#so it would make sense that i just need a change of scenery and pace

[georgefarber]

i really need a day where i can just go outside and stay outside and enjoy the city without feeling like the world is trying to swallow me whole and without being haunted by every block i walk and every corner i turn

[disneyprincemuke]

that’s just the way things go * femdriver

when her and logan crash out in a race, well, now what?

pairings: sebastian vettel x femdriver, logan sargeant x femdriver

warnings: accidents, car crash

notes: i warned you all.

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

-> canada, 2024

"ready, kid? one minute until the race starts," she hears sebastian in her ears. "everything good?"

she looks around her, trying to look at the grandstands with what little vision the halo provides her. typically, she'd not be able to hear the crowd cheering. but either something is up with her earphones, or one of her senses has heightened.

there has been an uneasy feeling in her stomach that she's not been able to shake off since she landed. there's a ringing in her head that's persistent all weekend.

"are you there?"

"yes, i'm sorry," she says quickly, perking up at the confusion in sebastian's words. "everything’s good.”

“is everything okay? you’ve had this worried look on your face all day,” sebastian states. “are you nervous? starting in the second row for the first time in f1?"

she looks to her side, noticing the ferrari mechanics working on charles’ car. she sighs and looks right up ahead at max’s red bull in front of her. diagonal to her is oscar’s car. “maybe it’s that. maybe i’m just nervous.”

“don’t worry about it, kid. i’ll be here.” she gets a feel for her steering wheel — the same one she’s had since she started last year. but for some reason, it didn’t feel great in her hands today.

her steering wheel doesn’t fit her palm today.

“let’s try and fight with the front row, alright? don’t let max get too far ahead.”

she breathes as the mechanics start to disperse. “i told max to always check his side view mirrors now that i’m behind him.”

she drives out of the pitlane, watching the car passing her before she rejoins the track. "who is that in the williams? is that alex or logan?"

"logan," sebastian says. "he's got good pace, but you're faster than him. you can overtake him whenever you see fit."

"how much faster than him? can i overtake him this lap?" she asks.

"up to your discretion. if you think you've got enough pace to catch him eventually – you have the fresher tires."

"okay."

she tries, trying her best to catch up to the williams car. she grunts under her breath, stretching her shoulders as she braces herself to fight logan on the track again.

she smiles. she hasn't fought logan on the track in a while so this is a very nice change of scenery. she tries to fight it fair and square, but she's noticed – only now – that he's developed a different driving style from the one she's used to.

she concedes about three corners into the lap, trying to get used to logan's driving style before she makes the decision to pull an overtaking move that would push logan out of the podium spot. which, realistically, she doesn't want to do if she had the choice.

maybe she should just let logan have the podium? she's already had one for herself last year in singapore after all. but no, she can't do that. there's always been a mutual understanding that whatever happens on the track should be a separate entity from their friendship.

if she concedes and lets him have the podium, despite knowing that she could very well beat him on the track, she is lying to herself and logan. and oscar, who is ahead of logan.

whatever happens on the track, stays on the track.

she always comes close, only to have to pull away from the early braking point that logan seems to be pulling at.

"seb, i can't find an opportunity to get past logan," she speaks, turning on the radio. "i need you to help me out. he went to the alex albon school of defending, apparently."

sebastian laughs. "okay, just keep trailing behind him. i'll let you know when."

"okay."

the uneasiness has managed to creep up into her body again. she feels her grip around the steering wheel falter, and her legs lock up on her as she tries chasing after him. logan manages to keep her behind him for a couple of laps, probably 3 or 4 if she remembers it correctly.

but there's a corner that logan runs too wide. she changes gears, suddenly changing her mind about slowing down and taking it slow, stepping on the gas pedal and taking a dive between the williams and the side of the track.

"beautiful overtake, kid," sebastian speaks into her ears. "he's still very close. keep the position until the flag if you can."

"i'm not chasing oscar?" she frowns, glancing at her side mirror. "i can shake logan off at the series of corners ahead, i'm sure."

"okay, but no risky moves. play it safe because you're already guaranteed for a podium at this rate."

and she holds off logan, for the better part of the next lap. they've been fighting head to head for a while until she turns into the corner, deeper than she typically would have done to throw logan off. but it seems that he's caught up with her games because he's directly next to her.

but she's already trying to go for the next corner while his car is still trying to finish the previous one. and it happens very quickly.

his left front wheel is caught slightly by her right rear, sending both of them off track. and because she was going a little faster than him, she’s spinning out at a much quicker rate than he is.

she shuts her eyes, feeling her car being flung onto surface that doesn't feel like the track anymore. she lets go of the steering wheel and bunches herself up. why is she still spinning? it shouldn't be taking this long.

until she feels the car come to a rude halting stop, the side of her car completely buried into the barriers of the track. she heaves as she tries to process her crash. it isn't as bad as her crash the year before, head first into the barrier in the streets of baku at 200 kilometres an hour.

but she does know one thing. she doesn't know if this is what she's been dreading all day, but she's furious. despite the ringing in her ears and the growing pain in one side of her body, she starts climbing out of the car.

"are you okay?" she hears sebastian asking her.

she doesn't respond. she reaches up for the halo of her car to pull herself up and climbs out of the car. she's on too much adrenaline now that the crash happened. the pain is absolutely nothing to her right now.

she unclips her helmet and yanks it off along with her balaclava, approaching the blue car in the gravel next to hers. logan is already out of the car, slowly approaching her.

"it’s o-"

she throws her arms into the air. "what the fuck is wrong with you?"

logan tilts his head, only taking off his helmet now. "what?"

“yeah, what is wrong with you? you ruined our fucking race!” she scream, flailing her arms in the air. “why did you do that? you knew there was another corner i had to make a sharp turn for!”

“you went deep! you accelerated way too soon.”

“no, you hit your brakes way too soon! now we’re here! i don’t get my podium and you don’t get your fucking points either!” she turns away from him, wiping her face on the sleeves of her racesuit in frustration. “fuck you, logan!”

a soft knock lands on the door, immediately being pushed open to reveal sebastian with a small smile. he has a paper bag in his hand and lifts it up to show her. “how are you feeling, kid?”

“fine,” she answers firmly, looking down at her phone. “have you seen liam? he’s supposed to be back with my twix bars by now.”

“he’s on his way back from the paddocks,” sebastian nods. “logan’s doing okay. mild concussion, from what james told me out in the hallway.”

she looks up from her phone, the anger in her eyes very prominent. it almost makes sebastian wish he hadn’t said anything in the first place. she furrows her eyebrows. “i don’t remember asking how logan is.”

“oh. you don’t want to know?”

“no.” she promptly goes back to texting on her phone, shaking her head. sebastian walks deeper into her room, careful not to agitate her more.

she puts her phone down on her lap and looks up. she takes a deep breath. “why would he do that, seb? not only did he ruin his own race, but he also ruined mine! why would he do that?”

sebastian shrugs. “i don’t know. i’m sorry. i’m sorry you had to retire from the race, kid. but it’s not his fault. things like these happen, you know?”

“not to me! not to us!” she rolls her eyes. “he’s so reckless for that! do you not think so?”

sebastian hums, patting her hand. “calm down, kid. i know you’re angry. but you and logan have been competing with one another half of your lives. don’t be like this.”

she shakes her head, moving her hand away from sebastian’s touch. she folds her arms over her chest. “he needs to apologise for ruining my race.”

“we’ll watch the playback later, okay? don’t jump into conclusions now. don’t ruin your friendship.”

“you’re saying there was possibility i caused the accident?”

“i don’t know yet. i immediately came to your side after the accident,” sebastian sighs, shaking his head. “please just get some rest. worry about this later.”

the door opens, revealing liam with mick trailing behind him. “oh, hey, logan’s-“

mick cuts himself short when sebastian’s head snaps to him, shaking his head profusely. mick’s lips form an ‘o’ shape as he slowly puts his attention to the silently raging girl on the hospital bed.

“we got your twix bars!”

“and a pepsi!” liam cheers, dancing over to her with a straw in his other hand. “blythe said she’s on the phone your parents, but once she’s done, she’ll come right back up here.”

she nods, returning her attention to her phone. she scoffs at the notification at the top of her screen, a text message from logan rolling in.

i’m not apologising this time

she scoffs and puts her phone down. she reaches out to liam. “give me my stupid pepsi.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @inejismywife @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @love4lando

[sinnoman]

The Dummy's Dummy

Once again, possessed by the spirit of Macaron (is that their ship name?) I have dumped 5773 words into a google docs and created a fic dedicated to Mammon and Barbatos.

Please sit back and enjoy how stupid these two are... stupid in loooove~

This is cross-posted on my ao3 which I will link here if you prefer to read long fics there.

Summary:

Mammon, although everyone liked to make fun of his intelligence, was somewhat sensible. He was able to mate for life! Although his mate doesn't exactly know it. No matter, he's sure Barbatos will get the hint someday.

Or alternatively,

Mammon unbeknownst to Barbatos, has mated him. Barbatos learns the crucial lesson of being mated to a crow and how to fall in love with Mammon all the same.

— 

It begins with a song. 

Mammon is surprised to hear a slow clap after he finishes singing. Whipping around, Mammon watches as Barbatos descends the steps of the house and enters the planetarium of the House of Lamentation. The royal steward gives him a small smile and Mammon can feel the heat rush up to his cheeks. Most of it was from embarrassment but a bit of it was flush from the praise he received. 

He doesn’t know why Barbatos was even in his home. Barbatos doesn’t visit often. When he does it’s usually because Lord Diavolo had demanded a change of scenery and wants to hole himself with Lucifer in his brother’s office. Even then Barbatos is often glued to Diavolo’s side tending to his every need as it’s required of him. 

“I did not know you possessed such a voice, Mammon,” Barbatos says smoothly. Mammon can feel his heart beat a pace too fast in his ears. “It was beautiful.” 

Mammon, who feels his brain and nervous system shut down, stands in silence as he stares down Barbatos with a shovel and plant nutrient in his hands. The praise does far too much for how vague it was but Mammon is sure it is not entirely his fault. Relying on instinct alone, he tries his best to make sense of the situation. 

Singing is a vulnerable language for him. Singing carried depth for him unlike how little meaning it has for everyone else. Depending on how he sang, it was very important that he received appropriate recognition for his performance. The last time he sang was to lull Belphie to sleep when he was sick with devil flu. Mammon had been singing this time to the plants in hopes they’d grow steadfast without any problems.

So when Barbatos praises his singing, the small thought of “mate?” that rings in his head makes Mammon consider the steward. 

Barbatos is about the same height as him, only an inch taller. He’s slim, but he makes up for it with amazing posture and honed skills in other areas. Mammon’s sure, from what he’s seen from Barbatos’ bare hands when the steward washes dishes, that Barbatos was well-toned. Under a faux golden moon and diamond stars, Mammon can almost imagine a life of both of them together. 

Yes, Barbatos will do. 

It takes him two whole minutes of standing in awkward silence to process the words before he flushes completely red. “Oh. T-Thanks.” He managed to stumble out. 

Scratching the back of his neck, Mammon lowers his head a bit to hide his face before looking at Barbatos, “Would you like to hear another song?” Mammon whispers as if anyone could hear them. 

Barbatos nods and gives him a look of expectancy. Mammon bends down, placing his shovel and spray bottle down, and slowly walks over to Barbatos closing the gap between them as best as he can without making Barbatos uncomfortable. 

Fiddling with his fingers, Mammon takes a deep breath before he starts to sing softly. This time, it’s not a song with words but rather a tune that Mammon forms precisely just for Barbatos. The melody conceals coos and clicks, as customary of a courting song. Once he’s done, Barbatos claps once again and Mammon feels giddy all over. He’s done it. He’s succeeded in mating with Barbatos. 

“Well done once again, Mammon.” Barbatos praises, putting his arms down once he finishes clapping. “Before I forget, Lucifer is looking for you. I believe you told him you would help him understand a banking transaction.” Barbatos informs him, turning to walk away. 

A clicking sound causes Barbatos to pause before turning back to Mammon. “Did you hear that?” 

“Must be the telescope.” 

— 

In the late hour of the night, after he frees himself from hanging from the ceiling, Mammon shakes Lucifer awake. 

Discombobulated, with spit running down his cheek, Lucifer’s eyes blink one after the other as he sits up looking at Mammon with the hardest look. But Mammon couldn’t care less. 

“I did it, Luci,” Mammon whispers excitedly. 

Groaning, Lucifer runs his face, “What have you done?” 

“I found a mate,” Mammon tells him, grabbing his shoulders and shaking back and forth. 

“Excuse me?” 

—

Mammon spends the next two weeks embroidering black silk gloves with thread mixed with hues of green and blue. While his sin and instinct urge him to quit wasting time on this one thing and hurry to present many valuable items to his mate, Mammon takes the time to craft his gift to perfection. 

Of course, no matter how much his brothers make fun, Mammon isn’t entirely stupid. It would be taking Barbatos for granted if he didn’t uphold his side of the relationship. So, like a good mate would, he sent his crows to drop off smaller gifts for him. His last gift was a tea bag worth half of what he got paid for his last modeling gig. Sure, it wasn’t anything valuable but his closest familiar (that he named Luce, after Lucifer) said Barbatos did not have it in his cabinet of tea. 

And who is Mammon to deny his mate what he loves?

When he is ready to give Barbatos his gift, he catches him in a partially secluded area of R.A.D. 

“Did you commission this?” Barbatos asks, hands tracing the stitching in awe. There is not a stitch out of place and every teal stitching is practically symmetrical down to the curls of its design. “Or..?” 

“I embroidered the teal parts of the gloves,” Mammon says looking away with a blush. “S-Sorry I gave it t’ya late. Embroidery takes time.” There’s silence as Barbatos fiddles with the fabric in between his fingers. He aimlessly watches as Mammon also begins to fiddle with his fingers as they both linger in the awkward silence between them. But Mammon, as his reputation prevails, is quick to break it. “I noticed yer white gloves get dirty easily. These would be better, right?” 

The hallway they were standing in was practically empty unless you counted the few lower demons who were rushing to get to class before the final bell. A small part of Barbatos, the most logical part, wants to give it back to him. If Mammon had truly meant to give him this gift he would have done so at a better time. Causing him to be late to class is nothing but a hindrance to him and his perfect attendance. But the bigger portion is grateful for it. 

“It would… This is extremely thoughtful, Mammon. Thank you.” Barbatos says, giving him a saccharine smile. 

Another click leaves Mammon’s mouth, causing him to slam his hand over his mouth. 

Barbatos’ eyebrows furrow as he makes the connection, “That clicking sound. Are you the one making it?” 

Mammon blushes hard. “I can’t help it.”  

“What is it?” Barbatos asks, a bit curious. He really should be going now. 

“An angel trait thing. It’s supposed to mimic chirpin’ but since I’m a demon it mimics the clicking of crows.” Mammon explains, not looking Barbatos in the eye. 

“It’s cute,” Is the only thing that Barbatos says as he walks away from Mammon toward his designated classroom. 

The sound of clicking echoes in the hallway before the final bell. 

—

There’s a chair in the middle of his room. 

Barbatos immediately pauses once he sees it. It stands out as Barbatos rarely kept any furniture in his room of many doors. With red mahogany wood, the chair is polished to the point where Barbatos can see his reflection. The golden cushion of the chair is plump enough to deem it comfortable to sit in. And while Barbatos does like the aesthetic, it makes him panic. 

Someone was in his room. 

Taking a few steps towards the chair, Barbatos uses his magic to check for any curses or hexes placed on it. He finds none. Looking around, Barbatos can’t see anything suspicious that has changed about his room. Keeping it in mind, he moves on with his day. 

Coming back to his room, he finds more furniture. This time, there’s a rug, a couch, and a bed fully covered in sheets and pillows. Barbatos notices the shiny theme that the furniture all share. Nothing important of his is missing but rather is moved around to make space for the added furniture. 

The culprit shows himself as he drags a bureau into the room. Barbatos watches, mouth slightly open at the audacity Mammon has to come and redecorate his room. 

“What are you doing?” Barbatos snaps, making Mammon pause his antics and look at him. 

Mammon gives him a toothy smile, “Putting furniture into the room.” 

“Mammon,” Barbatos says exasperated. “You cannot furnish my room without my permission. Take it out.” 

“H-Huh?” Mammon gives him a look full of hurt and Barbatos is nearly on his last nerve. In what timeline would Mammon care so much about the state of his room when Mammon has his own. 

“Take. The furniture. Out.” Barbatos emphasizes, watching Mammon bite his lip as a whimper escapes him. 

“Okay.” 

And Mammon does remove all the furniture from his room by the end of the day. 

He also doesn’t see Mammon for the rest of the week. 

—

“No matter how many times I perform a correction spell, my eyes still end up needing glasses,” Solomon said irritated, his eyes squinting at the paper as he leaned closer to it. In his hands was a packet of evaluations that were going to be discussed at the R.A.D. meeting this afternoon. Barbatos can’t help but chuckle at the banter in front of him. The man had a whole week before going over this packet but, Solomon wasn’t known to do things the moment it was presented to him. 

Simeon hums, “Try pulling the paper away from your face.” He placed his teacup down on its appropriate plate. 

“I tried that!” Solomon exclaims, slamming the packet on the table before he pushes it away. Crossing his arms, he pouted leaning back in his chair. “Do I really need to read this evaluation? It’s not like Lucifer is going to pick at my brain for the information.” 

“What if he asks you questions?” Simeon countered, a playful grin on his face. 

Solomon caught Simeon’s glance, “It’s Lucifer. Chances are he’d end up making the entire meeting just himself talking.” Solomon’s lips flatten into a straight line. “He won’t notice.” 

They fell into a comfortable silence and a small smile fell onto Barbatos’s face. It wasn’t the first time the residents of Purgatory Hall came a few moments early to a RAD meeting. Like his master, Barbatos enjoyed watching the relationship between all of them grow. It was nice to see how awkward small talk could develop to childish quarrels. 

Barbatos places his cup of tea down before clearing his throat. “Simeon, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” The angel perks up at the sound of his name. “Are angels similar to birds?” 

Simeon nearly choked on his tea. “W-What? What brought this on?” 

“Just humor me for a bit,” Barbatos responds, not exactly wanting to dwell on his experience with Mammon. He considered that Mammon’s actions were based on angel habits that he couldn’t quite shake off despite being a demon for centuries now. “Are there certain things that angels do that are similar to birds? Perhaps gifting? Collecting and gathering?” Barbatos says, trailing off once he sees the flabbergasted expression on Simeon’s face. 

It only takes a second but Simeon is quick to answer him, “Any behavior that a bird has, us angels had it first!” He corrects, finishing the rest of the tea.

Beside him, Solomon laughs. “They’re pretty much the same species, Barbatos. You don’t know how many times I’ve caught Simeon and Luke bringing in blankets just to cover the ones they already have on the couch in Purgatory Hall.” He informs smugly, dodging Simeon’s hands as the angel tries to shut him up. 

