#i wish things didn't affect me so deeply but alas

[inkykeiji]

Not the same anon, but my absolute favourite characters are Xiao, Kaeya, and Scara/Wanderer. I think these characters are well written and have so much depth. I especially like how in certain quests that are personal to them, we get to see some of the more vulnerable sides of them and the stuff that happens in their heart

this makes sense!!! xiao i find super super super interesting. childe was my ultimate fave and i think if i did come back to genshin i’d come back for him and him only, just because it feels like he has a deeper significance to the story as a whole??? i still love him v much, i think he’ll always have a special place in my heart ehehe (*ﾉωﾉ)ᵉᵉᵏ

sometimes i get the urge to go back to my genshin blog and write just for him,,, but,, i dunnooooooo

[one-piece-aus]

Whumptober Day 20

Caesar x Reader Mermaid AU

Requested by @flossie12

"Caesar, please!" You begged, hugging octo-limbs. "The humans have changed, they're not the cruel barbarians they once were. You should see how much their colonies have advanced!"

"And risk being turned into calamari? Shorororo, yeah right!" Caesar laughed before getting out an odd hairbrush from a glass vial. "I'll keep collecting their things when they fall into the ocean."

"They wouldn't do that, at least not the man I met," you defended them, folding your arms and pouting.

"Did you even meet him?" Caesar questioned, turning to you with a quirked brow.

"Well- no-"

Yesterday you watched a male human play with his furry seal companion. You admire how much affection he expressed to the creature, you know humans finally adapted to caring about other lifeforms. On top of that, you wanted to explore the world above since it changed so much from the last few years you observed their life from the sea. You rambled about your desire to your friend Caesar when he mentioned he probably had a way you could adventure up there, but he tried to backtrack when you perked up at the idea.

"But he had a furry seal companion with him that he deeply cared about-"

"Dogs, they're called dogs," Caesar corrected while setting the odd brush next to the large flat seashell.

"Dawgs? How do you know?" You inquired, watching the purple octo-man scoop shrimp and oysters from his cauldron onto the seashell.

"I've spent my fair share of time up on the surface to conduct research for my experiments, my dear." Caesar set the cauldron down and swam back to where the seashell with the cooked creatures. "I've learned about their things and more. It is not a place for merfolk to go, especially since most of them believe my nature is cruel." With that, he used the brush to stab one of the shrimp and ate it-

"Oh, that's a mini trident!"

"The humans call it a fork."

"Oh..."

You watched him as he ate the cooked creatures, this being one of the reasons other merfolk thought Caesar was cruel, though did not understand why. To you, your friend simply wanted to eat different things in different ways. You frowned, wishing the others could accept your friend for his strange mannerisms, but alas he acted "too human". Wait-

A mischievous smile wormed it's way onto your lips. "Caesar, I find myself comfortable around your nature, and I enjoy your company."

Caesar felt his cheeks start to glow red. It didn't help that you began to twirl his hair between your fingers, an affectionate habit you had.

"Sooooo, therefore I should be fine around the humans, right?" You believed your logic made sense.

Caesar sighed and brushed your hands away from his hair. "If this is your idea of making me give in, it won't work. I've seen what they do up there, [Y/n], you'll regret going up there and walk the same surface they do. Not even I want to go back there. As tempting as it is to gather their newest items, it's not worth it for me."

Caesar huffed, grabbing the flat seashell and mini tri- fork before swimming over and dropping them into a bubbly hole. You hummed to yourself, racking your brain for another approach.

"What if you sent me up there to gather those items for you?" You suggested. "I get to explore the surface world and you get new stuff without the hassle of going up there yourself."

"Even if I were to agree, I don't know how the potion would affect you. It took me months to perfect the potion for myself, but there's no telling what it'd do to you since our anatomies are different."

"Come on C.C. it can't be that drastic of a difference, we're basically the same species."

Caesar glanced over your form, the major difference between the two of you is the fact you were female and had a fishtail, whereas he was male and had octopus limbs. He could also go on about the micro things that differed you apart, though he knew that'd bore you.

"Alright, fine, wait here." Caesar went to another room and grabbed a glass bottle. Returning, unsurprised that you beamed with glee. He almost smiled if not for his worry about what may happen to you but it seems you will only learn the hard way. "Follow me."

He led you out of his cavern and swam to the shallow waters near the human's shores. He turned to you and presented the potion you desired.

"When you take this, your tail will be replaced with human legs, you won't be able to breathe underwater either so you'll need to surface and ahead to shore," he instructed.

"Got it." You grabbed the glass bottle.

"One more thing." Caesar reached into his pocket and handed you a signal seashell. "Every week I expect you to call me and deliver human goods to me, you can also use it to ask for me to bring you home if you so desire."

"Yeah, yeah." You took the seashell and put it into your sash bag.

"Hmph." Caesar turned to leave when you hugged him from behind, catching him off guard.

"Thank you, Caesar, I mean it." You nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

Wariness and guilt ruined Caesar's internal bliss, uncertain of what will happen to you. Though he savoured the moment nonetheless.

Four weeks had gone by since that day, and he hasn't seen you.

