#i love how folk dances are built up of little moves in different orders

[muirneach]

listening to square dance calls while i do my school work 😭 im so me coded

[leggything]

Package Notification Pt.1

Package Notification

The subject line caught my attention as is flashed in the corner of my monitor. I clicked on the notification and read that a delivery had arrived at my apartment and would be held at the front desk until I was able to retrieve it. I wasn’t expecting anything but quickly put it out of my mind, it was probably a free trial I forgot to cancel or something. I deleted the email and went back to the report I had been drafting, hitting the back button on my phone a couple of times to replay the last few seconds of the podcast I had been listening to.

I left work a bit early. It was Friday and I wanted to beat the crowds on the train home. Unfortunately I wasn’t quite early enough to find a seat so by the time I walked through the door of my building I was only thinking about my bed.

The desk attendant perked up as I stepped in, “Hey Andy,” he said “I was just sorting the mail and a package came for you. Let me quick grab it.”

“Oh thanks so much Sean,” I said, pulling my headphones out of ear, “I would have totally forgotten.”

“No problem dude,” Sean replied as he rummaged behind the desk. He was a sweet kid, just out of college. His family was close the folks that owned our building so he usually came back to help run things over summers.

“And— here you are!” He said, as he popped back into view, blowing away a stray curl that had fallen in front of his eyes, “see you around!”

“Thanks again Sean, happy Friday!” I said, waving as I opened the door to the stairwell.

I turned the package over in my hands as I climbed the three flights to the apartment. It wasn’t a meal delivery kit or a pack of razors as I had suspected, just an unassuming grey plastic package with a normal UPS label. No return address for some reason. After fumbling for my key I unlocked the door, set my bag down and slipped off my shoes. Friday at last. It felt good to kick my shoes off after standing for so long.

Package still in hand I went to the couch and tore open its grey plastic as I sat down. Inside the bag my hands felt smooth woven fabric and something else that was stiffly textured. Out of the bag came an embroidered tunic and, as they unrolled in my hand, a pair of soft grey footed tights. My face flushed as I realised what I had received. A ballet costume.

I felt a mix of confusion and excitement. I certainly would have remembered if I had ordered something like this. I loved ballet, the beautiful precision of movement, the romance of the storylines, but really I was in it for the dancers. I loved watching them move, muscular yet flexible, lithe and powerful. The way their costume tights hugged every curve of their calves and thighs, squeezing each cheek of their powerful asses and the curve of their pronounced bulges, it was heaven. I definitely didn’t place the order for this costume, but it certainly didn’t come to me by mistake.

Reluctantly setting the tights and tunic down on the table, I glanced into the package again, looking to see if there was anything else. No shoes or dance belt, but there was a small piece of paper. I reached back in and pulled out the rough piece of card-stock. A note was printed on in flowing script:

Hope this turns your dream into reality.

x

Now I was nervous. I wasn’t exactly open about my, ahem, love of ballet. My closest friends and previous partners didn’t even know, and yet someone had anonymously sent gear to my home which meant my big secret wasn’t as secret as I thought. I pulled out my phone, there was one person who I had connected with online about ballet stuff, but they definitely didn’t know my address and I hadn’t heard for them in a week or so. Nonetheless I sent out a text:

Hey, I just got some ballet gear in the mail. You didn’t send me anything did you?

I was a little nervous and needed to chill out so I went into the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. Taking the first sip, I glanced back out to where the ballet outfit sat on the table. The anonymous package thing was weird, but it was also definitely hot. And though I loved looking at ballet dancers and often had fantasies about what it would be like to be one, I had never actually gotten up the courage to actually take a class or buy a pair of tights.

Taking another sip of my beer, I walked back out to the couch. I set down my beer and picked up the tunic. It looked and felt well made, different shades of gold and yellow thread in a brocade foliage design against white backing. It was short and tailored in at the waist, probably a bit snug on me, but on a slim dancer it would sit perfectly above the waist - emphasising their toned abdomen and, when facing away from the audience, their powerful glutes. I was getting a little turned on thinking about it. Whether I fit or not, I had to try it on.

I unbuttoned my shirt and slipped off my slacks, tossing them on the couch along with my socks. I hesitated a bit before taking off my underwear, the outfit hadn’t come with a dance belt, but I figured it’s be better to have a vpl than underwear lines. I was half hard already, even if I had a dance belt it probably would have still looked awkward. The soft fabric of the tights brushed against my bare legs as I picked them up off the table and held them up by the suspenders. At least they’d feel sexy to wear, even if I wasn’t quite fit enough to fill them out very well.

Sitting down on the couch I slid my leg into the grey tights, wiggling my toes into the seam at the bottom of the foot. They tingled a bit as I pulled them up over my calves and thighs, the soft tight fabric rubbing against the hair on my legs. As I pulled them up over my crotch they held my balls tight against me and pinned my now full erection against my belly. So much for a dance belt! Pulling the suspenders over my shoulders, I was greeted by the surprising sensation of the back seam of the tights snuggling up in between my ass cheeks. I didn’t have much of a butt to speak of, but somehow the tights still held tight to what little I had.

The tights ended just below my chest, and though I definitely didn’t have the ballet dancer build I still enjoyed seeing and feeling the uniform texture of grey fabric from my abdomen to my feet. I ran my hands along my legs, feeling the weave of the tights thrum with every touch, and my cock straining against the fabric.

I pulled my mind away from the hypnotic sexy feel of the tights, a little upset at myself that I hadn’t tried dressing up like this earlier. But I still had the tunic to put on. I wasn’t sure if I should have put something under it, but the lining was surprisingly soft and breathable against my skin. I stood up, slid my arms into the sleeves, and began hooking the fasteners that went up the front. The waist wasn’t as snug as I had feared and the structure of the garment helped straighten my posture, encouraging me to stand a bit taller than the hunch my desk job had trained me into.

Hooking the last fastener under my chin I looked down and realising I had come to stand with my heels together and my toes turned out, in what I knew to be “1st position.” And as I dropped my arms they fell nicely open and rounded at my sides, allowing my chest to open up and my shoulders to rotate backwards in perfect ballet posture. I chuckled a bit to myself, maybe I picked up more from watching so much ballet than I thought.

I tried to imitate the movements I had seen ballet dancers do, not crazy leaps or turns or anything, just pointing the toe out, to the side, to the back. I knew from somewhere they were called “tendus.” I let my arms move out to the side and above my head in time with my feet. I bent into a deep plie, letting my gaze follow my outstretched hand as it traveled out, to the side, overhead, and then started to repeat the same combination on the other side. I probably looked ridiculous trying to imitate the precise movements I had only watched, but it felt wonderful to move in the outfit.

As I continued to try new things, ronde de jambe, fouetté, attitude; I couldn’t remember where I picked up all these names, the costume felt like it fit me better and better. With each breath in my chest filled out the tunic a little better and my arms and shoulders felt stronger and more sure in their positions. Letting a breath out, my abdomen felt more compact and stronger in the long waist of the tights, my core offering steadier and steadier support and balance to my movement.

I moved from attitudes to a combination centred around arabesques, standing strong on one leg while reaching up and out with my upper body and back with the other leg. I took a couple of steps forward and went into the first arabesque, feeling strength and stability pouring into my standing leg, the grey tights stretched against my thighs, hips, and butt as I raised my other leg further up and behind me. My legs felt stronger and stronger as I continued around the room, my tights more snug and supportive as they nestled into the contours of my legs and sunk further between my ass cheeks. To finished the combination I moved to fifth position and took a small plie to lift up onto the balls of my feet, sous sous. Lifting my arms strong and graceful above my head I felt every muscle, from my calves to my core to my triceps working together to keep me balanced and poised. Satisfied, I descended into a plie and rose back up to finish the combination.

I stood there for a moment, relaxing back in first position and then blinked, blinked again. I looked back over at the table where my beer stood abandoned. Outside the window the sky was almost dark, how long had I been dancing, and how had I known how to do all that stuff? Feeling a little out of control I started to undo the top clasp of my tunic when I caught a look at myself in the hall mirror.

I did a double take, it couldn’t be me. I looked down at myself and then back at my reflection firm pecs, toned abs, powerful thighs clad in grey. It was me and fuck I was built. I turned around to see my now glorious ass, each cheek hugged beautifully by my tights, and noticed the cleft that had appeared on my toned calves - visible even though I stood flat footed.

I couldn’t help but touch, partially to make sure it was all real and partially because I was my own wet dream. I ran my hands along my firm legs and my slender waist and started to undo the tunic to check out my upper body. My laser focus while dancing had killed my boner but as I undid the tunic’s clasps I felt myself start to get hard again. It felt different though, still pleasurable but a different kind of pleasure. Breathing heavy with arousal I looked back to the mirror. I could see myself growing, but it wasn’t just my cock’s outline straining against the spandex, it looked and felt like my balls were growing too, my whole crotch swelling up against its spandex prison. The more they grew, the more intense the pleasure became, but it didn’t exactly feel like an erection.

I it felt almost like a balloon blowing up - a balloon in my crotch filling with anticipation and pleasure. Looking down, I noticed that as my genitals kept growing they began to lose definition, probably due to how stretched out the fabric was getting. As my bulge strained against my tights, my breathing quickened and my crotch continued to get smoother and rounder. My pelvic pleasure balloon steadily expanded until I felt my whole body was surely going to explode with ecstasy and then suddenly— it stopped. Still breathing heavily and still quite aroused I saw, between my newly muscled legs, the perfect smooth round ballet bulge, maybe a little on the big side, but otherwise the most beautiful tights-clad bulge - exactly like I was wearing a dance belt under my tights.

But I wasn’t wearing a dance belt. Was I? Trepidatiously I reached down to stroke the fabric and was greeted by the most pleasurable sensation. It didn’t feel at all like I was touching a padded dance belt, it felt like I was touching my own skin. I continued to run my hand over my bulge, a little moan escaping my lips as I stroked it’s contours. It felt like touching the sensitive head of my cock, my whole crotch felt as sensitive as the most nerve-laden part of my dick.

Equally aroused and terrified I slipped off the tunic and the straps of my tights. As I began to undress I noticed the wiry patch of hair on my chest had disappeared, and as I slid the tights further down to my waist, saw for the first time my beautiful hairless toned core. I ran my hand along my abdomen, wanting to feel every new inch of my body and also afraid to slide my grey tights any further down. But I couldn’t put it off forever. I slid my tights off the toned globes of my ass, over the deep v of my hips and then, my breath hitching as the tights fabric slid away from my sensitive crotch, revealing my perfectly smooth and hairless crotch.

My crotch looked exactly the same as before the tights came off - a round bulge just like you would see on mannequin. I couldn’t help but touch myself again, the intense pleasure felt slightly different without the silky tights over my sensitive skin. I closed my eyes as I touched myself, it was a completely different sensation than stroking my cock. Instead of moving in fits and spurts of arousal towards the edge of orgasm, this felt like a continually building sensation, like that balloon expanding again - a pleasure that continued to grow and grow with no sign of impending release.

After thoroughly exploring this new sensation I decided to move to the bathroom to get a better look at myself. I pulled my tights back up to my waist, the feeling of their fabric moving over my crotch almost pulling me into another session of dickless masturbation, and padded to the bathroom.

I flicked the light on and, before I could pull my tights back down for inspection, was distracted by my own face. Maybe it was the glow of arousal but I could swear I looked invigorated, more lively. My eyes looked twinklier and my teeth looked brighter, whiter even. As I looked at my reflection, I noticed the stress induced strands of silver in my hair and the dark circles under my eyes start to fade. Before my very eyes my short cropped hair grew out into a perfectly coiffed hairstyle and my jawline softened slightly - the stubble on my chin fading away. I couldn’t help but smile at myself, a smile that would be perfect for stage lights. Stepping back from the mirror and looking at myself, inexplicably standing in first position again, I realised I had been given the perfect body for ballet, a body I could have only dreamed of.

Finally seeing my whole self, I decided the mystery of how it all came to be mine could wait until tomorrow. Tonight I would just enjoy it. I flicked off the bathroom light and retired to my bedroom. The mostly full beer bottle and the work clothes from my earlier self lay abandoned by the couch as I lay in bed, touching and discovering the pleasures of this new body until I fell asleep.

[aeipcthys]

╰ ❛   💉 — › brenda song. cis-female. she/her.  ╯ have  you  met  margot moore  yet  ?  this  twenty  nine  year  old  virgo  has  been  living  in the seattle  area  for  one month.  she  makes  a  living  as  executive assistant to the chief of surgery, which  is best suited for their observant,  loyal,  picky,  and judgmental personality. hold on by wilson phillips  is  one of  their  favorite  songs.

trigger warnings: mental health, mental illness, bipolar disorder, racism, microaggressions, gambling addiction mention, addiction mention

full character page here

BASIC INFORMATION

Full Name: margot moore

Nickname(s): moore

Age: 29

Date of Birth: august 23, 1992

Hometown: lake placid, florida

Current Location: seattle, washington

Ethnicity: hmong, thai

Nationality: american

Gender: cisgender female

Pronouns: she/her/hers

Orientation: she has only ever slept with men. that being said.......how y’all doing 

Status: technically in a relationship

Religion: christian

Political Affiliation: democratic socialist

Occupation: executive assistant to the chief of surgery

Living Arrangements: she wants a roommate so if someone breaks into her apartment she won’t be the only target 

Language(s) Spoken: english, hmong

Accent: american

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Face Claim: brenda song

Hair Color: brunette

Eye Color: dark brown

Height: 5'2

Weight: 113 lbs

Build: slim

Tattoos: anchor, writing on her finger, cross on her knuckle, writing on her wrist, bee on her wrist, cross on her side, symbol on her wrist

Piercings: ears, cartilage

Clothing Style: cute, fashionable kind of thing

Usual Expression: resting bitch face probably

Distinguishing Characteristics: laugh

HEALTH

Physical Ailments: none.

Neurological Conditions: has a form of bipolar affective disorder, doesn’t talk about it much, and is strict about her medications

Allergies: none. 

Sleeping Habits: sprawls out across her bed when she eventually passes out with the tv on

Eating Habits: vegetarian except when she’s not

Exercise Habits: she actually attends those soul cycle kind of classes, and is really into it, but she would definitely make fun of them to everyone else

Emotional Stability: 9.14

Sociability: chatty, definitely can be nice, often judgmental but with good intentions, will gossip with you

Body Temperature: runs cold yet often wears outfits she’ll definitely be cold in

Addictions: stupid dumb men

Drug Use: we’re not necessarily opposed, but not a regular thing

Alcohol Use: bottle of wine everyday when she gets home kinda thing

PERSONALITY

Label: tbd

Positive Traits: observant, loyal, analytical, hard-working, 

Negative Traits: picky, judgmental (with love), cynical, bossy

Fears: people in mascot costumes

Hobbies: being tupperware for other people’s messes (i stole this from an astrology site but legit her okay), girl can internet stalk the HELL out of someone for you if need be

Habits: eavesdropping on conversations, accidentally cutting people off when she has a better idea, zoning out when a whole lot of boring is coming at her

FAVOURITES

Weather: if it’s not humidity, she’s cool

Colour: shades of peach

Music: anything she can dance to in her apartment or every once and a while something at her desk that would make lachlan uncomfortable

Movies: no movies, movies are long 

Sport: uh

Beverage: wine

Food: too many things have been described as her favorite to keep track

Animal: no thanks

FAMILY

Father: cye moore

Mother: mai moore

Sibling(s): elias moore

Children: none.