“Nesting is essential, Solomon.” Simeon huffs. Pouring more tea into his cup, Simeon sucks his teeth, “There is nothing wrong with a comfortable home.” 

“So it isn’t unusual for angels to… nest as you put it,” Barbatos confirms, his mind wandering off to his interaction with Mammon. If Mammon was nesting, why in his room? 

Simeon hums, “Well it depends on the stage of the nest. When either Luke or I bring in new things like blankets it’s for maintenance of the nest we already made. In the beginning stage, we bring in things like—“

“—furniture.” Barbatos interrupts catching Simeon and Solomon by surprise. 

Nodding, Simeon continues, “Well yes, but it ultimately it depends on the angel. Some angels like comfortable things, or colorful things, or even—“

“—shiny things.” Barbatos finishes, almost breathlessly. He looks down at his cup, tracing the rim of it with a gloved finger. He then lifts his head, “Is there a specific reason for one to nest?” Barbatos asks, sounding a little more urgent than he would like. 

Simeon simply shrugs, “Not every angel nests, and not every angel has a reason to nest. I nest because Luke is still a fledging and he needs a safe space or else his development will suffer. However, there are other reasons an angel might nest. For comfort, protection, or to show off.” Simeon finishes, going to take a bite of the dessert Barbatos had made for the meeting. 

“Show off?” Solomon echoes in confusion. “Show off for what?” 

“For who,” Simeon corrects after swallowing his sweet. “Some angels build nests to court other angels.” He informs as if it were common sense. 

Solomon’s face contorts to a shit-eating expression. “Have you ever tried to show off for me?” He says as sweetly as possible. Simeon rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t you have seven hundred wives? Can’t you flirt with one of them?” 

The residents of Purgatory Hall continue to bicker back and forth but Barbatos tunes them out. Simeon’s words repeat in his head over and over again. Courting? Mammon has been courting him this entire time? With a sense of dread, Barbatos goes to stand. 

He has made a grievous and heartless error. And he must fix it immediately. 

— 

When he finds Mammon, the Second-Born hands him a random bottle of wine that he accepts gracefully. 

“When you were bringing furniture into my room, Mammon. Were you nesting?” Barbatos asks bluntly. He watches as the Avatar of Greed stiffens at his words and nods slowly. 

“But ya didn’t like it,” Mammon whispers sadly. A small sad trilling noise escapes him and it pulls at Barbatos’ heartstrings despite him not showing it. 

“I didn’t know,” Barbatos whispers back. “I didn’t know you were courting me.” If he had, he would have at least let Mammon down gently. 

“I wasn’t courting you,” Mammon states, slightly annoyed. Barbatos’ head is practically reeling at his words. None of Mammon’s behavior has made sense and the little bit of information he was able to gain just appeared to be useless. 

“Ah,” Barbatos responds, unsure of what to say next. 

“We’re already mated,” Mammon informs him.

“Oh.” 

—

Being Mammon’s mate is… something. 

Mammon had explained that Barbatos complimenting his singing was in fact Barbatos agreeing to a relationship with him. How those two very separate things correlate with one another Barbatos isn’t sure. What he does understand is that it is frankly dumb. 

He expected much more attention and disturbance in his day-to-day routine. Furthermore, he expected this whole courting and mating thing not to last long due to arguing on his part but surprisingly none of that happened to be true. What ended up happening was Mammon treating Barbatos as if they weren’t mated. Nothing truly changed except the weekly gift-giving that Mammon said was absolutely necessary whether he liked it or not. When Barbatos brings it up, Mammon is able to explain. 

“Y’don’t like PDA. I’m okay with taking things at your pace.” They’re hushed away in a corner of the ballroom, watching as everyone celebrates the current event of the season. Mammon stands close to him, but not too close to draw any suspicion to either of them. 

Barbatos frowns, “I feel guilty. As if I have led you on.” He does genuinely feel bad. Mammon has devoted his time to planning each and every second he spends with Barbatos. If he cannot see him, Mammon makes sure to spoil Barbatos with thoughtful gifts such as the gloves he wears tonight. 

And here Barbatos is, not reciprocating anything in return. 

Mammon shakes his head, “Yer not. I’m not expecting anything special. I already know ya like me back.” 

His words make him freeze. “W-what? Mammon, when have I told you that I reciprocated your feelings?” Barbatos’ questions, eyes flickering between him and the guest of tonight who seemed too busy distracted by Lucifer and Diavolo dancing the night away. 

“Ya don’t have ta. I can see it through yer actions. Like when ya compliment my choice of gifts, or when ya let me put my nest back. If ya didn’t like me, wouldn’t have let me do that. You don’t let things like that carry on for long.” Mammon explains, raising his hands to clap when everyone else does. 

Barbatos follows suit, not caring what is going on publicly. Remaining silent, he thought hard about it. What he thought was being a good samaritan, apparently wasn’t clearly translated to Mammon. While he had let Mammon put his nest back and continue his bird mating habits, it was simply because he did not have the heart to shut Mammon’s shenanigans down. 

But now that he really looked at it from Mammon’s perspective, did he truly have feelings for Mammon? 

“We could start small.” Mammon continues, his eyes averted from the dance floor and linger on Barbatos. “In private, I mean. Hand holding, hugs, we could practice touching until yer comfortable to do it in public.” 

Barbatos feels like he’s suffering from whiplash. How has this conversation gone from explanations to talks of progressing their romantic relationship that he has just been made aware of? 

But instead of saying no or even breaking up with Mammon, Barbatos lets his curiosity get the best of him and nods. 

“Okay.” 

—

In the privacy of Barbatos’ room, Barbatos and Mammon sit crisscrossed in front of one another. They’ve been sitting on the rug that Mammon had put back in his room for about half an hour now and Barbatos thinks he should probably say something before it becomes too late to do anything. 

“Mammon, do you want to try holding hands?” Barbatos asks softly. 

Mammon hums, chuckling a bit, “I wanna do more than hold hands, sweetheart.” But despite the sexual innuendo in his words, Mammon blushes. “But yeah, we can hold hands if ya want.” 

Shuffling on his knees, Mammon moves closer to Barbatos until their knees are touching. Slowly, he grabs Barbatos’ wrist with one hand, and with the other, he digs a finger underneath the cuff of the gloves he gifted the older demon. Steady, he slides the glove off and watches as the fabric falls onto the carpet with a plop. 

Although it is simply Mammon taking off his glove, Barbatos can’t help but think about how lewd that was just now. With the way Mammon practically undressed his hand, Barbatos sure that if anything serious were to happen he wouldn’t last very long. 

Mammon grabs his bare hand with his and holds it firmly. “Is this okay?” 

Not trusting his voice, Barbatos nods. Mammon nods as well and then focuses back to their hands. Shifting his hand, Mammon goes to intertwining their fingers, holding his palm firm with his. 

“Is this okay?” Mammon whispers, red sitting pretty on his cheeks. Barbatos would tease him about it but he’s sure he is just as red as he is. Whatever composer he had left has been long gone. 

Barbatos nods vigorously, “It is more than okay.” He whispers back. 

They hold hands for what seems too short of a moment between them. The constant cheering and laughter coming from the ballroom seems to remind them that they should probably return to the festivities of the night. Neither of them makes the move to leave though. 

“So did’ya figure it out?” Mammon asks after a while of them sitting in silence. “That ya like me?” 

The words leave Barbatos before he can even think about it. “May I kiss you?” 

Mammon’s eyes widen and he pulls back from their space but he relaxes with the softest smile on his face. As gentle as a midnight breeze, Mammon places the quickest peck on Barbatos’ lips. 

In awe, Barbatos watches Mammon sit back with a grin. “Another one?” Barbatos asks. 

Mammon scoffs playfully before rolling his eyes. He raises himself on his knees once more and leans into Barbatos’ space and places another kiss on his lips. This time it’s a bit more of everything. A bit longer, a bit more passionate. 

A bit too short for Barbatos’ liking when Mammon pulls away. Barbatos, gripping Mammon a bit tighter, damn near whines. “Again?” 

“You could kiss me as much as you want, Barbatos.” Mammon smiled, “It’s practice.” 

It’s all the confirmation he needs to pull Mammon down with him and lock him in place. Taking one hand to hold Mammon’s chin, Barbatos presses his lips to Mammon’s. Instead of pulling away, Barbatos does the opposite and deepens the kiss further. 

He only parts from Mammon once he hears another round of cheering coming from the ballroom. “We… should head back Mammon,” Barbatos states, taking in Mammon as he fails to cover the flush in his face. 

This is ridiculous, absolutely stupid. He shouldn’t be entertaining any bit of this but instead going to stand he continues to do everything but go back to the party. He holds Mammon’s cheek and lightly plants kisses along his jaw before moving up to his cheek and then relatching to his lips. 

Mammon calls it “practice” but Barbatos doesn’t understand what they’re practicing for. It’s now Saturday morning and they’ve spent the last five hours of the night glued to one another just kissing. 

Their current position was rather promiscuous. Moving to the bed, Barbatos hovers over Mammon, his thighs spreading Mammon’s legs apart as Barbatos lays on top of him. One of Barbatos’ hands rests behind Mammon’s neck and his arm is curled under Mammon’s back holding him close. Mammon doesn’t lock Barbatos down with his ankles but does let his fingers run through green locks of hair. The most memorable part of their position was the kissing. 

Barbatos’ lips have come across every inch of Mammon’s face and neck by now. The only time Barbatos has parted from Mammon for more than 30 seconds was to change them both into something more comfortable. 

Even now, as Barbatos pushes their bodies together, tongue slipping past Mammon’s lips, groaning at the way Mammon moans into his mouth, all he can think about is how he wants to continue this until he has to get up to ready the castle that was supposed to be serviced an hour ago. 

Barbatos pulls away, looking down at Mammon who smiles back at him. The clicking sound comes back along with a few happy-sounding trills and it pulls a smile out of Barbatos. Pushing away the hair that has stuck to Mammon’s forehead, Barbatos gives him one more peck on his puffy lips before moving completely off of him. 

Panting, Barbatos watches as Mammon huffs along with him as he sits up. “This was not at all what you meant by touching was it?” Barbatos laughs breathlessly. 

Mammon laughs with him, “Nope! But s’greatly accepted.” He chirps, trilling away in the comfort of the pillows he bought for Barbatos. Barbatos’ lips twitch upwards at the sight. Mammon slowly blinks desperately trying to stay awake. With his hair a mess and clothes all wrinkled Barbatos can’t help but coo at the sight of him. 

He had to admit Mammon did look adorable. 

“I am extremely late for work.” Barbatos mumbles, picking up his D.D.D. and looking at the time. The countless messages from Diavolo and even some from Lucifer scold him for his lack of attention to his position. 

“Ya didn’t sleep,” Mammon tells him. Lazily, Mammon pulls the comforter down and shuffles over making space for Barbatos. He pats the spot beside him. 

“I have a job that I am committed to, Mammon,” Barbatos responds. He hopes that Mammon does not begin to argue with him about it. He’s always known that Barbatos was a busy demon. The time demon was not going to change his ways simply because Mammon had imprinted on him or whatever it was he’d convinced himself of. 

“I never said yer weren’t committed,” Mammon whispers. “But ya can’t be the best if yer fallin’ asleep on the job. Come lay down.” He orders gently. 

Pulling all-nighters is nothing unusual for him, but with the way Mammon opens his arms for him inviting him for a cuddle he can’t help but let the tired wash over him. As he crawls through the wrinkled mess of sheets and curls up in Mammon’s arms, he can hear the left and right sides of his brain argue over the decision. 

A quick text of not feeling well is sent to Diavolo before his phone is thrown aside. 

As he contemplates the past ten hours of his life, Barbatos allows the soothing melody of Mammon’s voice to lull him to sleep. 

— 

Mammon turns out to be a distraction. 

The week rolls by before Barbatos knows it and although it is completely peaceful, the itching of his greed gets the best of him. There’s a slight decrease in effort to perform his duties as steward as perfectly as possible, his attention in class cannot be accounted for, and there is a lack of care for anyone speaking directly to him other than his mate-sorta-not-mate. In short, Barbatos is a mess. 

He supposes that it is somewhat his own fault. Barbatos never truly let his greed run rampant as long as it has now. Whatever item caught his eye was quickly retrieved whether it was from this timeline or another. His greed was almost always sated immediately. He’s never experienced deprivation like other greed demons have. 

And unfortunately the apple of his eye this time happens to be Mammon. 

He’s all Barbatos thinks about as of late. What Mammon might be doing? Is he causing trouble or was he relaxing? Is he currently suffering from one of Lucifer’s punishments? Has he eaten? Would Mammon like his baked goods? Should he try preparing spicy foods? Would Mammon prefer a dish made by him? Does Mammon miss him? Is Mammon thinking of him? 

Dear all things sinful, this was getting pathetic. 

But the more he thinks about Mammon, the more he wants to be near him, holding him, kissing him—

The kitchen door bursts open and surprise, surprise Mammon strides in with a giddy look once he spots him. “I’m not here for long, I promise.” He says, practically skipping over to him. 

He pulls out a goodie bag and slides it to him over the counter. His fingers pat the edge of the kitchen counter excitedly as he watches Barbatos open the goodie bag and a smile forms on his face. 

“Ya like?” Mammon asks, desperately waiting for Barbatos’ approval. 

Barbatos hums, “I do, Mammon. Thank you. But may I pry, where do you get these? Some of these tea bags are not in season.” The last thing he wants is to be enjoying tea that has been stolen. 

Mammon gloats in the praise, “Haha, of course, ya like it. I am the Great Mammon and my gifts are the best!” He says. He pauses once he’s realized that he’s been asked a question. “Oh. I go down to the ports. One of the lower demons gives them to me in exchange for free labor.” 

Barbatos pauses before giving Mammon a disbelieving look. Not only because Mammon is doing manual labor just to bring Barbatos four tea bags that will soon be put on a shelf.

But because there’s some lower, not worth mentioning moron, is giving things to Mammon. His mate-positively-sure-mate! 

Just like that, a flare of Greed overwhelms them both, and Mammon’s lips split into a shit-eating grin. “Are ya jealous?” 

“I am not.” Barbatos lies. Mammon disregards his words as he walks away giggling but not before letting Barbatos kiss him. 

If the lower demon down at the port randomly goes missing, Mammon doesn’t say anything. 

—

Barbatos figures that he doesn’t really like Mammon, he just likes playing his role as the Avatar’s mate. 

Simeon tells him otherwise during their weekly tea. Luckily for him, Solomon is too busy bothering Asmodeus after being nagged by Simeon for shamelessly flirting with anyone in sight. When Barbatos catches him up Simeon’s jaw drops. 

“That’s why you asked me all those questions?” Simeon said, a happy glint in his eyes. “Who would have guessed you and Mammon?” 

“It is not as if I like him, Simeon,” Barbatos says, taking a sip of his tea. 

Simeon scoffs, “You just spent the past half hour telling me how nice it was to kiss Mammon.” He sets his teacup down on its designated plate. “Not to mention you called out sick just to cuddle with him.” 

“Kisses are nice in general,” Barbatos says automatically as if he were reading from a dictionary. He was not even going to address the other part. 

Simeon’s eyes narrow. “Alright, would you kiss Solomon?” He asks cautiously, analyzing the look on Barbatos’ face. 

Barbatos looks disgusted. “Absolutely not.” 

“Why not?” 

There is a beat of silence before Barbatos speaks. 

“Because… he’s not Mammon.” 

— 

When Lucifer stands in front of him arms crossed with a hard look, Barbatos can’t help but feel numb. He had forgotten that if he was dealing with Mammon he was also dealing with Lucifer by extension. To make matters worse, Mammon happens to be Lucifer’s favorite no matter how much the eldest brother denies it. 

“Mammon tells me..” Lucifer begins, unsure how to start the conversation. “That you, the both of you, are involved… romantically.” He finishes. Red eyes look him and down expectingly. 

Barbatos isn’t sure of what to say. To be frank he’s still making sense of the fact that he and Mammon are involved romantically and have been apparently for the past three weeks. 

“We are?” Barbatos says although it comes out more like a question. 

“Are you not sure?” Lucifer asks him. He then sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Please do not tell me you have let yourself be coerced into a relationship.” 

“It is only coercion if I am unwilling.” Barbatos mumbles, catching them both by surprise. There’s a pause of silence before Barbatos continues, “He tells me we’re mated.” Barbatos informs him. 

His words were true. After a long consideration of what others might deem make-outs and cuddles, Barbatos came to realize that he did enjoy Mammon’s company. He didn’t hate the idea of being Mammon’s mate at all. 

“And you are okay with that?” Lucifer presses, looking for any sign of displeasure from the royal steward. “Let me illiterate, do you understand what that means?” 

“It means,” Barbatos trails off trying to come up with the words, “that I am involved with a bird.” 

A gargled noise escapes Lucifer. “I just want to make clear that I value you as a friend Barbatos. But I am not above choosing Mammon over you at any point in time.” Lucifer tells him sternly. 

Barbatos ignores the way it sounds more threatening than basic shovel talk. He’s sure that the rest of the brothers will come to him one by one and present him with threats but he will deal with that later. Instead, he hands Lucifer a teacup on top of a matching plate. 

“Yes, yes. Aren’t you a devoted brother,” Barbatos teases before pulling a stool in front of Lucifer and sits down. “Now tell me, will I have to perform a dance or gift your brother a rock?” 

—

The night comes soon enough and Barbatos finds himself being pampered. Mammon suggested that he help get him ready for bed. What Barbatos thought was going to be a quick change of clothes and a tuck into bed turned out to be quick exchanges of kisses and nuzzling. 

Now Mammon has Barbatos sat in a chair as he brushes his hair. Barbatos sits contently, eyes closed, as he indulges in the way the brush softly strokes his scalp. The sounds of soft trills and clicks fill the room. Barbatos pulls away for a second before turning to Mammon, “Is this another of your bird traits?” He asks the younger demon. 

“Uh,” Mammon says, “I dunno. It just feels right. You could see it as preenin’.” 

“Preening,” Barbatos echoes. He summons all the knowledge he’s read about bird behavior on his phone last night and comes up blank. 

“Yeah, but ya don’t have wings so I’m just pamperin’ ya.” Mammon explains simply, going back to brushing Barbatos’ hair. 

“Ah.” Barbatos responds dumbly. He looks at Mammon through the mirror and figures this is an appropriate time to say what he is about to say, “I like you.” 

Mammon freezes, “I know y’do.” 

“I did not say it,” Barbatos tells him a bit sadly, “When you asked me the night of the event.” 

“S’okay,” Mammon smiles at him, “We have the rest of our lives to tell each other we like one another.” 