You kept your end of the bargain. He'd hear the seashell call but when he went to the shore, Caesar would only find a pile of human junk with a note for him. It frustrated him, why haven't you talked to him yet? Surely you wanted to ramble about the things you've seen to him, it's something you always do when you find something exciting. No matter, Caesar returned home carrying the items in a bag and proceeded to shift through them to see what held value to him. Soon it became mindless routine to him, and that's when he began to notice how quiet his life became. 

Months have passed by now, he hardly looked at what you gave him, tossing the bag in a corner full of junk. The only reason he bothered to collect them at this point is to tell you he still came. He ceased caring about these objects long ago, they will never be able to make up for your absence.

Hope had started packing up to leave Caesar. It's been ages now since he's seen your face, let alone heard your voice. He has begun thinking you loved your human life and would never want to return. Acceptance will be taking Hope's place, acceptance that his heart will be gone forever. Until he heard it.

The seashell call early in the week.

He scrambled to the surface, carrying the potion that'd turn you back. Breaking through the water, he scanned the area in search of you when he spotted you at the sandy beach smiling and waving him over.

"[Y/n], I was beginning to think I'd never see you again," he said once he neared you. "How come you never cared to see me all this time?"

Your smile faded, replaced with gloom. You point to your throat. Caesar tilts his head puzzled by what you meant to communicate with him. Why not use your words? He watched your lips move with no voice flowing out, only then did the pieces fall into place.

He said no more, opening his arms to embrace you and giving you the potion. Your tail grew back, alas your voice is still gone. He guided you to his home, a frown present on his face as he observed your gloomy self.

When you settle down, he gives you gel and some seashells for you to write with. You informed him of your time on the surface as a mute human, and while there were glimpses of your once starry demeanour, ultimately they were all washed away when you wrote about how you unveiled human's cruel nature. Just as you wrote the words "You were right", Caesar stopped you and held you close, telling you not to stress over it. 

Tears bubbled from your eyes into the ocean and you sobbed in his chest. Caesar gently stroked your hair, calming you the best he could while he tried to tame his own growing resentment toward humans. Times may change, but people never do. He'll make them regret what they did to you.

Tags: @bookandyarndragon @roseoftrafalgar

[fifteenth-entity]

top 5 books you wish you could have written yourself because they have wasted potential™

OH. OH BOY. OHHHH BOY. YOU HAVE OPENED PANDORAS BOX. I'm about to make a few people angry here.

THE ATLAS SIX Notice how I emboldened, italicized, and capitalized the book title? THAT'S BECAUSE THIS STORY IS IN NEED OF SOME MAJOR TLC. I'm convinced this author hates like 1/3rd of her cast at least and is writing this story for like 2 characters, but the story wouldn't work with just them two because they are the most insufferable people on the planet with so much wasted potential. Anyway, personal greivances aside, I won't say the plot had potential, cuz there is no plot. There is potential for A plot, but there is no Plot itself. The magic system.... is barely there. There is magic there, yes, but it's less of a system and more of a buzzword in order for Olivie Blake to give her characters plot armor under the guise of "Why?" "Magic". The Dark Academia? Nonexistent. There's nothing Dark or Academic about this book. They do some Intellectual stuff, sure, but it's not academic (new hypothesis: Olivie Blake has never been to college). And the characters. Ohhh the characters. All of them, ALLLL of them, all 9 of them, have way more potential, but no, Olivie Blake would rahter write thinly veiled smut for 9 people than make good characters. A lot of characters could use some love from the author, but I think the biggest offender here is Tristan Caine. Like this guy has so much potential and utilizes none of it. Also he's super inconsistent as a character in favor of... Threesomes and magical condoms. Great writing. Also this is the only story out of this roster that made me so angry I wrote 3 fix it fics for it.

Less Read the premise of the story. Read the synopsis. Formulate your opinions. NOW DISMANTLE THEM CUZ THAT'S NOT WHAT FUCKING HAPPENS IN THE BOOK. Also Arthur Less is such a cunt, I hate him so much, I'd gladly rewrite the entire book with a different protagonist while strictly following the synopsis of the book. Enough said.

To Kill a Mockingbird This one is gonna rattle some people but hear me out: To Kill a Mockingbird should have been focused on sexism, misogyny, homophobia and feminism rather than racism. As a story itself, I didn't like it, but there was shit there to work with for the not racist stuff. I think it would've offered more to society if it focused on those, because Scout DOES mention offhandedly how deeply those issues affect her. But alas.

The Unravelling Oh my god I hated this book. See, the thing about this book is... it's fine as a historical fiction story. It works. It's lackluster, but I just don't think it's a good story worth saving as a historical work. Now, this book was advertised to me as a fantasy. It is not a fantasy. BUT, the potential this story has as a fantasy is a goldmine so deep and fruitful the British would try to colonize it before you could even fucking blink. Buuuuut it's not that so, womp womp.