Pet(s): n/a

Family’s Financial Status: middle class 

EXTRA

Zodiac Sign: virgo

MBTI: estj

Anything Else: 

BIO

Margot Moore grew up in Lake Placid, Florida...a very tiny place in the sunshine state. Lake Placid had a population of just about 2,000 people, and Margot felt the smallness of it all ever since she was young. 

Her parents, Cye and Mai, were good and loving parents to Margot and her brother, Elias. Both her parents were immigrants to the United States, so they were among the many who worked tirelessly to provide a good and stable life for their children. Her father worked his way up to being a branch manager at a manufacturing company, and her mother worked at a bank. All in all, her life could be described as pretty normal.

However, growing up in Lake Placid wasn’t always a walk in the park. Lake Placid was a largely white town, and because it was small, everybody knew everybody. Which meant people talked. You never wanted to be on the wrong side of that talk. As she got older, Margot started to see that she looked different from a lot of her classmates. Her classmates noticed it too. 

TW racism, microaggressions She began to experience racism and microaggressions at the hands of people who were her friends. A lot of it was unconscious, but there was a definite bias. Margot’s parents knew it too, but they didn’t want to rock the boat. They encouraged Margot to ignore it. To try and blend in as much as possible. So, that’s what Margot learned to do. She tried her best to just blend in with it all. She didn’t talk much about her family’s culture or traditions. She tried to make herself look more like her friends, even dying her hair blonde for a period of time to try and make herself into the ideal standard of beauty. 

TW mental illness, mental health, bipolar disorder During this time, Margot also began to struggle with other things. Her mood swings were unpredictable. She experienced racing thoughts and an inability to focus. She started sleeping less and making some risky decisions. At first, Margot didn’t want to get help. She didn’t see a need. But when she started to fall back into a depressive episode during her junior year of high school, her parents said enough was enough. Margot started going to regular therapy appointments and met with a number of psychologists. She was diagnosed with a milder form of bipolar affective disorder, and she has been on medications ever since. 

Margot has done extremely well keeping up with therapy and her medications. Therapy is the one thing she’ll never reschedule. Not even for work. Old habits die hard for Margot, though. It’s hard for her to talk about her mental illness because in her mind, this is just another thing that separates her from everyone else. And remember what her parents always said: assimilate. 

Margot went on to college, and she had a strong desire to get herself out of Lake Placid. She decided to study business at the advise of her dad at the University of Central Florida, but it wasn’t something she was exactly passionate about. It was a thing to do while she enjoyed her college years. She wasn’t bad at it, she just didn’t give as much effort as she probably should have. 

Out of college, Margot had little money of her own, but she was determined not to go back to Lake Placid to live with her parents. She started temping at an agency, and she would get moved around from business to business, mostly doing administrative work or bookkeeping. It wasn’t overly exciting, but it gave her some money to live off. Plus, Margot lived off of learning about each place she worked at...all of the office gossip and drama. 

Somewhere in her post-grad life, Margot met Holden. Holden was, in fact, an idiot who probably had a (TW gambling addiction, addiction) gambling problem that Margot funds. Margot and Holden just kind of ended up together. It wasn’t that they were madly in love. They just kind of...stuck. Margot was the one who pretty much kept them alive. She for some reason has a soft spot for the dumb ones...it was the only thing that kept her from kicking him to the curb through the years. Their relationship isn’t solid, or even necessarily exclusive...it just kind of exists. And no one understands it.

When she was about 24 years old, Margot started temping at a private practice in Florida. This is where she soon met Lachlan Covington and Andrea Martinez. Both the doctors worked at the private practice, and Margot started actually liking her job. Of course, it was a temp job, so she had to work her magic. Sure enough, she was eventually able to persuade Lachlan into taking her on as an assistant. 

Margot has been working for Lachlan ever since, and she’s built up a good friendship with Andrea. She was shocked when Andrea left for Seattle, and high key disappointed to see the couple split up. She always hoped they would be endgame. Margot stuck by Lachlan, but she often told him that he needed to get Andrea back. Because he did. Eventually, Margot watched Lachlan leave too. She initially had no intention of going with him, considering her life was all in Florida. However, after a few weeks him being gone, she realized how boring most of her other co-workers were. When he reached out to see if she’d come to Seattle, she said yes almost immediately. (She tried to be casual about it though). She assigned herself the title of executive assistant, just because she thought it sounded more important with the word executive in it.

Margot didn’t exactly break up with Holden before she left, and by the sounds of his texts, he may still think they’re still together. She’s just kind of letting that be for the time being. After all, they’ve been together for so long. 

Margot is liking Seattle, but she hates living alone and is still trying to get her own lay of the land. She likes to have resources...people she can go to when she needs something, people she can squeeze information out of, the good restaurants she can order from and charge to the hospital credit card when Lachlan’s inevitably working late and she stays in solidarity...that kind of thing. 

PLOTS

y’all know me open to anything

probably looking for: roommate!!! folks she always goes to for info, people to gossip with, a friend she often grabs lunch with, that one doctor she hates and always tells them that lachlan is in a meeting when really he’s completely free 

[artsninspo]

PULSE: Part I - Mr. Asshole

Authors Note:

Reader is living in a new city; feels out of touch. I decided to go for the not so nice-guy Trevante. Because I thought it would be fun.

This is a slowburn.

Enjoy 😉

PART I | PART II | PART III

______

The ambiance of the club is not exactly what she expected, still she crosses her legs swaying with the music and enjoying the songs from childhood. Songs mama used to play at bedtime, Neo-soul from the beginning of the millennium would always be the best kind in her mind. Here, nothing about it seemed dated to her, everyone here seemed fully alive, engaged and completely into it. Elle takes out her phone recording some of the performance to send a snipped to her mother who’d enjoy this but never come - especially not now. The song ends signalling the start of an intermission.

“So what do you think so far?” Kizzy asks.

Elle shrugs, “I don’t know, its kind of amazing” she reasons still not completely sure what to make of the intimate event.

“Your kind of boring?” Kiz teases making Elle laugh. They’d been close as small children, that changed when Kiz moved away to live with her father.

“I’m telling you Elle this is half the gig and you’re smoking so, it’ll be even easier” Kiz winks sipping her pornstar martini. Theres not much else to say so Elle sips on her Armaretto Sour. The band returns to the stage free styling while people remove all the chairs creating an open dance floor. People flock there immediately. Elle gets out of the way finding a corner to observe the festivities from in amusement. She smiled watching all the folks getting down unapologetically while enjoying the live music. Half an hour passes before Elles phone vibrates signalling its time to get back to her apartment.

“You’re leaving?” Kizzy asks over the music standing in confusion as Elle heads to the door.

“Yeah!” Elle nods tapping her watch to signal that its late. “It’s epic, thanks for inviting me” Elle smiles giving her cousin a tight squeeze.

“Call me when you get in!” Kiz shouts over the music.

Outside, he street is that special gold-ish orange thats created by the amber streetlights during witching hour. Elle walks through the sleeping city heading up to her new apartment when she bumps into girls on their way out looking disheveled. She pivots letting them pass recalling it to be the third time she’d seen women leaving in a state of disarray. Elle offers the women a smile as she turns to head back up the stairs.

“You forgot your shit” A deep voice says making Elle to turn but the two girls beat her to it smiling at a coffee-coloured man in the dimly lit entrance way. He’s shirtless and built like an adonis, his head is covered by a du-rag.

“Thanks” One of the women beams before Elle can make out his facial features. The man nods without reciprocating the woman’s interest before shooting Elle a look that says mind your business. Elle shallows turning to continue up the stairs. 

Asshole. 

A huge package stands outside her door. Probably an extra large and extra large piece of furniture ordered online. The asshole man stops on her floor walking to the apartment across from Elle’s on the east side, completely ignoring the huge package.

 So much for chivalry.

Theres no use in even attempting to haul the box in; so she doesn’t. A sigh or relief leaves her as she removes her pumps tossing them into the shoe closet. The city’s glow radiates through the apartments sheer curtains, the AC blowing through the vents making her feel less alone in the new space. She turns looking around at her scantily furnished apartment. The couch is comfortable enough for her to plop onto while I she calls Kizzy.

“Home?”

“Yeah, how about you?” Elle asks.

“Avec un homme” Kiz says lowly making Elle laugh. “Don’t worry I’ll see if he has some fine friends to give you a change from those white boys ya mama says you be dating”

“I think a pimp or a playboy lives across the hall. More disheveled women” Elle laughs.

“Take a number”

“Kiz, you’re drunk” Elle gags at the idea. 

Nope.

“I’m not much different sober” she laughs and I hear a man in the background. “Love you, bye” she says hanging up just like that.

Elle shakes her head, tucking her knees to her chest and looking outside at all the buildings before an incessant knocking starts. She stands tip-toeing stealthily to her peephole. Nothing is in her line of sight but the knocking continues.

“Aye! Aye B!” A man shouts continuing the banging. “Aye, aye, aye man please!” He continues banging. A thud stops the knocking instantly, groans follow and Elle watches as a man tumbles down the stairs.

“Don’t come back around here with that shit, get on!” Another man shouts. Elle realizes its asshole from earlier when she seed him throw something down the stairs. Thats enough excitement for one night.

…

Elle sighed for the fifth time looking up at the oversized box; everyone she could think of in this city was too preoccupied to help. Shed even tried to move it herself but reconsidered quickly after having to put her entire body into it. It was an awkward size, too long for her wingspan and too tall. Not to mention it was hot as hell. Moving had taken everything out of her. She jogs downstairs to the laundry room to put in another load. First impressions were everything and she’d be meeting with new clients. New job, new city, new way of doing things. Kizzy had laughed at all of her business casual telling her to throw them away or aspire to wear them to executive meetings. Otherwise they wouldn’t be needed, this city bustled culture and unapologetic culture. There was no need to submit to a ‘greater authority’ or be ‘professional’ to mitigate being misunderstood. Honestly, Elle didn’t know what to make of all the blackness. Somehow it managed to feel like a culture shock. The door opens and señor asshole walks in like he owns the place. Elles eyes take inventory of him while folding her clothes. Tall, dark, handsome and aware of his good looks. In addition to having beautifully defined arms. 

“This your shit” he asked back to her looking into a washer machine. Elle pretends not to hear, returning to reading on her phone. “Hey” he taps on the table. “Is that your shit in my washer?” He asks taking a step back. Elle looks him over completely dumbfounded. Men never addressed her with so little respect or consideration.

“Your washer?” She asks looking into his dark eyes and he raises his eyebrows.

“Thats what I said” he says in the same flat tone with an unamused expression.

“The others are full and there was no sign” she justifies and asshole shakes his head out of annoyance. He heads to another washer machine taking the contents out and throwing them in an empty hamper before emptying his bag of clothes into it.

“Now you know” he comments.

“Its a miracle I’m not being assaulted and thrown out” Elle comments sarcastically. Regret follows the moment he glares at her but she doesn’t show it. Instead she swallows looking back at her phone.

“I got homegirls for that” he retorts making her eyes bulge. 

What the hell?

A smirk plays on his lips; its barely noticeable as he nods in response to Elles expression. You heard me right is what his face says.

“I press changes” Elle defends and this time he full out smiles out of amusement revealing a set of straight pearly whites. If he wasn’t such an asshole he could model for sure.

“I got bail money” he chuckles setting the washer to his preferences. Elle continues folding feeling vulnerable and stupid.

“Aye Princess, don’t talk to anyone else like that. ‘round here it’ll get you popped in the mouth. Cops take their time.” He says leaving with the same hostile arrogance he walked in with.

Sheesh.

[hadestownmodern]

A Cosmic Suggestion

Here’s me being the literal only bee man stan. More Orphydice to come later. 

(Danielle)

----------

Demeter doesn’t just wake up wishing for a baby.

              No, she thinks; that would be crazy.

              Only, she does wake up wishing for a baby-her baby, with her big, dark eyes and her dimpled smile, the presence she felt so vividly in a dream escaping her hold as soon as she regains her presence in the physical world. She rolls over in bed feeling empty-lost-as if a piece of her soul had come and gone all in one night. Demeter rises from bed wearily, recognizing the weight on her chest as a hole she can not fill. She’d known the infant in the dream she’d had, felt her presence as an extension of her own being. She’d never felt this before-not in any dream, not from any iteration of the present or future. This is something entirely new, slightly frightening.

              She begins her morning the same way as usual; putting the kettle on the stove, walking out into the fresh air to gather eggs for the chickens. Then she gathers up her canvas bags, slips on her well-worn sandals, and makes her weekly trek down to the farmers market. She had thought by now that the same sort of monotony she’d had in the city would catch up to her. Following a routine here is much different than the city; she still wields the powerful freedom that comes with being tied only to the sun’s position in the sky and the length of the labor that tending her plants or working on a new knit or stitch will take. Today, she brings a host of small gifts; a pair of potholders in exchange for some flour, a patched up pair of overalls for a small harvest of zucchini. She prefers life this way, in which she can work her own land, where the community works together to raise each other in unity.

              She attempts to make her rounds in some semblance of an order, one tent at a time, but the sensation of prickling anxiety settles in the space behind her heart, pulls her toward the stand with painted honeybees. She stands bemused, one hand on her hip, as she watches Theo. His back is turned toward the crowd and he’s bent down low, rifling trough his wheeled cart. She brings her attention to his wares; bottles of the sweet nectar in varying colors, hand-drawn labels boasting flavor infusions and uses. There’s lavender for sleep and tea, a light honey for sweetness, juniper for its medicinal properties. When he turns around he gives a slight jump at the sight of her, grinning immediately and coming around his booth to hug her tight. Where she’s only slightly taller than average he still has a good deal of height on her, and her lithe body nearly disappears in his embrace.

              “I was wondering where you were,” he teases, leaning one arm on his self-made booth. “Didn’t think you’d show up today.”

              “I got caught up finishing a project, almost lost track of time.”

              “Well, I’m glad you’re here.” She smiles, Theo standing straight and moving back behind his booth to help an older man with three bottles in his hand. She takes up her place atop his wheeled cart, sitting cross-legged and tossing her bags to the grass, letting the sun sink into her skin. There is a sudden glow about her not just brought by the weather, a glow that settles where her anxiety had once sat. Now it is only a pull, a longing. She closes her eyes, puts her hand over the space the new feeling rests and takes a breath. Demeter sends her energy down to the spot behind her heart, pictures the glowing, attempts to capture the feeling and label it. In the noise of the market she can hear soft vocals with plucking folk guitar, children laughing and running and Theo’s charismatic smile as he jests with the older man, a loyal customer.

              It’s him.

              She’s consumed with the hole in her chest from the morning, from the sudden longing for a child to raise on her farm, for the solitary motherhood she knows she’s meant to have. Demeter sits in this feeling for a while; the emptiness, the yearning, the new truth of her future. Then, she’s interrupted. Theo’s hand is on her shoulder, resting there.

              “Anxious?” He asks, and when she opens her eyes he’s gesturing to her hand over her heart, taking her physical cues to guess her ailment. The moment she meets his eyes, the pieces of her own mind connect. It’s him. He’s the answer.

              She’s taken back by her own thoughts at first, staring at her friend with an undeniable curiosity. It surprises her, not because he seems unworthy but because he seems the most worthy of all; Theo is kind, charismatic. His soul is gentle, soft. She wonders if-when-she takes her cosmic suggestion, he will be willing to help her. It’s a strange request to ask of anyone, let alone a new yet very good friend. She’d only met him two weeks ago, had only seen him both Saturdays and one weekday between. They’d become close in that time, close enough for a comfort to be found in these long days at the farmers’ market, where she’d sit on the grass and keep him company while he charmed the crowd into buying his stock.

              “Well, your grandfather was right about you being a good salesman.”

