#what could be more loving than giving someone a part of the architecture of your body

[beautifulterriblequeen]

S7 Runaan

I gotta look at him. I gotta look. What's he got

ONE:

His hair is still dungeony. He hasn't redone it. Is he expecting to meet Ethari soon and he just wants his husband's hands in his hair again, like always? Is he grossed out by his dungeon hair and doesn't want to touch it? Is he ashamed of his long assassin hair? (put it in a bun, sir!) Has he just. forgotten it's there. Dork.

His hair is waiting for Ethari, that's all there is to it.

TWO:

HE HAS A SHIRT. MY BOY. Runaan deserves dignity. It looks like a very Moonshadow shirt, navy blue and gray with swirls all over it. He's rolled up the sleeves, which is extremely hot of him. And it is a bit short at the waist, too (thank you TDP for that visible slice of Runaan's hip).

Headcanon: this is Lujanne's Rayla's own shirt and it's nice and tight and a bit too small for Runaan's tall rangy body but he'll take it because it's soft and comfy and better than nothing.

THREE:

Runaan isn't carrying his bowblade. We know Rayla has it, somewhere. Which means he is choosing not to carry it/be seen with it, in Katolis. He's making a choice to come with empty hands instead of a weapon, hoping not to be stabbed or shot on sight. Good luck with that, my man, they will NOT be happy to see you. But what else can you do to begin your amends?

I think Rayla might still have it somewhere, ready for him to use in a sudden moment of danger, but he could be doing the same thing Viren did with his staff. Viren didn't want to pick up the relic staff again because of what it represented to him - his own self, darker, harder, and making choices that hurt people. Runaan's bowblade has the same kind of weight. He may have it close to hand, but he may not want to touch it, let alone wield it, anytime soon.

That's not to say he won't be forced into a situation where using his bowblade would make things better - but also worse. I mean, this is TDP.

FOUR:

The situation that's giving him this pose may be that exact situation already. He's recovered his Hard Assassin Eyes here, even though his hands are empty and Rayla is actively guarding him with her swords. They've run into someone, or something, that's threatening them, and Rayla has to take point on defense. And Runaan is letting her, at least in this specific moment.

Who have they met? Judging by events earlier in the show, it could be Amaya again, which would add the whole layer of an Amaya vs Rayla repeat showdown at the Banther Lodge. At this point, Amaya and Rayla have hugged and become friends, nearly family. But Amaya's whole job when the assassins came was to try to save Harrow - and she wasn't in time. Being back at this location would probably put her in a very particular mood, and I don't think it'll clash well with Runaan's presence. Not at all.

Will I be getting my long-wished-for fight between Amaya and Runaan? Even if it's interrupted and no one is truly hurt, I would LOVE to see them go at each other. Their tactics are so different, I just want to see a silly lil skirmish, plssss.

FIVE:

Pure speculation here, but it's possible that Amaya and Janai flew Ezran to Katolis to help - since their hotcats are here with him against what looks to be human architecture. And then Amaya departed from Ezran's location to the Banther Lodge, possibly for supplies for the wounded and survivors. Leading to this second screenshot serving as Amaya bringing Runaan back with Rayla, and we get to see the mixed expressions of these characters. Callum's in particular - Rayla would not be parted from Runaan willingly, so she could still be standing beside him, possibly arrested with him, and Callum has to stand behind his brother the king and see her trying to defend the indefensible, her stabby dad who killed Ezran's stabby dad.

I'm adding a few more grains of sand to the scales in favor of it being Runaan because of this other screenshot from S6, which turned out to be him facing down Viren - another adult who helped ruin his life.

Anyway, whatever happens here, we will see it in four months! FOUR MONTHS UNTIL RUNAAN WITH A SHIRT Y'ALL AAAAHH

[l-in-the-light]

Chapter 1127 comments & analysis

Strawhats adventure in a mysterious kingdom uncanny valley! This chapter for some reason gives me Silent Hill-like creeps and I thought I would never say that about One Piece lol. It's filled with those tiny little things you can spot only at the corner of your eye or details that make you feel uncomfortable for a reason you can't exactly put into words. It gives similar vibe to the famous Maria scene in the maze, everything seems fine on the surface, but the vibe is offputting.

As much as I enjoy saying "I have no freaking clue what's going on and I love it", I actually do have some guess. But first let me start with the analysis, so you know what details I mean and what I actually consider offputting in this chapter, and at the end of this post I will try to put it all together into a cohesive theory:

Okay, let's start from the Giant's comment about "enormous" animals. Yeah, they're enormous and huge alright, for the Strawhats. For the Giants? They would be the size of small pets.

Yggdrasil seems suspiciously small too, it should be massive. They also make it sound like their country will disappear if Yggdrasil gets damaged, but it's supposed to be a world tree, not just "this country's tree". Whatever affects Yggdrasil would have to affect the whole world and all the different realms it supports, not just "one country".

This is not how a destroyed lego brick would look like. For those who forgot most of their childhood's toys already, the bricks have to be hollow and have proportionally shaped holes too, otherwise you won't be able to stick them together!

Weird fade to black when Nami and Usopp fell to the ground. One Piece never does things this way.

Now let's take a look at the castle, I adore it, I want it as a lego set, but that's beyond the point. This doesn't look like an actual castle, lots of those towers serve no purpose. It's like someone merged different parts together unsure what's the castle's actual function. It reminds me of very surreal things the early AI art did very often. So this borderline counts as "impossible architecture".

Now let's go for the most fun part of it: inconsistencies in Strawhats clothes, equipment and behaviour!

Nami saying "just zap it!" instead of her "thunderbolt" attack? Never happened before, no matter how stressful the situation was. That's the whole point of Nami's fight with Miss Double Finger, no matter how much her climatact was failing her and how much it put her in danger, she still shouted out every attack's name like it's a sacred ritual.

Nami's belt buckle also changed from oval to square, and her sword is missing a couple of times. Missing once could be considered a coincidence, but it's been missing 6 times! And yes I know Oda often makes blunders like that, but that's way too much and it doesn't affect only Nami.

Surprisingly enough, Nami never used Usopp as a shield before. In fact their usual interactions are exactly reversed. Reminder from Wano:

It's basically Usopp treating Nami as a shield.

It's also quite unusual for Nami not to ask about Usopp's wellbeing or not apologize to him for using him as a shield, because Nami usually cares more about his crewmates than this.

Now let's take a look at Usopp. Not only was he carried in the cat's maw before Nami helped him, he also saw the cat getting zapped. Those are the facts, right? And despite witnessing that he still thinks the cat might be an illusion that can't hurt them, which is weird, because:

Usopp is definitely more observant than that usually. His reaction should have been more along the lines of "no way, he got zapped and I felt those teeth on me just a moment ago, that was definitely not an illusion".

Also despite knowing Perona's tricks are just tricks, he's still getting scared when he sees her doing stuff like that. Usopp as we know him would not stop to test out if the illusion is real on himself. I wouldn't say he's a coward, but yeah, he is a coward. That's why we like him, right?

Usopp swearing revenge on Nami seems also a bit out of place, considering how impressed he was with Sanji in Punk Hazard. "It's fine if I get hurt, as long as Nami is fine". Usopp wouldn't react with "I'm so proud of you" if he didn't believe in same stuff, right?

Also, occassionally, Usopp's bag disappears.

Sanji's swirly eyebrow randomly switches from left to right.

Some dedicated Sanji fan on tumblr also pointed out Sanji would never say something like that, because he's deadly afraid of most, if not all, bugs. I admit I forgot about that fear of his, so I can't take credit for noticing that myself!

Also in the second picture I posted here, Sanji's attack is called epaule which means a shoulder attack. But he strikes the cat on its head, destroying the crown instead. So that's also another inconsistency.

Luffy's clearly not in G4.

Luffy's weapon randomly changes. At first he has nothing, then a sword, and finally an axe.

Also in one of the translations he says that the rabbit "was tasty enough already" and so he isn't interested in eating the cat. Like hell, Luffy would never say that line. Refusing food? No way.

Summing it up, there's like 3 inconsistencies with each of the Strawhats:

Luffy (his weapon changing, refusing food, Gear 4 attack that isn't G4)

Sanji (not afraid of bugs, his eyebrow switching, his shoulder attack landing on head instead)

Usopp (not observant/not sceptcial and suddenly brave, resentful towards Nami, also his bag is missing)

Nami (not naming her attack, not apologizing to Usopp, her sword missing)

Literally the only character I couldn't find anything wrong with was Zoro. He would definitely comment on lion turning suddenly into a cat, he would wonder where's the ship and how the rest of the crew is doing, and his attack seems accurate.

So, what can we conclude from this? I have two possible directions here. Let's start from the most likely one: Strawhats got kidnapped/spirited away by some supernatural beings. Often fairies are the ones responsible for such incidents (tho mostly kidnapping children). And coincidentally, the alcohol Strawhats drank was called "Green Fairy". It could be the first clue.

In Scandinavian folklore the equivalent of fairies or dwarfs are the trolls and giants living within the hills and mountains or in the deep forests, kidnapping humans to eat them. A troll who learned a child's true name could exert control, making them vulnerable to abduction.

Kidnapping humans to eat them? Might explain human bones scattered around!

Trolls are said to possess magical powers, like shapeshifting and creating illusions, they can transform themselves to look just like anyone, even people that you know well. They can even transform into objects, like a rock, or a ball of yarn to trick people. They also can use their powers to alter people's perceptions. They often show us illusions that seems not exactly correct, because they're based on whatever physicality the trolls themselves can imagine. Trolls sometimes put their gold in the sunlight so it retains its shine, but to prevent it from being stolen they can create illusions so the gold looks like cobwebs in people's eyes—and there are many stories of people visiting fantastic troll halls.

We definitely saw some shapeshifting happening, alright. Most people speculate it's something caused by a devil fruit powers, but it doesn't have to be :)

Trolls are often depicted as living their lives much like humans, with families and communities of their own. No one really knows how trolls truly look like, because of their shapeshifting abilities and many contradictionary accounts about their appearance. Trolls' were also said to be skilled weavers and needlewomen. If you are invited to their place, do not eat or drink or you will be stuck there. If you were spirited away, there was more than one way to protect yourself or get saved; you could use blessings, pure steel or fire against the troll. In Norse tröllskapr can mean wizardry or witchcraft. It's unknown exactly how trolls enter our reality, there are many different concepts about that.

Other possible explanations:

Huldrefolk. They are social, mischievous elf-like beings who live beneath the ground in hills or burial mounds. They often resort to kidnapping people and even forcing marriages with humans. “Huldrefolk” is actually not their true name, but a taboo name meaning “the hidden people” as if it’s dangerous to say their true name. The huldrefolk are invisible, so most people don’t actually know what they look like. Sometimes they're depicted as living normally among humans, but in their own special dwellings, other times they have their own islands on which they live, hidden from our world and perception. Occassionally they can help someone who got lost at sea and transport them to one of their hidden islands. If you find it fascinating and want to find out more about huldrefolk, I reccommend you this article.

Thjazi, the Jotun who can turn into an eagle, could have kidnapped people or giants. He's most known because of this story in which he kidnapped a goddess to steal her immortality apples, thanks to which Giants live for centuries. We do see an eagle emblem in the castle, so that could be a hint or reference to that story:

We're not in Elbaf, but in Jotunheim, one of the nine realms in Norse Mythology. That's the realm where only giants live. The description of it doesn't really fit with what we have seen so far of the "mysterious kingdom" though, it's supposed to be fiery and freezing. But it's worthy to note that the description of Ragnarök (the nordic end of the world) states that the Nine Realms are destroyed by fire and flood. And in this chapter we learn that fire is dangerous for this world and might cause it to cease to exist if it reaches Yggdrasil. Could also potentially explain the weird material everything is build from and artificial plants, it could be to prevent fires.

What we're seeing could be an otherworld, one that can easily shatter or break apart like scattered lego bricks. A shaman is a person who can travel between worlds/realms by using a hallucinogenic substance (it's usually mushrooms, but sometimes it's in a form of a drink - Green Fairy could be that), or entering a trance state by, for example, dancing or fasting. The shaman must typically undergo a ritual of death and rebirth in order to acquire their powers to cross dimensions, and we know Luffy and Zoro came back from the dead at least once already.

