipment from inside a Duckmall mascot.

Rather than go and speak with Hobey, he calls Lyla and they meet at her apartment.

No, I think it’s a danceparty!

Lyla offers to lend him some Time Police equipment, since it’s not like she needs it at the moment, time travel being impossible and all. It should help keep Profunda out of his head.

At Ducklair Manor the whatever they’re building is almost done. Everett will take care of the last few details himself, because from now on, the area is off limits to everyone.

Profunda may not care all that much.

Stormdrains can actually be this big, I think.

The Avenger follows Hobey’s instructions to find Profunda, grumbling to himself about how you can’t deal with people who get inside your head.

Ignoring the fact that he’s done that before, of course, but that was magic, so… fine.

He finds the lair, but it’s empty. Following the trail, he finds two tunnels, one leading out of the city and the other to... somwhere in Duckburg. This makes the Avenger worry, while Profunda decides she is ready to answer the voice calling to her.

At Ducklair Tower, Birgit is transporting Juniper from the tower to Ducklair Manor. She barely gets out of the garage before Profunda attacks, her homeless army fireing at the car. Birgit tells the driver to keep going, and that’s when the Avenger arrives.

I swear, that name sounds familiar.

The situation escalates, with Profunda directing her army to ignore the Avenger and attack the car. Birgit, now behind the wheel goes pedal to the metal, but Profunda stops her.

Superpowers for everyone!

The car crashes, and the Avenger tries to talk to Profunda, but she declares their alliance over before it got started. She uses her powers on him, but the Avenger dodges, so her blast hits the ground instead. The Avenger traps her in a gravity bubble, letting her fall so her homless army has to catch her rather than attack the car.

The Avenger takes advantage of the distraction, going for the car since whatever it is Profunda is after is probably dangerous.

She looks like she’s halfway back into the crysleep/coma/whatever.

It’s hard to say who’s the most confused, but the Avenger grabs Juniper and gets her the hell out of there. Profunda is pissed, but as long as the voice keeps calling for her, she’ll find them. Birgit calls Everett, who tells her to return to the manor, before setting two psionic hound robots to the task of finding his daughter.

I’m sure that’s not traumatizing at all to someone who just woke up from a years long coma.

On a rooftop, somewhere, the Avenger is trying to communicate with Juniper, who is not responding.

At least not until the robots arrive. 

When I am the undisputed ruler of the universe, boob armor will be forbidden.

They tie up Juniper, because Everett has clearly given up on being father of the year, and blast a sign loose from the building, causing it to fall on the Avenger.

Add boob windows to the list of forbidden things.

Luckily for him, Lyla arrives, in a new armor that looks like it wouldn’t stand up to 1/3 of the abuse the old one could, and picks up the sign. She’s been following him, thanks to the borrowed belt. The Avenger asks her for help, and Lyla tells him to not make a habit of it.

Too late.

At Ducklair Manor, Lyla confirms that Juniper is there through a brick wall surrounding the property. Everett is also most definitely not a droid, which is… good? What is definitely not good is that Profunda and gang has arrived.

Everett is unsurprised when the two robots inform him that there’s attackers on two sides, telling Juniper that it worked. She’s come.

Child Services? Yeah, I’d like to make a report.

Profunda shows up then, telling him it wasn’t hard, Juniper was practically screaming for her to come save her.

The homeless army attacks, and the Avenger jumps in. Everett is not pleased, telling him to stay out of his life, while the Avenger points out that kidnapping is not cool.

Profunda ignores them both and goes to free Juniper, when Everett activates a containment field. Turns out the entire structure was made for that purpose, to trap them there.

Profunda calls him out, basically calling him a bastard for using Juniper as bait and claims that this will not be enough to stop Profunda.

Everett says he only wanted to help her. Her name isn’t Profunda, it’s Korinna. And he’s her father.

So Juniper takes after the mom then.

The Avenger is baffled, but still fighting the homeless army while Everett tries to convince Korinna to stop fighting and stay with him and Juniper. He just wants his daughters back.

Cool motive, still murder seriously bad parenting happening here. At least wait until Juniper is coherent before throwing her into this situation! You can look for Korinna in other ways. Or just sit back and wait, really.

Korinna, understandably enough at this point, says no. She’s taking Juniper and leaving.

Everett, also understandably, considering what Korinna has been doing lately, isn’t about to let that happen. Really, nobody in this family should be trusted with the care of anyone, but neither is going to back down. So they fight.

This angle on this is 50% cool looking and 50% “it looks like you could take two steps and put her on the ground Mr. Mystical Martial Arts”.

Korinna is powerful, but Everett has the experience and, with some help from the Avenger attacking Korinna at the same time as he does, lands a painful mental blow on Korinna.

Both of them kinda freak out at this, Korinna pissed that her father hurt her, and Everett immediately apologizing. He also drops his guard, and Korinna lashes out, screaming that she hates him, much like a small child would.

This must have been a really unforcused blast, considering that they’re both fine afterwards.

Korinna’s homeless army collapses as Korinna flees. Lyla reassures the Avenger they’re fine, just knocked out now that they’re free from Korinna. When the Avenger tries to check on Everett he’s told to get lost.

At this point it’s starting to sound more like a bad breakup than a serious fight. Birgit’s “not again” headache look doesn’t help.