              “I think it’s just about being honest-people want to know what we do and I’m here to give them the truth. We’ve been at this for years now, we know how to treat them humanely and not overharvest. And they’re always welcome to the apiary if they want-that always gets people nervous. Nobody wants to be around the bees but they all want to pretend they know how to take care of them.”

              “Well, I think you’re doing a great job.” The crowd has slowed down a bit, just enough for Theo to stop and sit beside her and take half of the sandwich she’d gotten from a neighboring booth. He reaches over and touches his half to hers, saying cheers before digging in.

              They watch the bustle of the momentarily thinned-out crowd, most booth owners pausing for lunch just as they are. Theo leans back on one arm, kicking his long legs out in front of him. He’s in his typical dress-khaki colored cargo shorts, a Henley, and Birkenstocks. He wears a little honeybee button on his shirt, only a slight contrast to the mustard yellow he’d chosen to wear. Demeter watches him intently, attempts to gauge his mood and predict his reaction.

              As always, Theo is calm; a patch of sunshine manifesting in a tall, well-built body and a goofy sort of smile. He takes the day in stride, gets up to help another customer and ends up chatting with them for a long while, asking about her family and the kids she hadn’t brought to the market that day. Even as a newcomer he knows these details, knows the people who have become Demeter’s community. She’s struck by the brightness with which he maneuvers conversation, how he’s able to strike up conversation with seemingly anyone that walks by his booth. In the moments where it’s just them, he shares stories of growing up at the apiary.

              “My grandfather seems like he’d be really stern-mean. He likes to put up this front that nobody believes because in reality, he’s the nicest man you’ll ever meet. My mom was a stay-at-home mom all my life, and my dad worked with my grandfather. He’s the son-in-law; my grandfather never had any actual sons. But my dad took over where nobody else would. He wanted to help. I always admired that about him. Besides, I love being at the farm. What about you?”

              Demeter lets her curls fall over her shoulders, shrugs and turns her cheek against the sun to look back at him. She’s neither upset or enthused, simply relaying the facts of her story, the way she’d gotten to where she is.

              “I grew up in the city. My father left us when I was old enough to feel the sting of it, my mother worked and became obsessed with things. It was always about what she could buy, never about when she could be with me. My nana owned this beautiful, tiny little farmhouse I used to be able to visit once a week for a sleepover, when my mom would work overnights and get sick of having me around. I helped her with all the chores. It was my favorite time of the week-I looked forward to it more than anything else. She was a tiny woman, got more of my dad’s genes than my mom’s. I was taller than her by a head or two, but she still called me her little one. She used to let me eat her tomatoes right off the stem, full bite like an apple.” She laughs at the memory, freckle-dappled skin glowing gold against the warmth of the day. “I moved out here right when I graduated high school, right when she started getting sick. I took care of her until her last day. She left that beautiful little house to me, and now I’m watching it like she watched me.”

              Theo nods attentively, puts one hand over hers on the grass.

              “Well, for what it’s worth I think your nana knows that her house is in good hands.”  He smiles, boundless optimism showing as he holds a jar of golden honey to the sun, opens it and sticks a wooden spoon inside. In one swift movement he’s eaten it, offered her the jar to do the same. She dips in, bumps her stick against his and feels the soothing texture coat her throat.

              “Hey Theo?” The anxiety settles at the base of her heart when he turns to look at her, and suddenly things aren’t as clear as they had been when she’d woken up. The reality between what she believes in her soul dances threateningly along societal norms, a friendship she does not want to break. And when he hums, holds out the honey for her to dip her spoon again, she feels herself walk right to that precipice. “Can I show you my nana’s house?”

[supercasey]

“You know it would never go in our favor, right hun? That you ‘n Skout ain’t gonna stand a chance ‘gainst El Rey?”

“... I know.”

NoN Twins AU: Separation (Story Below Cut)

It’s late October; the trees outside are shedding their leaves, and despite the omnipotence of magic in their little briar, Annabeth can’t help but worry that the leaves might not grow back this time. Shaking the thought away, she looks to her two children, the three year old twins playing together in the wooden playpen their father built. Speaking of which... Anna looks up just in time to see Benjamin enter the room, the wizard immediately taking a seat at the table with her. Together, they watch the twins for a few minutes, enjoying the momentary calm while they can. After all, even with one twin being mute, the two toddlers are still quite rambunctious.

“Hunny, ‘ook!” As if demonstrating this, Skout picks up a stray Critter, shaking the tiny rock like a rattle. “Hee hee hee! ‘Ook at ‘em wiggle!”

“Skout, sweetie, please put him down. Critters don’t like to be shook.” Anna explains, though she refrains from raising her voice. After all, the kid is only three, so it’s not like she knows better.

Skout pouts but obliges, setting the rock Critter down. The poor thing sways and walks like a drunk man, much to Skout’s amusement. Even Hunter moves his shoulders in an obvious laugh, eyes crinkled at the corners to show his happiness. Smiling, Anna looks to Benjamin to see his reaction, only for her grin to dissipate at a moment’s notice. Instead of chuckling at the antics of his beloved children, Benjamin has the most concerned, fearful look on his face, tears trailing down his face. Once he notices Anna looking his way, he tries wiping the evidence away, but it’s no use.

“Ben? What’s wrong, hun?” Annabeth keeps her voice down when she speaks, as to not draw too much attention from her children. Not that it matters, as they’re too busy toying with their dolls to notice the mood shift.

“Nothin’, babe,” Benjamin assures, using his poncho to clean off his face. Upon earning an unimpressed look, the wizard gives a weak chuckle, shaking his head. “Aw, there ain’t gettin’ nothin’ past you, angel... suppose I’m just concerned for ‘em, that’s all.”

“Concerned? Concerned how?” Annabeth has a feeling she knows the answer already, but considering how secretive her husband can be, she figures asking for clarification is better than assuming the worst.

“Well... honey, Hunter’s already showin’ signs ‘a magic. Jus’ last week we caught ‘im bringin’ his bottle to life! But Skout... she ain’t showin’ the same signs, babe. I’m startin’ to think dat... she might not have The Gift. She’s still plenty smart- that much is obvious- but we can’t be certain dat she’s magic.” Benjamin is very careful with his wording, not wishing to make it sound like his daughter is weak or anything of that nature.

“Magic ain’t everythin’,” Anna points out. Her husband might have grown up reliant on his abilities, but Anna knows that such things are a rare gift, and can’t be guaranteed. Not even through blood. “‘Sides, maybe she’s a late bloomer?” Still, she wouldn’t exactly mind if Skout had powers... magic seems a hell of a lot more fun than Benjamin makes it out to be.

“She might be... but what if she ain’t? You know, I never wanted to talk ‘bout it much, but... magic attracts magic. Enough of it in one place, and El Rey... he might catch the scent, ‘spite my best efforts,” Benjamin looks deeply into Annabeth’s eyes, not even fighting it as tears trail down his face. “Normal weapons won’t work ‘gainst a man like him; only magic stands a chance. Dat means... dat means you ‘n Skout ‘re vulnerable to ‘im. If he managed ta find us ‘n tried to come after me ‘n Hunter, you two could get hurt.”

“Benny... what ‘re you sayin’?” Anna begins crying prematurely, more than capable of connecting the dots, but again, she can’t afford to assume anything when it comes to her husband.

Benjamin offers her the weakest of smiles, trying to comfort her, but it doesn’t work at all. “... Got the feelin’ you already know, baby.”

Annabeth breathes- in and out, in and out- before bowing her head, sobbing as reality hits her like a freight train. Thankfully the twins don’t hear it, as they’re fast asleep, tuckered out by their playing and curled up together on the play mat. Benjamin stands up, circling around the table. He stops in front of Anna, merely holding out his arms to the woman. Anna practically tackles him in a desperate hug, sobbing even harder at the thought that this might be their last embrace. Benjamin nods his head to nothing, rubbing his wife’s back as he mutters under his breath in a different language.

“I know, I know,” Benjamin says in common this time, ditching the use of his native tongue. “It’s gonna be alright, dear. I’ll pack ya ‘nough money ‘n gear ta last ya a lifetime... you’ll be alright.”

“Not without you I won’t,” Anna mutters in a matter-of-fact tone, eyes downcast and still streaming out tears. “I can’t lose you, Benny... you’re the best worst thing that’s ever happened to me. If it weren’t fer you, I’d still be livin’ with my folks, or worse, I coulda been married off... I don’t wanna be alone out there.”

“You won’t be alone; you’ll have Skout,” Benjamin offers, but it doesn’t do much to comfort her. There’s a long, pregnant pause, before the wizard tries again, this time going for a bit of questionable reasoning. He hates to scare her- scaring his loved ones is one of Benjamin’s worst fears- but he’ll resort to it if he has no other choice. “You know it would never go in our favor, right hun? That you ‘n Skout ain’t gonna stand a chance ‘gainst El Rey?”

“... I know.” Annabeth admits, forcing herself to wipe away her tears. “So... when should I leave with ‘er?”

“We’ve got some time. Could wait a whole ‘nother year, but not much longer than that,” Benjamin explains, the grief in his tone heartbroken, yet determined. “After all, we’re gonna want the twins separated ‘fore they’re old ‘nough to remember anything... can’t have one ‘a them gettin’ themselves killed lookin’ fer the other.”

“They’re gonna grow up feeling like a piece ‘a them’s missin’,” Annabeth points out, feeling her heart grow heavy at the sight of the twins still cuddled up together, their arms wrapped around each other’s torsos. “You really think we should be doin’ this? Could always jus’... stay on the run. Can’t track us if we ain’t keepin’ still.”

“That ain’t no life fer our kids, honey,” Benjamin shakes his head, not seeing any other options. “‘Sides, if we’re on the move, we’re bound to get noticed, and that’s a surefire way ta get killed... you ‘n Skout don’t look nothin’ like me, so yer able to have a life outside of this; me ‘n Hunter don’t got that luxury,” Again, he hugs Anna to his chest, petting her hair as he sways a little in place, as if he wants to dance with her one last time, but can’t bring himself to go through with it. “Like I said, you ain’t gotta go jus’ yet... still got a few months left, maybe even a year, but the sooner yer out, the safer yer gonna end up bein’.”

“And if Skout starts havin’ powers? What then? I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout teachin’ her magic, much less how ta suppress it!” Annabeth can’t help but worry; she’s still half convinced that her daughter might just be a late bloomer.

“If she starts showin’, come on back home. It’s gonna be hard as shit, but we’ll figure it out.” Benjamin assures, unable to hide a small smile at the thought. Deep down, he almost hopes that’s the case. After all, it’s not like he wants his daughter to be taken away.

“Shit.”

The couple look to the crib, finding that Skout’s woken up, the redheaded toddler standing up in the playpen, giving her parents an adoring grin. “Shit!” She repeats, amused by the word.

“Now, come on, baby girl,” Benjamin scolds lightly, walking over and scooping the little girl up. He playfully ruffles her hair, grinning at his young daughter. “We don’t say that word, alright? Can’t have you as foul mouthed as yer daddy!” The wizard pauses, sharing a glance with Annabeth. “So, um... we’ll talk ‘bout this some more later, alright? Don’t gotta worry ‘bout it too much right now.”

“Yeah, we can... do that,” Anna agrees, already dreading the conversation. She wishes Benjamin had never even brought this up with her, but she knows it couldn’t be helped. Catching sight of Hunter yawning awake, she quickly scoops the boy up, to which Hunter begins to wiggle and huff. “Aw, ‘nough ‘a that, squirt,” The mother teases, amused by her son’s behavior. “You fussy right now? You even fussier after yer nap?”

Hunter scowls- at least, he scowls as much as he can- patting his mouth with his palm. “Oh, yer hungry? That it, son?” Benjamin asks, recognizing the nonverbal request.

Hunter claps excitedly in a definite ‘yes’, which causes one of the dolls in the playpen to come alive. Before anyone can stop it, the doll climbs out of the playpen and leaps to the ground, running off to God knows where. Annabeth bursts out laughing at the sight, while Benjamin panics. “Oh, goddammit!” He mutters, handing Skout to Anna. “Hold on, I’ll git ‘em!” He assures, taking off after the toy. “Come back ‘ere, ya little varmint!” The wizard orders, although he goes ignored by the newly born Critter.

Anna shakes her head, giving her son a small smirk. “’Spite not sayin’ much, you sure do know how ta cause trouble,” She observes, before making for the kitchen. “You kids wanna help Mama make dinner? Got a feelin’ Daddy’s gonna be-” She’s interrupted by a loud ‘boom’, as if something exploded. “... busy.”

Benjamin comes back a few minutes later, holding up the doll Critter by one of it’s legs. “Um... got ‘em?” He offers his wife a sheepish grin, clearly having broken something. “Don’t go outside... at least fer a few hours.”

Annabeth sighs, again shaking her head at her husband’s antics. “Whatever’s broken better be fixed by sundown, or you ‘n me ‘re gonna have a problem, mister. I do not wanna have ta replant our garden... again.”

Skout and Hunter just giggle at this, amused that their father is in trouble for once. Secretly, both Benjamin and Anna are comforted by their children’s laughter, just glad that their kids aren’t aware of how dangerous their living situation really is, and this just proves it; magic is loud and sometimes dysfunctional, even for experienced users, and it’s for this reason that non-magic users are in so much danger around those with ‘The Gift’... it’s just not safe. Come a few weeks, and Annabeth will leave, taking Skout with her in order to keep at least one of her children safe. But for now, she and Benjamin can pretend that everything is fine, and that nothing will ever take their kids away... not even themselves.

A/N: Somewhat of a spontaneous fic (wrote it all today) but I’ve had this drawing done on my laptop for almost three months, and I only just now got around to writing a short fic for it. Kinda really liked doing this tbh, so I might do something like this again in the future (possibly a part 2 to this fic in particular, or the “Hunter meets El Rey” scenario I keep wanting to write)! Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it enough to reblog/comment!

[wesawbears]

This is my @gotsecretsanta gift for @motherofkittens94. I know it’s early, but I was just excited about getting it done, and this way I have time to write the little sequels I have before the holidays. I wanted to blend your prompts of “Queen in the North Sansa” and “Happy ending Theon” with some Theonsa healing fic. I hope you like it!!! I had a lot of fun writing it. 

Make sure to follow the read more.

--

It’s raining the day Sansa is coronated. The rain makes for the kind of cold that seeps into her bones, but she was born from the cold, in more ways than one, so she does not flinch.

The crown tangles in her hair and she vaguely remembers hearing how the Iron Throne was built to be uncomfortable, in order to keep its rulers comfortable. This is not the Iron Throne, thank the Gods, but she imagines the sentiment remains the same. Idly, she wonders if Robb felt the same when they crowned him King in the North.

When the shouts of “Queen in the North” start and they kneel before her, she wills herself not to feel like it’s a death knell.

The daily running of the castle is tedious, but she finds she’s good at it. Her time in King’s Landing and with Littlefinger did afford her some practical skills and while she’s never been skilled at sums, she knows people.

The main concern after the war is rebuilding their stores of food and supplying it to the common folk, as well as redistributing lands where whole families were destroyed. Thankfully, there are many who fought valiantly in the Battle for King’s Landing and the Great War, so repopulating is going as smoothly as it can. There is the natural amount of grumbling from some of the old Northern families about Southerners invading, but with the state of the realm being what it is, they know they can’t afford to be picky. All things considered, things seemed to be going almost too well.

Sansa shouldn’t have been surprised, then, when a raven comes from Jon announcing his intention to visit and “check in on the reconstruction effort.”