"Green Fairy" could be actually a drink that came from the gods, kinda like Mead of Poetry. Strawhats are just drunk, but whatever they experience will be prophetic in nature. Because there is a belief that whatever a person who is drunk says is considered true, sacred, and taken very seriously.

Now, which do I personally think it is? I have a soft spot for the otherworld idea, but it's most likely a prank done by Trolls. Strawhats seem to be have been kidnapped while drinking something possibly related to the trolls/fairies (which makes them stuck in whatever place they currently are in, which is also most likely a shapeshifted reality, an otherworld or one of those fairy islands, though it's curious there's no sea nearby). I also think the trolls shapeshifted into other Strawhats - they could turn into them because Nami called them by their names (which can explain absence of Chopper) and by doing that she gave them power to turn into them (all the troll needs is a name, after all).

I suspect Zoro (and maybe Nami) is the only real Strawhat present there right now. It might have been real Nami at the start, before she fell down and got "replaced" by a shapeshifter, while real Nami is still unconscious (tbh Nami's case is the one I'm least confident about). That's also a plausible explanation. Which means the Nami, Usopp, Sanji and Luffy we see currently are all fakes. And if that's correct, things will become even more fun in next chapters :D

One last thing I want to note: seems in this dimension animals are considered gods. We have Ear God that is a huge rabbit, Stingmores (though those might not be gods), and a Sun God and following the pattern my guess would be that Sun God is also an animal. Perhaps lion? It was wearing a crown, after all. It's not based on Scandinavian culture, but there are links between a lion and sun.

[ay0nha]

Some Unholy War | Theseus Scamander (II)

SUMMARY: You could feel the warmth of your frustration start in your chest, only to spread across your skin as goosebumps.  The windchill was harsh, but you appreciated the way Theseus noticed—always so attentive. His desires were written on his face; in any other circumstance, his jacket would become yours.

PAIRING: Theseus Scamander x f!reader  

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

WARNINGS: canon-typical things, smoking, angst, morally gray reader, mutual pining, semi enemies-to- lovers, always a protective Theseus, SLOW burn, etc.  

A/N: If you saw this originally posted...no you didn’t...I didn’t love the flashback I wrote, so I wrote a different one (which is semi-inspired by this post/idea because I love it, such accuracy @star-writes4​). Thank You @kalllistos for your patience with me <3 I have such a cute idea for the next chapter, so stay tuned hehehe...Let me know if you want to be tagged. Enjoy.

PART I, PART III, PART IV

— Years prior —

“You can join me inside, you know…” You spoke to your shadow, lighter illuminating your face in the dark alley. On your exhale, you continued your invitation, “...You’ll catch a cold out here.”

After a few heartbeats of hesitation and avoiding the growing puddles, Theseus came into the dingy reflection of the neon sign. “Not convinced my kind is welcomed…”

“Like that’s ever stopped you…” Your tinted lips perked. Theseus' apparel was enough to give away his position. Always so poised. “There are some people I’m sure you’re dying to meet...”

“I’m out of my jurisdiction here.” His hands remained in his pockets, a nervous tick that seemed to run in his family. It was a deceiving behavior, as it came across as a part of his confident stature. “...and overdue for a holiday.”

“Of course.”

Theseus’ hair perked at the humidity. The gel struggled to keep the curls at bay while rain pelted the architecture. The heavy pattern created a cool draft through the outside entryways and a whistling that challenged the music emanating from within the small club.

“Don’t look so stiff, Theseus.” You teased, but he had yet to seem very receptive. “You can be anyone you want here.”

He hummed with genuine nature that briefly peeked out. “And who are you tonight?”

Your eyes were always sharp, cutting through him easily. When you were kids, it was enough to scare him off, but Theseus became fortified. Yet, you knew how he worked just as well. He had a knack for easing you into a conversation riddled with hidden questions and desires. It was as if he softened the blow for something that he knew would end poorly.  Your frown began.

“I haven’t decided yet.” Unwavering in your response, you flicked the remnants of your cigarette into the street. Theseus swallowed his scoff at the action, but it only fueled your conviction. “Add it to my list of grievances.”

His gaze was determined, dancing around something obvious. The stack of papers on his desk most likely doubled in his absence. When he saw your name, he was ready to pass it off like any of the others. It hadn’t caught his attention until it ruminated in his mind so long that he spent hours digging through files to confirm that it really was you.

He reminisced about the old school days, expecting clues to reemerge to explain your behavior. Yet, all he could remember was how you were a few years younger—your nose always pointed to the sky in hopes of finding something more interesting than what was before you. The faded memories merged together the longer Theseus dwelled on them.

“You want to know what I think?” He prodded, waiting for your hum of encouragement.  You wore a dress made for dancing, and your lips were painted a sinfully alluring shade of red. Theseus almost succumbed to the distraction. “You’re someone out of their depth.”

There it is, you thought. The pleasantries would only last for so long until Theseus tallied your faults. You knew it was part of a greater protective character, but you’d evolved, and he favored ignoring your independence.

“Oh, Theseus…” You tutted with a sore smile, arms locked together with defensiveness. “...and here I thought you missed me.”

“What have you gotten yourself into?” He moved closer to you, trying to soothe your frown. Holding back from reaching out, Theseus persisted, “If you have a time-turner—

“We’re not in school anymore.” The argument felt juvenile, but you spat your words quickly, unwilling to meet your sentence. “I can handle myself.”

The situation was ironic due to how time ruled the very encounter. It was only a matter of time until Theseus latched onto the rumor that brought him here. And there was only so much time left before his warning would become a threat. The possession of such an item had added weight to your shoulders. It was a new sensation, and the buzz of adrenaline that came with it was irredeemable. It only worsened when you learned it came easily to you. It was a genuine skill.

You could feel the warmth of your frustration start in your chest, only to spread across your skin as goosebumps.  The windchill was harsh, but you appreciated the way Theseus noticed—always so attentive. His desires were written on his face; in any other circumstance, his jacket would become yours. But you cut him off before he could offer, clipping the argument with the truth.

“It is nice to see you, Theseus.” Just not like this, you omitted. “How’s Newt?”

“Still finding himself in all sorts of…well—you know how Newt…” His hands returned to his pockets as he shuffled slightly. “...those creatures…His creatures are doing well, I suppose…it’s always a fine way of passing time…”

Theseus wasn’t one to ramble nor participate seriously in small talk. Yet, with you mitigating the conversation, it was hard to ease back into what he had come for. Your change in topic wasn’t a distraction at all, just another dig at Theseus’ character.

“You should learn to take people more seriously.” You bit at your own defense veiled by his brother’s prospects. “Maybe then, you’d get what you want.”

The forgotten rain began to pick up. A soft spray that snuck past the protection of the awning begged for you to find warmth inside. You refused to curl into yourself. Instead, you pushed yourself off the brick wall to brush everything into the past.

“Enjoy your holiday, Theseus.”

“Look—” Stopped by your arm, Theseus paused with thought. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I know what I’m doing.” You were softer this time, but your furrowed brow still exposed your upset. But it relaxed as Theseus's hand trailed your arm to find your hand.

“I don’t doubt that.” He spoke earnestly.

Quietness followed the slight embrace that you broke after a small squeeze. The contact allowed Theseus to speak freely, but you wouldn’t listen to more. You knew what he would say, and that was enough.

“Let me buy you a drink.” You blamed the barflies stumbling out the door beside you for your sentimentality. Theseus gave you a tentative look you knew you could break. “Just the one…And if you’re lucky, I’ll tell you what I know.” It was a promise. “I’m feeling charitably inclined tonight.”

The tips of Theseus’ fingers continued to tingle despite their loneliness.  His pockets felt cold. “And why’s that?”

“I’ve met someone.”

�� Present Day —

You hadn’t believed in love, and you were ready to carry that grudge—until him.

Avery Sinclair.

It wasn’t proper love, proving your skepticism in the emotion correctly. But it was the closest you’ve ever been, would ever be. He charmed you with his intelligence but decidedly made pearl dust a main ingredient in your relationship. It ensured your vision was so muddled you were willing to sacrifice yourself for him. Avery determined your demise before you could even pick up a scent.

The auror, he had told you. Rid us of him.

To this day, the memory was disillusioned by your coerced fidelity. The memory was more of an overlapping feeling. It was like your body wasn’t your own, stepping into an event without an invitation. You could still feel the heat of the fire you started and the desperation of your scream when you were pushed to your knees. Even then, you failed to remember things coherently.

Yet, when your vision finally cleared, only Aurors surrounded you. Theseus fronted the brigade with a grimace that reflected his disdain. You hadn’t known the expression was a mix of pity and guilt due to the fact that his name would be inherently tied to your public conviction. You just felt like you could finally breathe without a struggle.

“Did you hear me?” Theseus prompted you again, pulling you out of a shared past. He noted your gaze drifting, a thousand-yard stare replacing a genuine exchange. “Listen carefully; we only have so much time until—

“This is what your promotion got you.” You observed the spacious office you’d been in. Your tone asked if it was worth it. Your value was reflected in the fine leather seats, the expensive wood desk, and the plaque that named Theseus’ higher position.

Those who transported you expected catastrophe, but you entrusted your silence. You were calculated enough to know when to hold your tongue, but once in the atrium of the Ministry, you could no longer sit so stoically.

Theseus went to say your name, imploring you to focus, but you only challenged him. He held your stare just as strongly, “You underestimate the scale of this.”

“As if that matters...” You frowned only to follow with deeply rooted sarcasm, “...in a system that is so fair and competent.”

Your words were your only defense against something so factual. Although you were in danger, it had yet to actualize and frighten you as it had Theseus. To him, you were ready to give up, engage entirely with the peril Sinclair would unleash. Your indifference only confirmed his sentiments.

Theseus began to pace. With each step, he attempted to restrain his insults. How you looked at him only provoked a wave of pent-up anger, “You have always been so cruel…”

“If I'm cruel, then what does that make you, Theseus?” You were ready for the conversation; your thoughts honed and practiced. “If I'm cruel, then you must be something much worse.”

“I'm trying to help you.” His voice was low, afraid those whispering about your presence—capture—would overhear his admission. In time, you’d learn that his words were genuine, that he was risking more than you realized.

“No.” You spoke definitively, head shaking with refutation. “What you do is selfish. You help with a suffocating hand—

“You don’t get to make this my fault. You chose him.” The silence to follow echoed his regret. You eyed his uncharacteristic agitation as he tried to rectify his mistake.

“Theseus!” A voice boomed, entering the office. Torquil Travers. “There you are, now—This is her?” With a passing look of disgust, he let out another booming statement. “Have you located Sinclair?”

“Yes, sir.” Theseus’ bluntness evaporated the previous argument. Yet, his eyebrow twitched. The micro expression revealed too much. His body contradicted his words.

You rolled your eyes at the formality. After all these years, Theseus still couldn’t shake the nickname that followed him during his younger years—Schoolboy hero.

Suck up, you thought.

“Ensure this gets done.” Travers’ attitude indicated he felt the time in Theseus’ office was already wasted. “Quietly.”

Theseus held a tight-lipped smile. “Of course, sir.”

Time, too, was his concern, and it became obvious the longer Travers remained in his office. You wanted answers of your own, but you could be patient as there were more pressing desires.

“These come off.” You said evenly, gaining the attention of those in the room. Yet, Travers looked around as if your voice was foreign and your presence was no more than a nuisance.

His posture straightened with arrogance, prompting Theseus, “Handle that.”

That. Your position was clarified. You were no longer a person, no longer a witch. You were—that. Theseus felt ill, agreeing once again to his boss’ request before he left. Theseus intentionally kept his back to you, trying to form the words that explained what he had to do—what he was assigned to do. Handling that meant telling you the cuffs were to stay on.

Emotion flooded your chest; you missed your isolation. Solitude made things simpler. Though now there was no choice. You were to be bait; you were meant to lure Sinclair in. It was Theseus’ idea, only as a form of protection and to bide time for him to figure out something more promising.

With a hand tucked in his waistband and the other rubbing across his jaw in thought, Theseus stared ahead at his desk. He seemed at a loss and could only resort to honesty. “I want you to trust me.”

You did. You had. You relied on him in the past. At one point, you would have considered him the only one that had the privilege. You thought he had understood that. Your relationship had naturally ebbed and flowed. It was required when you were such opposites, but mutual respect helped it remain.

