#none of the other marriage candidates give me presents as nice as this

[crestfallencrest]

Based on true events in game that had me literally stop for a few minutes to process

[smeraldos]

Love by Daylight (1/2)

➸ characters: Seokjin x Reader

➸ genres: Sailor Moon!AU, fluff, sort of e2l

➸ tags: sly friends, petty enemies/secret crushes, running away from the mortifying ordeal of being known

➸ words: 2K+

➸ summary: The day you find out who your suave partner in saving the world is, you're absolutely, positively, without a doubt sure you'll be over the moon. You'll be so happy you'll think you're dreaming. Turns out you're right. You do think you're dreaming. Because this? This can't be real. You're being pranked. Someone, somewhere, is going to jump out and say you're on Candid Camera. (Please.)

>> PART 2

When the lights fade and the facades fall, this is what you’re left with: Tuxedo Mask without a mask, you without your moonlit glamor. Tux the civilian is handsome, you can tell, and this is it—the moment you’ve been waiting for.

He lifts his face.

The youma's words come rushing back: Let the truth be known, the city’s deepest secrets shown.

Tuxedo Mask is none other than Kim Seokjin.

Suddenly, you’re reminded of a crystalline city; people bowing before you; Seokjin taking your hand, your matching rings gleaming in the light. Was it a memory or a dream?

You stand there, dumbfounded, until Tux/Seokjin dons his mask and brushes past. “Come on, Sailor Moon,” he says, sensible enough to use your alias. “The coast is clear. We’ve got a fight to finish.”

☾

“Why does it have to be Seokjin?" You whine, collapsing into bed and disturbing your sleeping cat. (In your defense, he was on your pillow. Which you’ve told him numerous times not to lay down on because his fur would shed.) Luckily, Agust is acquainted with your dramatic side and simply gets up to move.

“Well, why do you have to be Sailor Moon?” He points out. “It could have been someone less bothersome.”

“Hey,” you retaliate. “You’re the one who came to me. You could have given anyone the Lunar Key.”

“I didn't have a choice.”

“What do you mean you didn’t? You could have walked away and picked someone better, just like that.”

He scoffs. “Not when it’s the Queen.”

“Queen-schmeen." You flop back onto your bed, the springs creaking in protest. "I bet Her Royal Highness is on her throne right now, all nice and comfy. She couldn't care less."

Agust doesn't reply.

At first, you think it's because you've won and nothing else can be said, but when the silence stretches on, you know something is off. You sit up to see Agust no longer curled into himself, but sitting. He stares out your window into the night, his normally keen eyes empty. "She's dead."

Judging by his somber tone, she'd meant a lot to him. "I'm sorry," you whisper.

Agust sighs. "No need to apologize, kid. She was your mother, after all."

"My mother?"

"Not now," he amends. "But she was a long time ago, when you were the princess of the moon and Seokjin the prince of the earth.”

☾

The next morning, you head to school on time.

Your mom—present day mom—was surprised to see you up early, and Jeongguk called you out like the bratty brother he was (wow, no morning run today?), but the truth was you couldn’t sleep.

Last night, Agust recounted your past, how the dark eclipsed the moon. Although the queen tried her best to protect the kingdom, it was to no avail. Seokjin died in the fray, and you fell shortly after, helpless to save your beloved. In the end, the queen sacrificed herself to give you and Seokjin another chance at love, her people another chance at happiness.

A chance to rebuild the Silver Millennium.

The thing was, you didn’t know if that was what you wanted. Not that you’d want the Dark Kingdom to reign, but you weren’t sure whether you wanted to rule in your mother’s stead. Or marry Seokjin. Past you might have wanted to, but the you now could barely stand him. And neither could he. Or so you thought. You’d gotten along just fine with Tuxedo Mask, even grown a crush, but that wasn’t enough to warrant a marriage.

“Hello? Veen to Selene*?” Someone nudges your shoulder, and with a start, you notice Mina looking at you in concern.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“Nothing yet, but it looks like you’ve got something on your mind. What’s up?”

You’re about to tell her when you see Seokjin approaching, his uniform blazer neatly pressed.

“Morning, ______,” Seokjin says. “Mina.”

“Morning,” you reply, ready for whatever biting remark he’d say next. But once Namjoon comes up, he leaves. That's it.

Even Mina, who hardly sees the two of you interact, notices. "That's the first time I've seen you guys polite. It's weird. What happened?"

After a discreet look around, you grab her by the elbow. “He's Tux,” you hiss, but Mina doesn’t look the least bit shocked. Her face breaks out into a giddy grin, like a child who’s finally tall enough to get on the big kid ride.

“You knew?” You ask, a little hurt she didn’t tell you.

She pouts, squishing your cheeks together. “Don’t be mad. You don't know how hard it was to keep it a secret.”

◑

You don't blame Mina, for the most part. It would have been better if you hadn’t known who Tuxedo Mask was, and vice versa. You felt like Cinderella running away from the ball, her beautiful dress giving way to rags and ratty shoes. If the prince caught up to her then, she’d probably be humiliated.

Just like you are now.

Tuxedo Mask has seen you at your most embarrassing moments, fighting to have the last word (or milkshake) as Seokjin, and also at your best, saving civilians with grace. You've only wanted him to see the best of you, for him to think of you as the perfect wonder-girl heroine everyone else saw you as, but he's seen almost every side. You don't know what he sees in you now, if anything. And frankly, you don't want to know.

"Have you ever thought that maybe he's thinking what you're thinking?" Mina asks. "You've seen all the good and bad in him, too."

"But it's different when he doesn't have a crush on Sailor Moon!" You say, exasperated.

"Oh, I wouldn’t be sure about that if I were you."

Seokjin thinking of your alter ego that way is embarrassing, but considering he's also Tuxedo Mask...now your face is red, you can feel it. Red as roses in bloom. "You're joking, right?"

"Why don't you wait and see," Mina replies, as cryptically as when she was Sailor V and you hadn't known any better. Having sympathy for you, she gives you a warm smile. "Don't stress out too much, Moon. You're amazing either way. Just talk to him."

◑

You think there's some reconnaissance to sort out first. When you walked into Crown Arcade and saw Seokjin talking to Jimin pretty intently, you didn’t want to interrupt...okay, who were you kidding? You chickened out.

But Jimin is his best friend, so he'll know how Seokjin feels the most, right? It's the next best alternative to actually speaking to Seokjin, which, well, you aren't ready for. Case in point: you've done the impossible and made yourself scarce. You aren’t about to break your streak now.

So the instant Seokjin leaves, you walk up to the counter. Jimin looks up from sprinkling a milkshake. "Hey. The usual?"

"Yeah, just double on the chocolate."

"You got it," he says, passing the drinks he finished making to a server. You watch him blend milk into ice cream, then reach over for a new cup to pour the mixture into later. It's all done with practiced ease, and you marvel at how quick he is, not to mention how beautiful the finished milkshake looks after. The chocolate is perfect, the whipped cream a cloud of snow drizzled with dark syrup.

Jimin slides it over with a grin. "Mademoiselle."

"Why, thank you," you say, digging in with gusto. This is exactly what "stressed is desserts spelled backwards," meant: Jimin's milkshakes never fail to kick your worries down a notch.

"Good?" He asks.

"Mhm," you mumble, more to your milkshake than to him, when the thought that you haven't paid yet crosses your mind. Oh gosh. You pull your purse onto your lap, but Jimin chuckles, stopping you.

"I've got it covered. Besides, I heard you weren't yourself lately."

"Really?"

He shrugs. "From the way you're devouring that, it's kind of hard to believe…"

You take an extra large mouthful to prove his point.

"But you only lay on the chocolate when you're bummed," he finishes, and you’d protest if you hadn’t made it a habit to drown your sorrows in his milkshakes. They were just too good to resist. Not to mention Jimin is a great listener. Your girls, although you love them, aren't always the best. You'd catch the moment they crossed over from attentive to "Is she done yet?" but with Jimin, you've never had that issue. Turns out you have a different one.

"I hate how perceptive you are."

He laughs. "You're just predictable."

"You know what? You can take back your milkshake and go back to work," you say in a fit of grumpiness, pushing the glass back to him.

"Are you sure you want me to do that?"

You meet him eye to eye. After a minute—a long, impressive minute might you add—you take it back. "Fine. What do you want to hear?"

"Anything you want to tell me. And if it's something you can't share, please tell someone you can. It's not great to keep things bottled up, trust me."

You sigh.

"Here's the deal," you begin, feeling a little weird telling your old crush about your new one, but marching through nevertheless, "I met someone on...online. He's nice and funny and understands me even though he's different. I just click with him, and eventually, I want to tell him I like him. The thing is, I don't really know who he is. We've been chatting on Discord and his profile picture is Tuxedo Mask, but he can't be Tuxedo Mask. Or maybe he is, who knows?"

Jimin laughs. If only he knew.

"Anywho," you continue, "I meet him and find out he's someone I actually know...but he's a pest. He always gets on my nerves and it's like he's a completely different person! I don't even know how that's possible, but apparently it is and it's just so frustrating."

Jimin doesn't speak for a while, which is fine by you. You take the time to jam spoonfuls of chocolate and cream into your mouth.

"You know," he finally says, amused, "that sounds a little like the plot to You've Got Mail."

"That isn't funny.” You huff. “Joe Fox was a jerk and I don't know why they played him off as charming."

"Isn't that what you think of the guy?"

"I never said he was a jerk."

"But you said he was a pest."

"That isn't the s—" You pull at your hair. "Ugh. I don't know anymore."

"Did you talk to him?"

"And what? Spill my complicated feelings?"

"No, just talk to him. You don't have to confess right now. Just air out the laundry and see where you guys are at. Chances are, if you're confused, then he's confused, too, and there's no way either of you can get out of it without talking to each other."

"I can't talk to him, Jimin. I avoided him for three weeks! He's going to hate me."

"He isn't," Jimin says firmly, and you wish you could have the same conviction. "Sure, he'll be upset, but if he's really someone who cares, he'll listen. Look, during that time you avoided him, did he try to reach out?"

"Well, I told him I didn't want to talk and he stopped asking."

"So he'll listen. If it turns out he hates you, give him a piece of your mind and I'll give you triple chocolate milkshakes on the house."

When he puts it like that, talking to Seokjin doesn't seem as dreadful. "You're not just saying that?"

"Have I ever said something I didn't mean?"

You get your answer when someone comes trudging in, holding up a bag from your go-to fast food joint. "Jimin! You better be grateful I drove all the way downtown to get you these burgers. Since when did you like ______'s favorite, anyways?"

"Since now," your traitor of a friend says. You glare at him, which he conveniently ignores.

"You're the best," he tells a surprised Seokjin, leaving with a pat on his shoulder. "Enjoy your meal!"

