#esha suffers

[theshinazugawaslut]

College is so scary guys 😭

I just received my timetable and all the classes are like 'fundamentals of organic chemistry', 'microbiology', 'biochemistry', 'labratory skills', it all sounds so evil and menacing. I even have a statistics class for three hours!

Thursday will be the worst day for me since I'll have a three hours statistic class and four hour lab class, and then when I rush home, I'll have an online chemistry class from 6PM to 9PM that I'm doong serperately out of my own volition. So basically for ten hours I'm just suffering 👿

Maybe I'll find a nice man though, please pray I find my beautiful sweet loyal chaste future husband 🙏

[lorde--of--the--rings]

An Explanation (Rook x Lucanis)

content warnings: none, spoilers for Lucanis relationship arc.

Rook gives Lucanis the space he needs, and he gives her an explanation.

“If you looked at both of our hands,” He spoke aloud, somehow, “you would think we had lived the same life.”

"I feel,"

Rook heard his voice before she knew he had entered the room. A bit of a surprise, maybe-- it's not often that a Shadow Dragon (or a rogue) is snuck up on. But there he was, the Demon of Vyrantium-- he was born and bred for sneaking.

As she turned to face him from her spot by the fire, he finished,

"I feel as though I owe you an explanation,"

"Lucanis"

His hands flew up and his eyes closed, "Don't. I mean, sorry. Let me finish." He was standing just by the threshold to the pantry. the light from the fire tricking shadows across his tired face, his silhouette dancing against the bare wall behind him.

More than ever, he looked tired, sad-- even for a man who was in a constant state of brooding.

Rook had sat by the fireplace in the hours since their almost-kiss. She knew he needed space, it was something he needed often-- a part of Lucanis which might make him seem cold or inaccessible to others, but instead made Rook remember another version of herself, the one learning how to “be” after she was liberated from the slavers she was born under.

It was hard, she knew, ever letting someone in-- knowing that level of pure vulnerability, of being the property of another human being. The knife of fear, like a part of your own body-- a limb you had never known, a muscle constantly pulling you toward solitude.

Yet, even if it wasn't for that, for what both of them had endured, his ability to be alone, to stand alone, was enviable-- powerful even. But it meant loneliness too, for someone like her-- someone in love with a man who ran away from first-kisses, deadpanned at flirtation, who was withdrawn on his warmest days, and invisible on the rest. She had learned to be patient long ago, before the war with Solas, and even before she met Varric.

And she would be again, for him.

“Ok, at least come sit by the fire. It’s my dying wish as your jilted lover.” Esha giggled, tossing a spare cushion at the crow-- whose eyes sparkled magenta-fire the moment it hit his chest. Her curls swept off her narrow shoulders as she laughed, heaving from the intensity. He felt he couldn’t breathe.

“As you command.” He said, betraying an obvious sense of relief at her good humor.

Anyone else might have left, given him the “cold-shoulder.” Teia was gifted in such things-- sensing even the slightest rejection she could ignore Viago for days. Hell, she would even draw Caterina into it-- who was always on a woman’s side, a justifiable code of ethic she had instilled into her Grandsons at a young age. Then, suddenly, and without a hint as to why, Teia and Caterina’s silence would break-- and Viago, whether deservingly or not, was back in their good graces again.

Lucanis was always afraid of that-- the power that could be held over you, when you loved another person. He had grown accustomed to it-- the sense that he had something to atone for, and what it was he didn’t know-- couldn’t know. And in his not-knowing, he was all the more guilty. It was like that growing up around girls in Treviso.

But Rook was different. More patient than any other woman he had ever known, it was what drew Spite to her so much at first. In those early days at the Lighthouse, she was all he would talk about-- squawking to let Lucanis talk to her. But he didn’t, couldn’t, shouldn’t. How could he? The feeling of warmth he almost immediately felt toward this person, he had assumed, was due to the fact that she had rescued him. He was not weak enough for love at first sight, but there was something about Esha Mercar that made all of it-- his walls, his bitterness, even the clenching of his jaw he had suffered from since childhood, all of it, muted, loosened, melted, shifted, even the mention of her was enough.

Of anything he had faced, the power of her was the most terrifying.

The fire showed in his eyes as he sat in silence, weighing these memories and flickers of feelings-- so slippery they were gone as fast as they came.

And so the two sat, Assan squawking outside-- in chase of some wisp-- or maybe playing with one of their comrades-in-arms. Either way, the world was on the other side of a heavy oak door.

Esha was first to break the silence, “I know you told me to let you finish, but, I’m not sure that I need you to.” This got a smile from the Crow, who was certainly used to many things-- a bouquet of roses that, when smelled, would reveal a set of poisoned Tevinter throwing knives; the look in the eyes of a contract when death dawned on them, the sound of an abomination being born as it echoed against hard coral. He had seen the world, earned a rather intimidating title, faced demonic possession, and now fought Gods-- and still, Rook could surprise him.

“You’ve outwitted me? Go on.” He smiled rather coyly, leaning back to rest his palms against the rough carpet. How old the thing was, who knew-- they were in a thrice-damned ancient elf’s magical fade-lighthouse. Mierda, what has my life come to.

“No,” she said, more serious than before, the humor leaving her in a way that felt breathless, like she was going cold from top to bottom, “no, I just, I think I know how you feel.”

“What? Terrified?” Spite lunged out of him, he coughed harshly from the shock of it. “I'm not terrified. He lies. You know this.”

“Well, I am terrified, Lucanis. I’m terrified.”

She had turned to face him now, putting her hands into his lap, her eyes now wet with tears. “What could be so terrifying,” cara a voice whispered, but it wasn’t Spite. Not this time. It was his own voice, echoing harshly in his mind.

He was an accomplished assassin of the world’s deadliest mages, heir to the most powerful seat in Antiva, and this shadow dragon-- a former Tevinter slave, with eyes like amber against pine bark, with brown hair that flowed richly past her shoulders, a woman with an uncharacteristic Fereldan accent, this woman, his boss, wielded words sharper than any knife he had ever known.

“This. You, Lucanis. Sorry, Spite.” Rook giggled, her shoulders shaking gently, brushing tears from mascara-stained cheeks. His eyes flashed purple, but Spite didn’t answer. Looking down, he noticed, with a certain degree of cutting dread, the closeness between her small hands and his own-- they had moved to hers without him knowing, feeling, or approving.

“Just earlier, you joked that I don’t know when I’m walking close to the edge. I do, ok. Now, with you, there’s so much more to lose.” Back in his own body now, Lucanis takes her hands in his own. Wordlessly, he observes them, passing her small palms between his own slightly larger ones.

“If you looked at both of our hands,” He spoke aloud, somehow, “you would think we had lived the same life.” He paused to show her, their four palms face up in the shrinking space between them.

He was right, Esha realized. Remarkably, their hands bore the same collection of calluses-- years of wielding daggers, training with bows, climbing up walls and across roof-tops. Years of hiding, of surviving, of loneliness and solitude, all things loved and lost, written in the palms of these two people in the same dark room, on one side of a big oak door, somewhere in the fade, floating.

“When I tell you I understand,” Rook said, running her smooth fingertips along his, “do you get it now?”

His palms close around hers, forming two fists of entwined fingers, “Yes, cara, I do.”

