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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

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Millie’s Massive Fic Rec Post

To celebrate 700 followers I’m showing all the love, people. What you’ll find here are fics that were sent to me who I agree deserve a bit more love as well as fics I’ve read and adored. They’re split into characters so all you need to do is scroll to find your fave and bask in its glory. There is some swearing but it’s only because it’s the only way I know how to express my feelings. This is also my thank you to each of the authors involved for taking the time out of their day to write these fics for free. There are also some authors I know I’ve forgotten and I am so so sorry if I have, I promise you it wasn't intentional, I love you all very much.

As always, I love and appreciate you all. Let’s get started on this ridiculously long post!!

Harry Potter:

Don’t Walk Away - @kalimagik - THE ANGST. I was on the edge of my seat through it all; I knew what was coming but did I look away? No. I was completely sucked it and that ending... oh my god, I was broken. If you’re looking for an incredibly written piece of angst that has you in tears, then this is the fic.

Dandelions - @lupins-sweater - The first post of A Very Harry Potter Summer and it was kicked off so brilliantly!! This fic had me wishing for my very own Harry to take morning walks with. It’s so wonderful; it has you wanting a summery morning and dandelions to make wishes on.

Always You - @bl597 - inspired by Louis Tomlinson’s song Always You, so I was already sold on that front. It’s an angst piece - Harry pining from afar, regretting his decisions but with a happy ending. I love that it's written from his perspective, that he realises what he’s done. I really do love this fic, and I aim to work my way through her masterlist!

The Truth Behind The Kiss - @justauthoring - the anticipation from the first sentence, I was on the edge of my seat. I loved every single word of this fic, it’s written so well. I just, I need you all to read this fic bc it is SO GOOD. Harry, Triwizard tournament, feelings, fluff - it has it all.

For how long? - @siriusly-addicted-to-writing - It seems for Harry fics I am drawn to angst even though I write nothing but fluff for him. This fic is no different. Dani, this fic is wonderful, I love it. You capture the angst brilliantly! Go read this everyone!

Ron Weasley:

“can we pretend I never said that?” - @hello-everyfandom - I love this so much! Ron calling himself ‘the snog master’ had me snorting out loud - it’s great. And then the dialogue continues to be brilliant. I really enjoyed this fic! Ron needs more attention people!!

Crossing Lines - @kalimagik - ADORABLE. CUTE. WONDERFUL. Oh, Ron. Everything about this fic is marvellous. The relationship between Ron and the reader, the realisation, the meddling. It was perfect, so so perfect.

birthday - @lupinsdarling - FLUFFY AND CHAOTIC AND I LOVE IT. Why oh why doesn't Ron get more love? Why doesn't this fic have more attention? It’s so fluffy and Ron is so bloody cute that my heart physically hurt while reading this. It hurt because it was so PURE.

Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley:

Girls in one room - @eleven-times-lively - Hermione x Reader - oh my god I snorted at Ron, I love it. And the fluff? There’s so much fluff, I can't deal with the fluff. If you’re going to read a Hermione fic, read this one!

just as lovely - @vanillann - this is so pure! it’s so wonderful, and the relationship between Hermione and the reader is so cute!

Hug ur friends drabble - @firewhisky-kisses - Ginny x Reader - it’s the cutest thing I’ve read, oh my god, is it cute! I love everything about this, Steph is so talented! But I go into that further down.

Neville Longbottom:

Never the Bride - @obsessedwithrandomthings - Dee’s fic reads as a rom com, it’s so brilliantly done. By the time you're at the end, you feel as if you’ve just watched a two hour rom com and need to squeal into your pillow because of the feels. I love this fic.

Moonlight Swim - @kalimagik - Neville. Oh, Neville. This fic stole my heart and it won't give me it back. The idea of a moonlight swim with Neville? Here for it. And the confession? *chefs kiss* incredible.

Healing - @firewhisky-kisses - I cannot put into words how much I loved this fic,. Steph is just so incredibly talented and writes Neville so wonderfully. Healing is the first fic of two and that second part had me in happy tears because Neville deserves the world. I go back and reread this a lot when I need to boost my emotions, so thank you for this Steph.

Good News - @peachesandpinks - Let me explain something here, Ron repeatedly and without fail hypes up fic writers to the point where she makes me cry happy tears at her comments. Her writing (and I'm going to swear now) is fucking brilliant. I love it, I adore it. Ren has a way with words that I only hope to master. This fic? Marvellous, magnificent, wonderful - pick a synonym and go wild. It’s so sweet and wholesome - what more could you possibly want other than to be on her taglist?

Tally Marks - @obsessedwithrandomthings NEVILLE WITH TATTOOS PEOPLE! NEVILLE! WITH! TATTOOS! Do I need to say anymore? Yes? Okay. Dee is a fantastic writer but she writes Neville perfectly. We have had many conversations about her love for Neville and her love for him shines through in this fic. She writes with such care and I love reading everything.

Draco Malfoy:

The Purist - @mxl-foy - This series is so good. Like, so good, that if it was a physical book, it would be sat on my shelves. I would religiously check her account every time I came onto Tumblr to see if a new chapter was posted, and if there was, you best believe there was a happy dance. It’s so incredibly thought out and plotted. And there’s going to be a part two! It’s so great!

Notes - @malfoys-demigod - This is so sweet! I live for fluffy Draco as you all know if you read my Draco fics, but I adore reading fluffy Draco as well. This fic is so adorable, I love it!

Always so Cold - @teheharrypotter - Five times Draco gave you his sweater and the one time you accepted. I love these sort of fics, they’re my indulgence fics. Jealous!Draco is one of my favourite things to read as well. and he’s so dramatic. I couldn't ask for more in a fic, definitely one of my favourites.

the distance between us - @sdicapriox - This is a genius idea. I love this idea, and I love how it was executed. Almost 10k words of brilliance. I love the reader and her first letter to Draco and her entire personality - fish funeral? genius. I really like how you portray Draco and the effort you put into his internal monologue, it really is something excellent. The ending as well, I won't spoil, I just urge people to read this.

Heartbreak - @slytherinprincess03 - you have to have a little bit of angst in a Draco fic rec right? This fic has it but the ending is perfect and fluffy, gah! I love it!. Not to mention, Draco is such a gentlemen in it. I can't wait to see what else you write, lovely!!

Hardly A Date - @fanficflaneuse - I love this fic. I love it so much. I tend not to read sibling!reader but I adored this. The relationship between Harry and the reader, and then Draco and the reader. It’s amazing. I could rant for hours and hours about how much I love her work - her series are out of this world and she captures Draco’s character perfectly.

George Weasley:

Red with Rage - @kalimagik - AGH ANOTHER OF MAGGIE’S FICS. The prank? Genius, and that end line - incredible. Her characterisation of the twins is so good, I love reading her fics. She deserves more than 300 followers! So if you don’t already follow her, go now!

When Everything Changes - @strawberriesonsummer - Based on the song Everything Has Changed by Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran. This is so pure, it’s so fluffy. George is adorable in this! I can't wait to read what else you write for George!

Come back to you - @dreamer821 - JJ, JJ, JJ. Ugh, this fic is a work of art and George is so bloody caring. I mention this a lot but the relationship between George and the reader is so important to get right and JJ does it flawlessly. My heart hurts for this fic and that last line, LOVE IT. I live for how JJ writes George, I could read her work all day. GO READ HER STUFF, YOU WON’T REGRET IT.

Fred Weasley:

The Right Bird - @dreamer821 - I’m not only just involving this because it was used in my writing challenge but oh my days, it is so wonderful. The relationship between Fred and the reader is just *chefs kiss* perfect. JJ has such a way with words and I just love how she depicts Fred.

Lost, are we? - @prongsies - I think I’m going to make my way through your masterlist because I loved this so much. The teasing was so cute, and Fred helping her at the beginning? Ahhhhh brilliant.

Watermelon Sugar - @prongsies - COMPLETING THE FINEST SERVICE TO THE HP FANDOM AND WRITING FICS INSPIRED BY FINE LINE - I SALUTE YOU. This is so good, so so good. The references to the song are used so well and that little bit of fluff at the end? Amazing. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to put the song on repeat now...

Percy Weasley:

Nothing We Can’t Forgive - @firewhisky-kisses - This series really does showcase Steph’s talent. She’s an incredible writer and this fic deserves all the attention it can possibly get. It’s the first Percy fic I’ve ever read and I’m already planning a reread. Steph captures Percy’s character flawlessly whilst also depicting his healing in a manner that is so relatable. I’ve linked the masterlist because once you start reading, you won't want to stop.

Sight is Relative - @hufflefluff-writer - This fic has a blind reader which I think makes it all the more beautiful. Amelia’s characterisation of Percy really is wonder, she captures him brilliantly. The fic after they eat is quite literally breathtaking. The description of colours, the dialogue - it’s fantastic.

Hufflepuff!Reader Headcanons - @soft-nerdy-wolf - I loved this from the beginning where the reader was already helping Percy out of his comfort zone by disregarding curfew. Then the further, I read, I loved more and more because of how fluffy it is! And the confession? So so sweet! This needs more attention!

Bill Weasley:

Estrellita - @fanficflaneuse and @hufflefluff-writer - It is a fic inspired by the Sound of Music, what more could you possibly want? It’s so delicate and incredibly written by two extremely talented writers. The relationship between Bill and the reader = adorable. The whole series is so fantastic, I’ve linked part one and you’ll find the rest on Amelia’s masterlist, which you’ll need because you’ll be reading the entire thing in one sitting, I swear.

Charlie Weasley:

As Family the First Time - @kalimagik - you’ll have noticed that Maggie features a lot here but that’s because she is so damned talented that I adore most of her fics. The first Charlie Weasley fic I read and I fell in love. It’s just so fluffy and humorous with features from the whole Weasley family. Basically, by the end of it I was ready to raise dragons in Romania with a certain Weasley.

Meeting the Weasleys - @soft-nerdy-wolf - This made smile all sorts of stupid. From the beginning, I wanted to own Hepaestus (the perfect name for a dragon in my opinion - Zeus’ own forger, amazing.) And the fluff with Charlie straight after? I love, love, love it as well as the fun relationship they have. And the pranks with Fred and George? Ah! I just love.

Dragons blurb - @hufflefluff-writer - I know it’s only a blurb but oh my god, I loved it, I love it. Jealous!Charlie and a buttload of fluff - the best to boost your mood.

Cedric Diggory:

A Ghost Story - @wondernimbus - So beautifully haunting. Ysa has a way with words that make you feel as if you're physically there, living the fic alongside the characters. There aren't really any words to describe how talented Ysa is - all I can do is urge to read her masterlist and discover for yourself.

My Boys - @potterverseimagine - Cedric and dogs - I am in love. This fic is so sweet and pure and playful. Playful Cedric is so great omg and this fic is full to the brim with it. I just... ah I love this so much. AND HE’S ALIVE. I LOVE FICS WHERE HE’S ALIVE. Thank you for this!!

It’s a Date - @angelinathebook - Lena, this is so good. You need to write more Cedric! Ah, I hate those boys so much but I love Cedric!! This is so good! Cedric needs more love 100% - if you haven't read this already, you need to read it now!!

Sirius Black:

Lost Time - @obsessedwithrandomthings - Reader standing up for who she loves against Bellatrix? Yes, we love that. Slow burn romance with Sirius? I love that even more. Dee never fails to astound me when she writes Sirius, and I know she won’t fail to astound you too. Seriously (lol), go through Dee’s masterlist, read her works, you won't regret it. She’s the loveliest.

Our Godson - @nebulablakemurphy - Christina is so talented. The letters!!! Are so good!!! AND WHEN THEY FINALLY MEET? My heart! Christina, it's as if you broke it and then rebuilt it again all in the span of 2.8k words especially with that ending. I love this fic, and you will love this fic.

Curiosity - @siriusly-the-best-gryffindor - I don’t know what else to say that I haven't already said in my reblog but I love this fic. I am heavily pierced and heavily tattooed and I love seeing a reader as the same. I love all of this fic, it 100% needs more love!

The Jimmy Jab Games - @im-a-writer-right - A Sirius fic inspired by Brooklyn-99. I loved every single chapter, it made me so happy. And that final chapter, I was smiling like a fool throughout. Sirius is a dream through this, and that bet? I love! I’ve linked the masterlist because you won’t want to move as you read.

Secrets and fears - @firewhisky-kisses - Steph does it again with the masterpieces. Honestly, I squeal a little whenever I see her in my notifications with a new fic because everything she writes is stellar, and this is no exception. If you’re going to read anything tonight, let it be her masterlist. If you haven't read her latest Sirius piece as well, you are sorely missing out.

Remus Lupin:

Protect - @obsessedwithrandomthings - Oh man, this one hurt. There are so many feels to this fic, so many layers. The enemies to lovers? Amazing. That ending as well - so fucking good. Like everything Dee writes, so fucking good.

Sleeping Beauty - @poppin-potter - This is adorable. There’s no other words for it. The relationship between the reader and Remus is so cute, I was smiling all the way through it. Not to mention the relationship between the reader and the Marauders, so bloody good. And that ending? It was so peaceful, like I was reading and I was like yeah, I would’t mind a piece of that.

Pain of reality - @heloisedaphnebrightmore - I had to involve some Remus angst, and oh my word. You smashed my heart into pieces in the beginning and had put it back together by the end. Heloise is an incredible writer, so so talented. This is a Remus fic you cannot miss out on!