Theseus promised he wouldn’t follow you that night, but that was the same night he was no longer a man of his word. For your own good, his own remark nauseated him. It had felt so right at the moment, a moment of long-coming justice, but it was not only a trap for you but for him.

He would never fall for it again. With a weak rasp of the knuckles to his desk, Theseus’ mind settled.  His side was chosen.

Coming close, he crouched down to your seated level. You remained still, his motions far too interesting to pull away. He began trailing your arms until he reached the metal at your wrists. “...You’re not safe with them on.”

You'd grown so accustomed to the weight of the bracelets on your wrists. They weighed you down in every way you could imagine. You learned to move with them smartly, using your magic so strategically that it felt like a chore rather than an extension of yourself. And now, seeing your wrists empty, you fought off a misplaced nostalgia.

You had never meant to become the villain. You just didn't know what else to do.

Theseus watched as your eyes welled with emotion, knowing you’d never let actual tears form. He thought to move forward and bring any sort of comfort to the situation, but you moved quicker than the thought was formed.

“No!–Don’t—”

His breath was lost, the world around him dissolving into a deep color. Your hand gripped his collar, but it felt like he was being pressed hard from all directions. The journey was nauseating and familiar. The surroundings no longer reflected the Ministry, the marble flooring was replaced by puddles, and the air was no longer crisp but heavy with humidity.

Your laugh bubbled, starting slowly with the feeling of surprise that evolved into pure joy. You refused to be tracked by your magic, so you typically abstained. The feeling of magic again was like a feeling of renewal—an electricity that scratched a phantom itch.

You glanced at a flushed Theseus, “...Remember this place?”

[respectthepetty]

Hi! First off all, brain praise: I LOVE THE WAY YOU SEE I LOVE THE WAY YOU ANALYZE I LOVE THE WAY YOU THINK

*clears throat and shifts feet *

How much do you think the colors apply to people in real life? How far are someone's true colors (hah) identifiable through the colors and accessories they wear? And does your brain highlight those for you in real life too? (If yes please elaborate please)

Do people choose the colors they like consciously and then over time the qualities/traits get magnified/infused (?) or do the qualities make you subconsciously choose those colors as silent representation of the inner self?

Like if a red rascal consistently and consciously is trying to be a green guy or blue boy, will wearing those colors change his red rascal-ness over time?

Thank you in advance for taking the time to read through this

Anon, go look at your closet. What does it say about you? Is it an accurate representation of who you are as a person.

Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. But I KNOW colors apply to people in real life, and I've written about this in other posts:

Why the colors?

Color-coding groups

Cultural color coding

Real-life color coding

Real-life color coding Part 2

Visual Rhetoric

But I'm going to be more scientific in my answer here since you want specifics.

TLWR: The colors mean things in real life, but we cannot color code the same as in visual media.

Most of these research studies are hidden behind a paywall, but the links will show you the abstracts.

A 2013 study found that people who were ovulating wore more red and pink clothing. It was a subconscious decision to highlight they were fertile [x]. However, when the study was conducted again in 2021, the results were not significant. The researchers suggested this change was due to a shift in unwanted attention (e.g. MeToo Movement). [x]

But women who wear red in the service industry receive more tips from men. [x]

Sports psychologist have long noted that players who wear red are deemed more aggressive than those who wear blue. Players who wear green are judged more fairly. [x] [x]

Several studies have found that people who wear black are seen as more attractive, specifically men [x]. There is an entire book about the historical context of Men in Black. [x]

During times of global competitions (World Cup, Olympics, etc.) color association is the strongest for national identities. For example, this study showed that orange was consistently associated with The Netherlands regardless if the person wearing it was Dutch. [x]

Research in educational design, interior design, and architecture concludes that colors affect the space in terms of emotions and production. [x]

Plants react differently depending on the color of the lighting they receive [x]. Animals as well. [x]

Colors mean things.

However, when you ask how colors affect people in "real life" I always have to give a tiny lecture because the term "real life" is broad. I know what you are asking, but art is real life. What colors we see on our screens have a real-world connection; therefore, they have real life implications. Barbie being pink is real life because pink in Eurocentric ideals is a feminine color, and Barbie is the epitome of femininity. We see this carry over into other pieces of visual media like Power Rangers where for thirty years, the Pink Ranger has been a woman.

The Japanese equivalent of Power Rangers finally had a male Pink Ranger in 2022, but culturally, Japan isn't tied to feminine pink the way the United States is. We use these colors in media because they mean something in real life.

But most people do not consciously go around choosing colors. People have favored colors, and they gravitate towards them more. People also have favored prints and styles such as florals or hoodies. So trying to categorize people based on the colors they wear in their everyday lives could quickly fall into dangerous territory, especially because a lot more goes into “real life” choices.

Neutral colors are more accessible in clothing – black and white. Blue can be found in nature; therefore, it has been easier to duplicate in dyes using natural resources. The red dye we typically use today comes from squishing a bug. When inventing new colors that weren’t seen in nature or that could not be duplicated through natural means, we used dangerous ingredients that could not and should not have been produced on a large scale.

All of this is to say that it is difficult for us to color code in real life because we do not have unlimited closets to pick items from like production teams. Most of us are not rich, so we must purchase what is available on the public market, and we must wear what we have available on the public market. Looking briefly at any clothing store, we can see how limiting those options can be:

This man cannot be a Red Rascal nor a Pink Person because the options do not exist for him at this store, and this is true of most men’s clothing. Because we live in a binary society, we get binary options. Men can’t be colorful unless it's blue (standard boy color), but women can. Prime example - The Met Gala.

And yet science tells me that we will find the man in the clothing ad more attractive in black. We will find him more approachable in white. We will deem him nonthreatening in blue-ish grey. We will see him as more of a worker in the tan/brown.

So, yes, I notice colors . . .  because we assign meaning to colors.

If I see someone in a red suit in a crowd of black, I’m going to think that person is bold and wants to stand out, but that might not be true of his everyday nature.

People make subconscious decisions based on the society they live in, so if someone is feeling down or wants to appear more attractive, they might wear more black, but if someone wants to stand out or appear Dutch, they could wear orange.

But because it’s real life, we can’t always pick colors to match our emotions or personality. But we CAN do that in visual media, which is why we do. We can be more intentional about everything in visual media, so we are. Visual media is a more extravagant version of real life. So we can get the boy in the blue and the girl in the pink and when they come together, it makes purple.

I could write about this all day, but I have to work for a living and actually get to teach about this ALL SEMESTER because there is a lot to unpack. This is art, biology, psychology, anthropology, sociology, marketing, and so much more because this is life.

Colors are real life.

And they mean things.

[dotchi18]

just saw your latest post‼️strap in bc i have questions ‼️‼️

1) please tell me more about the Rosen family!!! I'm especially curious about their ties to magic (bc the protective charm, rose changing color)

2) tell me more about the Rosen brothers! you wrote about Adam but what about mysterious brother #2??

3) do the Rosen family have any power over the village? are they powerful? do they assume a "leader" role ? are they well liked? what do the other villagers think of them?

4) what about the Rosen parents? what's their story?

5) what's up with the in-between? why was the mermaid able to break through our protection chart but other monsters weren't?

6) briar... tell me more... he seemed super suspicious (i think i mentioned this before lol) with his timing, how he "disposed" of the corpse

7) leader!!! can't forget about my fav cult!!! what's leaders name? what's his background like? why do him and the followers work for psy?

8) do you have an information about the setting/time period? i know darling is from a village and the Rosens are basically next door neighbors but what does the architecture look like? what's the magic history?

i know this is a lot of words at once lol don't feel obligated to answer everything!!! i love the world you've created and i just would love to get more information on everything 😭😭 please don't feel pressured to answer!!

I am more than willing to answer your questions Cup!

*Claps hands* Strap in Boys, this is a long one!

-

Short and sweet answer to that is that they actually have Alarune (Flower Monster) blood within them, which gives their human descendants distinct Rose-Colored hair, and an affinity to nature itself. Those powers include being exceptionally good with plants, being able to make them protective charms if they hope hard enough, and being resistant to a lot of things that would kill a human (Adam has been gored by steers multiple times and refuses to die.)

2. Mysterious Brother #2 is Gabriel Rosen. He is the Black Sheep of the Family considering he hates living in their backwater town and has tried to leave, but it was not successful, stranding him back with his family, and he takes all that frustration on everyone else.

3. The Rosen family has significant influence over the town. Many people have already drawn the conclusion that their Roses protect the Village- especially when it's only less than a day's trip from the Deep Forest- so they rely on the family as their protectors.

They are well-liked for their Southern Charms and friendly demeanors- 'cept Gabe but some people like being bullied-, Adam attends many a Town Meeting and Sonny is quite literally the town Darling who could get anyone to do anything for him with just a bright smile and a hint of a suggestion that he needs or wants something.

4. Mama Rosen has the same Alarune blood her boys carry, and from that she's a bit wild behind the eyes, especially when she had it particularly strong within her.

She fell in love with Papa Rosen, and it was all over for that man.

He tried to pass onto his sons that loving someone was to let them choose what they wanted, but the amount his sons had absorbed from him varies, from Gabe who doesn't give a shit, to Sonny, who thought the world of his Pa and took his words deep into his heart before his passing.

5. The In-Between is the thin margin between the dangers of both The Thicket and The Glen, not marked on the player's map because they had an old one, but it's basically where adventurers go before they branch off into parts of the Deep to find what they want.

And the Mermaid was a slightly more powerful monster than any small fry monsters that were being warded off by the flower.

If you hadn't been wearing it, you would have encountered a few snake monsters or wolf monsters that would have been a bit of pain for you.

6. Briar is indeed pretty suspicious, probably granted to the fact he had been following you since he saw you with Leader and the Followers trying to get to the Mushroom Merchant, and then kind of just... followed you from there.

He's a Ranger that's lived in the Deep for a long time, but Psy's hard to pin down if they don't want to be found.

But he was being genuine about how he finds that disposing of corpses by feeding the Forest to be the best route. It has done well for him in the past.

7. Leader does not remember their name.

Leader does not care to remember that, nor where they came from.

All that matters to them is that they are part of the Collective.

They are useful.

They are so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so happy to be where they are.

Especially when they have such a kind merchant who feeds them the divine mushrooms that never ever lets them be sad or afraid, ever again.

8. Honestly it was a kind of generic fantasy setting to see where to put them in, a mishmashing blend of old and new, considering the Rosens have a farmhouse, but you have a cottage.

There are carts on the road, however there are other magical ways to get around.

All magic exists from the earth, but the crust has been opened and dug into.

Honestly I need to put more time and thought into it more than I have, it's a good world and it needs refinement.

[roxannepolice]

Ooh, I've been thinking about Mozart lately! I'd love to hear your thoughts/feelings on him if you have anything you'd like to talk about 💜

I mean, talking about music is supposedly like dancing about architecture, and I'm no Nijinsky... and I should clarify that my thesis was specifically about Milos Forman's biopics, i.e. Amadeus and Goya's ghosts... so I guess the good part is that a "fictionalized" Mozart is arguably more appropriate to blorboify 😅

And the truth is I absolutely love Mozart's music, largely thanks to Forman's film. I think it managed to convey the pure genius spot on, not just in showing baby Wolfgang playing flawlessly with his eyes covered or exclamations of how there are no corrections on his sheets (which... I've been to Mizart museum in Vienna. It's freaking true. That guys really wasjust transcribing what was already in his head), but perhaps most in one of my favourite scenes in cinema history, that is Mozart vamping up Salieri's march:

Just... the moment a... Decent. Good. Better by a mile than what most people will write in their lifetime! piece of music turns into something so purely brilliant that hits something going beyond conscious mind, or culture or history, and just... touches the moment beauty crosses the line of aesthetic and becomes a value in its own right???? AND ALL THAT FROM LISTENING ONCE TO A VERY POOR PERFORMANCE (honestly, tons of ink were spilled for F. Murray Abraham and Tom Hulce, and justly so, but shoutout to Jeffrey Jones for the performance that in one of my better choices of words I described as "majestically unaware of his own mediocrity")???!!!! This explains what pure genius is in a way that no cognitivistics ever could!