When he arrives from King’s Landing a few weeks later, he at least has the respect for her to not beat around the bush. “You need to be married,” he tells her, not unkindly, but she freezes nonetheless.

“Why?” she asks, forcing steel into her voice.

He looks around and says, “You know how the North is. The world is changing, but not that much.”

“You’re saying they won’t respect me without a husband.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

She purses her lips, biting back the worry and frustration she feels. She is Queen and cannot afford to show weakness. “Do I at least have a say in who is to be my husband?”

“Of course,” Jon says, looking as though he’d like to get this over with as quickly as possible. “I gather there are few men who would refuse a queen.”

She thinks through her possible options, of who is left after the war. She supposes Lord Tyrion was kind, but as Queen Daenerys’ hand, the marriage would be too difficult logistically. There are a number of Northern lords who would make viable options, though, knowing Northern ways, all she can think of is Ramsay and a lump forms in her throat. Then, an idea comes to her unbidden.

“Theon,” she answers.

Jon looks at her strangely. “Sansa, don’t joke.”

“I’m not joking. You asked me to choose and I made a choice.”

“Sansa...if he marries you, he’ll be lord consort of Winterfell. The very idea of it would send people into open revolt.”

“I trust him. And you’ve seen him. He isn’t looking for any crowns. He abdicated to Yara.”

Jon scrubs a hand over his face. “His sister could still be whispering in his ear, though.”

“If we’re going to move forward, we have to trust each other. The mistrust between us and Pyke only increases the chance of an attack.”

As a last effort, Jon says, “And what of heirs?”

There was a time when it would have made Sansa pause, a time when all she wanted in the world was children. Now, she thinks she would just be happy to have someone she knew would not hurt her. She straightens her spine and says, “We’ll deal with that when we must.”

He seems to come to the realization that Sansa will not be moved on the subject, because he sighs and says, “Fine. Send a raven to Pyke. If he agrees, we’ll move forward from there.”

--

The raven arrives a week later and Yara reads it, perplexed. She seems to stare at it for hours before she hears, “What is it?” from behind her.

She turns and holds the letter out to Theon. “Read it yourself. It’s for you, I suppose.”

She watches his face change, close to the face he made in the brothel all those months ago, as though he was swallowing ale without wanting to.

“She can’t be serious.”

Yara shrugs. “She doesn’t strike me as the type to joke.”

He shakes his head and looks down at the letter once more, as though he expects it to burst into flames at any moment. “I- do you think I should go?”

Yara stands. “Of course I want you here.” He nods, but she continues. “But I also know you’re not happy here. Not really.” When he doesn’t answer, she tries again. “The way I see it, you’re getting handed a pretty girl and the lap of luxury, like you’ve always wanted. Are you really going to turn that down?”

“I don’t know,” he says and she makes a frustrated grunt. “Well, if you say no, you have to be the one to write and tell her so.”

He looks at the letter one last time and traces over it. “I’m not saying no,” he answers at last.

“Good,” she says, turning on her heel and leaving him to his thoughts.

--

Things move quickly after that and he arrives at Winterfell three weeks after she receives the raven with his answer. She doesn’t go to greet him, but watches from behind one of the walls. He looks better than he did the last time she saw him, less thin, but no less serious. She wonders how long it’s been since he really smiled.

She can’t quite bring herself to speak to him before the wedding, instead throwing herself into the work that needs to be done for the preparations. The night of their wedding arrives and it almost catches her by surprise. Jon arrives at her room to escort her to the Godswood and finds her staring firmly at the folds of her dress.

“Are you ready?” he asks and she blinks up at him, thrown out of her reverie. She takes his arm and tells herself this is nothing like the last time.

Her hair falls loosely onto her shoulders and it doesn’t snow.

She sees him by the heart tree in his house colors and though he doesn’t look quite like the Theon she remembers from her childhood, he looks better than he had that night and it eases her fears. In the lantern light, she finds, he actually looks quite handsome, and her face warms.

Jon gives her away and she takes his arm and they both ignore the way the other is shaking.

--

The feast is a bit of a disaster. The Northerners are known for being rowdy, as are the Greyjoys. Arya and her band don’t help the situation any either.

Her and Theon don’t say much to each other from their seats at the head table, but it isn’t necessarily uncomfortable. Theon seems to startle a bit when he sees Ghost by Jon’s side, so Sansa breaks the silence.

“He won’t hurt you. He listens to Jon.”

Theon nods, but still looks a bit spooked, so she continues with, “You look well, my Lord.”

He looks over at her. “As-as do you, my Lady.” He takes a long drink of his wine and she doesn’t push it for the moment.

She waits until the drinking and dancing is truly out of hand to excuse herself, saying she wants to go to the Godswood to pay respects before her wedding night. Theon was distracted speaking to Yara anyway.

She walks out, letting herself feel the chill surround her. She’s barely been in front of the heart tree for two minutes when she registers Jon sitting on the bench next to her. They sit in silence for a bit before she says, “It feels like they’re here with us. When I’m out here.”

Jon nods in understanding. “It’s one thing I miss about Winterfell.”

She picks at the hem of her dress. “I always imagined my wedding so differently.”

“I’m sorry.” When she doesn’t answer, he continues, “They would want you to be happy.”

“I’m trying.”

“Are you sure this was the right decision? For you, not for Winterfell.”

“It was,” she says, dusting her dress off as more of a habit than it truly needing it. “For all his faults, he knew what would happen if Ramsay caught us when we escaped. He put himself in danger for me. And then when I heard how he rescued his sister and fought in King’s Landing…” she sighs. “When you’re a woman in this world, there are worse things than marrying a man who’s kind and brave and devoted to you.”

“I hope you’re right.”

With that, they head back inside. Theon looks grateful for her return, as he was in the middle of being goaded into a drinking contest with some other Ironborn. She decides to save him by saying, “I’ve grown tired. I would like my husband to escort me to bed.”

She looks at him imploringly and he stands, taking her arm. They head into the hallway and both of them breathe a sigh of relief. “I don’t like the crowds either,” she says.

He cracks a small smile in thanks and notes, “You used to love all the feasts.”

Her mouth presses into a line. “My time in King’s Landing rid me of that, I’m afraid. I just want to live in peace.”

“That’s what I want as well.”

She gives him a soft smile. “We’re not so different then, I suppose.”

He nods. “I suppose not.”

They walk the length of the hallway to her room and he waits outside the door and she lingers, trying to decide whether to invite him in or not. Before she can decide, he says, “Sleep well, my lady.”

“And you, my Lord.”

She sleeps absurdly soundly that night.

--

In the weeks that follow, very little changes around Winterfell. Sansa remains preoccupied with the running of the castle and Theon mostly keeps to himself, which she both minds and doesn’t mind. The solitude is nice, but if she did have to be married, she had anticipated some level of companionship. He usually takes his food in his room, leaving her at the table alone, but she has her work to keep her occupied.

She generally retires to her room late into the night, though she always lingers a moment at his door, trying to gather enough courage to knock. This night, like all those other nights before, she sighs and passes by, to her room, where she’ll lie awake and try to keep the nightmares at bay. As the Queen and Lady of Winterfell, she’s expected to sleep in the master bedroom, but knowing that she’s sleeping in what was her parent’s room makes her feel like a child playing at something much bigger than her.

After a few hours of restless sleep, she decides to take a walk around the castle, hoping it will clear her head. She makes her way to the walk outside, shivering in only her nightgown and a shawl. She doesn’t turn back for something heavier though because the cold is part of her.

She comes to a stop when she sees a figure standing at the end of the walk. “Theon?” she calls out, wrapping her shawl tighter around herself.

He startles, but catches himself. “My lady? What are you doing out here?”

She walks over to him. “I couldn’t sleep.”

He nods. “I can leave you to your thoughts, then.”

“No,” she says, and he looks at her as she pleads, “Stay. Please.”

He settles himself back against the ledge, facing her. “As you wish, my lady.”

She doesn’t know why, but hearing him defer to her so easily makes the same anger she felt watching him deny his name flare up inside her.

“You know, you’re not a servant. You don’t have to hide.”

He looks up at her, surprised. “Just trying to stay out of the way.”

She looks over the edge, down at where she remembered Theon, Robb and Jon train, where Arya and Bran and Rickon chased each other around. “I want to make it feel like home again. Instead of just something he tainted.”

Hesitantly, he hovers his hand over hers, only placing it on top of hers when she nods. “Your aren’t tainted, Sansa.” He swallows. “You are- good. You’re kind to people, even when people are unkind to you.”

“You were kind to me.”

He looks away. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“You’re right. I don’t. All I meant was- If I’m not tainted, you aren’t either. I’d rather get to know who you are now than judge who you were.”

He’s silent for a long moment, but his grip tightens on her hand. She flips it over so that their palms touch and it’s the warmest she’s felt in a long time.

[villa-kulla]

so I saw Avengers Endgame last night, and honestly.....

I actually frickin’ LOVED it haha, I haven’t genuinely enjoyed one of the Avengers ensemble movies that much since the first one. Granted I’m still very sleep-deprived and on a slightly giddy high from how much it exceeded my expectations haha, and once I’ve thought more about it I’m sure I’ll find things to nitpick. But for the time being, I’m still pretty much swooning.

FULL INCOHERENT THOUGHTS/REACTIONS TO SPECIFIC THINGS BELOW THE CUT, AND OFC, ***SPOILERS*****

ONCE AGAIN: ******SPOILERS********

these are just my rambling Emotions about different moments, ostensibly in the order they occurred in the movie, but actually in the order I remember them:

The opening scene: that moment when Clint turned away from his daughter, and then turned back to see just a few remaining ashes floating slowly where she’d been was beautifully shot. Also beautiful: the soft gasp that went around the theatre right when it happened haha

Killing Thanos within the first 10 minutes and breaking the expected formula and thereby thrusting the movie out into unknown waters? lmao WELL PLAYED, ENDGAME <3

Steve picking up Sam’s mantle and running a support group for survivors? flawless move. My heart couldn’t take it

Okay first thing I genuinely didn’t like: “fat Thor” as a punchline. It was so cringey. My friends and I were discussing how that actually COULD have been so great had they explored Thor’s breakdown and PTSD in a meaningful way, and I mean who wouldn’t adore thicc Thor? But instead we got comedic zooms on his beer belly, and yeah. Kudos to Hemsworth for being a gem and making it work but yeah. Nothing wrong with Thor going to seed physically as well as mentally, just wish it hadn’t been played for laughs is all

Tony basically ripping his heart out and putting it in Steve’s hand? I knew my Vintage™ Stony feels were going to resurface and oh boy did they ever haha

Honestly their whole dynamic in the movies works very well if you imagine that they had angsty hate sex that wasn’t actually hate sex at all, and there was the possibility of real feelings there, but for whatever reason they just couldn’t. quite. make. it. work.

That moment with Antman and Hulk’s fans was so genuinely awkward and I could not stop laughing. Paul Rudd is a gift

It only took them 7 years to realize that all fans ever wanted was the Avengers lounging around in hoodies and eating takeout, but it felt all the more earned for it haha

this is silly but it was nice to have a return to Nat’s red hair...sort of lol

TIME HEIST! TIME HEIST! TIME HEIST! TIME HEIST!!

^^^ That was around when I really started settling in like ‘oh this is gonna be good’

the only spoiler I was exposed to was the ‘Steve’s ass finally gets the recognition it deserves’ post, and did it ever

got as close as we’ll get to canonically bi steve rogers and imma take it haha. Checking out your own ass? Legends only (in fact in our post-movie debrief over drinks, our first toast was ‘here’s to bisexual disaster steve rogers’ he time heisted my heart all over again)

and honestly props to them for going the cute nostalgic route by revisiting all the old movies like that, and not trying to be overly ‘dark and gritty’ for the whole thing. It was lovely how they did it, and very appropriate

The ‘Come and get your love’ credits from GotG is like the only concrete thing I even remember from that movie lol, and I was so giddy when it resurfaced

I’ll be honest, I’m so over aliens and space lol, any time one of these movies goes to space I’m basically yawning instantly, I’M JUST NOT INTO IT FOR THESE MOVIES SORRY. So I’m glad the space stuff was kept to a minimum in this haha. The way they do alien civilizations just never really packs a punch for me, with the single exception of...

......NEBULA MY LOVE <3 She was always the most intriguing and raw of any of the characters in those movies for me. Karen Gillan gives her an amazing presence, so I was glad to see her get a good showcase in this one

Oh hi Robert Redford, I definitely wasn’t reading Butch and Sundance fan fiction on the bus to work 12 hours before this movie asdjhgf haha that was a fun surprise

“Hail Hydra” ajshgd FUCKING EPIC OH MY GOD. I couldn’t breathe. That was amazing.

On a much less lighthearted note.......Natasha. Oh god. I really didn’t think they were going to go there with any of the original six but they did. Natasha was my original fave at the tender of 18, I was completely in awe of how Scarlett portrayed her, immediately cut my hair and dyed it red in tribute haha, and claimed her as my OG fave. I adored her, and still adore her. And honestly, I would have been so much more upset about her fate if...it hadn’t been so completely right for her. As much as I hate to say it, what she did was very character-appropriate for her, and really brought her full circle. And sneaky/unexpected to the end omg. That’s my girl.  I’m a diehard Black Widow fan, and I think it’s safe to say she definitely wiped out the red in her ledger, if there ever was any left <3

.....that being said, really, no lingering zoom on a photo of her somewhere at the avengers compound? Nothing? The reaction immediately afterwards was well done, but it was kind of awks that it never came back with even a mention lol 

Loved the way they did the ‘Guys...I think it worked’ emphasized only by the sound of birdsong. This movie killed it with the quieter moments

And now for something absolutely not quiet:

STEVE!!!

CAUGHT!!!!

THOR’S!!!!

HAMMER!!!!

I HAVE NEVER HEARD A THEATRE COLLECTIVELY LOSE THEIR SHIT LIKE THAT IN MY LIFE

I may have screamed. So. fucking. aces.

Between ‘Hail Hydra’, ‘That is America’s ass’, and lifting the hammer, Steve really owned this movie didn’t he lol

that’s my boy <3

they may have turned steve’s last movie into an avengers movie, but man alive this avengers movie was pretty much steve’s show and he killed every second of it

I’m giddy just thinking about it 

And speaking of giddy, everyone’s return.....normally the big final climactic battle scene tends to pale in comparison to nimbler action sequences that happened earlier, but I said giddy and I meant it. They really pulled out all the crown-pleasing stops in it, and it was impossible to nitpick, I had the biggest fucking smile on my face the whole time

AND OH MAN THAT ONE LITTLE MOMENT WITH DR. STRANGE. HOLDING UP ONE FINGER. WHAT A MOMENT. INCREDIBLE. JAW-DROPPING. VISIONARY. TRANSCENDAENT. UPLIFTING. MY HEART SOARED.

Until......THAT MOMENT

“I am Iron Man”

TONY

Oh god

Everyone speculated it would happen, but I didn’t actually think it would. IDK MAYBE I’M JUST NAIVE LOL.

I was actually kind of numb there for a while and I stayed numb until....

“Your dad liked cheeseburgers too”

Yeah there was no recovering after that lol, I was basically a wreck until the end from that moment on

Man...Tony Stark actually died....

As powerful as it was, I don’t really think they had to go there in order to bring the pathos? Idk I have mixed feelings about that choice lol, his big moment was epic but you know what else is epic? Going back to your log cabin to live with your family in peace lol. Idk I’m still not sure how I feel about their choice with that, but maybe it just hasn’t fully hit me yet

Sam as the new Captain America?? A-fucking-men

And this brings us to the ending

the controversial ending which is already causing its own civil war based on what I’ve seen so far haha. And for what my two cents are worth....

