#so its like the stars really aligned... (pun intended)

[dasketcherz]

guys hear me out... this "i want" song is so Nuru coded

[tillidontneedfantasy]

A Track-by-Track Breakdown of Taylor Swift’s 9th Studio Album: ‘evermore’

“My collaborators and I are proud to announce that my 9th studio album and folklore’s sister record is here. It’s called evermore,” is how Taylor Swift introduces us to this album in its foreword. One might assume a “sister record” would entail b-sides, or tracks that didn’t quite make the cut for folklore, despite Taylor’s explanation that “we just couldn’t stop writing songs.” evermore’s release came at a strange time, upon the heels of the Folklore: Long Pond Studio Sessions film on Disney+, as well as 5 Grammy nominations for folklore. The world still captivated by folklore, it’s understandable why one might not consume evermore as critically. Even as a die-hard fan, I felt some whiplash by this announcement; I am still processing folklore! Hell, I’m still processing reputation!

If this was the Taylor from two years ago, this may have been a big enough fear of hers to hold off on releasing evermore. But as she explained upon folklore’s surprise release, life is too unpredictable now, and there are zero givens or guarantees. So she followed the same path this time (although making sure it fell in line with her birthday weekend). But it’s not just the strategic timing of the release that she’s thrown out the window for now, but also her mindset whilst making records. As she explains in the evermore album foreword,

“I’ve never done this before. In the past I’ve always treated albums as one-off eras and moved onto planning the next one as soon as an album was released. There was something different with folklore. In making it, I felt less like I was departing and more like I was returning. I loved the escapism I found in these imaginary/not imaginary tales. I loved the ways you welcomed the dreamscapes and tragedies and epic tales of love lost and found. So I just kept writing them.”

This is a revelation for Swift, to let the music lead her into artistic freedom, which is what makes evermore such a triumphant return. Truly folklore’s sister record, Taylor wrote evermore with the same creative team: Aaron Dessner of The National (Swift’s favorite band), long-time pal and collaborator Jack Antonoff, Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, and William Bowery aka Swift’s boyfriend, Joe Alwyn (as officially revealed in the Long Pond Studio Sessions). Additionally, former 1989 tour openers and close friends of Taylor, the HAIM sisters, join the crew, along with Marcus Mumford for some dreamy backup vocals.

The production is just as wistful and mesmerizing as it was on folklore, yet the storytelling on evermore is kicked up a notch, expanding on the topics and worldbuilding established in its sister record, with even sharper lyrics and an effective and elaborate use of alliteration. The best thing about Taylor is that no matter what she does, her masterful lyricism is always at the heart of her art, and somehow, she keeps getting better. Once again, I wanted to explore the rich stories she’s crafted in this woodsy universe. This is how I’ve interpreted the album, but I hope you find your own meaning in the songs as well.

1. willow It is fitting that the opening track to folklore’s sister album, where we wade further into the forest that is Taylor Swift’s imagination and storytelling, would center on the type of tree that is a symbol of hope, belonging, safety, stability, and healing. “willow,” one of the few more obviously autobiographical tracks on the album, is a hymn of gratitude for her man (as she wants you to know, yes, thirteen times), Joe Alwyn, and how the invisible string tethering them together pulled her to him in a time when everyone else was counting her out. Though not as present on many of the other songs later to come on this record, you can feel the lightness in her heart on this song as she embraces the way in which the willow has bent, wrecking her plans, throwing her into the water and leaving her happily lost and afloat in his current. The downward key modulation throughout the last two repetitions of the chorus is beautiful and very fitting for Swift vocally, but also sounds like the feeling of finding your comfort and settling into it, basking it in while you wait for the next place the wind pulls you. Best lyric: “Now this is an open/shut case / I guess I should’ve known from the look on your face / Every bait and switch was a work of art.”

2. champagne problems On the second track of the album, Taylor dives back into the fictional worldbuilding she began to explore on folklore. While on folklore high school relationships and dramatics took center-stage, evermore graduates from adolescence to young adulthood, not that it is any easier emotionally on the listener’s heart. “champagne problems” chronicles a rejected marriage proposal between two college sweethearts at their old dorm building. Taylor sings as the narrator, a reflective, self-deprecating young woman who jokes about belonging in a madhouse and dismisses all her turmoil as champagne problems. The term ‘champagne problems’ itself could have various meanings here: their trivial concerns, the fact that their “sister splashed out on the bottle” of champagne that they will not be using to celebrate as they had hoped, or perhaps it could even hint that excessive drinking is a piece of all the ways the narrator is “fucked in the head,” as they said. Although the person she is singing to is the one who got hurt in the story, the hurt in the narrator’s heart is just as palpable and relatable, because you only have yourself to blame when you self-destruct. Best lyric: “’She would’ve made such a lovely bride, / what a shame she’s fucked in the head,’ they said / but you’ll find the real thing instead / she’ll patch up your tapestry that I shred.”

3. gold rush On her YouTube live chat prior to the album’s release, Taylor explained that this song “takes place inside a single daydream where you get lost in thought for a minute and then snap out of it.” The daydream consists of a love story so pure that the town had never seen such a thing; it could only happen in a fantasy for the narrator. How could she possibly have the gall to call them out on their contrarian shit, or end up with her Eagles t-shirt hanging from their door, when they are so coveted by all, and when she cannot withstand the thought of even competing? She sings, “My mind turns your life into folklore / I can’t dare to dream about you anymore,” a sweet little connecting piece to this album’s older sister, effectively convincing herself out of the idea of jumping into the chaos of the gold rush because even inside her own imagination it’s too dangerous. Best lyric: “I don’t like that falling feels like flying ‘till the bone crush.”

4. ‘tis the damn season According to Aaron Dessner, Taylor had written the lyrics for “’tis the damn season” in the middle of the night amidst their Folklore: The Long Pond Studio Sessions recording after a long night of chatting and drinking with their co-conspirator, Jack Antonoff. The lyrics perfectly encapsulate the guttural ache the track evokes. It is a tale of two people who always find their way back to one another in their hometown, which acts as the ever-returning fork in the road. The path taken, back to L.A. in pursuit of her dreams, is the one she chose and continues to choose, but whenever she returns home, she takes a ride down the road not taken, just to get a taste of what could have been, even if just for the weekend. What starts off as an icy homecoming always transforms into the warmest intimacy. The success of this track is aligned with the success of Taylor’s entire career; even with such specific details, it feels so deeply personal to the listener. You know the street you’d drive along late at night laughing, the spot you’d park the car, the person who stars in every what-if. You will never really know if the road not taken is as good as it seems, but that might be ok; sometimes, the fantasy is better than the reality, anyway. Best lyric: “It’s the kind of cold / fogs up windshield glass, but I felt it when I passed you / There’s an ache in you / put there by the ache in me.”

5. tolerate it Inspired by the novel Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, “tolerate it” is an agonizing track from the perspective of a devoted wife who polishes plates and paints portraits and waits by the door for her husband with a battle hero’s welcome, who at best tolerates all her adoration. There are few things as painful as idolization being met with indifference, when you have all this love to give to someone who just leaves it there untouched. “tolerate it” captures that desperation for the approval you know will never arrive, but you sit and watch, waiting for it just in case you’re wrong, but you know you’re not. Best lyric: “I made you my temple, my mural, my sky / now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life / drawing hearts in the byline”

6. no body, no crime feat. HAIM “no body, no crime,” the one evermore song solo-written by Taylor, has the clearest plot from beginning to end. In the same vein as the female powerhouse country classic “Goodbye Earl” by The Chicks, Taylor is out for blood to avenge her friend, Este (named for one of the HAIM sisters). The story goes as such: Este’s husband kills her for calling him out on his infidelity, and then Taylor kills the husband and frames his mistress. The HAIM girls, who are long-time friends of Taylor’s and former touring mates, lend their vocals to reinforce the accusation on the husband and to provide Taylor’s alibi. “no body, no crime” is so far the closest we’ve gotten to a return to “country Taylor,” proving that she is still the master of a killer country tune (yes, pun intended, it had to be done I’m sorry). Best lyric: “Good thing Este’s sister’s gonna swear she was with me / (she was with me, dude) / Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy”

7. happiness Written a week before the album’s release, “happiness” is one of Swift’s strongest and most reflective breakup songs. Although she writes it as though it is recent, there’s a lot of power in knowing that she’s been happily in love for four years, and that she is even better now at doing the thing that has always been best at. She is finally “above the trees,” as she sings, and is able to see it all for what it is, but her character is still in the heat of it all, trying to navigate the stages of grief when a relationship ends. We see the narrator grapple with many of those stages throughout the song. Most striking is the anger displayed in the second verse when she sings: “I hope she’ll be a beautiful fool who takes my spot next to you / No, I didn’t mean that, / sorry, I can’t see facts through all of my fury.” That section is jarring and feels like one of the most honest moments in a Taylor song, the insanely difficult emotional balancing act when we are grieving a relationship. The devastation of loss can distort our perception, and a part of that is the difficulty of understanding how multiple seemingly opposing things can co-exist in our hearts, such as happiness because of someone and happiness after them. But when you leave it all behind and finally find your place above the trees, you can find happiness after someone and also look back and appreciate the happiness they once provided. Both of these things can be true. Best lyric: “Showed you all of my hiding spots / I was dancing when the music stopped.”

8. dorothea Taylor Swift has the uncanny ability to create such developed and well-rounded characters with such little information, which is what makes her storytelling so compelling. In “dorothea,” we learn much about the title character through the narrator’s eyes, and the relationship they once had. The lyric “skipping the prom just to piss off your mom and her pageant schemes” alone tells an entire story in itself. “dorothea” is also the companion song to “’tis the damn season,” just from the other person’s perspective, which helps shine even more light on the story. The narrator of “dorothea” reveres her but wonders if she’s still the same soul in L.A. as she was back in their never-changing town. Whatever the answer, they’re still willing to support her no matter where she is, but she’s always welcome back in Tupelo by her hometown love’s side if she ever just wants to be herself rather than someone known for who they know. Besides, they’re the only soul who can tell which smiles she’s faking. And you can always return to the road not taken. Best lyric: “They all wanna be ya / but are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers? / Well, I guess I’ll never know / and you’ll go on with the show.”

9. coney island feat. The National What really started the folklore / evermore journey was Taylor’s love for The National. Taylor has cited them as one of her favorite bands for many years, and as we know, this led to her beautiful new collaborative relationship with Aaron Dessner. So it would make sense for the track written with the intention of this duet to be so well executed; you can feel the love and care Taylor put into writing this song. In her press for these sister albums, she has spoken about trying to channel frontman Matt Berninger’s writing style. But what actually happened was she just produced her own signature lyricism at its sharpest. “We were like the mall before the internet, it was the one place to be / the mischief, the gift-wrapped suburban dreams / sorry for not winning you an arcade ring over and over,” is a hall of famer Swift-ian lyric. “coney island” explores the confusion, hurt, and self-reflection when a passionate affair burns out fast because you did not prioritize that person. And to top it off, Swift and Berninger’s harmonies are achingly beautiful, transporting you right there in the story, on the bench, wondering, over and over. Best lyric: “Do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there? / Will you forgive my soul when you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care?”

10. ivy Leave it to Taylor Swift to make a song about an affair sound so romantic, and so sympathetic to the narrator, that you’re rooting for adultery. “ivy” tells the tale of a woman in a lifeless marriage, likening her home with him to the tombstone that the widow in town visits each day. I like to think this is the same wife whose husband was out there building other worlds without her in “tolerate it,” because then that means she found someone who celebrates her love, who holds her pain for her, who blooms all over her; they started it, but she’s fighting for it all the way to the end, nonetheless. “ivy” showcases Swift’s gorgeous vocals and her sharp lyrics, with a melody so infectious it is bound to permanently plant its roots in your dreamland. Best lyric: “Oh, I can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland / my house of stone, your ivy grows, and now I’m covered in you.”

11. cowboy like me With the beautifully blended backing vocals of Marcus Mumford, “cowboy like me” is an entrancing love story of two con artists who lost at their own game and got conned into forever with each other. She’d gone from swindling old men for their money and fancy cars to falling victim to the danger of dancing with someone who only has eyes full of stars, and she knows she’ll pay for it. “cowboy like me” is one of the most romantic tracks on the record, proving that life never plays out quite as we plan. Best lyric: “Now you hang from my lips like the gardens of Babylon / with your boots beneath my bed / Forever is the sweetest con.”

12. long story short One of the more pop-sounding tracks on evermore, “long story short” is pretty much a summary of the long story behind reputation (2017). The song is filled with various metaphors for her reputation crumbling around her, and then finally putting her defenses down to be with her lover, someone as “rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky.” It is a sweet ode to her boyfriend, and a gentle comfort to her past self that it will all work out. But it is also an oddly relatable example of how we shrug off our struggles and minimize them to just a “bad time,” when the time she is singing about was obviously something that deeply affected her (as will be further explored in the title track); but sometimes it actually feels good to just shrug it off as just a blip in your life, because at the end of the day, you survived, and that’s what counts- even if you’re not keeping score anymore. Best lyric: “Pushed from the precipice / clung to the nearest lips / long story short, it was the wrong guy. / Now I’m all about you.”

13. marjorie Whereas track 13 on folklore was a tribute to Swift’s paternal grandfather, evermore’s track 13 is a tribute to her maternal grandmother, Marjorie Finlay, who was an opera singer in the 50s, and passed away in 2003 when Taylor was 13 years old. “marjorie” is quite possibly the most touching track Taylor has ever written thus far in her career. Grief is one of the most difficult topics to tackle in a song; the genius of “marjorie” is that it is simple, yet not understated. Swift reflects on the profound lessons she learned from her grandmother, about the difficult balances of kindness and cleverness, and politeness and power. She curses herself for not cherishing the moments she had with her, for complaining rather than understanding in the moment how admirable her spirit was, for all the amber skies she’d love but will never see. The chorus, blunt and hard-hitting, reminds us that someone does not have to be living to be alive, to be all around, to be with us. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were singing to me now,” Taylor sings towards the end of the song, right before you hear a sample of Finlay’s opera singing in the background, a truly eye-swelling moment. It is clear that Finlay played a pivotal role in Swift’s own ambitions, as she sings, “all your closets of backlogged dreams, and how you left them all to me.” Marjorie knew she was leaving them in good hands. If you haven’t yet, check out the moving lyric video for the song, where you can see photos and video clips of Marjorie, both throughout her career and in her time with Taylor. Best lyric: “Never be so polite you forget your power, / never wield such power you forget to be polite.”

14. closure On the most experimental track musically on the record, Taylor writes off her need for closure from a relationship of some sort, whether it be romantic or platonic or business, all of which can cause hurt of equal intensity. The subject of the song is trying to make nice with Taylor, and she is just not having it, as it is not coming from a genuine place, but rather to ensure that their life remains picture perfect, or to clear their guilty conscience, or to preserve their own ego. This is a deeply relatable sentiment; as valuable as forgiveness can be, sometimes the person who hurt you just doesn’t deserve it, and all you can do is forgive yourself for blocking their number or shredding their letters. Best lyric: “I know I’m just a wrinkle in your new life / staying friends would iron it out so nice.”

15. evermore feat. Bon Iver To close out the standard edition of the album, Taylor joins forces once again with Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, with whom she collaborated on the Grammy-nominated duet, “exile” for folklore. However, Swift leads most of the track this time, lamenting the difficult time she went through in 2016. The piano and Swift’s vocals are haunting, particularly when she describes this time in her life as “catching my death,” consumed by a pain that she feels will never end. If you’ve ever been depressed, you know what that feels like, and the dark places it leads you. Although she is singing about a time four years prior, it sounds so present, and it is heartbreaking to hear her in such a state. When Bon Iver comes in, the tempo of the song picks up, the piano riff becomes more erratic, like a winter storm hitting you in the face, and he voices all the anxieties of the cost of such a downfall. But through those anxieties, Taylor finds not a cure, but an anchor in love, and then the tempo slows back down. By the end of the song, Taylor has the foresight to understand that although it may not feel like it now, the pain she is experiencing is not permanent (a sentiment my therapist has been trying to instill in me for years). In her Apple Music interview with Zane Lowe, Taylor explained how the lyrics parallel the times we are in currently, and so it feels really special to have the album end with someone who knows how it feels to be imprisoned by your pain gently comfort us with the wisdom that “this pain wouldn’t be for evermore.” I hope one day soon, as we leave 2020 far behind, we can all truly believe her. Best lyric: “I was catching my breath / barefoot in the wildest winter catching my death.”

16. right where you left me (bonus track) The first bonus track on evermore, “right where you left me,” captures a moment so earth-crushing, a piece of you is trapped in it forever. In this song specifically, the narrator finds herself stuck in the same corner of a restaurant where she was told by someone she loved that they had met someone else. “Glass shattered on the white cloth, everybody moved on,” she sings in mourning. We have all experienced those moments that we could teleport back to if we just closed our eyes; the scenery, what you wore, the smell and taste of the season, the very point in your body where it felt like your insides were collapsing. Or that one particular person, who is long-gone from your life but seeing them is like time-travelling back to that person you once were, ready to pick up where you left off. But as much as you want to stay in that moment forever, just in case it changes in your favor, the cold reality is that the world stops for no one. Best lyric: “If our love died young, I can’t bear witness / And it’s been so long, but if you ever think you got it wrong / I’m right where you left me.”

17. it’s time to go (bonus track) “right where you left me” was Taylor’s cry for help to get out of restaurant, and “it’s time to go” is the answer to the call, as she sings in the first line, “when the dinner gets cold, and the chatter gets old / you ask for the tab.” This song is about gathering the strength to leave situations and relationships behind that no longer serve you. She grieves the betrayal of someone she thought to be a twin from her dreams (almost definitely referring to former friend, Karlie Kloss), acknowledges that keeping a marriage together for the sake of the kids often actually has the opposite intended effect (possibly- but not certainly- something she and her brother experienced), and recounts attempting to bargain with someone consumed by greed, only able to leave with herself (absolutely referring to the end of her fifteen-year long business relationship with Scott Borchetta, her former record-label owner). But as painful as leaving all of those situations was, Taylor has gained the wisdom to understand that walking away sometimes takes as much strength as persevering. You can’t stay at the restaurant, or at the mercy of someone else forever; you have to forge your own path, even if it’s in the opposite direction of what you envisioned for so long. And even with all her past success behind her, as folklore and evermore have proved, there is so much more ahead of her. Best lyric: “That old familiar body ache, the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul / You know when it’s time to go.”

In a time where we are all trapped in our homes and in our heads, the folklore/evermore experience has been the sweetest escape. If anything, the creation of these wonderful sister records has taught me that our most powerful tool in times of distress is our own imagination. Even just the ability to close my eyes while listening to one of these tracks and feel the character’s story is a gift. The way I’ve always been able to pick up Harry Potter and escape to Hogwarts when I’ve felt alone and friendless, I can listen to folklore and evermore when I feel scared or hopeless and escape into this enchanted forest Taylor has built, where I can climb above the trees and see it all for what it is. I feel so lucky to watch Taylor’s imaginative world unravel around me. I can’t wait to see what she creates next.

DISCLAIMER – REVIEWER’S BIAS: I would literally die for this bitch.  

[crystalitecloudie]

I am here today to present to you all,,

the genshin dystopian au <3

feel free to use this idea, just credit me lol. use the hashtag "#genshindystopianau" when using this idea

also DISCLAIMERS:

I'm 100% sure this is original but I'm sorry if someone else made a separate au with the same name,,,

this au can also be very derealizing to some people, so be aware of that k thanks <3

I was stuck whether or not to make Blanc or Mitsuki the protagonist, but in this post, it's from Mitsuki's POV

lastly I will definitely make more posts on this when I get motivation :)

anyways lets get going 🤩

so life is exactly how it is in the real world, genshin is currently a pretty popular game, and life is average and boring for our protagonist (who I'm gonna call X for now)

X has been a fan of Genshin Impact since its release, but wasn't able to play until early January of 2021, since she didn't have a device to play on. her first 5-star was Ganyu, and she's even AR 56.

however, she has maladaptive daydream disorder (AKA she daydreams too much) :,)

so it's hard for her to get motivation to go and play, since she'd rather just daydream about it than play it. if she somehow did have the motivation, she would be a much higher AR by now

she's basically a shame to the high AR name lol

then, one random day while she's at school, everybody's electronic devices glitch out and play some video explaining that Teyvat is actually real and that seven schools across the globe will be chosen at random, one based off of each region (the school has to be either a high school or college/university, and has to have a high enough student count, so really not all over the world but yk)

also on the off chance there is no electronic devices nearby, the video plays in reflections (such as water or mirrors). if all else fails, the person will literally get a vision (no pun intended). and it's in every language. and explains what genshin impact is. so everybody knows and understands. kk?? got that?? good

then once each region has a school associated with it, everyone inside the building is "locked in". nobody can leave or enter, including teachers and staff ;-; (also technically they can go outside, but there's a very strong elemental barrier around the school, so they can only go a certain distance)

FEAR NOT THOUGH, for "Celestia", aka the top organization people running this grand scheme, will bring supplies and basically whatever the archon wants to the school. cost is ignored/not an issue 👍

and that brings me to my next point -- a small selection of students are picked to have visions. these students have views aligning with the archon/region's views, so

Anemo = Freedom

Geo = Contracts, Loyalty

Electro = Eternity

Dendro = Knowledge

Hydro = Justice

Pyro = War

Cryo = Love

above is kind of like the guide to which element has which strong ideologies. so a little different from the game, but this makes things a lot easier for me lol

for example, if someone strongly believes in love and care, they would probably get a cryo vision (if they are in one of the seven schools. you have to be living in one of the seven schools to be able to get a vision). also their desires can be more twisted (for example, someone with a geo vision firmly believing contracts are unnecessary and should be broken), although this is uncommon.

depending on the school's corresponding region, the vision users in that school will have the special vision casing (ex: vision holders from the liyue school will have a liyue casing around their vision)

there's also an archon in each school, which was previously mentioned

one of the people in the school (usually the one with the strongest ideologies to that region's element) gets chosen as the school's archon. they're in charge of everyone in the school and can basically do whatever they want

and yes, they're even in charge of adults if they're a kid. They're also the only ones with contact to big boss Celestia

ALSOOOOOO whether the person has played genshin or not has an impact on the social hierarchy of the school (yes there is a social hierarchy, deal with it)

a special room in the school HAS to be dedicated to playing genshin (it's one of the few mandates given by Celestia, other than things like "don't try to overthrow Celestia, keep the social hierarchy, etc).

however, in order to enter the room, you have to be a "genshin member", which means meeting at least one of the following requirements:

1) be AR 16 or above in genshin impact

2) have been a fan of genshin impact since March 1st, 2021 (a test is taken to see your knowledge on genshin story and lore)

if you don't meet one of these requirements, you can't access the genshin room OR play genshin. playing genshin without being a member is a huge crime in the schools (depending on your class the punishment is different).