>> NEXT

...

note:

*Venus to Selene, like "Earth to [insert name]?" but replace Earth with Venus and [name] with Selene, Greek goddess of the moon

[dany-is-my-queen]

Born To Be Yours | Part II

Sansa Stark x Fem! Baratheon! Reader (Daenerys Targaryen x Fem! Baratheon! Reader eventually)

Season 1-8

Word Count: 1,795

Note: I’m back!!!

Part 1 here Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

“You shouldn’t interfere when it’s none of your business.” Joffrey was still angry with you.

“Don’t mess with the ladies and we’ll be in peace.” You calmly said.

“Always so honorable... the hero saving the day.” Your mother mocked.

“Why you say it like that, mother? I would do it over again, you are so heartless and extreme about little matters.” You rolled your eyes.

“You don’t care about your brother's honor. That’s the real reason you defended those pathetic girls.” She spat.

“I do care about him. It’s the other way around. You are a pampered kid. You should start acting more like a man, Joffrey.” And with that you left his room.

“May I come in, princess?” The sweet voice of the oldest Stark daughter rang. You were on just a pair of trousers, definitely not wearing proper clothes to be talking to her.

“Of course, my lady. Just give me a second, please.” You put on a dress. “Let her in.”

“I wanted to apologize for my earlier behavior. You saved my wolf’s life, I’ll be forever thankful, my princess.”

“It was the right thing to do. I would have preferred her to stay by your side, though.”

“She’ll find a new home. I hope she returns to the north, where she belongs.” You gave her a soothing smile. “Does prince Joffrey hates me?” She asked sadly.

“No no, he is just a bit... irritating and gets easily offended. But it’s not personal, my lady. You are promised to him so with time your relationship will evolve.”

“I hope so. I’ll leave you to enjoy your evening, my princess.”

“Lady Sansa, if you need someone to talk to you can always come to me. You and your sister. I pray for your little brother to wake up. She nodded.

“You are very kind.”

~~~~~~

“Did you found a suitable candidate up in the North, niece?” Uncle Renly asked with a droll voice.

“I met a boy... very good looking and a gentleman but he wasn’t my type. He’s the eldest son of Lord Eddard.”

“Sounds quite the man.”

“We didn’t have the chance to get closer so I’ll forget about him.” You might never see him again after all.

“Princess Y/N, what can I do for you?” The tall man greeted.

“I haven’t had the chance to thank you, my lord, for accepting to be the new hand. I know it was a difficult choice to make, leaving your home. My father really needs you. He lacks of loyal friends and I believe you’ll be very helpful around here.”

“Oh, I will do my best not to let Robert down.” He smiled.

“A raven came this morning. I- I forgot to deliver it earlier, my lord hand.” Maester Pycelle said with his usual stutter and left.

“Good news?”

“My Princess! I didn’t expect to see you.” A voice that didn’t please you stated.

“Lord Baelish.” You faked a perfect smile.

“Lord Stark, perhaps you’ll like to share the news with your wife.”

“She’s on Winterfell.”

“Is she?”

“I won’t tell my mother. Lord Baelish knows I can keep a secret. Can I join you?” The relation you had with Petyr was not the best. He informed you of things your parents won’t share with you. Despite that you never liked him nor his personality.

“Better not keep her waiting.” You reached his brothel unnoticed.

“I’ll talk to her when you’re done. I’m not a spy. I can be trusted but I prefer to stay out of your business, Lord Eddard.” And it was true. You had no interest in gossiping.

“Thank you.” They entered. Not before he took Baelish and throttle him suspecting this was a trick.

“Lady Catelyn.” You bowed your head.

“Princess Y/N, what a surprise...” She looked at you with dismay.

“It’s fine. I won’t tell a soul. I am glad to hear that little Bran is finally awake. And also, I wanted to let you know that I’ll keep your daughters safe. Now that you both are here I give you my word. My family is complicated and tends to have a reputation. I will look after Lady Sansa and Lady Arya, as long as I can, I promise.” Since the incident with the direwolves you had this enormous feeling of responsibility, deep down you knew their stay in King’s Landing won’t be as enjoyable as they thought. You hoped you were wrong. Prevention was a good idea.

“I will be in your debt, my princess. Knowing this gives me relief. It’s hard to find good people here in the capital.”

“It certainly is. Say hello to Lord Robb from me.” You wished her good travel home but sensed trouble in her.

~~~~~~

“Y/N! Want to spar? I’m so bored and Myrcella is doing lady stuff.” Tommen asked you, holding his little sword.

“That’s not proper for a princess to do and mother doesn’t approve.” Joffrey hissed.

“But father does. We are not useless like yourself, big brother.” You rumpled your brother’s hair. “Let’s go Tommen.” You found Arya in the courtyard with his dancing teacher. “Mind if we join the class?”

“This is Syrio Forel, he is from Braavos.”

“My Princess, my Prince.” He did a small reverence.

“I want to learn how to be a knight!” Tommen said excitedly. After a long time practicing you got tired. Syrio was surprised when he saw the way you wield the wooden blade.

“Natural talent, Princess Y/N.”

“Thank you. My father was the first person that taught me how to properly do it so I can defend myself when there are no guards around. Ser Jaime also instructed me of some techniques.”

“That’s my intent too. Not wearing dresses and attending to councils. I was born for this.” Arya said sure.

“No one will be able to stop you when you are old enough, perhaps not even now.” She grinned.

You could see yourself in this girl, you have a lot in common. She was fearless and didn’t seem to want to marry a lord and live in a castle. You could also see the similarities between Lady Sansa and you. You love to fight and go hunting, use a bow, but you knew how to weave as well, how to properly greet the lords and ladies, and you wished to get married someday. You were a proper daughter, with dignity and manners, your father was always more fond of you, your mother on the other hand... she loved you in her own way, you were the perfect child in everyone’s eyes.

“Lady Sansa, I am happy to know your brother is fine.” You put a hand on her shoulder.

“He won’t be able to walk ever again. But it was a miracle. Thanks for your prayers.” She answered.

“Would you like to visit the Throne Room? Your septa can join us.” She nodded.

“Someday your husband will sit there and you by his side, then you’re going to present your son to the court. All the important people of the Seven Kingdoms will gather here to see the prince.” Septa Mordane stated.

“What if I have a girl?” The Stark inquired.

“If the gods are good you’ll have girls and boys, plenty of them.”

“They all going to be beautiful children. Just like her mother.” You complemented.

“But if I only had girls...”

“The throne will pass to Tommen, my little brother.”

“And everyone will hate me.” She harried said.

“No one could ever hate you, Sansa.” Her septa affirmed.

“Your Septa is right, my lady. I already told you. As your friend, I won’t let anybody speak ill of you. Besides, you are lovely.” You squeezed her hand.

“Thank you, my princess.”

“Sansa, do you remember your lessons? Who built the Iron Throne?”

“Aegon the conqueror.”

“And who built the Red Keep?”

“Maegor the cruel. My grandfather and uncle were murdered here, by orders of the Mad King. Why?”

“You should speak to your father about these matters.”

“You are dismissed.” The old woman left. You walked towards the throne indicating her to follow you.

“Would you like to seat on the throne, my lady? It’s not a comfortable chair but it was forged from the one thousand swords that had been surrendered to Aegon in the War of Conquest by the lords who had offered their fealty, though the actual number of the swords is less than two hundred. These were melted down by the fiery breath of Balerion the Black Dread.” You conclude telling her.

“You seem to like these type of stories, Princess. Your knowledge for the topic is quite vast.” She was surprised yet amused.

“Yes, I enjoy to read and uncle Tyrion told me a lot about this when I was just a little girl. What kind of stories enthralled you, sweet lady?”

“The ones with honorable knights, chivalry and love.” A dreamt sigh left her mouth.

“I like those too. Especially this tale about Ser Florian called Florian the Fool, he was a legendary hero of the Riverlands from the Age of Heroes. He felt in love with a maiden named Jonquil. Singers compared the sudden marriage of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen and Queen Alysanne Targaryen to their great romance.

“I know that one! Is my favorite tale of all time. But I didn’t know they compared them with the Targaryens of that period. It’s very romantic.” She blushed a little.

“And one of the songs... I think this is how it goes, Six maids there were in a spring-fed pool... oh my gods! I sound terrible.”

“No! You have an adorable voice, princess Y/N.” You grinned.

“You are lying! I found that song a bit creepy. He was watching Jonquil and her sisters bathed. The face of the girl turned just like her hair. I didn’t mean to ruin it.” Both of you laughed.

“It’s alright. I still love it.” The throne room was never your favorite place to be, it was hollow and boring. You imagine all the horrible things that happened here. But now with the presence of such a pretty lass it felt different, not gloomy at all.

The next day it was the tournament in the name of Eddard Stark. Though the man didn’t attend. You sat next to the oldest Baratheon boy. Tommen was inpatient so as your father. Lady Sansa smiled at your brother but he looked away, avoiding her completely.

“Is it so hard to be nice at your lady?”

“Shut up.” You return the smile to her. She was half disappointed it wasn’t Joffrey and half happy you did notice her.

“Start the damn joust before I pissed myself!” And the opponents made their appearance. Ready to begin.

[abadpoetwithdreams]

Nirvana in Fire Episode 2 Reaction

(Hello, yes, it’s me again, the person who said she’d write a reaction post for every episode she watched and then went and watched SEVEN EPISODES IN THREE DAYS. I have regrets. I actually didn’t even want to stop watching long enough to write this, but I have to before I get too much deeper in. Everything below is written from my episode notes I made while watching episode 2 for the first time, so none of my later knowledge applies, here. I actually know names much better now, obviously. Also I continue to do really badly at not getting attached to anyone. Comically badly, really. I’m setting myself up for a lot of grief, I can tell.)

• So, episode two of Nirvana in Fire! We start this episode by immediately focusing on the princess (whose name is Ni Huang) which I was not expecting but which I welcomed wholly. After she had such a fun, powerful introduction, as well as that cheeky conversation with the Emperor, I am happy that her character gets even more fleshed out here. The fact that she is still unmarried is apparently a Big Deal, because until she is safely paired off with a suitable husband, she is a political wild card. Whoever marries her will essentially have her army of 10,000 men as a dowry, with all the clout that entails, making the Emperor anxious to arrange her marriage as quickly as possible. Unusually for this sort of story, though, he actually cares about her enough that he has let her put off marriage for a many years, so that’s rather sweet. He even seems proud that so many guys are interested in marrying her, which is cute. (He wavers between being proud that she’s so awesome and that so many people would want her, and being worried that so many people want her for the power she has.) In fact, even though this whole tournament for her suitors that he’s arranging seems like a final ultimatum, he seemingly is also going ahead and letting her have final combat with the top candidates, so I guess he’s potentially still letting it slide—for now.

• And why hasn’t she married, even though she is (as he friend so kindly tells her) no longer young? OH I CAN GUESS. *senses Doomed Romance looming closer*

• Side-note: I wish the Emperor’s eunuch buddy would stop smiling. He’s incredibly creepy. The performance reminds me of whoever played Osric in the Tennant production of Hamlet (arguably my favourite Hamlet: that perpetual smile that’s hilarious but also massively unsettling).