[crownsofesha]

The Grand Duke Aviva of Athelney

TG was the second child born to King William II, Queen Anne, and Grand Princess Matilda in 5691 (1931). They met their future husband, Narkosian Politician Eric Thompson, in their early twenties. The pair married in 5718 ( 1958), TG originally proposed early on in their relationship, but Eric rejected the proposal. Eric proposed a couple years later. They had their only child, Prince Olivier, in 5721 (1961). Even after permanently moving to The United Republic of Narkos and having their son, TG still attended royal engagements, state, and family events in Esha. Their relationship with Prince Olivier suffered due to her being away so much. Olivier is famous for his music career and the work he did in environmental politics. Their relationship got better after the birth of TG’s eldest grandchild. They died in 5774 (2014) surronded by their siblings, husband, child, and grandchildren.

[cordelia-street]

I'm suffering from bouts of eternal lonelinessssssssssssss

Eternal??? I'm right here???? How you wound me esha

[mild-boogara]

it’s 3am and i have the binley mega chippy song stuck in my head please someone save me from myself.

[fanaticallyperfect]

i'm lowkey on the verge of just wanting to drop this entire art server ngl /srs

[someonetookmygender]

What do you think aliens would have to say about pizza? It comes in a square box, is a circle, but is eaten in triangles. I would like your opinion on this very serious matter.

Very good question, and to that we have to determine if a pizza makes sense

It is a food made for consumption by humans and that Aliens can understand. It is nutritional and provides energy for us to function and is very tasty.

It also makes sense that it is cut into triangles as there is no other easier way to eat it but also it would not be possible unless the shape it was cooked in gave that ability to eat it differently. Aliens would recognise math and it would make sense.

Pizza being served in a square would confuse them, especially if they saw it for the first time. A square box helps with keeping everything in place and it is easier to stack and deliver. Aliens though would expect a square dish from a square dish not a circle.

It's not witchcraft I swear!

Aliens would also be suspicious of pizza at first because it looks weird and you can put anything on it really. When it comes to pizza toppings, the one thing they would find horrifying is pineapple, and not for the reason you may think. Pineapples have enzymes that are extremely acidic and the feeling you get after eating a pineapple slice is from these enzymes trying to eat your flesh. This is something the aliens are terrified and scared of as some of them would literally die if they ate pineapple. Chili is also a deterrent for certain species of animals and I think that would apply to Aliens as well. Humans are just able to eat chili because we like the pain and suffering and it tastes good.

Human evolution was basically Fuck Around and Find Out when it came to food so now we have the ability to eat items that are not supposed to be eaten. It scares the Aliens, that's for sure.

But Aliens will like pizza eventually and if they deny it, it's a lie.

Thank you for asking me this most serious question Willow, and drawing my attention to it.

Professor Nua Esha

Head of Human Alien Relations Department

Ace-Wilm University of Coruscant

Do ask your serious questions! I will answer them!

[whumpbby]

Hi! So this is kind of a random ask, but I know you have beta fish, and I’m considering getting one. I’ve had beta fish in the past, and despite educating myself on how to take care of them they haven’t lived very long, so I’m hoping you’ll be able to help me. For my past beta fish, I keep them in a five gallon tank (for clarification, I never had more than one beta fish at a time. So I didn’t have multiple of them in the tank don’t worry—they just all lived at different times in the same tank) that had a filter with a pretty low flow on it. I never saw any of the fish have problems swimming with it on. I always used a highly rated water purifying product for the tank water (I forgot what it’s actually called) and I never had any sharp plants that would hurt their fins. I fed them a little every two days because I heard that feeding them everyday was bad for them. Do you happen to know what I was doing wrong? It was frustrating for me because I put a lot of effort into keeping them alive and healthy and then I would see people who kept them in small half gallon bowls have their fish outlive mine. It’s been a couple years, and I want to get another, but I don’t want to accident hurt/kill another one. How do you care for your beta fish? Do you have any advice? Sorry about the rant, but I follow you for your Jason content and happened to stumble upon some of you fish posts and need help. Thanks so much for reading this, and if you do end up offering any advice, I want to thank you for that too!

Hi dear, sorry if I took long to answer - tumblr notoriously does not inform me of messages>> 

I understand your pain - especially that the situation with bettas is very frustrating. They tend to suffer from quite a few genetic defects (they are prone to tumours, for example) and are a very abused fish in the aquatic industry.  Oftentimes by the time they will get to a caring and dedicated owner, they’ve already went through a lot:0 We just don’t know how healthy the fish is before we got it. 

I am by no means an expert, I have lost a few babies since I started the hobby a couple years ago and I can only assume what a few of them suffered from:( One thing that seems to work is leaving them and the tank alone for as long as you can once it’s all set up and cycled and running - apart form the regular maintenance. I am a chronic fiddler who needs to change and add plants, filters, etc, so I constantly have to hold myself back form doing things to the tank. My sister has the same betta for a second year now and the only thing she does with her tank is water changes once every couple weeks - and both him and a thousand of cherry shrimp that live there thriveXD 

Some things I nowadays pay attention to that may be useful, however, are:

- water temp has to be consistent, on the warmer side. I keep mine at 26-27C (I don’t know how much that is in F, sorry>>). To that effect the tank needs a lid - it will trap the warm air, protecting the betta form inhaling cold air then they come up for a breath. They labyrinth breathing organ is quite sensitive to that.

- I feed my boys twice a day, so I am not a part of the ‘feed them little’ club. I give them a little pinch of the good flake in the morning (Bug Bites is nice) and a 3-4 granules of a King Betta or a pinch of a protein-rich micro pellets in the evening. A betta breeder I talked to a couple times advised that it’s better to feed the boys a couple times a day in small quantities rather than once - keeps their digestive tracts working and they can avoid constipation. Constipation happens often with bettas and is a headache to solve. I leave frozen bloodworms for special occasions and just rotate the dry foods for variety.  

- I change water every week - and every other week make sure to vacuum gravel the substrate. In the planted tanks I vacuum only about 2-3cm of the top layer to not disturb planting substrate below and not to suck up any shrimp, so it’s a gentle operation. In the gravel where there is no growing substrate I go deep - the reason being that I want to free any possible air bubbles stuck underneath where bad bacteria may grow. 

- Pick a filter and stick to it. I was very bad at that, but I finally managed to hotwire a combo that seems to work so I will stick to it;) If you can stand the noise, I advise a sponge filter - it’s so easy to clean and manageTT If you can’t stand the hum of the air pump and the bubbles, I recommend a matten filter - or hotwiring an internal filter to a sponge filter - like so - instruction in German, but the visuals are very self-explanatory;] I used gel superglue to connect the filterhead to a sponge filter and now all I have to do once a month or rarer is to pull the sponge off and squeeze it few times in the used tank water! And sometimes clean the showerhead from algae;] It saves you so much money on the cartridges (corner sponge filters are a couple £/$ and last years) and provides extra filtration. My shrimps also eat off it;] 

- get a snail. Seriously, I have a snail in every tank - a single nerite will do best for a 5gal. They don’t breed in sweet water, don’t grow large and will keep your glass clean for you - I have not cleaned my tanks’ glass since... ever>> Joe I and Joe II do it for meXD They also provide company for the betta and something fun to look at. And he will scarf uneaten food form the gravel. 