(This was one of my major statements in the thesis, btw. One of the biggest questions regarding biopics if you can bend historical facts for a story. And I get how that's a problem, but can you convey the pure genius basing on something that isn't already genius? Because the two "improvised" pieces in Amadeus are both in fact music already written by Mozart, with the "march" being the aria Non piu andrai and the "Bach-like" melody in the party/fart scene is Vivat Bacchus. If you already have a contrast between, again. Decent. Good. and GENIUS, should you really avoid an analysis of what's the difference? Incidentally, neither Shaffer nor Forman say Salieri did in fact murder Mozart)

I think if anyone's looking for someone who did have a Nijinsky skill in writing about Mozart, I really recommend Norbert Elias's Mozart: sociology of a genius. He formulates a sort of sociological look on how genius comes to be. Not so much in a "oh, it's actually all about habitus and people maintaining concepts of beauty to serve their own purposes" or "how to raise a genius" (incidentally, if you're looking for "how NOT to raise a kid" look no further than Leopold Mozart), but really digging into "not denying some unique gift, what social circumstances allow this gift to bloom?"

I just think Mozart's music is the epitome of joyfulness that's profound. It grasps the essential unseriousness of life while keeping its importance to each individual. Makes the everyday into an ideal, without stripping or objectifying anything. It gives a sense of connection that remains thoroughly introspective. It's mathematically perfect while quintessentially human. It is, indeed, how God hears the world.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #82

Today is a day of resting. For a variety of reasons, I decided to stay home and watch M explore the second portion of your story.

I must say, I feel privileged and honored to be able to learn so much more about your planet than was possible previously. The first time your story was told, we were given so few details But now…

We can see the foods the people of your world eat. We can see the clothing they wear. The instruments they make music with. The art they create. The architecture they use to build their homes and structures. We even know now that your planet has sign language, just like mine! In the course of witnessing this part of your story, I've been trying to drink in as much of the culture of your world as I can.

I think one of the things I'm most interested in is making note of the different kinds of food available in your world. Cloud said something about the standard SOLDIER rations being nutritious, but gross. I can't help but wonder, given how much of your life must have been controlled by the corporation that created and enslaved you, how much of your world's cuisine you've been able to try. Though it is known that you enjoy things like pasta, I can't help but wonder what else you've tried, and what sorts of things you like and dislike when it comes to food. Are there flavors you can't stand? Textures that you don't enjoy?

…For some reason, I think you might like things such as macaroni and cheese. Or maybe a burrata. Or maybe you'd like bok choy, pan-fried in a little butter and garlic. Or stuffed mushrooms? Garlic bread? Concord grapes?

There are lots of things in your world that we don't have in mine. We don't have Gongaga mushrooms or Magonga mushrooms or Banora White apples or any of the greens that chocobos like to eat. So I wonder if maybe there are some things in my world that your world doesn't have. If there are… wouldn't it be amazing if I could share some of those things with you? I wonder what you would think.

I see the art in your world. I can't help but wonder if you've ever tried to draw or paint. If you have… what have you created? And if not… what kinds of pictures would you make? I wonder if you'd show us.

I see the musicians in your world. I can't help but wonder if you've ever tried to sing or to play an instrument, or even to whistle a little tune. What melodies do you like? What words do you carry in your heart? I wonder if you'd show us.

I see the performers in your world. I can't help but wonder, with all your amazing physical prowess, if you've ever tried to dance. I wonder what it would look like. I wonder what songs might move you.

I wonder so many things. I wonder which beautiful things life can offer that you have yet to experience. I wish I could pull you away from all the ick you're accustomed to, over to where I live, just for a day (because my planet has problems, too), to show you all of the wonderful things you've yet to try.

Hey, Sephiroth? Once you're all done with doing whatever you gotta do to make sure your planet and everyone on it (including you!!) is safe, will you promise me that you'll try those things? And that you'll share your thoughts and experiences with someone who understands? I'd like to think that I would understand, but… I imagine that you ever reaching me is an impossibility, since… ya know. You're an art form here, and not someone I can actually talk to or reach at all or try to help… as much as all of this pains me in ways that I can't even begin to describe.

But… even if it's impossible, I'm still not going to give up trying to reach you. So please… please make sure you don't give up, either. Don't give up on loving the world and the people around you. Don't give up on learning new things and shattering old conditioning in favor of newer, better, and more loving ways of being. Don't give up on trying to truly live, despite all that has happened to you.

I know you feel out-of-place and alone, but… if nowhere else… you can have a home in my house. Because my house is where lots of misfits go. It's a place where anyone can be safe. So… as impossible as it is, you're still invited. You're invited to be in a space where no one, no matter how different they are, can belong. You can belong. Don't give up. Please. I'll keep calling for you. I'll keep trying to show you as many beautiful things as I can. You're not alone.

I'll write again tomorrow. Please stay safe out there. Please come back to us in one piece.

Your friend, Lumine

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Richard Dawkins

Published: Nov 17, 2023

Dear Ayaan

As you know, you are one of my absolutely favourite people but... seriously, Ayaan? You, a Christian? You are no more a Christian than I am.  I might agree with you (I actually do) that Putinism, Islamism, and postmodernish wokery pokery are three great enemies of decent civilisation. I might agree with you that Christianity, if only as a lesser of evils, is a powerful weapon against them. I might add that Christianity has been the inspiration for some of the greatest art, architecture and music the world has ever known. But so what?  I once got into trouble for extolling the beauty of Winchester Cathedral bells by comparison with the “aggressive-sounding” yell of “Allahu Akhbar” (the last thing you hear before the bomb goes off, or before your head rolls away from your body). I might agree (I think I do, although certainly not in its earlier history) that Christianity is morally superior to Islam. I might even agree that Christianity is the bedrock of our civilisation (actually I don’t, but even if I did...) None of that comes remotely even close to making me – or you – a Christian.

I have seen a very recent filmed discussion in which you described me as one of the most Christian people you know. This came after you quoted Roger Scruton as saying to you that you act like a Christian, you behave like a Christian, therefore you are a Christian. But Ayaan, that is so wrong. How you, or I, behave is utterly irrelevant. What matters is what you believe. What matters is the truth claims about the world which you think are true.

For that is the whole point. Christianity makes factual claims, truth claims that Christians believe, truth claims that define them as Christian. Christians are theists. They believe in a divine father figure who designed the universe, listens to our prayers, is privy to our every thought. You surely don’t believe that? Do you believe Jesus rose from the grave three days after being placed there? Of course you don’t. Do you believe Jesus was born to a virgin? Certainly not. Someone of your intelligence does not believe you have an immortal soul, which will survive the decay of your brain. Christians believe in a frightful place called Hell, where the souls of the wicked go after they are dead. Do you believe that? Hell no! Christians believe every baby is “born in sin” and is saved from Hell only by the redemptive (pre-emptive in the case of all those born anno domini) execution of Jesus. Do you believe anything close to that nasty scapegoat theory? Of course you don’t.

Ayaan, you are no more a Christian than I am.

You make an additional claim, which my respect for you finds more incredible: “I have also turned to Christianity because I ultimately found life without any spiritual solace unendurable — indeed very nearly self-destructive.” So you need a religion of some kind, and Christianity seems the least bad alternative? Ayaan, I have always thought of you as one of the bravest people I know. How could you succumb to such weakness?

“Atheism failed to answer a simple question: what is the meaning and purpose of life?” For my part, I have found various things that give my life meaning and purpose. There’s science, and my books have expounded my lifelong quest to understand the meaning and purpose of all life. Then there’s human love, there’s the beauty of a child, a tropical swim under the stars, a ravishing sunset, a Schubert quartet. There’s the art and literature of all the world. The warmth of an intimate embrace.

But even if all such things leave you cold – and of course they don’t – even if you feel a ravenous need for more, what on Earth does that have to do with the truth claims of Christianity or any other religion? Even if life were intolerably bleak and empty – it isn’t, but even if it were – how could you, how could anyone, twist a need for solace into a belief in scriptural truth claims about the universe, simply because they make you feel good? Intelligent people don’t believe something because it comforts them. They believe it because, and only because, they have seen evidence that supports it.

No, Ayaan, you are not a Christian, you are just a decent human being who mistakenly thinks you need a religion in order to remain so.

With my love

Richard

PS would you like to have a recorded conversation for us both to put on our social media?

[thislovintime]

Clips from 1997 and 2006.

Q: “Why did you get into the music business?” Peter Tork: “Approval. Respect. Love. Girls.” - Beachwood Confidential, 1995 (x)

* * *

"What I was working towards was to be in a group. When the Beatles hit, where were all the folkies going to go? But I also wanted to be a folk music performer. A lot of what I did was hanging out, feeling for the first time that I was part of the scene, walking down the street and seeing people I knew, doing a little flirting." - Peter Tork, Bringing It All Back Home: 25 Years of American Music at Folk City (1986) (x)

* * *

"Dear Peter, I hope this doesn’t sound stupid. It’s something I’ve always wanted to know. Why do rock stars get all the women? I figured you would know. Even my sister likes you a lot and she doesn’t really like anyone very much. She says hi, btw. I was thinking of becoming an architect but that doesn’t seem to get the girls excited. Should I learn to play guitar? Thanks bro,  Jon L."

"Dear Jon, Thanks for asking. I’ve never wondered the same thing; I’ve been too busy trying to get the women by being a pop star so I’ve never had time to stop and tell on the roses, as it were. But since it all came up lo, these many years ago, I’ve actually given the matter some thought. Here’s some of what I’ve come up with: For one thing, those of us who got into show business did so IN ORDER to get attention. This is sometimes an outgrowth of a conviction in childhood that people didn’t much care about us, or even notice us. We determined that if we could get the millions (or, say, dozens) to love us, then it wouldn’t matter that we weren’t much regarded on an individual basis in our youth. For some of us, it worked. Unfortunately, it has its drawbacks. You don’t get to know these ahead of time, so I’m going to tell you. One of them is, that the girls we do get mostly want us for the show we put on. By that, I don’t mean only the stuff that goes on onstage, but the way we present ourselves when we meet someone. I have a ready stock of funny stories and sly ways to hook a girl in, but in the end, that’s what she goes for, and when it comes time for me to be myself, she’s always kind of shocked. […] Check it out: architecture is a deeply satisfying career and you’re going to find a relationship that suits you if you’ll only let it happen and what you do for a living will be only one measure of your true value in the eyes of a worthy, intelligent, supportive woman. Good luck, Peter” - Ask Peter Tork, The Daily Panic, 2008 (x)

* * *

"In spite of all his clowning, Peter was a rather serious chap. […] Peter was a loud, powerful singer (I used to call him a romp’em, stomp’em type of singer), while I was a soft ballad singer. He had enormous stage presence and I had very little. He played the banjo, I played the guitar. […] He was restless and intense, while I was calm. He loved to be with a lot of people all of the time, whereas I liked to be completely alone some of the time. And last, but not least, Peter Tork had quite a way with the girls." - Bruce Farwell, 16’s The Monkees: Here We Are (1967) (x)

* * *

“Next to his music, girls interested Peter Tork more than anything else in the whole wide world. He loved them all — and most of them loved him. Peter wasn’t tall, dark or handsome, but he made up for his liabilities with his great warmth, enthusiasm and sense of humor. He was also basically a very kind and giving person. He just had a way of making people happy even when he was broke, freezing cold and there were no prospects for work in the future. That Pied Piper-ish quality Peter had attracted girls of all shapes and sizes. He had many brief romances and a couple of very serious ones, and even today Peter is still good friends with almost every girl he knew, dated, or fell in love with during his Greenwich Village days.” - Lance Wakely, 16, March 1967

* * *

“Peter was great for the chicks of the village… they queued up to see him and talk to him. But eventually he had an offer to join the Phoenix Singers, who were short of a guy to play banjo AND guitar. And if you still have any doubts about whether he really does play, and play well, then the thing to do is ask the management behind the Phoenix Singers. Even without the Monkees, there is little doubt that the amiable Peter would have mae the grade in the music business. When, eventually, Peter went to the West Coast, to California, he wasn’t kept waiting long for fame. Within two months he was auditioned and accepted for the Monkees. Behind him was a mass of previous girlfriends but, unlike many blokes, Peter has the knack of staying on very friendly terms with girls even after he’s stopped going out with them.” - Record Mirror, February 25, 1967

* * *

“...Inside his dressing room, he towels the sweat from [his] head, takes out a guitar, pulls up a chair and starts singing ME a song. [...] He DIPS me, yes, like a dance dip, asks me permission and then kisses ME chastely on my cheek!... [...] Months later, when I returned back to earth, I received a three page letter from Peter Tork (remember, he asked me for my address before the dip) which was just beautiful, poetry mixed with kindness, which is how I choose to this day to describe him as a human.”:

“I heard this on the radio!