Social media is still permitted, and you can become a fan after the school lockdown and setup, you can just never play the game or enter the genshin room. and yes, vision holders may have no prior knowledge on genshin (so they have a vision but aren't members)

Below is the basic frame for school hierarchy:

Celestia

Archon

Vision holder, plays genshin

Vision holder, doesn't play genshin

Plays genshin, no vision

No vision, doesn't play genshin

lastly, anyone in the schools that are chosen has their appearance changed to be what they WISH they were (example: some dude wishes he didn't have a beard, and so his beard permanently disappears once the school locks down). this feature goes as far as to change someone's gender, so overall pretty positive

with all of this in mind, the schools are then chosen, and WHAT DO YOU KNOW, X's school is chosen to be the Mondstadt region, and she's also the anemo archon

I mean,,, she's a big fan of persona 5, and also wants to escape her extremely religious and Christian parents, so she does heavily align with freedom ideologies???

but she's like 16, unmotivated, and doesn't know what to do with her life

so she just pretends that she just has an anemo vision and is apart of normal Mondstadt society. she does send an email though with an alternate account to all the school staff, basically saying that since she's in charge, students are allowed to do whatever they want -- they don't have to go to classes, take tests that are normally required, or even eat school food if they don't want to.

she ends up putting this announcement out on the loudspeaker with a text to speech voice, since the adults don't listen, but also says that everyone must pursue some sort of passion or hobby, as long as it doesn't hurt others. The upper floor of the library is what is turned into the genshin room (a room specialized for genshin members to play the game and socialize about it)

her appearance is also completely changed, so she changes her name to "Mitsuki", since she has now taken on the appearance of her self-insert OC. fun 😋

before her school became the "irl mondstadt", she wasn't really noticed or liked?? everybody thought she was babyish and ditzy, mostly because of her disorder causing her to space out often. but she's actually really smart, and as she is now undercover as a normal person, she decides to keep up her child-like persona, despite being one of the highest-ranking people in Mondstadt.

even in her undercover state, she is literally the person with the longest association to genshin, and a vision (bc apparently long-time genshin players are nonexistent in her school ig?). if there wasn't an archon, she would have been the default leader anyway lol

so she's kind of just undercover bc she wants to be treated as a normal human being and not worshipped wherever she walks (which is understandable)

but since she's a ditz and seen as an idiot, leadership ends up in the hands of Blanc, a tall hot man with fluffy black hair and a Hydro vision. <3

he's been playing genshin since June of 2021 apparently, and he has good leadership skills (according to the mass Mondstadt population ig)

he's the one that gets a church built dedicated to the anemo archon to replace the west side of the building's third floor, and he's the one that Mitsuki is just like "Yeah I'm gonna leave this up to him"

plus he lawfully abides by the rules the anemo archon set, so that's a plus

also if you're wondering how he transformed the building so easily, I have an explanation for that 😈. basically now that the school is inside a barrier, those with proper authority can change the interior shape of the school with mAgIc (the outside still appears the same). so kind of like how in Encanto, there's all that space in those bedrooms, but logically that wouldn't all fit in that tiny house

anyways there's a lot more but I'm gonna save that for later lol. I have a plethora of things I could talk about, but this was more of an introduction post :)

Future Topics for Discussion on the Genshin Dystopian AU:

progression of the mondstadt school society (how it kind of builds into a full on culture, what that culture is like, etc)

OC's -- what are the characters? what are they like? what do they do?

Infrastructure -- what is on each floor of the school? how many floors does the school have? etc

what about the other schools (ex. the Sumeru or Snezhnayan schools? what are they like?).

the last one is one I haven't really thought much on, and is perfect for readers out there to make OC's from it. have fun lol

[therachelperspective]

BOOK | Scrappy Little Nobody by Anna Kendrick About the author: Anna Kendrick is shorter in person.

No really! That is the last printed page of this book; she wrote it herself! The shortest (haha pun intended!) author bio I think I’ve ever seen... but honestly, such a true testament to she who is Anna Kendrick. She may no longer be a “little nobody” in the world, but the scrappy part is still vehemently true, as proved through the plethora of personal stories shared in this, her debut novel. And I enjoyed every minute of it.

I’ll admit, I used this book the same way I’ve used many books I’ve read lately – as a way to decide if I like a celebrity or not. Like, for some reason, I seem to think I need proof that celebrities are likeable and human just like me, and then proceed to put a lot of pressure on their ability to write a book about themselves. HEAVEN FORBID they say something I don’t like.

*throws book down and walks away*

. . . *sighs*

*trudges back, picks it up and continues reading*

As a Twi-hard in my younger days, I knew of Anna Kendrick from the Twilight film adaptations (ok shush, it’s still a guilty pleasure despite all its numerous faults). Then, she was the cool rebellious-ish girl I always wanted to be as Beca in Pitch Perfect; she was actually great as Scott’s sister Stacey in Scott Pilgrim vs. the World; and it became fact that she reaalllly had pipes when she starred as Cinderella in the musical film adaptation of Into the Woods. And if that weren’t enough, on occasion we could all be reminded how entertaining she was/is/could be when she takes to the Twittersphere. She even wanted to call this book “A Tweet but Longer”. But, like many who came before her, I didn’t have any solidified opinions of her or her work; she was just another celebrity, and a seemingly quirky one at that. Yet I remained indifferent as always (I’m so annoyingly forlorn that way). Well, consider me swayed, y’all – I fricken love her. Let me say it a little louder for the people in the back just in case you missed it. I LOVE ANNA KENDRICK.

Sorry - sorry, I'll calm down.

Initially, what I thought were atypical jests from Anna that she would just post on social media, turned out to be the way her mind actually thinks and works on the regular. Or, ya know, she’s really good at faking it for roughly 270 pages and countless tweets. The entirety of Scrappy Little Nobody was full of amazingly witty quips that I absolutely relished in. Especially the wisecracks in which she was able to incorporate pop culture (I really do love when other people utilize pop culture references into every day banter; it brings me joy). Even better, I was actually able to learn more about her PERIOD, from the woman herself! Which is absolutely my preferred method of enlightenment. Because it turns out, I really didn’t know anything about her. Long story short, reading Scrappy Little Nobody was a revelation in more ways than one, and now I legitimately just want to binge all the work she’s ever done in film (and I suppose in series as well, as she recently starred in a HBO Max original show too).

I’m slightly fan-girling here, and it reminds me of the time I was blind to how great Amy Poehler was before reading her book. Oh, the rocks I’ve been living under. I’m slightly embarrassed.

There’s something to be said about actors that begin their careers in theater. Like, they give off a different sort of vibe that I’m not sure how to properly articulate. Anna is one of those actors, having gotten her start in le theatre when her age was still in the single digits. Commuting from Portland, Maine, to New York City for auditions may sound absolutely horrible – that’s a five-plus hours commute she would often make alone with her 14-year-old older brother – and then living away from home for months at a time during the run of said shows, SUCH KUDOS for that dedication. To add to the wonder of Anna’s diligence to her craft, this did gain her the “second youngest person” Tony Award nomination for her role in High Society. She was outdoing us long before any of us knew who she was.

Through tales of her childhood, young and not-so-young love, and what it’s like to be a part of films and the Hollywood scene at various ages, we learn that in a more realistic sense, Anna is actually more stocked with us commoners than her celebrity counterparts. During some of her retellings of award shows, events, and similar ventures that comes with her cinematic stardom, I felt as though she was just “one of us” that was allowed to take part in these things, so she could then regale to us an inside scoop of the realities of Hollywood. She is there because of her talent, of course, we all know; but she’s just as nervous around other celebrities as we middle-class fanatics would be. I know that even the most well-known, highest salaried celebrities are still just as human as I am, but sometimes it’s people who really show their vulnerability like Anna Kendrick that are naturally more easy to relate to. Like she tries her hardest to illustrate the warmth and tenderness shared during her time working with George Clooney, but you can’t help but still feel that that man is some form of superhuman regardless, even to her. The “OH MY GOD IT’S GEORGE CLOONEY” is still there. To quote the woman herself, “I am - at best - a normal human being, and this [her fame] has all been a big misunderstanding.”

However, amidst all the feelings of incompetency she constantly repeats throughout Scrappy Little Nobody (similar in the way that Amy Schumer constantly demeaned her own looks in Girl with the Lower Back Tattoo), I still enjoyed Anna’s book. I adored her style of humor, as it really does align with my own. And while her personality is inherently quippy, she shows a deeper, more poignant side of herself through some crucial topics she chooses to discuss within these pages. She may crack jokes, as we all might, to help lighten the tough stuff, but she still provides strong opinions – even if it’s just a sentence – about things that are important to her, sprinkled throughout pages about life in Maine, the theater, and Hollywood.

How do I most like Anna Kendrick though? She too is a 10-hour sleeper. I have finally found my people!

[ft-dads-au]

Spellbound

Shadowlight Week 2020 Prompt: Fantasy Pairing: Sting x Rogue

A Collaboration by @mdelpin​ and @oryu404​ for @gaymirajane​

Thank you, Mollie, for being such a constant and enthusiastic supporter of this AU and all our efforts! 💓 Your knowledge and beliefs were a huge inspiration for this story. We hope we didn't mangle any of it!  😅😄

AO3

Summary: Candles and strips of paper are normal, everyday items, but when combined with a strong enough wish they can become quite powerful. The lines between fantasy and reality blur when Rogue meets someone who could maybe, just maybe, be his literal dream guy.

Chapter 1: Fantasy

The flames of the candles that sat on the tray at the end of the bathtub flickered softly, making the shadows of the surrounding objects dance against the tiled bathroom wall. Rogue silently observed the movements, taking a deep breath and inhaling the scent of the herb-infused bathwater and the incense that burned in a small dish next to the candles before sliding down and submerging himself.

He stayed under, enjoying the feel of being suspended in the water until he had no choice but to come back up for air. He wiped his wet hair out of his face and sought the most comfortable position so he could relax and clear away all the unwanted thoughts the day had brought. Today he was determined to rid himself of all the negativity he had been carrying around for too long already.

The water started to cool down, as he’d been soaking in it peacefully for a while already. He removed the plug from the drain and climbed out, taking the pouch containing the once dried herbs with him to be emptied later. Instead of drying himself off completely, he only dried his hair a little, wrapping the towel around his waist and blowing out the candles on his way out of the bathroom.

With light steps that left a trail of drops and wet footprints on the wooden floorboards, he crossed the hallway and ascended the staircase to the attic, where his bedroom was situated. He closed the door behind him and unwrapped the towel, laying back on his bed to air-dry in the pleasant warmth of the late spring evening.

The sun was setting, its last rays slipping through the open moonroof, making the bland walls of his room look golden. It was still a few hours away from Rogue’s usual bedtime, even now that the days were getting longer, but when he deemed himself dry enough, he got ready for bed anyway. His eyes traveled over to the altar in the corner as he put on a pair of boxers and a sleepshirt. Once, it had been just an antique coffee table he’d inherited when his grandmother passed away, along with a matching cabinet that he used to store everything he’d collected over the years. Books, minerals, dried herbs and flowers, and lots of other useful items.

He combed out the tangles of his still damp hair with his fingers, and got comfortable in his bed, going over the checklist in his head to make sure he had everything he’d need for the spell he’d been planning to cast. The timing was important, and he had been waiting quite a while for the right moment to arrive. Where everything aligned from the date, to the hour, to the phase of the moon.

As the sun sank lower on the horizon, the room slowly darkened. Rogue closed his eyes and let the crickets sing him to sleep. He’d be up before dawn.

0-0

He’d gotten dressed and ready for the day as quietly as possible, as to not wake up his family members, who were sleeping soundly downstairs. The watch on his left wrist told him it was just past 5.15, and as he stood on his toes and stuck his head through the moonroof, he admired the beauty of the sky in its transition from night into day. The sun and the moon, coming together for a short time, against a backdrop of deep blues and violets, joined by a few scattered stars.

Rogue moved away from the moonroof and took a slow, deep breath, shifting all of his focus onto the task he’d set himself out to complete. He started the familiar ritual, drawing a circle around himself and the altar with a piece of chalk, and cleansing the space, his spell items and himself with a bundle of burning white sage.

When everything was done, he knelt, starting the preparation of his spell by placing two red candles on the surface of the altar in front of him. With a black-handled blade, he carved his name into the first candle and placed it back into the holder.

“I am a beacon of loving light. Let it shine and summon he who shall be mine,” Rogue spoke softly, lighting the candle after he finished.

He grabbed the next item, a red sheet of paper, and cut it into 12 pieces. On every piece, he would write down a desired trait his ideal partner would have, and he had no trouble coming up with the first trait.

‘Considerate,’ he wrote down neatly in gold ink, not wanting to deal with another possessive and jealous boyfriend. Once the ink had dried, he folded the paper three times. He focused on the word and its meaning, imagining every way he wanted it to be represented in a relationship. When he was done, he grabbed the red velvet pouch from the items he had set out and put the folded paper inside it.

The next traits he wrote down were ‘Honest,’ ‘Faithful,’ ‘Kind,’ ‘Spontaneous,’ ‘Likes animals,’ ‘Confident’ and ‘A good sense of humor,’ giving each piece of paper the same treatment as he did the first, but he still had 4 pieces left and found himself unsure as to what he should write on them.

He thought he’d covered all the personality traits that mattered to him, so he decided to focus on looks next. After all, a great personality wouldn’t make him fall in love if he couldn’t feel any attraction to the package it came in. And although his past crushes and boyfriends didn’t have a lot in common appearance wise, Rogue definitely had a preference, something that had enchanted him since he was old enough to recognize the feeling.

‘Blue eyes,’ he was already imagining it before he scribbled it onto the paper, smiling as he folded it because the stirring in his stomach told him that he’d made the right choice. To go with the blue eyes, he wrote down another silly bias, ‘Blond hair,’ and now that a visual was starting to form, his imagination was threatening to run away with him.

Tall, short, or average height? Slim, stocky, muscular? Fair skinned, tanned, or dark? Rogue pondered and fantasized, so many options to choose from and only 2 pieces of paper left. He frowned and pouted, twirling his pen between his fingers as he tried to just pick something, but truth be told, he didn’t really care as long as…

A loud snort escaped him that he managed to muffle behind his right hand as he wrote with his left, ‘Nice ass,’ scolding himself for having a dirty mind. But then again...not really.

He pressed his lips together, trying to hold back more chuckles as he indulged in mental images, justifying it with the excuse that the spell required him to. Feeling a warmth creep up from his cheeks to his ears, he forced himself to get his mind out of the gutter before he would get too distracted to finish the spell.

And on that note, for a second he’d considered picking ‘well endowed’ as his final trait, but decided against it, knowing that if he was going to have to envision that and everything that came with it- pun not intended?- there’d be no end to it. Pushing that thought right back to where it came from, he wrote down ‘Neat’ instead, folded the paper and filled his mind with thoughts of having a boyfriend who was organized, didn’t need to be badgered about doing chores, and dressed smartly.

Satisfied with his efforts, Rogue put that last piece of paper into the pouch and cupped it in his hands, closing his eyes as he ran through everything he’d written down in his mind until he once again felt that same stirring from earlier. Then he blew a kiss into the pouch and sealed it by pulling the drawstrings.

He placed it in front of the lit candle, and grabbing the knife again, carved the words’ future lover’ into the other candle before placing it back into its holder, next to the one with his name on it. He moved the red pouch in front of the still unlit candle, again focusing on everything he’d written down on the red pieces of paper, combining all twelve traits into one vision.

He lit the candle using the flame of the other and finished the spell, “We now share a light, a spark in the night that draws you to me. No harm will be done, so shall it be.”

Filled with faith that the spell had been put into motion, Rogue rose to his feet and broke the magic circle, releasing all the energy inside it into the world. In one of the cabinet drawers, he found a leather cord to tie around the pouch, and after he tied the ends into a small knot, he was able to wear it around his neck.

Now all that was left for him to do was put away the items he’d used, starting with blowing out the candles before any accidents could happen. The smoke that came off the wicks curled up into the air, filling his room with the unique scent that was one of his favorites, and still a bit moony-eyed from the spell, Rogue got so caught up with enjoying it that he’d forgotten to turn off the smoke alarm. The shrill beeps blared loudly through the house, making him scramble to grab it off the mounting bracket and remove the batteries.

He looked from the smoke alarm that was still busy singing the song of its people in his one hand, to the pair of AA batteries in his other, getting increasingly frustrated from not being able to hear his own thoughts over that most hated sound. But why was it still beeping? And better yet, why did it sound an awful lot like…

Rogue slowly opened his eyes, squinting and blinking to clear his blurry vision. He rolled over in his bed and swept aside the hair that hung in front of his face like a black curtain so he could find the off-button on his alarm clock and put an end to that atrocious sound. Off, not snooze like he usually did at least once before he’d get up, but he was currently too confused and disoriented to even consider trying.

He scratched his head as he looked around his room, at his window, his regular French door window that didn’t look anything like a moonroof. They didn’t even have an attic. There was no antique cabinet in the corner of his room, no coffee table that served as a magic altar. Just a bookcase and his guitar.

It had all been a dream.

0-0

October 3, 2012

Rogue padded to the kitchen to make his breakfast still caught up in his dream and how very real it had seemed. He could only imagine it had something to do with the conversation he’d had with Cana the previous night.

Cana had learned to read cards from her mother at a very young age, and after her mother had died, she had continued to learn all sorts of things that most would consider occult. Gildarts had always encouraged it, knowing that it helped her cope with her loss and trusted her to be smart enough not to muck with any dark stuff. Not that she ever would, especially now that she had a young daughter of her own.

When they were younger, both Rogue and his older brother Gray had listened in awe as she told them about some of the things she’d learned. It was all pretty fascinating in theory, although neither one of them had been interested enough to learn how to do it themselves, which was why that dream had been so surprising.

However, as obvious as he thought it was that Cana had inspired the whole thing about the spell, he knew that the idea behind it, the wish to find love, was all his own.

He certainly couldn’t deny that he was feeling pretty lonely these days.

When his parents had left, he’d had great hopes of spending long nights writing, working on new songs, or even catching up on his reading. And while all those things had definitely happened, there was one thing he hadn’t factored in.

The silence.

Before Gray had left for college, and his parents had moved to Alvarez, their house had always been busy. Gildarts and Cana could usually be counted on to be about as well, adding to the ever present noise. There had always been someone around to watch TV or play video games with.

Now there was nothing but a big empty house that Rogue was suddenly responsible for, and it was filled to the rafters with the silence his loved ones had left in their wake.

It was deafening, and no matter what he tried he could never seem to quiet it.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, he’d broken up with his boyfriend weeks earlier. Not that they’d been together very long, or that Rogue had any regrets about his decision, but at least spending time with Maru had offered a break from the monotony of his days.

His band Phantom Lord, of which Maru was the drummer, was the only real social interaction he had at the moment. Unless you counted the random hookups he’d tried at their last few gigs, drunk on cheap alcohol and the hope that a spark might ignite with one of these people that seemed so hungry for his attention.

Far from it, they usually left once they were done, content with having fooled around with someone in a band, but having no real interest in anything more. It was the same at the parties and clubs Rogue forced himself to attend, an effort to delay the inevitable return to his house.

Everyone was interested in his looks and the fact that he was a part of Phantom Lord, and although a good time could be had easily enough, any pleasure he felt was hollow at best.

He wanted someone he could connect with, who was interested in him because they found him appealing or had things in common.

He wanted, he noted wryly, someone just like that person he’d tried to spell into existence in his dream. A man who could vanquish his loneliness and make him feel something again.

But so far, that person didn’t seem to exist in Magnolia.

Rogue snapped out of his musings long enough to glance down at his phone and realize he would be late for class if he didn’t hurry. He wolfed down the toast and juice he’d put together and ran out the door, wearing his guitar on his back and dragging his backpack behind him.

He went from class to class, groaning at the ever growing number of assignments the professors dumped on them. Thankfully today was Wednesday, and he had band practice right after his last class. That thought alone cheered him up immensely.

He and Gajeel had been playing around with a new song, and Rogue had spent most of the previous night working on it, eager to make some progress that he could show his band members.

He all but counted the minutes until the end of his last class, impatiently collecting his stuff and jumping up from his seat as soon as it was dismissed. He’d made it all the way to his car when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He grabbed it, seeing it was a call from Gajeel.

“Hey, I’m on my way,” Rogue answered the phone, the device awkwardly pressed between his shoulder and his ear so he could put his guitar and backpack on the back seat, “Do you need me to pick up something?”

“Don’t bother, it’s a mess over here. There was a small fire earlier and they’re gonna have to close down for repairs for a week or two,” Gajeel sounded agitated and Rogue could hear the sound of sirens in the background. “I gotta go, I’ll text you when I figure out where we can practice in the meantime.

In his disappointment, Rogue almost suggested practicing in his garage, but the idea of having Maru at his house quickly decided him against it. “Oh. Okay. Well then, keep me posted, I guess?”

A grunt was all he got in reply before the line went dead.

Well, that’s just great, Rogue thought, his mood darkening at the idea of going back to his empty home already. Remembering all the work he needed to get done, he grabbed his backpack again but left the guitar, locking the car and turning around to head back towards the library. Might as well get some of it done.

It had been a while since he had set foot in the university’s library, and he was surprised to see just how crowded it was. Every table was occupied. Walking through the main room, he searched for an empty chair, keeping an eye open for anyone he recognized, on the off chance there might be an opening at their table.

As luck would have it, a table opened up just as he walked past it, and he immediately claimed it, setting his backpack on the floor next to him. Opening it, he pulled out the first thing he got his hands on without looking, dismayed to see that it was his biology textbook, the one class he hated with a passion.

Telling himself to just get it over with, he accepted his fate, grabbing his laptop to examine the worksheet the professor had assigned. It didn’t take long for his frustrations to build up, because the whole reason why he disliked biology so much was that he just couldn’t keep up. He had a great memory, which was the only reason why he wasn’t completely failing the class yet, but the fundamental principles of the science just went way beyond him. Maybe he should just do something else and hope Gajeel would be able to help him with this sometime, in the meantime, he could focus on a different subject.

Just as he leaned over to reach for another book, he heard a voice ask, “Hey, is this seat taken?”

Rogue gave a small jump, not expecting the interruption. When he looked up, he came face to face with a guy with blond hair, a smile like the ones you’d see in toothpaste commercials, and a pair of the bluest eyes Rogue had ever seen crinkling down at him in amusement. <br> <br> In the time it took Rogue to force his jaws back together and reply with a stupefied, “Oh, uhm, not at all,” the guy had already dropped his backpack on the table and sat down across from him. Rogue’s thoughts went back to his dream, and even though it was completely irrational, he couldn’t stop his hand from subtly patting his chest, searching for the pouch that he knew wouldn’t be there.

But when the guy flashed him another one of those smiles that were already making his heart race, he wondered if he’d somehow managed to cast that spell after all.

[disgraceddogstar]

Sirius Orion Black III

birthday: november 3rd house: gryffindor blood status: pureblood loyalty: order of the phoenix clubs: astronomy, astronomy homework, dueling zodiac: scorpio mbti: enfp-t (campaigner) alignment: chaotic good

✓ Humor ——- “Did you like question ten, Moony?”

He is barking laughter and poorly timed jokes, puns upon puns - seriously. A grin as wide as the day is long, carefree and easy. Light in the black of war; white sheep in the Black family. His good humor has covered him and carried him through all that he’s seen. It’s as much a shield for himself as it is those with whom he surrounds himself.

✓ Loyal  ——- “Died rather than betray your friends, as we would have done for you!”

He is fierce, heart full for those he holds dear. Not many are kept that close, but there is no hesitation when asked to give his life. Warmth and comfort, in the crook of his smile and the corners of his eyes. Brilliance and steadfast companionship: a dog is man’s best friend.

✓/✕  Strong-Minded | Judgemental ——- “Besides, the world isn’t split into good people and Death Eaters. We’ve all got both light and dark inside us.”

He is a tree rooted to the earth, tall and proud. Unmoving and firm against the hailing storm. Beliefs, unwavering, unwilling to hear. Opposition is wrong, and he knows it as well as he knows the stories written in the night sky. He is strong-willed and stubborn; a brick wall would be more receptive. He thinks himself open-minded, but it is only another belief.

✕ Impulsive ——- “What is life without a little risk?”

He is snap decisions made in the heat of the moment. Turbulent and emotional, judgement shifts as easily as debris caught in the tide. Words, biting, leaving scars as easily as laughter erases them from his mind. Passing thoughts in an endless stream of chaos - why waste time paying mind to outcomes when you can just act?

✕ Rebellious ——- “There are things worth dying for!”

He is 2 am, leather, and a mess of discarded liquor bottles scattered about the floor. Blood-kissed knuckles and knuckle-kissed jaw. Smirks and sighs toppling from carved lips. Caught in a tempest, winds whipping his hair about his face, unable to see, blindly stumbling along, deafening roars threaten to consume him - one foot in front of the other. Raw magic crackling in the air, electricity against your skin; a beautiful sight when it implodes.

headcanons: (tw: mania, depression, alcohol, slurs, mentions of dysphoria, mentions of abuse)

Patronus: It’s commonplace that a Patronus will match a witch or wizard’s Animagus form, if they happen to be such, and Sirius is no exception. His Patronus takes the form of a dog, matching that of his Animagus counterpart: a bear-like German Shepherd. German Shepherds are known for being intelligent, loyal, and fiercely over-protective. Any close friend of his would attest to the fact that Sirius exemplifies those qualities. He is a bright wizard, and he would do anything for those he cares about.

Wand: As badly as Sirius sometimes wishes his wand was made from Dogwood (think of the irony! the puns! the beauty of the universe!), he was chosen by a Cypress wood wand with a Dragon Heartstring core, 15 inches, rigid.