- I assume you know about the nitrogen cycle, so I will not bore you here about bacteria and such. But a best chance of saving the betta form stress when you get him home is a cycled tank. You can get an ammonia testing set - or, if you find that a bit intimidating (I do for some reason) you can go to an aquarist shop and they will check your water for you. My local store in town does it for free. I am not sure about big box stores, tho. If you see something being wrong with the betta, check water and see if it needs to be changed asap. 

- water changes are mandatory and have to be regular. A 5gal is a convenient size - I am using a 5l bottle left over from mineral water as a measuring tool;) This way I know I am always changing roughly 1/4th of the tank’s water. It’s very easy to see how much water I removed and how much I have to put back in - I can control the water temp and add dechlotinator/vitamins etc before it goes into the tank, so I do not shock my critters with too hot or too cold water. The rule I practice is leaving the dechlorinator in the bottle for about 10 mins before pouring it all into the tank. 

- you don’t have to be intimidated by planted tanks:) A little bunch of anubias on a stick is often enough to start with and a good look for a tank, in my opinion. It also makes for a more natural space for the betta he will certainly appreciate. The less fancy stuff the better - I got my first natural rocks form the side of the road (ofc I boiled the life out of them before they got even close to the tank) and they are usually quite cheap on amazon. A stick with a plant and a rock and some small-size gravel is often enough to look good. The plants will also help with eating up nitrites and keeping the water healthy.

- goodness, what else. Medicaiton. Ok. I have tried many meds for my boys and once the fish is in a bad way not much will help, form my experience :( My med set consists of Melafix - I add it to water according to instructions whenever I see my betta without appetite or acting off. It’s a mild anti-bacterial mixture that does not affect snails/shrimp. If that does not help, I use eSHa 2000 or eSHa Exit - they are two very comprehensive meds that deal with a variety of problems. I have never used aquarium salt, but some people swear by it - there’s no specific reason I don’t use it, I just never got around to it.  

This is all the chaotic advice, but things to remember (I am not trying to be condescending, I just don't know how much you know;]) are: cycled tank, regular water changes&filter maintenance, consistent temperature and quality food. Bettas are hardy little suckers, but sometimes they are also frail in ways we can’t see until it’s too late. I am already seeing a tumour growing on one of my boys and there is nothing I can do about it except giving him the best life I can - he is still going strong, but I know he will probably not last to the end of the year. It’s a hobby that sometimes seems thankless, but if you do everything right, even if they leave early, at least you’ve given them a good and peaceful time before that:)

If I you have any more questions or just want to share woes, feel free to message, I will do my best to answer:)

[richincolor]

K. Imani's Summer Reads 2021

I have mere weeks left of the longest school year ever and I am absolutely ready to just sit by the pool, the beach, a beautiful garden, anywhere tranquil to get lost in a book. Of course my TBR list is long, but I'd thought I'd share a few with you.

Instructions for Dancing by Nicola Yoon

Evie Thomas doesn't believe in love anymore. Especially after the strangest thing occurs one otherwise ordinary afternoon: She witnesses a couple kiss and is overcome with a vision of how their romance began . . . and how it will end. After all, even the greatest love stories end with a broken heart, eventually.

As Evie tries to understand why this is happening, she finds herself at La Brea Dance studio, learning to waltz, fox-trot, and tango with a boy named X. X is everything that Evie is not: adventurous, passionate, daring. His philosophy is to say yes to everything--including entering a ballroom dance competition with a girl he's only just met.

Falling for X is definitely not what Evie had in mind. If her visions of heartbreak have taught her anything, it's that no one escapes love unscathed. But as she and X dance around and toward each other, Evie is forced to question all she thought she knew about life and love. In the end, is love worth the risk? 

The Chariot at Dusk by Swati Teerdhala

 A queen at last. An empty palace. A kingdom to save.

Esha is reeling from Kunal’s betrayal, but she has a kingdom to rule from behind a thin smokescreen—pretending to be Princess Reha while she sends her most trusted soldiers to collect Reha and Kunal by any means necessary. Traitors, after all, must be punished.

But the Yavar are attacking from every front—tracking down Kunal and Reha in the remote mountains, kidnapping Harun—in search of legendary artifacts that will give them the power to break the precarious janma bond and release the destructive magic back into the lands.

Now that the race is on to find the missing artifacts, Esha must put aside her rage and work with Kunal again—but can she find the strength to forgive him, or will the Viper have her revenge at any cost?

In the final book of Swati Teerdhala’s epic fantasy trilogy, the lands’ fate, their people’s livelihoods, and the bond that sustains their world all depend on what Kunal and Esha can offer—to the gods and to each other. 

Off the Record by Camryn Garrett

Ever since seventeen-year-old Josie Wright can remember, writing has been her identity, the thing that grounds her when everything else is a garbage fire. So when she wins a contest to write a celebrity profile for  Deep Focus magazine, she’s equal parts excited and scared, but also ready. She’s got this.

Soon Josie is jetting off on a multi-city tour, rubbing elbows with sparkly celebrities, frenetic handlers, stone-faced producers, and eccentric stylists. She even finds herself catching feelings for the subject of her profile, dazzling young newcomer Marius Canet. Josie’s world is expanding so rapidly, she doesn’t know whether she’s flying or falling. But when a young actress lets her in on a terrible secret, the answer is clear: she’s in over her head.

One woman’s account leads to another and another. Josie wants to expose the man responsible, but she’s reluctant to speak up, unsure if this is her story to tell. What if she lets down the women who have entrusted her with their stories? What if this ends her writing career before it even begins? There are so many reasons not to go ahead, but if Josie doesn’t step up, who will?

This Poison Heart by Kalynn Bayron 

 Darkness blooms in bestselling author Kalynn Bayron's new contemporary fantasy about a girl with a unique and deadly power.

Briseis has a gift: she can grow plants from tiny seeds to rich blooms with a single touch.

When Briseis's aunt dies and wills her a dilapidated estate in rural New York, Bri and her parents decide to leave Brooklyn behind for the summer. Hopefully there, surrounded by plants and flowers, Bri will finally learn to control her gift. But their new home is sinister in ways they could never have imagined--it comes with a specific set of instructions, an old-school apothecary, and a walled garden filled with the deadliest botanicals in the world that can only be entered by those who share Bri's unique family lineage.

When strangers begin to arrive on their doorstep, asking for tinctures and elixirs, Bri learns she has a surprising talent for creating them. One of the visitors is Marie, a mysterious young woman who Bri befriends, only to find that Marie is keeping dark secrets about the history of the estate and its surrounding community. There is more to Bri's sudden inheritance than she could have imagined, and she is determined to uncover it . . . until a nefarious group comes after her in search of a rare and dangerous immortality elixir. Up against a centuries-old curse and the deadliest plant on earth, Bri must harness her gift to protect herself and her family.

From the bestselling author of Cinderella Is Dead comes another inspiring and deeply compelling story about a young woman with the power to conquer the dark forces descending around her. 

The Wild Ones by Nafiza Azad

Meet the Wild Ones: girls who have been hurt, abandoned, and betrayed all their lives. It all began with Paheli, who was once betrayed by her mother and sold to a man in exchange for a favor. When Paheli escapes, she runs headlong into a boy with stars in his eyes. This boy, as battered as she is, tosses Paheli a box of stars before disappearing.