Barbatos gives him a look of confusion and Mammon kisses his temple, “They didn’t tell you?” 

“Tell me what?” 

“That angels' mate for life,” Mammon responds looking Barbatos straight in the eye. “We wouldn’t be mates unless one of us dies.” 

Barbatos, although he should be shocked or angry, isn’t. He simply grabs one of Mammon’s hands and kisses his knuckles. “Good thing we are immortal then.” He says, looking up at Mammon. 

“Yeah,” says Mammon. “And it’s not like we’re in danger.” He adds, giving Barbatos a saccharine stare back. 

“Who knows when we’ll ever be,” Barbatos tells him, dragging Mammon towards the mattress. Once the younger demon is tucked in, Barbatos allows himself to be nuzzled by the trilling fallen angel beside him. “Could be years.” 

“Centuries.” 

“An eternity.” Barbatos finishes. He plants one passionate kiss on Mammon’s lips. 

He’s rather glad that this dummy chose him. 

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 43: MORE TAPE(S)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Extreme Smut

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

Two days had passed and you were back home in Dublin, confronted with a sex-tape between Cillian and his assistant Kit that, by now, had spread like wildfire, making you uncomfortable and emotional every time a notification popped up on your social media accounts, alerting you to the video. All of your friends and acquaintances had, by now, sent this to you and you were sick of it.

Reaching for his phone, Cillian shut off the recording, unable to bear witnessing further humiliation in front of you. The walls of his luxury apartment closed in on him, suffocating in an oppressive shroud of shame.

"My own daughter has seen this and so has my son! Fuck!" Cillian groaned aloud, pacing agitatedly in the room. He turned to you with a look of desperation, his eyes pleading for understanding. Despite your resignation to the fact, your heart went out to him, feeling sympathy and guilt for placing him in this predicament.

"You know you can sue her for this, right?" you suggested hesitantly, clasping his hands softly, trying to offer whatever solace you could provide. Though your intentions were pure, you couldn't help but notice Cillian's reluctance.

"No, this would make things worse, I think," Cillian responded solemnly, running his fingers through his tousled hair in distraction.

A heavy silence settled upon the two of you as reality seeped in – there was no escaping the consequences of this event. No amount of legal action could undo the damage already done.

"Will you at least confront her about it?" you asked, seeing that she had filmed this without his knowledge and then leaked it to the press in spite.

"Yes, I am meeting with her tomorrow. My lawyer has sent her a letter to address the issue privately at first. But legal action? It would just create more publicity which I don't want for Nina's sake," Cillian revealed, looking downward, defeated. 

"I understand, Cills and I think that you should tell her exactly how devastating this is for everyone involved, especially your children. Surely, she can see this. You need to be firm," you advised earnestly, trying to impart strength to his weakening spirit. He nodded gratefully, appreciating your support during this challenging period.

"I will be firm Y/N. I promise," Cillian responded resolutely, pulling away from your touch with newfound determination. He needed to maintain composure now more than ever; letting emotions overwhelm him wouldn't serve anyone's best interest. Instead, it required coolness, levelheadedness, and strategizing. The battle was about to begin, and it wasn't one easily won.

Kit, his once trustworthy employee, had betrayed him in the worst possible way.

The very thought made him nauseous. How could she film them doing something so personal and share it with the entire world? The anger boiling inside of him threatened to consume him entirely.

Walking around aimlessly throughout the day, you noticed his turmoil increasing tenfold. Every step he took echoed with uncertainty and doubt; you could sense that something truly dramatic was about to unfold. After hours of deliberation, Cillian finally decided to take matters into his own hands, requesting a change of scenery.

"We should do something nice after I deal with this tomorrow. Just you and me," he suggested, and you smiled faintly, grateful for any respite from this hellish storm. Glancing at his tired features, a wave of protectiveness swept over you. It was essential to stay strong for him, offering moral support where necessary.

"That sounds perfect. We need a break from all this madness," you agreed, smiling warmly at him. As you looked into his weary eyes, you felt a mix of love, admiration, and concern, knowing just how difficult this whole debacle had become for him.

"How about a trip to somewhere like the Maldives? I have never been there, and Dermont reckons it's quite nice. Just you and me on the beach," Cillian proposed with a sparkle in his eye, as though daring you to imagine the possibility.

Your stomach fluttered, excitement building within you at the prospect of exploring such an idyllic destination while, at the same time, you knew that you could not leave Ireland now without risking being denied re-entry upon your return.

Your visa was about to run out and you needed to address this issue before embarking on a vacation.

"Cillian, I would love to go on a holiday with you, but I can't leave the country right now. My student visa expires soon, and I don't know what to do about it just yet. I am working on it though. But, if I leave Ireland now, I can't return without a new visa in place," you explained sheepishly, avoiding his gaze.

His expression shifted instantly, a mixture of disappointment and frustration flashing across his features.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Cillian murmured softly, his eyes filled with understanding and worry.

Flinching momentarily, you admitted to him the difficulties you faced due to your impending immigration issues.

"Well, you've got your birthday coming up. You also have more important things to worry about at the moment and the premieres next month...I didn't want to burden you with my problems. I was just going to sort it out, but it proved to be much more difficult than I had anticipated, " you said and your words trailed off as your shoulders slumped, indicating your defeat.

Cillian wrapped an arm around your waist tenderly, displaying solidarity amidst adversity.

"Listen Y/N, you are my priority! I will ask my lawyer about this tomorrow after dealing with Kit. There must be an option if you want to stay. You may be able to change your visa to another visa or something," he said, and his tone exhibited care and understanding, allowing you to lean on him for support. "You do want to stay here, don't you?" Cillian questioned, wanting affirmation that his plan for staying together wasn't merely wishful thinking.

"Yes, Cillian. Of course I want to stay here. With you. I love you. Despite, Emma is staying in Ireland too. She is moving to Cork soon, and I want to be close to her as well," you expressed sincerely, locking eyes with him to convey your commitment.

His relief was palpable, and he held you closer still, promising to find a solution.

"Good. I am glad. Because there is no fucking way, I will ever let you go again," Cillian proclaimed confidently, taking charge of both situations which were now overshadowing your happiness.

"Dublin is my home now Cillian, so don't worry!" you replied cheerily but, just as you did, a bound of nausea hit you again, forcing you to make a mad dash to the bathroom.

Cillian, worried, followed behind and gently placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, whispering sweet words of encouragement, easing your anxiety somewhat.

He led you towards the bedroom afterwards, sitting beside you carefully, ensuring you felt comfortable enough to discuss the matter openly, thinking that the nausea was the result of your stress levels lately.

Feeling better physically, Cillian reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers lovingly. His eyes searched yours intently, seeking confirmation of your feelings regarding the situation.

"I hate seeing you like this, because of what Kit has done..." Cillian told you, but you interrupted him.

"No, it's not because of this. I am just hormonal. My cycle is all over the place ever since the surgery and I think that this is why I feel sick sometimes, "you tried to explain your condition, hoping that he understood the physical strain it put on you.

Cillian nodded sympathetically, wrapping you tightly in his arms, providing much-needed comfort.

"You should probably see someone about this again," he offered kindly, genuine concern evident in his voice. Your brow furrowed slightly in response, sensing the underlying undertone of concern rather than dismissal.

"I will, once you have dealt with Kit," you conceded, pondering the idea seriously for the first time. Your health had always taken a backseat, considering the recent surgeries and recoveries, coupled with the chaos surrounding the scandal. And perhaps this constant stress wasn't helping either.

"No, let's make sure we prioritise your health," Cillian remarked solemnly, adding weight to the conversation.

"Okay, I will get an appointment scheduled," you promised reluctantly, aware that the stress might eventually cause serious complications. Nevertheless, you couldn't help feeling irritated that these small concerns seemed to dominate most of your life currently.

With an aching heart, you glanced at your lover, acknowledging the gravity of the situation involving Kit and what you suggested next caught Cillian by suprise.

"You know, maybe, we should do something a little bit adventurous. Maybe this will take our minds off this video your crazy ass assistant shared on the internet," you teased playfully, your lips curling into a wicked smile.

"What do you have in mind?" Cillian asked, intrigued, as his eyebrows raised salaciously, a gleam of mischief lighting up his eyes.

"Something kinkier than anything we've done before," you told him before sliding down onto his lap.

"Okay. You have my attention. Tell me what you want to do," Cillian asked eagerly, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

A delicious thrill coursed through your veins as you contemplated the possibilities. The seductive power dynamics between you two made the air thick with sexual energy.

"I want us to explore some boundaries," you began slowly, savoring the taste of the forbidden fruit.

As you breathed heavily, trying to steady yourself against his chest, you continued, "And do things that we haven't even talked about."

Cillian swallowed hard, his breath catching. "Like what?" he ventured hesitantly, a hint of trepidation crossing his face.

You grinned wickedly, running your tongue along your bottom lip.

"Well, you are an actor, aren't you? So, how about some role play?"  You suggested coquettishly, letting your imagination run wild with various ideas dancing inside your head.

"I am all ears," Cillian said, his curiosity piqued.

"Well, we could pretend to be strangers meeting for the first time at a hotel. Then we could indulge in our fantasies, testing boundaries in our roles – teacher and student, doctor and patient, maybe even a dominant and submissive scenario," you mentioned, excited by the thought of turning the tables and experiencing each other differently.

"And we will film it, but just for us," you added, causing a wave of nervousness to ripple through him. Cillian hesitated briefly, his mind processing everything rapidly. Finally, he took a deep breath and accepted the challenge.

"I need to buy a camera first," he started, finally breaking the silence that hung heavy in the room. 

"Of course," you agreed, smiling warmly. The intensity of the discussion had increased exponentially, and your body burned with desire. It was almost painful to contain yourself, longing to experience the scenarios you discussed. As you kissed passionately, tangled limbs entwined in an erotic dance of pleasure, but your excitement was short lived as, suddenly, the doorbell rang startling you both.

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[thegeminisage]

star trek: the motion picture rewrite

star trek the motion picture was bad so i'm fixing it. here's how

problem #1: everybody got interesting setups and nobody got any payoffs.

problem #2: ilia and decker were just not that interesting (sorry ilia and decker) and they either needed to be more interesting or have less screen time or both.

problem #3: it took more than half the film for the enterprise to even leave earth. this seems like poor pacing, which the overall film also suffers from.

problem #4: those damn 20-minute cgi scenery sequences. enough is enough.

sorry in advance but this post won't make much sense if you haven't seen the first star trek movie, "star trek: the motion picture." i don't have the time or patience to re-explain the entire plot! the novelization also ties into this but i do explain some of that.

MAIN PLOT

it wasn't a GREAT plot but i'm keeping it mostly the same, except a few changes:

the enterprise leaves much earlier in the film. all the interpersonal drama can happen ON THE WAY to v'ger and it would make very little difference to the main script and series of events, but the reminds that they're only x hours away from interception would help keep things tense and moving along. also, it would get spock in here earlier. we went a LONG time without seeing him.

the engines can still fail at the outset and get fixed by spock, but it's kind of weird that he shows up out of nowhere. i would change this to kirk leaving him messages - and spock finally answering at the exact right moment (more on this in spock's section)

less of those long cgi sequences, obviously. the enterprise deserves all the fanfare in the world but we do have other stuff to do. maybe we can learn a little about v'ger through the ilia-probe in bits and pieces before we get there rather than learning all at once at the end - the book sort of did that and it was better. but i think we just need to cut them to allow time for a LITTLE more interpersonal drama - the balance of interpersonal stuff to plot stuff was WAY off, even after you consider how the tos episodes are somtimes

i don't think decker should fuck the probe.

the book and movie seem to disagree on whether the ilia-probe really "is" ilia or a very convincing copy. i think we would do better to leave it open, as scifi so often is, because both answers feel slightly wrong to me

kirk just taking the ship at the end and going "ok thattaway" was heartwarming but lacks any semblance of logic. rather than beaming down to debrief, though - in case they don't let him go back up - i'd like to see him doing a power move where the required personnel for his debrief come to HIM. and THEN when the dust clears he can go "thattaway"

CHARACTER ARC: KIRK

there's a lot more on this in the book than the movie, but kirk begins this story three years post his five year journey. in the movie he's framed as "washed up" but the book sometimes implies he's "damaged." starfleet offered him the promotion to admiral to keep him out of space because his was the first ship to come back relatively intact after a five-year and they're using him as a poster boy for their pro-space propaganda. (kirk wholly disagrees with "intact"; he lost a total of 94 crew members over those five years and objects strongly to his new legendary fame.) it's worth noting that bones begged him NOT to take the promotion and he and some other officers actually RESIGNED over it.

also, for the first year back on earth, starfleet totally just SENT HIM A WOMAN? to like keep him distracted and "happy." he got honeypotted into not going back out into space. how many planets have tried to trap people by making them happy? how many times has kirk refused to stay in such a place because it leaves him nothing to strive for? and then, irony of horrific ironies, he was trapped on earth. he doesn't realize this woman was basically sent to pacify him until the very beginning of the film/book. anyway, this woman's name is lori, she's gonna matter just a little bit later. after she left, kirk got pushed into a desk job he was utterly fucking miserable in. he notes that it was the only time he ever ignored bones's advice and he suffered greatly for it.

when the "intruder" (v'ger, obvs) is revealed to be approaching earth (via brain implants? stupid, let's just switch to everyone seeing it on TV), kirk, for totally normal reasons, jumps at the chance to take the enterprise away from decker ostensibly because he's got more experience but also because (the book gets into this) he feels like he's been jerked around on a string for the last three years by the admirals (specifically he names nogura to give us a face but they were all in on it) and also that he's totally dead inside. he has to guilt trip bordering on BLACKMAIL nogura into letting him back aboard (ie bringing up the fact that he placated kirk with a woman and sweet promises instead of like...actually caring about his PTSD). we're keeping that part because it's sexy and fun.

the question the movie seems to be asking is, "is jim kirk too old and feeble to captain the enterprise again?" i would like to posit instead we go with "is jim kirk too DAMAGED to captain the enterprise again?" they really put him through the wringer in season 3 in particular and that total nervous breakdown from the romulan espionage episode was supposed to have been REAL before they changed it, so i'm sticking it in that three year timeskip instead. in the book, jim fucks up several times - can't figure out his seatbelt, gets lost, and notably fails to be able to save his former honeypot lori and his new vulcan first officer (off-brand spock) during a transport malfunction - they get rearranged horrifically and then die right in front of him. rather than frame this as jim being old and out of practice i'd like to frame it around the totally untreated PTSD of space and his five-year finally catching up to him.

the book ALSO gets into how jim feels more at home in space, how being away from it gives him physical symptoms almost like withdrawal, and how he felt he has been brought back from the dead and out of a miserable, meaningless life when stepping aboard for the first time. IMPORTANT FOR LATER.

at the same time though i think we might greatly benefit from mixed feelings - perhaps JIM HIMSELF has wondered if he was too damaged to get back out there - if, after everything, part of him wasn't a little hesitant to go back out into the unknown and risk putting himself through the kind of hell he got put through in some of those later tos episodes. maybe he wanted the captaincy to prove it to himself, yes, but also it was something he was determined to do (even though part of him was a little worried about doing it) because he thought he was the only one that COULD. there's a hidden element in this film of facing one's fears to benefit emotionally, so it would be important to squeeze something like this in, even if it's only in hints or light implications.

the ultimate answer to jim's question of course is that he ISN'T too damaged to be back out in space, especially not if spock and bones and the others are out there with him. but to get into that we have to move to...

CHARACTER ARC: DECKER AND ILIA

i'm putting these 2 together because (sorry) i don't care very much. side characters in trek are always supposed to just highlight the main characters anyway, right? again, i'm so sorry. anyway so. in the movie and especially the book, ilia is pretty constantly sexualized - deltan females and their pheromones or whatever - and she has very little personality. decker is mostly just mad (justifiably) that kirk stole his job after 18 months of prep and sad that ilia got zapped, but we feel neither of these things very strongly. the movie doesn't even MENTION decker's father killing himself in space* which is a huge waste of potential when you consider the name of the game re: kirk's arc, at least in the book, is PTSD.

*matt decker, will decker's father, is the captain from doomsday machine (consider this a spoiler warning): when a giant machine showed up and engaged in battle with his ship, the constellation, he evacuated his crew to a nearby planet and stayed behind, planning to go down with the ship. unfortunately the machine was a planet-eater, and ate the planet his crew was on, so his crew all died while he listened to them beg him for help, and he later tried to suicide bomb the machine with the enterprise and then later one of its shuttles, which tragically ended in his mostly-pointless death. kirk did at least use the idea to suicide bomb the machine with the damaged constellation and have himself beamed out just in time though, and he had the record made that matt decker died in the line of duty, omitting some of his shadier actions so as not to stain his memory or whatever.

ANYWAY, i think the only way to make decker and ilia interesting is to foil them with kirk and spock. decker is who kirk was before his five-year: smart, capable, ready to take on anything and chomping at the bit to get out there and bite off as much as he can chew and then some. also, he's emotionally distant from women because of his status as captain/his need to not be tied down so he can explore space.