“Cypress wands are associated with nobility. The great medieval wandmaker, Geraint Ollivander, wrote that he was always honoured to match a cypress wand, for he knew he was meeting a witch or wizard who would die a heroic death. Fortunately, in these less blood-thirsty times, the possessors of cypress wands are rarely called upon to lay down their lives, though doubtless many of them would do so if required. Wands of cypress find their soul mates among the brave, the bold and the self-sacrificing: those who are unafraid to confront the shadows in their own and others’ natures.”

Sirius won’t think about the wandlore behind cypress wands and their masters dying a heroic death until the fleeting, infinite moment in which he begins to fall in the Department of Mysteries. He will think it ironic, then, that his death is hardly heroic at all; that, naturally, James and Lily had far more heroic deaths than him. (He will also think about finally, finally reuniting with them again, and he will think of how sorry he is for leaving Remus and Harry behind, but James, here I come.)

“As a rule, dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner. The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental.”

It is of interest to note that dragon wands tend to be easily swayed towards the Dark Arts. Sirius thinks it should be noted, and then he will tell it to fuck right off, thank you very much. He knows that, had things gone just a little differently, he wouldn’t have had any difficulty using Dark Magic; in fact, he’d have been rather adept at it. Sirius laughs at the notion - and would like to tell the Dark Lord that he can fuck right off, too.

Sirius is a very quick learner. He is intelligent and, when he puts his mind to a task, he is able to stay determined and focused. Magic runs strong in his veins, so it’s only natural he be paired with a wand that is able to keep up with him and his raw power. That being said, however, Sirius’ magic is - too often - unpredictable. It has been since he was a child, and he still experiences outbursts of unintentional magic when his emotions get the better of him; the dragon wand nurtures his accidental magic, at times.

    &--------Little Lion Man

He is named for the Dog Star, the most brilliant star in the sky, visible from anywhere on Earth - an actuality he embraces and carries with him from the moment he is able to understand its meaning. Ancient namings signify he is scorching, sparkling, bringing destruction and rebirth. He is important, and his name informs everyone of such.

But he is the point of Canis Major, a hunting dog, ever looking towards his master, Orion. Later, he would think it ironic that he was intended to obediently follow the hunter across the sky. When he was young, though, he did follow his father, his master, with wide eyes and a thirst to learn, to emulate. He did, after all, carry his father’s name as one of his own. He thought it only right that he be his hunter. He learned quickly enough to leave Orion Black be.

His name embraces the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black - a reality he despises when he is older. He is taught to believe that to be a Black, to be a Pureblood is to be royalty. He believes it.

He spends the majority of his childhood being trained to be the perfect Pureblood heir, to be the perfect Black. He attends many Pureblood-only balls and events, and is taught the proper way to mingle with other Purebloods. He learns manners and etiquette, and he is expected to be a proper child. There are never many other children at the balls, but he is reminded that it is improper to run about and make a fool of oneself like ordinary children; he is, after all, anything but ordinary.

How could he be? His name attests to his brilliance.

    &--------My Manic & I

Sirius is living with undiagnosed Bipolar 1 Disorder. It won’t ever be diagnosed or named in-game since they’re living in the 70s (it’s still fairly misunderstood now), but it definitely affects him. I feel like his upswings are pretty intense, and it usually results in him wanting to be out all the time and doing things, and he feels infallible and invincible, and he’s a lot more likely to be reckless (even more so than what is typical for him) and make snap decisions. He definitely has a tendency towards dangerous ideas that he thinks are absolutely brilliant (see: the Prank with Snape). On the other end of it, though, Sirius’ lows are very low, and he self-medicates with alcohol when he’s suffering from the worst of his depression (see: pretty much all of Order of the Phoenix). But I don’t think that Sirius recognizes the depression as such. It’s a lot easier for him to acknowledge when he’s feeling great and on top of the world as opposed to when he’s feeling like shit and struggles with getting out of bed in the morning. He’s a lot more likely to hide that side of himself, too, and play it off with a smirk and light-hearted joke at someone else’s expense. He became an expert at hiding his emotions at a young age, after all.

     &--------I Want to Break Free

If someone were to ask Sirius his gender and sexuality, he would quirk a brow and scoff and let out a bark of laughter because what sort of daft question is that? But, secretly. he enjoys the company of both men and women.

Sirius doesn’t remember the exact moment when he realized that he was attracted to men. Maybe it was sometime in his third year, when he had accompanied James to watch the Quidditch team practice. Maybe he had caught himself staring at one of the seventh years - a boy with shaggy brown hair and a strong jaw - as he flew around the Pitch. Maybe he had felt the distinct swoop in his stomach as he had watched, and maybe he had imagined what it would be like to kiss the older boy.

But Sirius only really remembers being too afraid to say anything to James, Remus, and Peter, being afraid that it would change everything and they would think him a freak that they didn’t want to be friends with, anymore. Especially after his “prank” on Snape in 5th year, Sirius doesn’t want to do anything that could again alienate him from his friends. They’re all he really has.

Something else he would never admit to is the many times he has passed frilly shop windows and imagined being able to wear whatever clothes he wants that he sees, or wished he could be as comfortable in his own skin as David Bowie, or Freddie Mercury. Sirius doesn’t always feel exactly right in the body he has, and he doesn’t understand it even a little bit. After all, it’s hard enough to deal with the war; he doesn’t want to even begin to focus on the whole gender bit.

In modern terminology, he would identify as gender-fluid demiromantic pansexual, but that’s too fancy and way ahead of his time, so all he knows is that he’s queer - just another way in which he would have disappointed his family.

     &--------The best thing that has ever happened:

“I know that you will make us proud, Sirius.”

No one ever expected Sirius to be a Gryffindor; he certainly hadn’t when he had stepped up to the stool to be sorted his first year at Hogwarts. His entire family had come from Slytherin. He even knew that, somewhere in his lineage, he was related to Salazar Slytherin himself. But as Sirius’ attention had drifted to the far table of green and silver, he had felt a tug in his stomach that he hadn’t really understood.

….“GRYFFINDOR!”

He ignored the shouts and jests coming from the Slytherin table to rightfully take his place amongst the lions of Hogwarts. He was joined, thankfully, by James and the redhead he had met with the greasy boy (he was grateful - and always would be - that the greasy one ended up in Slytherin).

It wasn’t before he was whisked away to his dorm and he got to know his fellow dormmates: one sickly-looking boy named Remus and a short, ordinary boy named Peter. Sirius thought he could do without Remus and Peter. Who needed them when he had James, his best friend? But Remus and Peter did prove themselves when they turned the greasy boy’s hair a bright shade of pink for a week. That, Sirius decided, was enough to earn his respect.

The four of them quickly became inseparable, and Sirius decided that being a Lion was worth the consequent Howlers he received, even if meant returning from the Christmas hols with bruises hidden beneath scratchy sweaters.

    &--------And the worst:  "Blood traitor! Filth! Scum!“

He tried not to cry out as his mother punished him one final time for being an insolent disgrace; he wouldn’t give her the pleasure. He was worse for the wear, however, when she finished with him and sent him off to think about his disobedience. Again. Sirius sat, on the edge of his bed, trembling; it was out of his control. He thought, but it didn’t take long for him to realize what he must do.

He needed to leave.

He hastily threw what belongings he could into his school trunk, gathering up anything he deemed important. He was able to perform a simple expansion and levitation charm - he decided he could deal with the Ministry later - and led his trunk out of his room. But he knew he needed to stop at his brother’s room before he left.

Sirius loved his brother and he has always loved his brother, but Regulus was not like him. He was weak-minded and bent to the wishes of their parents. Sirius always wanted to keep Regulus safe from them, from Mother, but he went to school and was sorted into Gryffindor and it changed. He became the disgrace, and it had been up to Regulus to be the perfect son. Sirius never wanted that for him, and he didn’t want that for him now. So he tried to bring Regulus with him. He wanted to ask, wanted him to leave and escape the hell they had grown up in.

But Regulus didn’t leave with him. He wasn’t like Sirius. He was an idiot, and he didn’t leave. So Sirius goes. But not before he watched as his mother blasted his name from the family tree.

(Sirius will always regret not making Regulus leave with him.)

[nixonkeller-blog]

━ did y'all see [Nixon ‘Nick’ Keller] walkin’ into [The Cuttery or Church?] they’ve lived in frostford for [22 years] and you can catch ‘em around town working as an [the town preacher/pastor & church worship band lead singer]. I reckon they’re pretty [outgoing & compassionate] but I hear they can also be kinda [lofty & closed off] if ya see ‘em around, be sure to say hi. ━  [TW: death, car accident, heart attack, faith, religion]

Hey! My name is Alex, and I’m thrilled to be here writing with you all. I’m still figuring out the footing for Nixon and where he sits in Frostford, but here are some of the basics I’ve sorted out. I’ll be adding more as I think of them. Also, he’s a lot more like Archie Andrews from Riverdale than I intended him to be... so let’s just disregard that, yeah? Perfect, haha.

GENERAL:

Nixon Keller was born August 12th to Joan and Nicholas Keller at the local hospital in Frostford.

He was born into a very religious family, and the Bible and its teachings were instilled in him from a young age as his father was the preacher in town. His mom is a part-time teacher, part-time homemaker. 

Being the eldest son of the couple, he was given a lot of responsibility at a young age. He was the built in baby sitter for his younger sister and helped out at church or the various events it would hold for as long as he can remember.

Believing in God was never a choice for him, it was something he was raised to do. Though, he didn’t find himself questioning it too much and thought most of what the Bible taught aligned with his own beliefs. More on that later.

He’s very musical, and was plunking out notes on his families grand piano ever since he could reach the keys. He loves to sing, and has quite a great voice. He also actively still plays piano, though he prefers guitar. His family luckily could afford music lessons and he picked up the notes quickly. He practiced religiously (pun intended) every day before and after school. He also writes songs.

He grew up singing in the church choir and playing in their worship band, eventually leading the band as lead singer and guitarist.

He is also a star football player and was the starting quarterback every year he played football, and was the captain of the football team. Or co-captains with Lucas, depending on the year.

His family is the epitome of ‘All American’. From a large, lavish house on a large acreage and apple orchard, his mom spent her days baking or tending to the garden. They had a few horses, chickens, but no pigs; because his mom didn’t like the mess they made.

He pulled his weight at home, too, often fixing things around the house, cutting the grass, picking apples, tending to the horses, etc.

He spends his life following in his father’s footsteps, and played football mostly to please him--though he grew to like it... but only enough to keep from quitting--and was naturally athletic due to being so strong from the physical labour at home. He was the star quarter back, class Valedictorian, and the resident Golden Boy. He’s also not easily missed due to his bright red hair and towering height.

He was offered a few full ride scholarships for football at varying colleges but turned them all down to marry Alexis and stay in Frostford.

As similar as he was to his father--outgoing, evangelical, empathetic, strong--the two butted heads constantly due to Nixon’s progressive thinking. He’s very inclusive of the LGBTQ+ community, etc. He believes that at its core, the bible is about love, and Jesus loved everyone. No exceptions.

His father is a bit more old-school, and while isn’t outwardly homophobic... is a bit problematic in his thinking and Nixon does his best to help encourage change in that area.

His mom is more like Nixon, tender, loving, and sweet. She also believes that the bible only preaches love and has often welcomed sick animals or wandering souls into the families guest house when they needed some TLC.

The relationship with his father grew more strained as his dad wanted Nixon to take over his rank at the church, whereas Nixon wanted to move out of town eventually to pursue a music and football career and live on his own terms. It was a point of contention and they were often yelling at each other about it, ruining more than one family dinner with their arguments.

Nixon was hoping his father would come around when tragedy struck. While driving home from a meeting at the church, his father suffered a ‘widow maker’ heart attack and his car flipped into a ditch. He died on scene and Nixon is still coming to terms and dealing with the loss.

Because it was his father’s wish for Nixon to take over as the pastor, Nixon rose to the challenge after his father’s passing, putting his music and football career on hold.

He’s loving, compassionate, but also conceited, cocky, and often puts himself as a pedestal because of the privileged life he has led. Though, at his core, he’s a good person who would give you the shirt off his back.

He’s hoping his new role at the church will invite marginalized members of the community to come to Sunday service because when you’re at Nixon’s church, you’re family, and everyone is welcome.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Being a classic southern, religious boy, Nixon was taught all about abstinence and to be wary about women. His father and mother were High School sweethearts and they prayed that Nixon would be just as lucky to find someone so soon.

His parents prayers were answered in the form of Alexis, one of Nixon’s childhood and family friends from when he was younger. His family met hers when they were nine years old and as each family shared a strong faith, they became close family friends, spending every Sunday together after church. They also went on numerous fishing and camping trips together.

Nixon always had a soft spot for Alexis but never thought she’d feel the same way about him, so he kept it to himself. That is, until he heard a fellow football player talk about asking Alexis on a date. He knew deep down that it was now or never and that being rejected wouldn’t hurt as bad as never trying.

So one day after school in Sophomore year, he went over to her house with a bouquet of her favour flavours and asked her on a date, confessing his long bottled up feelings on her front porch. They have been together ever since.

His parents are thrilled that they ended up together, as they both share a strong faith, and love of the town.

Nixon was the school’s star Quarterback and football captain, and Alexis was the head cheerleader, so they were a match made in heaven for many reasons.

Nixon proposed to her on her 18th birthday and they were married shortly after.

He’s been by her side through everything in life and she is his best friend and the love of his life. He never believed in soulmates until he met Alexis, but he’s thankful to have an incredible love story with her.

Alexis is the only woman Nixon has ever dated or been with.

He’s thrilled to be a father but he’s also scared shitless.

FRIENDSHIPS:

Fletcher and Lucas are Nixon’s best friends. While the two boys couldn’t be more different from each other, they both balance Nixon out well.

Lucas and Nixon met the first year Nixon played high school football and got along swimmingly well. They’re very similar people and we co-captains of the football team until Lucas graduated and Nixon took over for his last year of high school.

Nixon stood by Lucas’ side through everything he went through with his varying girlfriends, injuries, and college football. And while he supports and loves him through and through, there is an aspect of jealousy that Nixon never got to go play college football because he settled in Frostford.

Fletcher is more reserved than Nixon, but he prides himself on being able to get Fletch out of his comfort zone and brought him along to any party or social event he was going to in High School. He knows Fletcher has a heart of gold and the two have a very special bond. (It’s just really pure ok)

I’ll be adding more to this as I think of them, but these are the basics for now! As always, hit me up for connections and plots. :)

[vanilla-blessing]

Why you should check out Pastel Memories

There’s a lot of more or less “fine” anime that come out in any given season, which can generate their own microbiomes of activity and medium-grade excitement before fizzling out and being forgotten within weeks, leaving no trace or footprint except for angry anime youtubers’ reactions. Sometimes these average shows have a couple highlights indicating a personal meltdown from someone, somewhere, from total apathy with the industry that lead to the project at all, to complete and total production carnage like the recently reanimated Mærchæn Mædchæn. It takes a colossally bad idea, something that was made too sincerely to be a joke, something that never gives up despite being embarrassingly inept, to be truly memorable as a bad anime. If you enjoy subjecting yourself to the classics of hilarious trash like Garzey’s Wing, Gundoh Musashi, or Twinkle Nora Rock Me, you maybe owe it to yourself to check out Pastel Memories. 

Pasted Melodies is presumably about a manga cafe staffed by too many girls who all have huge knockers and weird hair but also there’s a twist, all otaku media is being obliterated by a metaphysical virus, so the waitresses of the cafe have to follow the orders of a floating screw rabbit and transform into steampunk magical girls to correct the discrete worlds of otaku media by defeating monsters. If this sounds like a mobile game that’s because it is. The anime version uses this as an excuse to steal copy parody other, better anime who are coincidentally mostly shows the studio did a few years ago or are sufficiently vague enough to count as public domain. You can tell which ones weren’t legally distinct enough because they were removed from streaming services and other releases. 

Pallid Memorial is not very subtle or clever and neither is any “reference” in any other episode. From the nixed 2nd episode on everything in motion looks consistently like it belongs in the dump and never improves. There’s a single episode, when they try to rip off all shonen fighting series at once, where all the stars align and the intended comedy is, for a brief moment, recognizable as comedy. Unfortunately the most common premises for episodes to borrow from are weird pedo-adjacent age gap sports anime (you know the kind) because that’s apparently all this studio has ever made. 

The bottom line of Pastorale Mtriangle is that it’s an extraordinarily ambitious passion project from a studio that very obviously bit off more than they could chew, but they absolutely try, and the result is a disgusting mess. Disgusting is also the only word that fully describes the well-animated, incredibly NSFW ending theme which I won’t link here just google it if you have to. Given how Prussian Mountains can barely come across as intended to be horny 90% of the time, the end of every episode that featured this ninety seconds of softcore porn was shocking from the sheer contrast in art. 

Some episodes of Paper Marios are indefensible, and the translation is one of the worst jobs I’ve ever seen in professional subbing, minus whoever okayed the cat puns you’re a saint, but you really just don’t see trainwrecks of this scale and length happen without anyone stopping them anymore. There’s a real sincerity that contrasts the Actual legal infringement derivative nature of Pants Mozzarella, and its freaking bizarre in a way that should be checked out by a certain kind of selective anime fan. 

- qb i only watched this because it was hidive exclusive @queuebae on twitter

You have been visited by the busty cat of good fortune. High profits and bad anime will be yours but only if you reply to this post with "It's a great remembrance!"

[let-it-raines]

Second in Command: Ch. 7

Summary: Life as the "spare to the heir" isn't all that it's cracked up to be when you're the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don't know what really happens behind closed doors.

Rating: M

A/N: If anyone isn’t a big Halloween movie watcher, you can find the clip of a line Emma says here. I also highly recommend the movie. It’s a personal favorite. 

And as always, this chapter and the rest of the story can be found on ao3

|  here  |

The world has known about Emma for three months now, summer slowly drifting into autumn. The longer the month of September goes on, the more the heat begins to subside and the leaves begin to prematurely fall to the ground, a myriad of colors scattering the sidewalks.

 Autumn has always been his favorite season. The humidity seems to fade away, and the streets tend to smell less like hoards of sweaty, hurried people and more like the occasional clear air that will waft through England when the stars align to create a day where the air is neither filled with smoke nor rain. September is a fine month, his birthday always falling toward the tail end of it, but he tends to favor October.

It’s a month most people pass by without much thought, directly between the thrill of summer vacation and the merriness of the winter holiday season, but to some, often those with small children or adults who have a sense of imagination and adventure (and often those wanting the opportunity to imbibe in a few libations), it’s the month that marks its end with ghouls and goblins and witches oh my.

 He’s never been one to celebrate Halloween as an adult. He’d been to one or two parties while at university, sure, always throwing together a last minute costume that more often than not resulted in him throwing on a tux that he already owned and going as James Bond. If he got really creative, he’d shave his beard, throw on a pair of spectacles and go as Clark Kent.

 So he likes Halloween, enjoys the sweets and the horror films and the way the store fronts fill their windows with intricately carved pumpkins, yellow candles flickering inside as the sun sets into darkness.

 He likes it, but Emma loves it. She loves everything about it. As soon as the calendar flips from September to October, she pulls a chest out from under her bed that’s full of DVDs (We can just watching them online, darling, he’ll say. It’s not the same, she’ll say) to watch at least one a day until the clock strikes midnight on Halloween and the pumpkins turn into Christmas trees (or turkeys for those living in America). In her closet there’s a box of every Halloween costume she’s ever worn that somehow managed to make the trip from America to London.

 He once found a princess costume that was made for a girl no older than five, and when he teased her about how she’s obviously had a thing for him for her entire life, she told him that it was really Liam she had a thing for, her lips curling up into a smirk as mirth danced in her eyes. He was left speechless holding a sparkly blue dress as he watched her proudly bask in the glory of her joke. Later she told him, whispered in the darkness of her room after she had physically reaffirmed that he was the only man for her, that she could have dressed as a princess every day of her life and still never have been prepared for him and every way he’s surpassed any dream she ever had of a prince sweeping her off her feet just by being Killian.

 He could have never prepared for her.

 Emma carves pumpkins and buys candy ahead of time only to eat it all and have to purchase more before the holiday passes (and then buying the discount candy on November first so that she has enough to last her until the Valentine’s Day sales). She researches ghost stories online and then retells them with the enthusiasm of someone who likes being scared shitless at the possibility that the dead haunt her movements.

 So his girlfriend loves Halloween, and he knew that going into their relationship, part of the basic getting to know you process that happened over late nights and glasses of rum she eventually didn’t charge him for. However, he didn’t get to experience Halloween with her until they’d been dating for over two years. The first year he’d had to miss it because he rearranged his schedule so that he’d be around for her twenty-first birthday the week before. She’d told him she loved him for the first time that night, and he would trade all of his Halloweens for the rest of his life just to keep that day the same. The next year he’d been on his two-month North American tour that had resulted in them not speaking for a few weeks, so he hadn’t even gotten to listen to her enthusiasm about the holiday (She was a bar wench he later found out. An appropriate costume that ended up looking very inappropriate on her).

 When he realizes that he can finally celebrate with her on his third try, the smile that crosses his face may rival Emma’s when she’s watching Hocus Pocus.

 “So you’re sure about this?” she questions as she pushes her box of movies back underneath her bed, settling on the creepy and the kooky Addams Family.

 They both had the day off, and Emma had begged, not that she needed to, for the two of them to spend the day watching movies and eating candy out the bowl she’d already depleted at least once – he would know, he had to stop and buy her a mixed bag of candy on his way here. If she pulled a pumpkin primed for carving out of her closet, no part of him would be surprised.

 “I am positive,” he tells her as she crawls into bed next him, moving his arm so that it wraps around her shoulder, his fingers instinctively going to find the skin just below her shirt. “I have purposely arranged my entire autumn schedule so that I will be free to spend Halloween night with you.”

 “You know what this means, though, right?”

 “That I’m going to have to schedule an extra dental appointment because you’re going to force feed me candy until my teeth rot?”

 “I mean, obviously,” she teases, kissing the underside of his jaw from her vantage point below him. “But it means you have to wear a costume. Like, a real costume that you buy ahead of time because we have a costume party every year downstairs. And, like, not to be like the clichés of all the movies about royalty going out into disguise on Halloween, but if you could wear something that partially covers your face or alters your identity, that would be great because then I can kiss you downstairs and no one will even question it.”

 “Are there really movies like that?”

 “You have no idea.” She kisses his jaw again, the sensation running all the way through him. He is so crazy in love with her that sometimes he doesn’t know what to do with himself.  “One day I’m going to teach you about all of the clichés that you fall under.”

 He can’t help but laugh, pulling her closer to his side as the theme of The Addams Family finally begins to play on the television. They spend the rest of their day watching movies that have him ranging from laughing to sweating to being incredibly turned on. He eats more kit kat bars than he’s proud to admit, his stomach rounding where it’s usually more defined, and by the time he’s leaving to make his way home, he feels more like one of those pumpkins he thinks Emma has hidden in her closet than anything else.

 Emma’s just kissed him goodbye, a little more enthusiasm than usual, when he realizes something he missed out on earlier.

 “Wait,” he pulls back from her lips to look her in the eyes, “if I’m dressing up, that means you’re dressing up. What the devil are you wearing?”

 “Be patient,” she begins, lifting up on her toes to give him another kiss, slow and sensual and something he very much wants to continue, before pushing him out the door, “because that is a surprise that you’re just going have to show up to see. It’s kooky.”

 Damn. That’s something he can’t wait to see.

 Finding a costume that won’t make him feel ridiculous ends up being more difficult than he thinks. He considers several that require him to wear a mask that completely covers his face, but those seem to be farcical more than anything else. He thinks of going as a pirate, but that just didn’t seem to call to him, the leather and eyeliner unappealing. When he comes across an entire section that’s full of prince costumes, one even entitled Prince Killian, he almost buys it just for the look on Emma’s face. Eventually after all of the sailors and clowns and police officers are eliminated, and he settles on being Tom Cruise in Top Gun. It’s a happy medium between what he’s comfortable with and what really getting into the spirit (pun intended) of Halloween means. Plus, he can mostly be himself with dark shades used to cover his eyes. It’s surprising how many people don’t recognize him simply because he has on a pair on sunglasses.