With the stars, Paheli gains access to the Between, a place of pure magic and mystery. Now, Paheli collects girls like herself and these Wild Ones use their magic to travel the world, helping the hopeless and saving others from the fates they suffered.

Then Paheli and the Wild Ones learn that the boy who gave them the stars, Taraana, is in danger. He’s on the run from powerful forces within the world of magic. But if Taraana is no longer safe and free, neither are the Wild Ones. And that…is a fate the Wild Ones refuse to accept. Ever again. 

Blackout by by Dhonielle Clayton, Tiffany  D. Jackson, Nic Stone, Angie Thomas, Ashley Woodfolk, & Nicola Yoon 

Six critically acclaimed, bestselling, and award-winning authors bring the glowing warmth and electricity of Black teen love to this interlinked novel of charming, hilarious, and heartwarming stories that shine a bright light through the dark.

A summer heatwave blankets New York City in darkness. But as the city is thrown into confusion, a different kind of electricity sparks…

A first meeting.

Long-time friends.

Bitter exes.

And maybe the beginning of something new.

When the lights go out, people reveal hidden truths. Love blossoms, friendship transforms, and new possibilities take flight.

Beloved authors—Dhonielle Clayton, Tiffany D. Jackson, Nic Stone, Angie Thomas, Ashley Woodfolk, and Nicola Yoon—celebrate the beauty of six couples and the unforgettable magic that can be found on a sweltering starry night in the city.

[brindaneer]

We are back! And what a time to be back! We hear that Hrithik's 25th film has finally been locked and it is going to be none other than Vikram Vedha. So congratulations, or as the French say, 'Felicitations' to every #Hrithikian out there. Since Hrithik will be reuniting with Saif Ali Khan after 19 years in a film, we found it apt to devote this blog to the first film they starred together in, 'Na Tum Jano Na Hum'.. Also, we have tried something different here, but let us delve into that later. First, it is time to reminisce Rahul.

The name Rahul is so embedded within our minds in association with SRK that everytime a screen character is called that, a lot of us tend to form an image of him. And SRK's Rahul is usually flamboyant, extrovert and blatantly romantic. However, in NTJNH, Hrithik's Rahul was more introverted and less exuberant. He seldom made grand romantic gestures, and when he did, he hid them. This was a different Rahul and Hrithik made him his own. In the process, he made an otherwise weak film relatable, obviously, aided by the always dependable Saif Ali Khan.

NTJNH suffered from some pretty glaring flaws as far as the story and script were concerned. Falling in love through letters might seem dated to some; nevertheless, that was never our problem. However, we do have a difference of opinion regarding the procedure they chose to write those letters in. 🤣 One of us thought it was not too ancient a technique; the other was in favour of a more modern method.

That said, we did agree on the other points. For instance, it seemed a little out of character for Akshay, an out and out cassanova, to fall so much in love at first sight with Esha that he became absolutely desperate to marry her despite knowing well she was in love with someone else. It seemed totally contrived so that it could serve the purpose of the triangular love story. Nonetheless, NTJNH had several positives too, and none more than its male lead character, Rahul.

Incidentally, Hrithik made a very similar film which released right after NTJNH. You guessed right. We are talking about Mujhse Dosti Karoge. So, now we come to the 'different' part that was mentioned at the beginning of this blog. Since these two films were so similar to each other as far as the stories were concerned, we thought it would be a good idea to amalgamate the two. It also seemed like a great opportunity to pick out the contrasts in Hrithik's characters and analyse them. So let us embark upon the journey of sketching the characters of Rahul and Raj (oh! Even Raj is an iconic SRK name which Hrithik left his unique imprint upon!)

The stories of both the films were so similar that we often feel had Mujhse Dosti Karoge released sometime later instead of the same year, it would probably have fared much better at the box office. If the point of consideration is film quality, Mujhse Dosti Karoge was perhaps a better film overall. It was better packaged, more slick and had the magic of Hrithik-Rani together.

Nevertheless MDK had its share of contrivances as well. Who can forget the clueless parents of Raj and Puja and the ever oblivious Tina who never understood that those two were madly in love with each other, although anyone with an iota of sense would have guessed it immediately? Well, thanks to them for their ignorance since we did get some pretty intense Hrithik-Rani moments in the film.

Although NTJNH lacked the slickness of MDK which is an important part of a commercial entertainer, it had an inherent honesty about it, which is always more attractive than the former. In that sense, it probably could have been a better film than MDK, but for certain technical issues. And most of that honesty, if not all of it, was generated by the character of Rahul.

Rahul was the noblest side in the triangle between Akshay, Esha and him. An introvert with a golden heart, ever ready to sacrifice his happiness, and even the love of his life, for his best friend and the family that cared for him. Interestingly, this same role was played by Rani as Puja in Mujhse Dosti Karoge, while Hrithik's Raj was as different from Rahul as he could possibly be.

Raj was assertive, stubborn, and at times outright cruel, but only because he loved as much as Rahul did. While Rahul chose to pine quietly, hidden from everyone, Raj refused to let Puja destroy her own happiness and his. In this, he resembled Esha to some extent, although he was far more headstrong than her. And here, we must acknowledge the bundle of talent that is Hrithik Roshan.

pic credit google

Rahul's innocence was reflected in his eyes in NTJNH and those same gorgeous eyes flashed with anger and hurt when Raj found Puja willing to give him up. His breathtaking helplessness as Rahul during the revealation of Esha's identity, grief in 'Tum' and 'Ja Sanam', frustration and finally painful submission in the scene with Akshay where he wanted him to tell Esha that he did not love her, in juxtaposition with Raj's anger upon discovering Puja's lie, determination in not letting her sacrifice their love, jealousy everytime Rohan came in Puja's vicinity, and finally mad passion during blatant proclamations such as 'Main Tina ko shaadi ke mandap mein khara chod dunga' (I shall leave Tina standing alone at the wedding) proved yet again that bollywood had finally got a star who could captivate audiences with his acting skills even in commercial entertainers.Here was an actor who could be both vulnerable and strong, and never seem out of place with any of it.

Of course, this discussion shall remain incomplete unless we mention Hrithik-Saif and Hrithik-Rani's on screen chemistry.

Hrithik and Saif exuded a natural bonding and ease with each other on the screen which made any scene with the two enjoyable. Their comic timing was perfect, without going over the top.

The serious scenes were so well done on either side that they left us wanting for more.

Thank God for Vikram Vedha!🤪

And what do we even say about Hrithik-Rani? Well, suffice it to say that in our opinion, the fact that these two have never worked together again is one of the greatest tragedies of modern bollywood.

gif credit unknown

Let us just hope that someone out there is writing a script which will be worth both their time.

On that note, we end this blog in the hope that we have been able to satisfy our readers. We also pose a question to you- whose perspective, in your opinion was correct? Rahul or Raj? 😉

Last, but in no way the least, we wish this entire fandom and the man himself #HrithikRoshan a very very Happy Holi. May this festival wipe away the greys of Covid and spread colours of joy amongst all of us in days to come.