‘TODAY at 4pm, THE MONKEES will be appearing at RECORD WORLD!’

I looked at a map to see where Record World was located (yes, I had a map in my glove compartment) and plotted and within seconds, turned the car in the opposite direction of Georgetown and hightailed to some mall in Virginia. The line to meet the Monkees was surprisingly huge. It wrapped all the way around the mall twice. Anxious to make it back to campus for the first night of my senior year, which we all know is the BEST night of the year, I became anxious the line was too long and The Monkees would leave before they got to me. I needed to come up with a plan, stepping off the line, I found myself moments later in Sharper Image, purchasing a small tape recorder.

With tape recorder in hand, I marched myself up to the security guard outside the RECORD WORLD where all four of the Monkees were signing records.

‘I’m here from the Georgetown University newspaper, The Hoya. I wasn’t even sure if that was the title of our school newspaper…a lucky guess.

‘I’m hoping to get a quick interview with the guys.’

‘Sure, right this way.’

WOW!  That was easy.

They let me cut the line and stand RIGHT behind the Monkees while they continued to sign records. Me looking out at a sea of other Monkee lunatics, just like me!

OMG!!!  I had NO questions, I had no way of handling being this close to the four guys that I spent my entire pubescent life fantasizing about marrying, dancing or at least camping!

‘Hello.’ Micky Dolenz says to me!!! and I go numb. I got nothing.  

I look over to Peter Tork, who asks me my name and when I say Mary, Davy Jones chimes in and says, ‘Ah, Mary Mary.’


WHAT!!!!????  Smelling salts please?? (Actually, true story, Lara did really pass out once when she met Davy Jones at a book signing!)

I stumbled my way through the interview, holding up the tiny tape recorder every time I asked a question. Thankfully they never caught on that the tape recorder didn’t even have batteries in it or that I had not actually pushed any of the buttons to start or stop recording. I just moved it from my mouth to their face, like a child playing make-believe.

I kindly say thank you and tear up. The security guard ushers me away from the table but right before I was about to steal a tuft of [Micky]’s hair, Peter Tork looks at me and said, ‘write your phone number down here.’

In a Monkees haze, I write it and then, I’m quickly whisked away by security.

I cried the entire 3-hour car ride back to DC, happy tears, and this was before cell phones, so I had no one to call and scream the news. Just me, alone, reliving how I had just pulled off a Monkees miracle.

When I arrived back to my senior year house, all my pals were wondering why I was so late and informed me I had thirty minutes to get dressed because we were all heading out for the BIG first night back at school. The night you waited all summer long for, so you could show off how great you looked to your biggest crush.

I threw down my bag, jumped in the shower and was interupted by my roommate telling me that I had a phone call.

Wet from the shower, I grabbed the call.

‘Hi.  This is the Monkees Tour Manager.  Peter Tork asked me to leave two tickets for you at the Will Call for tonight’s show.  It starts at 8pm.’

I looked at the clock…it was 6pm….the concert was two hours away, back to where I had just left the scene of my delicious deception.

I HAD TO GO!

I started down my list of roommates to come with me, one at a time, rejection, followed with ‘YOU’RE NUTS!!’

Finally, I bribed my most beautiful and most fun pal Emily to join me. I think the bribe was, I’ll pay all your bar tabs the entire first semester if you drive to Virginia with me.  If you saw how we drank back then, this was a generous offer.

She agreed to join me, but made me promise we could be back by midnight as to not miss out on the first night back to school.

‘Done!’

And there we were, back in my car, heading two hours south, right back to where I just come from.

We arrived at the concert hall and Emily (my personal timekeeper) reminded me. ‘You have two hours…that’s it.’

We had great seats and a bunch of songs in, a roadie came and plucked us from our seats to go backstage. WHAT!

There was an intermission or maybe it was the moment between the last song and the encore, but all I remember what that it was fast and there was a lot of scrambling.

This was the first ‘backstage’ I had ever seen.  A minute in, Peter Tork comes over to ME!?  Says, ‘I’m so glad you made it’ and invites ME!? into his dressing room.

I look at Emily, who somehow understands just how big a deal this was to me and grants me, sternly, ‘10 minutes!!’

Inside his dressing room, he towels the sweat from [his] head, takes out a guitar, pulls up a chair and starts singing ME a song.  

The 13-year old girl in me dreamt about this moment for years and now it was right in front of me. My very own little concert with Peter.

‘2 minutes!’ An announcement comes up on a loud speaker, but the perfect amount of time for him to put down his guitar, change his shirt, tell me that I was a very special person (something about my aura), asks me to write down my address in a small book AND then………

He DIPS me, yes, like a dance dip, asks me permission and then kisses ME chastely on my cheek!

The door opens, Emily is now [tapping] her feet and thwarting off flirtatious talk by Davy Jones (with something I remember as subtle as ‘FUCK OFF!’)

‘You’re done!’ She tells me sternly.

I was, forever.  Forever change, just like Marcia Brady was when Davy Jones kissed her on her cheek.

The whole ride home we laughed at the idea that we were ‘groupies’ and I tried to downplay to her how UNBELIEVABLE and SUREAL the whole moment was. Like I had manifested a dream.

Later that night, back with other people my own age, back to what we all deemed very important…shots and dancing, I was still reliving every moment of what happened that magical day, wishing I had a phone to call Lara (she’d never believe it) or that that there was a special Monkees hotline that I could call to discuss ‘my feelings.’

‘What is that!?’ My friend Chudney asked me mid dance to Franki Valli’s Oh What A Night, pointing to a small foam ball peeking perfectly outside the middle of my bra. I looked down, reached in and just started laughing.

Peter’s microphone fob (or whatever the furry thing is at the tip of the microphone) must have fallen into my shirt during our torrid dip.

This was sure to go into the Smithsonian of my life.  

Months later, when I returned back to earth, I received a three page letter from Peter Tork (remember, he asked me for my address before the dip) which was just beautiful, poetry mixed with kindness, which is how I choose to this day to describe him as a human.

Yes I was 22 and he was 52, yes this moment would be fully frowned upon today, but it was my moment, willingly and open heartedly.  I willed myself backstage and into that dressing room and I’m grateful for that his real sweetness and this (I’m hoping you find benign and funny) story.

Yesterday when I heard of Peter’s passing, I danced with my daughter (even dipped her a few times) and then expressed gratitude to Peter and The Monkees for keeping me innocent, for keeping me weird and for keeping me alive with possibilities of real love – the kind you get from a song, or a glance or a sweet cheek kiss.” - Mary Giuliani, thriveglobal dot com, February 2019

[thats-it-im-fallingdown]

Here are my thoughts from my first viewing of Revenge of the Sith (as I watched it) after having seen the clone wars!

-there are heroes on both sides? really? lux left the separatists at the end of the onderon arc, and he’s the only good separatist we see

-oh boy, the kidnapping of palpatine sure sounds exciting! wish we got to see it on screen. i am not even done with the title crawl and things aren’t going well.

-hell yeah, action! I’m usually not fond of big cgi fights because it’s hard to feel a sense of scale, but this one is working for me. i wonder if it’s because cgi like this was more cutting edge and done by professional artists rather than it’s-technically-not-a-sweatshop labor.

-Hayden Christensen is.. so good as anakin. the guy voicing him on clone wars was great done get me wrong, but there’s no beating the og

-I wasn’t even alive when the prequels came out, so i can’t say for sure, but tcw is retroactively doing a lot of heavy lifting here. I’m coming into this emotionally invested in the clones and having watched anakin be nudged further and further into unhealthy attachment. See: obi wan putting the mission to save palpatine over himself and anakin putting his friend above the mission despite obi wan reprimanding him

-even when he’s “captured” palpatine is incapable of not looking like a stuffy old man. he’s shackled to a space throne

-that flip was not necessary. dooku is extra and it’s great

-obi wan is so confident that he’ll be able to take dooku like I haven’t watched him an anakin get the run around from him more than once in tcw

-the cgi of the platform falling on obi wan was. odd looking.

-I’m loving how palpatine is in full on shameless villain mode

-the fluctuations in tone are really funny to me in a way I don’t think they’re intended to be. going from dooku’s execution to “wait a minute we’re smarter than this” is giving me whiplash

-i literally can’t go for more than a minute without spotting a memed line. prequelmemes unstoppable

-about the you’re so beautiful scene between padme and anakin on the balcony.. I’m not a very advanced actor, but I do have enough experience to say that this is what poor directing looks like imo. Lucas, buddy, you have got to give them more direction. even the best of actors can’t fly by the seat of their pants for two hours

-the pearl strands on padmes nightgown look so uncomfortable to sleep in

-people tend to misunderstand why the Jedi forbid attachments, and some of it is western fans not understanding Buddhism, but I think it’s mostly the fault of scenes like the one where anakin goes to yoda about his premonition of padme dying in childbirth. it’s just… not said in a way that makes it clear that attachment should be seen as similar to possessiveness

-asking anakin to spy on palpatine, who he is close to, right when his opinion of the council is at an all time low is just.. really foolish. yes, palpatine is getting to the dictator zone at this point. yes, he’s a concern. but don’t you have someone else you could pick? he was just abducted, and if we count tcw, not even for the first time. giving him a full time Jedi bodyguard wouldn’t be unreasonable, and then you could spy on him!

-the window view cityscapes of coruscant have a beauty to them. it’s a contrast to the concrete brutalism in Andor

-that line about darth plagueis being able to create life— is he just referring to prolonging life, or is there an implication that that was how anakin was conceived?

-I’m a sucker for treehouse architecture, I can’t help but love kashyyyk’s design

-Utapau, good to see you and your wildlife fully rendered!

-getting to know all these Jedi in tcw makes seeing order 66 so much more tragic to watch. I’ve learned who aayla secura is, who plo koon is, who the clones are, so it’s so much worse watching it unfold :(

-yoda being carried by chewbacca.. a) yoda cannot resist a piggyback ride b) him being the size of a child taps into the part of my brain that fantasizes about settling down with a nice girl and having her baby with ivf. what maternal juice drugs is in that species

-tcw was often bad at portraying women (the overly sexualized costume designs, for one), but women did get more agency. I’m an hour and a half deep in this movie and padme has done next to nothing to affect the story. by agency i mean acting upon the plot. padme does not act upon the plot. she is acted upon by the other characters. hope that makes sense!

-the dialogue on mustafar is. uh. not to my liking, i have to say, but towards the end of his one on one with padme when obi wan steps out is when I could begin to see darth Vader as we know him in the original trilogy. yeah, we’ve seen how anakin is being pulled to the dark side, but he tells the council that palpatine is the sith lord. he’s friends with obi wan, practically brothers. here is when i can really connect the two in my mind

-the infamous only a sith deals in absolutes line, which is in itself an absolute. the prequels could have been incredible if only there’d been a script advisor capable of saying no to George Lucas

-the grampas are fightinggg

-the anakin obi wan fight choreography seems okay, so why is it being shot like they don’t want us to see it? only getting to see the lightsabers flashing around like a siren light makes it look like they were trying to fix a sloppy action scene in post when it looks perfectly fine

-palpatine thrown ass over teakettle onto his spinny chair. i love this movie and i wish I watched it when i was high on pain meds after getting my wisdom teeth taken out

-if yoda and obi wan had stuck together, they probably could have taken out palpatine and then vader if it was 2 on 1 for both fights. the only explanation for why they had to split up is that it had to happen for the original trilogy to still work. which isn’t all that satisfying for me

-yeaahhhh lava and volcanoes baby!!

-if i had a dollar for every time obi wan cut off a sith’s legs instead of killing them creating a nemesis with so many Problems…

-allow me to take a moment to appreciate ewan mcgregor’s acting chops throughout this whole trilogy

-the way padme and anakin parallel each other in how she’s creating life while dying and his life is saved by becoming a machine/less alive

-it makes sense to me, because of tcw season 6 finale, but qui gon being to one to rediscover becoming a force ghost must have been such a curveball when this movie first came out

-it’s not just coruscant the sky is absurdly lovely on tattooine as well??