ILIA on the other hand is more like spock - she has limited telepathic abilities, she is othered and sometimes sexualized by the people around her because of her VULCAN BIOLOGY sorry because of her race, and she has a passion for learning and pursuits of intellect. and also a semi-formal telepathic link with decker - they had met before, and were preparing to bond (the way a vulcan might), and then decker more or less got cold feet and left her at the altar because his own passion for being in space left him unable to commit. but she WENT AFTER HIM (important for later) and wound up as the enterprise navigator.

for decker, instead of showing kirk up once near the beginning, apologizing, and gradually learning to get along with him, i think i'd like him to be showing kirk up a lot - being subtly snide when kirk can't work his seatbelt, for example. this film has no real antagonist aside from an incomprehensible alien entity, but we could bring a little humanity to it by having decker justifiably resent not only being confronted with ilia again but also having his captaincy snatched away from him after EIGHTEEN. MONTHS. of prep. that's some serious bullshit.

but, while decker IS younger and more familiar with the enterprise's redesign, while he's had more recent space hours and suffers from none of kirk's PTSD, what he lacks is experience - this was the whole basis of kirk taking the fucking ship to begin with, and the movie as it is kind of totally invalidates that plot point. to that end, near the end of the film when they're in v'ger, i would make a bigger deal out of kirk knowing better than to perform the scan - because that's what got the klingons killed (when v'ger interpreted their scan as hostile). decker, shaken, realizes his own hasty decision would have resulted in all of them dying horrifically, and rather than kirk grudgingly respecting decker first, we get it the other way around - decker grudgingly respecting kirk, and kirk returning that respect after decker stops being an asshole. this does the job of helping the AUDIENCE respect kirk after spending so much time wondering if he was indeed too washed up and damaged to do the job, and it helps to begin to warm us up to decker too.

also, it would be fun to have decker overhear bones arguing with kirk or spock or even talking to chapel or something, to know that kirk was thought too washed up EVEN BY THE ADMIRALS (who decker does respect bc he doesn't know better yet), and then for decker to realize later kirk got jerked around - and maybe realize, once he begins to see kirk as a person instead of an obstacle, that something like that might be in his own future even if he succeeds in almost every possible way, as kirk had. we might even use this to get into decker's dad basically killing himself after losing his crew - it can go other ways than right for captains. it can also go so, so, so wrong. (this would require some exposition, though, since we can't expect everyone to have both seen the episode and remember the details.)

another moment that wasn't used to its full potential is when decker basically has to honeypot the ilia probe - this is extremely difficult on him emotionally, and kirk knows all about the perils of emotionally difficult honeypot missions (sorry that i'm linking to this twice). i think decker realizing kirk has done this same kind of thing like a zillion times and that's part of what led to his breakdown gives him respect not just for KIRK but for the position of captain itself - he would have no choice but to do this to protect 500 lives, if it were him. you don't get to tap out when you're captain. and this is good for kirk too, because in sympathizing with decker (and the horrific situation of having to honeypot the image of his dead lover) he can learn to sympathize with himself, and forgive himself for being at less than his best during his own worst moments - some of them during the five-year, some of them after, when he felt weak and without purpose. it also gives him the job of connecting the audience to decker - through him, through thinking of decker as a younger version of him, we can forgive decker for being an asshole earlier and sympathize with his pain. and he becomes someone we root for.

as for ilia - i think she should have gotten to yell at decker rather than passively act like he wasn't even there and hide her pain. her pain at being left behind and betrayed and having to find her own way could mirror spock's (more on this in a sec) but it could also mirror v'ger and its abandonment issues, even though she was abandoned by a boyfriend and not god. there's only so much you can do with truly misogynistic writing but she could've been likable!! her sitch and spock's are the same and she gets to complain while he refuses! even one iota of a personality would have helped so much.

ALSO, on that point, at least one conversation between her and spock would have done a lot to make her more interesting too, because then she would be adjacent to him. spock, too, left his home planet to chase after a space captain he was in um a relationship with, and that bit of kinship ("your answers are not here") could lead to a bonding moment - i think spock would respect what she's doing and that would lend her a lot of credit in the eyes of the audience. much like v'ger, much like spock, ilia has left her home to find out who she is, and part of that answer lies within emotion, within the people she loves: in this case, decker. i would also, if we HAVE to fridge her (DO WE?? more on this in the ending section), choose to have her take a blow meant for decker - her last act being one of love, because the film IS ultimately about love's importance, even in spite of all the pain it also causes (see: decker in his grief).

which leads us to...

CHARACTER ARC: BONES

we have to have a brief interlude here for bones. unfortunately, bones in this movie is little more than an extremely loveable afterthought. while fixing his ENTIRE deal is out of the scope of this tumblr post, what i WOULD do is give him more screentime by having both his AND spock's lives upended by the same event: kirk, the Main Character(tm), choosing to take the admiral stripes and "abandon" them.

i think theres enough evidence in tos to argue the case that bones places a lot of importance on jim and spock's lives - he claims to hate space, but he never resigns, and he finds meaning in taking care of them, even if (to my own interpretation), he can sometimes feel like a third wheel to their legendary "friendship" (so legendary that it's historically important both in-universe and in real life). when kirk agrees to "retire" and let starfleet make him their poster boy because he has PTSD and burnout, bones CANONICALLY objects to what starfleet is trying to do to him so strongly that he literally resigns. again, kirk notes in the book that "retiring" is the only time he ever ignored bones's advice and he came regret it deeply. so kirk needs bones back - in the book, he says outright he needs bones back because he, gaslit, cannot trust himself to be making solid calls emotionally, and he wants bones to call him out if he steps out of line.

for fun, i think bones should be a little more pissed about being "drafted" and like genuinely grumpy rather than fond and gruff - at least, until kirk apologizes. he tells bones all about being yanked around by the admirals and being honeypotted and how much he regretted not listening to his advice...and the gaslighting, not bones's medical expertise, is why kirk feels he needs bones now - why all of earth needs him, because this is a mission to save the entire planet. i think bones LOVES to be needed and especially by jim and/or spock, and he of course has a natural desire to caretake, so after the apology he could soften up to "gruff." he found meaning in what he was doing on earth, but he finds meaning in this too, and kirk telling him that of COURSE he can leave if he wants solidifies his decision to stay, even at the end of the film when the immediate threat has passed. put simply: he loves kirk and spock, and, like them, he wants the three of them to stay together, even though they previously broke his heart.

i think also that once spock comes aboard this gives bones a second job, which is to poke holes in spock's outward unemotional demeanor, which he genuinely is doing from a place of love (since it was bones who said the release of emotions is healthy). instead of standing around and being a lovable and nostalgic set piece, this would give him an actual purpose and an arc, even if his arc (healing spock via negging, healing jim via not gaslighting people) is holding up the other characters.

and speaking of spock...

CHARACTER ARC: SPOCK

post five-year, spock goes back to vulcan to undergo the kolinahr, a ritual meant to purge all remaining emotion from vulcans. he does this because he detests his human half and the many weaknesses and challenges it brings him etc etc but i also would like it if he does this because kirk retires - he has no logical, ready-made excuse to be around kirk and bones anymore, and just like kirk, he truly felt at home on the enterprise, where people valued him for his skill and what he could do rather than what he was (or wasn't). (this sentiment from spock is semi-canonical - it's in william shatner's tarsus iv novel, collision course.) kirk and bones are both an important part of his support system and it is crumbling without any way to save it - of COURSE he chooses not to feel emotion rather than face that pain. every human being ever has wished at some point or another they could numb themselves rather than hurt, and spock is half human, too. (that said, i would also not complain if kohlinahr was spock's way to escape the trauma of what the five-year did to HIM, making him feel emotions differently than what he believed was acceptable, changing him fundamentally as a person, and kirk only agreed to resign because space wasn't worth it without spock aka because he got dumped, but this is a minor detail.)

while on vulcan, kirk, equally adrift, sends him messages (this does admittedly make more sense if kirk only resigned because spock did) - but spock is potentially kind of mad at him (if kirk resigned first) and also trying not to feel anything, so he ignores those and goes out into the desert to get rid of all his gross icky feelings. when the masters read his mind and see that jim accidentally contacted him telepathically (which...girl WHAT was that all about did they bond fr during amok time) and that "his answer is not here," he reads or listens to all the messages at once (maybe including the deleted one spock prime had from aos...ouch), gets emotional (or resists, but it's a near thing), and realizes that if he can't purge kirk from his mind he has to at least find out why. the last message can be about the intruder (v'ger) and their fucked up engines, spock can feel reluctant concern and race to the rescue.

spock is initially very very cold to his old shipmates because he is trying to hold onto his logic and not allow the emotion back in his mind, but absolutely nobody is having this. like in the movie, kirk and bones drag him away to the lounge to interrogate him (he should admit to feeling kirk telepathically here just as he did in the book - i don't know that i'd go into the whole bond business in this movie because that's just writing fanfiction and is also a lot of exposition but i would never deny fanfic writers their fodder).

later, after talking with ilia, who did a brave thing (in spock's eyes, anyway, because he is terrified of what HE'S doing) by chasing down her man to give him an earful, spock is troubled, which prompts bones to start going IS THAT AN EMOTION I SEE MR SPOCK? (and make him more troubled). i think spock grieves ilia's death in his own way because of how much like him she is, or was. all of this culminates in his choice to attempt to mind-meld with v'ger, in the end - if he isn't a human and isn't a vulcan, WHAT is he? if he can't live with the emotion and he can't purge it, what is he supposed to do? if he dies in the mindmeld so be it, but at least he will have been useful - iirc, i think it was roddenberry or leonard nimoy who said that was always a primary motivation of his.

of course, AFTER the mindmeld, he does indeed realize that logic is pointless without emotion, and that he's been adrift not BECAUSE of his emotions but because of his refusal to deal with them and his refusal to feel. so spock, too, will decide to stay at the end of the film.

side bar on the scene where spock cries for v'ger: it's kind of dumb because v'ger is so unknowable. i think spock crying could be a bigger deal - maybe with happiness, as he holds jim's hand, or maybe when he thinks they're all gonna die (kirk says when he sees spock crying "it's not for us" but like what if it was though). i'd prefer him to cry after he finishes laughing post mindmeld of course but either instance could work.

and finally...

THE ENDING

i don't mind the ending in its plot - that v'ger really was just looking for its creator, as a child looks for its parent - but i really want the question of whether or not the probe IS ILIA to remain open. if you make an exact copy of a person that truly believes it is the original, is it? if it's indistinguishable from who ilia used to be even to itself, is it ilia? i like leaving this open because i DON'T like fridging her, but i also think it stretches believability to have this machine magically extract a consciousness and put it in a robot when we had a whole episode of s1 revolve around this exact same plot twist (is chapel's now-android fiance really still her fiance just because he thinks he is?)

it should be spock's idea to have a human join with v'ger - it was the joining with humans that ultimately led to HIS feeling emotions he was unable to ignore, which ultimately led to his understanding and acceptance of emotion and its value in general. spock would see the ilia probe as still being ilia, but in distress, as he was when he came aboard the enterprise, as v'ger is now. and he knows what fixed him (holding jim's hand lol sorry i mean accepting his emotions) and what would fix her.

and then of course decker does join with her - volunteers, insists even. i think he takes the chance on optimism and hope - something kirk lost along the way due to various traumas - but also because this film is about the importance of love, and he can't bear to live without his, even in facsimile. it's partially a sacrifice too though - decker's life and body as he knows it in exchange for the earth's safety - because that's what kirk would have done, what he HAS done. he did learn from kirk after all.

and kirk learns from him too - decker, who by now will know about the awful years the brass put kirk through prior to the start of the film, would tell kirk to give 'em hell, like it's something that can actually be done, because at his heart he's an optimist, and that's something kirk sorely needs emotionally at this low point in his life. a very gen-z-saving0the-millennials moment. (apologies to both gen z and millennials.)

so after the dust has settled, kirk, who has just saved earth, can basically ask for anything he wants, and what he wants is not to get sent out to pasture again. so that leads into him refusing to leave the ship and letting the admirals and everyone else who wants to debrief him come to HIM instead of him going down - he finally has back what he needed, which was simply control and agency over his own life, and his loved ones - since spock and bones decided to stay aboard. i would have liked some challenging action moment prior to the ending with the ilia-probe and decker included, a moment to highlight that kirk has still got it (kind of like his badass moment in the deadly years where he saves the ship in .2 seconds once they cure his dementia). but insisting that they see v'ger directly and not deal with its probe is okay too.

FINALLY, after we've established that kirk is In Control again and not just like, stealing a starship, we can do his scene where he begins a new five-year mission, and when directing sulu, says, "out there - thattaway."

THEMES

HOPEFULLY this ties together the various themes and foils in everybody's arc - the main ones being the importance of dealing with emotions, even painful ones, the importance of love, and the question "who am i?" - the theme of seeking answers

kirk wants to know who he is - is he still a starship captain who braved the unknown and returned alive? he tried to numb himself (or rather starfleet tried to numb him) after his five-year mission with a woman and a desk job and it didn't help - he had to risk getting back out there to do himself any good at all.

spock asks if he is a vulcan or a human, and seeks to answer the question by purging emotion, but must answer it by accepting the emotion instead - and he learns this from v'ger, who is asking the same question and cannot answer it without emotion anymore than spock could. spock is and always will be both vulcan AND human and no amount of resistance on his part can change that.

bones feels adrift without loved ones to take care of - who is HE if kirk won't even listen to his advice not to "retire" - and of course he is someone who takes care of others. which is a little sad because it's not a deeper arc, but it sort of rhymes with his whole deal in tos and there ARE five other movies. there's also a little bit in there about being willing to try again after your heart's been broken, which is also something kirk and spock are struggling with, to have the trio's arc rhyming with each other.

decker asking who he is - is he a real captain or a psycho case like his dad and kirk, is he someone who could have been ilia's husband - and ilia wondering if she is someone who could have been his wife, and later the PROBE wondering if it's truly ilia or not. MORE questions that have to be answered by overcoming fear of emotional pain - decker takes the chance and joins with her to answer both his own question, and the probe's - and, of course, v'ger's.

THIS CONCLUDES. my movie rewrite. i am so glad to have gotten it off my chest, which is the main reason i wrote it, but i don't think it's terribly popular...so if you actually read this whole thing you're a rock star. okay BYE!!!

[wellnoe]

hi! I love your art so much?? you’ve really reignited a love for the x-men that I haven’t had since I was a kid <3 I wanted to ask if you had any advice for making comics? have a nice day!!

ah!!! ty!

when i make comics on my own (most of the single page stuff i post on here) i have a different process than when i make comics with other people. i usually start with a couple of strong visuals i have in mind, then i’ll break down what i want to be conveyed by the paneling (basically: what are the main beats i want to hit?), and then i finally do dialogue. i sometimes put in placeholder dialogue to remind me of information that absolutely has to be conveyed in the layouts/pencils stage, but most dialogue only gets added in after a page is completely done, colors and all. this is the most intuitive way to do comics for me, and i think that’s my first piece of advice, which is find a workflow that makes sense for how your brain conceives of scenes. anyway bc thats my process all of my advice is basically about drawing comics.

(this is the 'coming up with visuals' stage for a comic i'm working on currently. you can see that i'm basically just throwing anything at the wall to see if it works, and leaving a couple words/notes for myself so i know whats going on. its not even really a layout, the panels are not arranged how they would be on a final page.)

my other piece of advice is to pick apart paneling and comics you love? don’t just redraw them (though that can help too), but study what the paneling and composition conveys, and how that accentuates the story (which it often does!). i’ve done this w watchmen, a couple of moon knight runs, and some x-stuff, and i find it really helps me learn a lot about pacing, how time works, and how to economically convey information (bc you have a lot less room on a page than you think!). as a part of that: an exercise i think is a lot of fun/really helpful is to take pages/scenes you like and recompose them. use different paneling to convey the same scene and see how the meaning changes! do it intentionally, planning on pulling focus to something the original scene slides by. you can do this with your own stuff too:

(this is me picking apart a redraw i wanted to do of a comic i posted on here a couple of years ago. first i redrew the comic in the left corner so i could see the composition, then i made notes to myself about what the original comic was supposed to be about, and what i wanted to add to it to improve it. sorry for how blurry it is, the pencil smudged.)

here’s some rapid fire stuff i like to keep in mind while making comics: time does not exist in comics the way it exists in movies or in prose. the gutter? anything can happen there. it is potentially literally any amount of time. its up to you to convey via panel content and composition how much time has passed (which can be very little!) same deal with space. things happen in between panels, and people move, but also panels overlap, or squish, or disregard scenery. that said! this has to be done intentionally. how panels are organized, their size, their relationship to one another, all convey information to your reader. my point is the sky's the limit here. so yknow. have fun w it.

finally i think you just need to do it a lot. i have a ton of comic layouts or pencils that i never posted bc they honestly just aren’t that competent, but i learned nevertheless. there’s other stuff that never made it past the layout or sketch stage bc i was just doing it to practice, so there was never any need to ink or color it. making comics like any other drawing is about continuously assessing intention and communication.

hope that was helpful in some way!! i like making comics a lot, and i have a lot of fun thinking about paneling and the like. i hope you have fun making comics too <3

[asmrbrainrot]

The Gator boys & the Moon Witch~ Ch 1

It had been a fairly quiet week for Esther, or Sybil now. How long had she been going by that name? A few years at least, since she had gotten away from that awful Rexite priest… but she’d rather not remember. The whole traveling cabaret act treated her well. As well as it could at least, considering the nature of showbiz. Common sense told her she should probably be finding a place to settle down by now but she enjoyed floating from place to place. (Even when she didn’t need to) It’s not like this was her only source of income though. She was a witch after all, so it wasn’t difficult to make money on the side selling glamor potions or ready-made spell scrolls.

She slowed her broom as she took in the scenery around her. Cypress trees, cat tails, the smell of autumn in the air, it had been a while since she had traveled along the countryside. She halted her broom to read the wooden sign that marked her destination. “Welcome to Lilloway, Home of the Silverben Swamps” “Huh Quaint little place..” she muttered to herself. She decided to finish her journey on foot. Bella had woken from her nap and was getting ancy in her basket, besides after flying all day a walk would do Esther some good. It was surprising that such a small town like this would even have a nightclub, even more so that they invited her to perform. “Must be pretty short on entertainment if they invited a few old washups like us huh Belle?” The small dog gave an enthusiastic yip in response.

Not that she was complaining, a town like Lilloway was a pleasant change of pace from Akahn, with all its hustle and bustle. Something her college self would’ve loved, with all its trade and new-fangled gadgets. Oh goodness it had to be fifteen years now she was out of school. The woman leashed up her little friend and the two set into town. The once peaceful countryside soon melted into the stirrings of a village. As they approached the village square a corkboard with a plethora of fliers caught her eye. Thinking there might be a map among them Esther approached, Bella in tow. Hmmm Fall festival, Gabby’s Glamour spells, (Got enough of those as is) Oh! A freshly posted flier caught her eye. “Madam Sybil Dupree The Songbird of the South Performing at the Silverben Saloon!”. “Hmmm Guess we ain’t so washed up after all ey Belle?” Esther smiled leaning down to pet the black cavalier as it yipped excitedly. When suddenly Esther's attention was drawn to a set of large black boots that were approaching her.

“Howdy Ma’am.” Spoke the owner of the boots, in a deep husky voice. Esther stood up taking Bella with her as she faced the man. He was a tall muscular fellow with copper hair & beard. His arms marred with scars from what had to be his previous tussles. That and his serious demeanor told Esther this man wasn’t to be trifled with, nevertheless she had been brought up to give everyone a fair chance regardless. It’s what Earl would’ve done. “Well Hello there.” Esther responded warmly, Bella snugly in her arms. “Names Warren.” The burly man introduced, offering his hand as a sign of good will. Esther returned the gesture noting the rugged texture of his hand. A working man. “And you must be the famous Madam Dupree, if my eyes don’t deceive me.” Warren remarked, offering a kind smile while giving Bella a gentle pat on the head. “I don’t know if I’d call it that exactly!” Esther laughed, setting Bella down once more. “No need to be so humble! You’re all the town’s been talking about lately, well’sides them swap freaks runnin amuck.” The man remarked, ripping a bounty flier off the board.