• Also Ni Huang has a younger brother? And he is going to take over the army now? Because the emperor is worried about the popularity and influence Ni Huang has among her own army? I’d say the Emperor is being needlessly paranoid, but I’ve watched various Asian period dramas before. He’s right to be skittish.

• Ok and then we get introduced to a general (??) who is immediately also on my list of faves in this show (I said I wouldn’t pick favourites. I SAID I WOULDN’T GET ATTACHED. GAH) because he is introduced with some great drumming music and while punching out two people at once, and also he has fantastic eyebrows and is maybe the only person on this entire show so far who has a Beard that isn’t an Evil Beard. Excellent. He seems very fierce and reminds me a lot of our hero’s surly teen bodyguard, and now I want them to fight.

• The prince who isn’t the Crown Prince (Yu, I have gathered his name is—see, I’ll get all the names gradually, I should have them all solidly by the end of ep3. Being able to keep track of a million names and complicated family trees is one of my Silmarillion powers) seems increasingly snakey every time I see him. This time it’s him praising the two guys the general beat up to his face, and then going off to scold them harshly and be really generally mean later. A harmless bit of two-faced-ness? Mayyyyyybe. But I’m guessing this is just the tip of the iceberg with this guy.

• He has really beautiful clothes, though. That red and gold. NICE.

• We finally come back to Chang Su—yeah, I know I was going to call him Lin Shu last episode because that was the first name I remembered, but everyone’s calling him Mei Chang Su so I’ve picked up on that now and will stick with that I guess… Or, actually, I’ll probably just start using all the names interchangeably and be both confusing and confused. It’s fine.

• Anyway, our mysterious man in white (side note: I adore the simplicity of his costume and how it makes him look even more washed out and ghostly when surrounded by the vibrant colors and detailed patterning of all the other men’s costumes) is hanging out at the Marquis’ house where he is reading and drinking tea in the garden, which just makes me like him more because that is how I, too, like to spend my time. His angry teen bodyguard is busy jumping from rooftop to rooftop and wire-flying through the air, as one does. The bodyguard’s name is Fei Liu and I adore him. More of this kid, please, show, and thanks.

• Chang Su sends Fei Liu out to play, and when Jing Rui wonders at that, Chang Su assures him it’s fine: Fei Liu has a good temper. Immediately I know something is up. Either that, or our entire premise that Chang Su is a brilliant strategist is a lie, because that teen murder machine is the angriest character in this entire show and you’d have to be an idiot to think otherwise.

• These boys, by the way—Jing Rui and … Something Jin? His happy sidekick— continue to be the nicest, most cheerful and pleasant duo. They’re in temperment like the Merry and Pippin of this show. Every time I see them in a scene with Chang Su I get intensely uncomfortable because I’m certain he doesn’t really see them as the friends they think they are to him.

• And then I get my wish and the general and Fei Liu have a mighty sky and roof battle, and it’s glorious. The cinematography is so good in this show, it really lets the wirework and choreography shine. Usually I prefer my combat more House of Flying Daggers over the top and less Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon over the top, but it’s working for me 100% here. The dancer in me digs it.

• “I will be sure to discipline him” -Yeah, sure you will, Chang Su. Suuuuure.

• The general seems suspicious, but that’s only to be expected when you are accosted by a strange, vicious, flying child in a garden.

• “There is nothing exceptional about me. Except for my stunning good looks.” -Chang Su, when questioned by the general. I might have added that last part.

• Fei Liu’s faceplant of shame against the wall made me laugh out loud. Gosh, I love this kid.

• And! It turns out Jing Rui’s brother with the sneaky face was eavesdropping for Prince Yu, and of course when he scuttles away to report his findings we cut to Chang Su looking immensely smug. Yup, he planned that whole fight out. This guy.

• Meanwhile, the Marquis is in the pocket of the Crown Prince, and reports to him the same news. But these guys go a step further and not only are they planning to win Chang Su over; they are planning that if they can’t win him, they will kill him! I’m just assuming Yu hasn’t thought that far ahead.

• “I took to the battlefield in my armor when I was seventeen years old. After witnessing bloody battles for seventeen years, all I have left is a heart of steel.” -Ni Huang, lying. But also continuing to be immensely quotable.

• Also her friend is a super-important intelligence agent? She has this fantastically dangerous attitude, so I can’t wait to see more of her. I love how competent these women are, and they aren’t presented as awesome warriors simply as window-dressing; they make their awesomeness seem earned and genuine and an core part of their characters, so well done show (or novel? I think this is an adaptation of a book? Either way, bravo, and bravo to the actresses for being so effortlessly cool).

• It’s another prince! Prince Jing, this time, and I love this guy immediately. He has a perpetually sad grumpy face but the more you see of his life the more it’s understandable. Guy has it rough. But he seems to be very close with Ni Huang, which is yet another point in his favor! His short, abrupt mannerisms are hilarious, when contrasted with his brothers’ constant waffling and wheedling and whining.

• Oh, and a thread I had questions about last episode gets pulled out a little more: Ni Huang���s friend in the intelligence force was one of those who investigated Lin Shu’s family all those years ago and who came to the conclusion that they were treasonous due to (what I am assuming was planted) evidence that Prince Jing thinks was bogus. He still hasn’t forgiven her, and she still hasn’t forgiven him for continuing to think well of the traitor who killed her husband. Supposedly. Furthermore, Ni Huang also still does not believe Lin Shu and his family were guilty, which hurts her friend’s feelings. Sheesh, I can’t wait for whenever the flashbacks start and we can ACTUALLY SEE what happened 12 years ago! Everyone’s lives seem to be divided into a before and after centered around that event, whether they realize it or not, but everyone also has different takes on what happened. The pay off had better be amazing, because the constant teasing is killing me.

• So now we come to what I thought was going to be the worst scene of the episode, where the Emperor makes poor Prince Jing just stand at attention, ignored, outside his palace and then legit forgets about him and we get all this backstory about how his father treats him harshly due to his sympathizing with Lin Shu’s family and inability to keep his mouth shut and I just felt so bad for this poor guy. But sidenote: the Emperor’s happy air-calligraphy as he admires the handwriting he was looking at when Prince Jing first arrived made me laugh. I really, really like whoever this actor is who’s playing the Emperor. I don’t think I’ve seen him before. But he gives what could easily be yet another trope-y Emperor role a lot of nuance.

• And then when Jing is finally allowed inside, the Crown Prince immediately starts haranguing him about how filthy he looks and why didn’t he go home to clean up first and I wanted to slap him. And then slimy Prince Yu cuts in to argue against the Crown Prince in an attempt to get Good Son Points from their Emperor Dad, and I wanted to slap him, too. My gosh, they’re a pair of five-year-olds.

• Also, Prince Jing continues to be very laconic, but I love that he is both quieter than his brothers AND plagued by the problem that he doesn’t know WHEN to shut up. Someone who speaks their mind like he does and who cares more about what is Right instead of what is Safe reeeeeally needs someone a bit more sneaky and pragmatic looking out for them. Someone like … CHANG SU? HMMMMMMM

• Jing Rui fiercely defending his buddy Chang Su from court politics, and then proudly saying his father is neutral in politics (oh poor boy) is so Good, it breaks my heart.

• And with that it’s finally the start of the tournament to find Ni Huang a husband! Fei Liu angrily fails at putting a ribbon in his hair in the background of a scene and I had to rewind to actually pay attention to what the boys were saying because it distracted me. Chang Su is still being the most polite little troll and is like ‘hey, how about we show up SUPER LATE’ all the while surely knowing that the two princes are desperate for a glimpse of him. He really wants to make a big entrance, ahahaha.

• Ni Huang’s baby brother is PRECIOUS. I ADORE HIM. “Princess Ni Huang probably doesn’t worry as much about this tournament as the young prince” PRECIOUS I SAY.

• I’m perplexed by how expressive Hu Ge can make his expressionless face be. He emotes a lot without emoting at all and it’s uncanny. There was a whole story on his face when he commented on how close Ni Huang and her brother are, and I REALLY WANT TO KNOW WHAT IT IS.

• And then this show briefly turns into a brilliant comedy where Prince Yu and the Crown Prince basically both race out of their private box to where Chang Su is and immediately start trying to win him over with a forcefulness that grows in awkwardness and eagerness until it’s basically a farce. It’s glorious. And once again I have to commend the acting in this scene, because what they’re saying isn’t even inherently funny; it’s the way they say it and the pacing and their expressions that made me rewatch this scene twice just so I could cackle over it again. Jing Rui increasingly offput by their posturing, Chang Su increasingly dying inside, Yu Jin completely oblivious. Hysterical. Also there’s a shot that makes me realize the reason why I like Chang Su’s face and specifically his eyes so much is because he has this weird resemblance to Buster Keaton, so there’s that.

• AND NOW WE COME TO THE WONDERFUL GRAND EMPRESS DOWAGER SCENE.

• JUST A NICE SCENE WITH A NICE OLD LADY AND HER DOTING GRANDKIDS.

• JUST A NICE HAPPY FAMILY SCENE. • YUP.

• NOTHING ELSE TO SAY HERE.

• … .

• Ok no, that’s all a lie, but I had been lulled into a false sense of security by the hilarity of the fighting princes, so I thought this was just going to be cute. And at first, it was. Well, after Lin Shu’s brief, unusually intense moment with Fei Liu where he orders him on exactly how he is to behave with the old lady, that is. “She’s the kindest grandmother in the world,” he says, his eyes drifting to middle distance, and I got a little choked up. But it’s ok, the moment is brief, just enough to color the next scene with poignancy, and I thought that was it. He gives his instruction, he goes in, everything seems fine (except for the fact that he seems legit scared to look his grandmother in the face, THIS POOR MAN), Yu Jin is a cheerful doof as usual, the Empress Dowager is DELIGHTFUL and her obsession with everyone’s marital status is charming (as is Jing Rui’s discomfiture, I like his hair-down look btw), Fei Liu makes an epic eyeroll and continues to climb in my esteem, and then—

• Dangit.