Bruise and Scars - @peachesandpinks - Soulmate AU and Marauders Era Remus. What more could you possibly want? It’s poetic. If you look to my Neville section, you’ll see why I love Ren’s writing so much but let me tell you, I am a SUCKER for Remus. Always have been, always will be. You will not regret reading this fic or any of Ren’s fics.

Nights like These - @teheharrypotter - another fic in A Very Harry Potter Summer and the description in this fic is so good! The way the summer night described has you feeling every moment of it. And the conversation between Remus and the reader is so beautiful, where they touch upon their grief. It’s a wonderfully written piece of work.

James Potter:

Numb Love - @heloisedaphnebrightmore - Unrequited love is like my guilty pleasure because I love the angst of it, and this fic. Oh this fic, it destroyed me and I loved every single minute of it. How this fic doesn't have more notes, I have no clue. It’s a masterpiece of emotions.

Reading between the lines - @approved-by-dentists - ohhh this fic is great, I love the flirtation between the reader and James in the beginning all the way to end. It was one of the first James fics I read (I’m late to the party, I’m well aware) and omg I love it. Just go read the fic!

Book-thief - @wondernimbus - I’m going to repeat my words from earlier, there are no words to describe Ysa’s talent. James Potter and a bookshop and I was sold. She captures his character so brilliantly. Just... go binge her work.

Summer revelations - @pregnant-piggy - I keep saying this about all the fics I put on here but I love this fic! I love it! First, I love James. Second, I need those muffins - seriously, where can I get these muffins? And their realisations and confessions! It’s such a pure fic, I’m absolutely in love with your portrayal of James.

Newt Scamander:

Cheeky Niffler - @eleven-times-lively - reader is an archaeologist - from that moment, I was sold. I loved reading this, I loved the idea and I love Niffler as it is! I always need more Newt in my life and this is perfect.

Online Love - @strawberriesonsummer - Modern AU! I really loved this idea, I love the idea of Newt with a phone and ringing the wrong number. It’s such a wonderful fic, I haven't read Newt in so long so this was such a lovely one to read! I can’t wait to read what other Newt fics are posted!

desire - @blisfvll - I am a huge fan of their works; their Draco fics are incredible and their Newt fics are just the same. This had me feeling all sorts of emotions, and I loved every second of it.

You stared Newt right in the eyes. - @fantasticnewtimagines - I didn't know what the title to this was so I just type out the first sentence, I hope you don't mind! This is a delicious piece of angst with a lovely, happy ending. I adore this piece so much because it conveys so much. I love it!!

MARVEL:

I want to take a moment to appeal to the followers of mine who also enjoy reading marvel. @shaynawrites23 has started to write some marvel fics and even entered my writing challenge and her fics definitely deserve some attention! She’s a wonderful writer and her fics are so cute! If you’re a fan of Bucky, you’ll love these fics!

Catty

Soulmate

Rosy Proposal

1K notes · View notes

sankyeom · 3 years

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picture perfect | k.m

pairings: kevin moon x reader genre: art student au, strangers to lovers, art!student kevin, actor!reader, another secret admirer situation (yes i know we already did that in my sangyeon fit but it’s cute so idc) summary: in which you find a sketchbook filled with drawings of you, and go on a mission to find the owner word count: 8.5k (these just get longer and longer wow) series: sankyeom’s 2k followers celebration

masterlist

Your psychology professor always spoke a mile a minute, and it made taking notes unnecessarily difficult. Usually when she lectured, your wrist cramped from writing so fast, and your classmates couldn’t wait to get out of the room. On one particular autumn afternoon, you stared into nothingness as your professor gave a lecture on Milgram’s experiments, running lines in your head instead of taking notes like you usually did.

When you were cast as one of the lead roles (who didn’t even have that many lines to begin with) in your University’s winter play of An Ideal Husband, you were ecstatic to be given a new challenge. You had never been involved in acting or theatre before University, and you always felt like you were behind your peers. Your excitement soon morphed into something less productive: fear.

You were so afraid to mess up and disappoint your peers that you frequently did poorly in rehearsals and were the source of your cast’s frustrations. Perhaps it was your lack of experience, or perhaps it was because you didn’t really have any faith in yourself. Either way, it was all you could think about.

As your classmates started packing up to leave, you realised that the lecture was over and that you had just been in your own head for over an hour without learning anything from your class. Scrambling to pack up, you put away your notebooks and pencils as your phone chimed. Checking the text, you saw a message from your friend Sunwoo asking if you wanted to get lunch with him.

Getting to your feet, you texted Sunwoo that you were down for lunch as you exited the now empty lecture hall. As you left, you felt your shoe come in contact with a solid object in the doorway; a notebook that somebody must have dropped on the way out. Knowing that you would want your notes back if someone found them – especially in this class, where your professor spoke way too fast – you opened the notebook to see who it belonged to.

Your breath caught in your throat.

It wasn’t a notebook, it was a sketchbook. With a drawing of you on the first page.

At first, you scolded yourself for assuming that the person in the drawing was you. It was presumptuous of you, wasn’t it? But the texture, colour, and length of the person’s hair perfectly matched yours. The person in the picture had your eyes, skin, clothes, and smile.

Perhaps it wasn’t so arrogant of you to presume that you were being depicted in the drawing.

“That’s a lovely drawing,” Professor Shin, who was on her way out, complimented. “You’re an excellent artist.”

You glanced up from the page, feeling a little dizzy. “It’s not mine,” you admitted, head spinning at the idea of somebody drawing you. Plain, simple, me? You couldn’t believe it. “I just found it here on the floor.”

“Looks like somebody admires you,” your Professor mused, smiling before bidding you farewell, leaving you standing in an empty lecture hall, clutching the sketchbook in your hands.

You tried to find a name on the other side of the cover, but there was no number or form of identification anywhere. The only thing that alluded to an identity was the small signature at the bottom right corner of the drawing.

Moon scribbles.

The first time Kevin saw you, he was seated three rows behind you in one of his Cultural Anthropology classes last semester. You were jotting notes as quickly as possible, brows furrowed together in concentration as you gripped your pen hard enough for your knuckles to turn white.

Kevin didn’t take any notes that day.

All the could do was watch you, appreciating the way your expressions changed as you understood the content, and the hesitance on your face when you volunteered an answer during class.

He didn’t mean to start drawing you. You had simply inspired him to pick up his pencil and start sketching, the soft strokes of the lead slowly but surely forming shapes that resembled your eyes, nose, lips…

Kevin didn’t think that you’d be all he could draw from that moment onwards. Even during his art classes; if the assignment was to study the scenery surrounding the University and draw a landscape, Kevin couldn’t get the image out of your face out of his head. Whether he used paint, charcoal, ink, or lead, it was your profile that emerged from his efforts.

Today was no different; Kevin was supposed to be studying the Psychology slides from class that day – which he hadn’t taken notes on because he was too busy sketching you – and yet he only had the urge to add the finishing touches to his drawing instead of facilitating his studying. Dragging his messenger bag over to his desk, Kevin rifled through it in search of his sketchbook. He had filled many, many pages with your face at that point, and it had become a habit for him to bring it everywhere with him in case he had the urge to draw.

Kevin furrowed his brows when he couldn’t find it. His heart pounded suddenly, the idea of him having lost his sketchbook in a place you might find it seeming terrifying and disastrous. After a final sweep of his bag – which included emptying it inside-out to make sure he didn’t miss anything – Kevin could only hope and pray that he’d find it before you did.

“You found what?” Sunwoo asked through a mouthful of noodles, his eyes comically large and rounded in surprise.

“A sketchbook full of drawings of me,” you replied in a monotone voice, knowing fully well that Sunwoo had heard and understood you the first time. This was the fourth time you had explained the situation, and it was starting to get a little old.

Eric narrowed his eyes, judging Sunwoo’s eating habits, before turning to face you. “Are the drawings cute?” he wondered.

“I wouldn’t say they’re cute,” you said absentmindedly, thinking back to the drawings you saw. After succumbing to your own curiosity, you had looked through the notebook to see what other drawings there were. You knew this was an invasion of privacy but you couldn’t help yourself. Surely enough, they were all of you.

“They were beautiful. Drawn in such detail that I couldn’t even believe it when I first saw them… And I look genuinely gorgeous in them,” you paused when Sunwoo scoffed at your words. “I’m not saying that to be vain,” you defended. “Trust me, I look much better in the sketches than in real life. Whoever drew them just… sees me differently than I see myself. I look beautiful in the pictures.”

“Your Professor’s right, it does sound like you’ve got yourself an admirer,” Eric teased you, pleased that somebody other than your close friends was starting to see how great you were. He wasn’t your best friend like Juyeon or Sunwoo, but he knew you well enough. “Did you get a name or anything?” he asked excitedly.

“Nothing,” you sulked. “I can take an educated guess that this person is probably in my Psych class since it’s the only class I have in that room, but who knows? It could be anyone that’s seen me before.”

“Maybe it’s one of your fans from the drama department,” Sunwoo poked fun at your cast members, not liking how they were treating you in rehearsals.

“Very funny,” you rolled your eyes, finally picking at your rice and starting to eat. “I just want to know who’s drawing me in such an amazing way. It’s so detailed that I assume it might be someone will a lot of skill, maybe an art major? But a lot of people draw as a hobby who aren’t art majors as well. Maybe-”

Eric interrupted you. “You’re thinking too much,” he said, trying to clam you down. “Just… slow down a little. Maybe they’ll come looking for it next time you have Psych? There’s no name or information so you can’t do anything to find them, anyways,” he rationalised, something that was usually your role in your friendships.

Your eyes lit up. “Moon scribbles,” you exclaimed.

Sunwoo gave you an unimpressed look. “Bless you.”

You ignored his cheek, taking out your phone and going onto Instagram. “The artist signed all of their drawings with a signature that says Moon scribbles,” you explained.

“You know it’s rude to go onto your phone during mealtimes,” Sunwoo replied.

You laughed. “I’ll be sure to remember that for the next time you do the same, Kim Sunwoo.”

After typing moonscribbles into the search bar, you saw an art page by the same name pop up. You couldn’t tell who it belonged to, as the bio vaguely gave information about the artist going to your University, studying art and being a pisces. Since the account was private, you decided to risk it and request to follow them, no matter how strange that might be if they weren’t the person you were looking for.

“I should have invited Juyeon out for lunch instead,” Sunwoo decided, picking at your rice dish in between bites of his noodles.

“Juyeon would rather hang out with Eric than you anyway,” you teased your friend back, knowing that Juyeon and Eric had a deeper friendship despite Sunwoo and Eric being the same age. Eric grinned, amused that the was the topic of discussion and not chiming in to deny anything. “And excuse me, I paid for lunch, you rascal! Now stop complaining, I’m done anyway.”

“Alright, fine. Did anything come up?” Sunwoo wondered, slapping your wrist when you tried to take some of his noodles. You rolled your eyes. Typical Sunwoo: always taking your food but never willing to share his with you.

“I don’t know yet,” you admitted. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

A few days passed without any response from moonscribbles on Instagram. You checked a few times a day to see if they ever accepted your request to follow them, but nothing ever came back. They didn’t deny your request, nor did they let you follow them either. It was frustrating, but it fell to the back of your mind after a week due to your schedule.

You had started doing full rehearsals with your cast members on stage for the play. At first, you thought that the setting might help you remember your lines and act without feeling awkward, but you were wrong. Most of your cast mates thought you got one of the lead roles for an alternate reason; perhaps you were related to someone on the University’s board and the director put you in because they wanted to keep their job. None of that was true, of course, but it didn’t help you make any friends.

The only friend you made was Younghoon, who played the lead opposite you, and with whom you frequently got together to go over lines and practice. He was one of those actors who was a completely different person from his role; he could keep be totally in character while doing his lines and the second the scene was over, he was back to his smiley self.

It didn’t help your confidence that he was an absolute pro. It only made you seem less competent in comparison, and you scolded yourself for even thinking that. Of course you knew it wasn’t Younghoon’s fault that he was simply much better at acting than you, but it definitely hurt your pride even more.

After another disastrous rehearsal, your cast mates had left to go backstage so you could have a word with the director. Younghoon sent you an encouraging smile and a pat on the shoulder before he followed your cast mates backstage, going over his lines in a faint whisper.

“Y/n,” your director began gently. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but what’s up with you?” You said nothing, prompting her to keep talking. “Your audition was really great. I knew I wanted you to play a lead role the second you were done auditioning. But you’ve been doing pretty poorly in rehearsals.”

“I know,” you admitted. “I’m really sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Your director sighed. “Look Y/n, I still want you to play your role. I like your chemistry with Younghoon and I think you guys could be really great leads. But if things don’t improve, I’m going to have to replace you with your understudy for the sake of this production.”

Even though you knew it was the obvious thing to do, it still hurt to hear. “I understand,” you whispered, nodding as you glanced at the floor.

“I really hope you can figure this out,” your director said, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “Let me know if I can help in any way, okay?” You nodded, and your director excused herself, leaving you standing at the edge of the stage by yourself.

You groaned once you were alone, taking a seat at the edge of the stage and letting your legs dangle over the edge. Welcoming the silence in the theatre as most of the cast had left for the day, you allowed yourself to lay back and close your eyes.

Why couldn’t you get this right?

Maybe I should just quit the play, you thought to yourself. It’s probably for the best.

When you heard the gentle patter of footsteps leading onto the stage, you spoke without opening your eyes. “Let me guess, you came to tell me how terrible I am too?” you uttered, not even caring who it was anymore.

The footsteps paused. “Um, actually, I’m just here to paint the sets…” a soft male voice spoke, causing you to open your eyes and sit up.