Esther’s eyes were drawn to the flier, it depicted a terrible alligator-like beast with a hefty bounty listed at the bottom. Her chestnut eyes flicked from the flier to Warren, who had picked up on her curiosity. “Them beasts nothin ta worry bout Ma’am. Just a couple a wild half bloods runnin down the property value. Me an my men will have ‘em taken care of soon enough.” The man added in a vague attempt to “comfort” the women next to him. In truth Esther felt bad for those poor souls. Sure they looked a little different, acted a little different, but they didn’t ask to be that way. In the end they were just people trying to live their lives. Why should they be treated so horribly? “ So you’re a bounty hunter then?” Esther added dryly. If Warren was the kind of man to hunt down innocent people for sport then she wanted no part of him, but she had to be subtle about it. If word got around that she was some halfblood-sympathizing radical, she’d be run outta town faster than the half bloods themselves. “Looks like Warren caught a live one!” Shouted a woman from across the way.

She and another young fellow approached. Friends of Warren couldn’t be good company. Best to keep subtle for now though. “Aw hush up Andy. I was just greeting this lovely young lady to our town. It ain’t too often we get celebrities down here.” At this the younger blonde headed man perched up. “You’re Madam Dupree then! The one that’s ’s singing at the saloon?” The lad piped up. “Of course you would know Vernon! There’s hardly an’evenin you don’t spend at the saloon!” At this the two began to bicker before a calm yet stern hand gesture from Warren signaled the two to stop. “If you children are done I do believe Madam Dupree here needs some direction to the Inn.” Warren implored looking at Esther with a knowing glint in his emerald eyes. “Oh! Yes actually.” She responded “Then I reckon we should show you the way so you can get all settled an’ready for the show tonight!” Warren offered, the warm smile returning. “I’d like that.” And with that they were off to the Inn, little Bella in tow wagging her tail all the way.

[retrieve-the-kraken]

Heartstopper season 2 play-by-play analysis

We’re in Paris! I can’t believe the Paris trip takes up so much of the time of the season. I do love the pacing of the season, and how they distributed events and moments throughout it, making the most of the locations and situations. I know that most interior scenes were filmed back in the UK, but they really squeezed as much as they could from their stay in Paris (and I need all the bts content from that, what we’ve gotten so far is not enough!). Like Trixie Mattel and Katyana said, only two things can shut down the Louvre: Beyonce and Hearstopper, apparently, who would have thought? It felt like such a nice change of scenery, and really gave the show and the characters a whole new dimension.

On with the episode!

EPISODE 4 - CHALLENGE

- The coach is Blue and Yellow™. And of course a lot of green, especially in the form of Charlie’s iconic green Fjällräven backpack and Nick’s hoodie.

- Nick being super sad about not sitting with Charlie, and Charlie trying to be all upbeat about it, and challenging him to not kiss him for two days. I love their banter.

- Tao’s miserable face as he realizes that, not only is Nick sitting with him for the trip, but Elle doesn’t want to sit with him either. And Nick is oblivious to the fact that the date didn’t go well…

- Ben clearly doesn’t realize how indiscreet he is about his fixation with Charlie. Even Isaac notices something strange is up.

- Ugh, I loooove how much we’re slowly inching our way to finding out more about Isaac. I love that he asks Charlie how he knew he liked Nick, and how he’s trying to figure out how this compares to how he feels about James. God, if that hasn’t been my entire life before I realized too…

- If nobody had told me that Kit Connor didn’t speak French before, I would have simply thought “wow, how lucky that they found the perfect Nick Nelson AND he happens to speak French already.” (I really don’t know if it sounds good or not, but it convinced me…) Also Nick’s little excited face when he’s talking to his dad, because he’s still excited about the possibility of seeing his dad, he hasn’t come to the realization that the effort should come from both parts.

- Also Tao’s face when he realizes that Nick is speaking fluent French and he’s not hearing things. And their cute little bonding moment talking about it. Even when Elle looks over at them, they seem to be looking at something (on a phone?) and talking and laughing. Bonding!

- Mr Farouk actually having a little smile on his face when they’re finally in Paris.

- Ugh, seriously, what is up with Ben??? He doesn’t care about even playing it off for Imogen, and she very quickly catches on.

- “I thought you’d find it awkward sharing with Nick. Just standing next to Elle makes me feel like I’m being electrocuted.” I don’t think I’m quite on board with this completely, seeing as in the show Tao already knows about Nick and Charlie… I thought it would have made more sense if he’d been more like “I just want to make sure that there’s no hanky-panky whilst we’re all in the same room,” and then Charlie could get all flustered and go “ugh you sound like my dad, and no, we’re not doing any of that, not yet…”

- But I love that we got the handholding scene across the space between the beds.

- The teachers being so awkward and adorable. Now kyth!

- Tao should have apologized to Elle for what he said, but at least he extended an olive branch in the form of a bottle of apple juice. And she accepted.

- The dynamic between Nick and Charlie has seriously become so perfect and in tune, the way that Joe and Kit riff off each other whilst being perfectly in character is just chef’s kiss.

- Darcy interrupting the kiss made me think of an ideal world in which Darcy gets adopted by Sara, and the Golden Retriever siblings fight about stupid things all the time, like who’s more in love with their respective partner, and who do they think Nellie loves more, and she continuously barges into Nick’s room when Nick and Charlie are making out and goes “sorry for interrupting the gayness, but I can’t find my phone charger, can I borrow yours? Thank you, my twin. You may proceed with the gayness.”

- “I need a drink. An alcoholic drink.” “We probably shouldn’t drink.” “I need a croissant then”. Number one on the quotes that I’m glad made it right off the comic page.

- “Mischief maker. I’ve influenced you.”

- The I heart Paris hoodie, and Darcy touching the bust’s boobs. Peak Darcy.

- James saying that it’s nice to be with other gay people, and Isaac looking a bit uncomfortable… honey, just because doesn’t seem to respond to people of the opposite sex doesn’t automatically make them gay. Unless he’s using gay as an umbrella term…? Instead of queer…? James knows about Darcy and Tara, and about Charlie, but he doesn’t know about Nick, or presumably Sahar. He’s making assumptions about Isaac.

- Nick not getting why people continue to be fascinated by the fact that he speaks French, or the fact that his dad is French. He’s such an oblivious little pumpkin.

- And that heart to heart between Charlie and Tara. “Me and her were all that mattered.” And Tara being jealous about how Charlie and Nick talk about their feelings.

- The Tao and Elle conversation and whole cutesy montage. And Tao making the French tourists crouch for the photo and everything, figuring out how to talk to them without actually speaking French.

- Peak Ben Hope, seeing Nick waving at Imogen and immediately pulling her toward him, in this horribly possessive manner. Glad that Imogen got fed up with him and bolted. Poor thing has been miserable since arriving at Paris because of Ben, and she at least approaches Nick’s group to ask if she can hang out, which could not have been easy (especially to Nick, with whom she had a disagreement).

- By the way, Imogen in her Paris outfit is giving off major Margot Robbie in Barbie vibes.

- Elle asking Imogen if she even likes Ben, which you can tell that Nick so badly wanted to ask (Elle and Nick even exchange knowing glances), but he didn’t because he knew that he had already tried to warn Imogen about Ben, and maybe she won’t listen to him, but she’ll probably listen to another girl.

- Imogen jumping on the TaoElle ship. “Maybe I don’t have the best track record in relationships (looks knowingly at Nick and he laughs), but I think being honest is better than living with regret”. Yes, Imogen. Like when she took a chance and told Nick that she liked him and then asked him out, and even though he didn’t reciprocate, they still ended up as friends, and he’s so protective of her, and he’s probably the best friend she didn’t know she needed.

- Nick internalizing what Imogen just said too.

- Will Gao is so histrionic, I adore him.

- The whole montage of Mr Farouk arguing (is he arguing? Sorry, but to me French men always sound like their arguing) with the waiter without any subtitles, and then going something about no onions and something else and “I’m serious, big man, I get bloated, it’s not funny, cheers”, made me think for a moment that I want to learn French just so that I can know what he was saying. (The moment has passed).

- The whole Nick and Charlie trying not to sit together all the time majorly backfiring when Ben ends up next to Charlie. The horror. Charlie turns his body toward Tao as much as he can without actually sitting sideways, and Nick is about to throw his whole body across the table.

- Detective Imogen is fully on it now, she’s about to blow this whole case wide open.

- I’ve had escargot and I’m never doing that again. It was fun to try, but yeah, I also felt bad for my terrible decision.

- I may never completely understand the magnitude of Charlie’s eating disorders, because I can’t imagine what that’s like (I used to think that I might have an ED because I’m often so particular about food, because of my anxiety, and at times textures and strong flavors can be overwhelming, but I’ve learned to deal with it, the way I managed to overcome it on my own was kind of similar to the way that Noora from SKAM did, but it was never of the magnitude of Charlie or Noora), but I understand the pressure of “oh shit I ordered this and now I have to eat it because people are watching but I really don’t want to” and fearing making myself sick because of the pressure and the shame and the anxiety of feeling trapped in that situation. Made worse, in Charlie’s case, by Ben sitting next to him and actively looking at him.

- “I haven’t spoken to you in ages”. Sir, that is not a coincidence, there’s a reason for it. Don’t pretend like you don’t know it, SIR.

- I love the panicked look on Nick’s face as Ben starts talking to Charlie. He had seen the seating arrangement and panicked, but then he relaxed for a bit, probably thinking “nah, this asshole wouldn’t dare try to say anything to Charlie in front of everyone, he wouldn’t be so bold”, but then Ben is inexplicable… So Nick nearly rushes off his seat to Charlie’s side to do what? Ask Ben to switch seats with him? Just wedge himself in there until the meal is over? He probably has not a clue what he’ll do but by GOD he will stop this interaction before his boyfriend has to endure it any longer.

- Imagine being Ben (just for a painful second), being so self-centered, being so preoccupied with the paranoia of people watching you all the time and watching your every move and trying to figure you out, that you’d go around being an asshole, especially to the boy that you “like”, to the point where those actions and shitty attitude lose you said boy, only for you to lose all self-awareness when in proximity to said boy, and you’re suddenly staring at him openly, trying to strike up a conversation, and not getting the fucking hint that said boy doesn’t want to talk to you, doesn’t even want to look at you. Imagine those walls crumbling down but you’re absolutely convinced they are still up. Imagine that now people can see right through you and call you out, and you get defensive and start calling them names… Imagine being down so bad for someone (or whatever feelings that you might think you have for said boy) that you’re not even making sense anymore, even later boldly telling said boy’s boyfriend that you want said boy back (even though said boy’s boyfriend is basically twice your size and hates your guts and could probably knock you out with a single punch). Imagine…

- But then imagine being Charlie, a curly-haired human embodiment of sunshine and rainbows, and having to sit next to your ex/assaulter. Period.

- Imogen going off on Ben like we all love to see it, but let’s face it, she was kinder than I expected her to be, by telling him he has issues that he needs to resolve. Go to therapy, Ben! Your energy’s off, Ben! She’s basically telling him what Charlie will repeat in other words later, about him working on himself to be better before he hurts somebody else.

- She calls out Ben for being obsessed with Charlie twice very loudly. Ben would rather chew off his own hand before admitting it, but Imogen hit the nail right in the head. ( kinda want to be given a reason why not one of Charlie's friends jumped up at that, like "wait, what is this about Ben Hope being obsessed with you?" unless they're waiting for Charlie to bring it up himself it at all. But seeing Charlie's reaction, and Nick's horrified face, you'd think they'd be a little curious as to what that is about...)

- And Elle smiling when Imogen says that it’s time she focuses on herself. Yes, Imogen, stop thinking about boys for a while, and focus on what you want.

- I have rewatched everyone’s faces so many times: from the guy over Imogen’s shoulder laughing and trying to look over, to James catching all the tea, to all of Ben’s mates sniggering, but my favorite is that boy between Ben and Harry with the super-expressive eyebrows very dramatically questioning Ben’s whole attitude.

- As everyone’s been saying, when even Harry Greene calls you out, you know you’ve hit a low point.

- Nick and Charlie coming to comfort Imogen, and her questioning if she should have done that so publicly (the answer is Yes, because he very publicly treated you very badly too, so… tit for tat). And her wanted to make sure if maybe something happened between Ben and Charlie, but then saying it doesn’t matter as soon as she sees how uncomfortable it makes him.

- And her saying that it would be easier if she liked girls, which… how many times do women in general say that? Relationships aren’t easy, no matter who you love, but there’s a preoccupying trend if the consensus is that ‘if sexuality was really a choice, the number of women who would choose to be lesbians is very very high’. What does that say about straight cis men, in general?

- Tao finally getting his head out of his own ass long enough to realize that Nick is really trying to bond with him.

- Tao about Elle “she’s everything, I’m just Ken”.

- Nick being adorable telling him that he thinks Tao is also all those things, and telling him that he does like him.

- I thought that Tao’s whole plan was giving Nick and Charlie privacy by dragging Isaac to the vending machin (And Charlie and Nick making the most of that little privacy). But it’s so sad when you realize that it was because Nick said the word “loudly” to describe him, and it made him remember that it was his loudness that outed Charlie last year. Poor baby.

- Seriously, the chemistry this season is off the charts, the intimacy between Nick and Charlie is so beautiful and warm and Kit and Joe are magical. And the way that they’re always checking with each other. “Is this okay?” A very enthusiastic "YEAH”, “we should stop”, “okay.” Love them.

- Isaac falling asleep with the book on his face is so relatable. How many times have I woken up because I fell asleep reading and the book just smacked me in the face? Too many to count.

- Charlie’s little “oh f—” cut to music.

Ceci episode é brought pour vous by CROISSANTS™. (Je n'e parlez pas français).

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Dances In The Moonlight (Falk Maria Schlegel x GN! Reader) - Part 1

(A/N: I'm trying something different again! I'm really nervous about posting this one, so I hope you all enjoy it. I'm probably going to be working on this pretty heavily until it's done so expect some hopefully quick updates!)

WARNINGS: None for this chapter, just introduction stuff, some slight pining/mutual flirting. Soft Falk hours.

Part II

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You slid into the confessional booth with a sigh, eyes meeting with the Clergy member through the cross hairs of the fence that separated you. A ghost of a smile played on his lips as he took a moment to study you. You were greeted with a thick German accent that had a tinge of curiosity behind it. "What can I help you with, my dear?" You swallowed thickly, you thought coming to talk about what was troubling you was supposed to help.

"Father… have you ever felt like no matter what you do, you just don't fit in?" You had been floating through your life with no real sense of purpose. You had spent so long trying to live up to everyone's expectations that you had truly lost yourself in the process. The man on the other side of the screen breathed out a laugh.

"I know a thing or two about not fitting in." He shifts in his seat as he ponders what to say next. "If it were me, I would do my best to cut ties with everyone and everything from the life that isn't suiting me… for a little while at least. It would probably give you a chance to find what exactly you want out of your life." Your brow furrowed slightly as you listened to his words. Before you had a chance to ask any questions he began to speak again. "Our Abbey welcome's all here without question, it might even be able to provide something you're missing." You'd be lying if you said it didn't appeal to you. A full change of pace, people, scenery, it sounded like a good idea.

"I…" you weren't sure how to respond. You sighed, anxiously cracking your knuckles.

"You don't need to make a decision right now." His soothing tone lulled you back into a state of comfort. "Maybe sit in the chapel for a while, think things over, yeah?" You nodded.

"Thank you, Father." He dismisses you with a polite nod. You sat in the front row of pews before the altar, listening to the shuffle of footsteps as various people entered and left the confession booth. Shapes in all colors of the rainbow shifted across the altar as the sun gradually began to set.

"Still thinking, are we?" The pew creaked as the Clergy member you spoke to earlier sat beside you. He folded his hands neatly in his lap. This was the first time you actually had the chance to see what he looked like. Slightly unkempt light brown hair and sharp features contrasted the softness his gaze held. Beautiful brown eyes that only greatened how easily you were drawn in by his presence. "What's making you so apprehensive about staying?"

"Who said I was thinking about staying?" You challenge, concentrating on the toe of your shoe kicking against the floor.

"You would have left by now if you weren't." The steady taps of your foot stopped in an instant. "I have a feeling you and I might not be as different as you think. It wasn't too long ago that I was in the same position you are now. Going through the motions day by day, not truly feeling like any of it mattered… does that sound about right?" You paused for a moment before nodding in response. He stands, motioning for you to follow him. "I'd like to show you something, come with me." He led you through a doorway to what appeared to be a maze of hallways. "Stay close, we wouldn't want you getting lost." He chuckles slightly at your amazed expression as you took in the sight before you. He walked slowly, allowing you time to get distracted by the different artwork that lined the walls until your focus eventually wandered back to your guide. "You're smiling." He points out with a grin of his own. You look down at your feet, letting out a slightly embarrassed laugh.

"I guess I am." You hadn't even realized it, but it was the first time you had genuinely smiled in a while. You looked back up at the man before you, kind gaze never wavering as he studied you. "Father, this place is incredible. I never realized how massive the Abbey was."

"These halls would be yours to explore if you decide to stay." You took a deep breath, this could be your one and only chance at a fresh start. Something you had always longed for was being gifted to you by a complete stranger. "You're looking to find a place where you belong, right?" He takes a small step forward, cradling one of your hands gently in his own. "My dear, I think that is something you would absolutely be able to find here. Let me help you keep that smile on your face." You took a deep breath, glancing around the candle lit halls as you thought about whether or not this was somewhere you could call your home. Starting your life over was terrifying, sure. But, the hands that held yours were so warm, the way he looked at you made you feel important. Standing here with him even just for this short amount of time had ignited something in you, a sense of want, for what exactly you couldn't place. The man's eyes glowed in the candle light, watching the smallest shifts in your expression as you ran through every possibility that came to mind.

"I'll stay." You respond abruptly. He smiles brightly, elated by your response. He, however, didn't move from his position. Almost as if he could feel that you had something else to say. You had entered this church on a whim and now you were agreeing to dedicate your days to it while you searched for who you really were. All of this because of the man that stood before you with the mischievous glint in his eye. "Father, I do have one more thing I'd like to ask you." He hums in response to your statement, giving you his full attention. "I don't believe I ever asked for your name." He chuckles softly. Thumb running slowly across the top of your hand before he reluctantly released it.

"You can call me Falk." He leans down slightly, almost as if he was ready to tell you a secret. "Also, I don't believe in using honorifics outside of mass, so just Falk is fine."

"Falk." You repeat the name back softly, liking the way it sounded as it tumbled from your lips. "Thank you."

"The pleasure is all mine." Falk insisted that he help you take care of your arrangements, he wanted your transition into the Abbey to be as seamless as possible. Before you knew it you were caught up in lessons, mass, and your daily chores around the Abbey. It felt right being here, but there was still the sense of want you had experienced that very first night. You gazed at the window as you picked at your breakfast, the dining hall nearly empty aside from you and a few people others. The smell of freshly brewed coffee caught your attention first, then the sound of footsteps casually approaching your table.

"Good morning, Falk." He effortlessly slides into the seat across from you. He sets his mug down with a sigh before pointing an accusatory finger at you.