• Ok, so story time: I don’t know Chinese. Not at all. I am ¼ Chinese, actually, as well as ¼ Japanese, but I know more Japanese because I have never been in contact with my Chinese side of the family as much. Anyway, so I have always relied entirely on subtitles when watching Chinese media, but dramafever’s subtitles have seemed a little inconsistent to me. And I THINK they were in this scene. Because when Jing Rui introduced himself to his aged great-grandmother, she asked if he was “Xiao Rui,” according to the subtitles, and he said yes. Now, I figured something was up here because I could have sworn his name was Jing Rui? So I paused the episode for a quick detour to google, and apparently Xiao means small??? Which makes sense contextually and is super cute????? So this meant I was like ‘Aww, how sweet’ and then went back to the episode full of warm fuzzy feelings and a vague sense of accomplishment, hit play, and was armed with just enough Chinese knowledge to feel the moment when that kindly old woman calls Lin Shu “Xiao Shu” LIKE A FREAKING FREIGHT TRAIN OF PAIN. HIS EXPRESSION WAS MY EXPRESSION IN THAT MOMENT. AUGHHHHHHHHH

• AND THEN • IT JUST

• KEEPS

• GOING

• She comments on how thin and sickly he looks and I was like bye

• And then that horrid woman who I THINK is the Crown Prince’s mother (out of everyone it’s all the women in the court that I have the most trouble differentiating, which is weird because I should be able to tell them apart easily by their headdresses but idk) makes a joke about haha she said he’s thin and she called him small Su what a rascal that grandmother and meanwhile both Chang Su and I are over here dying inside and I’m like bYe

• And then she gives him a stupid snack that was his favorite when he was a kid because she can’t remember anything recent but by golly she’s going to remember what her grandkids like and that reminded me of my own great-grandmother who had this same memory problem due to a stroke but anyway he takes it and looks absolutely terrified by both the emotional battering he’s getting and also the possibility his cover will be blown, probably, and he wraps that thing up in his hands like it’s the most precious thing in the world and I was like bYE

• And then good ol’ grandma is like “Hey, Ni Huang, get over here and hold hands with your boyfriend” and I was like BYE

• And then when the Empress Dowager is getting distressed because the women are all telling her ‘Oh, that isn’t Shu, they aren’t getting married, she broke her engagement years ago’ Ni Huang is obviously hurting and tries to quietly slip away but HE GRABS Her HAND LIKE HE JUST CANT HELP HIMSLEF ANDHER FACE I WAS JUST AAAAAGHHHHHHHHFSLSLWHDKls:KdJk:SK;;;;;

• And my girl Ni Huang, she knows. She doesn’t know what she knows, but she KNOWS.

• “Xiao Shu, you’re leaving?” *DEAD*

• Also that music came back

• Dangit

• I don’t even know what else happened in the episode after that. I had to go back and rewatch it for this post because I was so shook. Ni Huang, bright thing that she is, corners Chang Su and asks him to walk with her, and she starts probing at him to try to figure out why he behaved so oddly and why she felt so strange with him (ok the last is more me speculating based on the actress’ body language and expressions more than anything in the actual text, but it’s definitely what’s going on ok). And they are the perfect couple they’re both so sharp and even their colors compliment each other and I’m very distressed.

• And then the episode ends with a child getting beaten up. The end.

I’m exhausted. On to episode 3.

[vivalaskristie]

Chapter 6 All the Single Ladies

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Series Premise: Parallel, behind the scenes, Madeleine and Bastien

A/N: This is my first series, my first AU, because Madeleine and Bastien needed to smash.  I posted and then pulled it because it wasn’t quite right.  It’s still a work in progress.

Warnings for this series: The first sex scenes I’ve ever written, bad language, sneaking around, alcohol, general mischief and the occasional academic symposium.

Chapter 1 Prelude

Chapter 2 Drinks on a Yacht

Chapter 3 A Dark and Stormy Night

Chapter 4 Meanwhile, Back At The Palace

Chapter 5 She’s Gone

Permatags:  @speedyoperarascalparty @burnsoslow @dcbbw @emceesynonymroll @stopforamoment

“Well this is quite a hiding place you’ve found for yourself, Maddie.”

Madeleine looked up from her book toward the source of that familiar voice. She’d had 2 weeks of nobody saying her name without some sort of title in front of it. 

“Well I guess I’m It now, Livvie.”  She smiled at her longtime friend as Olivia sat down on the chaise next to hers and made herself comfortable. 

“You certainly are. In fact I don’t think there’s ever been an It girl like you before.”

“How did you find me?  Did anybody follow you?” Madeleine had to ask, even though she knew that nobody could move around the world undetected like the Duchess of Lythikos. She was a ninja when she needed to be.

Olivia thought about making some wisecrack about her lofty stealth skills, but she knew that Madeleine was genuinely concerned. “No, Maddie. Not even my pilot knows why I’m here. I’m just glad you picked someplace warm. I was afraid you’d be in England somewhere in some terrible Norman castle ruin.” 

Madeleine smiled gratefully. She’d missed Olivia’s company. Ever since they’d all parted after high school, there had been a distance between the group of girls who had once been so close. None of them had chosen to be in whatever competition they found themselves in. They never saw themselves as rivals.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, nodding to accept refills of their drinks. The beach wasn’t crowded, in fact, there were only about a dozen other people sharing it with them, and they were all there because they were of the privileged few who knew how to get access. They all left each other alone, with no curious glances, no questions, no surreptitious selfies that just happened to capture something interesting in the background. This island in the Maldives raised the concept of “privacy” to new levels.

“So are you here to check on me out of the goodness of your kind heart, or is there more?”  

Olivia’s sharp features twisted into an appreciative smirk. The only time that she wasn’t the smartest person in the room was when Madeleine was also in attendance.

“My dear, there’s some intrigue brewing in dear old Cordonia. You need to be aware of it.”

“Nope. I’m done there. I’ve decided to go back to Oxford. I’ve got a place on a research team and they’re delighted to have me. Cordonia can blow.”  Madeleine crossed her arms and felt a rush of adrenaline–she hadn’t told anyone from home about her plans yet, and saying it out loud made it real.

Olivia had always been so proud of Madeleine’s drive. Damn, she always did her own thing whether it fit into anyone else’s plans or not. This wasn’t going to be easy. “The new Crown Prince needs to find a bride.”

Madeleine cracked a laugh before she could stop herself. Oh no no no. She was no longer part of the royal marriage stable, thank you very much. She took a sip of her cocktail and shook her head.

“They’re making it a contest.”

“Of course they are, the fucking vultures. God forbid we make any of our own choices. Who are the other ponies?  Hana?  Penelope? Kiana?”

“Oh so you’ve seen this episode already,” Olivia cackled. “Yes, they’ve gotten the gang back together for young Liam’s approval. If it matters, the word is that he’s not thrilled either. Regina has cooked this up.”

Madeleine frowned. If the Queen was behind this, chances are she’d had some help from scurrilous sources. Her mother was the Queen’s cousin. They weren’t exactly friends, but they operated with similar objectives. They paired up when it suited them. “This smells like Adelaide.”  

Olivia raised her glass in salute. “Five points to the Countess for cracking the code.”

“Shit.”

“You’ve got that right.”

“Have you talked to Hana and Pen and Ki?  Where are they on this?”  Madeleine had begun strategizing without even realizing it.

“About where we are. We all know our lines. But this isn’t like 2 years ago when Leo came sniffing around us all. We’ve done this already. None of us wants to play anymore.”

“Who do they want to win?”

“You.”

“Shit.”

Olivia laughed again, a loud and cynical bark. “Oh my darling Maddie. Look at you already giving two shits about this.”

***

Bastien couldn’t help himself. He liked Liam. The new Crown Prince was smart and serious and aware of his place in the world in a way that Leo had never been. Cordonia would be in good hands with this man on the throne. The transition had gone smoothly because Liam demanded it. It was flawlessly executed. He had a pack of lifelong friends who would grow nicely into their roles as his advisors. The excitement over the abdication and dramatic disappearance of the jilted bride-to-be had faded as the nation turned its attention to the new heir. Cordonia was going to be fine.

His days were long and busy. He’d been hearing about vague future plans for Prince Liam but his focus was on the present and immediate future. Anything beyond the next week was still a variable.

His nights were long and decidedly not busy. He’d finally broken down and texted Madeleine, “checking on you” with no expectation of a reply. He received one the next day and it put him immediately at ease. It was a selfie with the sea and the sky behind her. She was tanned to a lovely golden brown and she looked relaxed and happy. He stared at it a hundred times a day. He wanted more than anything to go to wherever she was, but it was impossible. They were impossible.

Two weeks later, things started happening. He received a request for a meeting with Liam’s chief of staff. Cleaning crews were seen around the palace, airing out long-ignored spaces and polishing the fixtures. The King and Queen abruptly departed for a “vacation” that was not set up like a vacation at all. Nobody asked questions, and that alone was enough to make him suspicious.

His meeting with Liam’s team confirmed all of his suspicions and planted dozens more. This was not going to be good. The Queen had decided that Liam needed to marry ASAP, and since he didn’t have any serious prospects, wouldn’t it be fun to make a spectacle of it with the world watching?  They already had all the players, because everybody knew the “girls”–that made Bastien crazy, because these “girls” were grown women with lives and plans of their own. When they told him who the leading candidate was, he almost walked out of the room. Oh for fucks sake, he thought. What century are they living in?  Regina had obviously been spending booze-fueled afternoons with her dear cousin Adelaide. This was not an idea that was hatched from goodwill or kind intentions. No, it was a fucking circus. He was disgusted. 

He didn’t know who was in on it yet, so he didn’t dare reach out to Madeleine. Hana was in Asia with her family, and Penelope was in the middle of the annual dog show circuit. Kiana was at a UN summit in Geneva. Olivia was off the grid, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. He’d learned not to ask questions about the Duchess of Lythikos and her, um, proclivities. He’d seen her whip a dagger from somewhere underneath an evening gown once and plant it in the wall less than an inch from someone who’d irritated her. She legit scared him.

As he left the meeting with Liam’s team, he felt a hand on his arm. “Bastien, got a minute?”  He turned to see Drake Walker, Liam’s best friend. Drake was also the son of Bastien’s former mentor, who’d been killed in the line of duty. Bastien always had a minute for Drake Walker.

“Yeah, of course. What’s up?”

“Is there any way we could take Liam out of the country for some unstructured fun before the Queen’s beauty pageant begins?  He’s stressing about it. He thinks his whole life is already mapped out. I’d like to remind him that it doesn’t have to be.”

Bastien felt a surge of affection for Drake. He was such a good guy. Liam was lucky to have him. “Absolutely. Let me know what you’d like to do, and I’ll prep a team for it.”

“Thanks, Bas. You’re the best. We’re looking at a weekend in Manhattan, just the five of us. No fuss, if we can avoid it.”

“You got it. Book it and send me the details.”  Bastien was relieved that Liam had real friends looking out for him. A trip to New York was just what he needed. What could possibly go wrong?  

He was on his way to the next item on his schedule when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and read the text.

I’m home. 

She knows, he thought. Someone warned her before she got ambushed. He didn’t know who the guardian angel was, but he was grateful. He replied Welcome back. Laying low?

Yes. Needed to be here to put out some fires.

He smiled. She wasn’t going to jump into formation without a fight. 

***

“No, mother, I am not going to marry Liam.”

Adelaide swirled her glass as she rolled her eyes. “Madeleine, you’ve been given a reprieve. This is your chance for redemption. You can show the world that you are good enough to be a queen.”

That stung as it always had. “Good enough” was never good enough for Madeleine’s parents. They didn’t care about her accomplishments; only the reviews were important. She might as well put herself on Yelp and open up the comments.