Everett tells Birgit to move Juniper inside, and the Avenger has to run back to Duckmall, because there’s a hostage situation everyone’s forgotten about.

Luckily, Hobey also collapsed when Korinna lost control over him, so everything there is fine. Except for the missing Donald Duck, who nobody’s seen since Hobey shot at him.

The Avenger runs off to change and hide in the elevator shaft, just in time as the police is currently searching the back room.

Don’t know if that’s what they were going for, but that’s a great “please don’t ask questions” face.

Everyone is glad to see him, though Bloom considers his attempt at talking to Hobey a bit thoughtless. Which, yeah, but still less that it would have been if he wasn’t the Avenger. But he got lucky, and luck is part of being security, so Bloom leaves it at that.

As he’s leaving, Donald thinks that he’s going to need a lot of luck next time he’s dealing with Everett. As it is, he only has more questions and Korinna took many of the answers with her.

On a highway leading out of Duckburg, a man with two children picks up a young woman, heading to Goose Beach.

[tenscupcake]

electrostatic potential (21/?)

ten/rose. a little higher than teen this ch. summary: as the doctor and rose traverse time and space looking for adventure, they slowly fall victim to a mysterious energy that can manipulate their emotions. though confused and unnerved by the cerebral affliction, neither of them understands its cause, or realizes that it could jeopardize their friendship. what will it take for them to discover the truth? a/n: hi guys! my posting schedule is complete chaos but hey, my life is complete chaos so. most importantly, i figured you guys could use a bit of light on this dark day. i know it brought some light to mine and i hope it can do the same for some of you. thanks to @aroseofstone​ and @goingtothetardis​ for the feedback and betas. this chapter on ao3 | back to chapter 1 on ao3

The Doctor is absolutely not freaking out.

Approaching his reflection in the single small mirror, the first thing he sees is the unparalleled chaos of his bedhead. He supposes he’d better actually do what he claimed he was going to do when he skipped in here. Flipping on the faucet, he gathers a pool of water in his palm and splashes it onto his head, not caring that most of it drips onto his face. He splays his fingers and massages the water into his hair, kneading and twisting to bring some pliability back to the dry, wayward strands. Once most of it looks slightly damp, he pulls out his travel-sized tube of product and squeezes a few drops onto his palm.

He is certainly not running away from her again.

With rapid strokes back and forth, he rubs it over the top of his head, leaving no strand untouched. Only once it is distributed evenly does he employ more precision, using both hands, capturing sections between his fingers to mold them into the right shape, up and towards the mirror. There’s the one section that’s always particularly cow-licked in the morning and requires more attention. And as usual, he has to spend several minutes mere centimeters from the mirror, using his fingertips to craft the very front just the way he likes it. Rebelling against gravity, but not defying it altogether. A slight angle outward that dares someone to come and touch it. Well, so long as ‘someone’ is Rose.

He is not stalling a conversation about what just happened by hiding in the bathroom, either. Nope.

It’s much easier to style his hair fresh out of a shower, but he can always make do with the circumstances he’s given. This hair was ready to be styled straight out of regeneration. It’s no huge mystery why, and he’s always known that. He died pouring his heart out to an attractive young woman, and his subconscious manifested that by turning him into an attractive young man – touchable hair included. What other explanation could there be that his tenth incarnation appears younger than any of his others (excluding, of course, his first)? It’s not at all uncommon for regeneration to manifest a Time Lord’s most pressing need or desire at the time of death. It is perhaps uncommon for that need or desire to be another person, but he isn’t sure that detail matters. Statistically, the chances that the two events are correlated in some way is far greater than that they occurred together by a stroke of cosmic luck. The universe has never stacked the odds in his favor.

He grumbles at his reflection as his hand falls to his side. This hair, among many other features, was literally made for Rose’s enjoyment, and he’s standing here playing with it instead of lying in bed with her.

He’s suddenly reminded of the 90’s sitcom, Friends. In one episode, Phoebe claims to want a fabled bicycle from her childhood with all of her nostalgic heart. But when Ross buys it for her, though she parades it around Central Park and maintains its shiny appearance, she doesn’t actually ride it.

Except that was actually endearing, and had some validity, since Phoebe didn’t know how to ride a bicycle. The Doctor can’t claim he doesn’t know how to – (well, ride isn’t the right word, but blimey, it’s astonishing how readily his mind went there) – indulge Rose. He’s just being a selfish prick about it. He’s got all the hardware (and software) for passion and intimacy now, but he’s just strutting around letting her admire it rather than actually using it.

And simply because she showed him, quite vividly, how much she cares for him, too, he’s backing off even more. Stashing that bicycle in the closet rather than let anyone see it. He’s inadvertently punishing her for honesty.

He isn’t sure how Rose expected him to react, but he knows it can’t have been to bolt off. When someone shows you how they feel about you, and it’s that intense, the only polite thing to do is to return the sentiments shortly thereafter. He didn’t at all prepare himself to do that today; he was more or less expecting to see the first time she baked a cake, not a compilation of all the reasons she’s in love with him. She didn’t actually use the word, but what Rose doesn’t understand is that these exchanges of emotion are far more impactful than words to telepathic species. If he stayed, he would have had to construct a similar experience for her, or else come up with a verbal response to what she’d shown him that would indicate she’s not alone in her sentiments. But what does she expect? How can he explicitly requite that level of affection, when not four days ago he was prepared to swallow said feelings altogether? To sever the very connection that made her confession possible?