A familiar face stood a few metres away from you, paintbrushes and paints in hand. He had black hair that slightly covered his eyes, cat-like eyes and small lips that were pursed at the awkward interaction the two of you had just had.

“Sorry,” you apologised, getting to your feet. “It’s been a rough day,” you paused. “You’re Kevin, right?”

He looked surprised that you knew who he was. “Oh. Yes, actually.”

“I’m close with Juyeon,” you explained, realising how strange it might seem that you knew his name and recognised him. “I suppose I should probably have led with that.”

Kevin smiled. “No worries. I know you as well, you’re Y/n. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” you replied, bending down to collect your script and other belongings, pushing them into your tote bag as quickly as possible. “I’ll get out of your hair, then,” you smiled at him, implying it as your farewell.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re terrible,” Kevin confessed, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and starting to mix paints. You glanced at him. “Are you in your head a little? Maybe. But you’re far from terrible,” he assured you, his brown eyes brimming with kindness.

“That’s very nice of you to say,” you replied. “Thanks. Although, you seem more like an artist than an actor,” you added, teasing him just a little. You couldn’t help yourself, he was pretty cute.

Kevin laughed. “Fair enough,” he allowed. “If you want me to brag about being the lead in Aladdin in middle school, then I will.”

You placed your tote bag on your shoulder, holding your hands up in surrender. “I take it back,” you said immediately. “You have more experience than I do on stage.” The two of you shared grins.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Kevin assured you. “If I can do it then you certainly can.”

He seemed really sincere, and you appreciated it. “Thanks, Kevin,” you said, feeling much lighter and in a far better mood than before Kevin had come on stage. “I’ll see you around,” you bid your farewells before exiting the stage.

You’d have to ask Juyeon more about his friend Kevin.

The next time you and Kevin bumped into each other was after one of your rehearsals a few weeks later.

You had improved in your rehearsal times, with a lot of help from Younghoon – who practiced with you in between classes – and Sunwoo – who you ran lines with anytime the two of you were together. When you were done rehearsing, your director had expressed how happy she was that you were starting to warm up to the stage and really get into the character the way she was hoping you would. Younghoon earned himself two week’s worth of free coffee from you, and your cast finally stopped glaring at you whenever you came to rehearsals.

“Oh, hey,” you greeted Kevin, who started coming onstage to work on the sets with other people who were involved in the production process. “Good to see you again,” you told him.

“You too,” Kevin beamed, his hair falling over his eyes just slightly. You had the urge to brush it out of the way so you could see him better, but you resisted the urge and scolded yourself for being so forward. “You guys are looking pretty good out there,” he complimented, waving at Younghoon as he left the theatre. His older friend gave him a knowing look, making big eyes at him and puckering his lips to tease Kevin about his crush on you.

“Thank you,” you smiled back at him, entirely clueless to Kevin cursing Younghoon with his eyes right in front of you. “The sets are really coming along too,” you commend him, gesturing around you. “It’s certainly adding some more colour to our rehearsals.”

“Glad to hear it,” Kevin replied. “Set painting isn’t exactly my vocation or anything, but it’s a fun way to help out with my skillset.”

“Skillset?” you echoed, tilting his head in curiosity.

“Ah,” Kevin cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um, I’m a fine arts major. So set painting is a little less refined than what I usually do. Not that I’m bragging,” he added quickly.

“Not at all,” you agreed, your eyes widening in realisation. “Fine arts, that’s a really cool major. You must be pretty talented to get into fine arts here, it’s such a competitive major,” your eyes widened in sudden realisation. “I’d love to see something of yours that doesn’t involve painting sets,” you motioned to the stage around you.

Kevin almost blushed. “Really?” he asked, his heart beat hammering in his chest at the idea of you seeing his art.

“Yeah,” you nodded your head eagerly. Partly because you were really curious about his art, but mostly because Kevin was pretty damn cute. “For sure! I mean, if you come to opening night of the play, I’d love to go see your art some time.”

“How’s this Saturday?” Kevin asked, his words almost slurring together at the speed he was talking. “The art department’s putting on an exhibition and a few of my drawings are going to be in it.”

“That sounds great,” you agreed. “Do you think I could bring some friends?”

Kevin nodded, his deep brown eyes brightening at the idea. “For sure! I already invited Juyeon but you can bring Sunwoo along as well.”

“Then I’ll be there,” you promised.

“Oh my god, are you touching the art?” you heard Kevin exclaim semi-loudly. You froze from your place, pointing at the water fountain from which you were filling up a cup of water to drink.

“What?” you asked dumbly, your eyes widening as Kevin smirked, hiding his laughter.

It was the Saturday of Kevin’s exhibition and you were doing your best to blend in with all the artistically-minded people in the room; admiring the paintings, motioning at the sculptures and pondering over the meanings behind the light exhibitions.

“I thought this was just a regular water fountain,” you tried to defend yourself.

“It is, I’m just messing with you,” Kevin shrugged, causing you to exhale in relief and slap Kevin’s arm.

“That was awful of you,” you scolded, unable to hide the large grin making its way onto your face. “You suck.”

“So I’ve heard,” Kevin retorted easily. “Hi. Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” you replied. “So, when am I going to see your pieces?” you asked, motioning around the room. It was filled to the brim and people were bustling around the room to get a good look at every piece.

“Right now if you’re up for it,” Kevin suggested, waving as Juyeon and Sunwoo made their way over to the pair of you. You had excused yourself to get some water when Kevin spotted you and came over. “Hey guys. Sunwoo, good to see you again.”

“You too,” Sunwoo replied courteously, which was unlike him. Sunwoo knew Kevin vaguely through Juyeon, who was the same age as Kevin and had a lot of classes with him, and Eric, who Kevin often hung out with because they both spoke English. “Any of these yours?”

“A few,” Kevin said modestly.

Sunwoo nodded, looking around. “Are they good or are they more… conceptual?” he asked, his own way of asking whether or not Kevin’s art was a piece of crap or not.

You rolled your eyes. “Your eloquence astounds me, Sunwoo,” you said sarcastically.

“Well I might as well get to the point,” Sunwoo chided, glancing back at Kevin. “So?”

Kevin, who was observing you and Sunwoo with the same amused smile that Juyeon was, motioned the three of you over as he led you in the direction of his drawings. “I’m not so sure if they’re good, or conceptual, but I suppose you could judge that for yourself,” he told Sunwoo, coming to a halt in front of a display of drawings.

The drawings were lively and bright; colours in the form of pastels and charcoal bringing richness and warmth to the image. Most of his drawings depicted a faceless person. There were multiple drawings where the person was being portrayed from the back, and ones that were head-on didn’t have any facial features.

“These are amazing,” you breathed out, enchanted by the creativity of the drawings, as well as the immense detail that went into them.

“I like them,” Sunwoo decided, causing Juyeon to nod in agreement.

“They’re really good,” Juyeon complimented his friend, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m really glad you decided to put something on display this year.” Juyeon knew all about the artistic slump Kevin was in last year, so he didn’t have any art on display.

Kevin thanked Juyeon quietly, still studying your expression. “Can I ask why they’re faceless?” you asked, tilting your head as you studied the drawings further.

“Ah, that,” Kevin began, an uncharacteristic shyness appearing in his tone. “Well, I’ve been inspired by somebody for a few months now,” he explained. “I suppose I made my drawings faceless because I don’t want people to know who my muse is. I’m not ready to face how I feel when I draw them yet, and I think it’s too personal to put in an exhibition.”

You nodded your head, understanding where he was coming from. “That’s really great. I hope that one day I’ll get to see their face,” you said kindly, genuinely enjoying his art. Your eyes widened as you realised something. “Hey, do you know the other students in your major well?” you asked him.

Kevin raised an eyebrow at your sudden change of topic. “Yeah, I think so. We’re a small major and I have all of my 300-level classes with all the same people. Why do you ask?”

“Would you be able to recognise one of your peer’s work?” you inquired, the sketchbook in your dorm room burning a hole in your mind. He might be able to solve my curiosity.

“Maybe,” Kevin drawled slowly. “Why?” he found your sudden change of pace surprising. “What’s up?”

“Well, I found someone’s sketchbook in one of my classes and I was wondering who it belonged to,” you began, hesitating before bringing up the sketchbook you found in your Psychology class. “But they didn’t put their name on it so I can’t return it to the owner. It was really detailed and skilled work, so I thought they might be a fine arts major.”

Kevin’s heart plummeted into his stomach.

His worst nightmare had come true: you had found his sketchbook. His sketchbook that was filled with his heart-felt drawings of you. And here you were, asking him if he knew who it belonged to. Somehow, it was equal parts thrilling and mortifying.

Sunwoo, having heard about your secret admirer decided to check out a different part of the exhibition, but Juyeon – who was hearing this for the first time – stayed out of curiosity. “You found someone’s sketchbook?” he repeated. “What was in it?”

You laughed awkwardly. “Oh. Well, here’s the thing… There’s some drawings of me in it,” you admitted, feeling shy about divulging everything about the sketchbook to Kevin. “I just… I guess I want to meet the person that made me feel so vibrant and beautiful when looking at the drawings.”

“You have an admirer,” Juyeon realised, beaming at you; eyes squinting into little crescents. “That’s adorable. Does it say anything inside?”

“Yeah it does, actually,” you told him, giving him a smile before meeting Kevin’s eyes again. “All of the drawings are signed with the handle Moon scribbles,” you recalled. “No name or phone number, though.”

Juyeon’s brows furrowed together. “Kev, isn’t Moon scribbles-“

“A really interesting name?” Kevin cut Juyeon off, sending him the clear message that he wasn’t ready to tell you about the fact that you were his muse and he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Getting the message, Juyeon eagerly agreed, thanking Kevin for finishing his train of thought. “Um, I don’t think I’ve heard of it before. But if you show me the drawings, maybe I could recognise the style?” Kevin suggested, coming up with a solution for you to find the owner of the sketchbook.

“That would be really great, actually,” you acknowledged. “I could bring it by the next time we hang out,” you suggested, excited to figure out who you should thank for their hard work.

“Next time?” Kevin echoed, excitement filling his stomach. “Are you really so eager to solve your mystery?” he teased you.

“Well, you’re not such a bad addition,” you added with a wink.

Kevin’s heart soared.

You met up with Kevin in the library a few days later to show him your sketchbook. It was good timing because you definitely needed to study for your Psychology class after zoning out in your last few lectures, so the library was the perfect setting to meet.

“Hey,” you greeted Kevin, taking the seat next to him on one of the sofas in the more secluded area of the library.

“Hi,” Kevin mumbled in return, his voice sounding quieter and more hoarse than usual. At first, you thought it might be the fact that he had to whisper that made him sound more quiet. Then, you spotted the dark circles under his eyes and the fact that he was wearing glasses, which he didn’t normally do.

“You okay?” you asked him, seeing him stretch out and yawn in his seat.

“Me?” Kevin murmured, meeting your gaze with tired, glazed-over eyes. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Not to sound like an asshole who’s telling you that you look terrible, which I’m not, but you look really tired,” you had to tell Kevin. “Are you sure you’re up for this? You look like you could use some sleep.”

“Sleep,” Kevin said the word like it’s funny. “Sleep and I… we aren’t friends.”

You smiled sympathetically at your new friend. “Up all night studying?” you wondered.

“Insomnia,” Kevin corrected you.

“Ah,” you nodded in understanding. “So sleep is… a distant acquaintance?” you played off his previous joke.

“Something like that,” he allowed, moving his glasses up onto his forehead to rub his eyes. “I’m good, though. I look like this most days, don’t worry about it.”

“If you say so,” you trail off, your concern still not being calmed by Kevin’s explanation. “We can do this anther time if it helps, though. I wouldn’t want you to be unwell because of me.”

Kevin grinned, adjusting the beanie on his head. “But I couldn’t possibly be unwell if I’m around you,” he said, pointing his finger in the air as if he had made an excellent realisation. “Now, show me the sketchbook.”

You pulled the sketchbook out of your tote bag and handed it over to him.

Seeing it right in front of him, Kevin could confirm that it was definitely his sketch book that you had found. Although the chances of another person on campus being entirely smitten by you to the point where you became their artistic muse was slim, it wasn’t zero.

“Can I,” he motioned to the sketchbook, asking for permission to open it. It was incredibly ironic, but Kevin was too embarrassed to come clean about the sketchbook being his.

“Go ahead,” you nodded, telling him to flip through the pages.

Kevin did so, pretending he was seeing all the drawings for the first time. He paused on every page, looking over the details in the sketches and the way they realistically depicted your features. Even though he was the one who drew them, Kevin could admit that the drawings were really great. They were great because he appreciated the subject and was inspired by you. That much was clear to anybody.

“Wow,” Kevin said when he was done looking at all the drawings, holding the sketchbook on his lap. “That’s… you,” he observed, as if he didn’t already know.

“So I’m not crazy?” you asked immediately, biting your lip. “That’s me?” you glanced down at the open page in front of Kevin, seeing the resemblance between you and the person in the drawing.

“Oh it’s definitely you,” Kevin confirmed. “Unless you have an identical twin somewhere out there, there’s no doubt in my mind that it’s you.”

You let out a relieved sigh, leaning back onto the sofa. “Okay, good. I thought I was being really shallow and presumptuous at first but it’s good that you agree,” you told him, feeling a weight being lifted off your chest. “So, does it look familiar?”

“I’m not sure,” Kevin replied vaguely, wondering how he was going to get himself out of this one. “Do you think I could keep this? Maybe look over it a few more times when I’m not about to pass out,” he added.