“Mother, you cannot force me to do this. I do not require redemption. I have obligations that I must fulfill and I will not change my plans.”

Adelaide looked at her daughter with disdain. “Really, Madeleine, what good is another degree?  You’re a countess. You don’t need more school. You need a partner, someone who can elevate you to your rightful place. You’re going to the palace next week and you’re going to get that boy to marry you.”  She drained her glass and waved it vaguely, signaling the footman to refill it. 

There was no point in arguing with her. Adelaide and her husband Godfrey were of the opinion that the only use for a daughter was for the procurement of a significant husband. It had taken years for Madeleine to unlearn her place in their world. She left Adelaide to her scotch and Godfrey to his scorn and she went up to her rooms. 

She opened up the group chat on her phone. It was so good to be in touch with her friends again, all at once. They had missed each other so much!  There was a lot to catch up on; they just needed to get past this one last show.

It’s done. I’ll be at the palace next week. See you soon xoxo.

The replies hit immediately.

PLACES EVERYBODY!

GAME ON, BITCHES

Un pour tous et tous pour un!

Buckle up, Cordonia, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride.

It was good to have friends.

She debated about texting Bastien. She knew where his loyalties lie. She couldn’t put him in a position where he had to choose between her and the Family–of course he would have to choose them. But god, she wanted him to know that she wasn’t playing this round for real. She’d had a lot of time to think lately, and the realization that her possibilities went so far beyond just marrying well had stunned her. She wasn’t about to let it go.

Do you trust me?

Bastien read the words and everything around him stopped. This was new. They only had the moments as they happened. They’d never talked about things like trust or feelings or the future. Those were beyond the moment. What was she doing?

I trust you.

***

The following week as Madeleine was preparing to go back to the palace, Bastien was putting the final plans in place to secure Liam’s pre-bachelor-party party in New York. It was not an official visit, no galas, no banquets, no ribbon cuttings or bouquets. Five guys on a 3-day pub crawl, tailed by Bastien himself and the ten best members of his team. He hadn’t heard anything more from Madeleine, but he saw that five of the best suites in the palace were being prepared for the suitors. He was dying to ask questions, to find out what was happening.

He trusted her.

Chapter 7

[ks-caster]

A Story is Just a Lie You Fancy

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Characters: Belle, Rumplestiltskin

Notes: I was real heckin’ disappointed when OUAT revealed who the writer was/how they characterized him (the original one) especially because I had thought from the start of that plotline that it would turn out to be Belle - it would explain her obsession with books and why, once in Storybrook, she never seemed to do anything to impact the plot. Below the cut is what I’d written so far for that idea.

Prologue: A New Dark One

The Beginning…

The Dark One was a problem; on that much, we could all agree.

Of course, none of us could agree whose problem, exactly, he was. Some said he ought to be left alone to wreak havoc in the world of his origin—we were record-keepers, not history-makers, and librarians don’t get to censor what they collect. Others reasoned that since his power came from us, to begin with, we had the responsibility to ensure that he didn’t misuse it more than he already had. 

Most argued that at least whatever complete numbskull actually created him ought to be the one to deal with him, but unfortunately, no one had any idea who it was. It might’ve been someone from R&D, piloting a new concept, or else someone from the Character Stockpile going a little overboard. Maybe an Editor or someone from Graphic Design, trying prove that they, too, could do things and affect outcomes. No one knew for sure, and no one was fessing up, which put the whole discussion back to square one, and while we argued and argued and argued, the Dark One’s power grew exponentially stronger with each successive host.

Who are we, you might be wondering? We, who have the power to accidentally create a creature like the Dark One, but who spend so much time talking about how to handle him that he becomes un-handle-able right under our noses?

We’re authors, that’s who.

Various cultures in various realms have had different names for us throughout the ages; I’ve personally—to my face, I mean—been called a god, a spirit, a demon, an angel, a watcher and a world-bender, but there are thousands of others that people have tossed around. We call ourselves the Wordsmiths, if you care. 

Back in the day—do I sound old or what? I’m in my youthful single-digit millions, I promise—each of us had a single job, working together as a team to shape culture and history throughout all the realms. Mine, for example, was to discover and define the concept of “home” for each successive place and people and individual. That might sound easy, but it was actually extremely complicated and time-consuming. For some, home was a location, for others, a people group or race; it could be a whole country, a house, a single room, a tiny bottle of soil… it varied. The sense of belonging that one can call “home” is impossible to truly standardize, but the whole point of humanity, in all its beautiful variety, is that very little can ever be truly standardized. 

That’s why humans need Wordsmiths to help keep the balance. But I digress.

Back to the point, I was sifting through one world—the locals referred to it as The Enchanted Forest—and I came across a particular character. He had this completely unspellable name, and I freely admit to calling him “spinner guy” for the longest time. I encountered many, many characters, but this one stood out, because of his wholehearted, selfless, beautiful love for his son. It didn’t get him anywhere, sadly, but I remember thinking it was incredible—especially because it wasn’t something he was ever taught; no one had ever modeled it for him. Spinner Guy’s love for his son was this innate thing that he was just born with, and every attempt the world made to crush it out of him just made it stronger, more unshakable.

It was around that time that our lead story-boarders came up with this elaborate ritual to nullify the power of the Dark One. Unfortunately the Dark One at that time—guy by the name of Zoso—was way too far gone. His human willpower was almost completely nonexistent. If he had the autonomy to make one more good choice, then the only one he had left in him was probably to try and pass on the dagger’s power by dying himself. That meant we needed a new host, someone as far on the side of light as possible, someone who would take on the Dark One’s curse out of love, rather than a lust for power. Every Wordsmith, regardless of their department, dropped everything to search for the best possible candidate.

That was why I ultimately learned to spell Rumpelstiltskin’s name.

I presented him—his whole file, everything I could glean from every department—to the Story-Board. I pointed out his desperate situation; his failing marriage, financial difficulties, negative reputation, everything working against him. I pointed out his miraculous love for his son, and the way it allowed him to overcome every obstacle, no matter what the cost to him. This, I said, this is a man who would take up the Dark One’s curse to protect his son, and whose love would keep the blackness from reaching his heart before we could get it out of him.

They considered other candidates, but ultimately picked mine.

I descended into his world to make that happen. There was no fanfare, no lightning, no me-waving-my-hands-and-making-magical-stuff-fly-around, nothing like that. No, in real life, a Wordsmith interfering directly goes like this: I took on the image of a fairy, waited for Zoso to hit a low point (happened a few times a month, hardly a long wait) and when he did, I appeared, talked to him, and advised him to give his power to another. I gave him Rumpelstiltskin’s name, and the location of his village. Then I left, flying off into the sunset on my fake fairy wings. 

Not a very interesting story, is it? But that was all it took. That’s how we work.

So, anyway, a new Dark One was born, and the Story-Boarders frantically started to work on the next step of the plan. I’m not on the Board—I’m sure that by now you’ve gathered that I’m not really important among my people—so I’m not totally sure how the spell worked. It involved some more getting-Rumpelstiltskin-to-make-decisions, something about getting him to the Base Rock, something about the blood of the purest love, a couple dozen other ingredients that everyone was scrambling to collect, and something about the one he loves most. It would take a little while to get everything ready, but in the meantime, our newest Dark One had Baelfire with him, and the boy could stall his father’s descent into darkness until we were ready to cure him of it.

Well, that was the idea.

That was before the kid got ahold of a previously extinct species of magic bean.

My real name doesn’t translate nicely into English, but you know me as Belle, and this is the story about how one simple thing I did—that one conversation with Zoso that was so boring I haven’t bothered to record it in full—broke the universe.

A Prisoner’s Memoir

A World Without Magic, between 1983 and 2011…

I didn’t use my powers while I was in prison—except twice, near the end. 

It was desperately boring, spending 28 years in a padded cell in the hospital basement with not a single person to talk to, and no way to pass the time, other than to replay history in my mind like a macabre video. At first, it wasn’t so bad. The wards the Story-Boarders placed on my mind when I took my little human vacation evaporated when the Dark Curse hit, so instead of having my memories wiped, I had them restored. I had a few million years’ worth of stories memorized, so I lay back on my cot, closed my eyes, relaxed my body, and started to recall them.

That pastime got me through about half of my internment.

There were two reasons for this deficit of amusement. The first is that the speed of thought is incomprehensibly faster than the speed of reality. My eyes rolled back in my head as I witnessed day after day, remembering adventure after adventure, hero after hero, outcome after outcome, and months would pass in my mind while only a few minutes ticked painstakingly by in the world around me. Over time, I ran out, started over, began to sift through and only re-watch the best parts. 

By the tenth year of my confinement, I’d reduced all of mortal history down to my hundred favorite stories. By the twelfth, I was down to my thirty favorite gifs. By the thirteenth, the thirty gifs had condensed to a series of images, and by the fourteenth year, I was left with a single, immobile collage. It burned itself into my head, tormented me by how sorrowfully limited it was. I’d arranged the images such that I could see the way one influenced another. History was the endless turning of a spinning wheel, creaking and squeaking and whirling and churning out thread after thread after thread after thread after thread after thread after thread after…

I think I was about twenty years in by the time I realized I really was going thoroughly crazy.

Spinning wheels reminded me of him, though, and that was sickeningly confusing. I still remembered being Belle, I still remembered loving him… no, that wasn’t true. I still loved him. I sort of loved him before I even met him, I think. That was why I’d volunteered to go down into the human world, powerless and defenseless, to slow his fall into darkness in the hopes that we could still find a way to save him… 

Anyway, it was complicated, because I also resented him. I might’ve gotten him into the whole mess, but his choices had gotten me into quite the cauldron of hot water myself. Of course, spinning wheels also reminded me of him in a positive light, because that endless cycle, in the right hands, could spin pure gold from the humblest of straw. I didn’t know what to think, and I still had to wait a total of 255,312,967 endless, paint-drying-slow seconds before I had a prayer of seeing him again, to even try and figure out how I felt about him.

And what to do about it, if I ever figured it out. 

After all, I wasn’t human. Wordsmiths can’t safely remain in human worlds for too long with our memories and powers in tact. I might sneeze and drop a continent into the ocean. I might have a nightmare and wish a whole retail chain and all its employees out of existence. 

Focusing on the past was infinitely better than focusing on the future, but my collage was starting to bore me to tears. I had to break it down, go back to the individual stories, and linger on the details, and for focus like that, I needed a physical outlet. That was the first time I used my powers; I made a book-binder down the street lose count and create one blank book more than his inventory required. Then as he re-counted in confusion, I “reminded” him that he’d intended the book and a package of fine-point pens in thirty different colors as a gift for someone in the hospital. He wrapped them in brown paper, gave them to the desk-attendant, who gave them to an orderly, who gave them to Doctor Whale, who brought them to me, and then all four of them forgot the whole un-memorable affair.