 It’s Halloween, and Emma’s been suspiciously silent, only texting him short little nothings when he texts her first. It’s not totally abnormal, but for this to be one of her favorite days of the year, she doesn’t seem to be too excited. It unnerves him, and even though he was supposed to wait until the pub’s patrons are pleasantly buzzed, he ends up sauntering through the door at a quarter after ten to find Mary Margaret and David, dressed as a cat and a dog in the way that only two people in their late forties can, but with no sign of Emma anywhere.

 The place is unusually busy, the younger patrons outweighing the older crowd that usually frequents the place, making the space feel smaller than usual. It doesn’t help that the Nolans have stretched fake cobweb across the pillars and between booths, causing people to duck around them if they don’t want to end up with whatever artificial material is used to make the decorations. On all of the tables are carved pumpkins he knows the three of them worked on two days ago. He spies the one he did a week ago, crooked smile from where the knife slipped in his hand. It’s on the table of the booth in the back – their booth, he likes to think, the one where they met – and he can’t help but think that Emma Nolan can be sentimental sometimes, too.

 Right now, though, he’d really like to find Emma Nolan and whatever costume she’s hidden from him.

 It’s then that he sees her, short black dress with a white peter pan collar, the sexiest thigh high boots he’s ever seen, and a black wig parted down the middle into two braids, her lips painted in a black lipstick the he imagines she won’t let him kiss her with. She’s Wednesday Addams. She gave him a clue by the movie they watched last time he was here, and no part of him even thought about it. He spent a hell of a lot of time thinking about it. Of course, knowing her, she very well could have come up with her costume idea while they were watching the movie.

 He makes his way over to where she’s refilling a few glasses of ale, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him so that he can kiss her cheek and squeeze her hip just because he can.

 “Where’s your costume, darling?” he teases when he pulls back from her skin, knowing exactly what her answer is going to be, the Halloween-loving woman.

 He can tell she has to hold back a smile before she deadpans, “this is my costume. I’m a homicidal maniac. They look just like everyone else.”

 She delivers the line exactly as she should, identical to Wednesday Addams, not even throwing him a wink like she so often will when she tells a joke, the lines on her face as straight and narrow as possible.

 It’s only when she seems to take his costume in, her eyes perusing the jumpsuit and the dark aviator sunglasses in a way that makes him feel like there’s no air circulation in the pub. He tries to reign in his nerves, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “Do you like it?”

 Emma pulls back so that he can see her, the corner of her lips lifting up on one side. “Eh, I prefer how Maverick looks on the beach, but this’ll do.” And then she’s walking away, flipping the pigtails of her wig behind her, finally giving him the wink he expected earlier. The little minx.

 It ends up being such a busy night that he doesn’t get to see much of Emma. She’s always refilling drinks or wiping down tables when people leave. He doesn’t mind, though. Just watching her, he can see that she’s having a blast with all of the people who dressed up tonight. When a group of girls all dressed as the Addams Family women walk in, Emma practically squeals, a very un-Wednesday like thing to do.

She convinces them to take a picture with her, telling them that it’s going to go up on the wall where her family keeps pictures of big events that happen here.

 Seeing her this happy keeps a smile on his face throughout the night, even when he’s had one too may rums and realizes he has to take off the jumpsuit to relieve himself. It’s annoying and inconvenient, and when he comes out of the restroom cursing under his breath about bloody fucking Halloween (though no blood was involved in this Halloween), it’s to Emma leaning against the wall with her arms crossed waiting on him, right eyebrow perched high on her forehead.

 “You know, Nolan, that’s a little creepy you waiting out here for me.”

 “I wanted to get another picture of us to put up on the wall.”

 “Won’t that be suspicious?”

 “Nah, I’m just going to say it was a really hot guy who came by on Halloween, and I needed an excuse to get close to him. Who knows? Maybe later I’ll even get his number.”

 She’s…happy. She’s happy and flirtatious, two things he’s seen her be so many times before, but it’s like it’s contagious tonight, a disease which he’d very much like to catch.

 So they take the picture for her to hang up on the wall. He’s smiling in it, wide toothy grin as he wraps his arms around her shoulder. She’s not smiling. Instead, her body is stiff and her hands are placed at her sides, unhappy look on her face that has him in stitches when he looks at it later. It’s a picture he’d like to keep just for the look on Emma’s face.

 His favorite picture of the night, though, happens later when everything is closed down, and he’s starting to get tired, the only thing keeping him awake is the way that Emma’s mouth is moving against his, lazy and sloppy but all together delicious. He thinks that they’re on their way to other activities, his jumpsuit suddenly even more restricting, but then Emma starts hysterically laughing, tears rolling down her eyes as her hair, wig removed, falls in her face.

 It’s not often that a woman laughs at how he kisses, so he can’t help but feel a tad bit insulted.

 “Emma, love, what the bloody hell are you laughing at?”

 She just leans over to her bedside table to grab her phone, snapping a picture of him without him knowing what’s happening.

 “What are you doing? Why are you taking a picture of me?”

 “Just hold on a minute, and I’ll tell you.”

 It’s then that she twists in his lap so that she can take a picture of the two of them together, her head leaning on his shoulder. He thinks that maybe she just felt the overwhelming need to document the night, but then she’s thrusting her phone in his face and he sees why she’s laughing.

 It’s a wonderful picture of the two of them. They look happy and vibrant despite the late hour. It would be just like every other photograph except for the fact that the black lipstick she had on with her costume is now smeared all over his lips and his chin, even a bit of his nose. He looks bloody ridiculous, and when he looks over to Emma she’s covering her mouth to hide her laugh.

 “That’s really not your color, babe.”

 It’s a night that he remembers fondly, the picture saved on his phone and the lipstick tube tucked away in a box of things that he’s collected from Emma over the years.

 It’s not yet October, though, and Killian knows that a Halloween like that will most likely be a thing of the past for the two of them. They’ll have different kinds of holiday celebrations now, and while that does make him feel a tinge of longing for the ways of the past, he’s excited for the future.

Killian turns twenty-nine this week, and he’s having a quiet – by his family’s standards – celebration with just his family – his entire family, extending beyond just the immediate – as well as Emma and her parents. It is a bit of a combination event, both a celebration of his birth and an introduction of his girlfriend to the extended family she hasn’t met and vice versa, an introduction of her small family to the largeness of his.

 “Are you nervous?” Killian questions, moving to zip Emma’s dress, one hand caressing her hip as the other guides the zipper up its path.

 “Honestly,” she sighs out as she moves her hair off of her back and over one shoulder, exposing her neck to him, which he gives a soft kiss to when he finishes zipping her into the dress. It’s this little black thing she got from Abigail that’s long enough to be acceptable in the new dress code she’s trying to adhere to when she goes places with him that are a step up from the supermarket, but it still shows off all of her glorious curves. She looks beautiful, radiant even, and it doesn’t matter that he’s the slightest bit biased. “I don’t think I can really be nervous around your family anymore. It’s more this feeling I can’t describe, kind of like I’m walking on eggshells but only sometimes, I guess. It’s fine tonight, though, babe. It’s your night. I think I’ve officially grown a tough skin. I’m immune to all of the new bites from the Windsor clan.”

 She’s ghosting over things, he can tell. He caught some of the flashing “it’s fine” signs in her little spiel, but he goes against his better judgment and ignores it for tonight. He ignores his own signs, too.

 “They’re not piranhas, love.”

 “No,” she says, turning around and placing her hands on his shoulders, straightening his shirt collar, “they’re not. I’ve already faced those.”

 “And you did it swimmingly.” He leans down to quickly meet her lips with his.

 “Was that a pun?”

 “Always. I’m just naturally witty like that.”

 “I think you’re fishing for compliments.”

 He laughs, leaning down again to peck her cheek so as to not mess up her lipstick anymore. “You, my love, are the only fish in the sea for me.”

 “Okay, I’m done with the bad puns. We’ve got a party to go to, old man.”

 “What a kind, loving birthday wish from my girlfriend.”

 “That’s what I’m here for, babe.”

 And at that she walks away, hips swaying enticingly in that little black dress. When she gets to the doorway, she turns her head and fucking winks at him, and he’s got to make it through the entire night with her looking like that.

 He catches up to her, jogging just a little down the hallway as they walk to his car on their way to Windsor Palace. It’s where his parents have been staying recently, as it’s much more low key than the busyness of London, even if it’s a bit of a drive from Kensington.

 When they get there, it’s still about an hour before most of his family is supposed to arrive, but he wanted to spend some time with just his parents and Emma’s parents before all of the others arrive. The Nolans met his family two weeks ago, and they’ve all gotten on surprisingly well despite the rocky start this whole thing had. It probably helps that he and Emma decided to keep some of the nastier details of her introduction to his family to themselves.

 Mary Margaret and Allison have become fast friends and have discovered that they share many of the same interests, having even gone to a few of the same schools growing up, though Killian’s mother is several years older than Mary Margaret. David and Brennan get on fine. They don’t have a lot in common, but they don’t have to. As long as they have Killian and Emma in common, they’ll always have things to talk about.

 Emma’s never been to Windsor before, so he decides to giver her a small tour before joining his family in one of the dining halls. She did tell him the first time he brought her home that she’s fascinated by being able to see buildings she studied in primary school in real life. She’s brilliant, his love, with a mind most people can only hope to have half of, and though he knows that she’s happy with her decision not to attend university in exchange for helping her parents, he finds himself wondering what it would be like for her to take history classes. Would her face light up as she delved into research for papers? Would she hate having to stick her nose in a book to learn about history instead of getting to explore it for herself?

 They’ve broached the subject, her going back to school before, but she always says that she’s happy. She likes her job, and she likes spending time with her parents and her regular patrons. So he doesn’t push it. He doesn’t need her to have a degree. He has one in Philosophy that he’s never once used before. He just wants to make sure that if she has the opportunity to do something she wants to do, she can.

 “Babe,” she calls out from her spot a few feet ahead of him, and he already knows what she’s looking at before he catches up to her. “How old are you here?”

 She’s staring at a portrait that’s far too large, something he protested with his mum for what felt like hours on end, and he can tell she wants to reach out and touch it, run her fingers along the lines of his face.

 “I was fourteen, and before you say anything else, yes, I had to pose for it. It was bloody awful.”

 “Can we get one of these at our house?”

 She’s teasing him, playful smile on her lips, but all he can focus on is that she just said “our house.” They’ve been living together for a few weeks now. He’s sure she’s said something similar before, but it hasn’t hit him until then.

 “Hey,” she says when he doesn’t speak for a moment too long, turning to caress his cheek, her face level to his with the heels she has on, “I was just teasing. I think this is amazing. I love getting to see more of you when you were young.”

 Killian moves to wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her into his side so that he can rest the side of his forehead against the top of her head. “Aye, I know. We can have anything you want, Emma.”

 She tilts her head back as much as she can, his grip on her waist more snug than usual. “Are you okay?”

 “I’m fine, my love. I was just thinking about how if we get one of these for home, we also have to hang up that photograph of you from the time you dyed your hair brown and it ended up as some kind of purple.”

 She scrunches her nose, mouth twisting in disgust. “Mom never should have documented some things. But fine. No giant portrait of teenage Killian. Though, I thought it might look really good over the bed.”

 He can’t help put laugh, kissing the crown of her head before releasing her from his side and grabbing her hand so that they can finish their tour and show up to the dinner.

 When they walk in the door to the dining hall, they don’t even have a chance to breathe before they’re ambushed.

 “Mummy,” Alex squeals, squirming away from where he was sitting with Abigail and Liam on a couch so that he can make his way over to them, pointing at Emma as he waddles over to them, “it’s Emmy.”

 Emma just hurries her steps up, swooping Alex up into her arms and covering his face in kisses, leaving red marks from her lipstick all over him that he always finds hilarious when he looks into a mirror later (Killian likes to think he wears Emma’s lipstick marks better than Alexander, but who is he to compare himself to a toddler?). She’s his new best friend, and Killian’s not saying that he’s upset that a soon-to-be-two-year-old is ignoring him for his girlfriend, but he’s worked hard for that favorite relative position just to be usurped by Emma in a matter of months.

 Forget all of the murders and strategic arranged marriages of the past for people trying to overtake the thrown. Emma usurping Killian as Alex’s favorite person outside of his parents is the real royal scandal.

 “Emmy,” Alex giggles, squirming in her arms as she’s moved on from kissing him to tickling his stomach. “Mummy has baby in belly.”

 “Really?” Emma gasps, over-exaggerated voice that she’ll use sometimes when talking to him. “Mommy has a baby in her belly! That’s so exciting, Alex! Are you excited to have a new brother or sister?”

 “Yay, baby,” Alex shrieks, raising his hands in the air and clapping, something his parents have obviously taught him to do with the mention of the new baby.

 “Yay baby, indeed,” Abigail says, walking over to Killian, Emma, and her son, slight but obvious stomach reaching them before she does.

 “Alex, darling,” Abigail coos, reaching to take him from Emma and transfer him to Killian, “what did daddy teach you to say to Uncle Killian today?”

 Alex just stares at Abigail, like he has no idea what she’s talking about, his little face all scrunched up in confusion as he thinks.

 “Does Happy Birthday ring a bell, Alexander?” Liam asks, making his way over to them from his spot on the sofa, clapping Killian on the back and resting his hand there. Killian’s flinch is barely noticeable.

 The two of them are not best mates or anything now, as that would be hoping for miracles in a land where those are scarce, but there’s definitely less hostility between the two brothers – at least, on the surface. Killian knows that on top of the talks (talks, yelling matches, hushed conversations with Emma and Abigail in the other room) the two of them have had over the past few weeks, their father also sat down with Liam and talked about some of the changes they’re making and how they’re attempting to be more of a family in private, rather than just being kind in public. Killian hopes that with some work, it’ll be something that actually works out. He hopes that he can have the heart to let it work out because his feelings on the situation are about as messy and as convoluted as one’s thoughts can become.

 Emma still tenses when Liam’s near, however, and obviously he does as well. She doesn’t make it obvious, but he can see how she squares her shoulders the slightest bit, the way her smile fades at the corners. He can’t blame her. He does the same. But the sacrifices she’s making for him are evident in the way her smile fades from brilliant to polite.

 Alex gets it now, eyes lighting up as he stares at Killian. “Happy Birfday!” he shouts, just a little too loud, but it’s cute and he truly appreciates the fact that Liam took the time to teach Alex how to wish him happy birthday.

 Everyone in the room bursts into laughs, clapping for Alex and he just grins, showing off his little toddler teeth in pride.

 “Happy birthday, brother,” Liam wishes, clapping Killian on the back again, and this feels like the most normal interaction they’ve had in years. “You’re getting on up there in the years.”

 “Says the man who’s closer to forty than thirty now.”

 “Daddy old,” Alex adds in, and Emma lets out a series of loud giggles, having to cover her mouth with her hands to contain her laughter. Killian raises his eyebrow at her, silently asking now where did the little lad learn that? She just shrugs her shoulders, mouthing it wasn’t me at him.

 After all of the happy birthdays are exchanged and Killian’s aunts and uncles and cousins (and second cousins and third cousins he’s not really sure he’s related to) show up at the allotted time, they have dinner, table full of conversation and laughter. He’s not quite sure when the last time he felt this comfortable at a family event was. Maybe he’s never felt this comfortable – and comfortable may be the wrong word, but he’s not dreading every move his family makes, knowing that they’re on their best behavior. But he just looks over at Emma next to him, hands wildly moving around as she tells a story to his aunt Carolyn about what it was like to grow up in America, and he can’t help the grin that blooms on his face. It won’t always be like this, but at least he has tonight to push down all of the dark thoughts that threaten to emerge.

 It’s then that his father stands from his seat at the head of the table, wine glass in hand.

 “Good evening, everyone,” Brennan greets, his lips forming a small smile. “Allison and I would just like to thank everyone for making the trip up here. I know it’s a little too rural for some of you.” The room laughs at that, and Emma turns to him to mouth how in the hell anyone could consider this rural. “But nevertheless, I’d like to make a birthday toast to my youngest, Allison’s baby as she still calls him despite Killian’s protests. Killian, my boy, you’re twenty-nine now. At your age I was this unrefined, unmarried man whose mother had to remind him to get his clothes washed before he went on to an event as a representation for Britain. You, on the other hand, are this intelligent, well-composed, brave young man who understands more about life and love than I think I ever have. To see you come into your own, find a love of your own, especially in the last few months, brings me a joy that I didn’t know was possible. So may you continue to be as happy and as vibrant as you are tonight for the rest of your days! Happy birthday, Killian!”

 The room echoes with happy birthday, Killian, smiles gracing the faces of people who usually look so stern when all gathered together. His parents are beaming at him, Brennan kissing Allison’s cheek as she wipes away a tear that’s fallen to her cheek.

 “Happy birthday, Killian,” Mary Margaret echoes, reaching over Emma to pat his arm. “Now not to be nosy, but has Emma given you her gift yet?”

 “Mom,” Emma hisses, lightly smacking Mary Margaret’s arm, her lips slightly parted in surprise.

 “What? I wanted to know if he liked it!”

 “I wasn’t going to give it to him until later.”

 Emma looks so frustrated with her mother, like Mary Margaret actually gave away whatever this secret present is. She didn’t, and while he’s bloody curious, he can wait until later since Emma obviously wants to give it to him alone.

 “Oh,” Mary Margaret squeaks, placing her hands on her lap as David tries to hide his laughter next to them. “Well you’ll have to call me and tell me in the morning.”

 Emma leans her head to her left so that she can rest it on her mother’s shoulder, the two women interlacing their fingers. “I will, Mom. I promise.”

 The rest of their time there goes well, everyone in that blissful state of being just buzzed enough to let their inhibitions down. He and Emma somehow get roped into having dinner with his parents next week, and Emma’s grip on his hand tightens the slightest bit. The four of them have been trying to spend more time together, them getting to know Emma for the first time and Killian for the second time around – possibly the first if he truly considers it. Despite that, or possibly because of it, Emma’s still tense around them, for more reasons than one. But she handles it as best as she can, and he couldn’t be more proud. She handles it with more grace than he ever has.

 Later that night he’s lying in bed, reading his book like the old man he now is, and Emma saunters out of the bathroom, clad in nothing but the lacy black bra and underwear she had on under her dress. He doesn’t pay her much attention, trying to finish the chapter he’s on, but then she’s crawling over the covers and onto his lap, knees on either side of his thighs.

 “Babe?” she prods, nestling further into his lap, and honestly it’s killing him not to buck his hips up into hers, the early friction already enough to send a buzz down his spine. But this is the path he’s chosen to go on tonight for some insane reason. The old age must be making him delusional.

 “Mhmm,” he answers back, flipping his page.

 She starts kissing the side of his neck, working at the skin between his neck and his collarbone, worrying a faint bruise there that won’t show in the suit he has to wear at his events tomorrow. Crafty lass she is.

 He’s got no idea what’s going on in his book anymore. It’s like he’s never read before in his life, pleasure coursing through his veins distracting him. She’s working her way back up his throat, slowly running her tongue across his jaw before she starts nibbling on his ear. He’s just about to give in, to pull her lips to his and her body so close they’re basically one, when she pulls back, propping her hands up on his shoulders and adjusting herself so that her hips are no longer aligned with his.

 He could groan at the lack of contact. He does groan at the lack of contact.

 “What are you doing, love?”

 “Well I was trying to seduce you for your birthday.”

 “Is this my present?” he questions, fingering the cup of her bra, lifting it so that the top of her nipple is exposed as his other hand runs down her side, cupping her waist. “As much as I appreciate this, and I do plan on appreciating it later, I can’t help but think that this is quite the odd present to have told your mum about. And for her to be excited about it on top of that. I didn’t know you shared about our sex life with your mother.”

 Her face twists, lips pursing into a scowl. “The only person who gets details on our sex life is you, despite Ruby’s protests now that she knows about you. And this is definitely part of your present, but I do have something else if you want it.”

 “Of course I do, darling.”

 “Okay,” Emma tells him, extracting herself from his lap and making her way to the closet. The cut of her panties makes her ass look particularly firm, and he’s really beginning to regret not immediately devouring her when she came out of the bathroom.

 She’s wrapped herself in her dressing gown by the time she comes out of the closet (he has to hold back a groan at that because damn) holding two wrapped presents that have bows that he’s come to know as Mary Margaret’s specialty.

 “So Mom doesn’t know about the first gift,” she motions between the two of them before settling beside him on the bed, her feet tucked under her as she faces him, “but she did help me pick out this other stuff. I know we go over this every time we have a holiday or anniversary or whatever, so you know the drill. It’s not super expensive or nice or –”

 “Hey,” Killian reaches forward to press his thumb against her chin, running it back and forth as he smiles down at her, “and you know that I don’t care about any of that stuff. We do the same routine every year. I think we should probably stop doing it.”

 She leans down to kiss his thumb, nuzzling the finger further into the dent of her chin as her eyes flutter shut.

 He loves her so much it’s ridiculous.

 Emma hands him the larger package. It’s light to the touch, and he puts it next to his ear, shaking it slightly to see if it makes a sound. His father used to do that to presents when Killian was younger, and it’s one of his traits that he got from his father without ever realizing it. Emma hates it, and once she realized he did it, she’s always made sure to never wrap anything fragile.

 “You can open that one first because it’s the more casual one.”

 When he opens the box it’s to several new dress shirts, all different shades of blue and white, some with stripes or small dots. He just smiles at her, folding each shirt back into the box before she shoves the smaller box into his hands. Inside are several different sets of cufflinks, ranging from normal black and gold circles to ones in the shape of pizza and martini glasses.

 “These are fantastic,” he laughs, admiring a pair that are in the shape of umbrellas. She looks nervous, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, and he can’t help but wonder why she’s so nervous over cufflinks. “Though I do have to ask what went into the decision making for buying these because I feel like you had a purpose behind them.”

 She bounces a little from her position on the bed, the mattress squeaking with the movement. “So,” she begins, taking the pair of umbrella cufflinks out of his hand and running them between her fingers, “I pulled a you and decided to be kind of sentimental.” He leans toward her with the intention of pinching her side, but she moves away from him at the last minute. “The umbrellas are because it was raining on the night we met. The beer mugs and the martini glasses are because we’ve spent most of our relationship in a pub, obviously. The pizza is because that’s what we had to eat on our first date. Um, it was kind of hard to find other things because I don’t think cufflinks are really made to showcase relationship progress, so I just got the other ones, like the anchor and the initial ones, just because I thought you’d like them.”

 “I love them, Emma. I love you.” He leans forward to quickly press his lips against hers. “Thank you. I’m going to wear the umbrella ones tomorrow.”

 “I love you, too. And you are, really?”

 “Most definitely. Though, if I’d had an umbrella that night we might not have met.”

 Her face changes then, the nervous smile fading into a frown. “I can’t even imagine, Killian. I mean, can you? What would our lives be like? It’s just insane to think about. It honestly freaks me out a bit.”

 “I know, love, but we don’t have to think about it. It happened, and now we’re here.”

 Emma moves to take the boxes out of his hand, placing them on her bedside table (she has a bedside table) before curling up into his side, her head on his shoulder and her hands wrapped around his middle.

 She’s quiet for a moment, nuzzling her nose into his bicep.

 “How did you deal with today? With all the family? I thought everyone was good today, but I always just feel so edgy around your dad and Liam. I could tell that you do, too, even if today was a better day.”

 A sigh passes through his lips before he reaches to pinch his nose, his other hand rubbing soothing circles on Emma’s back. He doesn’t want to talk about this right now.

 “I’m confused, to be honest,” Killian admits. “It’s like I don’t know how to feel. Father is fine, I guess. He’s really turned things around in the effort he makes to be kind to me and to you, which is what I find to be the most important. He works with me on things, listening to my side instead of just going with his. I appreciate it, truly. But I just don’t know how to feel about Liam. He’s…he’s trying. But sometimes it’s like he doesn’t understand the gravity of everything we’ve been through. It doesn’t matter how many talks we have, how much I say. I think he knows he’s wrong and understands that, but I think he has a difficult time owning up to it, if that makes sense? It’s like he wants to say sorry and just move on without acknowledging things. And sometimes I just become frustrated to such a degree that I need a physical way to express that. I think it’s why I’m running even more now.”

 Emma turns to nuzzle her head into his chest, kissing the skin there, soft little butterfly kisses that he can barely feel. “Killian, I’m so sorry. I wish I could help in some way. Make things better besides us just talking.”

 “You already do, love.”

 “That’s sweet, babe, but a lot of this is because of me. At least the recent stuff. You can’t ignore that.”