A swish of the curtain interrupts his brooding.

“Oi, you about done? I want to wash up.” Rose sounds irritated.

“Yeah,” he pushes away from the little sink and whirls around. She looks irritated, too.

Now’s his chance, then.

He meanders over to where she’s standing in the doorway, but effectively blocks her path to the sink.

 “Listen, I just want to say…” He rubs the back of his neck, staring at the wall next to the shower rather than meeting her gaze. “Thank you. For, erm… showing me what you did.”

He dares a glance at her, and her expression has softened. Less disappointment, more disbelief. A bit of confused curiosity in her eyes. Swallowing, she nods and breaks their brief moment of eye contact.

“It was a lovely moment,” he adds, the words a bit rushed.

“Yeah,” she acknowledges. “Don’t mention it.” She skirts around him, and his eyes follow her as she sidles up to the sink. She swipes her toothbrush and paste from the little counter space there is and gets straight to business ‘washing up’, as she’d put it.

Though she could see him in the mirror if she wanted to, she actively avoids looking up at his reflection. Silently pulling back the curtain, he leaves her be without another word.

---

Much to their dismay, they’ve missed breakfast by the time they arrive at Kenai’s house. Every family member is present – a universally acknowledged day of rest for the village, they soon discover. Fortuitously, there is only about an hour or so until lunch will be served, and they spend the interim discussing the recovery of the ruki. The Doctor is delighted to learn the population is bouncing back well enough that Kenai and Kalei are planning the next fishing trip.

The energy between him and Rose is unusually strained throughout the conversation, though. At first, he chalks it up to Rose being tetchy because she’s hungry, and patiently endures the tension until she can get in a proper meal. But Rose’s reticence has not improved by the time their plates are clean (some kind of sweet vegetable curry-like dish sopped up with a flat bread that resembled naan). As Kalani starts clearing the table, the Doctor is perturbed enough that he’s ready to whisk her back to the hut and formally apologize. And perhaps figure out something else to do to make it up to her.

The conversation he had with himself late the previous evening comes to mind – about giving her what she wants, physically – and much to his surprise, he’s hardly opposed to that at the moment. Seeing her properly disappointed with him for what feels like the thousandth time since they landed here, he doesn’t know if there’s anything he wouldn’t do to win back her approval. But what is Rose expecting for their first time? A candlelit dinner and rose petals on the bed? A romantic film with wine and superfluous foreplay? Or will an early afternoon shag born out of guilt suffice just as well?

Before he can answer his own question, Kairi pipes up with his name from across the table.

He looks up, surprised she had spoken, as she usually only does when spoken to (not out of any cultural restrictions, but merely because she’s unbearably shy), and gives her his attention.

“Hm?”

“I was wondering, uhm...” She looks down at the table, the rest of the sentence hanging in midair. When she’s silent for several long moments, he looks around at the other occupants of the table, silently asking if this is normal behavior.

Kalei, seated next to her, elbows her lightly in the arm.

“It’s just… I have this project for school that I can’t get to work, and you’re so brilliant. I was wondering if you might have time to help me out.”

“Certainly,” he agrees immediately to try to soothe her insecurity. “You’ll want to invite Rose along, too though,” he nods to Rose and gives her his most charming smile when she looks up. “Rose Tyler, I’m lost without her.” As he predicted, she scrunches her mouth up to keep from smiling at the memories these words evoke, trying to stay outwardly cross with him.

“Yes, of course!” Kairi agrees. “When is a good time for you both?”

“Well, we haven’t exactly made plans yet…” He steers back to his halted train of thought. His desire to clear the air with Rose (and maybe implement his reconciliation plan) is a higher priority in his mind than a science project.

“Excellent!” Kenai exclaims. “I knew he’d be able to help, Kairi.” He pats the table happily before gulping down some more of his juice.

Morally unable to go back on his word now, the Doctor resigns to postpone talking to Rose, and whatever may follow that conversation, until later on.

---

The Doctor isn’t sure what to expect upon walking into Kairi’s bedroom – it’s not where he expected this homework hour to take place. There aren’t many societies in the universe where a young girl can invite strange adults into her bedroom and her parents not protest to the arrangement. The door is left open, though, and Kalei is in an adjacent room working on a carving, his door open as well.

Kairi is ever the professional – she clears the Doctor and Rose a place to sit on her bed while she goes to drag in chairs from around the dining table, as there’s only one currently at her desk. It looks similar to his own – but it’s cluttered with primitive tools rather than electronics, leaf quills rather than pens, and parchment rather than computers.

Once she’s retrieved their chairs and they’re all situated, she wraps her long, straight hair (must come from her dad’s side) into a bundle atop her head and pins it in place with a dried white flower. Sitting down next to them, she unfurls a long piece of parchment from the center of the workspace.

The Doctor pulls on his glasses and peers at the design.

“Looks like a blueprint. Well, except for the paper not actually being blue. Though, on Earth, architects transitioned away from using actual blue paper for blueprints as early as the 1940’s…” He glances over at Rose, only to see her giving him a distinct ‘get on with it’ face, and quickly redirects his attention. “But what is it? A slide?” It certainly looks like one – a steep slope of something smooth, maybe intended to be metal – tucked between rocks in a mountain that must represent one of the ones on the island.