Just because I couldn’t interfere in the world at present didn’t mean I couldn’t prepare to help those who would interfere with it. In eight years, the savior was going to show up, but I knew a thing or two about humans from Base Rock. While she might have been designed to be compassionate and to feel a pull surrounding this place, her natural magic telling her that this was home, she was going to need some serious help believing. It wouldn’t be in her nature to be tied down, and certainly not to strangers and nebulous magic. She’d need to learn their history somehow—that was where I came in.

I spent eight years carefully planning, writing and illustrating The Storybook. I only had one shot at it—if the hurricane-level storms surrounding my very subtle acquisition of the materials was anything to go by—so I had to do everything perfectly the first time. The pictures had to be lifelike, had to be evidence, not just embellishments. The stories had to be exact, I had to resist the urge—which was strong—to censor them a little, to show characters in this or that light. I had to rid it of bias as much as possible. The Book wasn’t neither a commendation nor a condemnation. It was simply the truth of the matter. The only thing I cut out—obviously—was my own involvement in the very beginning, although I did include myself as Belle, the innocent human who loved the Beast. 

I wrote out every story in letters so uniform that anyone but another Wordsmith would swear that it was typed and printed. I had eight years to get it right, after all. I could go at a rate of one page per day, one drawing per week. 

Then, when it was finished, I used my powers one last time, and after the earthquake that they unleashed, Mary Margaret Blanchard cleaned out the mess that the shifting ground had made in her closet, and what should she discover but my book. She gifted it to Henry, and within six months, Henry had hopped on a greyhound bus and run off to Boston to find his birth mother. To find the savoir. I lay back in my cell, studying my latest mental collage of human history. It was starting to look more and more like a spinning wheel, but perhaps that was because I had made this one out of memories of Rumpelstiltskin. 

I hadn’t expected to enjoy being Belle, but I missed it—missed being her, and missed being with him. The only one of my powers that I retained back then was the uncanny ability to see the truth about people. Other than that, I was, for all intents and purposes, human, and that had been a remarkably calming state of being, now that I could look back on it objectively.

“I miss you, Rumpelstiltskin,” I whispered into the darkness after lights out. 

Across town, as Emma Swan paid for a room at Granny’s, she introduced herself to one, Mr. Gold, bringing back his memories with her magic-infused name…

New Mission

Storybrook, as the curse’s power began to wane…

I’d had no contact from the Story-Board in over thirty years, between the curse and my time as Belle in the Enchanted forest. That wasn’t long, in the grand scheme of things—you remember the part where I said I was a few million years old, right?—but in the middle of a crisis situation where every minute counted, a three-decade communication blackout was a little concerning. The people monitoring me had to have noticed that I had my head back on straight, and dream communication was fairly safe, but no matter how many nights I spent there in my padded cell, I didn’t hear one word from my people.

As I felt the curse wearing off (breaking it was a weirdly long process, I thought, but I didn’t dare use even my Far-Sight to figure out what was going on) I had to make a decision about what I would do when it broke. I could use the magical backlash wave to cover one quick use of my power, so I could return to my Publishing House if I wanted, but I was beginning to wonder if the Board would let me come back down after the whole Belle idea had backfired so badly. What if they pulled me off the project all together because so far my ideas had ended in catastrophe? Would I ever see Rumpelstiltskin again?

But I couldn’t stay here on Base Rock, at least not in my current state. I gave myself a week of being out in the world, rubbing shoulders with people and their problems, before I’d succumb and try and use my powers to change things. That couldn’t happen, not with the universe in the shape it was in at the moment. I loved Rumple, but I couldn’t sacrifice the world just to be with him.

But… I could sacrifice my powers, I realized. I’d have one moment where I could safely use the full extent of my Author powers—and in that moment, I could seal them away again, make it so I couldn’t use them by accident. Leave myself with only the soul-reading that I’d had as Belle. Then if anyone from the Story-Board ever asked me what I was doing, I could truthfully say that in the absence of further instructions, I’d continued the mission as planned. Then I could stick with Rumple, keep his heart from going black, and when they eventually managed to collect all the ingredients for the spell to fix him, I’d have him ready.

I wouldn’t let myself entertain the thought that they might decide he wasn’t a fit candidate anymore, and kill him to transfer the power to someone with a better chance. I wouldn’t let them. After everything I’d done to make sure that this would work with him as the vessel, I would not allow them to sacrifice him, not when I knew he still had some light left in him. At the end of the day, this was my plan, he was my candidate, and I should be the one to make the call, since I was the one closest to the action.

Yeah, yeah, rationalization, denial… I know. Shut up. 

I wasn’t able to pinpoint the exact moment the curse would break, but I could feel the magic building, getting ready to explode. I was ready.

Well, ready for the magic. I wasn’t ready for Jefferson to burst into my cell, telling me to go find Mr. Gold and tell him that Regina had locked me up. I wasn’t supposed to be around people until after the whole sealing thing, remember? But I was also supposed to play along with the story, not make waves and all that. And he was leaving the door open, telling me to go find my Rumpelstiltskin… 

I stumbled out, pretending to be in a curse-and-drug-induced haze. It wasn’t difficult; solitary confinement had not been kind to me, and I was ridiculously out of shape. The cheap hospital shoes didn’t help either, and I was sorely tempted to kick them off, but I supposed a human wouldn’t run around a 21st Century town barefoot, so I shuffled awkwardly in the general direction of Gold’s shop. I didn’t bother pretending I didn’t know where it was. I didn’t have the patience to muddle around in the stupid shoes and stop to ask for directions.

The doorbell jingled faintly as I entered. The day was overcast, so my eyes didn’t have to go far to adjust to the dusty, golden light that Rumple seemed to favor in every world. In his castle, it had looked mysterious and timeless. In this one, it gave the shop an antique-y aura, like I was stepping into time itself...

[alliance-recruitment-agency-blog]

Headhunters Mumbai - What should I do while visiting Mumbai?

You Can See Some Answer Here 

Staffing is one of the most crucial processes for a company. Finding and recruiting a right candidate for employment is considered a part of staffing.

We are the most recognized and trusted brand in HR services since years. We provide professional HR services Headhunters Mumbai for client all over the world. We have expertise in diverse fields.

We have developed a very effective screening and selecting qualified people from across the globe. We do focus on mainstream market, but also in the social media platform. 

We just not fill positions, but also work towards the brand development according to out HR solutions culture. We have a very stringent Recruitment Process; our find is always the cream of the lot.

Mumbai offers a stunning vary of experiences, from exploring the city’s fantastical design to escaping into a retardant of jungle or going birdwatching.  

Mumbai has distended to fill seven close islands, and it's adult into one among the foremost vital Headhunters Mumbai commerce hubs within the world. Mumbai may be a prime destination for understanding fashionable Indian culture.

For travelers, the Bandra-Worli ocean Link is a wonderful spot for viewing dramatic sunrises and sunsets over Mumbai. However, there square measure near  restaurants that look out onto nice views of the world. 

Some of the museum's must-see things embody a jewellery box qualitative analysis back to the Mughal Empire times, Buddhist relics from ancient Xizang, and illustrated manuscripts from Ancient Persia.  For more details Visit Here 

Author Name:- Shreya Mehta

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Mobile No:- +1 917-668-8461

Conclusion:  If an individual might be getting a peer also known as consultant to accomplish your job hunt towards level of contact using a prospective employer - stop doing this now. Perform get easily the involving someone gathering job order description or information a person personally. You make connect - use the opportunity create an an idea. 

Everything I'm stating we have found true and my personal experience. I have been working in certain facet pc work since i have was a youngster and been recently continually increasing my pay by 12-20K a year with every new job I just take. I'm usually unqualified for the positions I take to. I've been laid off once and outsourced twice, however the longest I've been unemployed was 3 days time.

These "brokers" work within a transactional course. Their job is always to match achievable spec from an employing organisation with the CV a good individual who can do the job. It is often a paper marriage - imagine job specs flying from air from search of the "ideal" Job application. When you boil it down, that is what the recruitment process is going to be. It is highly lucrative for that brokers. Greater transactions that complete, the actual greater % of the job holder income supply earn and when they are ok. The organisation that is recruiting; has a job must be filling is happy too. Send me inside the CVs you have got, they tell the brokers, and we'll let realize who weight reduction to see.

Go Head Hunt Yourself was accessible for employers on the lookout for real talent. The Candidates on this site are educated professionals in their field, with experience and knowledge you won't find easily somewhere besides you. headhunters mumbai love us for the caliber of employee they find here; jobseekers love it because process, which is finally pick the dream job they want and have accumulated.

When allowing your CV into this process, you join any huge selection of others who, through the broking process, ping out as potential candidates. Presently there only essentially the most basic consideration given to "soft" qualities, This process is driven by basic, measured data points - have you done a new job that is titled similar to one that the recruiter is matching? No surprise that the recruitment industry features the reputation as one of the most conservative previously business complete world.

Don't hesitate to apply just because you don't satisfy the requirements an ad. Seeking are interested in the position, then send your resume to vehicle. It never hurts to send a resume and on the earth ! thing technique do is say none of. You never know, though, they might look over your resume, give merely call, and end up hiring you will though required meet every one of the requirements they are asking with.

What made the discovery even more unique was that this skull has not been found in a burial field. It positioned inside the shelf of one of Jericho's ancient dwellings. They didn't just find probably these sculls, with further excavation, they went on to find eight more.

So any further my self-help advise to myself is consistently keep my resume up to date, as well as the first time someone asks me to do something outside of my job description because I am such a fine worker: start sending my resume to head searchers. Does this mean I would be wii employee and pretend Not able to do my job forgetting about a job outside of my job description? Do i need to go to and play at business so I'm left alone and enterprise eventually forgets about me and I simply show up and collect a salary? No! Most of us are not built that way, we only keep plugging along until will get that big break: We high hopes. Maybe I'll go back a new typical "A" personality or maybe a B+. 

Visit Here: Alliance Recruitment Agency

[whatsgodgottodowithreligion-blog]

Wounded Healers of the World, Unite!

In the dedication to my book, What’s God Got To Do With It, I wrote:

“To the wounded, and the wounded healers. Know that we are one and the same”

That wasn’t some clever turn of phrase or play on words - with that statement I was articulating a basic truth that we are either unaware of, or unconsciously forget as we go about the business of daily living. Now, some of us have been exceptionally wounded: through neglect, violence, and physical/emotional abuse we suffered either at the hands of our caretakers, and/or by the ones we have shared intimate relationships with. Some personal growth gurus are fond of saying that we attract those relationships, however damaging, so that we may learn the lessons we need to learn in this lifetime. 

Sorry folks, but I’m gonna stray into heretical territory when I tell you that personally, I find that to be complete and utter bullshit. True, as adults, many of us attract negative or destructive relationships into our lives (either through the familiarity of our personal backstory, or because we have been ingrained to believe those are the only kind of relationships we are worthy of having). But to say that those of us who have survived horrific abuses at the hands of parents/guardians/relatives/clergy needed those experiences to make us better persons is yet another platitude, however new-agey, used to explain that which is unfathomable in any empathic capacity. This doesn’t mean we can’t overcome such trauma, and even emerge victorious from our “baptism by fire”, but any suggestion of a conscious or metaphysical contract on our part to invite such abuse is a dangerous hypothesis to make.