“Sure,” you allowed. You trusted Kevin enough that he wouldn’t lose the sketchbook, since all of your mutual friends spoke very highly of him. Besides, you were becoming more impressed by him every time the two of you met. “I hope something comes up. I looked moonscribbles up on Instagram but their account is private and they haven’t responded to my follow request yet.”

Kevin had completely forgotten about his private art Instagram account. Before he was inspired by you to draw, he was in a serious slump and had been spiralling downwards. In this time, he made his Instagram account private in an effort to not think about it too much. Kevin scolded himself for not realising that you would look him up on social media to find him.

“That’s too bad,” he said sympathetically. “Maybe they’ll respond soon?”

“I hope so,” you mumbled, sighing. “I just… I want to meet them.”

“Just out of curiosity, why do you want to meet them so badly?” Kevin wondered. “Because they drew pretty pictures of you?”

“Kind of?” you replied unsurely. “That’s definitely part of it. I guess I wanted to meet somebody who thought I was vibrant and colourful and beautiful,” you shrugged, glancing down at your lap. “Because I don’t think that about myself at all. It’s why I suck at acting, and it’s why my cast mates hate me. I just thought that if somebody out there really thought I was special, maybe I would have a reason to believe it, too.”

Kevin felt butterflies rising in his stomach again, but not in a fluttery, nervous way. He was anxious about what was going to happen. “I’ll do my best to help out,” he said gently. “And Y/n?” you looked back up at Kevin. “I think you’re special,” he admitted. “A lot of people do. Juyeon, Sunwoo, Eric, Younghoon… You don’t need Moon scribbles to be special, you’re already special to us.”

A grateful, shy smile spread across your lips at his words. “Thanks, Kev. For your help, and for saying that. I really appreciate it,” you acknowledged afterwards, realising that Kevin was going out of his way to figure out your mystery while he was dead tired.

Noticing the shift in atmosphere, you cleared your throat and changed the subject, heart hammering. “I’m going to stay here and study for my Psychology class, so you don’t have to stay if you’d rather get some sleep.”

“Psychology?” Kevin echoed. “Are you taking it with Professor Shin?”

“Yes,” you groaned. “She talks so fast that my hand feels like it’s going to fall off after her lectures,” you complained.

Kevin laughed. “I can relate,” he commented. “I didn’t think you were in my class. I’m in section fifteen, what about you?”

“Section twenty-two,” you said, shrugging. “Although I’m glad to hear that it’s not just my class that she’s driving crazy.”

“Ditto,” Kevin agreed. “I actually have to get some studying done for that class too. You mind if I stay?”

“Not at all,” you promised. “It always helps to study with a friend,” you added, pulling out your notes and laptop from your tote bag.

After setting up all of your work, you quickly got to studying, cross-referencing terms from your notes to the textbook to make sure you didn’t write down anything wrong in your hurry. Kevin was silent and still beside you, which you took no notice of because you were so focused. In your distraction, he soon drifted off to sleep with his pencil still in hand, head lulling back to rest on the sofa as his eyes shut by their own accord.

Forty minutes later, you had finished both of the units on Social Psychology and furrowed your brows at an unfamiliar name. “Hey Kev, did you guys talk about-“ you paused after turning to face your new friend, seeing that he was peacefully sleeping, his head now leaning to the side to face you.

The sight of him sleeping peacefully warmed your heart, especially after he had talked about his insomnia earlier. Smiling, you pulled your headphones out of your tote bag so you could listen to the recorded lectures in favour of waking up Kevin to ask him for help. As carefully as you could, you slid the pencil out of his palm and placed it to the side so he could get some rest.

You spent the next half an hour studying in silence, until you noticed Eric, Sunwoo and Jacob walking up to you and Kevin. “Hey,” Sunwoo greeted you, earning a wave from you.

“Hi guys,” you whispered back. “What’s up?”

“Are you and Kevin dating?” Eric interrupted whatever Sunwoo was about to say, an excited glint in his eyes. “You guys are in the make-out section of the library!”

You made a face. “That’s why nobody’s here?” you realised, looking around and frowning. “No, Eric. We’re just studying together.”

Jacob grinned. “Looks like Kevin’s making really great progress on that front,” he teased. “I’m Jacob, by the way,” he added, since the two of you hadn’t properly been introduced yet.

“I’m Y/n,” you replied. “Nice to finally meet you! These rascals have told me all about you,” you motioned to Sunwoo and Eric, who beamed proudly.

“I’ve heard a lot about you as well,” Jacob replied. “And I’ve come to collect Kevin. If he doesn’t wake up soon, he’s going to miss his Ceramics class,” he explained.

“Aw,” you pouted, glancing over at Kevin. “He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping, though. And he said he was struggling to sleep.”

“Yeah,” Jacob agreed. “I hate waking him. Believe me, I’m his roommate so I see it all first-hand. But attendance is graded in this class, so…” he trailed off with a small shrug before leaning over and waking Kevin up.

Kevin awoke, eyes blinking drowsily as he took in the image of four people staring at him. “What did I do?” he asked, wondering what prompted all the attention.

You grinned, finding the sight rather cute. “Your wake-up service is here to tell you it’s ceramics time,” you explained.

“I fell asleep,” Kevin realised. “I’m sorry,” he apologised, feeling bad that you were studying in silence when you were supposed to be helping each other out.

“Don’t be, I’m glad you got some shut-eye,” you assured him. “Go get ready for your class.”

Kevin gathered all of his things into his bag and waved his goodbyes, trudging out of the library with Jacob. “So,” Jacob began, a wide grin gracing his features. “That’s Y/n?” he teased.

“Yes, that’s Y/n,” Kevin replied quietly.

“The famous Y/n?”

“Oh my god please tell me you didn’t say anything to Y/n.”

“What should I have said? Oh so you’re the Y/n that Kevin has been in love with all semester! The famous muse! Nice to meet you, I’m the guy that has to listen to him gush about you.”

“Don’t make me hide your guitar.”

moonscribbles accepted your follow request!

You sat up from where you were lying down on your bed, startled at the notification you had just received. Racing to open your Instagram app, you looked at moonscribbles’s account. None of the drawings on their account were of you, so you couldn’t decide if they were the right person. But they simply had to be. They went to your school, they studied art…

Braving it, you decided to send them a private message.

Hi! I think I found your sketchbook in Professor Shin’s lecture hall. How do you want me to return it to you?

You waited for a response, which came within a minute.

You can keep it.

You were pouting over your cereal in the dining hall when Juyeon joined you, his plate stacked high with all kinds of delicious breakfast foods. “Hey pouty,” he teased you, giving your shoulder a gentle nudge when he took the seat next to yours. His smile never failed to cheer you up, which is why your frown caused concern to grow in your best friend. “Why the long face?”

“I’m never going to meet moonscribbles,” you told him, your eyes uncharacteristically sad and shiny when they met Juyeon’s.

He startled at how upset you were. “What? Why would you say that?”

“They accepted my follow request on Instagram,” you explained. “And they told me I could keep the sketchbook. Then they went offline,” you recalled. “I guess I was wrong about them.”

“I’m sorry. Whoever they are, they clearly have no idea what they’re missing.” Juyeon frowned, sympathetic of your situation and confused about what Kevin thought he was doing.

“What who’s missing?” Jacob and Eric took the seats opposite you and Juyeon, their plates equally filled with breakfast foods.

“Moon scribbles,” you said vaguely, not wanting to get into it with anyone other than Juyeon and Sunwoo. While you were starting to get to know Jacob better, you didn’t feel comfortable enough around them to discuss the matter with them. And of course you loved Eric, and he knew your situation, but you hadn’t anticipated feeling so upset about Moon scribbles’s response.

“Kevin?” Jacob asked innocently, picking up his fork and elbowing Eric so he wouldn’t steal his food. “What did he do?”

Your eyes snapped over to Jacob. “What did you just say?” you asked. Juyeon’s eyes widened, mouth slightly open as Jacob revealed Kevin’s secret to you without even realising it.

“I was asking what Kevin did,” Jacob repeated. “You said Moon scribbles, didn’t you? Kevin’s artist handle?”

“That’s clever,” Eric chimed in, innocently eating his food. “Since his last name is Moon, and all.” Then his eyes widened and he realised the situation, his gaze snapping over at you to see how you were handling the reveal.

In that moment, you’d never felt like more of an idiot.

“Kevin is Moon scribbles,” you echoed, dropping your fork onto your tray.

“Oh,” Jacob paused, reading the room as he saw the way Juyeon was staring at him. “Did you… not know that?”

“No,” you told him, having lost your already minimal appetite. “He didn’t say a thing.”

“Oh boy,” Jacob said awkwardly. “I feel like I definitely just messed up.”

“No, no,” you denied, waving your hand in Jacob’s direction. “Not at all. I’m just glad that I know who it is,” you tried to convince him, as well as yourself. “Did you know?” you asked Juyeon. “That day at the exhibition… You were trying to tell me that you knew it was Kevin, weren’t you?”

“Yes, I knew,” Juyeon replied slowly, confirming your suspicions.

For a moment, a dull pain ached in your chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, hurt that your best friend had lied to you.

“Because I figured Kevin wanted to tell you in his own time,” he explained. “I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you, I just thought he’d do the right thing and explain it to you himself. It felt like it wasn’t my news to tell.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “I understand,” you got to your feet, grabbing your tray after putting your bag on your shoulder.

Juyeon stood up with you. “Are you upset with me?” he asked. “Because I understand if you are.”

You did your best to smile, not caring if it looked real or not. “I’m not upset with you,” you assured him. “I’m upset, but not at you. I have to get to the last dress rehearsal before opening night, so,” you glanced over at Jacob and Eric, who both looked mortified. “Enjoy your breakfast,” you told them before putting your tray away and walking to the theatre as quickly as you could.

“Hey!” your director greeted you when you came in, beaming. “You’re like a half hour early,” she observed.

“Oh, I’ve just come to go over lines and talk to some friends,” you lied, smiling at her before stepping backstage. The set design volunteers were adding last-minute touched to their sets, and you knew that was where you’d find Kevin.

“Hey,” he greeted you when you arrived in front of him. “What’s up?”

“Moon scribbles doesn’t want their sketchbook back,” you told him, as if you didn’t know that he was Moon scribbles. “So you don’t have to keep looking for them,” you added.

“Oh, okay,” Kevin nodded as if he didn’t already know this. “Did you want the sketchbook back?”

“You can keep it,” you declined, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s rightfully yours anyway.”

Kevin paused his painting. “It is?” he asked, voice squeaking just slightly in surprise.

“Yeah, Moon scribbles,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “Besides, it’s the only way you’ll get to see me ever again, anyway,” you added, frowning as you turned around to go. “Bye, Kevin.”

“Wait,” Kevin put his fine paintbrush down to stop you from leaving.

“What?” you asked him, facing him with a raised eyebrow. “You know what, I actually really want to hear this. What exactly is it that you’re going to say to save this situation?” you wondered.

Kevin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean for it to go on this long,” he began.

“That’s a joke,” you accused. “You knew how much this meant to me! Just admit that you were never going to tell me that you’re Moon scribbles.”

“How could I tell you?” Kevin exclaimed, startling you with his sudden increase in volume. “How could I just come forward and tell you that it was me? What would you have thought of me?”

“I’d have thought more of you than I do now,” you retorted. “Look, I get it now. I read the situation all wrong. You don’t think I’m special or vibrant or any of those things. You just drew me because I was there, I suppose,” you decided, feeling your heart dropping in your chest at your own words.

“That is not true,” Kevin denied, shaking his head. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“I suppose you might have though I was pretty if you drew me,” you allowed. “But clearly, I was putting too much onto this whole Moon scribbles thing, and it didn’t mean anything to you at all. Which is fine, it doesn’t have to mean anything. It just sucks that you couldn’t just tell me that to my face,” you confessed wholeheartedly. “But it’s fine. You can just go back to drawing your faceless muse now, I’m over it,” you lied.

“That’s not why I didn’t want to tell you that I’m Moon scribbles,” Kevin insisted. “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to think I drew you just because you’re beautiful.”

“That worked out well,” you muttered.

Kevin sighed. “I don’t care about your looks, as ironic as that sounds. When I first saw you… You exuded an aura. I know that sounds cheesy and not everyone believes in vibes or energy, or whatever, but it’s true. You inspired me to draw and be creative,” he explained. “But I liked you when I met you. When I saw you in class and when I saw you around Sunwoo and Juyeon. You don’t get it. You are my faceless muse. You have been ever since our Cultural Anthropology class last semester.”

That stopped your train of thought. “You were in that class?” you repeated, confused.

“Yes I was. The first time I saw you… I swear, I haven’t drawn anything other than you since that day,” Kevin’s tone was uncharacteristically serious, and you felt inclined to believe him. “No matter how hard I tried. Flowers turned into your eyes, landscapes became your hair; I was a man possessed. I still am.”

“Then why not tell me all of this?” you wondered, frustrated with the situation.

“I thought that if you found out I was Moon scribbles, you’d just think I was shallow,” he paused. “Or worse.”

You rose an eyebrow. “Worse?”

Now it was Kevin’s turn to sound frustrated. “I mean, I’m not so great and special. I figured you’d be disappointed that it’s me.”

Your heart clenched for him. “How could I be disappointed that it’s you?” you asked him. “You’re great. It’s me who’s awful.”