 “Hey,” he reaches to squeeze her side before continuing to rub her back, something that’s probably more for him than for her, “you’ve done not a thing wrong, my love. It’s not because of you. He reacted to you because of the way he is. It’s from a lifetime of living on a high horse and never being knocked down until recently.”

 “What would make the whole thing better for you? Do you think it’s better to just drop this whole trying to be better toward each other thing and live as you were before? Do you think it’s worth it? I mean, really think it’s worth it to try to be on friendly terms instead of just faking it when you have to? Is that something you actually want, or is it something you’re doing just because you feel like it’s what you should do?”

 He doesn’t want to talk about this. He’s so tired of talking about this.

 “I don’t know. I do think it’s better, that what we’re doing is better, and sometimes he and I will be having a conversation and it’s like all of the shit fades away and we’re just normal, you know? But then my brain reminds me that we’re not. It’s almost like, before I didn’t care how bad our relationship was. I had just resigned myself to it being messed up. But now, now it’s like I’m so desperately searching for something that’s just out of my grasp, and it hurts that every time I reach for it, it moves just a little bit further away.”

 She hugs him a bit tighter, a sure sign that she doesn’t have any words to comfort him, left with just the physical touch that he relies on almost as much.

 “Do you still think it’s possible to forgive him? Do you even want to? Not for him but for yourself?”

 “Is it possible to not forgive and still try to move on with him as someone who has to be a part of my life?”

 “Killian, I’m not sure. That has to be something you decide for yourself.”

 He means his next words, but he doesn’t intend for them to come out as gruffly as they did, harsh and disparaging, and he knows this isn’t how tonight should have gone at all.

 “I’m damn tired of thinking and talking about this. It’s like it’s been my entire life lately. As much as I appreciate you trying to help, I’d really rather not talk anymore tonight, Emma. I’d just like to go to bed.”

 She’s silent at his side.

 At least she’s still at his side.

[michaeloneillwords-music]

Brexit, Global Governance, Perception Management and Freedom

       Democracy. Democracy. Democracy. I thought by saying it three times whilst staring into a mirror, just like the Horror folktale the Candyman, that I might be able to bring it into reality, however I knew my attempts at ritual linguistic and conscious magic would fail. As Democracy, the idea that Government is controlled by the majority of its members representing the majority will of the population, may very well have existed in primitive forms of smaller Government years ago, but it has never existed under the British Parliamentary system, as this system has always had at its very core a conflict of interests, between Monarchical interests, intrinsically tied up with Aristocratic and Financial Interests, and the interests of the public. Thomas Paine writing in his perpetually relevant critique of the British State and the dangers of Political corruption and cronyism in ‘Common Sense’ first published in 1776, understood this conflict and suggested that at the heart of the British political system lay “two ancient tyrannies”, monarchy and aristocracy, and given the growth of the global banking system since his time of writing, we can now add Financial Power, that lest we forget was co-constructed by these perfectly described ancient tyrannies. Indeed Paine goes on to offer an extremely pertinent description of what the Westminster model was designed to do, and is still  doing in the age of transnational governance and in relation to the current political theatre of Brexit, Paine (1776 ,p9) “the constitution of England is so exceedingly complex, that the nation may suffer for years together without being able to discover in which part the fault lies, some will say in one and some will say in another, and every political physician will advise a different medicine”. The just rejected commons vote anyone? In all honestly, I couldn’t care less for the concept of democracy that our political physicians keep espousing, as I have always believed it to be a construction of and means to ‘effective governance’, a governance that defends the interests of Monarchy and global finance over the interests of societies.  Furthermore, since the time of Paine’s writing, this type of governance has been able to implement its ideological agenda ever more effectively with the aid of the mainstream media, something which is being used extremely effectively in the current political skullduggery of ‘Brexit’. The following paper will examine the motivations and objectives of the nation state, the European state and the Global state. It will unpack the British State and Mainstream News Media’s use of propaganda relating to Brexit, in particular its use of the ‘Far Right’ to shape opinion and manufacture consent. It will also look at what offering such a ‘once in a lifetime’ referendum offered in terms of State political capital and the capacity for effective governance, by diverting and focusing collective attention. The paper will throughout engage in conjecture relating to British Secret Service involvement in the current state/media propaganda machine. Finally, the paper will examine what political engagement is ultimately supporting, and look at the politics of selfhood and purpose, in relation to societal change and freedom. Now let me contextualize the current political news media climate.

Please Note: This is not an academic essay, although it does use academic referencing. This piece was written for the value in the process itself, and for the value the writer places on self-sovereignty. It is free from the restrictions of institutions and their biases, and from economic compromise - it has not been monetized.

Brexit and the Mainstream News Media

       So, over the past fortnight or so we have seen the big four British Mainstream News Media outlets the BBC, ITV, Channel 4 and Sky News, set up camp in Parliament Square, to cover what they say is every minute of the ‘Brexit’ negotiations, commons votes, counter votes, further negotiations and so on and on and on and on… . . . . . We have long known that the mainstream news media, at least since Herman and Chomsky’s Manufacturing Consent (1988) - (I am not a Chomsky fan, I believe him to be a compromised academic political puppet) and long before, Bernays, Vance, etc (media as propaganda has a long history), that mainstream news media receives its information (or script) from Institutional press releases, Whitehall, Scotland Yard and other state institutions, but to create Broadcast hubs at Parliament square is another gear in the state/media propaganda machine. Do we really need such centralized (almost around the clock) coverage of what is essentially a behind closed doors process, except say for the commons vote result on Mays proposal, or the odd press conference that is held? Does the bureaucracy of the political establishment really warrant Big Brother (no pun intended) like screen time? Do we need to see political automaton after political automaton, getting out of their chauffer driven cars, walking through the door of deceit, or prostituting themselves to one or all of the four MNM platforms via their convenient broadcast hubs? Personally I’d rather stare at a tree… . . . . there’s more honesty in it. What we have here is just a project to ‘manufacture consent’ or as may be more exacting, perception management. It is political theatre to shape public perception, a form of propaganda easily as nefarious in its aims as previous forms of fascist propaganda, and far from just involving members of parliament, the cast is wide, and the narrative is deceptively insidious. Let me now turn to one of its brightest stars, Owen Jones, and examine the skeleton of the narrative, the ‘so called’ growing Far Right.  

Owen Jones: A Platform to Opinion Shape

     Jones, fresh out of Oxford, worked as a researcher for a trade union, and then went on to write and secure a publishing deal for his book, Chavs: The demonization of the Working Class (2011) which was hugely successful, and rightly so, I thought it was a good historical account of the perception of the working class through the eyes of the establishment and more so the treatment of the (overly homogenized) working class in mainstream culture and media. In the wake of his success Jones was seemingly elevated by the very establishment influenced mainstream media he had just critiqued to become the go to political commentator of the left, and went on to write ‘The Establishment’ (2014), a piss poor investigation into how established power in Britain works that does not go  anywhere near deep enough into where the real bed of power is, that being the British Monarchy, he daren’t, at this point he was compromised, he had a career, a platform and a healthy income, he had too much to lose in letting his ‘straw critique’ go too far. Since then Jones has been a regular commentator across all major news platforms, and on his own popular Youtube channel, fighting for as he claims ‘social Justice’ (when does rallying for social justice become social engineering?) and aligning himself with the progressive liberal left, and all the issues that the manufactured collective political identity of the new left is supporting. He has become the ‘wet dream’ of the young left, and has taken on a morally righteous messiah complex, aided and abated by the mainstream news media at large. Such ubiquity and perpetual access to such far reaching mainstream platforms should ring alarm bells in any political spectator. Nobody, and I mean nobody, is elevated to such a position of influence based solely on merit, and certainly not if there position, politically, socially or philosophically is a threat to the very established power that the mainstream news media is controlled by, nobody. Now, it has been suggested that I am obsessed with Owen Jones by a much welcomed critic of an earlier post of this paper. However, I would have to argue and restate my point, that it is the Mainstream News Media (MNM) who are ‘obsessed’ with Jones. I am merely interested in their obsession with him, and the platform they give him to establish ‘subject position’ (please refer to the work of culture and media critic Stuart Hall 1932-2014), to shape political identity and with it shape left narrative, in the left/right political theatre we are seeing. The effect being that those with less critical faculties, those with less cynicism and skepticism for the power relations at the heart of the Nation State and its capacity to use the MNM to shape mass public perception, simply adopt Jones’ subject position, political identity and narrative, in what has become a culture of ‘copy and paste’ political identity. And indeed, in can be said that Tommy Robinson serves the same purpose on the right, his subject position, political identity and narrative potentially being adopted by the less critical. The comparison is solely based on their roles, wittingly or unwittingly in the political propaganda playing out in the Mainstream News Media.  

         Jones is on a payroll, most likely multiple, and it’s my suggestion given the way he has been issue hopping on command, like some pre-pubescent political court jester that he is most likely on the payroll of the British Secret Services, probably MI5 whose intelligence operations are widely known to be deeply embedded in the British mainstream media. Robinson certainly is. Jones and a litany of political media whores are employed not to engage in honest investigative journalism and debate, but instead to shape the narrative and thus the nation’s perspective in relation to the national, European and Global political agenda, with the focus right now being the European Union. In the wake of Mays commons rejected deal and long before, the name of the game has been to destroy any consensus in the UK to leave the European Union, and this is why we have seen in the past fortnight these platforms outside parliament used to parade a so called ‘Far Right’ who are framed as Brexit supporters, and thus creating a connection and/or association between ‘Far Right’ perspectives and a skepticism or rejection of centralized European control through the super state of the European Union. Please allow me to digress for a moment to discuss why such an operation is taking place, and why our own state (not mine) is complicit, as I briefly discuss the European Union and Global Government.

The European Union: History, Objectives and Process

         As professor of political geography John Rennie Short (1993, P62-67) discusses in the 2nd Edition of his Introduction to Political Geography, Europe was in terrible shape after the 2nd World War, battered from a war funded by US capital, with many of the individual European countries involved now facing bankruptcy. The political project that was to come, born out of the OEEC, OECD and NATO, was indeed the brainchild of US political and economic strategy, as the USA emerged out of this period as the new global political superpower. One must note and remember at this juncture, whilst the British State may have been economically and politically weakened, its monarchy, which heads the state, and was connected to the German Nazi party retained its wealth and power. Returning back to the European project, as Short (1993, p63) documents, the OEEC  drawn up by the USA was concerned with maintaining peace and co-operation within Europe, but this was secondary to and necessary only for the USA’s real objective, that of resuscitating (and thus indebting) European Economies , and establishing a European trading block. The beginning one may argue of the real consolidation of wealth into the few hands that hold it today, and the projects of increased national and societal debt. Later, in 1958 the European Economic Community (EEC) was established, bringing with it the common market and the free movement of capital, goods and people – or as we would later be referred to as ‘human resources’. Then in 1992 the single market was established - furthering internal economic control, in 1993 the Maastricht Treaty  brought in a single currency and tighter control over sovereign states security and foreign policy, greater restrictions  and centralizing of power coming  again in 2009 with the Lisbon treaty, essentially creating European Law and a European constitution.

     I hope you can see with this trajectory, that the European Union is a political and economic project of Western financial power spearheaded by the USA, one that has used the union of European Nation States as a means of consolidating its wealth, and as by result of its trajectory, and ultimately its overarching objective, has replaced the sovereign nation state with a European Super-state. The state lest we forget has long been merely an administrative system for established national power – monarchical, aristocratic and financial, operating as a ‘so called’ democratic body. Indeed, we as a nation have never and will never be able to influence the mechanics and objectives of the European Union, this is solely left to the ‘European Commission’ (EU,2019), a body of 28 unelected, yes unelected, officials, or if you would prefer to put it another way, self-appointed officials presiding over our future (in material terms at least!). Now, we can send our delegates over to Brussels (like we did with the New Right’s political saviour and supposed anti-globalist Nigel Farage), to put forward our desires and ideas, our likes and dislikes, but this process is merely a pan European Political Pantomime, attempting to imitate a European Democracy. In fact the reality of the ‘European Commission’ headed by the fat necked, red faced piss pot that is Claude Juncker, is that it is  the utter inversion of democratic process, it is more akin to a ‘European House of Lords’ (albeit collectively less wrinkled!) who are there to  protect the interests of the global project. It is through ‘The Commission’ that all national European ‘democratic delusions’ must pass, and thus it becomes a sort of last stop for these delusions, they are noted but ignored, as they do not fit with the Global political project that the European Union is an important part of and stepping stone to. Even the political super villain that was Margaret Thatcher, surely one of the greatest actors to ever grace the stage of political theatre (personally I would have given her an Oscar for every year she was in Office!), eventually saw first-hand what the European Union really was, an undemocratic Super State (Thatcher, 2017). Indeed, in the late 1980’s it can be said that there was cross party skepticism of the European project, as in the form of Tony Benn Labour and the left had one of the European Union’s fiercest critics. However, he was sidelined, as was Thatcher (replaced by Major), no doubt for their positions, with Labour choosing instead the then luke-warm Europhile Neil Kinnock, followed by the boiling hot Europhile Tony Blair, and so with time the skepticism and dangers of the European Union as a Super State receded.

The United Nations and Global Governance

     In addition to the project of the European Union, we have the United Nations, another pack of un-elected or if you prefer self-appointed delegates working in the interest of global finance. The UN in its own words is “an international organization founded in 1945.  It is currently made up of 193 Member States… . . .that brings together its  member states to confront common challenges, manage shared responsibilities”(UN,2019). The UN was another post 2nd world war large scale trans national political project, that has long been concerned with implementing through political coercion and sleight of hand the agenda of global finance. The UN have since their inception been controlling trade and development around the globe with the setting of the UNCTAD (United Nations Conference on Trade and Development) and pivotally in 1974 working to establish a ‘New International Economic Order’ (Short, 1993, p32). However, their most integral contribution to the project of global governance is the official UN Agenda 21 (UN,1992), and Agenda 30 documents (UN,2015), which claim to be concerned with a sustainable global future, but which go far beyond ecological concern into the realm of large scale global human and resource control, Agenda 2030 is especially revealing  (and sinister) in its desire to control the human experience. Indeed, these documents outline the need for its guidelines to be implemented at a local and not national government level by its member states, to ensure no doubt, that its more questionable at best, and extremely sinister at worst, guidelines do not enter into the public consciousness through national political debate. Furthermore, they are documents that have pretty much been ignored by the Mainstream New Media – to be expected really, with the hopefully soon to be out of print shit rag of the progressive left, the guardian claiming it to be a loose and benign set of guidelines, that has merely stirred the interest of ‘conspiracy theorists. Ha! Well if the sustainable smart cities that we have seen constructed across the West (and China), sort of urban high-rise digital concentration camps, soon to be augmented by the introduction of the ‘extremely dangerous’– words of 350 scientists who have collectivized against its roll out, are invisible to you in the UK, from London to Manchester, Liverpool to Bristol, then you should really visit your local opticians, or if you listen to the ‘conspiracy theorists’, check your wrist and neck for a microchip!

The EU Referendum: The Vote That Keeps on Giving

     Now, before returning to the current political narrative of a growing ‘Far Right’ led by its leading man, the cherub faced Marxist Owen Jones (I’m sure you’re a nice chap Owen, just lost like so many others, in a sea of political and mass media filth), I’d like to talk about the other political advantages of holding a (now increasingly unlikely) once in a generation vote, the great 2016 referendum on the UK’s membership to the European Union, that has resulted in the ongoing political theatre we call ‘BREXIT’! I did not vote in the Referendum, as I believed then, just as I believe now that the Establishments decision (and it was an establishment decision) to offer a so called people’s vote, had a number of other – national and geo political motives. Firstly, one must remember that this decision came in the wake of what should have been a watershed moment in British political and cultural history, the establishment pedophile scandal, that had the ‘Knighted by the Queen’ Sir Jimmy Saville at its centre, a man who held frequent company with, and had very close ties to, our lovely and benign Monarchy, and the ‘servants of the people’ our political elite. Are we to really believe that a man who was welcomed in to these closed circles and elite institutions had not been vetted by British Secret Services? Really? Are we to believe that? The Monarchy and political establishment knew then as they know now who Saville was and what he was involved in. Indeed, our Secret Services and intelligence agencies are the most far reaching, well connected and sophisticated on the entire planet (think of GCHQ, MI5, MI6, and include Canada, Australia and other former commonwealth countries, that are still controlled behind the scenes by British power and finance). Nevertheless, the Establishment paedophile scandal and subsequent piecemeal, toothless and repeatedly derailed public inquiry have long been forgotten in the wake of the all-consuming Brexit, by both the complicit Mainstream News Media and in the minds of the collective public. In addition, we all but ignored the information presented in the Chillcott Inquiry, documenting the illegal and unjust (there has never really been a just war) war that the State waged in Iraq, which should have seen the Fabien fuckwit Tony Blair tried for War Crimes, but has since seen him somehow exonerated for his role, and placed at the forefront of the European and Global political propaganda machine, rolled out to sway public opinion, just as other European and global governance enthusiasts, like Michael Hesseltine and John Major have (you’ve all served your purpose, so please shut up and fuck off back to the Cotswold’s, where I’m sure you can arse rape a fox with impunity, or fuck a pigs head until you heart’s content!). It is a form of what can be considered ‘Effective Governance’, it uses the state apparatus – in this case a referendum to divert public attention, or redirect flak, and it drags out process slowly, ever so slowly, so to ensure that we have collectively moved on from any events or uncovering’s that are potentially damaging to the Established power in question.

     Ultimately, the result of the Referendum vote was irrelevant to the long term geo-political plan, whatever the outcome the National, European and Global power co-operating in the construction of this potential (if not already actual) Global prison could use the result to their advantage, and ultimately reach their objective. A vote to remain would have taken us to where the aforementioned power desired us to go, straight into a seemingly final tie with the European Union, and thus further down the line connecting with the other political zones that have been and are being formed. A vote to leave, as we supposedly got however opened up a myriad of national political and trans-national political possibilities, such as those I have just discussed and those that we have seen. It increased the capacity to divert all attention away from National Austerity – which we should not forget was the result of the European Union’s Maastricht criteria, calculations of government debt and budget deficits against GDP, in the wake of the 2008 Financial Crash (The European Institute, 2019). Indeed, this is the lunacy of the Labour supporting progressive left, they perpetually demonstrate and march against Austerity, yet they (in the main) are seeking a 2nd referendum and realignment with the very institution whose Fiscal Policy proposed our National Austerity Programme. In relation to this, political and social debate also been diverted away from addressing the growing homelessness crisis, and paradoxically the continued building and implementation of Smart Cities (Neo Yuppie Penthouses doubling up as sky rise digital prisons) at a time of austerity. In addition, there has been the globalist attack on Syria and the migrant crisis that have been reported but relatively skimmed over, we have also had an absolute explosion of mental health diagnosis, here and across the west, alongside the criminally ignored dangers of Vaccinations, Artificial Intelligence and the soon to be implemented and scientist labelled highly dangerous 5G technology (5G Appeal, 2017), and on and on and on. It is no coincidence that such important issues have taken a back seat to the political doublespeak of our vapid and deceitful public servants perpetually discussing Brexit, alongside propaganda straw figures such as Owen Jones and Tommy Robinson et al.

Brexit, The EU and the road to Global Governance

     Indeed, when political power on behalf of its Royal and Financial seniors, offer something like the European referendum vote, it is not to hand power to the people (these people see you as a human resource to ‘debt the fuck out of’ – see Baudrillard’s brilliant Debt Economy) so we can decide our own destiny, or to adhere to the tenets of democracy (talk of a 2nd Referendum Vote all but undermines this greatest of political fallacies), but instead to further the agenda of the established national and global power structure towards  Global Governance. Global Governance I hear you say, New World Order? Sounds like ‘Conspiracy Theorist’ stuff to me mate! Well, as Professor John Rennie Short (1993, p52/53) points out, “In 1990-1 a new term was heard in International diplomatic circles: The New World Order. Like all ‘new’ terms it was not that new, as politicians have been predicting a New World Order for at least a couple of centuries”. Surely not you say, a couple of centuries? Well, think on it, we are willing to accept, and seemingly happy to digest the fact that the worlds wealth has slowly been concentrated into the hands of the elusive 1% (I really hate the phrase), yet we seem completely unwilling to accept that this concentration of wealth, and with it power, influence and control, may have risen from meticulous long term planning, using all the state and financial institutions available by a global elite based in Monarchies and Finance banking. Was it chance? Pure luck then? Please, if you believe we are where we are by an unplanned set of random events, happenings and accidents, then I worry for you, and where you ignorance and naiveté may lead you and others like you. Ultimately the referendum was handed to the people (and if power ever hands you anything be very suspicious!) to take us, the British State and all other European Nation States trapped in the undemocratic European Union into the next phase of the Global Governance project, or as  global politicians and diplomats have themselves referred to it as, The New World Order or the even more sinister Global Village. It puts to bed the EU question in Britain and it also acts to send an emphatic message to all other European Countries where there may be a rightfully placed distrust of the European super state, attempt to leave and we will financially destroy you, offering you a deal so bad you will be economically in a worse place than before, and as we are now seeing, we will ultimately gain control of you by your own consent.

The ‘Far Right’, Manufacturing Consent and the Fascist Reality of the Nation State

     I would like to repeat once again, the assertions by a mainstream media that the ‘Far Right’ is on the rise in the UK is pure political propaganda  and shaping of collective public perception to manufacture our consent for their global political project. It is the politics of fear from a mainstream who are increasingly shifting towards the political left – “only our support for a progressive liberal left government united with our European comrades can stop this Fascist rise”. However, evidence of this Far Right rise, is not, to me anyway, visible or tangible in Manchester where I live, and have always lived. I just don’t see it. I do see Owen Jones and Anna Soubry being attacked on the new Broadcast Hubs of Mainstream Media, by what to me looks like a ‘hired in’ pack of supposedly Brexit supporting Far Right protestors. By making the connection on Mainstream News Media between Brexit voters and Far Right Fascists, the powers that be are shaping the narrative, and public perception, as well as risking the increase of serious societal division and prejudice. Only weeks ago a similar objective was sought when the Mossad funded, British Secret Service operative Tommy Robinson (not his real name, but hey, marks for such a British moniker!) it was widely reported was joining Ukip, the party who we’re told propelled us into the leave vote, led by Nigel Farage and who have repeatedly been accused of being Right Wing. As a result of these falsified connections, there would have undoubtedly been left in the minds of all of those who voted to leave on the (completely reasonable) grounds of the impact that unfettered migration has had on our public services, most notably the strain on GP and NHS services, alongside school places, unemployment, housing, and in the minds of all those who own small businesses, whose growth ‘is’ restricted by EU regulations, an instant sense of fear that they are now being unjustly grouped in with, or labelled as ‘Far Right’. It is classic group psychological manipulation, it has created an ‘undesirable’ sub-group linked unjustly by association to leave voters, and thus has generated the power to produce conformity in large numbers to the desirable position of remain. It is straight of the Tavistock Institute of social engineering. The current media melee down at Parliament Square is precisely an exercise in shaping public perception, it is established power seeking the public’s consent - by means of fear, fear of being labelled a ‘fascist’ and not through autonomous informed choice - for closer alignment to a European and in turn Global Government. The Ultimate form of centralized power that has openly been discussed by diplomats, financial power and monarchies for decades now, if not centuries.

     I have seen the ‘Far Right’, marching in Manchester a few years ago now under the moniker the English Defense League, they were, and still are if the BBC footage can be trusted, a bunch of toothless, amphetamine addled, bomber jacket wearing clichés (equally as lost in some collective political identity as the new progressive left) from some of England’s most disenfranchised provincial towns. I don’t despise them, just as I don’t despise the new left, I feel sorry for them, how they have been called to service by their masters and played their required role, pawns in a game of a continuing political, financial and now ever more technocratic agenda. The mainstream news media and Jones’ repeated assertions that the ‘Far Right’ in England is gaining support and momentum is at best an over exaggeration and at worst, further evidence of national State propaganda through the corrupted mouthpiece that is the mainstream news media. However, as I have just stated, the idea that a real ground level ‘Far Right’ is capable of organizing itself into a tangible political Body that will appeal to Britain’s electorate, and thus steal the reign’s of power from the two main parties in our undemocratic political system is absolute nonsense, absurdity personified, utter bollox. I imagine they could collectively barely organize a sock drawer. The only way that these extremely fringe views could ever perceivably be consolidated into some tangible organization, and galvanize support  is with the help of British Secret Services, and historically they have been, not to steal the reins of power, but to once again manage public perception and manufacture political consent.  