The concept of the “wounded healer” is an allegory common to both Christian theology and traditional literature. It is a common theme because it is relatable and real: we all know stories of people who have overcome tremendous odds and psychological scars to give back to their communities, to share messages of hope and love, and to minister to those disenfranchised and often ignored. Even those individuals whose background involves less heinous transgressions put upon them have gone on to utilize those “lessons” in proactive ways to improve and uplift the lives of many suffering in present tense from similar circumstances. Often, grace is displayed by those whom we’d never believe to have suffered in any detrimental fashion, and yet have.

When I attended/presented at this year’s Wild Goose Festival, I met an angel of grace in the most (seemingly) unlikely of places. The headline performer on the main stage this year was none other than “Queen of Christian Pop”, Amy Grant. Amy’s trajectory from teenaged Contemporary Christian music artist to 80′s crossover pop star to bluegrass/gospel darling is a fascinating one, and yet many in attendance had an understandable enthusiasm toward her “VH-1 era” crossover hits, and her pop covers of 60′s chestnuts like “Put A Little Love In Your Heart” and “Turn, Turn, Turn.” Through a two-hour set on a ridiculously muggy night, under oppressive bright spotlights and swarms of insects attracted to such light, Amy remained poised, engaging, unflappable, even amusing - joking through both the annoyance and discomfort of contending with the elements.

Prior to the night’s stellar concert, I found that Amy and her “entourage of two” were camping in an RV just a few feet from where I was: while most past artists sought accommodations at the nearby (and considerably more civilized) Laughing Heart Lodge, Amy showed her humility in ways that still leave me scratching my head - brushing her teeth/hair in the communal sinks, singing and playing her guitar during Beer and Hymns, and being incredibly approachable to fans introduced to her by WGF Executive Director Jeff Clark. To give you an example of how modest and unassuming Amy was, when I stopped by the RV parked next door to re-connect and say hi to Jeff, I was completely clueless that the striking country gal he was talking with was none other than Grant herself.

On the final day of the Festival, Amy did a morning interview on the main stage, prior to our Sunday service. Moderator Chris Hauser asked the usual questions about her career and personal triumphs - at one point, I was waiting for Chris to exclaim, “AMY GRANT - THIS IS YOUR LIFE! Do you remember this voice from your past?” Thankfully, that didn’t happen. But he did play a voice from her past - it was a recording of a young Amy singing her first CCM hit, “My Father’s Eyes.” Needless to say, the 50-something year old Grant was a little embarrassed to hear her fourteen year old self singing that tune, and she was quite candid in her self critique. She said the tune was not very remarkable, her voice wasn’t that great - that there were dozens of female singers struggling to break into the industry whom she considered to be exceedingly more talented than she. 

She reflected on how she felt during those ‘early years’ in her career - in shock that so many folks saw a talent in her that, in her own mind, was hardly worth fussing over. Even forty years later, she remained astonished that so many folks treated her with kindness and encouragement, did not try to exploit her or physically take advantage of her - how blessed she was to have been surrounded by so many talented professionals who not only took a genuine interest in her, but wanted to see her succeed in a business that is not always known for having nice guys (and gals) finish first. Then, as her voice grew softer and more somber, she confessed to the crowd that for many, many years, she was plagued with feelings of inadequacy and low self-esteem. She never believed she was worthy of the early acclaim, the accolades, the success. She felt she was not up to the task, that the bar was being somehow lowered to allow her to perform and be in the spotlight. 

Now, it’s a given that many in the entertainment field chose creative expression precisely to overcome such feelings of low-esteem and unworthiness (as evidenced by the tragic endings of Amy Winehouse, Janis Joplin, John Belushi and Anthony Bourdain), but it was refreshing, even revelatory to hear that a woman who is a pillar of Contemporary Christian music, a woman who did not fall prey to drugs, bed-hopping or other vices, a woman who essentially led a sheltered life, and was sheltered from those temptations in an industry rife with them, would still have a personal demon - her own feelings of low self-worth and insecurity to deal with. She spoke about her marriage to fellow musician/songwriter Gary Chapman in 1992 (which produced three children), and her feelings of anger and betrayal when the couple divorced in 1999. It was an admission that caught me totally off guard, and I was floored by her honesty and transparency in sharing such an obviously difficult period in her life. But it also reminded me of our collective humanity - hers, as well as mine.

During the Sunday service, Amy sang “Better Than A Hallelujah” (from her 2010 release, Somewhere Down The Road) while a queer pastor officiated over the Eurcharist, then Amy, alongside progressive pastor Jacqui Lewis assisted in giving out communion. For some reason, I felt compelled to stand in the line where Amy was, and after receiving the bread and eating it, I hugged her and said, “I want you to know that what you said earlier really touched me. You are the last person that I would think would struggle with issues of low self-esteem. It really meant a lot to me to hear you say that, as I have been struggling with the wounds of my abuse for most of my adult life. God Bless You.” Amy could hear both the pain and sadness in my voice, and she ‘ministered’ to me with compassion and love. She thanked me for sharing what i said with her, and gave me a blessing before moving onto the next congregant waiting to be served the body of Christ.

In that one brief exchange I felt many things: grief, a depth of sadness I was not prepared to visit, but I also felt she understood, she cared, and I felt a psychic affirmation from her that what I went through was painful, that she appreciated being taken into her confidence, and most of all, that I mattered to her. Her, Amy Grant reminded me that I mattered. Even as I write this, I find it hard to stir up those emotions, but I do so because it is important that I convey to you, on an intimate level, what it means to be both wounded, and a wounded healer. I felt like kindred spirits with Amy during that exchange, like we had both had our share of baggage, and that in the end, we were both resolute survivors. We both understood that God had a larger plan for us, and we were going to do our best to fulfill that, and follow our inner voice. Throughout her professional and personal life (she has been married to country’s Vince Gill since 2000, and they share a daughter together), Amy has been the embodiment of good Christian values. I was not surprised to learn of the outreach she was doing on her ranch in the Tennessee mountains - utilizing her property to hold retreats and such - it made perfect sense given what I know about her now.

The reason I wrote the book in the first place was that I recognized that many people have been bruised by religion - the capricious application of it by equally wounded ‘followers’, how judgment and condemnation have pulled us from our humanity, instead of compassion and forgiveness drawing us toward it. I knew it was wrong, and needed to change. I knew it needed someone to call out such hypocrisy and brutality. I wanted to reach out to all those wounded souls and say, “Hey - God loves you. You’re here for a reason. Stop judging others, and say “Enough!” to the judgment foisted upon you by others. Respond to their ignorance with love.” John Lennon sang, “Love is the answer, and you know that for sure.” Don’t ever forget that you, in all your wounded brokenness have a gift to share with the world. And, if we could see in each other, that which we know lives inside our own souls, maybe, just maybe, we can move toward healing others, and by extension, be healed through them. For we are all one and the same.

[buddyrabrahams]

10 NBA trade deadline candidates

On February 2nd, Punxsutawney Phil will emerge from his underground burrow on Groundhog Day to determine whether or not we will have six more weeks of winter. Several days later, on February 8th, NBA general managers will emerge from their underground bunkers on Trade Deadline Day to determine whether or not we have a nuclear winter. The Detroit Pistons’ jaw-dropping trade for Blake Griffin on Monday was one heck of a start and knocked many of us dead in the process. But the fact of the matter is that we in the basketball fandom still crave infinitely more chaos. So in the spirit of the season, here are ten major trade candidates that are still out there.

DeAndre Jordan, C, LA Clippers

Jordan being the only Clippers player left from the notorious Navy SEALS unit that descended upon Dallas in 2015 was a plot twist that I, for one, wasn’t expecting. Nevertheless, he may want to keep an extra suitcase handy as the Griffin trade signaled that, if not a full-scale rebuild, the team is remodeling this roster like an HGTV show. Jordan’s value speaks for itself – basket-to-basket activity with ironman-like consistency (this season’s brief five-game absence was the first time he missed action due to injury in his ten-year career). His expiring contract does give him a specific niche market, but for the lob of God, players of his caliber ain’t available for trade all that often.

George Hill, PG, Sacramento Kings

It took all of six months for the Hill-Kings marriage to go sour, and now we wait and see which team will win custody. A prolonged stay in Sacto is likely untenable – rookie De’Aaron Fox has already lapped Hill on the depth chart, and the Kings’ Western Conference-worst record is pretty much purgatory for a player who has made the postseason in eight of his nine NBA seasons so far. A classic veteran point guard of the 3-and-D mold, Hill would probably be an ideal depth piece for a host of playoff teams. As such, he may not be locked in the royal castle humming “Someday My Prince Will Come” to himself for long.

Rodney Hood, SG/SF, Utah Jazz

When Gordon Hayward left the Jazz over the summer, this was supposed to be Hood’s team. Too bad that he didn’t see Donovan Mitchell’s coup coming. The star rookie Mitchell’s emergence has been the best thing to happen to Utah since the glory days of Jimmer Fredette, but it hasn’t been as great for Hood. Sure, he kicks donkey when it comes to scoring the basketball. But the Jazz don’t need him to be their primary offensive threat anymore, and once you add in his ever-present injury risk on top of that, he becomes expendable. I yearn for a continued future of Hood pouring in threes from the wing with the artful precision of a Renaissance swordsman. But the smart money tells me that said future will not be taking place in the Beehive State any longer.

Lou Williams, PG/SG, LA Clippers

After balling out this season to the tune of a career-high 23.5 points per game and coming to the very edge of All-Star Manor, it may be another sour ending for Sweet Lou in LA. He will be turning 32 this year, and every indication the Clippers are now giving is that they want to get younger and more flexible. Williams is at the apex of his value and would help out a contender much more than he would his current team at this point. That being said, it says “Professional Bucket Getter” on his business card for a reason, so expect the sixth man great to keep reminding us of that no matter where he ends up.

Nikola Mirotic, PF, Chicago Bulls

Mirotic’s surface stats this season (16.8 points and 6.4 rebounds per game on 42.9 percent from three) might be enough to get you punch-drunk. But the skillset overlap he has with other players on the tanking Bulls is more than enough to justify a move. Both rookie Lauri Markkanen and fellow pugilist Bobby Portis can play the stretch-four-with-rebounding-upside role just as well as Mirotic can, making him a luxury piece. Fortunately for Chicago, Niko’s $12.5 million club option for 2018-19 opens up just enough daylight to stand out in a market already well-saturated with shooting. Hopefully that means a move out of the Windy City before I run out of fight-related puns.