The Shadow and Bone trilogy There's not a lot I would rewrite about this book. The plot itself was fine and the characters where... there, for sure. What I think warrants the most major rehauls is the magic system and the romance. There's a very basic idea there for a magic system that, once you think about it a little more, is less a nice neat box with a bow, and more the contents of a cat's stomach hacked right up onto your doorstep. Nothing to speak of the character relationships, I don't understand how half these people are alive because they should've been dead by now with how much they hate each other. The pacing and the characters themselves would be small pot holes I'd smooth over while rewriting but that's about it. Leigh Bardugo can be an amazing writer when she doesn't focus on magic, and focuses more on actual psychology, crime and politics (see: the Six of Crows duology, fucking amazing books) and her writing is very beautiful. But like... anything from the Grisha trilogy to the Nikolai duology isn't her best work. ... I've actually started rewriting the magic system myself. For... reasons. Wink wink nudge nudge

Honorable mentions: Interview with the Vampire, ALL of Harry Potter I won't dwell much on these two, but here goes: IwtV has a great premise and concept, but Anne Rice is a little too crazed with sexual taboos (see: emotional incest and pedophilia) in order to write an actually compelling story. Also the fact that she's obsessed with sexual taboos and features two very homoerotic vampires leads me to suspect she sees homosexuality as taboo as well and not as something morally innocuous which... yikes! Anyway I'd just make it gay(er) and move on. Harry Potter: Too many character deaths to inconvenience Harry, aside from the obvious (racism of all kinds, homophobia, transphobia and fatphobia). Also a few fix its here and there. Otherwise it passes. Harry Potter is trans and gay <3

[thatblondeperson]

If Steph had post partum depression after having her and Tim's first kids how do you think Tim would help her through it?

I'll see this and do you one better, what if Steph got baby blues in addition to probably a period of depression after her pregnancy when she was fifteen?

Mind you, baby blues and postpartum depression are very different. Postpartum depression is very intense, and I don't think it would have been that severe for her. I don't think Steph would have been suicidal over what happened, I think she's better at picking herself back up than she's given credit for, even herself during that time.

Steph was obviously deeply affected by that pregnancy, and you can't tell me she didn't have trouble sleeping, or appetite issues, and time's when she would get overwhelmed with mood swings.

I can't imagine she hopped back into the Spoiler suit right away, obviously not given that she would need to heal from the cesarean and all. But even after that I think it would be hard at first. Jumping back into her life while she has to deal with the heaviness of wondering if her baby is okay. I think she would worry a bit, it's clear that she was still worrying on her deathbed after War Games. I think eventually Spoiler would become a bit of a healing mechanism, forcing her to get some fresh air and whatnot. Punching bad guys helps to ease the bad feelings, right?

Tim was there with with her for her whole pregnancy though, so you can't tell me that he wouldn't have been there to help her heal when he could. Just even offering someone for her to sit with or staying up late with her on the phone when she couldn't sleep. He'd maybe be a bit overwhelmed with the mood swings, but he would have experienced them during her pregnancy, so he's not completely ill-equipped for it.

I think he would be happy to have her back as Spoiler. Tim liked being able to share the hero gig with Steph, and while he'd let her take her time coming back, he's be thrilled to be in the field with her again. This is proven by the fact that it was after Steph's pregnancy that Crystal found out about Spoiler, and Steph was grounded and couldn't go on her "dates" with Tim anymore. He was bummed.

And this is the first thing he does when she shows back up in the suit.

Don't touch me, they're cute...

Even if he couldn't be there in person during baby blues and the whole time she was grounded afterwards, it was clear they would have stayed in touch via email and phone, and in my heart of hearts, I'd love to see him sneaking into her house to spend some time with her when she needed it. I'm sure he missed her. Part of her pregnancy and the time after, he was away from her for a long time. I'm sure that wouldn't have helped Steph's depression either, to not have her supportive boyfriend there to help her. It does appear that Crystal was a good help to her during that time at least, which is very sweet.

I do wish comics, if they decided to give Steph a teenage pregnancy, would have spent at least one issue discussing the aftermath for her but it's really just...tossed aside. Alas.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Behind Closed Doors

Keanu Reeves x OFC (A/n- And now, I shall make it complicated)

Masterlist

Warnings- Jealousy

Chapter 2 All In a Long Weekend

Saturday

That Saturday morning, breakfast had been done a tad earlier than usual, and afterwards, Emma had stayed back in the kitchen, packing a picnic while Keanu oversaw the children as they got ready for the day's beach trip. Matt and Poppy had been raving about their trip to Malibu for the past two weeks, asking every night before bed if they'd still be going. Each time, Emma had assured them that unless it rained, they were certainly going.

"You look excited," an older woman came up beside Emma, setting down some sodas into the cooler, just as Emma continued preparing sandwiches for the container that was set to be packed into the woven basket. She and Zelda, despite the fifteen or so years between them had become fast friends, always eager to help each other out when possible. The older woman was also sometimes keen of giving Emma little snippets of advice that she thought my be helpful; never go into Keanu's office when he had the door shut, don't give the kids ice pops inside and possibly the one that had saved her the most trouble, always check the allergy list that Keanu had stuck to the fridge before making the kids something new.

Beaming absently at her comment, Emma carried on with her task, making cheese and turkey sandwiches; a favorite among Keanu and his kids, "I am, it's been a while since I've been to the beach, and even if I'm still working, it's gonna be fun." Closing up the Tupperware, Emma set it in the basket, moving on to prepping snacks, just as Zelda started on some frozen treats for the sizable cooler. In retrospect, it might have seemed like a lot, but when you were having a day trip with kids, it was best to prepare for anything. "Plus, it'll be nice to spend some time together, just the four of us."

Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, Zelda paused for a minute, "Five dear," she corrected, a little shocked when Emma didn't understand what she meant.