[theshinazugawaslut]

I just took the biggest fattest wet shit.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

A Family of Five- Part 2: Like Sugar, With Salt

Calum and Harlowe’s marriage hasn’t always been easy, but it has always been filled with love. This is a collaborative experience with In Sorrow and In Joy. Dad!Calum. Black OC.

CW: Over the course of this series, there are mentions of pregnancy, therapy, and postpartum depression. There is also 18+ Content (Smut)

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No one has my permission to repost my work of fiction. This includes translations as well. 

__________________________

Harlowe is still laying in bed. The alarm went off hours ago. She managed to get up, change her clothes. Calum made her eat with him and the kids. But the second she could escape, shower, and change again, she crawled right back into bed. The TV plays. Normally she would be watching it, but it’s more like the TV is watching her. The afternoon has settled in nicely, a bright clear day. She knows she ought to get up. There’s laundry to do. There’s lunch to fix. The very least is laundry. The absolute minimum. Calum can’t do it all himself. Laundry, she can do laundry. Throwing her feet to the floor, she pushes up. Just do laundry. Just do laundry. 

She walks into Te Koha’s room first. His toy trains lining the molding of his floor. He likes to think this is cleaning, since it’s not in the middle of the floor. He’s stubborn that way. Her and Calum have both collectively just let this happen. It doesn’t interfere too much and she’s glad at the very least that it’s not cluttered in the middle. There’s a path--and it works. Pulling his tiny hamper, she drags it behind her in, leaving it near the door before checking Esha’s room. Even though she’s still barely a toddler, she has her own hamper. Harlowe thought it would be frivolous but Esha wants everything Te Koha has, his tiny shadow. 

Grasping both hampers, she carries them down stairs. There’s no one inside. There’s not a giggle or chuckle or the twinkle of Pepper’s tag. It’s unusual for sure. But it’s not crazy. Just noteworthy, the silence settles thickly. Just the barely audible hum of fridge. She walks over to the kitchen window and sees Calum bouncing Esha as Te Koha runs around with his airplanes, Pepper runs behind him. Koha spies her from the window and smiles. His chubby cheeks lift as he waves. “Momma!” he shouts.  

She leans over the counter, pushing open the open the window. “Hi baby!”

“Will you come outside today?”

The question hurts. Things have gotten so bad again. Harlowe knows that. She just never thought her children would notice. Just go out for him. Go out for him, Harlowe chants to herself. She nods.. “I gotta put some clothes in the washer, but yeah, I’ll come out.”

The smile on his face radiates. He cheers. “Need help? I can help?”

“No, baby. Mommy’s got it. Keep an eye on Papa Bear for me. Make sure he doesn’t step on my rose bushes,” she adds. 

“I can hear you, you know,” Calum gripes. Koha laughs, but resumes his running with the toy plane. Calum steps closer to the open window. “If you don’t feel like coming out, don’t push yourself. Take it one step at a time.”

She exhales. It’s good for her. Just for a little bit. “I should go out.”

Esha whines in Calum’s arm, reaching for something below. He sets her down. “Okay, baby girl, I know. Down, I know.” She trots toward Koha. Calum turns back to Harlowe. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? Please?”

“I will.” He eyes her, head tilting forward. “I promise.” He knows she’ll suffer in silence. They both will. To a fault. Even if it’s bad, but that’s just who they are. A cry starts up; Esha. Doesn’t sound particularly bad, it’s more like a startled cry. 

Calum jogs over. “What happened, baby girl? You’re okay.”

“She just tripped,” Koha says. 

She leaves the window open. The small chirps and sounds of life help, make her feel less isolated. She sorts their clothes by colors and tosses them into the machine. The kids have a special detergent and she grabs it, always a little shocked by how heavy it is. The washing machine begins to rumble. She rests her hands onto it, feeling the vibrations shake up her hands and arms. She is still alive. Right? 

The back door is unlocked from when Calum took the kids and dogs out. She wonders if Calum knew that she needed a moment’s silence. Or maybe he was worried. If the kids watched her fall apart for too long, would they become hyper concerned? Would they want to do nothing because she was doing nothing? What was she teaching her kids? Her forehead falls into the glass of the door. She can’t teach them that. She can just water the flowers, right? 

There’s still lunch to fix. The kids will be getting hungry soon. She can get to that right? Calum’s here. They’ll get that that. She twists the doorknob, stepping onto the warm wood of the deck.  Koha rushes up the porch steps, wrapping his arms around her legs. Brushing her palm over his back, she sucks back tears. Koha’s only ever wanted good for her. He deserves his old mother back. Not her now, covered under a thick blanket of tired, of doubt, of shame. “We didn’t water the flowers yet, Momma. Do you want to do that? Can I help?”

He starts to pull back from her. Harlowe’s quick to wipe her tears from her face. “Yeah, let’s go water the flowers.” The walk to the garage door. It cranks after she types in the code before they walk inside, Te Koha takes hold of her hand. Harlowe gives it a squeeze, smiling, however briefly down at her son. A spitting image of her. With Calum’s soul. 

Things were better when he was first born. Harlowe had gotten pregnant with Te Koha well before she and Calum had ever considered getting married. But it didn’t matter. Besides, Harlowe will never forget the day Calum did propose, down on one knee in the middle of her empty apartment. He was sweaty for sure, having helped move her out so she could stay with him. She was swollen, stomach, ankles, feet. Everyone that looked at her was afraid she’d pop at any second. But it was Calum who popped instead, on his knee, to take her hand. 

He was going to do right by her. After nearly fucking things up. He couldn’t loose Harlowe a second time. Her pregnancy with Te Koha was fine. There were aches and pain for sure. But she felt fine. She was fine. Te Koha was a fairly easy baby. And now there is just a fog. Esha wasn’t a worrisome baby. She was stubborn and a opinonated, even at two. But she wasn’t difficult. It was just Harlowe’s brain. Her brain was making things hard. 

“Momma?” Te Koha asks, taking his water can from her hands. He can see the frown pulling down his mother’s face. 

“Yes, baby?”

“I’m sorry you’re sad,” he whispers. “I promise to be good.”

She gasps, a short explosion of air before her chest squeezes. She kneels in front of her little boy. His brown eyes are teary up like mine. Cupping his face between her palm, she brings his attention to her. “What’s happening to me is not your fault. It’s not Papa Bear’s fault; it’s not even Esha’s fault.”

“Then what happened?” He sniffs, wiping underneath his nose. “You were so different before.”

“Momma’s had some serious health issues. It’s…. been hard on me. But it’s not your fault. Please, please, please don’t think it. I wish I wasn’t like this. Mommy wishes she could be her old self. I am so sorry.”

“Is there is anything I can do to help?”

“Just keep being you baby boy. Just keep being you.”  She wipes the tears that have fallen from his skin. “Do you still want to help me water the flowers?”

He nods. “Yes. I always do.”

“Okay,” she whispers. “Let me grab my can.” They walk to the hose, Harlowe filling Koha’s up first. Then filling hers. He trails behind, waiting for the every other plant that Harlowl leaves to him.  He sticks his tongue out a little, watching as the water slips over and splashes onto the ground. Harlowe pauses occasionally to pluck the dead leaves and weeds around certain plants. Te Koha follows suit, under the careful eye of his mother. This is the mom he remembers. A soft smile on her lips when he pulls hard at a weed and successfully uproots it. A small cheer of pride echoes from his chest. 