-beru gets handed a baby out of nowhere and is like :)

hey! i did it. I’ve finally watched all of the main prequel era content. thank you for reading this far, making these posts has been fun for me. next up is going to be seeing Star Wars rebels for the first time!

[croaken-the-oaken]

“The Super Mario Bros. Movie 2023” Review: It Wasn’t Mid

***1 or 2 spoilers but not really***

Another video game movie. And this time, it’s starring Mario Mario, Mr. Video Game, himself. The Internet is shook. Nintendo, teaming with Illumination. It could very well set the standard for video game movies to follow. One thing is clear, all eyes are on this movie. 

My sister was especially excited for it. Me, I told myself I was watching out of obligation, since I didn’t want to miss out on the newest of the turbulent fancies of the Internet.

A number of doubts mixed with potential had settled in. Adapting movies from video games isn’t a terrible concept. It depends on the series. But this is Mario, what does he bring to the table? A colorful world and character list and, for two things. Then there’s the studio that infected the world with Minions. While Illumination falls back to safe tactics when it comes to storytelling and humor, they do have the talent in animation, and I knew the looming eyes of Shigeru Miyamoto-san would not allow the Mario movie to be less than amazing.

With all the factors to consider, my expectations were firmly set to “mid, at least.”

After watching, my conclusion is “Better than mid. Dare I say, good. Great, even.”.

It’s a movie. Actually, no, it’s a MOVIE! You got character arcs and motivations. You got worldbuilding. You got colorful graphics and settings. You got references sprinkled on like it’s a cupcake, even down to the background music. You get to see Mama Mia and Papa Pia!

It takes the loose bits and pieces of Mario canon, strings them together and retools them to make another thing, old but new, as is to be expected. Brooklynese Mario, brotherly bonds, Bowser’s love life, action Peach, power-ups as a power system, Kong society, etc. The narrative never strays far from its roots, and no one was asking it to.

On the off-chance someone has never heard of “the Super Mario Bros.” what are they left with? A quick romp through peculiar kingdoms and bright setpieces and nonsensical architecture, the adventure of a determined everyman searching for his bro, a corny yet actively threatening villain, a kart-racing monkey tribe, and a classic moral theme of not giving up so you can say your kid learned something from this experience.

Also, the more typical Illumination-esque quirks are few and far between, and it’s tolerable. The pop-music? Fine. Passable. They fit their moments well enough. The jokes land more often than not and don’t rely on cheap tactics. When the water started bubbling around Mario and Donkey Kong, I completely expected one of them to say “it wasn’t me”. But they didn’t, and I appreciate that. Nihilistic Luma was a bit forced, though.

The movie is fast-paced and doesn’t linger too long on characters’ low moments. It keeps the momentum going, but it doesn’t allow the more dramatic parts much time to sink in. I didn’t find it to be overwhelming, though I imagine this could be off-putting for some. I propose this kinetic pace is a byproduct of its source.

Miyamoto’s general philosophy of “gameplay-first, story-second” is a big contributor to Nintendo’s success—it makes good games. The problem is a lot of people mistake “second” for “last”. The neat part of the video game medium is that gameplay and story needn’t always grow at the other’s expense. One can reinforce the other. The man knows this, and this philosophy carries over into the Mario movie.

Rather than adapt a minimalistic-story game franchise into a movie, they adapted the movie into a game of how many secrets you can find in a given shot as the story progresses. We’re tugged along a guided tour of Mario legacy, and the world invites us over to be active participants and challenges us to eyeball every reference poking out from behind each corner.

It helps that it’s one of those good movies where the references and cameos have a reason to exist beyond being there. Is it a backdrop? That’s certified worldbuilding, baby. Is it at the forefront? It probably serves a primary purpose in the scene. It means the difference between respecting and insulting the viewer’s intelligence, and the film respects its viewers, whether a reference manifests as a generalized fun moment or as a reward for long-time fans.

They set out to create a lighthearted run through Mario’s world with emotional beats as checkpoints, and that’s what they made. It has its quirks, but I enjoyed myself, and it made my sister happy.

If one thing is true, it's that it is indeed the Super Mario Bros. Movie.

Rating: A Mario Time / 5

[lord-shitbox]

All of the questions with whatever ocs come to mind when you read the question

lol this is old. anyways

Brief summary: Bane, Moon, Az, & Sari are part of one story. Bane & Moon are the protagonists, Sari + Az (angels) are Moon’s (part-angel) family, in differing states of estrangement. taro & ayre are also in here but i dont think i used them for any questions

Bite & Bark (different story) are vampire and werewolf respectively. They hate each other and have a weird gay thing going on.

Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with?

Sari and Az consider themselves siblings but angels don’t have proper Family like humans do…most of them were all “born” out of this Thing at roughly the same time (beginning of known history) so you could say they’re vaguely all siblings but not really. Relationships between angels were more or less a matter of choice but they’ve all been stuck in their respective ways for an incredible length of time now & nobody feels like changing their minds. For better or worse they’re closest to each other than with other angels, but sari has way more friends than az 

What is/was your character’s relationship with their mother like?

Moon is SO a mama’s boy. He loved her a lot.

What is/was your character’s relationship with their father like?

Bite hates his vampire father. Being his vampire parent gives him significant power over his life and body, which he detests. Bite cannot kill him but he can get close —do NOT open that coffin in his dad’s study do NOT DO THAT— 

Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?

Uhhh. can’t think of a specific event they Witnessed but Bane did get sent to war

On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?

Moon carries around bandages and poultices etc to cover up his healing abilities. Bane has a silly number of hidden knives etc (his necklace is a garrote <3) but theyre not in his actual pockets because he isn’t an amateur  

Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams?

Never thought about this. Last night i myself had like 3 different nightmares but the only one I remember was me in a giant mall with a griffin that wanted to kill me (the recurring theme is Giant Mall Architecture)

Actually yeah now that i think about it. Bane dreams about things trying to kill him a Lot. 

Does your character have recurring themes in their nightmares?

Bite and Bark both. Bite’s are about that coffin in his vdad’s study (do NOT OPEN) and Bark’s are more abstract (have not decided)

Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target?

I dislike guns so none of my characters use them. In the old version of bane & moon’s story Bane probably had at least once or twice (shooting range or something) but I rewrote the story & ended up changing the setting so no more guns

Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up?

Moon was a peasant in a village as a kid but now he’s the esteemed knight of one of the country’s princes

Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?

Bane is a more clothing guy. 

In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?

The few months after the first time someone tried to kill Bane were the worst of his life

In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been?

Sari is a very calm person in general. He tries not to think about the most peaceful time of his life. To someone as old as him, it didn’t last very long

Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way?

nah

Does your character remember names or faces easier?

Moon would remember faces easier

Is your character preoccupied with money or material possession? Why or why not?

Sari's probably the most preoccupied with either of these things. He is very indulgent in the senses.

Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success?

Happiness all of them thanks

What was your character’s favorite toy as a child?

Never thought about this. Moon played in nature making flower crowns or throwing sticks etc

Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others?

I think Bane & Az admire ambition and Moon admires wisdom. Moon wants to learn more & is pretty chill ambition-wise, Az knows a lot but is TOO chill ambition-wise

What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before?

Lmao this is literally sari. “Leave them before they leave you” kinda guy but in a less insecure way than you’re thinking. Yes it has destroyed relationships.

In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism?

I think Bane and Taro are most likely to do this, for self-critical reasons. Maybe it’s because they were raised by the same family.

If something tragic or negative happens to your character, do they believe they may have caused or deserved it, or are they quick to blame others?

Moon kinda blames himself for his mother’s passing but also knows it’s not reasonable.

What does your character like in other people?

Bane appreciates trustworthiness. 

What does your character dislike in other people?

Bark hates people who don’t care about basic human etiquette (being nice etc). Bite hates people who think they can make decisions for him 

How quick is your character to trust someone else?

Moon is probably the fastest-trusting but he can also read peoples’ emotions, so he knows what to expect from others from the start 

How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person?

Bane trusts nobody he is extremely quick to suspect. Even when he gains one person he can trust he is the kind of person to suspect while trusting

How does your character behave around children?

Bane is a bit standoffish but polite. He doesn’t mind kids, but never really learned how to interact with them. Moon is much friendlier.

How does your character normally deal with confrontation?

They’re all me and i have issues leave me alone about it

How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation?

Bite’s temper is shortest. He’s not gonna start swinging before a few repeated threats but he does carry a switchblade

What did your character dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true?

Bane’s childhood dream was probably of escape. It takes some time but he gets there

What does your character find repulsive or disgusting?

Sari can’t stand how human bodies age and fall ill.

Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable.

Moon is very happy when he’s with his close family. AKA Bane and Az

Describe a scenario in which your character feels most uncomfortable.

Bane isn’t good with places and people he can’t escape from. If he doesn’t know how to get out of there he’s not happy

In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve?

Bane is like a stony-faced “Sorry. It won’t happen again.” kind of guy 

Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method?

Gotta try at least twice.

How does your character behave around people they like?

Friendship wise; Bane is… slightly less stony than usual. Moon and Bark are fairly standard brand of More Friendly & Bite is less of a cunt. 

How does your character behave around people they dislike?

Wjgen you figure out a way to behave around people you dislike that isnt ignoring them lmk. that is ingrained so deep into me i cant write characters who dont do it

Is your character more concerned with defending their honor, or protecting their status?

Honor comes w status and vice versa ..but Bite is a very status person. Could not give a shit about honor. Bark is unfortunately more of an honor person he wishes he could throw his status away

Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat?

Depends. Does it affect others or just them & is it less work to just avoid it? Az is more likely to remove herself from situations, she spent too much being the one eradicating things in her youth and has now overcorrected by trying to defer on everything. 

Has your character ever been bitten by an animal? How were they affected (or unaffected)?

Moon’s been bit before. Hes fine

How does your character treat people in service jobs?

Bite is either cold and brief with them or hits on them. This is how he met Bark

Does your character feel that they deserve to have what they want, whether it be material or abstract, or do they feel they must earn it first?

Most characters feel chronic unworthiness. Bite is probably the most entitled/unaware, but also Sari.. he thinks he deserves everything he wants tbh

Has your character ever had a parental figure who was not related to them?

Bane’s family is adoptive so for the most part his relatives are not related to him. Bite’s vampire dad is only his sire, didn’t create him from birth 

Has your character ever had a dependent figure who was not related to them?

No

How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it?

It’s probably easiest for Moon, when he means it. He could lie but isn’t super the type to. He loves people a lot. Az and Bane would definitely struggle with it especially when they mean it, but Bane could lie easier.

What does your character believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them?

When angels die, their essence returns to the thing that created them —sometimes it gets reused in the birth of a new, different angel, sometimes not. Az has thought about this a lot. She’s afraid that if she does die, she’ll become something new that’s Worse

[imaginewriting1]

meet you wherever you are

Ariana Grande x youtuber!reader

Part 11 of "positions"

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 5.5 (1) | 5.5 (2) | 5.5.5 | 6 | 7 | 7.5 | 8 | 8.5 | 9 | 9.5 | 10

You weren't one to celebrate birthdays, usually spending yours like it was every other day. The only difference was receiving a gift from Olivia due to her insistence. It was easy getting you one since you don't ask for much, and are appreciative of whatever you do receive. But that cannot be said the same for Ariana. What do you get someone who could get anything they wanted themselves, on top of what they already have?

It was a tall order, having to find something thoughtful but not too personal, luxurious but not too expensive, and practical yet valuable. Luckily for you, a quick Google search told you a bottle of wine and a bouquet are appropriate gifts.

On the day itself, you arrived at the given address four minutes before the event was supposed to start. You wasted 10 minutes pacing outside, waiting for Zendaya, and second-guessing your attendance. You might not have entered the premise if not for Victoria spotting you and ushering you in.

"It's been a while." She hugged you lightly once you crossed the threshold. "Ariana's at the bar area, just so you know. But feel free to mingle around and give some refreshments before the cake-cutting ceremony." With that, she left you to your devices.

It was an unfamiliar place - a house overlooking the hill that could easily appear in Architectural Digest. One you often dreamed of being in but now, it only made you feel out of place.

While you were on time, so were the other guests. Seemed like Ariana's birthday party was the one event to which the phrase "fashionably late" doesn't apply to.

It was easy to pinpoint where she was. All you had to do was look for the biggest circle of a crowd, and she would be in the middle like worker bees and their queen.