“What’s a slide?” Kairi asks.

“It’s a… erm,” the Doctor stops himself, scratching behind his ear. “Well, what is this, then?” he turns the question back on her.

“It’s intended to be for quick travel from the top of the village near the summit down to the bottom, in case of emergencies. Or for transfer of goods or supplies, perhaps. I’ve built several models with Kalei’s help, and blacksmith’s apprentice I know from school, but they’ve all been failures.”

“Where are these models?” the Doctor asks, curiosity piqued.

“Gone. Deconstructed for parts. Nothing goes to waste on this island,” she chuckles a little. “Least not if my dad has anything to say about it. He said it’d be better if I start from scratch, anyway.”

“Is it supposed to be constructed on the mountains up there?” He nods his head in the general direction of the rocky slopes.

“Yes, the models weren’t life-sized though. For the project, the assignment is to make a small model. About one meter.” She pulls out a stick from beside the desk, marked with measurements along one edge. The Doctor quickly and quietly assesses that it doesn’t seem to be an entirely accurate representation of a meter, but it’s close enough. “The winner in the class for the most useful project will get the help of the village to implement it in its real proposed size.”

“I see,” says the Doctor. “What caused them to fail?”

“The first one was metal. I used a thatch of leaves to carry down a rock. Every time I touched it to start a new trial, I got badly shocked. I figured that would be a problem for actual users, so I threw it out.”

“Quite right,” chimes Rose.

“The next one was rock,” Kairi continues, “and I had a similar problem. That, and I couldn’t get the rocks smooth enough. After a few trials, sparks flew and I almost burnt down my room. Dad wouldn’t let me continue with that one, after that.” She sighs, but it’s with a sense of peace rather than despondency. A true budding scientist, she has already come to terms with the fact that failure is a part of the process.

“Then I decided to go for wood. But friction was still a problem. One day, I got Kalei to help me polish it to make the surface nice and smooth. And I got some leftover cazaut oil from the kitchen to make it slippery on the surface. And that worked. But I knew there was no way to acquire enough oil to implement it on a larger scale. And even if it were possible, no one would approve of the project using such an important source of food. So I knew I had to find another way. But this is the latest blueprint, I haven’t started a new one, yet.”

“But that’s brilliant,” Rose says, in awe. “An oil slide. Sounds even faster than a water slide, and more innovative.”

“I agree,” chimes the Doctor. “Brilliant. But you’re right, it’s impractical. Why can’t we use water, instead of oil?” he suggests.

“It would take an excessive amount of water,” Kairi says, scrunching up her forehead like the Doctor is out of his mind.

“You’ve got an excessive amount of water,” Rose suggests. “Surrounded by the ocean, yeah?”

“Right you are, Rose. Ocean water, Kairi, what’s wrong with that?”

“Well,” she points to the bottom of the parchment. “The water is here,” she indicates. “And the… slide…” she uses the Doctor’s term with some awkwardness around the syllables, “starts way up here, at the top of the village.”

“There must be water sources inland, though,” the Doctor says. “How do you irrigate the crops?”

“There are freshwater springs in the forest, and we’ve developed an aqueduct system there. But that water is restricted to supply homes and provide irrigation. It would never be permissible to use it for something frivolous like this, especially in those high quantities.”

“Hmm,” the Doctor muses, stymied. “I’d hardly call it frivolous,” he grumbles quietly.

“You’d have to have some way of getting the water up there, then,” says Rose, on a more optimistic note.

“That may be the only way,” the Doctor agrees. “That is, if you’re settled on this idea, and don’t want to try something a little less ambitious.”

“Well…” She ponders that, both hands under her chin as she inspects the print.

“I’ll tell you what though, Kairi,” says Rose. “I think this could be used for more than just emergencies. I think lots of people would use it for fun. Might be something that could bring people to the island. You could even charge for it.”

“What? No,” she waves her hand in the air, like the idea is preposterous, and the Doctor holds back laughter with his fist over his mouth before he can speak.

“As ridiculous as it may sound to you, I think Rose is right,” the Doctor adds.

“Guess I should stick to it, then,” says Kairi, a gleam of pride in her eyes. A well deserved spot of arrogance, the Doctor thinks.

Kairi sketches down several ideas for a water transport system from the shore to the summit, and the Doctor has to bite his tongue several times to keep from using the word ‘pump’ as she talks them through aloud. He doesn’t tell her what to draw, or how to tweak her angles or calculations. Doesn’t tell her outright when a design is rubbish. He only forces her to think about potential design flaws; leads her to detect the lethal ones quickly and start over. Guides her in the right direction when she gets stuck. Does the more difficult arithmetic calculations in his head when she asks so she doesn’t have to do them by hand. (“Call me your personal computer,” he says, and she laughs like it’s the most nonsensical word she’s ever heard. And, since it doesn’t exist in their version of Kaelondaian yet, he supposes the English must, indeed, sound ridiculous to her. At least as ridiculous as ‘slide.’)

In the middle of her fifth design, the Doctor suddenly feels something peculiar. A wisp of melancholy that’s not his own. A tug of quiet frustration. Hunched over the desk as he is, he has to look over his shoulder to check on Rose.