“Need any help?” a voice says behind me.

Harlowe looks over her shoulder. Koha shoots up from his seated position. “Uncle Mikey!” 

Michael laughs, collecting Koha into his arms before picking him up. “Oh, you’re getting big. No wonder Cal’s got arms like fu--freaking Superman. Lifting kids all day is a great work out.”

“Michael, what are you doing here?” Harlowe’s not sure of her own voice. It’s strange for sure. But there’s a glimmer of something light, something like happiness. It is happiness. He’s still the same. With the basketball hat, the fringed hair, the leather bracelets, and the rings. 

He opens his free side to her and Harlowe folds into his embrace. “Cal called me over. Said you were having a decent day. Wanted to check in.”

Harlowe and Michael have, over the years, gotten close. They bonded originally over video games. Harlowe has her degree in psychology and through her willingness to always listen to him they grew closer. Michael isn’t necessarily reserved but he’s not always forthcoming about things. He’s vocal when it’s necessary. Harlowe never judged--she pushed occasionally for him to open up. But she never sneered at him, never berated him over his feelings. She just listened. 

Michael returned the favor. He’s always become a great pillar of support since this funk after Esha’s birth. She had shockingly cried to Michael a couple times about her inability to conceive a third child. She wanted to give Calum that picture perfect family. Her body and mind weren’t ready for that--they were telling her to slow down. She always had trouble listening. 

“It’s been okay,” she says softly, pulling back from his hug. 

“Okay is good. Okay is great.”

“Are you going to help us?” Koha asks. 

Michael laughs. “Sure, why the--why not?” Michael’s still working at censoring him around the kids. Almost five years should’ve been enough practiced but Michael was only the uncle currently with no kids. He didn’t have the filter on all the time.

The three of them settle back down in the front garden. Harlowe pulls out the gardening seat for Michael to sit. He complained about potentially ruining his jeans. “Look!” Koha puts out a bug, nestled into the mulch. Harlowe pulls back his hands a little. Even though he’s wearing gloves, she fears that it could be a snake or spider. It’s not though upon closer inspection. 

By the time they move to the side of the house where the kitchen window is, Calum gazing out of it. “Lunch’s up soon, bud. Come inside and wash your hands,” he says softly to Koha. 

Koha and Harlowe look up at each other. The window is opened just enough. “Can I Momma?”

She grins and looks over to Calum. Hhe sighs, hopping onto the counter and holding out his hands. “Fine, you two are definitely fucking Aries.”

“Swear jar, Papa Bear,” she laughs, sliding off the gloves and hoisting Koha up. He grabs Calum’s forearms and he slides in through the window. Calum sets him down. “Wash your hands now. I don’t want to find actual ants on your ants on a log.”

She just barely catches Koha’s laugh as he walks away from the window. “He loves going in through the window. Why not let him live a little?”

“Because then he’ll think it’s normal to climb in through the windows,” Calum laughs. 

“You saying it’s not?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, missy.” They share a laugh. Including Michael. He’s used to their shenanigans. “You coming in for lunch?” Cal asks. 

“Once I finish up out here. Shit, the laundry.”

Calum shakes his head. “One load is already done. Second load is in the dryer.”

“I’m so sorry I forgot.”

“Baby, it’s okay.”

She sighs. “I’m just so off. I hate this.”

“Just consider the meds, think about it, okay? I’m not asking you to makeup your minds just yet. But don’t count it out.”

Michael rests a hand on her back, not quite on her shoulder but not quite off it either. “They honestly could help, Harlowe. Don’t eliminate the possibility. I know you don’t want to take meds. I know you can do this without. But you don’t have to.”

“The ACT is helping, I think. I just don’t want to add more to our medical expenses. I’m already running it up as it,” Harlowe counters. 

Calum wishes he could shake his wife sometimes. Snap her out of whatever haze she was in. Or just get her to see that he cares not what dime amount it costs. “You know money is not a problem here.” Harlowe opens her mouth. Calum continues before she can interject it. “Finish up in your beds and then come in and eat. Relax the rest of the day. Think you can finish the beds?”

She nods. It’s been weeks since she’s been out here. Calum tries to do it for her. Harlowe’s picky, picking it up from her mother and her grandmother the particular meticulousness when it comes to her yard. He does what he knows she likes and knows how to keep the basics up  but doesn’t push it too much further. 

He slides off the counter. “Ready to eat little man?” Koha nods. 

Harlowe goes back to her yard. Michael calls into the window for something before handing a bottle of water to Harlowe. “Maybe you should get out of LA,” he says holding the bag for weeds open.

“You sound like Calum now. You guys have been working here for years now.”

“It doesn’t mean that we can’t move, you know? We’ve been discussing going back to Sydney, anyway. Going back to our roots, settling down. Cal and Luke already have kids. LA’s no place to raise kids.”

She rips the weed from the dirty. Some mulch flies up through the hair. It lands and Harlowe stares down at it. “ I don’t want to be lectured at about moving.Then I have to look for a new university to work out. I’ve got three years where I’m at.”

“You’re not tenured. You said they’re already discussing making changes to the Creative Writing department.”

“I love the kids I work with. They’re brilliant. I have great reviews from them. They’d be crazy to get rid of me.” She yanks at out another weed.  

Michael sighs. “They’ve done crazier things before, you know that better than anyone.”

“Even if the band moves back, it will still take me awhile to find work. I can’t force Calum to take care of the bills alone.”

“Harlowe, you’re making fucking bank. Calum’s smart and has been for years now. He could handle everything and more by his income alone.”

He’s right. Calum’s invested some money. Most of those profits go towards savings for the kids future education plans. Advancements from albums and merch sales have also been sitting in savings for them. Her income is chump change comparatively. Calum’s always treated it equally. The sales from her books helps too for kids savings. Her salary covers half the bills.  My income is chump change compared to him.

She could move. Maybe she should. Calum’s been dropping the possibility more and more since everything went downhill. “My family,’” she says softly. 

“They’re going to cause you to go gray.”

A sob chokes her. Her chest squeezes. When did she start crying? When did the tears burn her eyes? I’m so used to being able to handle things. I don’t know what to do.”

Michael rubs at her back, shushing her softly. “You’re allowed to be weak. Being strong doesn’t mean being able to handle everything. It’s about knowing your limits, knowing when you need help.”

It takes a few minutes before the tears subside. The water soothes the ache in her throat. The passing moments are filled with silence. Michael points to some small green leaves, making sure it’s okay to pull before he gets a grip on it. He can’t tell if it’s a new plant or not and would rather not cause her another crying fit. Harlowe nods before clipping off some browning leaves. 

“You are not alone in this, okay? Remember that.”

“Thanks, Michael.” 

She watches, to make sure he gets safely to his car. It’s all the years of drinking as a young woman and knowing that any moment could be someone’s last. It’s the years of being a mother and freaking out whenever Te Koha decides to hide behind a rack or mannequin. She has to see with her own eyes to everyone’s safely. 

When she gets inside, after double checking the lock on the door, she notices  Esha’s standing with her little horse. Her smile is bright. Harlowe does her best to return it as she goes to wash her hands. Esha clambers right behind her, the clacking of the plastic striking the floors. Harlowe steps to get a paper towel. More clacks are heard. 