“You aren’t awful,” he denied. “You’re so much greater than you can see. Don’t you get it? You inspired me to create after the most awful year I’ve ever had artistically. I drew you instead of studying, I drew you instead of leaving my dorm, hell, I drew you instead of sleeping. You didn’t misunderstand anything. I do think that you’re special, and vibrant.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Okay,” you spoke quietly, your mind spinning in circles. “I believe you.”

Kevin nodded. “Good.”

You nodded back at him, unsure of how to continue. “So… You have a sketchbook full of drawings of me,” you decided to tease him, just to bring some of the usual lightheartedness you felt around Kevin back.

Kevin visibly reddened at your words. “I mean… I’d be lying if I said it was just one,” he confessed.

You brightened at his words. “You have multiple sketchbooks full of drawings of me?” you exclaimed.

“I made drawings of you for the art exhibition,” he reminded you. “I haven’t been able to draw anything else for seven months. And I draw a lot, so the sketchbooks just started piling up. Plus my iPad,” catching the delighted glint in your eyes, Kevin cut himself off. “You know what, we don’t have to talk about my iPad.”

You smiled, flattered that Kevin had been so inspired by you. “Well, thank you. For filling sketchbooks and iPads and whatever other mediums with drawings of me. You made me feel seen for the first time in a really long time, and I appreciate it,” you acknowledged his efforts. “Is this why everyone acts so weird when we’re together?” you put the pieces together.

“What are you talking about?” Kevin asked, dreading your answer.

“Eric practically skips over to me whenever he sees me now, asking about you and all kinds of other things. Jacob is a lot more subtle, but he looks at me like a proud dad sometimes,” you explained.

Kevin rested his palm against his forehead. “Why are they so obvious?”

“The real question is: Why was Juyeon the least obvious,” you retorted.

“I think he just wanted us both to figure things out in our own time,” Kevin mused, earning a hum and a nod in agreement from you.

“Hey Y/n,” Younghoon poked his head around the corner. “We’re getting ready for rehearsals. Are you going to be done in time to change?” he asked, eyes flitting between you and Kevin.

“Yeah, I’m good to start getting ready. Thanks Younghoon,” you agreed, grateful that your friend wasn’t making a big deal out of what he might have overheard. Younghoon nodded, disappearing with a wink to get himself ready. “Well, that’s my cue,” you trailed off, motioning to the backstage area where you had to get changed for your last dress rehearsal.

Kevin nodded, slightly upset that your conversation didn’t come to a closure yet. “Okay,” he replied. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

You agreed with him, grabbing your bag from where you dropped it on the floor and making your way to the changing rooms. Before you opened the door, you turned back to face Kevin, who had been watching you leave. “I came to your exhibition, so you have to come to opening night,” you reminded him of the agreement the two of you made.

“I’ll be there,” Kevin assured you, taking it as a sign that the two of you could still – at the very least – be friends.

“Good,” you smiled. “And after opening night, we have a few days off so I would definitely be available, say, Wednesday?” you informed him, hoping he’d get the idea.

Kevin brightened up, his posture straightening suddenly. “Oh?” he stammered. “Would you maybe want to get dinner on Wednesday?” he offered. “Like, a date?”

You grinned, your eye dropping into a wink. “What an excellent idea,” you told him. “By the way, don’t bother asking the boys about what I like, they’re completely clueless. My favourite flowers are peonies.”

“Peonies,” Kevin repeated, accompanied by a nod. “Any preferred colour?” he asked, giddy with excitement at the outcome your confrontation had.

You shrugged. “Surprise me.”

note: okay i know you guys waited forever for this so thank you so much for your patience!! i hope you guys enjoyed it xx

#the boyz #the boyz imagines #kevin #kevin imagines #kevin x reader #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenarios #the boyz drabbles #the boyz fanfic #deobiwritersnet #tbznetwork #kevin moon #2k celebration

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melodyalanaroster · 3 years

Photo

Dear @chinomiko,

When I first started playing My Candy Love on New Year’s Day in 2013, I was simply a 17 year old girl who was starting the second half of my Senior Year in High School. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, and I certainly had no idea where I’d end up. At the time, I was just looking for a new anime style site to call my internet home after the destruction of TinierMe. In my search, I stumbled upon your site. I had never played a dating simulator before, and I fell for your art style, so I decided to give the site a shot. It didn’t take me long to bond with Nathaniel... He was a kind young man, who loved to read, and had a tortured home life... Even though the torture at home was different between him and me, I still felt like I had found a character I could recognize... Hell, I did the same thing with Ken... My bond with Nathaniel was just so much deeper...

Then I graduated High School... I had no college prospects, and no idea what I even wanted to go to college for (still entirely don’t know).... My issues at home were getting worse, my love life was far from perfect, and living in Texas can be kind of ruthless on those who aren’t following the status quo... Even with going to the United Kingdom for 5 weeks, things still didn’t get better... And of course, the death of my childhood cat, Luna, in 2014 made things worse... So, I started focusing my free time on the game.... Working like crazy to get up to date with the episodes and bonus episodes, editing pics, and even writing fanfics... It became my escape from real life.

That did not change when I met the love of my real life in 2015. Despite entering into a relationship that is still going strong, I needed an escape from the hell my abuser was putting my family and me through, from the shitty job that I had gotten (and still have as of this letter), and from the hell that a really rare disease that had kicked on in my mother’s immune system had begun to put her and my family through. No amount of talking to people in my inner circle in real life helped... And there were times where it felt like the only emotions I knew were anger, sadness, and fear... It was during this time that my main MCL OC, Melody Alana Roster, came to life as what she is today... A strong, smart, beautiful, powerful, woman who goes through some of the worst hell imaginable and ends up living a life of peace with the man she loves (Nathaniel).... When my abuser’s time in my family’s and my life was ending and she was going “all out” on me? I thought of what Alana and Nathaniel would be doing during the newest episode of the game. My job putting me through mental and physical hell (it’s a very demanding job)? I daydreamed about Nathaniel and Alana. My mother’s disease progressing and making my mother put my grandmother and me through hell? I would go in my room and write a section of my story or edit a pic when I could. Hell, My Candy Love became so prominent in my life as an escape that when my abuser’s daughter came back at me (this time with my boyfriend’s ex friend), one of the things she’d say to me was “All you do is sit in your room and write fanfiction.”... I needed something and My Candy Love and it’s fandom was something I enjoyed that kept me in my room (where I felt safe)... To this day, my boyfriend understands why I’ve put so much time and effort into it... Why I’ve spent so much money on it (AP, Gold, commissioned pics, and items)... It was a light in what felt like a sea of darkness in my life...

Now, I’m going to clarify something here... What is written in the last paragraph took place over the course of 5 years... Of course, when I get to the point of 2020, its easy to guess some of the reasons why I continued to focus on My Candy Love... However, I have an added reason.... Not only did the pandemic bitch slap Texas mid March, but about a week before that happened, on March 10th, my mother succumbed to the secondary infection brought on by her disease... And I had to grieve... Of course, when the pandemic hit about week later, I was told by society that I didn’t have time to grieve... As I am a grocery store worker... Which, I still tried to use My Candy Love as a means of escape... It felt like life was going “Yeah, you’re free from your mom’s disease, now here’s one that YOU could bring home to your grandparents and kill them with simply by going to work!”... Because, I’m sure even you know how poorly America has handled the pandemic... And Texas is one of the worst states when it comes to that...

I’m not saying this to make you feel sorry for me... Not in the slightest... I’ve leaned on my family, friends, and boyfriend for everything, so it’s not JUST My Candy Love that got me through all of this... I’m telling you this because My Candy Love and what I’ve done for it has helped me with it all immensely. I thought I had lost my passion for writing while I was still in school, even though my favorite teacher was encouraging me to continue... And here I am still writing my MCL fanfiction... Not only am I still writing my fanfic, I’m getting it turned into 1 copy of an actual book for my shelf when I’m done... When I took photography in High School and wasn’t good at photoshop, I thought it would never be a skill I’d use... And, yet, over the course of my time with MCL, my photo editing skills have improved DRASTICALLY... Sure, I can’t really edit real life photos... But I can make stuff for MCL avatars and such...

I mean, if someone had told me 8 years ago that I’d be so invested in this game that I’d have a body pillow of my favorite love interest, a folder of commissioned art, a blog with over 1,300 followers, an Instagram with nearly 300 followers, a custom plushie of my favorite love interest, a Discord Server with around 200 people in it... That I’d be the Vice President/Club Photographer of the US version of a fan club... That I’d make friends throughout the world in the fandom... That my editing skills would become as good as they are now... That I’d be working on the biggest writing project I’ve EVER worked on... And that I’d cry at the last episode the same way I cried during the Season 8 finale of Scrubs, the series finale of iCarly, Matt Smith’s regeneration in Doctor Who and the ending of Deathly Hallows Part 2... I would have told them that they’re crazy....

Yet... Here I am... I’m turning 26 years old in July... And all of that has happened... In real life, I’m still dealing with the pandemic, I’ve celebrated my 5 year anniversary with my boyfriend, and I’m even preparing to move in with him... Yet, online, I’m still VERY invested in your game. I’m still a long way from finishing my OC’s story... I still want to edit pics for Nathaniel and Alana... And I’m going to be contemplating playing the new game for a while... I’ll still play events... As long as Nathaniel is around, I’ll be there to greet him with a smile... But I don’t know about your new project...

All that being said.... There’s one MAJOR thing I’d like to say to you, Chino....

THANK YOU!

Thank you for everything! For all your hard work in this story... It’s far from perfect, but I still enjoyed the majority of it... For creating Nathaniel, the holder of my 2D heart.... Seriously, thank you for creating him... I have anime crushes, but I don’t love them as deeply as I love Nath.... Thank you for your art! Its amazing! You’re in my top 3 favorite digital artists... The others being Drachea Rannak and Marco Albiero... Thank you for all the work you continue to put into the game that a lot of us have, kind of, grown up with.... I wasn’t really a kid when I started playing, but I do consider myself to have “grown up” with it... Thank you for all of the other love interests... For Castiel, Kentin, Armin, Lysander, Priya, Rayan and Hyun... They’re not the ones I love most, but they’re all interesting characters... Thank you for Candy... While she and Alana greatly differ from each other, Candy was the heroine in a story that gave birth to Alana... Candy is far from perfect, but I’m glad her story ended well.... Thank you for creating the game that brought this fandom into existence... While the fandom can be VERY toxic at times, there are a lot of amazing people in it... They have become some of my dearest friends...

While the entire My Candy Love team at Beemoov deserves my gratitude... I feel like you are the most deserving of it... Because, without you, My Candy Love would not exist.

I look forward to seeing My Candy Love’s future... Either from the sidelines, or from the middle of it... I will see it’s future...

Thank you ChiNoMiko.

All my love and respect,

Melody Alana Roster

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1234-angelika · 3 years

Text

London Calling

an:Hey y'all! I'm back from hiatus and I have a new Spencer fic for y'all. This is the sixth installment of the Happily Ever After series for Spencer. As always, hope y'all enjoy!

words:1.1k

warnings:mentions of food

summary:"In London, everyone is different, and that means anyone can fit in." - Paddington Bear

masterpost|taglist|have an idea

You and Spencer had been celebrating all the milestones in your relationship, big or small.

For the pair of you, this was a big step in the relationship. You were going on your first vacation together. It was going to be a short trip, just a two-day trip to London. Which, according to Spencer, was enough time to see all the 'important sights.' He had taken the reins on planning this trip, so at this point, you were just along for the ride.

You got to the airport at noon, three hours before your flight, which you preferred. The plane took off at 3pm from Norfolk airport, which got you to the UK at 8:30 am. You had only one layover at O'Hare, which was just complete craziness. Because of his eidetic memory, Spencer had been in charge of the itinerary, the obvious—being that he was the one who planned the trip. So the first stop was the hotel to check-in, drop off your bags and freshen up before exploring the city.

Your first tourist spot was Hyde park for an hour. And then, an hour later, you watched the chaining of the guard at Buckingham Palace followed by a visit to St. James park. Afterwards, you and Spencer visited Westminster Abbey. You spent a lot of time there since Spencer had booked the hidden highlights tour. As you walked around, you were admiring the beautiful stained glass. Next, you crossed the street and saw the house of Parliament as well as Big Ben, which was not the photo opportunity you were hoping for but still amazing enough to cross off your list.

Lunch was at a swanky Indian restaurant, the Cinnamon Club. Then you were back to doing touristy things. First on the agenda was Trafalgar Square which was bustling with people, and then you moved on to the National Gallery. Which took a few hours but was completely worth it as you walked past masterpiece after masterpiece. Next was a romantic ride on the London Eye, the sun was setting, but it hadn't got cold yet. Before dinner, you visited the Piccadilly Circus, similar but not as grand as Times Square and Leicester Square. You stopped back at the hotel to change into something a little fancier before heading off to dinner. You went to Bob Bob Ricard and had a fantastic dinner with cocktails. And then you and Spencer had some cocktails at Mark's bar to end off the night.

The following day you had a bit of a sleep-in before getting a start on the day. Over a light breakfast, Spencer briefly told you the plan for the day. It was busy. Starting at 9am, together you visited the Tower of London, coffee in hand. Spencer told you all sorts of historical trivia before you moved on to the London Bridge. Of course, the bridge came with trivia of its own. You paid a quick visit to the Shard, which Spencer told you was the tallest building in London, before heading to the Borough Market for brunch.