But when he does, her chair is empty.

What an insufferable twat he is. Too enthralled by teaching and calculations, he doesn’t even know when she left. And now she’s somewhere out there alone, stewing in this turbulent sense of disappointment (probably directed at him) that’s severe enough to be broadcast to him.

To be fair, she does wander off a hell of a lot, and her clever escapes always seem to go undetected by his Rose radar. She’s good at being discreet and quiet, and tends to do what she wants regardless of his say in the matter.

“Where’s Rose gone?” Kairi asks, noticing her absence at the same time.

“Keep working, Kairi, I’ll be right back.” He pats her on the shoulder and leaps out of his chair to search for Rose.

To his relief, he finds her in the first place he looks – the kitchen. She’s standing at a countertop, cutting something that looks like carrots. Several feet along the same counter, Kenai is breaking down a pile of ruki (still from the batch the Doctor brought from the past). It feels like they just ate lunch, but tuning into his time sense, he realizes it’s been four hours since they ate. Guess that means it’s already time to start preparing for dinner.

The Doctor clears his throat to announce his presence.

“Can I help?” he asks, approaching them hesitantly from behind.

“You can assist Rose in cutting the vegetables, if you’d like,” says Kenai through the sounds of fish filets slapping the cutting board.

The Doctor sidles up next to Rose, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, but she doesn’t say anything. Her only acknowledgement of his presence is a cursory glance in his direction.

“How’re you doing?” he asks, and he knows it’s a loaded question but can’t help it.

Predictably, she gives him a little glare.

“Sorry for getting caught up. I was just trying to help, and sometimes I can be a bit… single-minded.”

“Don’t I know it,” she says, derisively. She doesn’t seem to want to talk, and he can still feel an annoyed ire radiating from her mind, festering inside his.

He knew the lightness of their conversation in Kairi’s presence earlier had been an illusion, and that they’d have to properly confront what happened this morning sooner or later. But how can they have a confrontation about it right this moment? The matters involved are fiercely private, but they lack privacy.

There is, of course, one easy solution.

He glances over at Kenai. He’s mere feet away from them, on the opposite side of the sink, but he does seem engrossed in his task.

But suddenly, as though lifting the idea from the Doctor’s mind, Kenai suddenly starts to sing. It’s not very loud, and it fades in gradually, like it’s just something he does instinctively while he cooks. The TARDIS doesn’t translate the language, knowing it would butcher the beauty of the music. Hearing the language authentically, it reminds him of Hawaiian. Karina joins in after a few lines from the next room, an effortless harmony to Kenai’s part. The song is beautiful, and the Doctor would very much like to keep listening. But this is his opportunity.

“Rose,” he whispers.

She just barely glances over at him, acknowledging she heard her name, but returns her eyes to her work. Several long seconds pass while he gathers his courage.

He speaks those sacred words, the invitation he taught her just this morning. Prays to gods that don’t exist that she’ll accept, this first time he has initiated something.

Her head whips towards him this time, eyes wide and lips parted, gaping at him.

He holds out a hand, making his intention clear. But he hovers several inches away, waiting for her to accept his offer.

Setting her knife on the counter, she just barely nods.

Abandoning its patience, his hand surges toward its destination, tingling with excitement.

He coordinates them to be partially connected, this time, dipping only shallowly inside her mind while inviting her the same depth inside his. Enough to sense transient thoughts and emotions but nothing more. It doesn’t take as long to forge such a connection, and it’s not as all-consuming as a deeper one. Since they’re at high risk of being interrupted, he doesn’t want either of them to become too overwhelmed by whatever may be said or shared in the confines of this link. They both have to function like normal humanoids as soon as the interaction is over.

She’s still not great at maintaining the two-way street, and it’s a bit of a push-pull, but she’s definitely improved since yesterday.

Holding up all right? he asks as soon as they’re sufficiently intertwined.

Still cross with you, she confesses, knowing she can’t lie to him.

I gathered.

I gathered that you gathered, she retorts, and the words are like ice through the link.

Bit defensive there, he accuses.

Hmph.

I shouldn’t have run off like that, he admits.

No.

To be fair, he paraphrases what he’d said to himself earlier, I wasn’t quite expecting for you to choose a memory with me in it. Or to get a novel on all the reasons you fancy me.

Yeah, well. You got me all emotional, changin’ back like that. That wasn’t fair.

Suppose not. But I didn’t actually do it, Rose. It really was the power of your mind that made you see me like that. I can’t have a physical existence in anyone else’s mind. My appearance there all depends on your memory and perception.

Hm. She ruminates on that for a moment, cogs turning in her mind. Wondering why her brain betrayed her like that, made her so vulnerable. Wondering what she might look like to him inside his mind.

An interesting question, that. But one he skips over quickly.

Thank you for showing me. It was very… special to me. But it was also quite overwhelming. And I wasn’t at all expecting it. I just needed time to process it, I suppose.

You’re somethin’ else, you know. Spend a couple of hours literally inside my mind, and let me see your every thought, an’ two seconds later go mad when I say I like you.

Well, when you put it that way.

After a few moments of tense silence, she suddenly puts forth a demand.

Think it’s only fair I get to see one of yours.

That… does seem fair, he admits.

And I’ve got to be in it, too, she adds. Tit for tat.