Harlowe runs in a circle, the clicking following her ‘round and ‘round. She scopes up her little girl, lifting Esha above her head. “You’re getting so big, girlie. I love you.”

She giggles at Harlowe. “You’re not tired?” Harlowe asks. “You should be tired by now. You ran behind Koha today. He’s a fast one. My little zoomer.”

When she looks over to him, sitting at the table, tracing over the alphabet with Calum, he grins. “Nyoom,” he laughs. 

“Down,” Esha pleads. It’s softly at first. Then she repeats herself, more firmly, when the request is not immediately fulfilled. “Down.” 

“So demanding, you’re my child. Lord help you.” Harlowe sets her down and she runs back to her horse. 

Calum chuckles. “Alright, c’mon, Koha. You’re half way done.”

“I’m being Momma’s little zoomer,” he huffs but goes back to tracing. 

Calum turns his attention back to Harlowe. “Make sure to eat.” 

She nods. She’s not very hungry though. She knows she should be. But she’s just not. Her appetite goes most days. “Want to shower first.”

He points to the fridge. He means right now. “Please, baby. Just something. A turkey sandwich and apple. It doesn’t have to be a lot. I even bought pink ladies, your favorite.”

“I smell.”

“Harlowe.”

She knows that tone. She marches to the fridge to find the plate all ready for her. She knows, during the first couple of bites that she won’t get it all down. Something is better than nothing under Calum’s watchful stare. She pretends not to notice his constant glances and gazes out of the same window that Te Koha was lifted through. They both know the other is watching. 

More than half the sandwich is gone and the whole apple is finished. Harlowe tips the plate in Calum’s direction before dumping the core and sandwich remnants. He gives a slight nod. His acknowledgement of what she’s eaten. He worries. Maybe more so than he should. But who can fault the concern? Who can find any issue in the pure love that he carries for her? He wants her to be okay. 

Harlowe walks over to the penmanship study and tugs at Calum’s elbows. “You stink, you know?” he teases. 

She lifts an arm, turning the armpit to his face. “Wanna try something else smart to say?” 

Calum rears back. “God, I can’t breathe. Te Koha, help me. I’m going to suffocate from the stink.”

Koha laughs in his seat. “Sorry Daddy, I have to finish tracing.”

“My own son betrays me,” he gasps, pretending to pass out. No one reacts. “So you all were just going to let me die? Even you Esha,” Calum sits up, pulling her into his chest. He smiles over Harlowe’s shoulder to her. She coos, smacking her toys together in excitement. “Yeah, even you were just going to leave your old man high and dry. No love.”

She stands and walks over. Harlowe end down to pick her up. She reaches for Calum though. “She’s such a daddy’s girl,” Harlowe laughs. 

“I love you,” he breathes into her skin, lips brushing over from the forehead kiss.. “I love you so much. Mommy loves you too. You too, Koha,” he says turning his attention to his son, brushing his fingers through the tight coils. “We love you too.”

“I know,” he says softly. A grin taking over his face. “I know.”

Harlowe decides on a soak. But after her shower. The shower will let her cry if she needs too. Though, after her tears in the garden, she thinks today will be decent. The rose scent of the bubbles starts to invade her nostrils. Her eyes close and Koha’s face fills her dark vision. His tears. His plea for her to get better. Her own children take the blame for her brain’s reaction. 

The sting starts up behind her closed lids. God, she’s so unfit. With lips pressed together, Harlowe tries to quiet the sobs. It’s just about nap time; she doesn’t want to wake them. But God, how unfit. Unable to remember the laundry she had started. Hardly able to keep the yard together and in good shape. Can’t even a fucking sandwich. 

Every second she can sit in bed, she does. Calum must think she’s disgusted with him. Harlowe hasn’t touched him sexually in months. She wants too, just lacks the motivation to go through with it. All her energy is spent before her feet ever hit the floor. Covering her mouth, she lets one nasty sob rip through her. The floor thuds with footsteps; Calum’s heard. Fuck. She sniffles. Pull it together. He can’t see her crying again. He doesn’t even bother knocking, not that he needed to anyway. If he heard the wail, she knows he would’ve broken down the door if necessary. 

“Babe,” he rushes out, settling onto the edge of the tub. “Talk to me, please.”

Her hands tremble; her throat hurts. The words are stuck in the dryness that coats her mouth. Grabbing her towel from the counter, he sets it on his lap before pulling her out of the water. Calum wraps the extra fabric, then holds her to his chest. The rocking motion helps. All she has to do is focus on the back and forth motion. She doesn’t have to think about anything else. 

“Te Koha thought it was his fault,” she breathes. The words are sour. She feels like there is bile on them as she speaks. “He thought he had done something wrong. I forgot about the laundry. I’m barely eating. I’m falling apart. I don’t want to fall apart. I’m not taking the fertility meds like I should. I want to give up; I don’t want to keep doing this.”

Calum finally speaks, voice thick. “Do you want to get better?”

“Sometimes I do; sometimes I don’t.”

“Right now, do you want to get better?”

“I’m just tired, Calum. I’m so fucking tired.”

“You know I’m here for you. You know I care, right?” She nods against his chest. “Do you trust me?” She nods again, clutching onto the cotton t-shirt. He releases a breathe. “Then we can’t stay here. You can’t keep dodging therapy appointments. You can’t skip your meds.”

“I know; I’m sorry.”

Calum kisses the top of her head, or what he can reach of it behind the pineappled afro. “I need some extra hands. We need some extra hands; I know a nanny scares you. But we’re getting out of LA, as quick as possible. I’m calling your parents, see if they can help for a little bit. But we’ve gotta get out of here. I know you’re worried about insurance costs and such. But maybe it’s time to leave the States. My parents could help us; I’m sure they’d be happy to.”

She is small, in that moment she is that eleven year old girl that cried in a bathroom because she heard her parents arguing. She is that eleven year old girl that needed her father’s comforting touch. She is small again, in Calum’s lap, still damp from the shower and bath. She needs someone to help her. Maybe she can stop torturing herself, her husband, and her kids. 

“Okay,” she whispers. “I need the help.” A tiny drop of relief hits her stomach. She needs help. She needs help. She just needs the help. There’s no shame in that, right? There’s nothing wrong in admitting that sometimes the burden is just too heavy to carry all by herself.

[regnantlight]

There were many members of Zelda’s court, some she knew well, some she didn’t. Some most notable include:  General Alard, 30: The lead War General of Hyrule, he was described as a ruggedly handsome man with brown skin, shaved black hair, and light brown eyes. He was fierce, strategic, ruthless and clever, which helped him climb the military ranks at a frightening pace. At the age of 25, he married Lady Esha and had two sons with her. He once mentioned that if he was the advisor to the king on all things regarding the war, Esha was his advisor on all things concerning victory. He died during the Calamity War.  

Lady Esha, 25: The lead Lady-In-Waiting to Princess Zelda, Esha was a lovely woman of mixed race, sporting light brown skin, curly black hair, and dark brown eyes. Skilled in multi-tasking, she was in charge of managing her schedule for social/spiritual/educational obligations, helped to provide official correspondences, and acted as her advisor when away from the castle. She was proudly married to General Alard, with whom she had said sons. Esha and her sons were able to escape the war thanks to her husband providing them an escape, and she re-married at the age of 50. 