"You weren't at my mass this morning." Your chin perched on the palm of your hand, playful smile on his lips letting you know he wasn't upset. "You never miss my mass."

"I overslept." His eyes narrow. You oversleeping wasn't the issue, it was why you overslept. He didn't need to say another word for you to confess. "I might have stayed too late in the library."

"You know it's important to rest-"

"I know." You groan, thinking of a way to try and defend yourself. "The Abbey just has such an amazing collection."

"Which will still be there when you wake up." He chuckles. He moves to reach out for your hand, he stops himself and decides to fold his hands in front of him. "You have all the time in the world to read those books, it's important you take care of yourself." He takes a long sip of his coffee, his gaze switching between you and the window. "I was concerned when I looked out there and you weren't in the front row."

"I'm surprised you noticed I wasn't there." You exchange a soft smile.

"Your smile is always the brightest in the room, of course I noticed." You couldn't hide the blush on your face. He was beaming with pride over the fact he managed to get you flustered. The two of you got to sit and talk for a while longer until he had to leave for a meeting. "I take it you'll be in the library again tonight?" You nod in response, causing Falk to chuckle. "If I don't see you, make sure you don't stay there all night."

"I won't, I promise." He bids you one last farewell before he heads off. You found yourself unable to wipe the smile off your face as you went about your duties for the rest of the day. As expected by the end of the day you had made your way to the library. Now sat comfortably in front of a roaring fire, bare feet tucked beside you under a blanket, and a pile of unread books at your side, you were all set to enjoy your evening. You were interrupted not too long after by the sound of the library door opening and thudding back close. You looked back over your shoulder, from your nights spent in here you knew no one was usually in here this late. You could hear footsteps approaching you, weaving their way in between shelves of books. Your body tensed, only catching flashes of a shadowed figure as they grew closer to you.

"Well you certainly look comfortable." Falk emerges from the darkness with a chuckle. You let out a sigh of relief, laughing slightly at your paranoia.

"You scared me." You giggle. He chuckles, approaching the couch you were seated on slowly.

"Would it be alright if I joined you?" You hurriedly collected the books, moving them aside to make a space for him.

"Please do." He sits with a groan, a result of the long day you were sure he had. "What brings you all the way down here?"

"I was curious about what you were reading that had you so interested." He narrows his eyes, struggling to read the spines of the books next to you before leaning in to get a closer look. Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched his face hover in front of yours. It took you a moment to realize he wasn't wearing his paint anymore, you noticed a few spots he had missed where the paint had settled into the wrinkles by his eyes. Your heart was pounding in your chest, it was a wonder he couldn't hear it. "You can read German?" You were forced to release a breath you hadn't noticed you had been holding. You were finding it hard to find any words at all to say with him sitting so close to you.

"Hardly." You chuckle, holding up the German to English dictionary that you kept plastered to your side. "That's part of the reason I'm here so late, it's a little difficult to get through a book when you have to translate it word for word." He glances between you and the stack of books.

"Maybe I could read some of it to you, give you a break." He offers with a smile.

"Oh, you don't have to, I'm sure you've had a long-" He cuts you off with a wave of his hand.

"Nonsense, I'd just be reading in my room anyways." You exchange a smile. "What would you like to read first?" He asks as he cuffs the sleeves of his shirt. You swallowed thickly, struggling to tear your eyes away as you watched his nimble fingers work their way around the fabric. You simply grabbed the first book in the pile and handed it off to him. His fingers brushed against yours as he grabbed the book, his hand soft and warm. Your mind instantly wandered back to that first night you arrived at the Abbey, your hands wrapped securely in his own as that same warmth spread through your whole body. Your eyes found his, golden in the light of the fire. He hesitantly reached out, brushing some stray hair from your face. You reflexively leaned into his touch, a blush slowly creeping across your cheeks. His eyes widened slightly as he realized what he was doing. "I'm sorry." He clears his throat, hurriedly opening up the book you had handed him. If there was one thing you were sure if it was that Falk had a wonderful voice for reading stories. His soft tone threatened to lull you to sleep. You found yourself drifting closer to him, reading the German on the page that he almost effortlessly translated for you. You leaned back into the couch, your eyelids heavy as the plush cushions wrapped your body in their warm embrace. You eventually drifted off listening to Falk read to you. The last thing you remember was someone gently cradling you as they laid you back on the couch, pulling the blanket up over your shoulders.

[cherrywoodmaeg]

Shortcut, Pt. 12

The bad news: I have a cold. The good news: I get to stay at home and write!

A step forward, Part 1

Jon knew that something had changed between him and Niphka. The silence they walked in now felt heavier than before. Hours passed by and the stars were long in the sky before he asked her if she wanted to lie down for the night.

“Are you tired?” she asked back, and he reluctantly denied. His last night had stretched into the afternoon, so he was still wide awake.

“Then let’s keep going.”

Jon wondered if he should address the issues looming over them. But for once, he didn’t even really remember what had happened, and he didn’t want to stir up an argument. And then there was her withdrawn demeanour. He knew that he relied on her help if he wanted to get to Millersby in time, and he knew that he would be stuck without her. Noone to ask for a ride, too sore to walk, and on top of that, he had no idea where he was.

The landscape became more uneven as hills stretched out in the distance. Even with his basic knowledge of mainland geography, he knew that this was the typical landscape of Namnodig. As his gaze wandered over the nightly scenery, he could make out pale dots of light in the distance. He sat upright.

“Do you see that?”

His world jostled around as Niphka fell out of her steady pace. She stared into the night, following his direction.

“That might already be the outskirts of that town you spoke of.”

Jon noticed that he felt alarmed.

“We shouldn’t get too close!”

The unexpected movement of Niphka’s hands forced a yelp to escape his mouth. She had raised them closer to her face, her big brown eyes scrutinizing him. Jon’s stomach churned, but he lifted his head to look back at her.

“We have lost almost an entire day.” Her tone was stern.

“If we lose more time, the conspirators will reach your home before us. Do you want that to happen?”

“No, of course not.” He really didn’t. But he also wasn’t going to give up so easily, but he needed to find a case she would accept.

“When people see us, they’ll want to know what we’re up to. Maybe the Duke and Duchess want to greet you. And then who knows how long we’ll be delayed?"

For a moment it looked like she wanted to say something, but then, she half-heartedly shrugged – a strange experience from Jon’s point of view – and began walking again.

Before he knew it, Jon’s heartbeat had dropped to its regular rhythm again. He was tired, his body still recovering from the aches of the last days. The pain of his injured leg had dulled but travelled into his knee, demanding his attention. And it didn’t help that every time he relaxed to the brink of sleep, Niphka slightly rearranged her hands and yanked him back into the waking world. He had no sense of time, but when he finally managed to fall asleep, the sun was already rising again.

The moment the small figure in her hand went limp, Niphka looked around for a place to rest. She had kept him from sleep for too long. It was painful to make him stay awake, especially since she knew all too well how much he needed the rest. Originally, she had planned to walk through the night and just let him sleep in her hands. But the truth was, she was scared. Too scared to let the previous night repeat itself. Who knew if he would come back to her this time? No, she couldn’t let that happen.

Therefore, when he eventually didn’t react to her gentle attempts of waking him, she sat down. Even though there were no trees nearby, the uneven hills would hide her large form. If she was honest, she herself was incredibly exhausted.

Carefully, she used her free hand to place the fabric that had previously served as Jon’s toga onto the grass. Then, she carefully lowered him onto the make-shift mattress. He shivered and, still asleep, pulled the cloth tighter around himself. Niphka bit her lip until it hurt. She wanted to stay close, wanted to give him a softer and warmer bed in her hands. But not after the mess she had caused last night.

I’m sorry.

She slowly drew back and took a few steps away from him. She looked around the place.

He can’t see me immediately, but I need to be able to hear him.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard her sisters’ voices, scolding her for her pathetic behaviour. Where was her pride?

Niphka didn’t feel proud. She didn’t know what she felt, but it wasn’t a good emotion. It stung, and however possible, it made her feel small. Her, of all things in the world!

She looked over to Jon, who still clutched the white fabric between his hands. How could someone so small, so fragile, so insignificant, make her feel that way?

Because he matters to me.

The years alone have made me soft.

One thing that really annoyed her about being on land was those damned tears.

The grass tickled Jon’s nose.

Wait, grass?

He tried to sit up but found himself tangled in a white bedsheet. With his leg still injured, he got on his feet as fast as possible. However, he only lasted a few seconds before he tripped over his wrapped feet and landed back on the ground.

Oh come on, not again!

He looked around to see where he had woken up this time. To his great relief, he could make out a Niphka-shaped being in the distance, lying on the ground. He realized that she must have stopped for a break when he had already fallen asleep. But why settle so far away?

With no branches around that could double as crutches, he limped towards her. It took him quite some time to reach her.

“Niphka? Niphka!”

When she didn’t answer to his calls, he picked up the speed as much as he could to walk around her body and face her front. Despite his leg screaming in protest, he wouldn’t slow down until he got close enough to see if she was okay.

He let out a sigh when he saw that she was fine, just asleep. Her curls covered some of her face, but he recognized her relaxed expression.

The sun was high up already, so Jon slowly stepped closer. She had removed the leathery armour around her forearms, which she had loosely crossed and placed protectively near her face. Jon touched her wrist.

“Niphka,” he repeated softly, “I think we should keep moving.”

It didn’t seem like she heard him. Her brows furrowed for a moment, but other than that, she showed no reaction.

Jon was strangely captivated by her face. He was rarely so close to it, and he still couldn’t hold her gaze for long. But now, with her sleeping, he could marvel at the size of her features. Even while asleep, she radiated a sense of strength and confidence. Her arched eyebrows, so often a guide to her emotions, were now relaxed again and added a touch of softness to her face. The sun reflected on the rich and dark colour of her cheekbones. Her jawline was less defined and added a touch of playfulness to her otherwise stern structures. Now up close, Jon could hear the quiet whistle of the wind as she breathed in and out through her wide and slightly flared nostrils. Below that were her lips. They were full and complimented her features well, Jon thought. They were big enough to cover his entire torso, and they looked so-

Stop. Focus.

Despite all that, Jon couldn’t help but notice that she looked worn. The tension of the past days seemed to have dug itself into her skin, and every now and then, her breath jumped.

Why in the world is she helping me?

He couldn’t say often he’d asked himself that question already. Was it because of her promise? If so, that was another good reason to reach Millersby as soon as possible.

“Niphka,” he tried again.

This time, she briefly clenched her jaw, let out a deep breath and finally, opened her eyes.

Jon’s knees suddenly felt unstable, but he wasn’t scared.

“Good morning,” he said, giving her a smile.

She eyed him for a moment and then smiled back.

“Hello.”

She slowly raised her right hand and ran her index finger over his shoulder, then his arm, then his back. Jon’s heart skipped a beat as he felt both the gentleness and the strength coming from her fingertips.

“H-Hello,” he repeated, and Niphka gave him a soft chuckle. She sat up and Jon knew that she was deliberately slow as not to scare him, but he still shivered when he had to lay back his head to see her.

“Did you sleep well?” he half-shouted, hoping that his voice would carry up to her.

“I did, thank you. And yourself?” She massaged her neck. Jon vaguely remembered her former form having gills there.

“Do you miss it?” he blurted out.

“Hm?”

“The ocean. Your people. Everything, I don’t know.”

Niphka tilted her head.

“Everything? Some things, certainly. I feel slower on land. Weaker, too. And… less free. I miss home. But not– not everything. It isn’t easy to explain.”

“No, I get it,” Jon replied. “You miss your home, just like me.”

“And you can’t wait to get back.”

Jon hesitated, then gave her a half-smile. “Not easy to explain?”

His eyes fell on the armour pieces, still lying on the ground. Each one was at least twice as long as he was tall. He stepped towards them and touched the warm material. Something caught his attention. The outside of the piece in front of him was rough, scratched by countless sharp objects that had cut deep into the leather, but never managed to pierce through. A thought crossed his mind.

“The thing with home,” he began, “is that it’s never easy. I don’t think the place we call home is real. It’s more like a dream that we come up with to make it through the day. But you only really notice it when you’re not there, and once you return, you start to notice all the flaws, you know, the boredom and – …the bad things.”

He ran his fingers over a particularly deep cut.

“You have seen some bad things.” It wasn’t a question.

Niphka shifted and he looked back up. She reached out a hand for the armour.

“May I?”

Jon signalled for her to go ahead and she began to fasten the pieces back to her arm.

“Eleusis,” she mumbled. Jon had heard that word before. Niphka had mentioned it to Ida.

“The last time you were on land?”

She nodded.

“You know the story. My sisters made a pact, and we fought for our freedom. We won, but it wasn’t without cost.”

Jon’s hairs stood up as she ground her teeth.

“You’ve lost someone,” He kept his voice soft, unsure if she would hear him.

“After we won, soon even those who made it back to the ocean left. I couldn’t, or, I refused. So I stayed behind.”

“Do you think of them often?”

She closed her eyes and nodded.

“Every day. Every day I wonder if I made a mistake.”

Jon couldn’t imagine what force would be able to kill a creature such as her, but he knew better than to ask. He watched Niphka skilfully tie on her other armpiece with one hand. She seemed calm and collected, but by now, he began to become literate in the little tell-tale signs. Interrupted breaths. Chewing her bottom lip.

“You must miss them very much.” She gave him a pained look, causing him to continue,

“But for what it’s worth, I think it’s a good thing you stayed. I’d be dead if you hadn’t.”

His serious tone seemed to reach her, and her frown lightened up a bit.

“Then I’m glad I stayed, too.”

Part 11 < Part 12 > Part 13

[hojichasunrise]

Finally finished NATLA. Thoughts:

They ruined Yue's character. Why would a princess be helping casually in the kitchen. Why would a princess display 0 manners around someone she just met. personality completely different.

They had Yue faint repeatedly just to magically sit back up when they needed an exposition dump, then faint again.

They made Hahn a good person? Why is Yue suddenly a waterbender and traipsing around the spirit world? It doesnt add anything and feels out of place.

The interactions between Pakku and Katara were stilted and forced. In the cartoon she had a training period and earned his trust, but here it was just instantly granted that she was the person to report to during battle, yet she doesnt know AQa's defense layout or anything else because she just arrived.

battle pacing in Agna Qel'a is weird. too much standing around talking.

The dialogue is so Marvelized. quip quip quip quip quip.

Aang is joyless and talking like Iron Man. (not the actor's fault.)

Zuko is perfect, 11/10. Every change they made is perfect.

Combining arc beats (e.g. Jet + mechanist) worked surprisingly well.

They made Bumi into an asshole and his dialogue was repetitive, that arc dragged out way too long.

Wasn't atmospheric enough. everything felt like a set.

How did Momo, half the size of a housecat, push that girl out of the way? physics are not mathing.

Why did they take Momo to the spirit oasis to heal but not any of the battle participants or injured civilians. Scene ate too much screen time and sapped urgency from the battle. Makes AQ'a look stupid.

Jet was perfect.

Multiple issues with logic, too long to post. Writing is shallow.

Azula is snarking to her father too much considering she just watched her brother get half his face melted off for one instance of disrespect.

Pecs. 🙏

not enough in-series justification for why Ozai wanted Zuko out of the way in favor of Azula. We know why, but they aren't standing on their own for this beat and have to lean on the cartoon.

Katara and Sokka getting btfo by Koh felt... really strange. they were just there to job and create stakes.

Kuruk and Kyoshi were great inclusions.

Jee/the 41st was a great detail, best part of series.

Azula being the puppetmaster behind Zhao is strange. She knows things by magic I guess, they made a 14 year old girl not just plausibly cunning but straight up omniscient. Logic breaking keikaku doori with her and Ozai.

Ozai using AQ'a as a distraction to take Omashu makes zero logical sense and I don't want to write an essay so just think about this for 5 minutes. I almost screamed.

bf's contribution: "this feels like it was written during the writer's strike."

Visually it was beautiful and the scenery and costumes were great. Other than Yue and Pakku the actors were all fine. Zuko's actor was beyond perfect and his firebending was next level gorgeous.

Sokka's new backstory was a good inclusion. Sokka got a lot of great scenes and the actor is a perfect fit.

Gyatso was also astonishingly perfect. chef's kiss to the actor, his performance was beautiful.

Very much noticing the Kataang scenes were all removed and we got some Zutara allusions. I ship that so yay.

The Sokka/Suki scenes were spicy. However she removed her makeup in 3 seconds flat and that broke my immersion. Please ask a woman next time. otherwise yes I ship that. Just kiss already!

I like the beautiful older lady they put in charge of Kyoshi Island. Nice to see more females in leadership positions.

The lack of the Azula chime is criminal. Her using feminine charm to lure rebels into a trap was a great scene to introduce her. Glad to see rebels, it makes it feel more politically realistic.

The opening scene in ep 1 had Mulan's opening scene vibes in a good way.

Overall: enjoyable with a few caveats but writing quality falls apart upon critical inspection. Much better than I expected, rewatch-worthy. 8/10.

[nicsalazar]

Painting memories || Jonas & Nicole

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Hanging Rock PARTIES: @thesilentmedium  & @nicsalazar SUMMARY: Jonas and Nicole share a moment. CONTENT WARNING: suicidal ideation mentions

Over the years, Nicole had perfected her running pace when it came to the never-ending, looping trail towards of Hanging Rock. Timing her strides so she reached the top of the rock just as the beautiful orange and pink hues began tinting the sky, signaling dusk.

Today wasn't the exception.

Nicole gave herself a moment, pulling out her cellphone to turn off the music still blasting in her ears. She slowed down her breath. The park was decently crowded, as it was often the case, which led to very limited sitting options. It didn’t matter much, for now, as she let her heartbeat slow down to the sound of the waves crashing against the rocky coast and her lungs filled with the salty marine breeze. 

Eventually, once Nicole exhausted herself looking at the seals in the ocean, and the dogs playing in the park, she decided it was time to rest her legs. There were no empty benches, so she opted for the next best thing: joining a stranger. She sat as far away as possible not to disturb her bench mate, and truthfully, because she needed that space herself. Until she noticed the person next to her was painting. “That’s really fucking good” she blurted out, unlike herself. She'd blame it on all those happy post-exercise chemicals making her act up.

It had been a quiet morning on Jonas’ day off, the birds were chirping and the sky was clear with only a few clouds drifting overhead. He had managed to get all of his chores done by the afternoon and had picked up his easel setting out for Hanging Rock. he had forgotten just how beautiful Wicked’s Rest was when it wasn’t trying to kill you or when Jacob wasn’t around to ruin the mood. Ten years away and most of what he remembered always boiled down to his father’s disappointed looks. He didn’t like to admit it but he was starting to feel at home again without his dad breathing down his neck the entire time. Christmas had always been a nightmare for him but June had insisted her children at least be home for the holiday. 