Spencer's itinerary for your second day brought you to two museums. The first stop was the Tate Modern, London's modern art museum. It was amazing. The museum was full of contemporary artists such as; Andy Warhol, Pablo Picasso and, Mark Rothko. For each piece of art, Spencer was prepared with facts about the painting and the artist. After a few hours at the museum, it was time for the next stop. St. Pauls Cathedral.

You walked across Millennium bridge to get there. The architecture was beautiful, and the entry fee you had paid was completely worth it to see the inside. The second museum was the V&A museum, with a vast collection of the best art and design in the world. It was definitely not made for kids but so enjoyable for the two of you.

The last tourist attraction was Kensington Palace & Kensington Gardens; this was only a quick visit since it closed at 6pm. To mark the end of your trip, you had dinner at a well-known pub. Churchill Arms, known for its wide selection of ale and its surprisingly good Thai food. You and Spencer took your time enjoying your last meal in London before getting ready to head home.

You hailed a cab fairly quickly and piled into the backseat. Unfortunately, traffic was insane, and even though your cabbie navigated it fairly easily, you still got stuck. It took longer than you anticipated to get to the airport, but that only added to the adventure, so you weren't worried. Spencer, on the other hand, was slightly freaking out. You knew how much he hated being late, so slowly, you reached out your hand and placed it over his. When he didn't flinch away, you knew it was okay to leave it there. Over the next few minutes, his breathing slowed down, and he was back to normal.

Upon arrival at the airport, you discovered that your plane was delayed. At the news, Spencer's shoulders became less tense and his posture less rigid. Security was too bad, for the most part. The line was really long, but the process went quick. You and Spencer headed to the airport bar for a drink before the flight. You sat together at the bar, just chatting softly, which was a stark contrast to the boisterous people in the airport. A surprising number for being so late at night.

You and Spencer boarded the plane. He had the aisle, and you were in the middle. Nobody was sitting beside you, and you loved it. Your flight took off, and Spencer lifted the armrest separating you and then leaned on your shoulder. You placed a soft kiss on his head, followed by a whispered 'I love you' before settling into your seat. As his breathing evened out and he fell asleep, you started to do the same. All you could think about was how much you loved him. He put so much effort into the which was two days, primarily because of your schedule, and he made it the best trip you'd ever been on.

taglist: @sparklykeylime

@1-800-brain-and-heart @multixfandomwriter

@gspenc @myescapefromthislife @j-cat

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #happilyeverafter #hea

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gaeilgeoirgay · 3 years

Text

Naimhde

This is also part of Pósadh Eagraithe :The Series and I hope you like it! It’s from Han Solo’s POV when he first realises that 1. Boba’s alive and 2. Boba is married to Din meaning that 3. He can’t shoot Boba :(

Ao3 Link

Naimhde= Enemies

Look, Han Solo was having a good day. Emphasis on was. Ben had slept through the night again so Han got his full recommended hours of rest. Then Leia had had the morning off from the Senate so they had all gone to the park together. Luke was on planet for once with the green frog child so Ben was able to play with him. Leia had told him days ago that they were required to attend a ball that was being hosted to celebrate the Republic getting a treaty with Mandalore so he’d already gone through the seven stages of grief about that.

Now, he’s at said ball and across the room from him, Boba fucking Fett is smirking at him. Han snarls at the look the bastard has on his (apparently very scarred?) face but Leia puts a warning hand on his shoulder. “I know that’s Fett but he’s the leader of the Tatooine crime syndicate now, and rumour has it he’s taken over a couple more of the Hutt Space planets. He’s powerful, Han, and he probably hates us enough. No fighting.” She hisses into his ear.

Of course Boba Fett came out of a fucking sarlacc pit to become a godsdamned crime lord. He shouldn’t have been surprised. And he clearly has some sort of power in Mandalore because Mandalorians aren’t naturally deferential but they seem to treat Fett with an extra bit of respect.

A silver Mandalorian comes over to Fett and says something lowly to him. Fett nods and saunters over to Han and Leia with the other Mando striding ahead of him. “That’s the Mand’alor, their king. No one knows his name or species and he never takes his helmet off in front of non-Mandalorians. He signed the treaty as ‘Mand’alor the Reclaimer’ and his people adore him. He’s rumoured to be absolutely deadly, so once again, Han, I don’t care if he’s coming over with Boba Fett, behave.” Leia whispers and Han suppresses his urge to punt Fett into the nearest star.

Contrary to popular belief, Han is smart enough not to piss off the ruler of a warrior culture that are supposedly the greatest fighters in the galaxy. He got lucky with Fett the first time, he’s not making the man’s whole planet mad at him by fucking with their king.

Their pretty intimidating king, he’s not gonna lie. There’s a veritable armoury on the Mand’alor’s person and Han can see the familiar shape of a lightsaber hilt at his waist. Leia had mentioned something about a ‘Darksaber’ and Han does not want to find out the difference between a Darksaber and a lightsaber firsthand.

The Mand’alor inclines his head in a regal greeting as he halts in front of Leia. “Senator Organa, it’s a pleasure to meet you in person. Luke mentions you often.” He says in a low, smooth voice. Huh. Han is absolutely loyal to Leia but if the Mando king ever offers a threesome…..

Wait, how does Mando know Luke? Leia seems confused too but she hides it well. “The honour is all mine, Your Majesty. I wasn’t aware you were acquainted with my brother though?” She says politely, voicing the question in a much more eloquent manner than Han would’ve.

Mando chuckles and answers her with a smile in his voice. “Cuun ad, Grogu, is one of Luke’s students. He’s the small green one with an affinity for frogs.” He explains and Han raises an eyebrow. Luke had said that Grogu would never grow to be taller than maybe hip height but Mando is of fairly average height for a humanoid species. 5’10 or ’11 maybe.

Leia smiles brightly. “Yes, I do know Grogu. Luke mentioned his father was a Mandalorian. That would be you, then?” She says, relaxing slightly. Talking about children is a safe topic, even when Boba Fett is part of the conversation, and no, Han is not letting that go, he’s a Senator’s trophy husband, he’s mastered the art of polite glaring.

Fett speaks up then, still smirking. “Both of his fathers are Mandalorians. I adopted Grogu when the two of us said the riduurok.” He says, looking directly at Han as his brain freezes in its tracks.

Boba Fett is married? Boba Fett is married to the king of Mandalore? Boba Fett is a father?

None of that computes. Han Solo and Boba Fett are not supposed to have anything in common and Boba Fett is most certainly not supposed to be a regular human being with a spouse and kids and apparently a job, if being a crime lord counts as one. But clearly he is and Han is mad about it. It may be irrational but the bastard froze him in carbonite for three years and he’s gotten away with it. Whenever Han imagined Fett it was as a corpse being digested by a plant monster, not as a successful husband and father. Oh, Han is so mad.

Leia squeezes his hand a little tighter than necessary and Han grits his teeth. No fighting. He can do this. He really doesn’t want to do this. Chandrila’s sun is actually quite hot, he knows Beskar has a high melting point but he reckons it wouldn’t hold up against a star. He could just get in the Falcon, with Fett, and then space him beside the star. Boom, problem solved.

Leia is congratulating Fett and the Mand’alor on their marriage and subsequent child. To be completely honest with himself, Han may or not be considering telling Luke to get Grogu into therapy. Having Boba Fett as a father would definitely fuck a kid up.

He tunes back into the conversation as the Mand’alor answers Leia and immediately wishes he hadn’t. “Yes, children are the most important part of our culture. I adopted Grogu before we got together and I actually only met Boba a little while before Luke began teaching him. Boba always knew Grogu was part of the picture and honestly, the kid loves him. His second vow after the riddurok was a gai bal manda for Grogu.” Mando says, helmet tilted towards Fett. It’s probably the armoured equivalent of a sappy look and Han resists the urge to scowl.

He doesn’t know what a riderock or a gabblemanda is but it’s clearly important to Mandalorians and Fett is smiling broadly at his husband. Ugh.

“Oh, that’s incredibly sweet. How did you two meet?” Leia asks and Han screams internally. “When I first Found Grogu, my tribe took on the Hunter’s Guild so we could escape. I was trying to find more Mandalorians and I came across an areuttise on Tatooine who had Boba’s armour. I helped him take down a krayt dragon that was attacking his village and in exchange, he returned the armour to a mando’ad. Boba tracked me to Tython and said he would help me protect Grogu if I gave him back his armour. We were attacked by Dark Troopers and they took Grogu for Moff Gideon. Boba helped me get Grogu back and once he’d taken over Tatooine, he joined our efforts to reclaim Mandalore.” Mando explains and Leia smiles.

“That sounds romantic. The first time I met Han I threatened him.” Leia says anecdotally and Han shoots her a betrayed look. Fett is so going to use that against him somehow, Han just knows it. Instead, Fett just shakes his head and explains further. “Both of us are sol’karta, ‘aromantic’ in Basic. The Mand’alor’s council were concerned about finding a Rid’alor and I was suggested. I accepted, as the Mand’alor is one of my closest friends. I love him dearly but we’re not in love with each other. We’re best friends raising an adorably mischievous ad’ika.” He says and the Mand’alor nods.

Huh. Han can’t say he’s ever heard of an arranged marriage where both parties are friends from the start. He’s sure that some spouses end up as friends but politically arranged marriages in the Core tend to be loveless affairs. He almost finds himself congratulating them on finding a good balance but then he remembers he would be congratulating Fett. Nope, he’s not doing that.

“Oh really? Luke did mention that Grogu has a habit of disappearing on him.” Leia says and Fett laughs. “Yeah, his Force osik enables him a lot. I never realised how much of parenting was going to be coaxing a grumpy toddler off of a ceiling.” He jokes and ugh, Han can relate to that and he’s mad about it. Leia says something in response but Han is too busy glaring at Fett to hear her. The bastard is still smirking, plus he’s not even paying attention to Han, like Han is beneath his notice.

“I know you two have a son, right? If you’re ever on Manda’yaim for diplomacy, perhaps they can hang out together. I know when I was a child, I hated being in boring meetings and Grogu would definitely appreciate a friend.” Fett suggests and Han nearly explodes. Boba Fett’s hellspawn child is not going to corrupt Ben!

“Oh, Ben and Grogu met earlier today actually! Luke is on-planet at the moment and he brought Grogu with him when he heard that your people would be here.” Leia says and Mando’s helmet tilts. It probably means something in Mando Armour Language but Han has no clue what. “Is Luke still on Chandrila?” He asks, seeming curious. “Grogu is due to come home to Manda’yaim next week but if Luke is here, then I might ask if we can bring him home now to save Luke the trip.”

Leia smiles and tells Mando where to find Luke. Mando says his goodbyes and leaves, but Fett stays. They seem to have some form of communicating that Han can’t understand because Fett doesn’t seem confused at all by his husband’s departure without him.

Fett rocks back on his heels before levelling Han with a smug grin. “If you ever feel like going into Fett Space, drop by my palace on Tatooine. I love getting visits from old friends.” He says before bowing to Leia and leaving to follow Mando before Han can splutter a rebuttal. Fett Space! Is he serious?

Apparently he is, as the New Republic receives a missive a few days later, announcing Mandalore’s official recognition of the former Hutt territories as under Boba Fett, their Consort’s, unequivocal rule. It means that if the Republic ever aggravates Mandalore, they would essentially be going to war with the majority of the Outer Rim between Fett’s planets, Mandalore’s vassal planets and the seemingly endless planets that have allied themselves with Mandalore instead of the Republic.

Han isn’t too concerned about the political ramifications, seeing as that’s Leia’s remit and he’s mostly retired, but fuck, he’s mad that he can’t even think about dropkicking Fett into a star without inciting a galaxy-wide conflict. And the bastard knows it. Every time he comes to Republic events as either the Mand’alor’s spouse or as the leader of Fett Space, he acts like the perfect model of decorum so Han can’t even argue that he was provoked.

Han is forty-three, he shouldn’t be having aneurysms but every time he sees Fett his brain stops getting the message. The worst part is that Leia has become friends with the Mandalorian king and Ben is fond of the green child, so Han is forced to interact with Fett on a far too regular basis. Forget Fett, Han is considering launching himself into a star.

Sadly, Leia won’t let him. So Han has to put up with Fett for just a while longer. Speaking of, how old is Fett? Can Han get away with measuring coffins yet? Please say the bastard is at least ninety, he was around during the Clone Wars, there can’t be much left in him. Please, Han is going to lose his mind if he has to play nice with Boba Fett again. And again. And again.

(systems away, Boba’s ears go hot and he knows that Solo is plotting his death once more. Grogu coos and Boba looks down to see the womprat chewing on his pendant again. He chuckles and grabs something softer for Grogu to gnaw at. He has more important things to think about than Solo.)

#posadh eagraithe the series #han solo #boba fett #din djarin #leia organa #bobadin #hanleia #aromantic boba fett #aromantic din djarin #ao3 #fanfiction #star wars #the mandalorian

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morimakesfanart · 3 years

Text

Sindria's Prophet #13

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

[AO3]

((edited because I figured out to add some more history facts that I think are important))

~POV Sinbad~

"The Kou Empire, huh?"

"That is going to make things risky."

With all of the Generals caught up with what happened in Balbadd, they needed to start planning for King Sinbad's trip to the Kou Empire, as well as catching him up with everything that had happened in Sindria while he was gone.

"LadY YamuRAI H AA AA A" A yell came from the hallway accompanied by the sounds of running.

((Sinbad is hidden on the left. There's a hint of him poking out.))