There was hesitation in your steps as you made your way to the birthday girl. However, you figured it was only polite to make your presence aware and greet her.

With people swarming around her, you could only catch glimpses of her; strands of black hair, a flash of a smile, a silver of skin. You shouldn't underestimate these sightings, no matter how fleeting they were.

Like needles, they were enough to draw blood. It was death by a thousand cuts, it was your worst fear being true. If seeing her again made it feel like no time had passed, how are you ever going to move on?

Ariana looked happy, surrounded by people who love her, people who she loves. You were happy for her, truly.

It would have been a complete truth if pain didn't ripple from your heart like a stone thrown carelessly into a pond. It was nothing you couldn't handle, but you wished you didn't have to, not when you had experienced needles on your skin. There were still remnants of bitterness that tainted your emotions and you couldn't let them stain hers too.

So you retreated slowly, turned around, and went to find some air.

You barely made it past the entrance door; your great escape. However, you stopped in your tracks, and couldn't take another step forward, not when your name sounds like that.

Inhaling deeply, you tried on a smile before turning around to face your captor. You hoped it wasn't as weak as your willpower. "Hi."

Ariana looked at you for a long while, like she was making sure you weren't just a figment of her imagination. "You actually came."

"Yeah. I RSVP'd." You swallowed. "Besides, I missed Myron. I wanted to apologize for not visiting him even though I promised to see him soon."

"Have you seen him?" Ariana played along with your half-truth.

"No, thought I might find him outside... in the driveway."

He was not, you confirmed when you found nothing but parked cars. So you gave up your pretense, which Ariana picked up on. "I think he's inside. Let's go back in." Her tone inflicted towards the end, making it sound more like a question than a command. You nodded, it's not like you could ever say no to her.

The smile she gave you in return branded itself on your soul and you bared the pain of it.

Before you could close the door behind you, the sound of the running engine grew in volume until you could see its source. A black car, with windows, rolled down as the driver communicated with the security guard. When it cruised closer and stopped, Zendaya popped out.

"Sorry I'm late," She waved at you, "the table read ran slightly longer than usual." You pulled her into a hug when she was within reach.

"No worries. Glad you made it." That was an understatement. Zendaya was a sight for sore eyes, someone you don't have to make small talk with, someone you can be yourself with at the party. "Zen, this is Ariana. Ariana, Zendaya."

"Nice to meet you, Ariana." Zendaya reached out to shake Ariana's hand.

Ariana took it, but it was the shortest handshake you ever witnessed in your life. "Zendaya. I didn't know you were attending." Ariana said with a polite smile. You were taken aback by the abrasive nature of her words. It was unlike her to be curt to people, unless... she doesn't like Zendaya for some reason.

Shit. You found yourself scrambling to say something, a strange anxiety coursing through your veins. You wouldn't have introduced them if you had known.

"I remember RSVPing that I was bringing a plus one." You spoke up, trying to diffuse the tension. "I'm sorry if it wasn't recorded or I actually didn't do so."

The change in Ariana's expression was scarily quick, if not for it appearing apologetic. "No, it did. I just thought... never mind. Let's head inside, shall we?"

You entered the mansion for the second time that day. It wasn't any better than the first, despite Zendaya being by your side.

You eventually found Myron, lying beside an unlit fireplace. He trotted towards you upon seeing you, greeting you with a small bark. He sniffed around Zendaya's calves after.

"Hi Myron." You freed your hand up to pat his head, "Sorry I didn't come to see you sooner. I got you, and your siblings to make up for it." For once, your indecision and your tendency to overthink proved to be useful. Besides the champagne and flowers, you bought some dog toys as an alternate present (albeit not something for Ariana herself), to use during playtime with her babies. You fished a chew toy out from your jacket pocket and placed it in front of him. "Here you go." Myron picked it up with his mouth immediately.

"What about me?" Ariana's voice pulled you to look up at her. "It's my birthday if you didn't know." The teasing lilt caused your lips to lift up slightly. It's a good thing she behaved amicably like the past few months didn't happen, like you were friends all this while. It eased the tension and gave you a script on how to act in return.

You stood up to face her properly. "Is it? Good thing I brought this too." You extended the bouquet of yellow roses and the bag containing the champagne bottle toward her. Even if Ariana was the only person in your sight, you were more than aware of the curious stares from the surrounding audience, like spectators to a prom proposal in a high school hallway. You forced your smile into a winning one. You watched her inspect the bottle label. "I hope they're to your liking. Zen and the sommelier recommended it." Something indescribable flashed in her eyes. "If it's not, I'll get you something else next time."

Ariana shook her head in response. "That's sweet of you but it's okay. I'm sure the champagne is great. I'll go keep it in the cellar and find a vase for the flowers."

Even if it was for a vastly different reason, you couldn't bear to see Ariana walking away from you any more than the last time. "Wait. Let me do it. It's your birthday, after all. So you should be enjoying yourself, not doing menial tasks."

"I can't possibly-" Ariana managed out before you interrupted gently.

"Please, I insist." You took the items from her grasp, before continuing. "If I saw correctly, there was a mini car in the living room. Go have fun, I'll be back soon."

Before you could step away, an arm slipped into the crook of your elbow. "I'll come with," Zendaya said, pulling you in motion before you could refute.

It was actually advantageous to have Zendaya accompanying you since she had more experience navigating such luxurious property. With her help, you found the wine cellar easily, leaving her to place the champagne bottle on an empty rack you can't reach. The vase was more of a challenge. Mostly because you wanted to minimize going through cupboards without permission.

Thankfully, you found someone that could point you to one when you wandered into the kitchen - Ariana's mom.

"Hello, Mrs Grande."

"Have you forgotten? Call me Joan"

"Joan," You amended, "Do you know where the flower vases are kept?"

"I'll go get one. In the meantime, could you help me set up the birthday cake?" Joan gestured at the countertop. Candles of different varieties are scattered around an opened cake box. You figured that your job was to choose an appropriate one for the cake. "You know what my daughter likes."

You don't know if that was still true, since things could have changed since you last saw her. However, you kept that thought to yourself.

"Of course, M- Joan. Zen, why don't you go with her with the bouquet?"

Zendaya agreed readily, taking the bouquet from you before following Joan out.

Going back to the task at hand, you first check the type of cake it was. Square in shape, with a layer of cream on the top, you assumed it was a vanilla-flavored cake. Instead of placing many candles to signify her age, you decided that one tall sparkle candle would do the trick.

You carefully insert it into the center, ensuring that it could stand upright on its own. After completing the simple task, you tidied up the area while waiting for Joan and Zendaya to return.

It was Courtney, unexpectedly, that caught you sitting idly when there was nothing else to do. "It's time for the cake-cutting ceremony. Joan asked me to bring the cake out." You complied, lifting it out from the box and handing it to her. She doesn't make any movement to receive it, however. "I think you should be the one to do it." She took your surprise as a reason to clarify further. "Consider it my birthday gift to her."

It doesn't explain much, but you were not one to argue, especially not with one of Ariana's closest friends. For all you know, you were seen as Ariana's "ex" and you don't want to jeopardize any goodwill from her.

Carrying the cake, you walked into a garden that came to life. It was a gorgeous setting with long tables and fluffy pillows and delicate flower arrangements. The birthday planners really went all out for the party (as they should).

Upon seeing the cake, everyone stopped whatever they were occupied with and started singing the birthday song. You would have joined along but all your focus went to steadying the cake in your hands and not falling flat on your face as you walked towards Ariana, sitting at the far end of the table. You were an arm's length from her just as the song ends, where she stood to receive the cake from you.

When she stared at you expectantly, you figured you should say something. "Happy Birthday," You congratulated, as sincerely as you could with the generic phrase, before adding on. "Ari." Shock colored her face, and she feared that you said something wrong, like greeting someone with the wrong name. That is what her friends call her, right? Maybe you haven't earned the right to do so yet. You changed the topic quickly, "You should make a wish."

Your suggestion seemed to pull her out of her paralysis, but her eyes remained fixed on yours for a beat longer before they looked down. You brought the candle closer to her lips, though ensuring that there was a safe distance for the sparks to fly.

You wondered what she could possibly wish for in the time her eyelids closed and opened. Most likely something she doesn't have, you thought as the fire goes out, as all wishers do.

Once the cake was cut up and served around, you went to find a seat for yourself. You spotted Zendaya waving over. "I saved you a seat!" You walked towards her appreciatively. It just happened to be on the other end of the table. With no other seats available, you plopped on top of the pillow.

Zendaya was seated on your right, while Victoria was on your left. Unlike her encounter with Ariana, Zendaya was hitting off with Victoria. You spent the time thoroughly examining the thread count of the tablecloth, admiring the floral decorations, and savoring the cake.

It was not what you expected. The texture and bite of it were unquestionably similar to tiramisu - from the layering of ladyfingers and mascarpone cream. The only thing different was taste, where you suspected the baker had to use white-colored food creatively white replicating the Italian dessert. The use of white chocolate and icing did not go unnoticed by you. With none of the coffee or cocoa powder, it was pure sweetness. It makes you want a second serving, but too much of a good thing could be bad.

Instead, you joined in on Victoria and Zendaya's conversations. "By the way, did you manage to find a vase?" You asked when the topic was about flowers.

"We did. Didn't you see your flowers over there?" You followed to where Zendaya was pointing at. And there they were, sitting in the middle of the table in a glass vase like a centerpiece.

"Oh. I didn't notice." You admitted. Though you wondered how you could miss it, given how it stood out among the polychromatic decorations around. As your eyes lingered, they gradually focused on the birthday girl behind them. Ariana must have sensed you, turning her head from someone in mid-conversation. You looked down before you got caught. Your eyes were far too honest and traitorous to your liking.

"Just go over to her already." You blinked back in surprise to find Victoria smiling at you knowingly. "It's what you came here to do anyway." It was worse when the same shade of realization crept onto Zendaya's features as she looked between you and Ariana. When she clicked her tongue, you felt a need to explain yourself.

"Well, she's clearly busy." You coughed up an excuse, but it was not exactly a lie either.

"Cut the shit. You want to go talk to her but you're forcing yourself not to. She wants you to come and approach her but something's holding her back." You don't know whether to sigh resolutely or to be surprised that Zendaya's right on the money.

"I don't know what you're talking about," You stated indignantly, proud of yourself for keeping your voice steady and your tone pressed. It was bad enough that these two (and Olivia) can read you like an open book, you don't need anyone else in on this too.

"Are you lying to me or yourself?" Victoria broke your train of thought and you pointedly look away from her, afraid that you would give away much more than you already had — afraid that you'll reveal something not just to her, but to yourself, that you won't be able to come back from.

"Fine. I'll talk to her later." You surrendered. "Eventually."

-

'Eventually' came sooner than expected, right after lunch. Everyone was either getting a drink or having a mini photo shoot while you stepped outside, away from the bustle. Zendaya sat beside you as you dangle your feet in the pool, staring out into the scenery.

"I'm sorry for being too direct earlier," Zendaya spoke up, breaking the silence. "I'm not aware of the entire picture and it's not my place to do so either."

You kicked lightly in the water, watching the water move out in waves. "You aren't exactly wrong. I do need to talk to her, can't avoid it any longer. I don't know what to say though."

"Want to tell me what happened between you two?"

You sighed internally, trying to find the words to explain your relationship with Ariana. "Long story short, we decided to remain friends after I confessed."

Zendaya patted your shoulder in sympathy. "But you still like her, don't you?" You now knew why Zendaya and Olivia were friends. You nodded wordlessly, unable to verbalize it. You did that once before, and the universe did not listen.

"This calls for a drink. I'll be right back." She stood and left before you could decline. Though she was right, you felt like you needed a drink.

(There was a day in May when the thirst to not feel anything overwhelmed you. You don't remember much of it, except a pounding headache when you woke up and the feeling of Olivia holding your hair as you threw up. The next day, you visited a reputable tattoo parlor a few blocks away.)

Something non-alcoholic and sweet, that's it.

You heard the wood planks creak under the weight of footsteps. "Back so-" You turned to see Ariana standing over you. "Oh. Hi."

You watched as the wind played with the hem of her dress, and you trained your eyes back to the pool. "Can I sit here?"

"Well, it's your house so..." You trailed off, moving your hands from your side to your lap, a gesture of invitation. The sound of people chattering filled the silence. You splashed your feet around gently, adding to the white noise.