I loved it. That was a bold move and I really have to give them props for choosing something risky and unexpected as a conclusion. 

That last shot was absolutely beautiful. The moment ‘It’s Been A Long, Long Time’ kicked in I think my breath caught. And that slow zoom in on the window to see Steve and Peggy dancing 11 years of the Marvel Cinematic Universe to a close, and sealing it with a kiss? Gorgeous.

I’m honestly choked up again just thinking about it lol.

And although it’s a small thing, no end credits sequence?? That’s what we call true closure lol, and I think that was what really hammered in the fact that it’s really all over, folks <3

Yes there were some nit-pickable things, some things that could have been better, or came too little too late, and I can’t even BEGIN to wrap my head around the time-travel implications in the conclusion (and I’m not sure we’re supposed to haha). But they took approximately 9000 storylines and characters and managed to represent them in what was actually a genuinely emotional, thoughtful, and entertaining movie that managed to smash the expected formula and the gently pick it back up again to piece together a satisfying, crowd-pleasing, and soaring resolution. Yeah a good deal of the emotional-payoff was already built in what with audiences bringing their own 10-year journeys with these movies to the theatre, and part of my excitement about this movie is definitely tied into the overall pop culture phenomenon itself. But as a movie it exceeded all my expectations, and I’m very satisfied. Thanks, Marvel. It’s been a good run <3

[chmerkovskiyvalentin]

Q&A With Valentin Chmerkovskiy

BOOK: I'LL NEVER CHANGE MY NAME AUTHOR: VALENTIN CHMERKOVSKIY

1. In your opinion, what were some advantages you had being an immigrant and what were some disadvantages you faced in America?

I guess being an immigrant at a young age gave me an opportunity to be challenged in ways most kids my age didn’t get challenged. Learning another language different from the one I have been speaking since birth, trying to fit in while not being able to afford certain things that had social status, from clothing to vacations, whatever gave you the license to be cool I didn’t possess when I was young.

But what I realized is work-ethic and talent are the coolest things you can have at any age, and immediately the things I didn’t have became my most valuable assets teaching me some of my most valuable lessons.

2. What inspired the title of your book, “I’ll Never Change My Name” and did you always have pride in your name or was it something you had to grow to love?

I always had immense pride in my name, because my name was given to me in memory of my grandfather who passed away a few years before I was born. He was an extraordinary man whose name I wear and it’s always held me accountable, as did my last name.

Both were subject to a lot of conversation throughout my life some good and some a little more hurtful, but never did I feel less than for having a foreign name in a place I called home. It always empowered me. Being different and having challenges because of it always inspired me to be greater!

3. Have you been back to Ukraine in your adulthood? Do you feel that the American views of Ukraine as a whole are misinformed? If so, why?

I have. It’s a beautiful country with some really beautiful people. I can’t speak on American views of Ukraine because I think it’s impossible to make that assumption based on what we see on TV. I would just suggest anyone that hasn’t been, to go and visit. Having said that, to me America is home. America is where I truly grew up. And America is the country I’m most grateful for. Along with France, God knows I love croissants and Rousseau.  

4. You talk a lot about your family and culture, what elements of your family changed when you arrived in the States and what elements stayed the same?

My family has always been my foundation. It's what drives me, holds me accountable, keeps me moving and pushing. When we first arrived there was tremendous uncertainty for all of us. All of the family members had their own individual challenges they faced but it was family that was the constant. We didn't know where the next dollar was coming from but we all knew that when we got home we had each other.

My parents were truly magicians, especially my mom who with very little was always able to provide the family with a warm cooked meal and had us all congregate around the dinner table daily. I do feel that was the piece of our culture we brought to the States and haven't abandoned it still. Gathering daily as a family to check in and push one another built a very strong bond and with folks like mine, I was able to be surrounded by love and support even if outside our home there was very little of it. In terms of what changed... well everything changed.

We become what we surround ourselves with. As we moved neighborhoods and as our circumstances changed, so did our lives and our outlook on it. But no matter what, we always kept our language (speaking only Russian at the dinner table) and our family traditions.

5. How easy or difficult was it for you to find your voice as a writer? And do you feel the “authentic you” was able to come out?

I've had this voice for a long time. I always loved storytelling I just had never been able to put it all down on paper before, not in this capacity at least. The most important thing for me throughout this entire process was to do justice to the reader for spending their money and most importantly time reading my book. I wanted to make sure that it wasn't just me venting or gossiping, but that I was being respectful and accurate, and also entertaining and inspiring all at the same time.

Now, I don't think anyone should seek to inspire others but rather seek to be themselves the best way they can be and hopefully, by sharing their story others can relate and be inspired. I feel like with this book I got to be myself and share what I find important with the world. Hopefully, someone out there drew a little happiness from the read. That’s all I can ever ask for from my work.

6. What was your writing process like for this book?

I looked back at my life at a glance and just started listing moments that shaped my perspective and my experiences. I tried to then draw parallels between my past and my present, and just make some sense of it all. As the process went on, I was able to discover so many connections, so many fun moments, so many moments that made me say, "Aha that all makes sense now." Without reflection, it's hard to be mindful, and as I try to live a mindful life, I reflect a lot on the moments that brought me here. I wrote about it. This is who I am, and here's why.

7. You have such a unique life story, during your writing process did you ever stop and pinch yourself, realizing where you are now?

That "unique life" is exactly why I wanted to write this book. I wanted to share how dynamic life can be, for it's the thing that will make you look back one day and want to pinch yourself too. I’m so grateful for all the hands I was dealt in my life, the losing ones and the winning ones. I'm just grateful I got to play them all.

8. What have you learned most about yourself through working on “Dancing With The Stars”?

Patience haha. I learned how much I love to perform, how much I love to help people. To some degree, I always knew that, but 'Dancing With The Stars' showed me how rewarding it can be when you're doing what you love and sharing it with millions of people.

9. Who was someone that you danced with on the show that completely surprised you because of their dancing talents?

Rumer Willis, cause she was not a dancer. She was not someone that had danced before at all. To see her transform into a dancer was really amazing. It was actually the first time I ever won DWTS was with Rumer. It was one of the most rewarding seasons not because we won, but because I got to help this young woman find her inner strength and beauty. I was able to be a small part of her journey and contribute to her growth, all while watching her family and the world celebrate her. That was very special for me.

10. Can you talk a little bit about the dance studio you opened in Buckhead (an uptown district in Atlanta) and what you hope students get from your studio?

Like with every Dance With Me location around the country, I want it to be a place for people to feel welcome, in what can be one of the most terrifying environments for people... a Dance Studio. That is most important to me, that people are proud to be part of our little community of positivity, inclusion, self-improvement, and fun. Dance is just a vehicle for the bigger picture, living a fulfilling life. That’s all we are. Dance With Me is a place where I want people to find a little help, a little motivation, and a little joy on their path to living a complete and fulfilling life.

11. What’s the best book you have read in 2019 thus far?

The Subtle Art of Not Giving A F*ck. Don't let the title fool you, it’s a book about how to care even more... about the things that truly matter. "The Subtle Art of Caring Responsibly" just didn't have the same ring to it.

12. What’s your best advice for getting over writer’s block?

Just like getting over procrastination and anxiety... JUST DO IT. So insensitive and so simple I know, but sometimes we complicate things into non-existence. Relax. Breathe. And GO. Action is the best remedy for all the blocks in our life.

Force yourself to just take the first step, write the first paragraph and you will see that just one word turns into two and then ten and then you got yourself a story. I like to see the bigger picture in everything I do. What’s the message? What’s the point? What’s the bigger message? How is this different? I mean sure it’s all important but... breathe, relax, and START!

It’s ok if its garbage at first, genius sometimes can come out of garbage, and sometimes not, sometimes it just stays garbage. But, in this short time, we have on earth creating something is better than creating nothing, so create don't worry about the end in the beginning. One step at a time. One word at a time. One breath at a time. Not in that order, of course, make sure you breathe throughout. :)

13. What’s the best advice you have ever received on happiness?

I didn't. It's a constant search. Happiness is earned with action and adventure and movement and ups and downs in life! Happiness is in constant motion, you gotta chase it, find it, and foster it. If you're unhappy, just remember that happiness is just around the corner. But, don't take anyone's word for it, go and see it for yourself. And if you don't find it still, then go to your nearest Dance With Me. I promise you will find happiness there. Nothing like the human touch shared on the dance floor.

14. Do you plan on writing more books in the future?

I do when I have the spark. When I get this dying desire that I can’t breathe without writing it. I couldn't breathe with all of these stories in my head, I had to put them in a book. I had to share. I don't have that now. I'm actually in a state of reclusion to some degree, where the combination of spending the last 7 years on television along with 7 national tours and then writing this book, I feel like I need to step back.

I need to be a human again and live, and in living find inspiration for the thoughts that will turn into words I want to share with the world. I think the next book I write will be fiction.

[pauldeckerus]

The Top 200 Things I’m Thankful For This Thanksgiving

Today is a big holiday in the US; it’s a day where we take time off to celebrate all the things we’re thankful for. We get together with family; over-eat a traditional Thanksgiving Day meal, and then we watch football until we pass out. It’s just about a perfect day.

I got up this morning feeling especially grateful for the many blessings I enjoy all year long, and I wanted to take a few minutes to share the things I’m thankful for this Thanksgiving Day. I believe counting your blessings is one of the best things a person can do (and that this list of 200 is only a start, is a real blessing to me for sure).

Here they are, (in no particular order):

I’m thankful….

1. that I got to marry the girl of my dreams (it’ll be 30-years this coming September)

2. for Keurig Coffee Makers

3. for little hole-in-the-wall restaurants

4. for having a big brother I could always look up to

5. that she said “yes!”

6. for the “Skip” button on YouTube ads 

7. when I hear the ringtone that lets me know my son is texting us

8. for Seinfeld reruns 

9. that I learned how to use Photoshop and Lightroom

10. for lazy Saturday mornings when we just chill

11. for Saturday College Football games and that our son chose a big football school (#rolltide!)

12. for Hulu and Netflix and Amazon Prime

13. for Maggie the Wonderdog

14. for how happy Maki the SuperDog makes my wife

15. for that first cup of coffee in the morning

16. that my wife got us a Latte maker

17. for big greasy double-cheeseburgers served in restaurants whose cleanliness is so suspect that my wife would never eat there.

18. for anytime I drive up to our house, and see our son’s truck sitting out front

19. that first morning hug from my wifey

20. that the Buc’s miserable season is mercifully almost over

21. that this year the Patriot’s aren’t as good as they usually are

22. for any chilly day here in Florida

23. for my daughter’s wonderful sense of humor

24. when my daughter shares her drawings with me

25. for CoffeeMate individual creamers

26. that my son was born with the built-in love of helping and looking out for other people

27. for the text my son just sent us as I’m writing this that brought tears to my eyes 

28. for my daughter’s laugh

29. for all the family traditions that my wife fosters and we all lover

30. that our kids get to attend great schools

31. for Dunkin Donut’s drive-thru in the morning, and that they’ll make your coffee just the way you like it

32. for Terry White

33. for the kind people who read my blog each day

34. for all the little things

35. for our cozy couch for watching TV

36. for Logic Pro X (the wonderful recording studio software on my Mac)

37. for Pizza, and the fine people who deliver them. 

38. for mornings where Maggie doesn’t bark at other children and parents in the car line

39. that my son is such a faithful person by nature

40. for Sunday night’s texting my buddy Jeff Revell as we watch ‘The Walking Dead’ together, while 1,000 miles apart

41. for our tradition of watching “Love Actually” again every Christmas

42. for living so close to Disney World

43. for how awesome my wife is at planning trips

44. for being married to such an amazing cook

45. for a really comfy bed pillow

46. for Rick and Susan Sammon

47. for all my guitars

48. for beautiful offices for us to work in each day

49. to have Jessica, Kim and Cindy work on my books

50. that people actually buy my books, which lets me keep writing them

51. for the smell of my wife’s cooking when I walk in the door

52. for times when just my daughter and I get to go out to lunch

53. for Moose and Sharon

54. for Dave, Peter, and Glyn 

55. for having such a wonderful mother and father growing up. 

56. for being able to play musical instruments

57. for having mentors whose wisdom and whip-cracking have helped immeasurably throughout my life

58. for Jeanne Jilleba who helps me so much each day

59. for having a great relationship with my mother and father-in-law

60. for having a mother-in-law who stepped in for my own mother when she passed away

61. for the trips my brother and I take together once a year

62. to Delta, their SkyClub, and all the upgrades I get each year

63. to Erik Kuna for being my friend

64. for all the folks who come out to my seminars each year.

65. that I still get to work with my friend Ted Waitt

66. for Levi, and Sally and Dianne for caring so much about our members

67. for Chris, Susie, Karen and Pam – I’m lucky to work with them

68. for my wife’s beautiful smile

69. for how my son always shares new songs he finds with me

70. for all the times my wife texts me a heart emoji

71. for somebody’s else’s fries

72. for how my friend Dave Clayton’s texts always make me laugh out loud

73. that my kids know they are loved completely and unconditionally 

74. for my Pastor and friend Douglas Poole

75. for Victoria’s sweet texts, and for what a joy she is

76. that I get to drive a car each day that makes driving a joy

77. for really good air conditioning

78. that I get to use such great camera and lighting gear

79. for Google’s news app on my phone

80. for my great Web team; Adam, Aaron, Yo, and Curt 

81. for everybody who checked on my wifey when she got in an accident

82. for black t-shirts with logos on them

83. for Dave Black, Kristy Sherk, Lindsay Adler and Peter Hurley, 

84. for the beautiful baby grand piano Kalebra bought for my birthday 20+ years ago

85. that I’ve been able to be a part of the Photoshop World conference all these years

86. for when great ideas pop in my head, and for being able to move on when it turns out some of them aren’t as great as I thought

87. for all my friends who came to the rescue

88. for the pretty drive to work in the mornings

89. for Juan, Steve, Jason and Christina

90. that my daughter and our niece are such great friends

91. that my son loves so many different kinds of music (everything from classic rock to Sinatra to rap to metal)

92. for all the times my big brother helped me, and guided me, when I was growing up.

93. for my apple watch and all the reminders it gives me

94. for weekends and days off

95. for the smell of coffee brewing

96. for Margie, Angela, Jacque, John and Rachel

97. for Maxx Hammond for being such a great friend to my son all these years, and for being an important part of our family

98. for comfortable shoes

99. for having a friend like Manny

100. for loving every minute with my family

101. for the men and women of our military 

102. for Julie, Kleber, Heidi and Cheryl

103. for the little Blackstar tube amp sitting on my desk

104. anytime I get to go to New York City

105. for our dear friend and partner Jean A.

106. for James Taylor

107. for all the awesome texts I’m getting from friends today

108. that my daughter still cares that I bake my special “Christmas Cookies” each year when we put up the tree (and I’m grateful she thinks Pillsbury mean ‘special’).

109. my guardian angel 

110. for bagels with cream cheese

111. for Larry Tiefenbrunn

112. for first responders

113. that my camera bag has four wheels

114. for Viktor and Ron

115. for Larry Becker, Rob Sylvan, and Dave Williams

116. for my friends Chicky Nando, and Big Mike, and Cathy B, and Mimo

117. for all the stuff in Erik’s backpack (since he always has that thing I need that I forgot to bring)

118. for waking up feeling great in the morning!