         The real farcical nature of all this and the revealing of its true motives come when you examine the new progressive left’s and Jones’ position on how to deal with a supposedly authentic, rising and politically charged ‘Far Right’. They, headed by their self-appointed Guru Jones and assisted extensively by his and the New Lefts access to Mainstream Media platforms, is to deny the ‘Far Right’ a platform (although as discussed it has been given one in very suspicious circumstances through these broadcast hubs at Parliament square), and to deny this groups right to freedom of speech. Through this very act of proposed censorship, we are seeing an attack on the Freedom of speech. Now I do not agree, with the stereotypical views that have long been associated with the Far Right, but I will, yes I will, defend its right to freedom of speech, because I too value my right to freedom of speech, and I understand that if you do not defend the right to freedom of speech for all then there is no such thing. This position of attempting to deny the right for this supposed rising ‘Far Right’ to have its voice heard, is an idiotic and dangerous one to take, and here’s why I believe it to be such. At a basic psychological and philosophical level, at the micro subjective level of the shadow self and at the macro level of the collective shadow, one, or we, must never deny the reality of darkness. Just as we must face the light we must face the dark, for it is the only way to individual and collective consciousness evolution. The danger is that if we collectively deny this shadow (if we are to believe that this fascist Right is authentic) then it will no doubt fester and grow in the shadows. For all shadow or darkness not faced down by the individual or the collective, will eventually come screaming out of the unconscious, for we are all one, and we must deal with the shadow as such. Indeed Carl Gustav Jung 1875-1961 writing on these concepts and the archetypes that must wrestle with them (2001, p156) comments “A consciousness sharpened by experience knows the catastrophic consequences that disregard of this entails for the individual as well as the society”. Thus, drag it into the light, make it visible, face it and diminish its power. The irony here is this, that there is nothing more fascist than the nation state, the framework in which all of this is taking place, aided by its media. Can you think of any greater form of fascism than one which wages wars, builds arms, kills millions on foreign soil, sends its own youth to death in battle, imprisons for profit, surveils its people, drugs entire populations, indoctrinates instead of educates? We have been living under fascism for decades if not centuries, it is only that we are too comfortable under the system of sense pleasure reward it has created for us that we tolerate it. Indeed, by actively engaging with this political machinery, either by voting, joining or canvassing for any political party, you are supporting a system of tyranny and albeit indirectly, supporting all of the above abuses and thus breaking natural law. Greater still is the geo political financially backed march towards global governance, that the European union is a bridge to that if most terrifying, surely a global super state is the apex of fascist possibility, and one that we are sleepwalking into the final stages of, and by engaging with the political machinery you are actively supporting it.

     Let me state again, as it truly needs it, the events that we are seeing unfold in Brussels and Westminster are not the levers of democracy in motion, but instead the institutions of national and global, political, financial and monarchical power shaping the minds and material realities of the mass public, to manufacture our consent, as they lead us from A to B in a manner which on the surface presents democracy in action. Again, British Secret Services are not merely employed to counteract Terrorism as the official narrative goes, far from it, they have long been deployed to surveille their own people, infiltrate and control the mass media and to employ or compromise those with considerable influence, from politicians to authors to musicians, from Tony Blair to Owen Jones to Russell Brand (remember that slimy momentarily ‘new age’ sex pest!), they all have a price or a skeleton in the closet. The current level of political theatre surrounding Brexit at Parliament square is just the ratcheting up of public perception shaping, it is the collusion of the political establishment, the mainstream media and British secret services. It is the leading of the public to conclusions and opinions which secure their position, it is an exercise in how to obtain hegemony through deceit. I am afraid dear reader, it is once again working a treat.

National and European Political Structure: A Conflict of Interests and Lack of Accountability

         We have seen with Brexit, the hardening of Political Identities and increased conformity to them by the general public, positions with deeper divisions than ever before between them, all reinforced by the mainstream news media, political rhetoric and even commercial marketing. We have been individually and collectively psychologically kettled into position by these institutions in the most nefarious of manners. As Thomas Paine rightfully (1776, p5) observed many moons ago “government is at best a necessary evil”, so the idea that collectively we would seek to add another layer of governance to the already compromised and corrupted one we have in Westminster is to this writer anyway, is some form of collectively confused madness and a gross rejection of the greatest virtue of all, freedom. It is proof enough to me that our perceptions, thoughts and actions as a society, are truly not our own. My position is this, and I have already stated I hold no hope in political systems or arms of the state for change, I hold these institutions in contempt, and have as little to do with them as I possibly can (save for examining them and understanding them). Unless you remove the unelected layer of centralized governance that is the EU, you will never truly be able to hold Westminster to account. It will always be able to excuse its actions or non-actions by claiming that it is hampered by EU regulations, which in the coming years will no doubt become all-consuming for the Nation States involved. However, if you remove it (I hold no hope that this is actually possible) then at least you can point the finger solely at your own (not mine) Nation State, one that you must not forget has historically repeatedly lied to you on behalf of those who it really serves, but at least one where you can elect those who are involved to some degree in the passing of legislation, unlike the EU. No body politic should be unelected, nor should it be unaccountable, yet the EU and its globalist big brother the UN are exactly that. Even if we left the EU on WTO rules (the obvious thing to do!), paying the EU nothing in severance and instead investing the saved severance package in the democratically savaged NHS, we would still be faced with a political system unfit (as it always has been) to serve the public. Our Westminster model works on behalf of and answers to The Queen, and thus the Monarchy as a whole, its connected aristocracy, and finance , most notably The City of London (the trading district – not London). Anyone who believes that the British Empire’s (headed by our Monarchy) power, control, influence and wealth diminished long ago, I suggest you they watch The Spiders Web: Britains Second Empire by Michael Oswald (Oswald, 2018) or read Nicholas Shaxson's book Treasure Islands. The British Monarchy and its Empire merely transformed its wealth and power into more esoteric form, but that is something to be discussed at another time. I predict that one of two things will happen. First, the whole political theatre will be dragged out until the death, extracting as much political attention out of the whole saga as possible, keeping the public’s attention for as long as possible, then, eventually we will have a 2nd Referendum and the UK will vote to remain in the European Union. The second possibility is exactly the same as the first, except once all of the political propaganda has been squeezed out of the process, we will have a deal that see’s the UK leave the EU in name only.  

The Reality of Political Participation and the Politics of Purpose and Self-hood

          Change, real change, not change engineered by the vested interests of established power through institutions such as the Tavistock Institute, or more openly party political affiliated groups such as Momentum (towards what I ask?), or lest we forget the Mainstream Media and Culture machines, will come with the evolution of consciousness, of knowledge, of self-understanding in individuals, one by one, and the sharing of this knowledge, the change will be internal and as a result reflected externally. All other work then, other than the evolution of the self and the sharing of self-knowledge, a knowledge which takes in our connectedness to all consciousness, encompassing all nature and beyond can be seen as useless toil. Indeed, all other work may be understood as work we are doing on behalf of our unjust masters, and thus the work of our own domination and enslavement. For the system of mass consciousness control with politics at its beating heart is vampyric in nature. As the Psychoanalyst and Social Psychologist Erich Fromm 1900-80 (2001, p112) points out “like the effect of advertising on the consumer, the methods of political propaganda tend to increase the feeling of insignificance in the voter… . . . Confronted with the power and size of the parties as demonstrated in their propaganda, the individual voter cannot help feeling small and of little significance”.  Indeed, it drains us of our natural internal energy, it robs us of our creative potential, it engineers self-loathing and it implements a framework of psychic subordination within us, one where we are always less, and never as we should be, that being equal and free to enjoy the magnificent subjective sensory experience of consciousness. Instead we have our consciousness’ reduced to shouting and screaming at one another based on manufactured political identities, or material identities in general, we are left watching change agents such as Tommy Robinson on the so called ‘Right’, and his equal on the so called left Owen Jones vie for our attention. We, in our ‘mugged off’ state of consciousness end up screaming and shouting in support or contempt of these ‘straw figures’, who are merely agents of the state, employed to shape our perceptions and manufacture our consent. One should only ever engage with such a 3rd rate pantomime, to recognize it as such, and acquaint oneself with the mechanisms and processes that propaganda machines employ. Any other type of engagement must surely be in ignorance, delusion or willing self-deception, positions I have no sympathy for. Either that, or as Erich Fromm (2002, p112) also points out, political propaganda can seduce the individuals desire to appear intellectual “All of this does not mean that advertising and political propaganda overtly stress the individual’s insignificance. Quite the contrary; they flatter the individual by making him appear important, and by pretending to appeal to his critical judgement, to his sense of discrimination. But these pretences are essentially a method to dull the individual’s suspicions and to help him fool himself as to the individual character of his decision”. Something I would like you to bear in mind as we move on.  

         In addition and in relation especially to my peer group and the younger generations, any notion that the ‘Red Team’ - The Labour Party will either lead us to a collectively better place or be a ‘stepping stone’ (Marxist clap trap on the use of the state apparatus as a phase towards freedom!) to a collectively better place, are without doubt to my mind delusional, and if I didn’t understand the depraved, sinister and futile field of Pharmacology so well, I would suggest you go to see a psychiatrist. For let me put in the terms of ‘the common’ of which I belong. Whether Manchester United or Manchester City win the Premier League is ultimately irrelevant, as the real winner in this domain will always be the Trans National Corporation that is SKY, or if we refer back to the political domain, the established Monarchical and Financial power it serves. For this my friends, is how the game was constructed to be. Even academics are now (belatedly I might add) conceding to the illusion that democracy is, with the term ‘post democracy’. I would have to argue that we have never really experienced democracy in the UK at all given its conflict of interests (Paine,1776), and furthermore, global governance as is esoterically handed out by the UN and the unelected European Union are obvious examples of governance without even the illusion of consent. Yet we still, like a grieving widow, unwilling to accept her husband’s death, cling to the notion that democracy is alive and well. Furthermore, to my peers and anyone caught up in this political hyper reality, ask yourself this. Are you wanting to change, shape, control and master the material world, the political realm and all of its influence based upon your political identities doctrine of ‘the good’? Then surely you must first be able to shape, control and master you own mind and consciousness? Have you? I know I haven’t. I am not advocating silence here, but instead the communication and sharing of knowledge outside of institutional contexts, free from their restrictions and power relations, where knowledge can lead you where it may. As I have previously stated, change can only come through the development of self-hood, with the understanding of the conscious and unconscious self, for this manifests in the collective, every other preoccupation for all intents and purposes is a diversion. Why then you may ask, am I even writing this essay at all? Well, as I have stated I do not care for party politics, nor the British State (both of my parents are Irish Republicans, my grandfather fought as a member of the Irish Republican Army against British State Occupation, and I am a 2nd Generation Irish Immigrant), but I do care for personal freedom, the right to autonomous thought and the right to self-sovereignty, all in relation to natural law (a law that forbids the infliction of pain and suffering, mental or physical on any other being). And I also believe, as I think this piece has brought to light, that these aforementioned values are under serious threat from global political forces and financial power, who are more and more shaping our reality and human experience. However, one must remember that in times of grave political, cultural and ever increasingly technological deception, that ‘power’ in all its guises from the micro individual to the macro systemic, only has the power that we give it. Indeed, it is power (through wealth accumulation) that has been amassed through our engagement with politics and the economic market, and that is simply the reality of it. Furthermore, this Global structure and its political machinery can never give us what is already ours, that being the freedom of both thought and expression, but it can my friends, as it is attempting to do, take those freedoms away.

Written by Michael O’Neill 23/01/2019

(Notes from the Margins)

References

Chomsky, Noam & Herman, Edward S, 1995, Manufacturing Consent: The Political Economy of the Mass Media, Vintage

EU, 2019, https://europa.eu/european-union/index_en

EU, 2019, https://europa.eu/european-union/eu-law/decision-making/procedures_en

The European Institute, 2019, https://www.europeaninstitute.org/index.php/112-european-affairs/special-g-20-issue-on-financial-reform/1180-austerity-measures-in-the-eu

Fromm, Erich, 2002, The Fear of Freedom, Routledge Taylor and Francis Group

Jung, Carl Gustav, 2001, On the Nature of the Psyche, Routledge

Oswald, Michael, 2018, The Spider's Web: Britain's Second Empire, Patreon, Accessed via Youtube, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=np_ylvc8Zj8

Paine, Thomas, 1776, Reprint 2004 – Common Sense, The Penguin Group

Short, John Rennie, 1993, An Introduction to Political Geography, Routledge

Thatcher, Margaret, 2017, On Europe, Harper Collins Publishers

UN, 2019, http://www.un.org/en/index.html

UN, 2019, https://sustainabledevelopment.un.org/milestones/unced/agenda21

UN, 1992, https://sustainabledevelopment.un.org/content/documents/Agenda21.pdf

UN, 2015, https://sustainabledevelopment.un.org/content/documents/21252030%20Agenda%20for%20Sustainable%20Development%20web.pdf

5G Appeal, 2017, https://ehtrust.org/wp-content/uploads/Scientist-5G-appeal-2017.pdf?fbclid=IwAR1KaWdcnbtR2pYrHriBhzWfvcfzRAgfUR8SWiaogxcrRA5P9WHJi77hGyM

[prodigal-ezreal]

Nach Little Box of Hopes And Fears: Ezreal rework edition.

Let’s open this Pandora box, okay?

So, The Ezreal rework is probably hitting live somewhere at the end of the year after Worlds and the PBE during them, which gives us two months to sit, twiddle our thumbs and think. And Oh Boi! Have I thought! More under the cut because this Got Long.

This is all VERY subjective. Please take it with a grain of sea salt.

Let’s start from the beginning, as all organized matters should: What has Riot been doing with their reworks and Lore updates lately?

In my opinion, is give everyone and everything a place in the world, connecting characters and things that might have not been connected previously and retconning a few things along the way— With various degrees of success. The Darkin in Shurima are probably one of the biggest offenders here. While it gave them a place in Runaterra other than ‘Maybe aliens from another dimension/Old As Hell Demons’, Aatrox’s rework, Varus’s music video and Rhaast’s release never tied their designs or origins to anything Shuriman, from there the whiplash I got at least.

But that’s beside the point I’m trying to make. What’s Ezreal’s current state in the Lore?

Well, Ezreal has always been kind of in a weird spot post-institute, he’s from Piltover but has never had any strong affiliations or associations with the City State other than the place in which he spent his childhood, and now with the Piltover/Zaun and his own lore update, he has little ties in design as well! Back in the day, belts were all the rage in Piltover, now it’s more of an Art Deco thing —which I love— but Mr ‘I could probably go a week eating only the leather in my outfit’s belts and I still wouldn’t go hungry’ doesn’t fit anymore aesthetically. Shurima is still important to his character, since that’s where he got his gauntlet from, but as we can see from Elixir of Uloa, he’s not limited to exploring the desert, and to be honest? he never was.

Talking about design, it’s not that his design is horrendously bad, even if a bit ridiculous for his job (leather is not a breathable fabric), it just grew old. And it could have grown older! But the disparity between League’s current aesthetic/lore direction and Ezreal’s would have grown way too large for a champion so played. That’s why I reason they chose him, and not fiddlesticks or Udyr, for a VU/VO right now.

And here is where the box gets opened: let’s go first through the fears to have hope be sitting nice and pretty still inside at the end, okay?

I think everyone that follows me knows that, while I eat up any and all canon Ezreal content, I really don’t like the most recent approach Riot has had with his art: That Cutesy, Pixie Boy aesthetic that gets in my nerves and is present both in Star Guardian and the most recent World Championship skins. (Not to mention, they have gotten really lazy painting/modeling his face? I’d argue Ace of Spades has a prettier face than SG/SSG). Were his rework to take that direction for the sake of the good old ‘Ez is a girl’ joke, I’m going to be really sad about it. And Mad. Smad.

Not because I have a probelm with Ezreal not being your traditional hypermasculine fantasy male character, I quite enjoy that he isn’t, and if they were to tilt the scales in that direction to overfix the same joke, I’d still feel weird about it.

I think its easy to understand the fear of my favorite character being changed into the joke that has plagued him for years because of the homophobic fanbase that birthed it. My beef of course isn’t with male aligned people who don’t fit into the expectations of the gender, and it’s not my intention to imply that if you like the joke/ship, that you are contributing to your own oppression by reclaiming something they named as shameful— of course not. My beef is with the fact they claimed it shameful and that Riot is Not Woke Enough to pretend like it was their intention all along and they aren’t playing into the vices and prejuices of its fanbase. Let me explain.

Tar/ez or Eztar!c exists only because of the powerduo they used to be all the way back in Season 2, and persisted as an intracommunity joke because people just loved making fun of characters that didn’t quite fit with the usual Male Archetype(tm), Ezreal with his assumed ‘pretty boy’ looks (assumed because tbh no one was pretty back then) and lithe physique, and Taric with his ‘affeminate’ liking of gems. This joke, rooted in homophobia, turned both of their characters into jokes that Riot despite its best efforts because I mostly liked Taric’s rework, shut up, still l can’t completely overcome to this day, when the usage of ‘lol that’s so gay’ is not as negative as the beggining of the decade. It’s not like I think that it’s going to go away, I just fear it’s gonna get worse.

Not to mention! The wildly original, very alive horse that is the ‘Ez is a girl’ joke, comes from people forcing heterosexual roles into same gender relationships which, ew! That and his “Pretty anime boy” archetype, since those are also popular in yao! media (double ew). AND from the misogony that any male aligned person, or in less serious cases like this one, character, that doesn’t fall into line with the expectative of its gender, it’s marked as lesser. You might see this issues and think ‘I barely see that anymore’, which, fair. It has been in decline in the general Internet Population since the second half of the decade, but all of these problems stem from early 2010’s gamer culture so— Yeah. That’s another can of worms I am NOT opening.

TLDR: I feel like the the recent art direction comes from toxic places and I’m fearful Riot is gonna play into that instead of ignoring it.

It may be something else behind those decisions, but this is what my confirmation bias looks like.

Enough of unfounded fears I have now struck into your hearts because if I’m going to hell worrying about this, I’m gonna bring you all with me. Let’s think about hope.

My highest hopes for the update is that Riot plays into Ezreal’s lack of strong links— Not only do I think that it makes sense for a explorer to never truly belong in one place, it’s just easier and doesn’t force anything too alien to his character. I’d really like if they went for a ‘citizen of the world’ kind of deal. Make his design something based on Piltover but obviously worn and foreign, pepper his language with words from Shurima, Freljord, Ionia! Hell, with how big Noxus is, he’d have to learn to speak the language if he wanted to cross through it. I feel like he’s a wonderful opportunity to represent how diverse, yet interconnected Runnaterra is. I also feel like it plays into his fantasy of being a dashing —pun intended—young man who gets in and out of trouble, from adventure to adventure a la Indana Jones.

But going back to Riot’s Lore direction, we still need to tie him with somewhere, or at the very least, something.

Enter the world rune.

‘But Nach’ I hear you wail as I use either 50’s sellsman tactics or early 2000’s fanfic writer interrumptions to catch your attention, ‘World Runes are Ryze’s thing!’

Which, Fair. They are. I’m not saying Ezreal is gonna ‘prove himself to be able to let go of a World Rune’ since that is Ryze’s exclusive thing (even if the thought of that happening and Ez outright rejecting it cos Adventure sounds very appealing to me) I just want him to be tied to the missing World Rune because it makes sense for League’s token explorer to accidentaly stumble into the World Magic Battery.

Also because of the promo, but who knows. Maybe he wasn’t in the Ryze short precisely for that, maybe because since it had been so many years on the making, Ez wasn’t even in the Update Radar then and they just didn’t include him/made reference to him. It doesn’t matter, we don’t know. Time will tell.

Plus, him being tied to the World Rune would make Zoe’s fixation —as creepy as it is— make a bit more sense. If the Aspect Of Change that damned The Darkin is the same one we have today, It’d make her have more secretive, ulterior motives and connect her happy go lucky and childish personality to that mischeveous, manipulative persona we got to see in the Darkin story. If it turns out they are different, it still makes sense with Zoe’s Color story and IG characterization since she can’t seem to get serious about/remember what precisely she was supposed to omen.

TLDR Hopes: Just tie him to the world rune, it’d be cool. Also make him a fucking tutti fruti of cultures.

To tie it all up, I know there’s not much I can do but wait, since I am not active in the forums or the reddit community— but If I could feel in my heart Zoe was gonna have a crush on Ezreal when we got her ig teaser, then I do dare hope.

[fantroll-purgatory]

Ellara Aphros

@ghostlyshoes

Yeah, I know for now she looks a tad like a certain canon character we know. Though she’s a trollsona and somewhat based off me anyway. I’m open to changes in design you might want to put forward though! (Note: the one on the far left was created by a friend for me!)

Hmmm… I might want to play with this idea of her looking like Vriska a little bit, actually. It’s very uncommon for trolls to share signs, which means they’re very closely related if they DO share a common sign. So I think… Usually I don’t jump the gun on talking about themes and ideas like this all the way at the beginning, but I think I want her ancestor to be at least related to Mindfang. Maybe her ancestor was one of Mindfang’s Hypothetical on-planet descendants… 

I want to do this connection link if only because of her interest in the zodiac, interest in history, interest in destiny, stuff like that. 

Planet: Alternia

Name: Ellara Aphros ‘Ellara’ is close to ‘Helena/Helen’ which means ‘bright shining light’ or Torch. It may have connections to ‘Helios’ the Greek sun God in lexicographical meaning. ‘Aphros’ comes from ‘Aphrodite’ Venus’s Roman counterpart. It also links to both ‘Phosphorous’ (A Chemical element which is highly reactive and glows with a bright white light, ‘phosphorescent’ meaning to glow, particularly in the Dark which could also relate to her god-tier Sylph of Light which means ‘Creator of Light’. And the word ‘Amp’ a unit of electric current.

Eilidh might be a better option than Ellara, because it is the Gaelic version of the name Helen. 

Aphros might be good, though the amp thing doesn’t feel particularly related to her name or her theme… And she’s not particularly focused on beauty, so referencing Aphrodite might not be the best option? Maybe Vernal instead. Vernal references the Vernal Equinox, which is the solar position from which the Zodiac was determined. 

Eilidh Vernal. 

Trolltag: ghostlyCensurer, predeterminedSpectre [GC, PS]

‘ghostlyCensurer’ refers to her being the ‘watcher’ from far afield. Unspotted and unnoticed by most everyone. As well as her silent analysis on the suburb which she lives above of. ‘preterminedSpectre’ is pretty similar. ‘Predetermined’ In her need to know the future and 

extrasolarObserver instead, maybe? Extrasolar implies a far distance away but also references her light theme, and Observer links back to the watcher thing but just… sounds better with extrasolar than Censurer does. Oooooh or extrasolarAugur to reference her interest in things like tarot… 

Typing Quirk: Replaces ‘E’ with ‘3’ (Reference to her lusus, who is a Cerberus so three heads) Uses the ‘V●ᴥ●V’ Dog Puns wherever possible Punctuation in packs of three (!!!, ???, …) (Especially when excited about a certain topic)

I think the 3 could still work with the Papillon mom because 3 looks like a butterfly’s wing. 

Blood Colour: Cerulean

Symbol: True Scorpio (Originally ‘Venus’) (Venus can also mean ‘Morning Star’ (connected to the meaning of Lucifer, which again connects to the light theme (light bearer) and well as her Cerberus lusus))

Lusus: Corgiberus (The Pack-Mind) Slightly air-headed but rather friendly. Can be intimidating due to her massive size and loud barking noises. The closer trolls come to approaching the hive the louder it starts barking. It can reach levels that deafen the odd rust or brown blood.

Alternate (this one might keep with the Cerulean colour more) Butterbark A giant ‘Papillion’ or butterfly dog. It has it’s ears set as it’s wings and three giant compound eyes, two in the standard place at the side and one acting as a ‘third eye’ in the centre. It’s very friendly despite its oddly terrifying features. (Butterflies are thought to be spirits of the dead watching over you in many cultures and circles. This links back to her ‘ghostly’ and ‘spectre’ trolltags)

I like the Papillon idea a lot better! Butterbark… Barkflymom… I like the idea of this cute papillon dog with earwings that is also a little bit armored. Friendly, cute, a pal. Butterflies are also often references to the Impact of the past and also the potentiality of the future, so I think this adds some additional layers to her theme. 