Kemba Walker, PG, Charlotte Hornets

Whether or not you believe that Kardiac Kemba is a true blue-chipper, 22-23 points per game and excellent one-on-one defense for only $12 million a year is virtually unheard of in today’s NBA. He may never be the best player on a true playoff contender, but his prime years may still be ahead of him in a world where you need a dynamic point guard to be able to compete. The Hornets seem doomed to wither away in the lottery no matter what. But in making Walker available for trade — along with his speed-of-light stepbacks and his homicidal crossovers — they are implicitly acknowledging that he can still be saved. We are now accepting donations for #SaveKemba2018.

Nikola Vucevic, PF/C, Orlando Magic

Vucci Mane remains sidelined with a left hand fracture, but he will return to a Magic team with little need for his services anymore. Frank Vogel’s bunch now has the worst record in the NBA, and No. 6 overall pick Jonathan Isaac needs a yellow brick road to more consistent playing time (once he returns from his own ankle injury). On the right team, Vucevic can be a Kevin Love Lite — a big man who hits the three, doesn’t kill ball movement, and can flirt with 20 points and 10 rebounds on any given night. The extra season he has under contract after this one may just be gravy for potential suitors as well.

Kent Bazemore, SG/SF, Atlanta Hawks

Even the balls of tumbleweed have deserted Atlanta by now, and I suspect that Bazemore, arguably the most valuable trade chip that they have left, will soon be following suit. A lefty slasher with 15-5-5 upside from the wing will always be a coveted player type. There’s just little use for him on a team that will struggle to reach 30 wins this season. If he picks up his player option, Bazemore will also be owed roughly $18 million a year through 2020, which is none too friendly for a roster teardown to say the least. Still not convinced? Well here’s the biggest argument for the Hawks to cash out on Money Baze over these next few days – he plays the same position as Luka Doncic.

Hassan Whiteside, C, Miami Heat

A word of advice for any team seeking a dominating inside presence on this year’s trade market: always look on the Whiteside of life. The former All-Defensive Second Teamer may have worn out his welcome in Miami after three-plus years — getting ghosted in the fourth quarter is becoming a regular occurrence for Whiteside as the Heat often elect to go with the spacing and the playmaking of a James Johnson-Kelly Olynyk frontline instead. Rookie big man Bam Adebayo has proven to be a more flexible, nimble-footed option down low as well. As a result, Whiteside is down across the board in almost all statistical categories this season, and that creates a nice buy-low window for any interested parties (like this Western Conference team perhaps).

Emmanuel Mudiay, PG, Denver Nuggets

The backcourt in Denver has just turned on the “no vacancy” sign. Gary Harris leads the team in points per game, Jamal Murray is playing like a maniac, and Will “The People’s Champ” Barton has reached new heights as a distributor to go along with his scoring thumb. With Nikola Jokic sopping up the rest of the playmaking opportunities, Mudiay seems to be the one Nugget left standing as the music stops. Granted, he is still just 21 years old, and his flaws, while glaring, are not necessarily fatal. A change of scenery could be just what the doctor ordered for a young guard who can pass the ball and penetrate while also quietly creeping up to a rock-solid 38.7 percent from deep this season.

from Larry Brown Sports http://ift.tt/2rOSUpp

[kevinmoyer]

Intimate Daytime Wedding in New York City :: Christine & David

Whenever a couple chooses to marry in a way that is exactly right for them, it shows in the pictures. Christine & David look so giddy in just about every shot! I really love that they chose a wedding that would have been considered the norm in the ’50s – midweek, ten guests, and an intimate luncheon with champagne toasts. (And PS: any bride who orders a cheeseburger for her wedding meal has a very special place in my heart!)

Christine decided to get ready with her bridesmaid, and not to see David before the wedding. She told us “I know we didn’t have a super traditional wedding, but I still felt strongly about spending the night before the wedding apart and not seeing each other until I ‘walked down the aisle’ — or in our case, stepped into the law library.”

What inspired you when you were planning your wedding? To be honest, I was mostly inspired by the simple post-World War II wedding of my grandparents. They had a very fuss-free ceremony and weren’t worried about any of the so-called requirements of weddings in 2017: nothing needed to be Pinterest-worthy! I just wanted to have a wedding that celebrated us and didn’t unnecessarily stress me out. And since it was a semi-elopement in New York City, I also wanted things to be city chic  – I wanted a short dress with pockets, shoes that I could walk in, and the backdrop of Manhattan.

The Ceremony

Why did you choose this location for your ceremony? Although we originally planned on a City Hall elopement, a family friend who is a federal judge offered to married us in the law library at the United States Court of International Trade. It’s located right across the street from City Hall, so in a way we had the simple, straightforward, non-religious ceremony we wanted — but with the added benefit of a slightly more personal ceremony and a scheduled time. And as a bibliophile, I was thrilled to get married in a library!

Your ceremony in three words. Simple, semi-elopement, city chic.

Who officiated your ceremony? How did you choose him/her? A family friend who was a federal judge officiated our ceremony. When David’s dad mentioned to him that we were getting married at City Hall, he kindly offered to marry us instead. He was great about keeping City Hall elements that we wanted, but also infused the ceremony with more of our personal history.

How did you go about planning your ceremony? We had an initial meeting with the judge where we talked about our relationship and what was important to us in a ceremony. Although we wanted to keep things simple and we weren’t interested in writing our own vows (“if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!” was my general attitude), we did have a couple of readings we wanted included. The judge sent us two the transcripts of two ceremonies he had officiated before, and we mixed and matched until we got something that felt right to us. Having a template or a past example to refer to was very helpful!

You can see Christine & David’s full ceremony script right here!

What were your ceremony readings? I’m not an overly sentimental or romantic person, so I didn’t want anything too sappy! One was i carry your heart, a lovely poem by e.e. cummings., and another was Union, a reading that I found ages ago and summed up what I thought a wedding should be: less about the wedding day, and more about the foundation of the relationship and the marriage ahead.

What were your vows like? Our vows were straightforward and non-religious. Neither of us had any interest in writing our own vows: as a writer, I felt like it would be too much pressure and add a lot of stress leading up to the day. David felt like he would get too overwhelmed with emotion if he had to read anything more personal. And if it ain’t broke, why fix it! Although I’ve heard wonderful personal vows at my friends’ weddings, I’m really glad we stuck to the script.

What was your favorite thing about your wedding ceremony? It was very intimate: just us, our parents, David’s sister and her now-husband, my best friend and David’s best friend. I didn’t feel any pressure to make it Pinterest-worthy or an “event”, which freed me to just enjoy the moment and the day. One funny memory is that Chris, David’s best friend and one of our witnesses, actually dropped the rings during the ceremony: it made everyone laugh and brought a bit of levity to the day! David says that he’s grateful for it because he was on the brink of (happy) tears, and this lightened things up and helped keep his emotions in check.

Is there anything else that you’d like to share about your wedding ceremony? It felt really joyful! We were both really happy to be there, and I think it showed.

Did you include any traditions in your ceremony? We had a “City Hall” wedding, so we didn’t have many traditions from bigger weddings. We did have my stepdad walk me into the room and give me away, which was something important to my parents. And we had a champagne toast in the judge’s chambers immediately following the ceremony as we signed all of the official paperwork!

What was the best advice you received as a bride? I’m very grateful that none of our family pressured us to have a wedding different than the one we wanted. We had so many older friends and family who applauded our decision to have a smaller wedding, and in doing so save more money for a down payment (or a honeymoon!) My best advice would be to do what feels right for you, not because that’s what a blog or Pinterest or a well-meaning aunt says a wedding must be.

What advice do you have for other couples in the midst of planning a wedding? Don’t be afraid to do something small! Semi-eloping can be a fantastic way to keep the focus on the two of you and eliminate a lot of the stress and cost of wedding planning.

Please tell us about any other special details or moments from your day. We took portraits on the streets of New York City on our way from the ceremony to the reception. Our pug puppy named Gertrude joined us, which was my favorite part of the day! The best part about a New York City ceremony: the energy of the city is just incredible, and the hospitality of strangers really pours out for newlyweds!

If you had it to do over again, is there anything you would do differently? We only told our immediate family and witnesses that we were getting married, so it was a surprise elopement to the rest of our family and friends! We had a few friends over to our hotel suite later that evening to celebrate with drinks, but I would have loved to have been able to include more of our close city friends. It’s tough to balance the surprise element of an elopement with not wanting to offend good friends!

Christine told us “we did portraits in a few locations near City Hall between our ceremony and our luncheon, and I especially love the candid outtakes as our little crew made our way around the city.”

The Reception

How would you describe your reception? After our ceremony, we had a lovely and intimate lunch at Tiny’s and the Bar Upstairs in Tribeca. We only had ten guests (plus our wedding photographer, Mat Rick, who is a close friend of ours!) for a long lunch with plenty of champagne toasts.

Why did you choose this location for your reception? We wanted something close to the courthouse that would be easily for our families to walk to. I love the cocktails at Tiny’s, and it’s such a cute little pink façade in the middle of all the gray skyscrapers in the city. When I found out they had a private upstairs room, I knew it would be perfect for our group!

Did you have a signature cocktail? We served champagne, Old Fashioneds and West 12ths (a refreshing mix of vodka, mint and lemon).

What was your favorite moment or part of the reception? It’s hard to pick a favorite moment – it was just so wonderful to be with our most important people in the same room. My husband’s parents, his sister, and both of our witnesses all made such moving toasts, the champagne was flowing, the food was delicious, and we were married!

What was your wedding menu? Tiny’s and the Bar Upstairs features family-style starters, and then everyone was able to choose their own main. Without a doubt, I think everyone loved the burrata the most! I had a cheeseburger, which felt surprisingly decadent and like a really fun wedding day choice.

Is there anything else that helps tell the story of your wedding? We opted to semi-elope on our fourth anniversary, even though it fell on a Wednesday in March! I always had dreams of eloping, but we did want our parents and best friends present. This was a nice compromise, and I love that we will always have the one anniversary.

What type of cake or dessert did you serve? We had a carrot cake! It’s David’s favorite type of cake, and we had it simply done with all-white icing. It was delicious and easy – his sister and her husband pick it up from the bakery on the way from the ceremony to the luncheon – and it only cost $45.

Do you have any budget tips for other brides? We ended up spending about $5K on the day. The main things we spent on: our attire, the photographer and the luncheon. Even without buying much that was specifically ‘bridal’, we still spent a decent amount on what we wore. David invested in a custom-fitted suit (that he’s since worn several times) and I bought a new dress, a pair of nude heels and veil for the occasion (which altogether cost less than $1000). One of our good friends photographed our proposal (as a complete surprise!), and we were thrilled to hire him to photograph our wedding day. Even though he offered us a generous friends and family discount, it was still a major portion of our budget but definitely money well-spent. He did a wonderful job of capturing candid moments and plenty of portraits of us, along with our friends and family. Lunch at Tiny’s & the Bar Upstairs was in a warm and cozy wood-paneled private room. Although they don’t charge any venue fees, there is a $1000 minimum spend, and the set menu was $40 per person (not including drinks).

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