Hanging Rock had hardly changed from the way he remembered it, though it was certainly more busy now. Still the view from it was gorgeous and the fresh air was great for his mood. Jonas had been sitting there for while now painting the scenery, Blue was laying in front of the easel and was probably the reason so many people passed by his bench instead of sitting in the empty spot next to him. Maybe they could tell the leash attached to her collar was mostly for show, Blue was strong enough that if she wanted to she could easily just pull Jonas along. 

Jonas was so used to sitting alone he didn’t even notice the stranger plopping down next to him till Blue lifted her head and nudged his knee. He turned to face the woman, offering an awkward smile “I um sorry did you say something?” 

Nicole blinked slowly between the man and his dog. Giving the animal a shy smile, almost seeking approval. Because she did not want to test her luck if the dog didn’t like her, or sensed odd vibes coming from her. Something about cats and dogs…she never knew when she’d set one off. 

“I—” Nicole huffed nervously, knowing her cheeks were flushed again, though not because of the exercise anymore. “I said, um” she pointed at the painting. “Looks really fucking good” she reiterated. It remained the truth, regardless of whether she felt fidgety addressing a stranger. “You a pro?” she wondered. Though, what she really wanted to ask was if she was cramping on his artistic process or whatever. He must’ve been really in the zone to not hear her words before.

Which— the thought sent Nicole down another spiral. What if there was a reason he had opted to sit alone, brought the dog with him to deter others. It would make so much sense. Her stomach plummeted, embarrassed. “And— I should say…  Sorry to bother, had nowhere to sit and… my legs were killing me” she explained, an unspoken promise to rise once she was rested faded from her lips.

When the stranger smiled at her, Blue wagged her tail and wiggled across the ground to plop her head in the woman’s lap. “Oh thank you.” Jonas beamed at such a nice compliment, his eyes were on her lips rather than the rest of her face as she continued talking. “Oh no I am not. I um just do it as a hobby.” He rested the hand holding his brush in his lap before letting out a little “Oh!” and reaching over to make sure she had enough room next to his paints, scooting them over so the stranger could spread her legs more if she wanted to. 

“Oh no it is fine, you should sit where you want. I am sorry if it seemed like you um could not come join me.” He fully understood why someone wouldn’t, Blue was huge for a dog and as friendly as she was that could still be scary for some people. “I um hope you do not mind Blue, she likes pets.” He said, gesturing to his needy dog. “Are your legs alright? I have some water here if you need a drink.” He tugged two bottles out of a side bag that had been sitting on the ground next to the bench. “They um haven’t been opened yet.”  Het set them next to her in case she needed them.

Nicole tilted her head, admiring the composition. “Well, must be nice to be so fucking good at your hobby” she couldn’t think of any activity she was as good as this person was at theirs. She was curious though. What did he do for a living instead, then? Was that too much to ask? It felt like too much. It wasn’t exactly related to the ongoing conversation. Fuck it, there was nothing wrong with chatting. She knew this. It was good for her to expand her social circle. “If… this is your hobby, what’s your real thing?”

Tension rolled off her shoulders as Nicole was introduced to Blue. “Does she…” still, it was a little frightening to extend her hand to the friendly —but massive— dog before her. Tentatively, she scratched under Blue’s chin, retreating her hand slowly. Unscathed. She didn’t want to imagine what a bite of that creature could do. “I don’t mind her, she’s a little intimidating, though. What breed is she?” 

At the offer, Nicole shook her own water bottle, flashing a grateful smile. “Maybe if I end up drinking all of this. And— my legs...should be fine. Just tired. Always forget how tiring the trail can be” she rubbed her hamstring with the heel of her palm, wincing at the tightness. Her attention drifted to the scenery, still idly massaging her muscles. Until her gaze fell on the painting again, and it broke the haze she was in. “So this is… Landscapes? That all you paint?” 

The other was nervous, Jonas could tell that much by the way the woman handled herself. He tried to offer a kind smile to ease her worrying about sitting near him. “I appreciate the compliments. Do you have any hobbies you like aside from running?” He leaned forward and actually let his brush rest on the edge of the easel after rinsing the paint off the end with a little cup that was sitting on the ground. He almost missed her next question,  “I work at The Bread Cemetery, it is the bakery located downtown. Um I also do work with ghosts. What work do you do?” 

Blue let out a soft whine at the pets as if to say, ‘See I’m friendly!’, her tail wagging slowly but standing up and moving back to Jonas once the stranger was done, laying by his feet to resume guard duty. “Oh um we think she’s a German Shepherd.” He knew exactly what she was but some people took the news of her being a barghest worse than him just saying she was a really big common breed. 

“Then I will leave them there just in case.” Jonas had another in his bag so he wasn’t worried if she needed it. “Mm I used to do portraits but I um do not anymore.” He still sketched people but he neer fully committed them to a painting since his father berated the one he did for him. 

“Ah… N—no. That would be it” the blush creept on her cheeks as she answered. Nicole wasn’t ashamed (for once), just slightly self-conscious. Realistically, there wasn’t much time for other things. Going between home and work week in and week out left her with only weekends to enjoy herself. And by then, all she really wanted was to spend time with her girlfriend and their pets. Yeah, even Jane. She was kind of a workaholic, unintentionally at least. “Used to garden, but uh— moved somewhere I can’t have that”. What she got in return was so much more fulfilling than plants could be. The bakery name sounded familiar and she had to wonder if she might have been there before. In her defense she didn’t usually look up before entering a place. Something more fascinating than bakery names caught her attention, though. “What—what do you mean…work with ghosts?” 

Nicole grinned, amusement reaching her eyes. She almost wished she had brought Nacho along, have him befriend Blue. “Huh, I see” Blue was not a German Shepherd, that much she knew. But she wasn’t going to push further than that. She knew Wicked’s rest fauna could get interesting. “Pretty well fed… she must be” she went for the observation instead. That wasn’t a lie. 

She gave him a quiet, thoughtful glance before she got swept by her own thoughts. Her body thrummed with anxious energy, sensing there was more to his answer. She wasn’t ready to push the veil of the unsaid yet, and maybe he wasn’t either, so there was no point in trying. They were strangers after all, no? And this was a chance encounter likely to be forgotten by both of them. 

Her next words weren’t particularly well crafted, more of a stream of consciousness, but Nicole knew she wanted to say something. She hoped she found the meaning along the way. She stared solemnly into the horizon, purple hues striking as the sun was done setting. “My first day here. I uh— had been…” oh, no. Too close. Emotional landmine. She stepped aside just before it could explode underneath her and spill a mess of her most vulnerable bits. She cleared her throat, “you know, life” she gestured vaguely, a watery chuckle the only sign she was affected by it. “Right. First day, didn’t know shit about this place… all I knew was, I saw this massive rock near the coast and I wanted to reach the top of the trail. So I did” And she cried. Ugly and visceral in a way she hadn’t been able for a year after she lost her family. Grief rolling off her like the waves crashed against the rocks below her. Powerful but inevitable. Eroding away at the foundation of her being. The first time she stood at the top of Hanging Rock was coincidentally the lowest point in her life. 

What was the message she was trying to convey?

She could’ve said something like ‘I felt alive’, and it would’ve been truthful. It just wasn’t the beautiful kind of alive. It had been raw and almost unbearable enough to fill her head with ideas that would’ve meant she wasn't here to admire this painting now. That memory was safely tucked in the depths of her mind and it should remain so. “It was some experience” she settled for, her voice detached enough to sound like a casual anecdote. 

“Seeing your painting brought all that back. The pain, the hope…” albeit, not the positive ‘everything is going to be okay’ kind of hope but more of a ‘the gaping whole in your chest will never feel worse than it did a minute ago, which you survived’ spin on the same feeling. And there it was, what she needed to say. “You capture it perfectly” she pointed at the canvas, pursing her lips. She swallowed against the knot in her throat, “if you put the same sorta magic behind your portraits as you do with this, I think… it’d be a waste not to share that”.

“Gardening can be very fun, I am terrible at it. Traveling for work makes it hard to keep plants alive. Have you considered trying to do potted plants? They may be allowed in the place you live in if tending to your yard is not.” Jonas was happy enough with the two hobbies he already had, but he could admit there was always something nice about getting your hands in the dirt and planting seeds. Making something grow out of nothing was always a special feeling. “Yes I work with ghosts. I do seances to talk to them and help them move on. It is my main job, the second is running the bakery for my mother while she is away.” 

Jonas loved his work even if some people thought it was strange or just didn’t believe in ghosts all together. There was something special between him and the dead that he just didn’t share with the living. He could sit there for hours listening to a ghost talk about their life and genuinely enjoy every second of it. It probably helped that he could actually hear what they were saying though he never minded that he couldn’t hear the living. He had other ways to communicate even if one of them in particular wasn’t the most reliable he got by just fine. 

Blue wagged her tail at the mention of her name, not bothering to look away from view in the distance. “She is well fed, um I am surprised she does not put on weight. She gets a lot of treats.” And she deserved all of them as far as he was concerned. She kept him safe and kept him company and made these last few weeks in Wicked’s Rest a lot more bearable with how many unknowns he was facing. 

Jonas was taken aback by the woman’s next words. He never thought his paintings could elicit feelings from others; it was always just something he did to calm his mind. Something had happened to her on this trail that seemed to have shaken her, he couldn’t help reaching out and putting a hand over hers giving it a slight pat as the woman continued. He really wasn’t sure how to respond to such honest praise of his paintings. It wasn’t something he was used to, then again he was mostly caught up on how Jacob had always seen them. “If you um like when I am done painting I would be more than happy to give it to you, I am Jonas by the way. I um do not know if you have noticed but I do not hear very well. You have been very kind to keep facing me while talking, so I would be more than happy to deliver it to you.” 

One minute Nicole was smiling, thinking about gardening and getting home to discuss the possibility of plants with Leah. And the next it felt like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over her head. She gritted her teeth, schooling her face to remain neutral, friendly, despite the stranger revealing more information about his line of work Seances. That wasn’t so bad, right? There was a chance, of course, that he had no real talents to pull that off. That he was a fraud. But she knew better than to give a medium the benefit of the doubt. 

She felt the jaguar protest against her chest. A cold, painful pang. It agitated inside her, and Nicole let out a cough, the perfect excuse to rub her chest soothingly. It’s not like this man said he could exorcise her, there was no need to panic. Hard to get a spirit to understand that, however. “I see… that’s— it sounds pretty scary” she offered, because people being scared of ghosts sounded normal. Like something a person who didn’t carry one inside would say. 

She preferred to continue the conversation about dogs or paintings, so she didn’t press for more questions about his job. She didn’t think the spirit would like her to. Whatever idea she previously had of planning a playdate between Nacho and Blue went out the window with the new information, however. Nicole only nodded at his comment on Blue’s diet, knowing damn well he was lying. And if he was lying about his dog’s breed, what else could he be lying about? It took her a moment to drag herself out of the depths of her panicking brain, forcing herself to remain present. She tensed at his touch, but didn’t pull away. It was grounding, in a way she hadn’t expected. And stopped both her spinning mind, and her aching heart.

His offer to gift her the painting threw a wrench in all the assumptions she was already making about him, which nudged her towards reason and logic. Just because he worked with ghosts it didn’t mean he would hurt her. He wasn’t a hunter, after all. Not every medium knew or cared for balam. She had the leverage of information.

Nicole had noticed his difficulty hearing, of course. But her amount of experience with deaf —or, was there more more appropriate term for it these days? (she was jumping on google when she was back home) — was non existent, so she felt awkward to bring it up. It wasn’t the best strategy, glossing over things so important. But she had never expected this exchange to turn personal when she innocently sat next to the stranger. “Ah. Yeah. Nicole” she did offer a smile, as genuine as she could. Because if the word ‘medium’ weren’t hanging over their heads right now, she would’ve admitted how pleasant the encounter with Jonas had been. “And uh, thank you for…” listening wasn't the right word— fuck, was it? “Letting me uh, talk. My thoughts kind of...go all over the place. I’m always shifting gears and… I don’t— I’m never sure if I’ll find the point I’m trying to make” she shrugged, averting her eyes then. It did feel pretty vulnerable, not being able to face away. Maybe that’s what got her so willing to talk after all.

But with the new information, him dealing with ghosts, Nicole didn’t think it’d be wise to stay back for a chat. Not because of her, but because of the spirit stirring within. “I do have to go um, soon—” she felt herself get breathless. She couldn’t trust it not to burst out of her and chomp on him. “But I’d like it if…” She pulled up a pen and paper from her sling bag (fine, maybe Leah was right forcing her to carry one just in case, she’d stop complaining) and scribbled her address. “Maybe you can… send it here?”

Years of staring at and paying attention to the smallest of details on their face made Jonas rather adept at noticing the shifts in people’s moods. It was not hard to see how mentioning his work with ghosts seemed to make Nicole tense up. That wasn’t strange, there were a lot of superstitious people out there who became uncomfortable when talking about the dead.He was just glad she didn’t also stop to disprove him of his claims. He was bad at arguing even after years of having to deal with it. Nowadays he just smiled and let the other person rant without trying to disprove them. 

“I am always happy to talk.” Jonas meant it. Most of his work was just listening to people who were frustrated at their circumstances or upset and confused. He found it could also be applied to the living and that people would happily ramble to someone who was willing to sit there and take it all in. Most of the time they seemed to leave feeling better. He watched as Nicole stood to leave, wondering if the ghost talk made her feel worse even after the talk of her trek up the trail. He was pleasantly surprised when she offered him her address. “I will make sure it gets to you.” He made sure to make a show of putting the address safely in his wallet before the woman walked off, offering a little wave to the retreating form as he went back to painting. It had been a lovely encounter and he found himself adding a small figure on top of the bluffs. 

[awkwarddystopianwarlord]

The Hobbit Trilogy Will Always Disappoint Me

Remember the Lord of the Rings movies? Remember how impeccable and nearly perfect they were? Remember how many people fell in love with Tolkien’s world brought to life? Do we even need to remember, when that strong love for those movies is still around to this day? Apparently so.

The Hobbit trilogy was a cash grab and it didn’t need to be and I’m angry about it. I finally read the book all the way through some months ago but it was read to my class almost to the end when I was in seventh grade and I had almost read the whole thing around then too. I have a good grasp on the story. The trio of movies did not have a good grasp at all. There is already a huge fan base for everything Tolkien, yet it seemed that the movies forgot about that and tried desperately to garner people’s attention. They butchered the plot in favor of poor action scenes and nonsensical romantic relationships. They took an incredibly simple story and mutilated it.

There were ways to make the slow pace and quiet chapters screen worthy. Honestly, the book would be rather easy to condense with proper transitions. The change of seasons, the wear and tear of the characters, the loss of supplies, a montage or two of various sceneries from multiple angles. Showing the Battle of Five Armies would make for good cinema, and they did that, they just did it bad. Which is so frustrating because the LOTR trilogy has beautiful battle scenes and those could have inspired so much. I’ve watched over and over again compilations of those battles because they leave me in awe every time. If they wanted reasonable pacing, this could have been a duology of movies, the first one “There”, the second “Back Again”. Not saying those should be the titles, but in terms of story they contain, the first covers the first half of the journey and the second covers the way back home. Not everything has to be a trio. 

I’m just so mad about these stupid movies because I’m such a LOTR lover, I have the dvd extended edition box set. I spent forty dollars on Amazon to get the Two Towers extended version in that form because one of my discs died. Those movies were made so long ago all things considered but they look a thousand times better! The quality, the effects, the costuming, the filmography, stunt work, writing, everything! The Hobbit trio looked so cheap for no reason. The CGI was insulting, the dialog weak, the characters butchered. They fucked up the timeline just so they could get fan service over characters that weren’t even born yet and to tie in plotlines from the original movies that made no sense. The whole thing sucks so much because they would have had a huge audience regardless since there are so many fans out there. We didn’t need cardboard romances from thin air or video game physics fights. We needed to see the love and appreciation and passion for these movies the same way we did before. We needed authenticity and care and we got an empty husk instead. The casting wasn’t even an issue in my opinion, save for the extra characters that shouldn’t have been there, but they had so little to work with. 

The same director from the LOTR trilogy was not enough to save the accursed Hobbit trilogy. It was a flop and it makes me sad. I’m not the biggest fan of remakes but I love expanding worlds and stories and the Hobbit was a perfect opportunity for that but they dropped the ball hard. I hate money and executives. They always ruin perfectly good products and ideas and everything for greed. Money needs to no longer continue to be the main purpose for creation, it fouls everything that comes from that. We deserve better. Stories deserve better. Tolkien deserves better.

[paleparearchive]

Before & After

Michelangelo's Autumn Sketch Battle 3★ story (1/2) ( 1 - 2 )

Location: terrace (morning) | Characters: Michelangelo, Aoi/MC

Aoi: (Just a few more days until the sketch battle! I want everyone to be fully prepared for the challenge, so I'll ask everyone to check what they need as soon as possible.)

(Still, I'm hearing about the sketch battle all over town, too. Not so long ago, there would have been little interest in a sketch competition being held… That's how much art has permeated Palette City. If only we could keep this up and make it more exciting…!)

Michelangelo: …

Aoi: (Ah, it's Michelangelo-kun. It looks like he's painting today, not sculpting. That's unusual, since most of the time he works in his room or in the atelier…)

Michelangelo: … Heh, guess it's somethin' like this.

Aoi: Hello, Michelangelo-kun.

Michelangelo: Ah, director.

Aoi: I see you're painting outside today.

(He's starting to get out of his room more than before, which is probably a good trend.)

The scenery changes with the seasons and it's a nice change of pace. It's good to paint outside.

Michelangelo: No, it's not that…

Aoi: Uh? It isn't?

Michelangelo: This is just practice to get used to being outside.

Aoi: R-Really…

(I'm not sure what Michelangelo's reasons are for getting used to being outside….)

But why bother practicing when you can go out these days?

Michelangelo: You say goin' out, but it's only for a lil' while. A tournament means you'll be outside all morning, right? It's different from paintin' in a room, 'cause it's so much more crowded outside. Plus, I heard there's gonna be a lot of people... So I'm gonna get used to it while I still can.

Aoi: I see…

(Michelangelo-kun is thinking positively, isn't he? If it was when we had just met, he might not have even participated in the first place…)

Hey, can I see the picture you were drawing, if you don't mind?

Michelangelo: Do what you want.

Aoi: Thank you.

(Michelangelo-kun was very expressive before, but now he's more…)

Michelangelo: … How is it?

Aoi: Every detail has been painted with great care. I can sense Michelangelo's attention to detail. Usually you tend to focus on the muscles, but today it's a landscape painting, so it's balanced overall. There's nothing in particular that concerns me at this stage, so I guess you'll just have to try adding some color to it.

Michelangelo: I see… Then, when I finish it, will you lemme know what you think?