A panting magician gave apologies for disturbing their meeting and ran to the head of Sindria's magicians. "I wish I knew you were here so I didn't search the tower first~" Then he started explaining about some magical proof. Most of his words sounded like gibberish to the rest, but it was clear that he had made some kind of break though.

Yam jumped out of her seat. "How did you finally figure it out?! Who figured it out?!" She whipped her head to her King, "Sorry your majesty," and then looked back to the other magician.

"It was the work of the Prophet!” the magician answered. "We were talking about her illness and she pulled out scrolls that- you just have to read them for yourself!”

Mori had said that she had written other scrolls before she started coping down Fate. This must have been what she was working on.

Both magicians bowed out to go test out this new information. Before they could leave, Sinbad ended the meeting; there was no way he was going to wait to learn what other information Mori had blessed them with. Ja'far followed as did a few of the other Generals.

When they got into the court yard, the doctors that had been sent to take care of Mori were already pushing their supply cart back to their main building. The magician that had stayed behind spotted them and raised two scrolls up triumphantly. "She let me take the scrolls!"

---

News of the scrolls written by a Prophet spread throughout the Black Libra Tower within an hour. Yamuraiha and the doctors explained their significance to King Sinbad.

If even a fraction of the theories in the scrolls proved true it would completely changed their understanding of how illnesses work. If Mori wasn't sick she would undoubtedly be swarmed with questions and demands for proof. According to the magicians, nothing in the scrolls went against any known information. Instead, they gave explanations to why certain things that had been attempted in the past had failed. What she wrote about 'cells' was what really caught the eyes of the white magicians and doctors. As an example, according to Mori's writing there were blood types and most couldn't mix; that would explain why most past attempts at blood transfusions had failed.

The 2nd scroll showed a break down of even smaller particles, and how the structures of different particles made up everything. This was going to bring alchemic magic to a whole new era. Sure, such things would most likely be limited to high magicians, group efforts, and the Magi, but it looked possible now. A lot of common magic of the current day took extreme amounts of magoi in the past because they hadn't found the right formula yet. Mori's writing -if true- could easily be used as a guide to finding the right order of commands for many spells.

And even more than that, Mori had said that she had even more information to share; she had just ran out of scrolls and ink.

Mori's presence in Sindria, and everything that went with it were Fate and the Rukh's guidance. King Sinbad could see it -the future he wanted.

---

~POV Mori~

In Sindria's Palace there is a Great Bell. It is rung during celebrations, and to signify the King returning home like it did earlier that day, but it's main use was to ring every 2 hours to tell everyone the time since clocks weren't invented yet. So even though I was a sick person trying to rest during the day, I was woken up by the Great Bell every 2 hours... which of course is also situated right on top of the guest tower.

For obvious reasons, I was awake again.

I wish I knew how the others responded to the scrolls. I really wanted to know Yam's opinion most. Those scrolls basically gave away the secret to Yunan's signature alchemy magic.

I still had the first scroll I had worked on -the one on the science behind blimps-, and the last science scroll I had started. That one was on DNA, and reproductive systems. It was the last one I started in Balbadd. I hadn't started working on it until sunrise on my 2nd sleepless night and it showed; there were missing words everywhere, many incomplete sentences, and I couldn't stay in topic.

These mistakes were too great to fix with an ink knife. Editing was going be super annoying and time consuming since I couldn't work digitally. I'd have to physically cut up the first draft to put everything in the right order before making the next one.

Wait- Did this world have scissors???

Back home the first evolution of shears that could be labeled as scissors was in Roman barber shops in the last hundred years or so before Rome fell. China would spontaneous also create something akin to scissors not long after. Reim and the Kou Empire seemed to line up with Rome and ancient China for the most part, so I tend to use them to place the time period, but the dress Princess Dunya wears is centuries off and throws all historical accuracy questions out the window. Rome was long gone by the time boning was added to women's undergarments, and that dress had all the signs of boned corsetry.

Fuck it. I'll ask for scissors and if they don't have them I'll just invent them myself. I had been drafting professionally for the past 4 years. That may have been for microelectronics, but it uses all the same skills; I could do this. I needed to get a ruler -or at least a straight edge- and a drafting compass which they probably have based on the look of maps in the series, and pencils, or at least colored inks if they had them. I probably needed to reinvent the French curve(stencil tool used in art & drafting)...

Since I was struggling to fall back asleep I moved to the table and pulled out my test scroll. It was full of random marks and some of my early drawing attempts that I used to practice with the dip pen -it's also where I wrote down the dreams from the Rukh. I'd write the list of things I needed, rip the section out of the scroll, and pass the list to someone who could get me what I was asking for. I added some living necessities too like sleep wear and a comb.

The maids that came to give me dinner, and next dose of medicine were not pleased that I wasn't in bed -I was an important guest who was sick after all. And I wasn't pleased to have to drink more of that bitter medicine, but we can't have nice things all the time, now can we?

My voices was strained but I managed to communicate enough. I gave them my list, and laundry (the clothes I wore on the boat) before they left. They'd get me the things the next day. I was instructed to sleep until someone brings me breakfast the next day... which is what I was going to do anyway since the sun was practically gone. I might be a bit of a workaholic but I'm not going to let myself pull an accidental all-nighter when I know I'm still sick. I'm far more self aware than that.

And besides, the Great Bell didn't ring at night.

---

Maids brought my breakfast (& meds) the next morning and let me know that my clothes would be cleaned and dry by the end of the day. I guess they didn't use magic for everything.

They also gave me all of the drafting and inking supplies I asked for except for scissors. In one of the omakes Sinbad was shown cutting his hair with a knife as a part of his normal grooming. I had hoped he was just old fashioned.

For the greater good and the future of my own hair care, I drafted up detailed designs for a few different types of basic scissors. They wouldn't look fancy, but hopefully I had put enough of a detailed explanation on everything for the smith to figure out what I was asking. Steel wasn't developed until the middle ages and some of the counties of this world matched that so I hoped

that God and anime were on my side. I really wanted scissors that would be a good quality.

And if that didn't work I'd just have to get used to using knives and bladed rollers like a regular person.

The Great Bell rung for 10 am. There were at least another 2 hours before someone would show up, to give lunch, that I could ask to take my draft for the scissors to a black Smith.

I should be resting as a sick person. I should be more exhausted and in pain as a sick person. What was making me recover this quickly?

I still didn't feel like laying back down, so I decided to start drafting up the materials and equipment for proving everything I had written in the scrolls I gave the previous day.

Globally, micro-organisms, viruses, and bacteria were not really accept or proved until the late 1800's. Since Magi seems to take place some time around our 100AD-1300, and Yunan hinting at chemical compounds was seen as shocking by Yam, I knew that my bio scrolls were probably causing an uproar in the Black Libra Tower. I refused to use actual people or wait for an outbreak to prove it like how it happened in history -like how John Snow proved it when finding the cause of cholera outbreaks in 1848 and 1854 England. No, I needed to show how to prove these things in a lab, and to do that I was going to need to explain how to keep samples and invent a way to see microorganisms.

First was for a glass petri dish and other containers for samples. I'd need at least 3 -preferably more. I know glass works have been around since BC, and that this world had glass windows in some scenes, but I worried about the quality of the glass contaminating the experiments. I was going to have to boil them beforehand to sterilize them anyway.

Gosh I wish I had access to nonporous, air tight containers, and a temperature controlled environment. The heat and humidity of Sindria could easily mess everything up.

Wait... I suddenly remembered a scene from the Magnostadt arc when they showed how a sample was being stored. They already had good enough glass. I knew there were magic bio experiments but I had no idea how they worked.

With the realization that I was getting ahead myself, I switched to writing about how to use the scientific method to test for germs. It was basically the bread in a bag test to teach young children about germs but with petri dishes. I also wrote about how to analyze samples with a microscope to see micro organisms so I was going to have to figure that out next.

Lunch came as the perfect break.

Just thinking about reinventing this thing made me nervous. I knew magnifying glasses existed in ancient Rome, but they would be nothing like what I was used to. I had to explain how light moves and made multiple diagrams showing how concave and convex lenses affect light as well as the material of the lens. I ended up also showing how to make a telescope even though I knew Yam already had one.

Magicians were the only ones shown with glasses. Maybe now the rest of the world could have them too.

4 o'clock came and so did 3 doctors and a magician. It was less than yesterday, but still more than necessary to treat or analyze one person. I only recognized one of the doctors from the previous day. All of the new faces looked nervous. None of them looked young by any measure, so I really doubted this was their first time treating someone.

They weren't happy to see me at the table and made me return to my bed -their loss.

The doctor from the previous day was the one doing most of the talking. "Your recovery is amazing. You will most likely be better in another 3 days at this rate if not sooner. It's practically a miracle."

I smiled. "It's pretty shocking for me too." As long as I spoke quietly and kept my comments short, I found I could talk again for a bit.

The doctor was silent for a moment before changing the subject. "I know you need rest, but would you be willing to answer a few questions about those scrolls from yesterday?

The 3 other men looked expectant. This was why they were here.

"I don't mind as long as you don't make me talk too much."

Then came the question I was expecting since I had first made the scrolls. "I know you are a Prophet and the information came from your visions but is there any way you can prove what you wrote?"

I pointed to the table with the scroll I had started earlier. "I can't prove it with the current equipment I have, so I've been drafting up the needed equipment and processes for proving it."

They all turned to look at where I was pointing.

I added, "It's not done, but you're welcome to read what I have so far."

I was thanked as they went to the table they had called me away from when they entered.

'He called it 'visions?' Really?' I had to ask Sinbad later what he was telling his people about me so I could keep the story straight.

The magician confirmed for the others what I wrote about light bending. There was magic to do that, but not everyone is a magician. I had just invented a way for non-magicians to bend light.

Just wait until I show them a prism that can split light into colors. Or teach them how light is perceived in the eye. Or even better, show them the double slit experiment that proves that light is a particle not just a wave... Did they know light was a wave yet?

"Lady Prophet."

I was pulled out of my thoughts.

"You said this isn't finished and there is plenty of space in this scroll for more, but would you let us take this back to the tower so we can get started?"

I wanted to say 'no.' I was still coming up with things to add to it, but I also knew that holding things back because I wanted to save paper was a fool's game. Besides, I could always add more to it later.

I nodded and they thanked me before making me promise not to leave my bed. They were grateful for this new scroll but not at the expense of my health -they were doctors after all.

And then they left.

It was probably about 5pm if my internal clock was on schedule, so I had about an hour before the next ring of the Bell.

Even if I wasn't a man of my word, I would have lost the motivation to work with my current project taken from me while I was still in the middle of making it.

So, I did the thing I grew up doing when I was bedridden from illness: I looked out the window. From the bed I could only see the tops of the buildings on the other side of the courtyard. The Tower that was just poking in from the left had to be the Black Libra Tower.

The waves in Sindria were calmer yet stronger than those in Balbadd. It was probably due to Sinbad's influence. He brought stability and security to his people. I could understand why so many chose to follow him or ally with him. But I knew where all this would lead. As he obtains more power and influence he will stop being able to see himself from the pedestal that he and everyone else put him on; his greed will make him blind to the wants and needs of others, and like a middle aged parent that isn't ready for their child to leave the nest he will take out his frustration on the world that was moving on without him. When Sinbad dies at the end of the manga, Drakon realizes that they all put too much on Sinbad's shoulders.

To change Fate, I was going to have to make sure I never put him on that pedestal nor rely on him for much. And I was going to have to convince the 8 Generals to do the same -or at least to start pulling more of the weight.

The 6 o'clock Bell came faster than I expected, as well as my dinner not long after. They brought my clean laundry, a sleeping gown, and some other common clothes and things for my convenience.

I would have preferred something much shorter for the night gown since I hate having a lot of extra fabric around my legs when I already have blankets. I was not going to risk being walked in on by doctors or whoever when sleeping naked, so I would make do for now.

There was no way King Sinbad wasn't going to reward me for those scrolls. If it was some kind of treasure I'd sell it and buy a new wardrobe for myself that actually suited me, and if the reward was a request then I would ask that he pay for everything directly.

The light coming in my windows changed, and I watched my 2nd sunset in Sindria.

When Sinbad found this island 10 years ago, he completely terraformed it. He didn't get rid of all of the vegetation that was here, but he did break down one of the sides to allow for easier access by boat. The side he carved out faced northish towards all of the other known countries, so no boat would have a reason to circle the island. It was a decision that would benefit the merchants and make it easier to defend.

It also meant that my windows faced west, so I could watch the Sun set every day. I couldn't help but see that as a blessing and a curse. Sure not getting the sunrise meant I'd need to put more effort into

waking up in the morning but that wasn't the part I was worried about.

See- The thing is... I have synesthesia (having 2 or more senses overlapping). I see sounds, letters, and numbers as colors and textures. I have it mild enough that I can normally block it out so it's not too distracting (thank God because music is a main stim), but sometimes I'll hear something and get overwhelmed by how it looks.

Each letter and number is a color. So every voice can make every color, but language, pitch, tone, and accent all affect the colors and textures I see from a person's voice like a filter. There have definitely been some people that I struggled to give my full attention to when I first met them because I was entranced by how their voice looked. The more I hear a person's voice the more I'm able to move its visuals to the background so I can focus -desensitizing myself to it.

Luckily, Sinbad's voice is normally not so distracting that I stop paying attention. Since it's like a merger of every voice actor I've heard play him (All the characters I had met so far were like this.) I'm already desensitized. The similarities across all of the VAs meant that his voice looked like a sunset -full of deep purples and magentas, and bright reds, peach, and gold, and with a smooth and flowing texture like painting in acrylic with a wet brush -like a painting of the last moments of a sunset.