Certainly, Keanu must have told her!

But really, he hadn't.

Just as Zelda was about to explain though, the sound of the front door opening and shutting, followed by a very loud, and an annoyingly exuberant; "Darling!" After that, it wasn't long before the sound of heels clicking against the floor drew nearer, and out of the long hallway emerged a woman, tall, blonde and just as famous as Keanu.

"Sweet-" Upon seeing the pair, the Miranda Riley, former Victoria Secret model and world famous actress, stopped in her tracks, scrunching her perfectly straight nose as if she'd smelt something terrible, "Oh," her made up face fell, "Its you; Zora and…….the new one."

A little annoyed by her obviously snooty behavior, Emma opened her mouth to speak up, "Actually it's-" Though, when Zelda grabbed her arm, squeezing warningly, she shut up immediately, sealing her lips tightly.

Though, it didn't really seem like any of it greatly affected Miranda, especially when Keanu jogged into the room from the other hall, still bare foot while his worn out t-shirt was soaked at the front, probably from herding the twins into a bath. "Mandy," he grinned, and Emma swore it was stiff and forced. Maybe it was just her imagination though, cause with barely any hesitation, Keanu was taking the woman in his arms, holding her in a more than friendly hug before planting a lengthy kiss on her deep, ruby lips, one of his hands reaching up to cup her face.

The world seemed to slow down as the entire scene unfolded before her; the way he held her, looked at her when they pulled away to speak. A soft, pained gasp seeped past her lips and Emma wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting when Miranda walked into the house, but she did know that the last thing she’d predicted was that it would hurt so much. Her lungs were set ablaze and a similar sensation prickled at her eyes. Rage, betrayal, jealousy, Emma couldn’t tell which it was, but she did know that she wanted to run out of the room and not have to face Keanu for the rest of the day. Hell, maybe even the rest of the month.

Slowly, as if she were just coming up from being submerged in an ice cold bath, Emma brought herself back to the moment, raising her gaze when Keanu sought to introduce them, “Mandy, you remember I told you about Emma, our new nanny.” That was what she was, the nanny; the woman who took care of his kids, nothing more. Even if quieter moments had suggested otherwise. The tension, the long stares and innocent touches that thrilled her nerves, they meant nothing to Keanu. “And Em, this is my girlfriend, Mandy.” Well that didn’t feel like a bullet to the chest at all.

“It’s nice to meet you,” the smile that she plastered on her face was probably the hardest one she’d ever managed, and when Emma offered her hand, it wasn’t difficult to miss the flash of disgust that crossed Miranda’s pale features. Never meet your heroes, they said. For as long as Emma had known herself, Miranda had been an icon in the fashion world, she was well connected, and had set most of the trends that Emma had her friends had desperately wanted to mimic in their teens. It was her, among other inspiring names in the fashion world that had prompted Emma to go to a design institute and not a conventional college. But right then, she might have been happier going back to a time where she’d never crossed paths with Miranda.

Hesitating before offering Emma a toothy, winning grin, Miranda took her hand, shaking quickly over the counter before letting it go again, “Mmm, yes, it's…….nice to meet you too, Emily.”

“Emma,” she corrected, having to bite her tongue so she wouldn’t say anything more. The last thing she’d want was to lose her job after telling off her boss’s out of touch bitch of a girlfriend.

“Right,” Miranda appraised her look, a bright blue sundress, raising an impressed brow, probably only complimenting her to appease Keanu, “Cute dress.”

Before Emma could speak up, Keanu interjected, “She looks lovely doesn’t she? Made it herself,” he didn’t seem remotely aware of the heaviness in the room, or the way Miranda clenched her jaw when another slew of praises for Emma left his lips, “She’s so talented, Poppy is already roping her into making princess dresses for Halloween,” he chuckled, shaking in his head.

After another minute spent gritting her teeth, Miranda sought to change the topic, clearly having had her fill of Keanu’s pride in his nanny, “Where are the little ones anyway? It's nearly ten, we’re going to be late.”

With that, Emma’s head snapped towards Zelda, who'd opted to finish the cooler and snacks in silence, so she wouldn’t have to endure any of the painstaking conversation, “She’s going?” She whispered when Keanu and Miranda weren’t looking, eyes wide and frenzied.

“Yeah,” she nodded, barely looking as Emma when she followed her to the fridge, while Keanu and Miranda spoke, or rather, canoodled in hushed tones, "I feel like I should have told you he has a girlfriend," Zelda paused, just after reaching for a half filled carton of strawberries.

"Ya think?" Emma hissed, glancing backwards at the couple, feeling her heart pinch at how lovey dovey they were. She could have sworn there was something between herself and Keanu. "How hard was it to say 'Hey Em, you know our boss has this girlfriend, and she's like, a total bitch.' What the hell does he even see in her anyway?"

"She's tall and gorgeous?" Zelda shrugged casually, "Look, I don't get it either, but he loves her, they've been together for almost two years and I think she's convinced him to go public by the end of this year." Her face fell at Emma's troubled expression, reaching out to rub her shoulder sympathetically, "I see the way you look at him, and if there's something between you two, then……and I don't mean this harshly at all, maybe you need to back down. Miranda, she's……she's not someone you want to mess with," sighing deeply, Zelda peered over to see if they were being overheard, "She gets what she wants, and right now, she wants Keanu and you don't want to be in her way."