That makes things a little tougher. Yours was a very nice tit.

Rose simultaneously laughs and rages at him inside her head, a yellow glow of joy shining on him even as red fists of anger bludgeon him through the link.

Knob.

He ignores the insult.

Tonight? He asks.

Deal, Rose agrees.

Brilliant. I’m going to disconnect. I think this song is about to end, and Kenai might get a bit weirded out if I’m touching your head like this.

Upon their reluctant return to individuality, the song is indeed ending, and they both compliment Kenai on his singing voice and choice of song. As they finish chopping the night’s vegetables, they take turns asking about what inspires the music on the island. Who writes the songs, who the best performers are. They even ask to hear another song, and Kenai happily complies. The chopping finished, Rose and the Doctor applaud his encore performance.

“I told Kairi I’d be right back,” the Doctor says softly, only to Rose, as he wipes some carrot-like juice and shavings from his hands onto his shirt. “Want to come back and help us?”

“Didn’t seem like you needed my help,” she insists.

“I can always use your help,” he assures her, reaching for her hand. He can’t bear the thought of her feeling useless in any respect.

“You go on ahead.” She tilts her head in the direction of Kairi’s room. “I think Kenai still needs help gettin’ the food ready.”

“Sure?” he asks quietly.

“Yep. See you for dinner.”

“Deal.” He gives her a smile and brushes his thumb over hers before leaving her and Kenai alone.

When he reunites with her, Kairi has basically re-invented Archimedes’ screw. He would know – he was there when that was invented, too. But Kairi is hardly fourteen. The Doctor is tremendously impressed.

By the time dinner is called by Kenai and Rose, Kairi has (with his assistance) calculated the required length and diameter of both the model and the theoretical life-sized version. She has also determined how much power she’ll need to pump the water up the distance. It’s a substantial figure – several levers powered by several individuals will be necessary to produce it. To his astonishment, she comes up with a plan for its operators to use their legs to crank the device, rather than their arms. Blimey, the girl just invented stationary bicycles, too.

As they eat, Kairi insists she doesn’t even really need the Doctor’s help anymore, and assures him he is welcome to leave once dinner is over. Bubbling with confidence and enthusiasm, she promises to recruit Kalei and other friends to help build the model starting tomorrow. The Doctor can’t help but be proud of her progress today, both intellectually and socially.

---

Rose insists on having some time for a shower as they depart their hosts’ home. The Doctor is eager to get back to time with just the two of them, but reluctantly agrees to reunite in forty-five minutes. Rose likely doesn’t want him hovering right outside the loo while she takes care of business, so he heads back to the TARDIS to freshen up.

He doesn’t need to shower every day, at least from the perspective of hygiene, but he likes to make a habit of it, anyway. At least in this regeneration. Since early on, he has somehow convinced himself it’s not to make sure he smells as nice as possible for Rose. That it’s just a vain little quirk of this incarnation, nothing more.

But that is utter rubbish. Everything that follows his shower is evidence of that. The ever-meticulous crafting of his hair. The application of aftershave though he didn’t touch a razor tonight. Getting his clothes speed-dry-cleaned by the TARDIS. The spritz of cologne on his shirt. The very manly lotion he spreads over his hands so they’re soft against Rose’s skin. (Just, you know, in case.)

Oh, and then, there’s the fact that he waits for her on the bed in his specs again, only pretending to work on the artificial gills some more. As he sits cross-legged on the bed, awaiting Rose’s entrance (should be any moment now, the water has been off for twenty minutes), there’s no denying the reason he brought along a project in the first place. He knows she thinks the glasses are sexy on him.

Flaunting it without using it… he reminds himself.

How bad would it be if he did… use it? His contemplation from late the night before runs through his mind again.

But before he can answer his own question, Rose appears through the curtain to the loo, her face lighting up when she sees him waiting. Her hair is down, a bit of a voluminous mess from wearing it up all day but lovely as ever. She’s wearing a form-fitting pair of pink pyjamas, and a sleeveless white top that leaves little to the imagination. She seems to have forgone wearing a bra.

Suddenly, he finds it preferable to simply see what happens.

Rose throws her old clothes onto her suitcase and plods forward to sit on the bed, and he collects his multipurpose project and stashes it on the desk for later.

“You ready?” she asks, without pretense.

“Straight to business, then?” he half-jokes, swiping off his specs and leaving them on the bedside table.

“You had plenty of time to prepare this time.”

“Suppose I did.” He smiles, glad to see she’s gaining some confidence. It fuels his own. Flopping onto his side facing her, he just stares at her, waiting for her to accept his implicit invitation.

She likely doesn’t intend for it to be seductive, but the way she crawls up the mattress and slowly reclines next to him, he feels rather seduced.

Resisting the temptation to ogle her and allow his mind (and hands) to wander, he reaches for her temple instead. As soon as his fingers make contact, he can feel her heart racing beneath her still-damp skin. He closes his eyes, breathing in coconut and flowers and estrogen, and just a little adrenaline, too – she’s still nervous tonight.

Dismantling his many defenses, he presses his fingertips a little harder and reaches out for the patient, curious tresses of her mind. Once she can sense him there, inviting her, she rushes inside with abandon. Though she’s much more accustomed to the process, he gives her a few moments to fully settle in, to acclimate to the atmosphere inside his mind.