Lord Byron, 78: The unofficial expert on all things Hylia, he was seen as the prime example of piety and led Zelda’s spiritual education. Never an overly attractive man, he had pale white skin, gray eyes, balding silver hair, and a long skinny nose. He also, unofficially, provided personal advisement to the King on all areas of Hyrule, though his opinion wasn’t always taken into account. He survived the war and lived to be 88-years-old, writing many poor opinions on Zelda’s failure to access her power due to her lack of faith. 

Major Reginald, 34: The previous Captain of the Royal Guard, before being promoted. He had reddish-brown hair, hazel eyes, freckles for days, and a low-tolerance for excuses. Under his leadership, the Royal Guard was strict, thorough, and consistent. He traveled once a year during the fall to different towns in Hyrule, offering a chance for possible new recruits to prove their worth. He was married to a non-Hyrule native man of no rank named Stigr. Due to him, a small group of Guards were able to ultimately retreat and survive the war, but Reginald suffered an amputated leg and lost sight in his right eye. 

Madame Barbetta, 63: The Royal Hyrule Historian and Caretaker of the Royal Library. She was a red feathered Rito with a short, dark, and pointed beak, whose family served as Hyrule Historians for five generations. She was unmarried and dedicated much of her of personal life to supporting the arts through patronage. It is thanks to her efforts that so many historical books for Hyrule survived, as she smuggled as much as she could out after the War was lost. Her life was ultimately lost during an attempt to retrieve more books.   

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Hey girl . I get what you’re saying about being raised in LA but I genuinely feel like If you WANT to find beauty in black women you WILL. No matter where you are . There are SOOO many beautiful black women walking around LA . MBJ is the same dude that said he wasn’t with Black women in Italy because “ there aren’t that many”. If he really wanted a black woman there he could have flown one in like he did Esha from Australia . He’s problematic but there are a lot worse out there.

Yeah, talking and doing are two different things, and Black men get real sensitive when stuff looks suspect and people mention it. I have male relatives who are raised in the blackest places around black people all up through their teens (Jersey, Texas, Georgia, South Carolina, Mississippi etc) and they still don’t date Black women and say disparaging things about them as they float with non-Black women. MBJ has them deep Newark roots, but that doesn’t always mean anything. (see Kanye and rooted Chicago Blackness. Still lost him to the Hollywood streets,lol) 

Personally, I don’t care who dates whom. This country holds a hierarchy of standards that we all suffer under, and Black women across this country are so amazing. To not visibly date any publicly (or catch any of those celebs on vacation paparazzi pictures) makes me feel sad for HIM. Date and fuck the rainbow by all means (I encourage Black Women to do the same because there are millions of non-Black men out there who are amazing), but don’t say negative anti-Black things about Black Women because I will cut you, lol! And as far as I know, Mike ain’t never done that publicly. And yes, those who really rock with us will find beauty in us and flaunt us,(or at least be caught in some frolicking on the beach photos in Italy). Of course we are all just speculating and he could be knee-deep in Black women privately, BUT I WANT TO SEE IT! Lol!

He will always be Wallace to me, and will always be that little sweet-faced teen from the soaps back in the day. Despite the fact that I write filthy fics with him as Killmonger, there is a sweetness and earnestness in him that will allow me to overlook glitches in the matrix. I’m interested in him as an artist who is still growing, despite the jokes about him not being able to act and his short stubby fingers...(people be so rude! Short stubby fingers need love too!)

Anyways, let me get back to writing about Killmonger!

[ranbeer-blog2]

Ruchi came to home after work when she saw few posts of today on the table. she went throgh it when she noticed an white envelop. nothing was mentioned above it except the name. "Mr.A"

she was surprised. what's in this envelop? she curiously opened it & found a letter inside. She started reading.

"Hello Ruchi,

you may not remember me. But I know you very well. I hope you will know my name by the end of this letter.

Ruchi, I want you to know that I think about you all the time.

Every day I wonder what would have happened if you had not left, but I suppose it’s better this way.

I have been alone since then. as we both are art lover, If you were with me, I would ask you to take me to museums, photo exhibitions and galleries, as well as to plays, orchestral concerts and book readings. Surely it would be great.

Today the only thing I would like to be able to imagine is what your smile looks likes.

I wonder what your eyes look like when you get sad, or how your forehead wrinkles when you’re angry. I would take many pictures of you, & also you would get able to take many pictures of me because I finally have been able to buy that expensive camera that you  always wanted, the one you asked for so much & the one because of which you left me.

but my dear, as a single & poor dad, i didn't have money for that at that time & and I am really sorry about that.

I was always left wanting to know what it would feel like if you said to me, “How are you,dad? ” . I always wanted to eat food made by you. last time I taste food of home was 30 years ago before your mom died. Too bad you could never do it.

Nothing is wrong, Ruchi. I understand that you are very busy.

tears started flowing from Ruchi's eyes. It was her fathers latter. she ran from him in anger just when she was fifteen. it has been 20 years since that incident.she never tried to contact him..today she was a succesful woman. she wiped her tears & continued reading...

You left. But I know it was not my fault, I couldn't be a best father & also never fill up the love which your mother could have give you.

I still remember the day you left. I would have liked to know that time that I would never able to see you again so that I could have hug you tightly and tell you that I will always love you.

I have tried in many ways to fill that deep emptiness that I feel, but I couldn't.

I am just an old man now who can't walk more than 5 minutes straight. The only support I had was you which was taken away from me. Now the support of the walker is the only one which I have. I am suffering from stage 4 bone cancer. My nights have been getting more & more painful now.

I didn't want to disturb you from your work. but as i am very near to my last breaths, i wanted to see you, hear you & share what I felt about you. You were the most beautiful thing that happened in my & Esha,your mother's life. 

I know I said that I was always going to love you, but today I am convinced that the only thing I love is the idea of what you could have been. I only have to say that I had heard about you that you have been so successful in your work and it is the greatest gift you have given me. I am relally proud of you.

I don't know anymore that who I am in your life. that's why i chose a name Mr.A.

I really hope you are well. I send you a hug and a goodbye kiss, wherever you are. with hoping to see a beautiful face from lying on my bed with few last breaths, i am saying goodbye. I don't know If i will be alive or not when you are reading this but I want to tell you that I LOVE YOU & i will always miss you & pray for your well being to God.

Take care.

Your..............

With full of tears, Ruchi ran outside to find & meet her Dad.

[liliumlies]

No Sell || Arthur || Re: Espada, Kislap

"I do not believe you." Arthur says flatly, looking directly at Espada. "If you were working with another participant, you would not care if we voted for you. You would have no need to defend yourself, or to confess to as much as you have."

He speaks his vote, and his head tilts slightly as the count is updated.

"...Is that sufficient to confirm that Espada and Esha Mannan are two different people?" Arthur leans on his podium, almost slumping as the exhaustion starts to set in. "We cannot trust her. We cannot trust her with our information, we cannot trust that if we vote for someone else they will not suffer death, and we cannot trust that if we let her go she will not kill again."

He is quiet for a moment, staring at Espada still.

"I do wish you to know that this is not out of any personal grievance. I understand you have your reasons, and you are neither the first nor, I am sure, the last who will kill in this Rite. But you are guilty, of that much I am certain."