Gritting her teeth, Emma pulled away harshly, "I don't know what the hell you're talking about," she squared her shoulders, "There's nothing between Keanu and I," maybe she was getting more defensive than she needed to be, but Emma didn't care. "I'm gonna go finish getting the twins ready," she announced loudly, stalking out of the room and down the hall, and hopefully, leaving behind whatever she'd started to feel for her boss.

As it turned out, Matt and Poppy had all but put their clothes on over their swimsuits, and they were so excited about going, that they got into their little summery outfits without fuss. Afterwards, tiny feet clad in colorful sandals, they raced each other downstairs, leaving Emma to collect their bags before she headed down.

She was walking towards the stairs, backpacks in hands, really just minding her own business, having just started to calm down after the whole Keanu/Miranda fiasco, when, just as she neared the door of Keanu's home office, she heard it. He was deep in conversation, and had unknowingly left the door just a sliver open, enough for her to catch on to some juicy bits. "I know mom," he sounded exasperated, and when she dared to peek in, Emma found that his back was to her, as he stood facing the window, one hand stuffed into the pocket of his jeans, "But I'm not getting any younger, what do you want me to do? Wait till I'm sixty?" He sighed heavily, shaking his head, "Matt and Poppy need a mother, and Miranda……" he trailed off, listening intently to what his mother had to say. Leaning closer, Emma wished she could be privy to the other end of the call, aching to hear what his mother thought about the succubus that he called a girlfriend. But alas, she'd have to settle for whatever she got.

After a few minutes had passed, Keanu spoke again, turning around, leaving Emma to dash for cover, though still within earshot. For a minute, she held her breath, awaiting the moment where Keanu would poke his head out the door and catch her eavesdropping. But it never came, and instead, he continued, "I think I'm going to do it tomorrow night, we're going to dinner, and the nanny will watch the kids. I have the ring already. I think she might like it."

Ring?

The sirens in Emma's head were going off so loudly that she barely registered his tone, the absence of excitement or joy, things that were usually there when someone was smitten enough to propose. There was too much going on in her head; the irrational fear of never having a chance with Keanu, the more rational fear that Miranda might become her boss too. Tuning out the rest of the conversation, not caring to hear anymore, Emma dragged herself towards the stairs, slinking down towards the kitchen, where she found Zelda entertaining the children.

“Everything okay?” She probed when Emma placed the bags on the counter, next to the cooler and picnic basket, her features still crestfallen.

“Yeah,” she mustered up a smile, inching closer to her friend, her voice dropping an octave, “I think Keanu’s going to propose to Miranda, like tomorrow night.”

“What?” Zelda’s eyes went wide, her jaw hanging slack, and she almost dropped the dishes she had just started putting into the cupboards, “How do you know that, did he tell you?”

“Tell her what?” Speak of the devil. Miranda startled them both, and for a second, Emma was worried that she’d overheard their conversation, though that too was short lived.

“Everyone ready?” Keanu strode into the room, and though Emma wanted to meet his gaze, she restrained herself, not even trying to respond, just going over to gather some of their things, her teary smile faltering when the kids excitedly started following her to the car.

At some point, Miranda had eased Keanu away from where they’d set up their picnic on the beach, urging him into a walk even though the kids had pleaded with him to stay and help them build sandcastles. Emma had taken his place, helping them with their little construction project, highly aware of how upset Poppy still was. “You okay Pop?”

The girl frowned, using her fragile fingers to sweep some hair out of her face, “I wish daddy would have stayed and built it with us,” she mumbled, dumping another bucket of sand to create segment of the castle, though doing it so harshly that the new section just crumbled, “He always leaves when aunt Mandy comes around.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” even if she didn’t like Miranda, if she was going to be Matt and Poppy’s step mother, Emma couldn’t go around bad mouthing her to them, “I’m sure he still spends time with you. And aunt Miranda seems really like you two.”

“Not as much as you,” that was Matt, his expression skewed by his dark mane falling over his face, “She’s always telling us to be quiet. And she’s so boring,” he stressed, lurching forward, only half interested in ranting about Miranda, still very invested in their sandcastle, “She almost made dad stop my swimming lessons.”

“What?” That time, it was a struggle to keep her annoyance at bay. Even if it was just one side, even if Matt couldn’t possibly know the entire truth, it was still enough to rile Emma up. How dare she? Matt was the best on his team! Taking a breath, Emma knew it was time to shift the conversation, and cheer the twins up before she said something that she’d regret, “You know what? Why don’t we give this a break? We can go to the water, have a splash war!”

“Yeah!” They jumped up immediately, barely giving Emma a minute to shimmy out of her sundress, revealing her simple, floral bikini before joining them in the water. It didn’t take long to lift their spirits, and before long, Matt and Poppy were teaming up to out splash Emma. Their gleeful giggles were music to her ears and she adored seeing their wide grins. They’d waited almost a month for that trip, they deserved to enjoy as much as they could, even if Miranda was going to take up most of Keanu’s time.

They probably spent hours past noon in the water, and not once did anyone’s smile falter. Emma gave them ice pops, and insisted that they have some water once or twice, though each time, they accepted without fuss, and she couldn’t tell if was the sugar from their snacks, or just how immersed they were in the games, but even when Keanu and Miranda returned near sunset, they didn’t show signs of tire.