The sensations are just as spectacular as the first time she did this. A powerful sense of humanity humbles his Time Lord consciousness. Mortality intertwines with every fiber of his near-immortal being. A cozy warmth surrounds his two hearts as he is blanketed with compassion. He knows the union is complete. Concentrating on his faculties despite the sudden inebriation, he transforms their dimensionless surroundings into a landscape they can both make some more sense of.

When he opens his eyes, they’re in one of his typical hubs: the TARDIS library.

Rose’s eyes open at the same time, and she appears just as he is when he left her: the pink pyjamas and nearly see-through white top. No makeup, her hair down and mussed up. He’s proud of his subconscious for presenting her in such accurate and up-to-date detail.

He quickly senses Rose’s surprise that they’re in a location she recognizes.

But there are fewer places he feels more comfortable than his ship. A place he can hide from the havoc the universe threatens to wreak on his life. Where he can even hide away from time itself. And in this particular room, the countless books offer an added layer of escape from reality. Whether it’s in the musty, yellowed pages of ancient texts or the freshly printed, new book smell of novels he hasn’t yet read, this library has always provided him refuge within its depths.

It’s one of his default settings for times like these, because it’s so comfortable. He can hear the distant breathing of the time rotor, can feel the stillness beneath his feet, the irrelevance of time inside the Vortex.

Extracting these sentimental musings from his mind, she doesn’t comment on his subconscious’ choice of setting.

They’ve materialized near the center of the library, and though Rose glances around at the familiar setting, her eyes never stray from his for long.

“Does it work the same way?” she asks, scanning a few of the closest aisles. “Every path leads somewhere different?”

“Yes,” he answers simply.

She drifts away from him slightly to have a better look around, and it’s obvious which particular sections of the familiar library attract her attention. A corner that’s bathed in unnatural shadow. A few nearby shelves concealed by strange floating clouds of darkness. Features that distinguish this fabrication from the real TARDIS library.

“Well,” he sighs. “Not exactly the same. I have a fair bit more practice with shielding memories I don’t want to be seen. Any dark areas are a manifestation of those skills,” he explains.

Rose’s face scrunches up a little, and a little zing of jealousy strikes him. It wasn’t nearly as effortless for her to shield a memory from him.

“After a few centuries, you start to get the hang of things,” he says in his defense.

“What would happen if I tried to see something in the dark?” she asks.

It’s transparent that she isn’t out to invade his privacy; she’s just curious about the mechanics of his hub, the same way she was about her own. Eager to discover their similarities and differences and catalog them accordingly.

“Why don’t we go and see?” he nods his head towards the nearest darkened shelf. “I still have voluntary defenses I can use, the same way you do,” he explains. The wood beneath their feet creaks authentically as they stroll across the library floor. “In the end, it’s still up to me to decide what you can see.”

They approach the shelf in question, and he indicates that Rose come closer. She looks back and forth between him and the shelf a couple times, searching for confirmation that this is okay. He provides it wordlessly, focusing on granting her permission to try, but not for anything to be revealed. It’s a dangerous line to tread, but he has more than enough skill and training to distinguish the two.

As soon as Rose has decided to reach a hand out towards the darkened shelf, the gargantuan wooden edifice rumbles in protest. When her hand inches closer, it starts to move, grinding along the floor away from her hand. She takes a step, and swivels on an invisible axis, the face lined with book spines fleeing from her prying hands. It continues to turn, the noise amplifying as it scratches along the floor, though it doesn’t leave a trace on the ground. Its task is finished mere seconds later as it slams into its new position, wedged between this aisle and the adjacent one. The rear face of the shelf is solid, a single sheet of wood extending up by a dozen feet, leaving its contents utterly inaccessible.

But this aberration in the library’s organization doesn’t last for long. Another nearby shelf creaks to life, rumbling along the floor to fill in the gap left behind by its previous occupant. The aisle is restored to a normal appearance, but this time there are no obscured shelves: the soft reading light from overhead uniformly illuminates each shelf.

With a couple fingers, he motions for Rose to follow him sideways a few steps to inspect the adjacent aisle. As he expected, the perpendicular shelf is no longer obstructing the middle of the aisle; it has disappeared altogether. The aisle isn’t missing a bookshelf of its own, either. During the commotion of the other moving shelf, the off-limits selection stealthily exchanged itself with another shelf someplace in the vast library.

“Woah,” Rose breathes out, letting her astonishment and wonder filter through to him.

“Not so different, hm?”

“No.” She smiles, obviously glad that, despite their inherent incompatibility in the telepathic respect, they share a few things in common.

“Come on.” He reaches for her hand.

They traverse a path through a few of the aisles, towards a wing that’s bathed in a brighter, golden light. Where the dust, collecting on the shelves and visible in the rays of light shining from above, takes on an almost pinkish hue. He leads her to a stack near the middle of the third aisle, quite set on what he wants to show her. He knew this was coming all day, so he has had this particular memory prepared for hours now. Something that includes her. Something meaningful. Something that will take away some of the embarrassment she’s feeling about what she showed him earlier. He has the perfect scene in mind.