119. for Joe and Annie

120. that our dog Maki has a best friend in our son’s dog Nami

121. for beautiful clouds when I’m shooting a sunrise

122. for a yummy breakfast after a sunrise shoot

123. for my wife’s homemade chocolate-chip pancakes

124. for the sound of my wife’s voice

125. for mornings when I get up early and get a bunch of stuff done and I look up and it’s only 8:15 am

126. for landings in London

127. the quiet time my wife and I share with our coffee in the mornings before the kids wake up

128. My MacBook Pro and how much easier it makes my business life each day

129. for forgiveness 

130. that I realize what a privileged, blessed life I lead, and to whom I owe the thanks

131. that I start each day getting centered reading the Bible and daily devotionals

132. for how my daughter is always dancing

133. for the night’s where our family gets together to play games

134. for when we all lay on the floor, looking up and debate how tall the ceiling is in our living room

135. for our holiday trips to Disney’s Hollywood Studios

136. for cheese. Any kind of cheese. Even if it dispenses from a can

137. that somebody kept reading even though we’re down to number 137

138. that we have doggie treats when we really need them

139. for breakfasts at First Watch

140. for Carmine’s on W. 44th Street

141. for all the awesome instructors I get to work with

142. for empty middle seats

143. for my iPad and all the awesome apps, like the Kindle Reader

144. for the Texture app so I can read all my favorite magazines on my iPad

145. that I get to make new friends along the way

146. that people come to my workshops and I get to make new friends

147. for everyone who has stuck up for me in an online forum

148. for all the people who helped me along the way, and who may be gone, but are not forgotten

149. for the great companies and partners who sponsor The Grid

150. that I get to do a weekly live photography show and have such wonderful photographers as guests

151. for my Platypod Ultra

152. that my employees have a long weekend this weekend

153. for my lunch this week with an old friend

154. that we work so close to one of the best Cuban restaurants 

155. for Tara our awesome official Chilis server for over 10-years now

156. for how happy fresh flowers make my wife

157. to see how happy it makes Kalebra when we all eat our vegetables at dinner

158. for a beautiful yard for the doggos to run in. 

159. for Sundays when I sleep in really late

160. that my son left his awesome drum kit here so I can play it

161. that my old rock band from high-school still gets together to play our high-school reunion party

162. that I live in a very sunny place

163. for Google search

164. for every time my wife is cooking and says “I’m trying something different tonight.” It always leads to a delicious meal!

165. that I always remember our anniversary

166. that our family makes birthdays really special for each other

167. that we have a photographic art gallery and that we get to celebrate our member’s work there

168. that I have such a great art director for my shoots in Kalebra

169. for William C. Miller, my high school band director, who taught us more than music.

170. that I was born and raised here

171. for Deb, John, Bob, Sam, and all my friends in Boston

172. for the Sci-Fi Drive-In Theatre restaurant 

173. for Frank Doorhof

174. for all the summers in Sarasota at the beach when I was growing up

175. for getting to board early

176. for Larry Grace, Ed Buice, and Rob Foldy

177. for Superchargers

178. for when the dogs realize it was just a random sound and stop barking

179. for all the live concerts, Broadway shows, and performances I’ve experienced

180. for my wife’s guardian angel, who has been working overtime lately

181. for Zephyrhills bottled spring water

182. for the times my brother and I get to play golf

183. for the Genius Bar in the Apple Store 

184. for Chili’s chips and salsa

185. for now thoughtful my wife is

186. for afternoon’s at the movies

187. for the times when I could think of the perfect gift

188. for all the people who participate in my Worldwide Photo Walk and for the joy it brings me to see their smiling faces in their group shots

189. for everyone who has donated to the Springs of Hope Kenya orphanage

190. for all the wonderful gifts I treasure that Kalebra has gotten me over the years

191. for all my friends at Canon USA

192. for everybody who follows me on social media, and shares a kind word or says something nice about one of my images.

193. for every handmade birthday card my daughter has made for me

194. that my son is a way better version of me

195. for all the times when my wife knows exactly what to say and how to say it

196. that people are kind when they point out my typos on my blog

197. that I love to drive

198. that I still get to play with Scotty and Tony in a band. 

199. for how easy it was to come up with 200 things I’m grateful for

200. for God, and His Son Jesus Christ, for leading me to the woman of my dreams, for blessing us with such amazing children, for allowing me to make a living doing something I truly love, for always being there when I need Him, for blessing me with a wonderful, fulfilling, and happy life, and such a warm, loving family to share it with.

Here’s wishing you a Thanksgiving full of family, food, gratitude for our many blessings, and I hope your team wins this weekend unless you’re playing Alabama! #rolltide!

All my best, 

-Scott

The post The Top 200 Things I’m Thankful For This Thanksgiving appeared first on Scott Kelby's Photoshop Insider.

from Photography News https://scottkelby.com/the-top-200-things-im-thankful-for-this-thanksgiving/

[mummified-game-review]

Depth Of Extinction Definitive Edition: A Review

I love that part in Water world when LL Cool J turns to Jason Stathem and says “You’re going to need a bigger boat” Such a classic line from an iconic actor and movie.

Welcome back to another video here at Mummified Games. My name is Tony and today we're going to look at this tactical top down shooter Depth of Extinction: Definitive Edition By HOF Studios.

Do you like Xcom? Well great this is just xcom in a water world game.

Okay well that is from me folks like comment subscribe.

No no no I'm just kidding. This game would be so easy to write off as just Waterworld Xcom. But I owe you all a real review.

So in this game you play as a tactical squad of mercenaries that are here to collect a bunch of things that will unlock something.

The story isn't very complicated from the early game. It's a basic fetch quest. Most of the gameplay comes from the actual combat in this game.

Like I said this game is very similar to XCOM, it's the same strategic shooting squad game. Move your characters into position and set them to overwatch where if something moves light em up. Weigh your options on which target to attack and then unload whatever special type of gun you have.

From where I got to in the game it's missing the base building aspect and tech research that was in XCOM and so from where I got in the game it's missing that bit of fun. But I could be wrong, maybe that comes in after a while.

At the start the game's art style was very off putting, and the story felt a little ham fistted.

So you follow some soldiers, walking into a place that has a machine of some sort, and it's explained to one of the rookies that since they were short staffed they were rushed ahead in their training.

They run into a robot that can't identify itself, weird. The robot gives a warning to the team about collecting the things to unlock the other thing. And then 3 big beefy robots come in and kill the first robot and your team hightails it out of there.

The team explains this to some scientist and they explain “okay well i guess there's nothing to do but get out there and find the things so you can unlock the other thing”

I'm not mincing words, there's no “mmmm it's an interesting prospect, our scientists have been researching this thing for years and the idea of being able to learn more about this big thing would, blah blah blah” it's not like the vault in Borderlands. It's just a task to do so go do the things.

Either this team is super bored and has nothing better to do, or it's a bussy task for these new folk.

So as I said, the story isn't really interesting.

But the art style is the thing that did grow on me over time. At the start it felt like some sudo retro sprite based thing. And it was super not fun to look at in the opening cutscene.

But after getting past that and moving into the actual gameplay. The game let me zoom out a

Little bit and that made all the difference.

The gameplay is the meat and potatoes to this dish.

The game has this map where you’re driving your sub to different bases or structures that were built above the water. The sub has only so much gas to get you to your destination.

This part of the game reminds me a lot of the game I reviewed early on called Onward.

Where you need to stop off and fight the things, gather supplies and move on down the road.

But unlike onward that gives you a sort of line you need to follow due West with the occasional branching paths. This game gives you a wide spider web of locations you can visit on your way from the start to the goal you have.

The game is a lot of moving your squad around the map, shooting bad guys, collecting items, save hostages, investigate terminals, hide around cover, and make your way around these little maps.

It's good, the levels you are given aren't hard to get through, at least at the point where I was playing.

Run though levels and collect and kill things. And slowly your Mercenaries will level up and gain special skills. Sort of like classes in a Role Playing game.

Assault, snipers, rouge, heavy weapons, things like that. And each one has their own special skills and attributes that come with selecting that skill at level 2.

One thing that I love about this game is its clarity in the math for your shot accuracy calculation. They may be whatever numbers that might not have any validity. But they make me feel good.

So the game actually shows you what the likelihood of your shot making contact actually would be. From a base 100 then minus their cover points, then any armor, and so forth and so forth.

I love it. There was a point in my Midboss review where I went too into what each thing meant in the stats in that game and I should've known better. But this one makes it so clear and easy to understand what things might need to be fixed to get a better shot.

And that's the other thing one of these shots give you that unrealistic feeling of “WHAT! That should have hit! How the heck did you miss you were right next to him” they feel realistic. When the shot has under 50% chance of hitting and it misses, it feels normal. And when it's at 90% chance they almost never miss.

Again I keep going back to XCOM as a comparison to this game, but hey that's just what I know.

In XCOM there would be a 90% chance of the squad member with a shotgun making the shot when the enemy is right around the corner. And if they missed then it feels like a giant WTF moment.

I think it's because in this game your characters have more health. In Xcom you have about 4 to start off with and you have to be super careful about your shots.

I for sure will be coming back to this game in my time off. I saw the recording got to an hour, and without hesitation i thought “NOPE, One more”

It's a fun game. And I highly recommend checking it out. Links to the store page will be linked in the description along with a link to the Tumblr that was created for this show that has all the videos posted in order along with under them the full scripts that were typed up for those who need it. I'm mentioning this now because I just recently made a tumblr and wanted to give it a shout out.

But anyway that's this review.

If you played this game. Tell me your thoughts about it. What were some things you liked about it?

If you haven't played this one. Are there any other Strategy shooters like this in the Bundle For Racial justice. Or any other games you want to tell me about and want me to try. I might just take a look at them.

IN THE MEANTIME! I've switched up my process of how these videos get made, and instead of doing these videos after i get off work and playing before noon. I've decided that I'm not going to fight my body being a night owl and instead I'm actually writing this at 1 am. And I'm going to go to bed and then record this while my roommates are gone, clock into work, get my 8 hours, and then edit it together after that. I think this will help me reach the hours I need at work and still get the videos out on a regular time.

Not that anyone cares about all that a bit rambly that segment was.

All you need to worry about is doing the youtube dance. Like, Sub, Bell, Tell someone you know about the show, comment your thoughts about the video down below.

And as always friends, Keep diggin, and we’ll make it out sometime.

See you in the next one.

[therealwuss]

Favorite Films of 2019

10.) The Farewell

A movie that is just filled to the brim with pure joy that’s somehow seamlessly intertwined with existential melancholy throughout the duration of its runtime. Hearing the director say that she took so much inspiration from horror films in order to tell this heartwarming family story only solidified what a badass achievement it is. The Farewell makes me happy to be alive. 

9.) The Lighthouse

The Lighthouse feels like it was beamed here from another planet--the kind of film I want to revisit again and again...but like, at 3am on a second wind of crazed insomnia. It’s deliriously funny and moody and creepy and achieves an infectious level of insanity that I could swim in for days. Robert Pattinson and Willem Dafoe are my favorite on-screen couple of 2019. 

8.) Ma

Speaking of insanity...Ma (2019). This movie had already become a hilarious meme that I was sure the film itself would not live up to before I could see it...boy was I wrong! Ma was the most fun I had in a theater in 2019, consistently surpassing my (already low) expectations and always satiating my endless appetite for camp. I kind of can’t believe this movie exists, and look forward to the endless times I will beg someone to let me introduce them to it over a bottle of wine. 

7.) Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

Per usual, I loved Quentin Tarantino’s new movie, and I loved how much heart and good will was flowing through this one after the searing politics of The Hateful Eight. That man just knows how to deliver a payoff, and he knows that he knows how to deliver a payoff. So keep ya think-pieces to yourself--I think it’s nearly impossible for him to soil his own oeuvre at this point. 

6.) Portrait of a Lady On Fire

This felt like the lesbian response to Call Me By Your Name, and I mean that in the best way possible. Similarly to that movie, this film captures a sense of time, place, and feeling in such a way that it washes over you like the nostalgia of revisiting a journal about your first kiss. It broke my heart in a way that made me thankful I had a heart to be broken. I’d place it right alongside CMBYN and Linklater’s Before Trilogy in the pantheon of definitive love stories. 

5.) Parasite

Parasite is a damn blast and everyone knows it. Bong Joon-ho has never been a man of small scale but by confining his story to a single house, he creates uninhibited cinematic fireworks. A timely allegory wrapped up in a film that is part comedy, part drama, part thriller, part Home Alone, and part horror film? Yes, please! 

4.) Knife + Heart

I signed up for this movie for the throwback to campy Giallo horror films and was pleasantly surprised when I got not only that, but also a moving narrative about the maddening grief of heartbreak that seemed to exist within a utopian gay world where sex and queer-living were not only the norm, but an unapologetically fun norm. That was a long sentence...I don’t think there’s much more to say about Knife + Heart than that. ...Oh, it also has my favorite end credits of 2019!

3.) Midsommar

The breakup movie of the year, if not the decade (sorry, Marriage Story)--I think I had more conversations about this film than any other all year. Even when considering other folk horror films, Midsommar stands on its own as wholly original and unique, with an ending that’s nothing short of sublime. After Hereditary, my pal and I expected to leave the theatre feeling like shit, so I think it’s a testament to the movie’s magic that we instead walked out eager to find a bar where we could dance. 

2.) Climax

No movie influenced my approach to filmmaking and my ideas about what I wanted to do with the format this year more so than Climax. Say what you will about Gaspar Noé’s provocative tendencies, but sometimes there’s something to be said for jumping off the subtlety-bandwagon and completely flooring the gas just because you can. Doing so has created his most accessible film to date, and I hadn’t been so thrilled by a viewing experience since Mad Max: Fury Road. There’s something beautifully tragic about seeing such a diverse and colorful cast of characters come together to make art that bangs as hard as the movie’s opening dance sequence, only to have them devolve and turn against each other when their party goes to hell. It’s easy to dismiss the film as “excessive,” but far from easy to match its ambition. 

1.) The Beach Bum

A lot of filmmakers in 2019 seemed to discover a winning formula by allowing more joy to seep into their typically dark and/or sardonic subject matter (e.g. The Lighthouse, Midsommar, Climax, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, etc.). Harmony Korine has built his career on making films that are infinitely more fucked up than those of these other filmmakers and never apologizing in favor of holding up a middle finger. What’s fascinating about The Beach Bum is that Korine somehow manages to pivot so far into the territory of unbridled joy that it seemingly still warrants an apology. Many people hated the film, sometimes citing it as hedonistic, rude, “gross,” or all three. A few people walked out of my screening when I saw it. This is probably because The Beach Bum is as unafraid of all the raunchy, shocking, seedy aspects of the human condition as any of Korine’s previous films. But the thing that makes The Beach Bum different is that rather than use those aspects to actually shock people, here it feels that Korine is simply trying to employ them to celebrate life. To celebrate that we all have assholes and elbows and that life’s imperfect and THAT’S OKAY! Whether Matthew McConaughey’s “Moondog” is having raucous sex covered in cooking oil in a burger joint, or comforting a loved one as they pass away, the movie’s delightful score (like something out of a Disney film) never lets up--it’s like the film equivalent of one of my favorite quotes: “Life is 10% what happens to you, 90% how you react to it.” And no matter the circumstances, Moondog always opts for the high road (on multiple levels). This movie comforts me to no end, and I frequently find myself repeating Moondog’s mantra: “This life gig’s a fuckin’ rodeo. I’m gonna suck the nectar out of it and fuck it raw-dog until the wheels come off.”

Lots of films in 2019 held a mirror to our society just to show us how ugly the reflection was. But The Beach Bum (and Moondog) gives us something to believe in. 