“You guys having all the fun without me?” Keanu let go of Miranda’s hand, standing where the water would wash over his feet, pulling the sand back as it receded.

A pang of anger flared inside of her, making Emma want to remind Keanu that he was the one that left, but she suppressed it. A fight wouldn’t solve anything. She was so caught up in being annoyed with Keanu, that she hadn't noticed how dark his gaze had grown when his eyes fell on her, kneeling in the water, rivulets rolling off her tan skin, the top of her bathing suit pressing her breasts together, a generous amount of her cleavage spilling out voluptuously. “Well why don’t you join in?” She made herself laugh, and while Emma was hardly as much of an actor as the two A listers before her, she’d liked to think she managed pretty well.

“Sounds great,” he didn’t even seem to notice Emma’s irritation, bubbling beneath the surface. In a flash, he was pulling off his t-shirt, tossing it to the sand, getting into water wearing just his swim trunks, and as he drew closer, his cheerful tone faltered, probably realizing that being in the water with her wasn’t going to do him any favors, “Do you guys wanna play chicken fight?” Keanu turned to his kids, only to be met with excited nods, “And maybe Mandy wants to play too?” He turned to her, eyes somewhat hopeful, “And we can let Em have a break,” swallowing thickly.

“Oh, I…..” Miranda seemed perfectly out of her element, smoothing a hand over her stylish, white sundress, and then pushing up the dark tinted sunglasses, which formerly guarded crystal green orbs. It took a minute, but eventually, she conjured up a tight grin, “Chicken fight isn’t really my kind of game,” she laughed nonchalantly, “Besides, the water will ruin my hair. You should let Emily play, childish nonsense seems right up her alley.”

Subduing the urge to roll her eyes and fire a few obscenities towards Miranda, Emma took a breath, gazing between Keanu, who’d gone cold, and Miranda who’s wicked mirth was reflected in her defiant smile, “Like I said this morning, it’s just Emma. And that’s fine, I actually love childish nonsense, its way more fun than sitting on the sand like a……” stuck up bitch, “Boring grown up.”

Amused with her half hearted insult, Matt laughed loudly, while Poppy just giggled, already trying to get up on Emma’s shoulders. Fuming, Miranda turned on her heel, stomping off towards the mat, and it wasn’t long before the rest of them had forgotten the almost-spat, getting on with their game.

Monday

As usual, Emma was up early, preparing breakfast for everyone. It was just past seven am, and since Mondays didn’t promise cartoon reruns, the kids weren’t up yet. Instead, Zelda had come in earlier than usual, saying that she wanted to get a head start on the housework, but really just looking to gossip. They were in the kitchen together, preparing for hash browns, eggs and bacon, working over quiet chatter, “So…” Zelda nudged Emma’s shoulder with her own.

“So?” Emma chuckled, nudging her back, the comfy cotton of her robe brushing against the sleeve of Zelda’s shirt. She knew exactly what her friend was seeking, but truthfully, she didn’t know how Keanu’s proposal had gone. All she knew was that they’d left for dinner around seven, leaving her to make something for Matt and Poppy, and hadn’t returned until the twins had fallen asleep and Emma had stolen away to her room.

“So, is the wicked witch of the west coast going to be out new boss or not?” Zelda teased, continuing with helping Emma shred some potatoes.

“Honestly-” Emma cut herself off when Keanu walked in, sans shirt and with low riding sweat pants. His hair was a mess, and his good morning was punctuated by a tired yawn. "Good morning Keanu," both women greeted in unison, sharing a look.

They both wanted to know so badly that the itch was almost physical, but it wasn't like they could simply ask. With their one question would come a dozen more from Keanu. Though, as faith would have it, the truth they were seeking wasn't far behind a still half asleep Mr. Reeves.

"Darling," an all too familiar voice purred, shuffling into the kitchen, her blonde hair held up in a loose ponytail and her elegant frame wrapped up in fine satin. Unlike Keanu, Miranda didn't even bother with pleasantries, going straight over to where he stood at the integrated refrigerator, holding him in a hug from behind, strategically angling her left hand so the large rock on her finger would be on full display.

"Still wanna know?" Emma whispered near Zelda's ear, their heads almost touching.

Scoffing, Zelda seemed caught between a sarcastic smirk and a frown, "Not any more."

And because the world was such a cruel place and open wounds would be pointless without a little salt, Miranda abruptly turned to them. "Ladies! Have you two seen my ring?" Without warning she thrust her hand towards them, making the engagement ring on her finger hard to avoid, "Gorgeous right? Keke loves to spoil me," her words were perfectly gag worthy and Emma was finding it difficult to keep down the half cup of coffee she'd had. It wasn't like she was opposed to love or affection or anything, she'd really liked to think of herself as well adjusted in that way, but during the one weekend she'd spent around Miranda, her affections for Keanu always seemed so dramatic that it was nothing short of an elaborate farce.

Yet, it wasn't like she had much of a choice when it came to going forward and having to endure it. Jobs in the fashion world were hard to come by and freelancing would hardly be enough to cover living expenses. So, alas, she'd have to put up with Miranda for a quite while to come. "Don't worry Emily," Emma hadn't even realized she'd zoned out until Miranda called her by the wrong name, for probably the dozenth time. At her next words, Miranda's voice dropped below what Keanu could hear, and there was a wicked glimmer in her gaze, "You're pretty enough, I'm sure you can trick a man into buying you a nice ring. Might not be as many carats, but you'll manage."