Ariana broke the ice suddenly. "What were you doing out here?" Continuing much quietly after clearing her throat. "Besides hanging with Zendaya."

You resisted the instinct to turn your head, looking up instead. "Just admiring the sky I guess. The moon's out early today." While you weren't looking at her, you knew she was taking a photo of it. "You know when they say you're feeling lonely all you have to do is look up. You carried the conversation, knowing how fascinated she was with space. "Because there's nothing lonelier than space. All that orbiting but never coming close to ever touching."

Ariana hummed in agreement, a melodious little sound. Even if they weren't visible, you wished upon all the stars - shooting or dying - for Zendaya to come back quickly. For once, your prayers were answered.

"Here you go." Zendaya handed you a glass filled with pink-colored liquid. You took a whiff gingerly, causing her to smile "Don't worry, it's fruit punch."

She sat down on your left, her previous spot still occupied by Ariana "Sorry I didn't get one for you." Zendaya continued, addressing Ariana behind your shoulders, to which she replied, "It's fine. I'll go get one myself."

Zendaya watched Ariana leave on your behalf, making sure she was out of earshot before asking. "Had your talk?"

"If you could call it one." You said, before downing your drink in one go. She wrapped one arm around you in comfort. Her shoulder was at the perfect height for your head to lean against, when you felt drained all of a sudden.

AN: early access to later chapters on my ko-fi page. also feel free to DM or ask anonymously for any questions.

[pinquot]

A few words I won't say, to someone who won't see them here or anywhere else It's my birthday and I woke up from a dream about you. I dream of you often. It's usually nothing too interesting; in the good ones I have done something impressive for you or at least in front of you, making you think I'm worthwhile. In real life you've never had any particular reason to think that, or anything else, about me. We barely knew each other in school and I haven't spoken more than a dozen words to you since, none of them consequential. I suspect I seldom cross your mind if I do at all, and that you wouldn't guess how often you're on mine. And all that is fine with me. I don't think I'd leap at the opportunity to befriend or know you now. The you-who-you-are in the present is not the one occupying space in my subconscious, and maybe the me-who-I-am now isn't the one recollecting you anyway. I'm not even confident I'd like you if we knew each other better, and I don't think it'd change anything if I didn't, or did.

It would be silly, given all these facts, to say that I have ever loved you, as little as I know you. I'd have to find some weasel word like "revere" to describe how I felt about you when we were kids. But realistically I suppose I did love you anyway. In the way that you can love the Grand Canyon without visiting it or knowing how many meters deep it is or what it smells like in the rain or the names of its native flora. You don't really have a relationship with it, but maybe you love it anyway. Maybe you revere it. Maybe you're glad it's there, or you just saw it once and never got over it. In honesty, what exists in my thoughts and dreams isn't really you; it can't be. It's something with your name and face, though; something that is fed when I remember the sound of your laughter, or when I hear a song and wonder if you've heard it, and if you liked it. I have loved and revered others since, and to what now seem much greater extents, than I ever did you; only they aren't in my head the way you are. Somehow whatever I felt about you at that exact point in my life constructed some architecture in my brain of which you're an integral load-bearing element that cannot be broken down or hidden away. I suppose, insecure and socially defective child that I was, I wanted your approval more than anything in my stupid little world (approval which you neither gave me nor denied me, any more than the Grand Canyon does) and I did that just long and hard enough at some crucial moment in my development that even now there's something deep in my animal brain desperately insisting that I need and want it. If I was telling you any of this to your face -- if we were improbably trapped in a stalled elevator together or something while a meteor was hurtling toward the earth giving all humanity mere hours to live, which is the only circumstance I can think of under which I'd consider doing so -- I'd say I was sorry and, kind as you seem to be, you'd probably say you were sorry too and neither of us would really have a sense of what exactly we did wrong. I'm not sure what I ever could have done to feel otherwise, to stop dreaming of some distant acquaintance with a life and family so far removed from mine that they may as well be a stranger. Sometimes I wish I didn't have these dreams but it's more because I'm embarrassed for myself than because they cause pain. You're too much a part of me to hurt me.

[normal-thoughts-official]

Character ask thing with Joe

Ugh I love you /platonic

favorite thing about them

Hmm how to choose. I guess I'll repeat myself and say, once again, the way he feels everything so intensely as if it's the first time. The fact that he has lived for nearly a thousand years and still experiences everything with such intensity, such fresh eyes, such delight at being alive and sadness at everything that's unfair is just. Really admirable to me? And makes him really interesting as a character. The way that he's a formidable warrior but is a lover not a fighter, but the fact that he's a lover just makes him a stronger and more intense fighter... Yeah

least favorite thing about them

not to be a stan but I genuinely can't think of anything about him I dislike. I guess his lack of screentime? Lol

favorite line

"you and Nicky always had each other. And all we had was our grief" "well, now you have even more"

everyone talks about how devastating Nicky is with just a few words (and it's true, he is and it's iconic) but Joe is just as good. Everything he says to Booker in that scene is so cutting and to the point and perfect. He doesn't minimize Booker's suffering but he doesn't allow for his bullshit either. He breaks through Booker's entire self pitying tirade in such a cutting, objective way that there's not much else Booker can even say. And he's right, he does have even more, because that's what it's all about, whether or not you move on, and ugh, it's just so good

brOTP

Joe and Nile forever and ever. Give me art nerd bros!!! Give me Joe and Nile bonding over being the only POC in the group. Give me Joe and Nile being able to understand parts of each other no one else in the group does or can, because their experience is different. Give me Joe and Nile being a breath of fresh air to each other because they both wear their heart on their sleeves, they're both earnest and genuine and still openly in love with the world and the new experiences they can have while everyone else is kind of used to everything by now. Joe and Nile both not really being fighters at heart (in the comics Nile says she went to the army so she could go to college and major in art history later) and finding solace in each other. Joe and Nile getting into intense debates about art that go well into the night until the sun is rising and they're like "huh?" and sheepishly stare at Nicky when he rises to make his coffee and is all like "I trust you had an enlightening discussion, yes?" Just... Joe and Nile <3

OTP

There's really only one possible answer to this question

nOTP

Everything that's not Joe/Nicky is just weird to me but I'd have to go with Joe/Nicky/Booker. Please stop. Joe may like greasy white men but not to THAT extent (this is a joke please be normal everyone)

random headcanon

Joe has degrees in a BUNCH of different subjects, from architecture to botany, and "renews" them regularly under different aliases. His scope of interests is just very wide and every once in a while the mood will strike him to learn something apparently random and when everyone blinks Joe is getting a degree in zoology and they're just like. Alright

unpopular opinion

Not sure how unpopular this opinion is but like. Listen to me. You listen to me. I'm bisexual. I love bisexual people. My favorite thing for a character to be is bisexual. I'm out there hitting everyone in my shooting range with the bisexualizing rays, but Joe? Joe is gay, man. I'm sorry I wish he was a bicon too but there is simply no way this man is attracted to women. At the tender age of 33 this guy was crossing the ocean to go fight a war he had literally 0 business participating in, and that to me is the mark of someone who's running away from having to marry a woman. Or to run from an existing marriage which might be even gayer. Even without that I simply cannot picture him looking at a woman's body with anything more than mild disinterest. If a woman got naked in front of him he'd be like "you lost your clothes" and dress her back up with one of those sticks with mouths in them. We must accept this and embrace the fact that the tog bicon is and will always be Andy

(This is, once again, a joke. You can hc what you like. I'm not the Emperor of Fandom stopping you from enjoying whatever you want. This is just my opinion said in a humorous way because I'm a clown. Peace and love on planet Earth)

song i associate with them

Hmmm you know I actually had, like, Real Thoughts™ about this but somehow every one of them fled my mind rn. I'll go with Antenne by Bashar Murad. Just, like, the whole thing about wanting to be away from the avalanche of information and people questioning your humanity and treating your existence as a debate, you know? And wanting to have time to breathe and live in the moment. Yeah. I think that's very Joe

(If you've never listened to Bashar Murad you should give it a try btw this man is amazing. And the clip of Antenne on YouTube has English subtitles for those who don't speak Arabic)

favorite picture of them

Oh Jesus Lord how to even choose. Genuinely looking at him too long in any capacity makes me want to cry and feel insane. There is a fine line between "I'm looking at Joe and it makes me feel comforted and happy" and "I'm looking at Joe and it's making me want to explode" and I walk it every time I look at him. But I guess I can go with the one on my header

[ID: Joe sitting on a chair, reading a book. He has one leg crossed over the other and is turning to look to his side, eyebrows raised and a very faint smile on his face. End ID]

I just. Augfhhhhhhh. Psychic damage. He's so soft. I have crossed the line. Fuvk

[luvwich]

a ficlet and a mixtape

well i wasn't planning on doing @silverv-week but i cought da bug and even made a whole dang playlist—

i will be posting silverv stuff on ao3 here!

august 4: dreams

"How about dreams, then?"

How'boutem, peaches?

Trailing a bit too far behind V like a disloyal hound, Johnny scuffs his boots on the pavement. Each drag of his heel whispers through her own feet in faint reduplication. She has grown to tolerate these constant echoes much as one gets used to the drafts of an old apartment building.

But she has not gotten used to how damned shifty he is. Getting a straight answer out of him feels like threading an eel through an eyelet half the time. For two people sharing a head, the gulf between them could hardly be wider. She sighs.

"When I'm asleep," she says, "where are you, precisely?"

Same damned place I always am. He turns his head to hock a volley of digital phlegm onto the sidewalk. You think I'm off lounging on a beach in Bali when you're down for the count?

"Christ, Johnny, what'd that pavement ever do to you? Anyway, I thought perhaps you'd experience my REM activity the same as I do." She shrugs. "It's no matter to me if you don't want to talk about it."

Eh. Yeah. Can get sorta a glimpse of what's going on in that little noggin of yours. Tell you what, it's nothin' worth tuning into most of the time. His stride shifts up a gear to catch up with her. It doesn't make sense that he has to do this, but he's overcome by the sensation of falling behind.

"Hm," she says.

She pauses to lean against the trunk of a street lamp, and he's just about to start giving her grief about wasting time, but she lights a cig and the gratitude stills his tongue. Together, they buzz.

This part of Westbrook is barely recognizable. Used to be a filthy bastion for artists, real bohemians, visionaries. Now it's all souvenir stands and false nostalgia. Johnny's disgust filters through the fine mesh of V's psyche and gets pulverized into curiosity. She grips the cigarette like it's a dart, casting her gaze down the bustling avenue.

"I wonder," she says, "what this street looked like when you were alive."

Looked like shit. But it didn't have your dumb ass standing on it, so in that sense, it was better.

She's smiling. Johnny knows she's smiling because he can feel it like a superstition. It is like when you look up at a clock and realize you knew exactly what time it was, somehow, before you looked. That's all she ever does when he needles her, when he scrapes and scuffs, when he's snide and unpleasant and himself. A dulcet little smile, untroubled, serene. He's even felt her do it while she's dreaming.

"Right, then." Smoke blooms from her nostrils. "If you're done being awful to me, we need to make ourselves some money."

They rejoin the crowds, stepping away from the question of dreams. And if he were the engram of someone more brave and resolute than Johnny Silverhand, he might be able to give her the real answer. If a better man were locked up in her mind, that man might find it in himself to admit, yeah, Vania, I see your dreams like I see everything else. I've seen the little flat where you grew up and heard the bells of the church down the road. Felt how much your mother loves you. Shit, that was nice.

He might add: And when things are really fuckin' bad, it's what I cling to. When we're in a dicey situation I find myself thinking, damn, sure hope I get to lay down in her bed again tonight, let those dreams wash over me.

Your mind's like a garden, V, he might tell her. It's all walled-up and overgrown and there's some weeds in there but it's like nothing I've known about being a person. Never knew it was possible to not be haunted. To just dream of things like trees, and perfume, and architecture. And your dreams are a chest of rubies and I wanna tuck myself away in there and never leave, sometimes, you bitch.

But he's indispensably himself, and won't say it.

Now he has fallen behind again. Feels her swishing ahead of him even though they're in the same body, barreling into the future with a hum in her throat. There's still a whole lot of eddies between them and Hellman; sleep is so far away for them both. Johnny rushes to catch up.