Honorable Mention:

*) Uncut Gems

*) Jojo Rabbit

*) 1917

*) The Nightingale

*) Toy Story 4

*) Waves

*) The Irishman

*) Little Women

*) Queen & Slim

*) Knives and Skin

*) Crawl

[evenstevensranked]

#34: Season 3, Episode 7 - “Raiders of the Lost Sausage”

Louis accidentally discovers that there might very well be buried treasure under his house and he’s determined to retrieve it. An Indiana Jones parody ensues. Meanwhile, Ren and Larry are literally tied together by the school guidance counselor in an attempt to end their rivalry. It’s quality content.

The very first minute of this episode lets you know right away that you’ve hit good’ol zany as hell Season 3. It opens with an emu being delivered to the Stevens house. Yes, an emu. Louis ordered one on a whim one day. We get a flashback to when he ordered it, which is pretty great. He called the totally legit and not completely asinine sounding company “Emu For You” and started awkwardly dancing to the jazzy elevator hold music. 

Steve is the one who has to accept the emu delivery and is obviously furious. The bird immediately starts eating a family photo and I love how even in a professional, dressy portrait -- Louis is still wearing a Hawaiian shirt. 

I want a relationship with someone as strong as the bond between Louis Stevens and Hawaiian shirts. 

Louis is currently in the basement with Twitty and Tom, “bowling” with a frozen turkey and some soda bottles (the usual) -- when suddenly the frozen turkey goes flying through the wall, revealing a suspicious small tunnel. 

Steve confronts Louis about the emu and Louis pulls some lame excuse out of his butt for ordering it. He says they should start breeding emus. Steve is all “Breed emus.... With one bird...” pointing out that lil flaw in Louis’ idea. That’s pretty funny. There’s a bit here where Eileen finds a giant emu egg and interrupts their conversation through the basement window, and gets attacked by the bird. You don’t actually see it happening though, all you see are feathers flying everywhere. Steve goes to help her and he too gets attacked. I always cringe at this, tbh. It’s just one of those wacky Season 3 gags. Anyway... Louis, Twitty and Tom agree to meet up the next day and investigate the tunnel. 

Now, onto the subplot! We see Ren and Larry in Principal Wexler’s office, in trouble for accidentally pieing him in the face. They had the responsibility of choosing a new dessert for the cafeteria and couldn’t agree on one. They were goiiiing to pie each other, but Wexler walked between them that exact second. Of course. They’re still fervently arguing in front of Wexler so he decides that their rivalry has gone too far and they need to work it out with the school guidance counselor.

This photo makes me relate to the “....now kiss!” meme. 

Louis does some hardcore research on what that tunnel in the house might lead to and comes to an... interesting conclusion. He discovers that a man named Grover Frazee, creator of Frazee Sausages, owned the property their house is built on. He became super rich off of the company and Louis believes that he most likely buried his fortune at the end of the tunnel. Something interesting: take a look at the opening credits for the episode...

Written by SCOTT FRAZEE! Dude legit named this sausage guy character after himself, lol. I always thought that was cute. I’ve said many times before that the writers are always throwing personal things in. I love it. Check out Grover’s bio though... yikes. 

I’m not sure I’d be proud of that legacy. Also, he died at 43 years old... Pretty young. Maybe he ate a contaminated sausage and croaked. Also, all this talk of sausages feels like another innuendo. This show has no chill. 

Louis put so much effort into his analysis, though. He treated it like a freaking college research project. Again, if he put this much effort into actual school assignments, he’d give Ren a run for her scholastic money. Tom is pretty great here. He starts singing the “We bet, you’ll go crazy... for that great, taste of Frazeeeee” jingle. It’s fantastic. 

Ms. Shannon, the guidance counselor, decides to try an experimental exercise with Ren and Larry: Physically tying them together for 5 school days. As much as I looove this subplot, this always bothered me. Mainly because, how the heck does Ms. Shannon expect that to work? What if they have different classes, or need to be at different places at the same time, etc? We get a montage showing how they struggle with stuff like this throughout the day. The only issue is that the length of the leash dramatically changes depending on the scene. It’s so frustrating!  

They clearly kept changing the length just so certain ideas could work. It bothers me so much, lol. I’m also 100% positive that’s not even where Ren’s locker is. 

Louis, Twitty and Tom get to work shoveling out the tunnel. They bring in Beans to be their “dirt moving specialist” which is so annoying. He carries dirt in his pants from the basement to their laundry room like an idiot. They literally spend a minute showing him walking back and forth past Steve. It takes so long for Steve to catch on, it’s... ugh. 

Why is he standing on the top of the little mound like that? lol. He says he’s putting the dirt in the laundry room because “there’s a big, scary bird in the backyard!” 

Steve obviously goes down to the basement and catches them in the shoveling act. Twitty asks Louis what he’s going to do with his share of the money and Louis says “You know I’ve always wanted to travel. Help out the folks. Might even buy the old man a nice toupee, ahh?!” -- Unfortunately, Twitty is gone and replaced by Steve. We get a legendary Louis Scream. Can we talk about how Louis has always wanted to travel, though??? I suddenly want to see a happy Louis Stevens backpacking across the country later in life... oh wait. THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED. Shia LaBeouf is Louis Stevens, y’all. The similarities never end. 

Steve is piiiissssed. Louis tries to explain that he’s done his research and there’s definitely... probably... buried treasure there. But, since Louis is always goofing off, Steve is convinced it’s another one of his crazy “half-baked schemes.” “NO! IT’S NOT HALF-BAKED! IT’S FULLY BAKED!!!” Louis insists. Steve basically temporarily grounds him. There’s a great bit with Donnie eating an emu egg that Eileen cooked for him. They’re delicious apparently, so she starts to see the bright side to having the bird around. “When life gives you lemons!” she says. And Donnie’s all “.......no, mom. They’re eggs.” What an underrated character. Steve walks in and starts complaining about Louis. Donnie pulls a 180 and tells him “You don’t have to believe in what Louis is doing. Just believe in Louis.” Dang, Donnie coming through with the proverbs. Steve takes this to heart and starts looking into Louis’ research. 

Louis is so smart when he wants to be. Steve appreciates this.

They make this scene into a trippy sequence with eerie tinkering piano in the background as Steve remembers Donnie’s reverberating words of wisdom. I’ve always really liked this. We think he’s hearing Donnie’s voice in his head, but it’s actually Donnie creeping from around the corner saying the sentence repeatedly. “I heard you the first time, finish your eggs!” Steve says. This is hilarious. Immediately after that, they make the hands on a clock spin out of control, making it seem like hours and hours are passing by while Steve looks into Louis’ research. But then Steve just walks up to it and says “...I gotta fix that clock.” I always thought this was so freaking funny but to this day my mom doesn’t understand the joke and it drives me craaaaaazy! Louis comes downstairs to apologize, and to his surprise... Steve is on his side now! They team up and start diggin’ for that treasure! While they’re digging we get two of the greatest lines in the entire series:

Steve: “Louis.... why aren’t you at school?”

Louis: “...Why aren’t you at work?” 

THIS IS SO PERFECT! I was going to point out that Louis, Twitty, Tom and Beans all should’ve been at school the whole time... but I was waiting until now to bring it up. TV shows always mess up timelines like that. This was such a hilarious way for the writers to acknowledge their mistake. So good. Mr. Scott Frazee and Co aren’t totally out of the woods, though. Louis and Steve are in the same clothes for basically the entire episode. But Larry and Ren’s subplot tells us that at least two days have gone by. Either Louis and Steve didn’t shower or change clothes for 2 days...... or they messed up. Oops. 

Back at school, Larry and Ren are tangled around a tree (again, the leash was like, a foot long when they were trying to get at their “lockers” -- but now it’s conveniently long enough for them to get tangled around a tree.) They’re stuck and talk about how this experiment has only made them resent each other more. 

But the longer they hate each other, the longer they’re tied together. So they both immediately get the idea to become fake fast friends so that Ms. Shannon will remove the leash. After frantically untangling themselves, they return to Ms. Shannon’s office and act all cuddly -- gushing over how well they get along after only two days! They say things in unison and Larry even calls Ren “silly soulmate.” Omg. Ms. Shannon agrees to untie them. 

They leave the office giggling and laughing at how they successfully tricked her, without realizing that the experiment worked, lol. They’re actually getting along and it’s beautiful ok...

I had to include this overabundance of screenshots because look how precious!! This episode always manages to remind me how SALTY I AM over the fact that they never got together. What a power couple they could’ve been. A giant missed opportunity for a big series finale plot twist, if you ask me. They slowly realize that they’re getting along and are freaked out. They start yelling the same exact sentences at each other.... in unison..... because they’re silly soulmates. That’s the end of the subplot. 

Back at the Stevens house, Louis and Steve have made it to the end of the tunnel. *dun dun dunnnn.* They reach a tiny door and use an extravagant key conveniently left under a little welcome mat before crawling inside the cave -- where a giant golden sausage is prominently displayed. 

This is another one of those moments where I notice how much Shia LaBeouf and Tom Virtue actually look like father and son. Also... as a critically thinking child, I always thought “how the hell does this cave even exist? It’s not like it’s under the basement. The layout literally makes it just another room next to the basement. So that entire cave, with a ridiculously tall ceiling, would need to fit under a section of their house. Improbable.” It sucks not being able to suspend reality sometimes. 

They approach the sausage and realize it might be booby-trapped. So they end up pulling an Indiana Jones. They even have Louis say, “I saw this in a movie once... You know what we need? A counterweight or something!” Slick. 

But also like the famous Indy scene, the cave starts to collapse. Steve says “.......is that an.... ominous rumble?” which I love. For whatever reason, Steve runs away but Louis stays still for a ridiculous amount of time. In fact, just long enough for the ground to break and leave a giant gap between them. Louis makes an (iconic) jump for it: 

Unfortunately, he drops the sausage once he reaches the other side and it falls down the gap into the great unknown. This makes me so incredibly frustrated every time, lol. But, they couldn’t exactly let the Stevens family become millionaires right? 

And that’s it!! The main plot of this episode was never one of my personal favorites, but it definitely gets a whole lot of iconic points. As I mentioned at the beginning, this is a zany Season 3 plot, which have always been a lil difficult for me to get into. But there’s no denying that Louis’ jump is hilarious and the whole idea for this episode, including the title, is golden (no pun intended.) Not to mention this is yet another episode that eerily predicted Shia LaBeouf’s future. We all know he went on to star in Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Say what you will about that movie.. but... He was in it. Which marks another strange parallel between Louis and Shia tbh.

And of course, I absolutely adore the Ren/Larry subplot. It’s like, THE episode to convince you that a romance between the two of them should’ve happened. It’s just great honestly. 

Thanks for reading! Do you have any thoughts on this super memorable episode? Sound off below please! (Seriously, getting one little comment on here makes my day and reassures me that I’m not talking to myself lol) 

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[notfinebutfine]

My very codependent fairytale

Once upon a time there was a kingdom called Sassonia and it was populated by three different races, the Humans, the Boulder Folk and the Ethereals, all coexisting peacefully despite their differences and even falling in love with one another. Well, for the most part Humans would keep their affections within their own kind, but the Boulder Folk were invariably drawn by the Ethereal people. See, heavy stone people were built to see themselves as better than their peers and could not witness attractive qualities in Boulder Folk other than their own selves. Proud and superior to everyone around them, they would become endlessly fascinated by the light and frivolous energy of the Ethereal people. Once paired, the heaviness of their rock solid bodies would be alleviated by their weightless soulmate, which felt oh so good! So the Boulders figured out, best to hold onto your air partner really tight; after all it wasn’t unheard of the Ethereal spouses to float away  in the middle of the night if not thoroughly guarded. In these unions children would often be borne. If the child took after the Ethereal mother or father it was a blessing, however, if the baby was born a Boulder baby, their Boulder parent would rage with discontent. After all Boulders knew that other Boulders were too ugly, too clumsy, too heavy, and too stonehearted. A Boulder just could never bring himself learn to love another Boulder, not even if it was their own little one. An Ethereal had no such worry and would shower their family with love and care whether the baby was an air baby or a rock baby. On and on the cycle of life would go just like that. And the heavy Boulders would seek out their Ethereal mates, and hold on very tight onto them lest the Ethereal float away, which (as we know) would happen every now and again.

One rainy day a high-ranking Boulder Kin Officer set out of his family home in the Sassonian Capital to find himself a bride. His mother wished him well, “Get out of my sight already,Petrus, honestly if you were a boulderwoman you’d long be a spinster by now!”, and gave him a decisive pat (or a push perhaps) on the back. The young Boulder travelled long and far and wide in many directions, but couldn’t find the right girl. After 6 years on the road his search came to an end. Just as he reached the Edgelands of Sassonia, and was about give up on finding the right girl, she appeared. A true Ethereal, she was as beautiful as a lake spirit, as young and fresh as the gentle rose bud heralding the warmth of May. Her eyes met his, and in an instant he knew that she’s the one he’d marry. Although they didn’t speak the same dialect, they found out a great deal about each other within days. The girl’s name was Hope and she’d agreed to marry Petrus and move to the capital or even the edge of the world itself. So the young couple, besotted with each other, moved back to the chief city of their land to live happily ever after.

The end. 

Not really.

Did you really think this was the end? Alas, the young lovers' troubles have only just begun.

Petrus was over the moon with his new wife. No sooner they arrived to the capital Petrus took Hope to his mother’s house and beaming with excitement introduced her. “Wasn’t there anything uglier where you got her from? This will never fly.” his mother declared looking Hope up and down. Determined to be happy with or without the maternal blessing the young couple decided to have a child, a child that would prove everyone who had ever doubted their union wrong, a beautiful soft pink air baby. The boulder father was delighted when he was presented with a Cherub named Petra, after him. Petra was a delightful little girl, she almost never cried, she was clever and obedient, a joy to show and share. Even Petrus’ mother seemed to love Petra. Why wouldn’t she? Petra was nothing like her disappointing ugly son, who paired with a foreign weakling from borderlands. Petra was a shining diamond in her family crown. There was a secret to her though, a secret that only her Ethereal mother knew of, and the one she could never reveal. Unlike babies born in Sassonia before her, Petra didn’t take entirely after her Ethereal mother; Petra's belly was rock solid. Her innards contained a secret. She was a Boulder and an Ethereal at the same time. Hope decided that the secret had to remain concealed from everyone, Petra included, lest Sassonians outed her as a freak or, worse still, her father, repulsed by another boulder person in his family, disowned the hybrid daughter.

So they went on. And life went on. And Petrus held tightly onto Hope every waking hour of every day. He knew that the tighter his grip was, the lighter he felt, and the more his wife knew he loved her. He wasn’t always sure how to express his appreciation (his mother would not allow such frivolities to fly) and clumsily offered his tenderness by relieving his wife from any work or any worries other than the joyful burden of family rearing. The more he helped the more his wife grew restless and unhappy, unheard of among the Ethereal people! Hope went onto hiding yet another unnatural secret. So Petrus, Hope and their daughter went on, and time went by, until one day Hope flew away. Petrus blamed himself for not holding onto his beloved tight enough, little Petra blamed herself. The Boulfer officer looked at his daughter and saw just how much she looked like her departed mother. He knew that he had to hold this love even tighter in order not to lose what’s dear to him, unaware of clasping a Chimera. Little Petra, none the wiser, grew to become a fair young maiden, charming and clever. She looked after her bereft father best she could, she cleaned, and she cooked, and she offered a compassionate ear to ailing Petrus, who in turn became more reclusive and protective. Petra knew that the only way out of his tight grip was trickery.