That little quip was definitely pay back for Saturday. Fuming, Emma longed to just let her have it, but she was growing so versed in holding her tongue that she did again, deciding right then and there that as much as she loved the kids, she was wholly willing to take the next sustaining job as long as Miranda was in the picture.

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

[joiedecombat]

Continuing in the vein of common Pride and Prejudice AU plots: Elizabeth marries someone else!

A lot of the time this is just to set her up as a wealthy widow of a peer and turn the disparity of social standing on its head, but sometimes the writers are out for blood.

Prime example: The Events at Branxbourne by Caitlin Williams.

This is The Worst Timeline. Okay, maybe Amy D'Orazio's Mysteries of Pemberley has it beat for overall bleakness, but Mysteries is a Gothic, they're supposed to be bleak. I'm not sure what Branxbourne's excuse is.

By the beginning of this book, almost the entire cast is miserable. Jane died of a fever shortly after Elizabeth's sojourn in Kent. Mr Bennet had what appears to have been a stroke, and though he survived it's left him physically impaired. Charles Bingley doesn't speak to Darcy any more since Jane's death; Darcy has spent the last several years burying himself in Derbyshire while Georgiana, in the care of her Fitzwilliam relatives in London, has fallen in with the bad influences of the shallow fashionable set. Colonel Fitzwilliam married Anne de Bourgh and didn't realize how much he loved her until she died giving birth to his son. And Elizabeth is married to an Earl who is mentally ill, abusive, deeply in debt and might have murdered his last wife.

GOOD TIMES. The only characters doing at all well for themselves are, oddly enough, Lydia and Wickham... but not with each other.

Naturally things only get worse from there once Darcy crosses Elizabeth's path again for the first time in years and starts to realize just how bad a situation that she's in.

"Do not cry, Elizabeth. I could bear anything but that."

She trembles. Looking about, seeing we are half-hidden by the trees and that there is no one around, I reach out and press her hand, squeeze her fingers tightly, but only for a moment. "My love, do not cry."

"Your love. Is that what I am?"

"Can I be plainer?"

"Yes, please." She surprises me with a broad smile. "Please do be very plain about it."

"You are my love," I tell her. "My only love, till the end of time. Whatever else my happen, and we may expect dark days ahead, never doubt that in this moment, beneath this perfect, blue sky, on this warm September day, you are loved as no other woman has ever been loved before. You are loved for all that you are, for what you once were, for all you will come to be."

"Mr Darcy, if only you had not once hidden your talent for compliments so well, then we might not be in this terrible mess."

I love a good Darcy To The Rescue story as much as anybody, but this one's A Lot. You've gotta be in a mood to wallow in the melodrama, to want to see these characters pushed to their limits by a situation that can't be endured and which their society's laws and mores offer no palatable solution for.

The happy ending comes as it should, but the trip there is an especially rough ride with little comic relief.

Content warning: domestic abuse, depiction of mental illness, infidelity (emotional if not physical), angst, first person present tense narration.

"If you, too, would enter into this marriage for practical reasons, I would be more easy with the notion. Then we would give to each other only what was received."

He smiled faintly. "Alas, my desire to marry you is formed by the wishes of my heart, not my head, so I cannot oblige you."

"If I did feel myself forming a more romantic attachment, I would welcome it. I just want you to understand that I do not know whether it will occur. It must be yours to decide whether or not you can be in an unequal marriage."

"I have considered it," he admitted after a thoughtful pause. "I see how you loved your husband, and I did not expect to supplant that. I shall readily admit that I am a jealous man, and to know that your heart belongs to him is difficult for me to accept. However, my choice is for an unequal marriage no matter what we decide. Either I can be with you--the one I love--or I can marry another and, thus, be with one who might love me but whom I do not love. You see, just as your heart is for Henry, mine is for you. That will not change.

"So, fully apprehending your hesitation, I say yes, I do agree to a practical marriage with you, accepting whatever amount of affection you give to me because I cannot live without you."

Amy D'Orazio's The Best Part of Love, meanwhile, has Elizabeth already married and widowed by the time she meets Darcy. Her husband was murdered in a treasonous plot that required her to live incognito with her family in Hertfordshire for a couple of years, allowing Darcy to make his usual astonishingly bad first impression at the Meryton assembly and fall in love more or less at first sight.

Rather than Branxbourne's unrelenting angst, this book is a whole soap opera: unnecessarily complicated backstory, misunderstandings and mistaken identities, high emotion, a mystery, and a sharp plunge into acute misery in the third act when it turns out that Elizabeth's late husband might be considerably less dead than advertised, to the dismay of nearly everyone involved.

It's a very well-written soap opera, and worth reading if you're looking for that kind of emotional roller coaster.

The essence of the problem was that there was simply nothing he could do for the situation. He had never before been faced with a challenge for which some action could not be taken. He could neither buy anything nor persuade anyone, work at something nor study a topic, take himself away from his pain nor have the pain removed. He did not even have the comfort of despising someone. There was no one to despise, not even himself, for all had acted with honour and integrity and done the best they could with the hand they had been dealt. It was nothing more than a circumstance beyond anyone's control, and that made it insupportable.