Aoi: Of course! If it's okay with me, I'll look at it anytime.

Michelangelo: … Mh.

Aoi: (Michelangelo-kun listens properly and asks for feedback himself…)

You've been more open than usual, it's unusual, isn't it?

Michelangelo: … It's not about bein' open or anythin' like that. It's just that that guy says a lotta stuff. If I don't draw it right, he'll be annoyin' and tedious.

Aoi: (By “that guy” he means Da Vinci-kun, right? Whatever the reason, I'm glad he's willing to do it.)

Come to think of it, it looks like the weather is going to be really nice that day. The wind seems to be blowing, so I'm sure you'll be able to draw comfortably, won't you?

Michelangelo: Really…?

Aoi: Really, I'm sure of it.

Michelangelo: If you say so... Well, I believe you.

Aoi: (It's not just Michelangelo-kun and the others, everyone else is also motivated… Fufu, I'm looking forward to that day.)

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

An art retreat at the Apple Blossom Diner and Inn

I thought after visiting the Snowcaps we’d be back at the camp by now before going off on another adventure, this time out in space. I mean, we still have plenty of time to rest and recharge before the holiday rush, so a detour’s no big deal.

Knowing how hectic the holidays can be, I try to manage my time effectively so I don’t end up being stressed and burned out. As an introverted homebody, I need time to rest and recharge my social battery. I don’t mind being by myself, but sometimes it feels kinda lonely knowing that you can’t be as social like most people. Sure, I go on lots of travels and adventures, but I also have times where I just do nothing in between, and that’s how I pretty much function.

Luckily, most of my friends are kinda similar, so that makes it less alienating. And my extrovert friends are respectful towards us introverts when we just don’t have the energy to keep up with them. I know some people who are less than understanding. And even though most of them try, to them, it’s an inconvenience, a personality flaw that needs to be fixed.

It’s not so much of an ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,’ but more like, ‘we refuse to accept that people have different ways of functioning, so if you can’t keep up with our pace and do things our way, then it’s obviously your fault for being so incompetent.’ I don’t want to go off on a tangent but it really does feel like that sometimes, especially during the holidays when you have to interact with certain people.

Although I was a bit hesitant about a sort of last minute retreat, I’m glad I went. First of all, I got to finally meet Beryl, Ruby, and Topaz, as well as catch up with Landry, Connie, and Pai. and, of course, most of our time up there was spent alone, just taking in the scenery and focusing on whatever creative projects we wanted to really make progress on.

There’s just something about being in a cafe with a cozy atmosphere that makes me feel more inspired to be in a creative mode. I think it helps when everyone else is looking for the same, so it’s not like you have to worry about a group of people coming in just to socialize, which is nice, but it also breaks your concentration. Another plus is when the place has quite a bit of activity while not being too crowded and overwhelming.

The Apple Blossom Diner and Inn is one of those artsy retreat places for people who need a couple days to rest and recharge. To keep it from getting crowded and defeating the original purpose of the place, space is limited. Eloise happened to luck out as she was originally gonna go solo and later found out that the other group that was planning to visit the same time as her had to cancel at the last minute. In other words, she would have gotten the entire inn to herself, which she felt would be kinda weird and probably not good for business. So she invited me, Connie, Pai, the siblings, Daisy Jane, and Landry’s entourage, putting us at around 12 people, which is a decent party.

I remember Landry saying that she got a new position, something that reunited her with Captain Yang, an old friend who’s now her partner. Both of them are in charge of a new crew called the Epiphany. From what I’ve heard, being in charge of a ship is a huge deal, so congrats to both of them! They’re just starting out, so they’re focusing on finding their footing. So far, they have two members, Laufey and Jiangyi, wanderers who Captain Yang took under his wing.

Laufey accidentally let slip that there might be two more recruits. Jiangyi and Landry clarified that it’s not finalized yet, though they like that Laufey’s being optimistic. Connie also gave her a word of caution not to make any premature announcements as stuff can always fall through or suddenly change at the last minute. I suspect they’re referring to cases like Hanzou and Eloise, which makes sense. Although Yang said they were proceeding to move forward with one prospective member, and that was why they happened to be in the area at the time, allowing them to accept Eloise’s invitation.

And it seems like Eloise has an idea of who that person might be as she was able to figure out that Yang came from a place called the Fortress, which is in the outskirts of Marippe. Connie and Pai actually spent some time investigating there under The Justice’s supervision, though it seems like they likely have never met the person in question. To be fair, they were only in the Fortress for less than a week, and it’s a pretty big place.

Beryl’s spent some time there too, and while he’s not 100% certain, he has some speculations of who that person might be, like the fact that they might be a former inmate turned staff member, either with the medics or admin if they work odd hours. If that’s the case, then maybe they have some sort of connection with the warden, who was rumored to also have been a former inmate.

Okay, so maybe we spent a little too much time speculating about that, but neither Landry nor Yang stepped in, so I guess it’s not like confidential or something. I think Laufey and Pai are similar in that they’re easily excitable and enthusiastic, so they tend to get a little ahead of themselves. That’s not a bad thing, and I’m sure we all have a tendency to do the same, it’s just that Landry, Yang, and Connie have been through stuff like this a lot and don’t want her and the others disappointed when things don’t work out for some reason.

So I finally got to meet the siblings and that was a lot of fun. Beryl’s full of energy, definitely the extrovert type. He’s a performer who knows how to charm and captivate his audience. In contrast, Ruby and Topaz are more reserved, the kind of people who rather be behind the scenes and not draw too much attention to themselves.

It’s clear that they’re a close knit group, especially since for most of their lives, all they had was each other. After their mother died, they lived in the streets, just barely surviving. Then Beryl met some street performers and he got interested in learning their tricks. Eventually, Beryl caught the attention of some nobles, who he later found out were more interested in exploiting him and his siblings. Had the Underground not intervened, who knows what would’ve happened to them?

Beryl may act carefree but it’s clear that he has a lot on his shoulders. From my understanding, the Underground is a conflicting organization, which is why Connie and Pai are wary of them. To make matters more complicated, it seems like each faction in the Underground does their own thing, making it even harder to tell what their true motives are. At least in Marippe, the Underground faction over there, the Court of Honor, is more of a neutral group rather than an outright antagonistic one. Since Beryl, Ruby, and Topaz were basically raised by them, it’s safe to say that they have strong ties.

I figured that Connie has their reasons for helping Beryl out when he was targeted as a scapegoat. Aside from him being an intriguing person, his ties to the Court of Honor would be worth looking into as well. That’s why Connie and Beryl were able to negotiate a “package deal” with Marippe’s adventurer’s guild, to be able to safely exchange information while keeping an eye on each other. I guess a lot has happened since then and now it seems like they’re all getting along well.

Ruby seems to be the opposite of Beryl as she’s a lot more laid back and would prefer to let the others do the talking. She and Beryl have a fun dynamic with her deadpan expressions being a stark contrast to his dramatic flair. Ruby claims that because they’re twins, that means they can read each other’s minds, which is why she likes to mess with him once in a while.

Topaz isn’t as well known compared to his performing siblings, and he prefers to keep it that way. While he’s also quite talented in the arts, he’s more interested in mechanics. He’s also a certified diver who specializes in underwater ruins, which sounds really cool. According to Beryl, he knows most of Marippe’s underwater like the back of his hand.

Right now, Connie’s taking a bit of a break, especially after the last few weeks have been hectic. There’s still a lot of unresolved issues that need to be addressed, but right now there’s nothing to do except wait. I don’t fully understand what’s going on, but I can tell it’s been kinda rough on Connie and the siblings. Eloise is probably dying to know what’s going on too, however, she’s been around long enough to know when not to poke around.

That said, I think this was a good time for a retreat. The island’s sort of in the middle of nowhere - right between the waters of Marippe and Adrikha, sort of smack dab in the middle. It’s a nice, quiet place, the ideal location for those who just want to shut off and get away for a bit. There’s also a bit of a more touristy area for travelers as it is a stopping point for those at sea, so if you want a bit more activity, then you can hang out there.

For us though, aside from meeting up and leaving, we mostly stuck to the inn and diner. The diner’s fairly busy, so it’s not like we’re totally off on our own. I didn’t plan to do much, and that’s just the way I want it.

While hanging out and trying almost everything at the diner, I sort of ended up starting a knit along. I think I ended up being the leader because I happen to be the most experienced knitter in this group. Aside from the siblings, the rest of the group has dabbled in knitting. I’d say that Daisy Jane, Laufey, Pai, and I are in the intermediate level. Connie, Yang, and Landry are more like advanced beginners. Eloise and Jiangyi have learned the basics and are interested in delving more deeply into the hobby. And the siblings are starting from scratch, though they’re making good progress and want to learn more as well.

Somehow, we had this bright idea to have our main project be a cardigan. I mean, we had the novice knitters do simple things like scarves as a warm up, and they’re pretty confident with the basics now. At least the cardigan is beginner friendly, part of Jamila’s Classic Novice collection, which is specifically designed for new knitters who are interested in the world of garments. It’s a basic, classic stockinette cardigan that pretty much goes with anything. And as usual with Jamila’s patterns, she has suggestions for modifications if you want to do step a bit outside your comfort zone and try something different.

So while it may be a bit ambitious - don’t @me, I’ve never “hosted” a knit along before, nor will I be super strict about the pace because idk - but I think it’ll be a fun thing to do over the holidays. Between this and a scarf, the cardigan was unanimous. I mean, I agree, a cardigan’s a lot more interesting than a scarf. And this is just from my experience, but as long as you know your basic increases and decreases, a seamless raglan stockinette cardigan shouldn’t be too difficult to pull off. I had the others, specifically the novices to look at the pattern several times before deciding that we were gonna do it.

Of course, we weren’t a 100% sure until we visited a yarn store that was a couple blocks away from the inn as we had to get the materials before we could start. Not only we needed yarn, but we also needed needles, row counters, and stitch markers. There happened to be sale, so we lucked out on that. Once we saw what yarn they had, our enthusiasm shot right up!

Since I’ve been doing a lot of neutrals lately, I went for a variegated yarn called rose boba milk tea, which is a lovely blend of pinks, browns, beiges, and blues. It was a lot of fun seeing what colors the others chose. Daisy Jane went for a lovely sky blue, Landry chose a lilac and cream beige colorway, Eloise picked a red and orange colorway called sunset. Ruby chose a warm rust brown, Beryl went for shades of ocean blue, and Topaz, a pretty shade of ochre. Connie settled on a soft tweed with earthy colors while Pai went for a bright electric blue. Yang chose a colorway called cappuccino and Jiang went for dark olive green.

Along with catching up on some much needed alone time, we all made good progress on our cardigans. I wanted to make sure they got a hang of the raglan increases before we left. And because it’s a top down construction, we can easily adjust the length to our liking. Since this is a simple, basic pattern, it’s easy to customize however we like.

So in my case, as I’m a bit more advanced, I decided to follow Jamila’s suggestions for short rows, which will add some nice shaping. I’ve only done German short rows, and while I still don’t really understand how short rows work, I do like how they shape a garment. Plus, it makes me feel more like an expert knitter.

Daisy Jane and I also taught the novices how to pick up stitches for the sleeves, so we got extra needles for that. I’ve never done it myself but I’ve heard of people starting the sleeve while doing the body so they wouldn’t be in sleeve island. I know for designers especially, they need to be able to see how everything works out, so it makes sense for them to multitask. I find myself with second sleeve syndrome, so maybe I should try doing things out of order and see how that works out - if I remember.

Everyone made good progress on their cardigans, and with the construction of working the button band at the same time - on the same needles as the body - it’s bound to go by more quickly. Just as I hoped, the novices were able to get through all the raglan increases and get started a little bit on the body, which is just knitting straight. At least the button band and button holes will keep things interesting.

It’s nice seeing how everyone’s projects are working out, especially with the novice knitters enjoying the process. Ruby’s a quick learner, as well as Eloise. Beryl struggled a bit at first, but he was determined to get it right and soon found his rhythm.

Topaz and Yang are interested in the mathematical aspects of knitting, like shaping and gauge, which I’m afraid are beyond my scope. It’s interesting to note that quite a few knitters and designers I follow have a background in math and science related fields like engineering or health science. Like Jamila has a degree in psychology and biology, and a popular knitwear designer in the community went to medical school. There’s also a lot of indie dyers who studied in some field of science and chemistry.

I didn’t really give a finish date as I knew that we were gonna be busy for the holidays, plus I wanted the novices especially to go at their own pace. I mean, it’s a simple pattern that’s a fairly quick knit, so it’s easy to pick back up if you take a break.

Overall, I had a good time at the retreat. I wasn’t expecting to do much, so it was a nice surprise planning a knit along. We also got to enjoy a lot of good food and drinks the inn has to offer, as well as the quiet scenery and cozy spaces. I’m looking forward to how my cardigan’s gonna turn out, as well as everyone else’s. I’ll unfortunately have to put my project on the back burner a bit to focus on gift knits, which hopefully won’t take too long as they’re smaller projects. But it’s a mindless yet engaging knit, so I’ll definitely pick it up when I need to de-stress.

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[moeshachare]

FAS3000 - Final Evaluation

For this project ‘The Story of You’, I came up with my narrative: Chaos vs. Nature. I define this topic as living in my hometown Birmingham where the city environment is busy, ongoing and is a constant reminder of negative memories and traumatic experiences I have endured as a child. This is the chaos that takes over my life. As for nature, I am thinking about my favourite scenery: sunrises and sunsets. For as long as I can remember I have always had a spiritual connection to the sky, it makes me believe there is a better life waiting on the other side and makes me feel closer to God. This is an internal escapism I use when I am feeling anxious or stressed. The ultimate message of my narrative is that I am escaping my stress and upset and settling into my place of peace, where I feel positive, empowered and more than enough. Chaos vs. Nature is an expression of how my environment affects my mental health. This is a part of me I have never discussed before so this is something personal where I can go in depth and get more in touch with myself.

My research started off by taking pictures of varied details within my local environment and daily commutes.

As the ideas for my narrative were constantly changing, it was difficult to find my focus. However, my research journey became easier to develop as I finalised this sunrise/ sunset topic of my narrative. I began to focus on taking photos of the sky at different times of the day and then the contrasting scenery of the city then stood out to me. Being in the city is a main part of what I see every day so combining these ideas made a lot of sense. This has helped my design journey as I continued to take photos throughout the project, in which I developed the colours for my palette and I identified and created similar textures inspired by the sky. My intentions were to learn existing and new skills and processes that would help me to visually communicate my narrative.

My primary research images have played a major part in my project so I have used them in all my samples. I have interpreted the colour, texture and dimensions from my photos by using materials such as light and translucent fabrics for my base and thin and thick yarns and threads to add texture in my samples. This links to my project as the materials and colours I am using are a reflection of my emotions, for example: I have practiced these techniques in a chaotic manner, which represents how my thinking is all over the place and I am just doing whatever I want without a plan. The darker colours reflects when my mind is a negative state and the lighter colours are making me calm and refreshed.

My successes in this project were my heat transfer disperse dye prints, digital sublimation prints and hand free machine embroidery because these were techniques that I have either learned in college or have tried once before. Because of this, I was able to think critically about my narrative and carefully select what materials I needed to produce strong samples at a quick pace and that would link back to my narrative. Another success of mine was my ability to further develop my samples by combining techniques I have learned over this module, for example: my first disperse dye print with reverse applique and hand free machine embroidery were a perfect combination of print and embroidery techniques used in one sample. Because I like to put things together spontaneously and seeing if it works, this shows my progress with experimentation through my sketchbook.

My weaknesses throughout this project were page layout for sketchbook and using secondary research. For my sketchbook page layout, I have started with strong pages that visually communicates my narrative and uses enough space. As I continued with my sketchbook, I began to struggle with laying out some samples as some were quite big or very busy and I wanted to make sure each page was still communicating my narrative. Regarding my secondary research, I have struggled to find artists who I can compare my work to. I have spent more focus on my primary research and developing my ideas that I couldn’t find a direct reference. Instead, I have looked at photographers such as Ross Jukes and Matt Peers because their photography work captured the essence of what am I portraying in my sketchbook. This has inspired my colour palette of sunrise and sunset and how to take photos of the sky and city aligning with each other which would strongly connect to my narrative.

If I could make any potential improvements with this project, I would work on refining samples, time management and having more self-belief and self-confidence. I tend to procrastinate and overthink a lot, which has affected me in not producing some samples to the best of my ability. To improve this, I would have reviewed all of my techniques to see how my weaker samples could have been developed, for example, using parts of an unsuccessful print in a collage or weaving sample.

Regarding my time management, I would organise my time more effectively in recording my progress for my samples as I have struggled to write and repeat what I am saying. I have sometimes struggled to produce as many samples as possible I wanted in the workshops, so planning my spare time has been important to make sure I am completing everything for my sketchbook.

Throughout this project, most of my experiments have been successful and have worked in my favour because when I looked at my sketchbook, I can visualize what my samples are communicating. However, there were a few samples that could have been refined by finishing the sample more neatly and adding or enhancing to a simpler sample such as adding texture on top of my weave sample to add more depth and meaning.

For my planning and production, I have used my timetable for this module to see where I would need to spend time in making more samples, e.g. I spent one week focusing on my weaving samples because it was very time consuming, and I felt that I didn’t have enough samples to showcase my skills. My initial idea was to follow the scheduled workshops and seeing what was available to do that moment, so that I am covering all the tasks given in this project and my work is coming out at a high quality.

When it comes to problem solving, I find that taking a step back for a few moments and reviewing what I have done was a very helpful tactic. It was very often that I would look at my work and get stuck on what to do next so having that time to refresh my ideas helped me to overcome this problem. Also, asking for feedback from my peers was very helpful because their ideas brought a new perspective that I didn’t know of and this helped me to continue with my own ideas but with a further outlook.

Overall, I am proud of my progress made on this project. I was able to revisit myself as a creative and learn new skills after having a long hiatus for my creative practice. I have always made sure I have kept to my ideas and developed them to communicate my message visually. I am very happy with my project came out and it has made me think about my transition to my degree in Textile Design and what I want to specialise in, which is print and/or embroidery. There are some improvements I would have made, but it is important that I could reflect on my strengths and weaknesses and use them to my advantage.

Lastly, above is my final outcome: an A2 presentation board with my strongest samples. I am very happy with how it came out because I have struggled slightly with the layout. Most of my samples were very busy and colourful so it was essential to have enough space for each sample to breathe and to make sure I had a lighter sample to create a balance. Looking at my presentation board I like how on the left side, my samples are laid out flat on the surface and on the right side, my samples are more textured and have a 3D effect. My only criticism for this board is use of colour; I feel that I have made my print samples repetitive, and the colours came out a lot brighter than I expected. If I did this again, I would use inks that would produce lighter colours. I believe that my presentation board would be able to visually communicate my story.