One day Petra realised that she, now a woman, wanted a future outside of her father’s doting restraints. She tricked her father into believing she went onto a short trip and she’d certainly be back in no time. Her exact riddle I must not reveal, but Petra never made it back to her stomping grounds again.

Out in the whole wide world Petra’s eyes were open to all the things and all the  people she’d not once seen before. She ate and drank voraciously, she kissed passionately, she sang and danced, insensitive of her own uniqueness. The trait that made her unlike any other Etheral girl in the kingdom. Her stone-heavy core.

Petra’s hunt for love went fruitless. Every boulder man she met would be fascinated with her ethereal looks at first but in time repulsed by her character so mismatched with Petra's looks. Similarly Petra noticed a sinking feeling in the pits of her stomach every time a boulder suitor got close to her. Petra’s every attempt at finding her happily ever after got dashed; her stone guts tying themselves in most painful of the knots each and every time. Unaware of her Boulder nature, Petra sought out Boulders to only be offended by their very essence. Regretfully Ethereals like herself were just not her type. And she grew weary of looking.

Petra’s only option was to seek advice of a powerful wizard.  So she found one in Sassonian Loot classifieds (yes, that easy). The wizard saw that Petra had a duality about her. A secret so deep that she had no view of it. Spell after spell, the wizard eased Petra into seeing her stone cold, rock hard tummy, he taught her how to use her gift, how to be both soft and vivacious, and hard and determined. The wizard told Petra that she didn’t have to be a Boulder Kin or an Ethereal Maiden, she was only a Human after all. A Human! Petra now had to learn how to be a human.

She foulght many battles, travelled to many lands, and met different people. She had to listen to the people and listen to herself, even when the Zephyr was whistling into her ears and raucous stones deafened her senses, she listened to Humans, she took lessons from them. At once Petra build a little cottage on top of a hill where she could be undisturbed. She’d spend many a happy day making it her home, making, building, mending, and cooking for no one but herself. She’d delight in gathering fruits and berries from the woods near her cottage and talking to every cat she met. Cats behave arrogantly just like the Boulder people, but that didn’t hurt Petra’s feelings – she knew cats couldn’t help themselves and that they were full of rocks. (That’s why they are so tired and sleepy all the time.)

Petra was happy. Truly happy. So much so, that she decided that love interest was not worth bothering over, not if it detracted from her fulfilled contentment. One day, the wise wizard, her old mentor appeared in a cloud of iridescent smoke for the last time, to reveal his wisdom to her. “Go and find someone who matches this happiness of yours”, and puff he went. It took Petra a while to understand wizard’s last counsel, but she went out into the wide world yet again to find her match. Her soul mate, who went by the name Balfour, happened to look for someone at that very same time. He was a fine looking, kind and wise young man, who didn't wince at the stones protruding from Petra’s midriff but instead kissed them tenderly until they revealed to be diamonds. So together Petra and Balfour shared happiness and multiplied it, they cooked, and cleaned, and mended things together, and scratched cats’ “underchins” and dogs’ “behindears”, and loved each other more and more each day.

The end? Not really. It’s just a beginning of another story.

[fictrashheap]

Dancing with the Devil (Unedited)

Sometimes good by itself cannot defeat darkness. And sometimes it is necessary to fight evil with evil in order to save the world. Jack discovers this and more in his tenuous alliance with Aku. 

Chapter 21

The wizard was suddenly quiet, pinned beneath Jack's soulful gaze. What was the samurai thinking? Why couldn't he discover what the samurai was thinking? He was simply a soft little mortal creature hardly worth the effort of manipulating to fulfill his own agenda, yet there was something more to it then that—an infuriating inability for him to fully comprehend his own pawn. It was maddening and intriguing and each sentiment served to bolster the other until Aku found it difficult to even look at his samurai nemesis without the pendulum continually swinging from anger to curiosity. The samurai's father had been a self-righteous little wretch, but the samurai himself was different, of a harder and more insolent ilk than his sire. Audacity, that's the word he was looking for. His nemesis possessed an outright audacity and it drove him into a fine rage each time he had to face it. No mortal had ever been so audacious in his presence.

Only the samurai dared his wrath. Only the samurai could—  

The sudden slap of cold against Aku's face startled him and he jerked his head back in a mixture of indignation and bewilderment. His scarf unravelled with the abruptness of his retreat and hung limply in Jack's hand, only moved by a teasing breath of wind to fill the ensuing silence with the occasional flutter of clothing. The samurai's fingers, calloused from years of swordsmanship, lightly grazed his exposed throat and settled under the ridge of his helmet to tilt his head back into a vulnerable alignment with Jack's face. The press of lips dispelled any discomfort from the cold, now unimpeded by any protective demon aura.  

Aku inhaled deeply as he pulled away, furious at himself for being caught so badly off-guard. "Gods flay your miserable hide, samurai," he breathed in a low rumble and watched with detachment as every word condensed in the chilly morning air. "Even after all that I have said you still possess the insolence to defy my prophecy?" The demon tightened his hands into wrathful fists, angry at the samurai and himself and their situation in general.                

Jack didn't bat an eye when he caught Aku's wrist and with the absent ease of long familiarity he twisted the demon's arms behind his back and managed to pin his hands against his spine in one smooth, decisive motion. Aku only had the time to look surprised before the space between them vanished and any snide insults he would have made were swallowed up by astonished silence.

The wizard was completely surprised and realized it was the first time he had been in close proximity to any mortal before. From far away they appeared so clumsy and fragile with their flimsy bones and pitiful stature, but now their positions were reversed, and it was he who felt flimsy in comparison to the samurai's battle-hardened musculature, so unyielding after years of strife and hardship. For one strange moment he felt relaxed this way, utterly boneless, before the familiar anger reasserted itself.    

"How dare you!"  

"Why do you even pretend to be angry at this stage?" Jack asked, amused and genuinely puzzled. "It would seem redundant now, do you not think so?"

"I am angry! I am furious with you!" Aku curled one side of his lip and turned away to regard the fortress before him with stoic contempt. "Stop wasting time, samurai, those Celts hunger for demon blood and I intend to answer their insolence." He ascended up the path with squared shoulders.

Jack followed, hands hidden within the folds of his sleeves. He reached out when he matched Aku's pace and clutched the demon's shoulder. "No," he said firmly and took the lead, "your arrogance will not get us killed." The warrior passed beneath the magnificent frosted arch and was greeted by a square courtyard with a pile of stones placed in its centre. Birds sang in the emptiness, echoed oddly in the uninhabited halls of the ancient fortress. Jack shivered as he stepped gingerly onto the packed earth, still solid even after countless ages of neglect. He could sense a presence in here, something unsaid resonated within each stone used to build this place. He couldn't discern what it was, but he could feel it intimately in his being. An acknowledgement.

Dagaz and Deirdre stood idly by the ruined stones and both looked up to watch them enter the fortress. The big Celt shook his head in disgust and spat into the snow while his wife remained motionless, her tiger eyes unreadable beneath the sharp edge of her helmet. Jack could tell from the silence behind him Aku was wary. "Where are these trees?" He asked and waved his left hand towards the pile of stone. "Surely they are not within this fortress?"

Both Celts shared a significant look and it was Deirdre who answered. "The druids believed trees held special powers. There are folks who tell of a series of tunnels below this fort built before the Romans ever stepped foot here. That's where the trees are. Underground. Have a care, these are not natural trees. This is where the Forest King was slain and whatever is still down there seethes over it. The earth has a long memory, lad. It's a dark place down there." Deidre made a strange little sigh. "Dagaz and I can't follow ya any further. We've shown you the way, but the way's closed to us. We'll stay here and guard your back."

"You shoulda listened to me, li'le warrior," the hunter rumbled darkly beneath the ghastly skull, "he will attract things down there in that place." They both appeared disappointed but resigned to Jack's decision. Something the samurai was grateful for. He nodded his head to them both for their assistance and approached the square's centre but always kept himself between Aku and Dagaz.

"I thank you both for all your assistance, you have helped me immeasurably." He bowed his head in gratitude.

"Do us a favour and don't die," Deirdre muttered gruffly with forced nonchalance.

"Aye, it would make a good story over a pint," Dagaz added and swung his hammer over his shoulder. "It would be a shame if you took such a good tellin with you into the afterlife."

Jack's scowl gave way to a weary smile. "I will try." He bowed again but it was wasted upon the two Celts, who swarmed him with caution and good-natured admonitions. "Please," he pulled away from their unbridled affection, "how do I enter such a place?"

Deirdre pursed her lips, but her eyes had quickened. In her armour she appeared far more dangerous than her husband. "There's a hidden entrance about. Tis a cursed place, Jack, I won't lie to ya. It's damned and dark beneath these stones." She cast a complex glance at Dagaz. "Light a torch here and the hate of this place will eat ya alive. The Forest King was loved and whatever grows underneath isn't forgiving."

"Here," Dagaz lifted his enormous hammer and walked toward a particularly ornate arch. "Tis here you'll need to go." Jack followed his mountainous bulk and squinted into the shady reaches of the fortress. There was a battered soldier carved into the wall. Hard eyes gazed out from the lost centuries, eyes that sized Jack up. At his scornful feet rested a thick slab of marble, rosy and rare. Imported from the balmy Mediterranean basin. A solid remnant of an empire lost to the pages of history. The samurai bent down and examined it for a hidden trigger. There was none. He looked to Dagaz for an explanation, but the big Celt was looking at Aku, features tight and inscrutable. These ruins unnerved him far more then the one they had passed before.

The samurai frowned but continued to examine the small square of marble. The Roman soldier gazed down at him, stony face imperial. There was an eerie knowledge to the carving, something that not quite stone. Jack knew magic when he saw it. He turned to Dagaz and spoke, if only to distract the big Celt's alarming gaze. "There is a spell here. If this place is cursed, should such a thing be broken?"

"No, there is no need to damage it." Deirdre muttered. "Dagaz knows the words." The hunter spared his wife a complex look, but he turned to Jack and nodded.

"Aye, I remember."

Aku shot the hunter a glance, green eyes narrow. "Only demons know such things."

"And such fine help you've been!" Dagaz shot back. The wizard scowled, but hadn't the strength for idle prattle. Deirdre put a hand on his arm and the big Celt's body lost some of its tension, but his eyes burned with malevolence. He and Aku regarded each other for a long time before Dagaz faced the stone soldier and began to speak.

Dagaz had a low, guttural voice, but the words that emerged from his mouth were elusive and deeply unsettling. Jack strained to discern individual meanings, but syllables and vowels thundered past him like a polluted waterfall. He glanced over to see Aku was motionless behind him, gaze intensely green and unblinking. Jack realized he was watching something. Colours—like in their link? The samurai frowned. Despite his experience accessing the demon world was beyond him.

For a moment if felt like the stone wouldn't yield to Dagaz. Then a teeth-chattering grind shook the ground beneath their feet and the soldier shattered. Jack ducked instinctively and threw up an arm to protect his eyes. Rock pelted his exposed skin and promised to leave welts. A cloying grey dust was thrown up as the wall collapsed and shrouded them in a thick coat of dust. It was impossible to see, but Jack could hear Aku's breathing.  

"I can smell her." The demon hissed into his ear.  

Jack blinked rapidly and waved the dust away from his face. "What?"

Aku made an agonized groan and leaned closer. "She's been here. A long, long time ago…but she has been here."

"What?"        

"Yes." The demon was trembling, expression torn between revulsion and pleasure. "She has grown very powerful…."

Jack recalled the chaotic encounter with Gaia; his own and the dizzying recollections of his nemesis. What would it be like to meet the demonic god who made you? He shuddered, but didn't have an answer. Instead he pulled Aku to his feet and waited for the dust to settle. Dagaz and Deirdre hadn't moved, but they were crouched with their back to the wall. The snow was littered with rocks and fine debris. It looked like a volcano had sent ash raining down the mountainside.    

"Jack?" Deirdre's voice was faint.

"Yes. We are here." The samurai approached the Celts as they struggled to their feet. After Aku's outburst, he could feel something welling up from the deep, dark hole in front of them. The Roman wall had fallen away to reveal older foundations. A wooden hatch had covered it once, but had long since rotten away. Only a rectangular hole remained. Despite the light, it remained a featureless void. Jack squinted and stepped closer. There was no evidence of stairs. Only a presence rose from the black depths. It went beyond Aku's at the Roman ruins they had passed earlier. A deep and immortalized malevolence regarded them from the bowels of the earth. Jack swallowed and looked away.

Dagaz stood at his side. It was impossible to know what he was thinking. "So?" He asked after a moment.

"How did you know those words?" Aku asked. His voice was soft and had a visible affect on Dagaz. The big Celt looked at him.

Without speaking he withdrew a golden medallion that had been hidden under the layers of clothing. It shone under the sunlight, the sapphires perched on its surface glowed as blue as Dagaz's eyes. The sight of it was like a physical blow. Jack gasped and took a step backward. The shape, the colour, the jewels, the despairing figures….

"How?" He demanded. "I saw that in my dream."

"Gaia found you." Aku spoke the samurai's thoughts. "She caught you sneaking into this place." He eyed the Celt's helmet and his eyes suddenly widened. "That skull is how she kept you here. She took your face."

"To use as her avatar," Jack added softly. Aku shot him an alarmed glance. "You told me she challenged the gods, but if she had a disguise…." His dark eyes met Dagaz's. "She could do what she wanted without divine interference."

Deirdre approached them, sword dangling against her thigh. Her bright tiger eyes were blank with astonishment. "I never asked," she muttered softly, "and you said it was an accident. You said…." Her husband glanced at her, eyes heavy with silent messages.  

"It was," Dagaz suddenly spoke and threw the medallion to the ground. Its round design shone eerily amongst the snow drifts. He stood still, blue eyes glowing, and suddenly looked at Jack. "I like you. I do. I even tried to warn you…but it's done." He pointed at the medallion shining beside his feet. "It's touched the earth, now. She will come. He's made sure of it." He pointed to Aku.  

An ominous shiver ran through the crumbling fortress. Aku's head jerked up as if someone had called his name. The cold air crackled with an unseen danger. Another tremor rumbled through the ruins, more violently than the last. Jack clutched his katana as a jet of light burst from the medallion to punch through the overcast. It shredded the clouds. The sky became an unearthly purple-black bowl. A new sort of cold descended as the sun withered to a grey pinprick.  

Jack struggled to understand. He tore his eyes away from the column of light and gazed at Aku. The wizard's eyes reflected the sky's eerie sheen, his expression blank. There was so much power before him, but he was helpless to use it. One of Gaia's talismans had more power than he had in his entire being. Jack could see the realization. Jack could feel its weight. Despair crept over them all like the deep purple sky. It felt like time was slowing down.

Dagaz released a hoarse shout and smashed his hammer against the medallion. Instead of breaking, its energies exploded through his weapon, up his arms, and through his body. The sudden heat was blistering. Jack stumbled back, momentarily blinded, and bumped into Aku. The wizard's body was cool and unyielding against his back. The fuhai's work was nearly done. Deirdre regarded everything from the opposite side of the clearing. Her golden eyes were nearly perfect circles as her husband was consumed by demonic energy. The magic forced its way beneath his skin, made it glow and pulse like the transparent flesh of a newborn bird.  

"What is happening?" Jack howled over the roar of wind and power. Aku made no reply, deaf to everything but Dagaz's transformation. His eyes were unblinking, mesmerized.  

And then there was only darkness. The sky above was a charred and starless black. Jack felt it pushing down on his shoulders, sucking the strength from his limbs. An invisible tide washed across the fortress, numbing and pervasive. Jack felt he was drowning. There was no sun, no light, no warmth. The sky was a  godless black bowl, emptied of life and light.