After leaving him to wallow about in his despair for a fortnight, his cousins came for him as he had suspected they eventually would.

"Have you left your house at all, Darcy?" Fitzwilliam's face bore a look of vexing kindliness.

"What do you think--that I sit here all day pining for her?" he snapped.

"That is precisely what I think," Saye replied, tousling Darcy's hair as he walked by and then further compounding his sin by not even looking to see the angry scowl Darcy gave him.

This book also contains my favorite version ever of Colonel Fitzwilliam's older brother, here (as in all of the rest of D'Orazio's Pride and Prejudice fiction) named Viscount Saye and characterized as a languid, almost terminally unflappable dandy with very few social filters to speak of and absolutely no fucks to give. He's an affectionate cousin to Darcy and usually gleefully awful, and is a character I enjoy very much.

Content warning: very brief reference to suicidal thoughts, high melodrama.

[vamytas]

3. Are there any inactive muse(s) you wish to bring back? 8. Which Harry Potter house do you and your muses belong to? DIDN'T YOU ONCE MENTIONED SMTH ABOUT THIS.... 10. Favorite video game right now? 16. What is your favorite fanfiction(ivy)/au/let's pretend alex/milky/jago/canon npc thingie whatever involving your muses?

Question Time!

Are there any inactive muse(s) you wish to bring back?

Jago’s very lax at the moment because Here is my main stay... but I’ve deleted practically all my old inactive blogs because once I’m done for a good few months then that’s IT... THE END... then I’m off to slither across new horizons. Alex has purged all predecessors from any nostalgia mistaken for motivation to replay a muse... he satisfies. 

Which Harry Potter house do you and your muses belong to? DIDN’T YOU ONCE MENTIONED SMTH ABOUT THIS….

I HAVE INDEED, took Pottermore quiz for him and got Slytherin. Even his Ivermony House (American equivalent of Snogshorts) is Horned Serpent which ‘represents the mind’ and ‘favours scholars’... haven’t researched the other possibilities. Don’t really think Alex would do all that well in a boarding school of any kind... WHICH MAKES ME WONDER if JK considered the possibility of youth muggle subcultures infiltrating the wizarding world school...especially in late 70s... where are the punk wizards.... WAS SNAPE THE ONLY  TRUE TRAD GOTH??  Most importantly, the length of Alex’s wand is 14 1/4 inches.

As for me I don’t know for certain!! I’ve taken quizzes that have ranged from Gryffindor to Ravenclaw to Slytherin... what is the truth gif... Slytherin was the most recent so I guess.. I’m in the same house as him. I DON’T TAKE THES E categorisations seriously though. .. my boy can’t be boxed up and simplified by attributed house qualities of cunninglingus and canbition....or can he...................

Favorite video game right now?

I’m shit !!! At playing video gaymes because time is a valuable thing watch it fly by as the pendulum swing etc. My attention span hasn’t been taken by much lately, I borrowed Dishonored 2 from my sister but strayed... After uni assessments I want to replay Saints Row 4... because cockney accent... Alex can run around in some ARE YOU NASTY? type knickers.

So I guess I’d have to be predictable and say Bloodlines. Caters to me tastes and PC can have clubbers congregrate around them when they hit the dance floor. Mum watched me play it once when I hooked laptop up to TV screen, was deeply unsettled by the fella in Chinatown who sends you on errands for unconventional trinkets. I still retain the same enthusiasm 2 see Gary Golden and Ming Xiao...maybe if there was a route where you could LIVE and side with her that would be grand for Alex... alas...)     

What is your favorite fanfiction(ivy)/au/let's pretend alex/milky/jago/canon npc thingie whatever involving your muses? 

I deleted Ivy a couple months ago (apologies to Sid if you were burning to make Eddie at some point... they can be green in spirit...) and didn’t dedicate any interest into looking into fanfiction (although comic runs can technically be called fanfiction with swapping around writers so much...).

AU WISE Hmmmmm, don’t have many IN DETAIL because I focus on the HERE and NOW. Since Alex has eternity on his hands it’s a convenient excuse to just have plots and relationships  occur at different points in long lasting lifetime. But there is The End of All Things to consider, Gehenna AU would be a drastic amplification of less favourable traits in his personality/clan. HAD postulated a sabbat-slash-anti AU with @fulguritte but have not ventured downhill into the depths of that abyss... would need to give each more thought before deciding on a favourite per se.

I’d need to also... actually write specific Moments... to confirm favouritism for them. Alex and Molly’s Embrace is! a ceaselessly nagging scenario !! both drastically different yet both ‘accidental’... Also the original & initial revelation of affection in past (which includes Alex with a broken rib bone or two in a gutter and Molly kicking the ruffian perpetrators between legs... better dodge those steel toe-capped Doc Martens lads..). Would hopefully exemplify why it’s particularly easy to romanticize the past through written structure, wherein the Grand Scheme of their narrative spends much more time/emotive space/expresed poigancy dedicated to happy highlights.. rather than sinking into moments such as break-up with gratuitous detailings of depression (the aftermath was worse anyhow!!).

Jago’s would probably be his drowning.....again... need to think about him more...