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Strife Specibus: Stationarykind (Using several types of stationary, pens, pencils, rulers etc. Although she is generally less skilled at using each one of them, it’s also what she uses in order to note down a lot of her findings and obviously more practical than tossing a book.)

I actually like the idea of her using Tarotkind. She pulls a combination of cards and has to utilize the attack that is produced by that combination. Example: Say she pulls a two of swords, a two of wands, and the magician: she’d have access to a 2x1 sword, both sides of which can function as a magical focus. But if she pulled the hermit, the fool, and a three of cups, she might summon three old banged up juggling cups. 

Fetch Modus: Zodiackind Yep all 48 signs. She builds up association between objects and what she uses to read people/the future and they go into 1 of 48 different ‘sections’. Although, she has to work out which section the object has actually gone into herself.

You should have this visually look a bit like a constellation map and each of the items is a “star” in a constellation. She has to map out the entire constellation and then pick out the appropriate star corresponding to the item she wants to retrieve. 

Powers: None (As typical for most highbloods)

She gets Blueblood Psychic Resistance, at least. 

Title: Sylph of Light

(Explanation for this will be lower down and referenced in her personality/interests) 

I actually have to protest that she’s a Seer of Light. A passive observer, someone who utilizes mediums through which to obtain and analyze information. Someone who searches for information, cares deeply about collecting and understanding it… But it would also push her to learn how to engage with other people, because passive classes are all about the good of the group.

Land: Land of Blockades and Gleam (LOBAG)

Land of Meteor and Twinkle. I wanted to give her a LOMAT acronym to reference Vriska as well. It could be a landscape covered in observatories, with the meteors circling the planet also metaphorically referencing her distance from others. AND meteors give off light. Fun.

Denizen: Paris (Paris kidnapped Helen of Troy, which is where the route of her name comes from, it makes sense that they would be a challenge for her.)

Here might be where you use the name Aphrodite instead. An image-focused deity who is somewhat motherly… It was Aphrodite’s fault that Paris kidnapped Helen of Troy, so it feels more appropriate to use a deity.

Dream Moon: Prospit

Hive Location: A hill overlooking a suburb, her hive being mostly apart from any others. It has a large window which has a view of the town in almost it’s entirety. She’s looking upon the lives of others without interacting with them. It’s fit with a telescope which can be used to look at the stars and planets above. Or sometimes ca be used to look across various sections of the planet (but not too far.) She finds herself analyzing (or over analyzing) these things.

Hive: Generally, a large mess; mostly consisting of various half written essays and complaints, half read books and other materials strewn across floors and desks. Many plush animals also lay around the hive, a lot of them rather pristine (she uses them as kind of a comfort, rather than to demonstrate anything). Doesn’t stop her from losing her a lot of her supplies, she’s really good at loosing things.

Personality/Backstory/Interests: Ellara has spent most of her time observing people and observing the lives of others through her own eyes rather than interfering with them or making them better in any way. She’s a hermit with an interest in people but with no actual friends. She generally considers herself a critic and sometimes finds herself critiquing several types of literature across troll history. She’s fond of finding metaphors within them, even if they make little sense or are just kind of esoteric. She has a hard time completing everything she intends to or sets out to do, however, either due to her fear of failure, lack of commitment or general sense of laziness.

Although her main issue perhaps that she is too pushy and critical and this leads her to come off as unwelcoming, defensive and antagonistic. Since she’s not all that good at getting on with people, mostly due to her isolation and common state of introspection (even if it leads to her frequently doubting herself). She finds it hard to tell when her criticism is welcome or needed and gets herself worked up when she dosen’t really need to. She’s really quick to think of the worst possible outcome to a situation and isn’t afraid to remind people of it. She states she would rather be ‘right or pleasantly surprised’ which gives her an air of arrogance. She’ll rather plan out her steps into the unknown and gather the knowledge she needs before attempting anything, she’s very wrapped up in analysing the possibilities of the future and the past. Whether this be through scientifically trying to analyse trends or through using tarot cards and analysing star placements. Although she has been known to make the occasional impulsive decision, normally leading to bad consequences.

I do like the idea of this character being an outside watcher. I want to push that a little bit by having her fascinated with people. Enjoying researching their histories and who might be related to them and all that. Gathering useful data that she can then interpret through the lens of her zodiac signs or tarot cards. Create a kind of fascination with ancestors in general. Knowing their histories and how people are likely to mirror those lives…  

And I think you should have her be just a little interested in pirates. Maybe not interested in sailing or combating herself, but maybe have her be interested in the history of them, the strategies they employed, and the superstitions they believed in. 

In fact, having her be superstitious in general may be a good idea? 

If you want her to be a prospit player, you can’t have her decisions be Too analytical or rational. I think you should make her have just a sort of bet-on-it feeling with regards to fate and destiny and the future-seeing objects and predictors she uses. She can be ultimately worried about the decisions she’s making, but have her fall back on these interests and habits instead of Thorough Thought. 

And now for design!:

Oof my tablet started throwing a fit halfway through this so it’s not my best work, but here we go! 

Horns: We never see horns that are different heights and it was a little too obvious that her horn was just Vriska’s horn with a bit erased. So I gave her some horns that look like butterfly wings and antennae. 

Hair: Just a few more fun flips for effect. 

Glasses/eyes: I edited them so that there was a jeweler’s magnifying glass over her one eye, along with a light attachment. I thought it was a good way to reference her wanting to analyze things closer. I also edited her makeup to be a bit less thick, got rid of the eyebrows, and edited her left pupil to be shaped a bit like a butterfly. I wanted to create 3 pupils to keep with the three concept. 

Mouth: I thicked the lips a little and added some fangs. 

Scarf: I wanted to create some visual difference between her jacket and Vriska, so the best way to do that for me was… make a scarf. Like the kind fortune tellers wear in movies, with the tassels. 

Pants/Shoes: I redid them entirely, mostly because everything looked a bit clunky and proportionally off? I wanted to keep the kind of platform shoes, though, so I did that. I also added some butterfly wings to her shoes in white. 

Thanks for sharing her!

-CD

[sly2o]

What's in a(n episode) name? (Season 4)

It’s fun to play the guessing game of what all these episode titles for season 5 we’re seeing mean. I thought it might be worth looking back at season 4′s episode names to help form a base for our guessing for season 5.

Each episode has lots of reasons for a possible name so I bolded what was the stand out item to me that most obviously pointed to the episode name.

Also - I have knowledge gaps! Especially literary ones. I’ll update if some of you have edits/suggestions on things I missed. 

“Echoes”

A nod to the character echo

An echo is “a close parallel or repetition of an idea, feeling, style, or event.” In this episode we see echoes of numerous past villains and fights, but also the beginning of the conflicts that will frame this season. 

“Heavy Lies the Crown”

From The 100 wikia: The episode title is a common misquote of the line “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown”, from Shakespeare’s play Henry IV, Part 2. It was picked because it sounds better.

Likely applies to multiple characters. Particularly:

Bellamy Blake. His tie-breaking decision on whether to destroy the hydrogenerator.

Roan. New in his position as king in Polis, dealing with an uncertain group of ambassadors including one who plans to challenge him to a duel.

Clarke. Learning how to motivate people to get to work repairing the ship, burdened by the knowledge it won’t save everyone.

“The Four Horsemen”

A reference to “The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse” a concept from the Christian Bible. 

I ended up on a really interesting dig through lots of stuff on this topic. But the piece that stood out to me was this: The Four Horsemen are released when four of seven “seals” are broken. This is interesting in how the show departed from this to make it 12 seals - aligning it with the 12 stations on the Ark and the 12 grounder clans. 

From The 100 wikia: The cult also used the hashtag “#fourhorsemen”, from which this episode derives its title.

It's unclear if this was the set designers/prop makers making a nod to the episode name or instruction from the writers. (Perhaps someone else knows more about which is most likely?)

The Four Horseman are typically portrayed as Pestilence, War, Famine, and Death. All of these are portrayed in this episode.

Pestilence - Luna and her sick kru showing up at Arkadia

War - Ilian and company’s war on technology. The seeds of war between Arkadia and Azegeda are also sewn in this episode due to the decision to not tell Azegeda about Alpha Station only being able to support 100 people.

Famine - Only 100 people can survive with severe rationing, prompting the demand that Clarke make The List.

Death - the skeletons found in the fake Second Dawn Bunker. The Floukru members who died. The person Octavia murdered. Lots of people.

“A Lie Guarded”

From The 100 Wikia:

The title has two meanings:

It’s from the quote, “An excuse is worse and more terrible than a lie, for an excuse is a lie guarded.”[7]This might be a reference to Clarke hiding the truth about Alpha Station only being able to support 100 people out of the 500 Sky People.

It is also a visual pun: “A Lie Guarded” → “ALIE Guarded”, referencing the drones guarding A.L.I.E.’s Island.[8]

As the Wikia says - is very likely a reference to the cap on how many people can live in Arkadia. Particularly it seems like a reference to when Monty berates Clarke saying “you’re the one going too far and using the same old justification, it’s all for my people”. 

May also reference

the excuses Clarke is seen giving to the crowd of people for why certain people were and were not picked for the list

Jasper roasting Clarke for lying to everyone.

“The Tinder Box”

This quote about Arkadians the Azegeda: “This is a tinder box. One shot, and we’ll be at war.” - Monty.  

Arkadia going down in flames.

“We Will Rise”

note: apparently was supposed to be called “Fight or Flight”. But we’re going to stick with the final name they chose.

Self-referencing to their own quote “from the ashes we will rise”. In the last episode what seemed like their only hope for survival went up in flames. 

The focus of this episode is the need to bring hydrazene to Becca’s lab so that they can get to space to create nightblood syrum. In this case “rise” is to rise up through the atmosphere into outer space. 

“Gimme Shelter”

A reference to the Rolling Stones song of the same name. The lyrics of Gimmie Shelter are about the Vietnam war and the the horrors that came with that war. 

This is the first episode where black rain comes down, causing a stampede towards the current source of shelter. We see the horrors of what happens when shelter isn’t found.

“God Complex”

Reminder: a God Complex references someone who believe they are above the rules of society and should be given special consideration.

Many people. Particularly:

Abby for experimenting on humans. 

Clarke for ignoring the group and injecting herself with the experimental nightblood serum.

Abby again for ignoring the group and breaking the machine they would have used to test Clarke. 

Emori, for being discovered for having lied to the group about the identity of the grounder that was killed.

The connection between Second Dawn Bunker and the Grounder culture being revealed through a Grounder Prayer. (Niylah saying “From the ashes, we will rise” at the funeral for the people who died in the black rain). This is another visual pun: the Second Dawn Bunker is revealed to be an underground complex under a place of worship.

“DNR”

“DNR” stands for “Do Not Resuscitate”, which is used in the medical field to indicate that a patient does not want CPR or any advanced cardiac life support if their heart stops.

This episode features multiple characters in one form or another saying they don’t intend to live past praimfire. They include Jasper, Raven, and Harper and a few others.  

“Die All, Die Merrily”

A second reference to Shakespeare. This time it's King Henry the Fourth Part 1. The full line is: “Doomsday is near; die all, die merrily.” 

A reference to the conclave that dominates this episode where multiple reoccurring guest stars and one main cast member die.

Numerous pieces of the play appear in a variety of forms in this episode. 

Scenes from the climatic battle of this play are also similar to the fight in the show.

Apparently a reference to Octavia being Henry IV? but I don’t know enough about the play to pick that out.

“The Other Side”

This episodes name refers to the saying “See you on the other side” which is said by numerous characters throughout the series, but especially Jasper - including before he was supposed to die in the pilot.

This quote is said by Jasper to Monty before he dies.

Another visual pun: different factions are trying to get to the other side of the second dawn bunker doorway.

“The Chosen”

Skaikru must choose who will stay in the second dawn bunker.

Possibly a reference to Judaism and the “chosen people”. However I do not know enough about this religion to speak to any quotes or finer points on this.

“Praimfaya”

The villain of the season arrives.

Some quick thoughts on the name versus episode content

1. I know we are drawn to point to an episode name and say “it’s about that individual” in the case of Season 4 when I look at all the things I bolded... they seem to really speak about the delinquent's relationship with the villain for the season.

The names are about how the strife incurred on the delinquents by the villain (”DNR”, “The Other Side”, “Gimmie Shelter”), how our heroes are planning to defeat the villain ( “A Lie Guarded”, ”God Complex”, “We Will Rise”), how their plans failed (“Heavy Lies the Crown”, “The Four Horseman”, “The Tinder Box”) and then at the very end the name of the villain (”Praimfire”). 

I might be shoehorning some of those in.

2. The writers like their visual puns (”God Complex”, “A Lie Guarded”, “The Other Side”)

3. Interesting that they did two Shakespeare quotes from plays that bookend each other. 

Anyways that’s it. Let me know if I missed anything. 

[jovial-insanity-blog]

Gravitational Pulls // Min Yoongi

Warnings: Language, Fluff overdose

A/N: So this is a Suga/Min Yoongi/Agust D reader insert fic, but I never actually mentioned his name anywhere in there (oops) so I figured I would clarify that before hand. Okay, you may continue my dears.

•••

The air is light tonight. Wind caressing exposed cheeks with chilled fingers, stars begining to sprinkle their dreamy light over the city park. Eyes glisten with the reflection of night lights. The moon, not out in its full glory yet, but it’s eerie glow leaking through the cloud cover enough to reveal itself. Stunning, as always, is the night sky. Just as stunning, perhaps, as what occurs beneath.

…………………………

“Isn’t it fascinating?” a feminine figure thinks aloud, a broad, crooked smile glistening pure white in the surrounding darkness. Her company raises an eyebrow, curious at the path his friends mind is wandering. “Isn’t what fascinating?” he ventures casually, continuing to stare at the dotted sky.

The girl sighs, leans back into the arm around her shoulders. It’s pleasant, the gentle presence of another persons warmth to chase away the nights chill, and she hums lightly before responding with a gentle, “The way that… everything that could be crashing down on us from up there, is suspended by something that, really, we can’t even see.”

A gentle smile comes to the man’s face at the words, hood slipping off as he turns to the young woman at his side. Of course that’s what she came up with, he smirks to himself, staring admiringly at the top of her head. Shes always coming up with nonsense like that, blowing his mind time and time again with how intensely philosophical she can be. “..How.” he voices aloud, though it was meant to be more of a thought. She backs off slightly in order to face him properly, confusion written on her pretty features. For a moment, he mourns the warmth that seeps away with her movement. The safety of another human by his side, comforting and gentle and reassuring in the semi-daekness. Though its lack of presence is disapointing, he also cant help but take another precious moment to admire her unintentional beauty. Moonlight now uncloaked coating her bare face in a pale glow as her brow creases, head tilting ever-so-slightly to the left, just like it always does when shes unsure of something. He could gaze at her for hours, if only she would allow him.

“How… , what?” she questions quietly, taking in his features just as he does hers, making sure to note the small smirk lingering like it always does after he smiles, and the flicker of passing emotions working behind his eyes that she so adored being able to decipher.

He chuckles to himself, shaking his head with sudden bashfulness that makes his ears go red from more than just the chill, “How do you do that?”

The creases on her brow increase in depth, revealing the lasting confusion to the man quietly obsessing over the way her lips press themselves into a harsh line that starkly contrasts with the small wrinkles appearing on her nose. Curse whatever the hell made her so cute, seriously. Did they want to ruin his ability to concentrate? Because if so, congratulations to them. It worked..

“Er, you’re gonna have to be a bit more precise with that one snowflake.” is her returning quip. He wrinkles his nose. “Do what?”

She suppresses a giggle at his reaction to the nickname, knowing he likes the term - though he insists he despises upon its childish nature. He tends to be like that about a lot of things, she’s noticed over the years; but she can, and has always been able to, see through the protective shield he’s made around himself. And he does, and always has done, the same for her.

“I thought I said not to call me that, ya prick.” he retorts, lightly smacking her shoulder as she laughs. “But seriously, how do you do it? Look at something and just BAM,” he attempts a (rather poor) impression of an explosion, “profound message, just from staring into space - quite literally. ”

“Was that pun intended.” is her immediate reaction, still laughing light heartedly as his cheeks begin to blush, hard. He chuckles along with her, messing idly with one of the cords on his hoodie, “Uhm, no, actually - for once.”

They both sit without conversation for a while, just letting their laughter gradually fall and rise again with the fluctuating eye contact until they finally, finally get a grip on themselves.

“I don’t know, by the way.” the girl whispers, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over the atmosphere, “how I do that, I mean. It just kind of…, comes to me, I guess. For whatever reason.” she chuckles nervously, gesturing randomly into thin air. “But, hey, you know what that reminded me of?”

Humming, he realizes that she’s leaning her head on his shoulder again. Suddenly - and deffinitely unrelated to any other preemptive thought whatsoever - his head is, without explination, over her own. It takes a second for his eyes to slip closed, but they do. And when they do, he relaxes. He breathes in. And is in turn overwhelmed by fatigue, and the scent of vanilla shampoo.

“It.. reminds me, of something." She whispers.

"Mm?"

"It - it reminds me of love.”

..Oh. And, he’s wide awake again. “Huh?”

“Love,” she repeats, lightly nestling her head into his chest. “How even though the world can be crashing down on someone, love can keep them suspended just enough as to not let their entire galaxy implode. ”

As the words float around in his brain, he realizes just how right she is, and just how whipped he really is for one of his best friends. How well she keeps him suspended, comforting in times of near implosion and encouraging even when everything was aligned. And she knew - she knew exactly where she was directing that little realization the moment she thought it, having known for a good while now that he was her oxygen in a universe lacking of air. She knew this, yet made no moves in particular to advance in any way. She loved him, carried him not close to her heart but inside of it, and he felt the same, though she was yet unaware.

And she anxiously awaits his reply, not knowing just how bloody hard that statement just hit him. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had a concussion if he was honest, brain whirring around the words tumbling like waves over and over again in his mind until, not thinking, he mumbles out a small, quiet, “You keep me suspended.” and immediately sticks his face in her hair, terrified of her reaction. She’s his best friend, he might have just completely ruined their friendship, fuck why did he do that​ how stupid could he g-

“You keep me suspended, too. ” Oh. Well that wasn’t… quite what he was expecting. She smiles into his side just as he smiles into her hair, squeezing her shoulders - just because he can.

“That was, by far, the cheesiest thing I’ve ever taken part in. ” he laughs, earning a slap to the chest (even though she’s laughing too).

“Shut up, you love me. Jerk. ”

And he does. He really, really does.

–

It’s two days and five hours later (neither of them were counting, shut up Tae) when they’re in the same positions, but this time on the couch in the dorm, watching some cliche ‘scary movie’ with the Maknae’s and Jin because they were concerned about how much the two of them spent in their rooms or just not generally socializing. In all honesty, neither of them minded. They got to spend time together for the first time since they walked home from that midnight confession two and a half days ago, and even though the movie wasn’t the best, they enjoyed it. [You guys didn’t even watch it! You just cuddled on the couch and made our stomachs sick with your cuteness] Taehyung shut up. [It’s true and you know it!] Yeah, yeah, okay. So it was nice, besides the fact the movie was trash. They got to actually be close - more so than their usual platonic half-cuddles [was it really ever platonic though? OKAY OKAY LEAVING SORRY BYE DON'T KILL ME]. Yes, it was platonic before. But, now, it wasn’t. And it was probably supposed to be a little awkward at first, because maybe this.. changes things. Maybe it was different now that there were titles, and comitment. But… it wasn’t. It was natural, their bodies molding against each other, worn t-shirts and sweat pants and shorts and a kinda small tank top surrounding them in a sea of fabric and comfort as she placed her head beside his and he wrapped his arm around her waist. And finally, their universes came together, and they became each other’s gravity.

•••

Hello! Admin Bre here - this is my first post on here and I’ve done it on my phone, so apologies if the format or anything is weird (please tell me if it is and I’ll try to fix it asap)! Hopefully you enjoyed the massive fluff ball I’ve created - this isn’t my writing at its best, so I’m a little hesitant about posting, but I’m doing it anyways because screw it. Might as well XD so, yeah. (I’ve done some editing now, so its slightly less shit :) ) If you have any criticism or comments or suggestions on what I should do next, go ahead an leave me an ask and I’ll answer as soon as I remember to! Byeeeeeeeee

[amberlynnmurdock]

Here, There And Everywhere

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Genres: angst, hurt/comfort, smut

Words: 4067

Warnings: Smut, NSFW

Summary: You and Daryl meet once again at the Hilltop Colony after being separated for too long. Feelings are brought up, and something happens between the two of you that means the world. Based off of this request. You and Daryl aren’t romantically together!!! Until you are. 

Notes: title inspiration goes to the beatles. although while writing this i listened to ‘warm foothills’ by alt-j and ‘candles’ by daughter. beatles song fits it too. also it turned out really long. this is my first smut piece guys omg pls be gentle it’s my first time pun intended enjoy!!! 

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Daryl latched himself onto you the moment he pulled back from an embrace with Rick. It only took one look from you for Daryl to completely break down into tears. You pull him against you and run your fingers through his hair. His face is buried deep in the crook of your neck. He inhales deeply, as if regaining strength.

“I’m here,” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He’s shaking as he holds onto you tightly. Suddenly, he pulls back, and you meet his soft blue eyes. You are so relieved that he is here, that he is okay. Daryl gently headbutts you in the shoulder and you hold him again, and you find yourself never wanting to let go. He wraps his arms around you and holds you tight against him. You feel his tears fall onto your neck. Your tears are coming down in streams on your cheeks. All that time Daryl was at Negan’s sanctuary, you felt hollow. They took him from you, they took Daryl from his family–but they could never take the fighter out of Daryl himself.

Daryl lets go of you and looks at you. You place your hands on either side of his face and wipe his tears away. He moves his hands to your wrists and gently pulls your hands off, instead intertwining his fingers with yours. You rest your head on his chest and breathe a sigh of relief. He is here.

He’s holding you, and you’re pretty sure everyone around you is watching, both smiling and crying. His arms feel warm and strong as they always did and it never felt so good to be encased by them. Whenever you were with Daryl, everything always felt so right in the world. It felt like the stars were aligning, like everything was falling into place–and for a while, you forget that nearly everything in the world has fallen apart. You always had that with Daryl: that certainty. He gave you a perpetual feeling. Something you thought you’d never feel again when you were thrust into this world.

The entire group comes together and walks up into the main building at the Hilltop. You’re walking next to Daryl, and you’re surrounded by the people you’ve grown to call your family. You felt positive, and it was because you were all back together. Nothing could stop you as a group. Nothing.

Throughout the entire discussion upstairs in Gregory’s office, you and Daryl are standing near each other. The two of you have been apart for too long. You were afraid that if you looked away, Daryl would be gone again. You were nervously fiddling with the hem of your shirt until you felt Daryl’s hand on yours. You looked at him and he gave you a reassuring nod.

Rick and Maggie were discussing the group’s next moves. You pitched in as well and same with Daryl. This was happening; it had to happen. You all needed to fight Negan and his men. He had to pay the price for what he has done. You all had to fight for Glenn and Abraham.

The day was soon to lose its light. When you had arrived with Rick and everyone at the Hilltop Colony, you didn’t have the intentions of staying, but now that you knew that Daryl was here, your heart felt a gentle tug at the thought of even leaving.

“You’re good to stay here?” Rick asked you, placing a comforting hand on your arm.

You glanced over at Daryl and nodded. “Yeah,” you smiled softly, “I am.”

Rick squeezed your arm and pulled you in for a hug, “We’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“Alright. Give Judith a kiss for me, okay?”

Rick, Michonne, Carl, Rosita, and Tara left the Hilltop Colony. You turned around and saw Daryl approaching you.

Suddenly a crushing sense of relief spread throughout your chest. You were so overcome with emotion that you began to cry once again. You buried your face in your hands and felt Daryl’s arms around your body, holding you tight.

“I’m here,” He repeated your words from before and you melted into his touch. His voice sounded raspy yet gentle.

When evening finally settled, you and Daryl were inside the trailer he was given to stay in. Maggie and Sasha said you can stay with them in their trailer tonight, but for now, you were with Daryl.

You’re both on the couch. His head rested in your lap as your fingers ran through his hair, your motions nimble. It was silent. You waited for Daryl to say anything about what he had gone through, and if he didn’t, you understood completely. He hadn’t said anything yet.