From a low shelf on their right, a text pulls itself out from the stack. It floats slowly through the air into the middle of the aisle, stopping their path. It lingers just long enough to reveal its cover, a low-quality black-and-white depiction of the Colosseum, before its cover opens slowly in front of them, angling back as it does. The first thin page in the volume catches in an invisible breeze, hanging in midair before it whips against the front cover. The wind picks up, turning page after page with growing speed.

Seeing this phenomenon, Rose clutches her fist into the sleeve of his shirt, jaw dropped open.

The air above the text swirls with glowing gold particles, and a new scene burgeons from the tumult. The bookshelves are replaced with Renaissance paintings; the flat maroon ceiling exchanged for vaulted domes and archways. The soft ambient lighting of the library is overtaken by bright sunlight filtering from large, ornate windows.

A half-finished marble statue of Rose stands in the center of the new landscape. Her facial features are easily recognizable – lips, nose, ears, eyebrows. Though they’re empty and colorless, her stone eyes still seem to gaze upon her visitors with tenderness. The statue only has one arm, the other still obscured in stone (later meant to cradle a cornucopia). While half of her tunic clings to her body, the fabric rippling in an invisible breeze, the other half is largely still a stump of marble. Her feet, don’t yet exist, either, trapped inside the rock waiting to be chiseled free.

The Doctor himself is slumped on the floor against a nearby wall, crunching noisily on an apple. His unassuming brown robe highlights his contemporary peasantry, distracting from the glaring anachronism of his hairstyle.

He finishes his snack quickly, and tosses the core onto the floor to be disposed of later. He swipes up the smooth stone and sharp chisel from the platform beneath the statue as he approaches. But, tossing the rock up and down in his palm a few times, he thinks better of it, and sets them both back where they were. Reaching a hand up tenderly, he lets a few fingers graze over the statue’s hair. His thumb brushes over her cheek, and his imagination substitutes soft warmth for the marble’s cold hardness. He allows himself to graze over her bottom lip, just once, imagining what it’d be like to touch the real version. Soft and warm, pliant beneath his touch, glistening with moisture that tempts him to taste.

Rose can feel it all, now. How much he missed the real Rose. How much he longed to touch her and, he dares to think, maybe even to kiss her.

The Doctor lets his hand drop back down to his side, and reluctantly picks up the rock and chisel to resume his masterpiece once more.

With the first clack of the rock against the chisel, the memory begins to fade. More quickly than Rose’s garden had, the library swallows up the Renaissance landscape and the Doctor finds himself standing in the aisle once again. The book in midair claps itself shut with a thud, and slowly retreats back to its shelf, kicking out a tiny mist of dust from the shelf as it settles into stillness.

Rose stares at him with wonder in her eyes, even moreso than when she first saw that statue of herself in the museum. Though she can’t hide her budding emotions well, pity and surprise and excitement already brewing between them, she tries to make light of this revelation.

“That kiss makes a bit more sense now,” she teases.

He plays along for a moment, chuckling with her, but then reaches for her hand again.

As he leads her further down the same aisle, another book awakens from the shelf, a sprawling villa on its cover.

This time, classical white pillars and togas bleed out into the aisle to obscure the library.

The Doctor integrates into the memory at the precise moment a phial of reanimation potion restarts his frozen hearts, and breathes life into his stiff, weighty limbs. Staggering forward with a rush of vertigo and disorientation, he stumbles straight into his rescuer’s arms. Overcome with joy and unspeakable pleasure at being alive, and flooded with the memories of touching the stone Rose’s lips, he leans in for a kiss. The first time he kissed Rose properly in this body. The first time he kissed her without the assurance her memory of the incident would be swiped clean.

It’s too short, little more than a strike of lightning. A flash of relief to be alive. An instant of wonder and sheer ecstasy that he can finally feel these soft, pink lips against his. It’s over before he can remember to count the precious seconds it lasted.

“Wotcha,” the memory-Rose squeaks out when he pulls away, a lovely blush on her cheeks.

As quickly as it came, the memory crumples and shrinks into nothingness in the same manner as the first, and the book returns itself back to its proper place.

“I quite enjoyed that kiss, too,” says Rose, her voice unusually wobbly.

Before he can see it coming, the Doctor is suddenly steamrolled by a surge of unbridled lust. It’s familiarly feminine, and too powerful to have originated from himself. His blood turns to searing honey in his veins, his double heartbeat pulsing pleasantly in his groin, as visceral desire tugs deep in his gut. It consumes his waking faculties too quickly for him to keep up, and the fragile mirage surrounding them crumbles and disappears.

With nothing left to distract them, the volatile new desire simply ricochets between them, growing more intense with each pass.

Equal parts enchanted and frightened by the sudden incendiary passion, the Doctor abruptly severs the link.

When he rejoins Rose in reality, she is closer than he remembers. Knees and hips against his. Her arms circled around his neck, the fabric of his shirt bundled in her fists. The gentle weight of her breasts on his chest. Her gaze can’t seem to find a place to settle, flickering from his lips down to the buttons of his shirt, occasionally meeting his eyes. But regardless of where she’s looking, it’s like she’s trying to decide which dessert to eat first. Her breaths are shallow and shaky. There’s that same delicious blush of pink on her cheeks she had back in Rome.

As if he needs another layer of proof, he inhales a slow, deep breath through his nose.  Subtle, unique scents mingle with the sweet soaps and lotions in the close air: unmistakable, intoxicating proof that Rose is aroused.