Daryl was basking in your presence. He always felt so calm whenever you were near, and he appreciated the affection you gave him. He’s become much more comfortable in terms of affection. He’s craved it. And after being tortured, hurt, and broken, Daryl absolutely needed comfort. You always gave it to him.

You looked down at him. Daryl’s hand rested on your left knee, his arm drawing a bridge between your legs. He rubbed your skin through your jeans in circular motions. You trailed your fingers from his hair to his shoulder. One of his scars peeked out from the sleeveless buttoned shirt he wore, and you lightly ran your finger over it, soon to return your hand back to his dark locks.

“Are you okay?” You ask him. He shifted slightly in your lap, pausing his circular motions for a moment.

“I’ll be fine,” Daryl replies. It’s not convincing but it’s the best he can give. You take a shaky breath and bite your lip. He speaks again,

“What about you? How ya been? It’s been a while,” Daryl sits up and meets your eyes, the warmth from your legs disappearing as he left them. His hand is still resting on your left thigh.

“I just–these past few weeks have been the hardest I’ve ever had to live through,” You tell him. He looks at you with such intensity, though it’s a look you’ve seen before. You continue, “I was so, so terrified of what they–he–could have done to you. I didn’t know if–and God, seeing you like that in those clothes when he came to Alexandria, as if he was just doing it out of spite, just killed me,” Daryl is silent as you go on, “And it just reminded me of everything we’ve been through together. I thought how it couldn’t just end there. I’ve always felt this way, but it  reminded me of how much you mean to me and how much I could not bare to lose you. I needed you back,” You spoke from your heart and it is the rawest you’ve ever been with Daryl, which is a strong statement to make, considering you and Daryl have shared so many honest, vulnerable moments together. This seemed a little different, like you were confessing something you’ve been holding inside for a long time; something you didn’t even know was a confession to even make. Telling him you love him didn’t seem like a confession, it felt like the thought had always been there, just never voiced.

Daryl pulls his hand away from your thigh and holds your chin between his thumb and index finger, gently grazing your skin. Silent tears escape your eyes; there was nothing left to say yet there was still so much you felt like you needed to. You didn’t know what it was that you needed to tell him– until he wiped your tears away. It was something that he has done before, but you are looking at the situation in a new light–a more clearer light. Your heart is beating fast out of nerves, and a warmth spreads throughout your chest as Daryl cups your face and leans in a bit closer to you. You push his hair out of face, giving you a better view of his sky blue eyes.

Daryl’s heart feels heavy in his chest. He knows what you’re trying to say, and it’s something he’s always felt deep inside, too. It’s something he’s always been afraid to come to terms with. Maybe it was silly: the fear of immediately losing you immediately after he would confess his love for you. Shit just happened like that, he thought. But the events that have happened seemed to diminish that thought all together. Daryl was taken from Alexandria, from his group, from you–he hadn’t even told you how he felt about you yet, and here you were, telling him something about how you felt. It was a different situation where your places were reversed: the one thing he was afraid of happening to him, happened to you in a different way. You thought you had lost him, but he hadn’t even told you his feelings yet.

If he wants this, if he truly, deeply, wanted you, he couldn’t be afraid of that anymore. There simply wasn’t time for it.  And he was tired of seeing you so torn. Hell, he was tired of seeing everyone so torn. Everyone was just so tired. It’s why he wants to fight back, why Rick wants to fight back, and Michonne, and you, and everyone else.  

Daryl is still for a moment. His hand is still on your face. He brings himself closer to you, though his movements are slow. Daryl moves closer to you and you can almost feel his body heat radiating off of him. He places his arm around your waist and slightly pulls you closer to him, his hand still caressing and holding your face. You’re so close that your noses are almost touching and when you just can’t take the tension anymore, you close the space between your faces and kiss Daryl on his lips. He instantly, more so urgently, returns the kiss and presses his lips to yours: it’s passionate and slow and gentle. Daryl’s aching for more of your touch because it’s been the only thing he’s craved since you introduced him to such affectionate ways before this first kiss with each other.

He pulls back.

“Ya mean everything to me. Everything,” Daryl tells you in a hoarse voice. He needs you to know this.

“I love you, Daryl,” You reply softly.

Daryl remembers a time when he was afraid of that word. Your voice is so certain, and maybe Daryl would wonder why, but for once, he doesn’t. He accepts it. Whatever obstacles are thrown your way, he knows that nothing can tear you down, as long as you’re together. You have each other.

“I love you, Y/N,” Daryl says. He kisses you and cups your face in the palm of his hand.

He pulls his hand away from your face and holds you at the small of your back, his other arm pulling you closer against him. Your right hand moves up to cup his face as the kiss deepens. Daryl lets out a soft grunt as you open your mouth to grant him access to your tongue. His heart is so full that a tear escapes his eye, mixing with your own that are now falling freely. Daryl pulls back, wanting this to last. He wants to remember every bit. He wants to remember how you look and God, you look so beautiful with your hair disheveled and your face glowing. He looks deep into your eyes as he turns his head slightly to kiss the palm of your hand, the one that is cupping his face, and he makes his descent. Daryl’s lips leave kisses from the palm of your hand, to your wrist, to the beginning of your forearm before he stops and takes his other hand and finds the nape of your neck, bringing you closer to him once again, and kissing you deeply.  

Daryl kisses your lips with passion. He brings his lips to the corner of your mouth, kissing you gently. From there, he makes his way to your jaw, peppering kisses along the way. His lips trail from your jaw to your neck. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you hold him close, relishing in the way his lips feel on your skin. He reaches a sensitive spot behind your ear and kisses you softly. Your heart is fluttering in your chest as he kisses your neck some more, leaving a love bite on the way.

“Daryl,” You let out breathlessly, your eyes closing from the pleasure his lips brought you.

He pulls back, “Yeah?” His voice is low yet surprisingly unsure. Daryl wants to make sure that this is something you want; something you’re comfortable with. He pulls back from your neck and you meet his eyes, nodding your head.

“I’m okay,” You answer, and Daryl kisses the corner of your mouth, “I just–this means a lot.”

Daryl nods, “I know. It means a lot to me, too.” Daryl wants you to know that what is about to happen isn’t just what it is, it’s more to him than that. And it’s more to you, too.

He kisses you softly on your lips. Your noses touch as Daryl looks at your collarbone, as if contemplating something inside. Suddenly, Daryl brings  you up in his arms and you wrap your arms around his neck. He carries you to the bed and sets you down gently.

Daryl brings you to the edge of the bed, his hands running tenderly up and down your back. He is kneeling on the floor before you, in between your legs. Daryl’s holding you with his hands on your waist, looking into your eyes.

“Ya trust me?” Daryl asks, and you almost laugh at the question.

“Of course,” You tell him breathlessly, pushing his hair out of his face.

Daryl rubs your sides with his hands. He keeps his left hand on your waist, and with his right, he slowly runs his fingers from your waist to your stomach, in an agonizing way. His fingers finally reach the button of your jeans. Daryl unbuttons it and meets your eyes. You give him a reassuring nod. He then continues to unzip your jeans slowly. Clutching the waistband of your jeans with his hands, Daryl slowly pulls them off. Goosebumps appear over your legs as his knuckles brush over your skin. The only thing you’re wearing is your long sleeve shirt and panties. His gentleness and slow kisses only increase your growing wetness.

Daryl kisses both your knees and begins his ascent up your right leg. He trails kisses all the way up your leg and you lean back on the bed with your arms, dipping your head back, savoring the feel of his lips. He takes your legs delicately in his hands and spreads them as he continues to kiss you and you wonder to yourself what else he’s going to do and–

“Oh, fuck,” Your breath hitches in your throat as you mutter the words. Daryl lays his tongue on your wetness through your panties, and you spread your legs wider, letting yourself lay on the bed completely. You take a huge sigh and whip your head up as Daryl brings his tongue away. You know he’s about to ask if you’re okay.

“Don’t stop,” You tell him and he smiles a little, returning to your hot center.  Daryl pulls your panties off quicker than lightning and doesn’t hesitate in licking up your folds. A warmth that starts from the bottom of your stomach spreads all the way up to your chest. You close your eyes and tug a little at Daryl’s hair, encouraging him further. He grunts in response, continuing to lick your wetness. You moan softly as his lips softly nip at your clit.

Daryl’s lapping at your sex and you take deep breaths, wanting the feeling to last forever. His tongue feels hot and wet and you take your hands and tug at his hair and push him closer. You feel his nose brush over your clit and you gasp lightly at the feeling. You’re taking heavier breaths now as you move your head in response to the ecstasy you feel spreading through every bit of your sex.

“Daryl,” You whisper his name in pleasure. Daryl’s tongue is working wonders on you as he continues to stroke you with his tongue. His pace changes from fast to torturously slow. His hands are gripping your waist as he delves his tongue in your folds and you let out a moan as you begin to feel a wave of pleasure course through your entire body.

“Oh,” You let out a little louder than you realized as you finally come with sweet release. Your heart rate is rapid and your entire body is shaking from the orgasm. Daryl wipes his mouth and kisses your inner thighs faintly, holding you steady.

Your breathing is slowing down and your heart flutters as you can feel Daryl tug at the bottom of your shirt. You naturally lift your arms up for Daryl to pull your shirt off, and he smiles a little. He removes it fleetly and doesn’t hesitate in kissing your entire body. He starts from above your navel, trailing his lips up your entire abdomen, leaving a softer, longer kiss between your covered breasts. Daryl moves his hand to the small of your back and lifts you further up the bed, so your head is resting on the soft pillow. You realize that Daryl is still wearing his clothes. He’s leaning over you now, his arm resting on the left side of your head, his other grazing his fingers over the right side of your face. You reach up and push his hair out of his face, giving you a gorgeous view of his sky blue eyes. Reaching your fingers down to the buttons of his shirt, you tug at the collar. Daryl nods in the slightest. You begin to unbutton his shirt and he reaches down to undo his belt and jeans. He tugs them off before you’re done unbuttoning his shirt. You want this to last for as long as it can. Daryl places his hand on your upper back, making you sit up a little. You’re both almost completely undressed. He quickly unclasps your bra and you shrug it off.

Daryl suddenly places his hand over yours and leans down to kiss you on your lips. The kiss is chaste and his lips linger on yours for a moment before he pulls back.

You return to unbuttoning the remaining buttons and slide Daryl’s shirt off. Your hands run over the scars that cover his back and Daryl turns his head to the side, taking a deep breath. You pull away, afraid you might’ve done something wrong.

“S’okay,” He whispers. You place your arms underneath his that are framing you and grip his shoulders, kissing them both. Daryl buries his head in the crook of your neck and you feel his lips leaving kisses all the way to your collarbone. You’ve seen Daryl’s scars before, and you remember your heart breaking as he opened up to you about his childhood. He has overcome a lot, you thought.

Daryl gently nudges your legs open and you spread them wider for him. He shrugs his boxers off and you catch a glimpse at his hard cock. You reach your hand down and lightly stroke his member before pumping it a few times. Daryl lets out a guttural moan and places his head in the crook of your neck, taking deep breaths.

Daryl has one arm keeping him steady, hovering above you and you take his other and move his hand to your right breast. He takes another deep breath and squeezes your breast, kissing your jaw. You feel him tease your entrance with the tip of his cock and he relishes in how wet you still are. You wrap your legs around his waist and he takes this as a sign. Daryl traces his cock up your slit and enters you slowly. You both moan in unison and Daryl gives you a moment to adjust to his size.

Your pussy clenches immediately around Daryl’s cock as he fills you completely, and you whimper in both pleasure and a little pain. Daryl lets out a deep husky moan as he feels how tight you are around him and the way your velvety walls encase him. His thrusts start slow; he wants to make sure you’re comfortable first. You feel your breathing quicken as you feel Daryl is so close to that spot, yet he’s still not quite there.

“Daryl,” You say his name in a breathy voice, “Please.”

He takes this and starts to thrust faster into you. You pull him tighter against you with your legs and urge him on, softly kissing his left shoulder. You start to pant as the feeling of his thickness in you rubs against your walls in the most delicious of ways; your pussy squeezes on him as he finally hits that spot.

“Oh, fuck,” You pant as he quickens his pace.

Daryl pays attention to the way you sound, the way you feel, and every hitch in your breath and moan that you make. Your mouth is slightly open as you furrow your brows. Daryl kisses your neck and he moans at the way you slightly pull his hair, mixed with your tight pussy around his cock.

Pleasure is coursing through your entire body like a tidal wave. You start to meet Daryl’s thrusts by bucking your hips up, which causes Daryl to let out a groan.

“Fuck,” he says. He kisses your jaw and you hold him tight.

Suddenly, Daryl slows his pace a little, going in with long, slow thrusts. He almost pulls out completely before slowly sliding back in, and you love it. It leaves you aching for more, and the moment lasts longer. Daryl kisses your jaw again and mumbles the words, “I love you.”

You kiss his lips quickly before pressing the back of your head into the pillow out of pure bliss as Daryl quickens his pace again. Suddenly an intense feeling of pleasure spreads from the pit of your stomach to your chest and soon, your entire body. Your face is flushed and Daryl kisses your neck as you arch your back, feeling yourself reach your climax.

Daryl wants you to finish before him, so he holds off for as long as he can as he continually thrusts into you without hesitation. He lets out a gruff moan and kisses your jaw, focusing on your breathing and your fingers in his hair.

Daryl reaches his finger down and finds your clit, rubbing it with gentle pressure. The sensation it brings you causes you to release and your pussy clamps on his cock as you climax, coming all around his member.

“Daryl!,” You moan louder as you feel your pussy quiver around his cock. All it takes is that and suddenly, Daryl pulls out and finishes on your stomach, burying his head in the crook of your neck to muffle his moans.

“Y/N,” Daryl mutters your name against your neck. He’s resting on your body and you hold him tight as he slightly shakes from the intense orgasm. You’re shaking, too. Daryl feels your breasts on his chest. You’re both a panting mess, out of breath, bodies becoming one as you both come down from your climax. Daryl rolls off of you but quickly pulls you flush against him, holding you tight and kissing your shoulders.

You’re still shaking and Daryl can feel it. He’s holding you tight against him as he places one final kiss on the back of your neck. Daryl reaches for the blankets on the bed and pulls them over you both, his arm soon returning to holding you against him.

You’re taking deep breaths now, and your body has stopped shaking. Now, you are enjoying the warmth and comfort Daryl brings you, with his arm wrapped around you and holding you tight against his body. Daryl traces small circles on your stomach with his fingers, his head above yours on the pillow. You both feel safe, relaxed, and tired. Being next to each other has never felt more right.

Daryl kisses your jaw as you start to feel yourself fall asleep. He’s not far behind you.

[smartoptionsio]

ICO REKT “Sh*t coins, that are not even worth Sh*t…”

In short ICOs are REKT… Period end of story… How did we get here? What can we do to FIX IT? I have spent the past month doing a deep dive into many different matrices of ICO prices/holdings along with how the ICO companies are progressing with their plans… In doing so I am left disgusted and dismayed of the pure greed and absolute fraud-ridden landscape that makes up our current ICO space. Many ICOs were nothing more than money grabs by greedy well-spoken liars. Hence with the realization the downward one-way ticket to ride of many of the ERC-20 Tokens, along with the magic unicorn Ethereum that shat out these magic poop coins. Smart contracts? For who? Smart for the ICO teams/sellers who raised the funds maybe, but not for the investors/hodlers of the tokens. The majority of these ICO companies will slowly sell their ETH at some point going forward and simply fold/vanish/disappear. Only a very minor few will survive the ICO apocalypse as each of them turns into the living dead… Etherum is a poisoned well of this coming ICO apocalypse IMO. I will share with you below my thoughts findings and a solution to pull Ethereum back to shining star status, btw if you are an anonymity nut, well phuck off this article is not for you. Privacy is one thing, but anonymity is the calling card of criminals/thieves in business/money.

The fundamental problem = NO ACCOUNTABILITY… 

That is the real problem of the current ICO market, there is no accountability, hence you have a high number of scams/shams with the ICO promoters/teams who’s alignment is not the same as their token holders. Sure many of the ICO teams would love to see their token value increase and do have stakes in said tokens, but in my findings, it is a secondary thought to them. They get the funds raised and the equity in the coin along with unregulated control to exact their will on the marketplace. I am horrified of just how many of them view their token holders as not investors, but rather just donators = free money for their storytelling skills. Problem is they promoted their ICOs as an

–> INVESTMENT <–

Keyword here, not as a donation as the Breitmans of Tezos would like you to believe. This attitude is why many of them will end up in court and even possibly prison. These very actions are the very bedrock of what is killing Etherum and the ICO marketplace.

*** PLEASE NOTE – Some viewers may find the further reading of this article disturbing. Parental discretion is advised. *** 

Wow, my sh*t coin is not even worth a handful of sh*t…

At least with a handful of sh*t, you have something, with ICO tokens you don’t even have that… 

Yes that is right, owning tokens in the vast majority of cases you have no equity/voting rights or anything but a token, in many cases they are not even exchange-traded as the ICO companies are often too cheap to even list them on a liquid exchanges, to add insult to injury many of these projects are not even bothering to create the product/technology they agreed to in the first place. In short, they have the money and you have their empty promises. That is why in the future and as you read further along in this article is the need to tie the token to equity/rights in the ICOs, outside of the purely conceptual nature it resides in now. Let’s take Reggie Middleton, CEO of Veritaseum, he stated emphatically in his Telegram chatroom:

 “One more time, buyers of our VERI tokens are not investors in Veritaseum. You have purchased our prepaid fees and expenses. This was clearly stated and outlined in the documents that you agreed upon purchasing the tokens from us.”

How many fellow CEO’s of the ICO landscape think this way!? Veri Veri scary, pun intended lol. If that is not bad enough Reggie wishes to bring back E-Gold which he now calls VE-Gold, uhmmm Reggie E-Gold was shut down by the U.S. government long ago, so you might want to rethink that! I wonder in the future how long it will be until we see him and others in court, all a ticking time bomb to me…

Many ICOs think of our investments as donations… 

That is right, take for example Tezos run by a nerdy couple of puppets that were at the strings of cutthroat financiers, hence all the lawsuits vs them. Recently they tried to have the lawsuit in the U.S. dismissed on the basis of their ICO being just donations, a $232 million dollar donation lol, then they wonder why they are being sued!? The judge denied that along with he prolly was rolling on the floor laughing in the back of the courtroom for an hour, is my bet. Yes, many companies are using the unregulated nature of the blockchain just for money grabs. Worse is they own large amounts of ETH from their raises still that will be future supply in the market, as many of them will fold and exit the space because they really had no other intentions outside of getting paid from the HYPE that occurred in the past. Imagine how this played out. You are an ICO come out with a white paper/coin/team etc etc, raising a large sum of ETH of which in the past was valued much higher price points from investors, you then take those funds and resell it over time into the market back at a lower price, along with in many cases they will liquidate their own coins as well. All of this adding insult to injury with no product or completion of their stated goals. But look on the bright side! We people in the crypto space are SUPER CHARITABLE!!! 

    Many ICOs if they do complete their projects, produce crap, hence validating their sh*t coin status… 

Augur another horror story that too is in court, worse with their project, which just to get a beta of their platform out, took over 3 years!? The software was not even alpha quality IMO, it looks like they hired programmers off of fiverr it was so bad. They also figured out somewhere along the line that they could not have the marketplace, because they would be sued. No Augur markets it as a protocol alone, great vision there! So here again IMO we have an example again that reaks of just a money grab, and pure incompetence at that. When you have financiers backing fools just like with Tezos you get these kinds of results. Read this if you want a further understanding of how sad this is, along with this and if that does not beat all, then take a look at the quality of the people involved such as Liston, one of the founders of Augur!?  This again looks like puppets of financiers to me. Worse they produced assignation markets which the president of my country is on!? Oh man, that p*sses me off and I hope the U.S. government has some words with them in the future.

    Look Ma I am THE FED! I can just print more TOKENS!

Showing just how bizarre and corrupt the space is with no regulation and oversite to be found, we take a look at Edenchain, who I guess took their name literally with the garden of token creation too. Oh hold on, it gets even better, look at Envion who raised $100 million, Nioooocee! Later on Matthias Woestmann, CEO of Envion was locked out of the project by his own coders! He then created a website to accuse the other team members of creating the additional tokens, along with all the problems caused etc etc. Read the statement by CEO Woestmann – yet later with a court ruling, we find it was him that created the tokens instead! https://envion-founders.org/

Wtf is all I am left with over and over again. After reading, you don’t think trust, I just get the urge to run!  Ironically both groups printed the 40% amount of additional tokens. Wonder if they use the same coders? Do they not know the dilutive effects and what a bad precedent this sets!? Do they even care? How many other ICOs will just print more tokens or who knows what interesting schemes they will come up with to feed the greed, it is not like they have to answer to anybody and certainly not their investors, oops I mean donators…

So how do we fix this and move forward… 

I can rant all day about all of the atrocities I have seen in the ICO space along with the damage I believe it will have on ETH with lingering effects out into the future.

“Vitalik Buterins biggest failure was his success…” 

I myself will not be participating in ICOs in any way shape or form until they are restructured in the future to offer token holders real value. It is not hard to fix the problems, though many won’t like this, mainly because it falls in line with the government ideology. Simply put the space needs to mature or die. These are smart contracts, let us make them really smart. Right now they are not, they are dumb to own contracts. People are no longer buying the hype of the ICO market. It is a wreck on the side of the road, of which most just gawk at in passing. Here are the 4 fundamental elements that are needed for the basis of what I will quote “Kay the CEO of Spectre” as a

TBO = Tokenized Business Offering. *

*which come with

Equity Rights

Voting Rights

KYC

Taxation

There are a few other elements we can add here to the TBO, but the four key ones are what really matter, for both the individual and government. I discussed/debated with the Kay the CEO of Spectre the past few weeks my ideas/finding of the ICO space, being he is a CEO of an ICO who I still hold in high regard, mainly because they took a dying asset class/marketplace full of corrupt players and with blockchain created a fair marketplace for its users. He too is dismayed by the space and wishes for it to correct itself in grand fashion, why can’t it? Blockchain, if you can imagine it, you can create it, or correct it.

Blockchain is in its pure nature, freedom… The freedom to correct and improve with great speed even. Kay has a pedigree/history being from the FinTech space, not just some kids/random people with an idea and backing from viperous financiers. Though even with his company’s ICO raise he admitted one of the same fundamental flaws, that those who bought their tokens own nothing of the company, though that is certainly not his mindset or actions, as he holds himself accountable and acts with fiduciary responsibility, that just about everybody else in this space does not.

The problem is

“We own a token.”

No equity, No rights, just a token… Which to me really sounds like more of a donation. So my mindset now is just that, and I have donated enough! I believe in a tokenized company like Spectre, along with their vision, they hit their goals and live by their words, though they still suffer from that fundamental flaw of the ICO, and with the actions of many others who are not like Kay, I am stuck with this picture in my head of ICO CEO/Teams busy at home binge-watching Netflix and smoking a spliff, Image of Augur specifically pops in my mind lol. Many ICOs mean well and are far from a scam, the TBO structure will allow legitimate projects to succeed and eliminate poor projects from ever starting in the first place…

To end my rant… 

This article has been more of a purge for me of the toxic buildup brewing for the past months, it has to be said and released from my system. Hey, I am an optimist, maybe some of these companies will produce something great that we just can’t see happening yet. There is a good probability for this due to the sheer amounts of crypto everybody threw at them alone. Remember ICOs can be FIXED! TBOs, as I will refer to them are the way. TBOs are not ICOs/STOs which again both are conceptual, even if the later has a few more transparencies to it, though with TBOs you can have a bit of built-in leeway, depending on the desires of the teams. You can classify TBOs being in two tranches, one being startup TBOs that are STOs and have no traction and then TBOs that are of existing private SMEs that don’t wish to access traditional equity market channels (example being a well to do family office that wants to tokenize some of their equity = great for the space) We need only change our focus and look for a solution to what obviously is not working. As space matures, we have to grow up and leave the hype/foolishness behind. Concepts/ideas alone are not good enough to be worth money. I want cold hard equity/rights and phucking accountability! Too many of these goofballs run amock because they have nobody to answer to, that has to change or else, enjoy the sh*t show. I for one will no longer be watching, time to change the channel …

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