His voice was as pretty as he was.

I hadn't actually gotten to see or hear him for a whole day. But I'd get to look at his voice's equivalent every day while living under his protection.

It was frustrating to admit -I barely knew him as a real person- yet I couldn't deny that I missed him. I feel asleep watching the sun set.

((I wasn't going to write about my synesthesia, but this is my fanfic and I thought it might be fun to reference the colors peoples voices make when the characters talk. I'm not going to paint every VA and head cannon, but I will describe them as I go. Ja'far's Japanese and English VAs have voices that look very different so finding the middle ground is proving tricky.

Also, anyone who noticed that the purple I see in Sinbad's voice is the same as the purple I've been using for the illustrations and comics is super smart and cool.))

#magi prophet fanfic #magi fanfiction #magi fanfic #sinbad magi #king sinbad #magi sinbad

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mostlymovieswithmax · 3 years

Text

Movies I watched in March

Thought I’d chronicle the films I’ve been watching over the March period, from the 1st to the 31st, and how I’d rate them. If you’re looking for something to watch, perhaps this will help. A lot of these movies are available on streaming services also.

The Wolf of Wall Street (2013) - 10/10

I hadn’t watched this in a couple of years but I was blown away. Peak Scorsese.

Rushmore (1998) - 7/10

Not the best Wes Anderson movie for me but still fun.

Lion (2016) - 8/10

I discussed this at length on my podcast: The Sunday Movie Marathon. Great movie!

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) - 10/10

Now this is one of the best Wes Anderson movies. I discuss this more on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Fantastic, funny and I watched it twice because it’s so much fun.

Inception (2010) - 10/10

Discussed on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Best Christopher Nolan movie for me, Inception is just breathtaking.

The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou (2004) - 5/10

This might be Anderson’s weakest film (at least from what I’ve seen) but it’s still not as bad as a lot of directors at their worst.

The Royal Tenenbaums (2001) - 10/10

I was really on an Anderson binge in March. The Royal Tenenbaums is one of the most wholesome movies I’ve seen and certainly one of his best films.

Rome, Open City (1945) - 4/10

This was filmed in Nazi-occupied Italy and from that premise, the film enticed me. Despite having some interesting qualities, I do feel that initial pull is most of what the movie has going for it.

The Prestige (2006) - 7/10

I showed this to my brother and for what it’s worth, he enjoyed it. I do think this is one of Nolan’s weaker efforts but considering how much I like it, that speaks a lot to Nolan’s filmography as a whole.

Nostalgia (1983) - 10/10

I watched Nostalgia three times in the space of a week and reviewed it on The Sunday Movie Marathon. It’s phenomenal.

Kangaroo Jack (2003) - 1/10

Another one I watched for the podcast. Kangaroo Jack is truly terrible and it upset me a great deal. Avoid this movie.

Stalker (1979) - 10/10

Another Andrei Tarkovsky movie (director of Nostalgia). I watched this again during the day before my second watch of Nostalgia and while it’s hard to compare such different movies, I enjoy Stalker more. It’s a staple of Russian cinema for a reason.

Four Lions (2010) - 5/10

Watched for the podcast. I didn’t really gel with this comedy but it would certainly appeal to someone who enjoys the humour, as my co-hosts did.

Revolutionary Road (2008) - 6/10

This Sam Mendes joint was a tad too melodramatic but still boasted some great performances from Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet.

Metropolis (1927) - 6/10

This silent film is a staple in cinematic history. Its themes are as painfully relevant today as they were in the 20’s, yet despite that I found a lot of it to be intensely boring. After it hit the hour mark, I started playing it at 1.5x speed.

Crimson Peak (2015) - 4/10

A lot of great set design and costumes and colours, yet the story itself was madly uninteresting.

Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind (2004) - 10/10

Who doesn’t love a good movie written by Charlie Kaufman? I reviewed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon and after a third watch, it is as fascinating as it is gut-wrenching.

Godzilla (2014) - 3/10

If you wanted to see Godzilla fight a bunch of monsters for two hours, then this is not the movie for you. There’s maybe about ten minutes total of on-screen Godzilla action and considering that’s really all anyone’s watching this for, it’s amazing the titular sea lizard occupies so little of the movie.

Prisoners (2013) - 10/10

Brilliant mystery thriller by my favourite director, Denis Villeneuve. Discussed on the podcast.

Eraserhead (1977) - 7/10

David Lynch’s debut feature film went down in my estimations this time around. You can listen to why on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Still, Eraserhead is a very good movie.

Raiders of The Lost Ark (1981) - 6/10

The first Indiana Jones movie proved to be a fun romp and Harrison Ford plays the character beautifully. I’m just not a big fan of Spielberg and his average verging on pretty good but rarely ever great movies. Perhaps on a second watch, I may enjoy this more.

The Seventh Seal (1957) - 9/10

Watching this movie again was so much fun. So far, it’s my favourite Ingmar Bergman film. It’s a celebration of life and love, with an underlying sense of dread as death looms ever-present.

Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom (1984) - 5/10

I can tell why this generally looked on as the weakest in the trilogy. Harrison Ford is still great but the movie dragged a lot and felt more like a bunch of things happening for the sake of it rather than a fun action/adventure.

Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade (1989) - 7/10

The Last Crusade was a lot of fun and maybe it was Sean Connery’s inclusion, or perhaps the bottle of wine I drank through the movie elevated my enjoyment. But alcohol aside, I still believe this to be the best in the series.

Justice League (2017) - 2/10

People really weren’t kidding when they said this was bad. I watched this in preparation for the Snyder cut and I was not happy. This took years off my life.

Zack Snyder’s Justice League (2021) - 3/10

Barely any better and double the run-time of the original. I discussed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon and I was certainly not impressed. Better luck next time, Zack!

The Truman Show (1998) - 10/10

Brilliant movie and one I would highly recommend for a stellar Jim Carrey performance. This was another recommendation for the podcast.

Eighth Grade (2018) - 7/10

I was impressed with Bo Burnham’s debut feature. This is a coming of age story centred around a young girl growing up in the modern world and how it can affect the youth of today. Burnham shows a deep understanding of youth culture and a real knack for filmmaking.

Bad Education (2019) - 8/10

A real “yikes!” movie. If you want to learn a bit about the embezzlement that took place in an American school back in the early 2000’s, you need not look further than this tight drama with fantastic performances from Hugh Jackman and Allison Janney.

Twelve Monkeys (1995) - 8/10

One of the only movies where the time travel makes sense. I recommended this for The Sunday Movie Marathon and it’s pretty great.

Ready Or Not (2019) - 7/10

Despite a premise that is not wholly original and a super goofy third act, Ready Or Not is gory, violent fun with a lot of stylish art direction.

Dead Man (1995) - 3/10

Recommended on the podcast. I really did not get a lot out of Dead Man. It’s a very slow movie about Johnny Depp going through the woods and killing some people on the way, but it’s two hours long and hugely metaphorical and sadly it just didn’t connect.

Misbehaviour (2020) - 6/10

A big draw for me in Misbehaviour is Keira Knightley; I think she’s a great actor and I’m basically on board with anything she does. I’d been wanting to see this for a while and I was shocked to see just how relevant it is (being set in 1970) to the world we find ourselves in today, where women are still fighting to be heard and to be treated equally. While the film is not spectacular, I still got a lot from its themes, so recently after the murder of Sarah Everard and how women are being treated in their protest.

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love The Bomb (1964) - 7/10

I was surprised at just how hilarious this early Kubrick movie is. While I can’t say it floored me or took any top spots, it’s still a great examination of the military and how they respond to threats or try to solve problems and the side of war we don’t often see in films: the people in the background sitting in a room making crucial decisions.

Taxi Driver (1976) - 10/10

Wow! I can’t believe I’d never seen this before but I’d never really had access to it. Taxi Driver is a beautifully made movie with so much colour and vibrancy. De Niro puts on perhaps his best performance and Paul Schrader’s timeless script works miracles.

Sleepy Hollow (1999) - 5/10

Classic Tim Burton aesthetics in a pretty by the numbers, almost Supernatural-esque story eked out over an hour and forty minutes.

Seaspiracy (2021) - 6/10

Everyone’s going crazy over this documentary and I agree it tackles important issues we’re facing today surrounding the commercialization of the fishing industry, but a lot of what’s presented here is information already available to the public. The editing feels misplaced at times and the tone is all over the place. Nonetheless, it’s still quite fascinating to see good journalism being done in a way that exposes this side of the industry.

Pirates of The Carribean: The Curse of The Black Pearl (2003) - 8/10

Super fun and a great first instalment in a franchise that sadly seems to have peaked at the first hurdle.

My Octopus Teacher (2020) - 8/10

Great cinematography and a lovely premise, this documentary has garnered an Oscar nomination and I can see why.

The Sisters Brothers (2018) - 8/10

A really solid western I was happy to watch again. It’s a shame no one really talks about this movie because it is excellent with stunning visuals and great performances.

Pirates of The Carribean: Dead Man’s Chest (2006) - 5/10

A strangely massive drop in quality from the original. If I didn’t like the whole concept of this franchise so much, I might have had a worse time.

Reservoir Dogs (1992) - 8/10

On a second watch, Tarantino’s first feature is still wildly impressive.

Life of Brian (1979) - 7/10

This is perhaps my third time watching Monty Python’s Life of Brian and it’s still incredibly funny, however it never manages to measure up to its predecessor (and one of my all time favourites), Monty Python and The Holy Grail.

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epicofevil · 3 years

Text

Series Illustrator Interview

Epic of Evil page 71-76

Meeting With AkunoP

--First, please introduce yourselves.

Yoshida Dondorian (hereon: Yoshida): I’m Yoshida. I started working on the series in “Wiegenlied of Green”!

you-ring@Kitano Tomotoshi (hereon: you-ring): I’m you-ring@Kitano Tomotoshi, who got to draw the cover art for “Praeludium of Red” and “Praefacio of Blue”.

You: I’m You. I did the cover for this book, “Epic of Evil”. This is my second interview after the one in Entr’acte of Evil, but I’m a bit nervous this time too.

--You-san answered this question in “Entr’acte of Evil”’s illustrator interview, but you-ring-san and Yoshida-san, what was your first AkunoP work?

Yoshida: I first started listening to VOCALOID around 2009 or so…So I got in around the time all those derivative fan videos of “Daughter of Evil” were coming out.

you-ring: My first AkunoP songs were “Daughter of Evil” and “Servant of Evil” of course. I think it was around the time “Servant of Evil” got uploaded, and I saw all these comments to watch it after watching “Daughter of Evil”, so I did…I remember bawling over it.

--There was a ton of uproar over “Daughter of Evil” and “Servant of Evil” at the time, wasn’t there. What was your impression of AkunoP-san himself?

Yoshida: Didn’t I hear that he completely transformed himself…!?

--Transformed (haha). That’s true, he did do an image change to wearing sunglasses and a beard.

Yoshida: My image of him wasn’t like that at all, so I think I might have been introduced to him pre-transformation at “VOC@LOiD M@STER” (colloquially “VoMas”)!

you-ring: I think I also saw him the first time at VoMas…But I can’t remember when that was lol

Yoshida: Rather than being surprised by him, I remember thinking, “Ah, so this is the guy who made the Of Evil series…!” That sort of thing.

you-ring: For an “Evil” person he seemed very good-natured. …That might count as malicious rumor, hey?

--I wouldn’t think so (haha)

you-ring: Sounds like I’m not getting scolded lol. In that sense, unlike Yoshida-san I was very surprised by him.

Celebrating Series Completion! Most Bittersweet

--Please tell us how you felt when the final and fourth installment of the series came out. you-ring-san, you were the one who worked on the cover for the fourth novel, Yoshida-san you worked on some of its artwork, and You-san you participated in the pinup art.

Yoshida: With all of the plot threads that were being revealed, from the first novel to the last I felt like it was all so very interesting…And also that I really wanted to read more of the “Of Evil” world just a little longer!

You: I had a lot of fun being able to draw art for each installment, and I remember feeling really desolate that we were at the last one. Even now I have the “Daughter of Evil” books piled up on my desk; you-ring-san’s Kyle, coupled with the book’s contents, are very striking, I think.

you-ring: While I felt very uplifted at being able to continue to do the cover art after the third book, at the same time the pressure at it being the finale was immeasurable. Still, in the end, since it was Kyle I muddled through it.

You: Also, it really felt like a collaborative effort, with Yoshida-san’s pictures really connecting the third and fourth books.

Yoshida: Aw, thank you so much!

you-ring: I would find myself going back to look at Yoshida-san’s artwork! I can’t help but sigh in admiration every time I see everyone’s artwork. You-san and Yoshida-san both have such tremendous ability for creating atmosphere in their pictures.

Yoshida: I’m truly honored…!

You: You’re much too kind! So many other illustrators contributed to the Of Evil novels, so it’s really fun in the sense that we get to see various worlds within that. Like, “Ah, that’s another way to go about it too”.

Yoshida: Yeah, I was always looking forward to it, and also every time I would get really nervous about if I’m redundant or not.

you-ring: Concepts and worldviews that I couldn’t put forward…I got a ton of motivation. I also had the same anxiety about being redundant lol, I was doing this work while constantly wondering if it was good enough.

Yoshida: And You-san and you-ring-san made such lovely art and covers from the very first installment, including “Entr’acte of Evil”. They really caught my eye when I saw them at the publisher’s!

--The illustrations for this book turned out pretty gorgeous too.

You: Wow!

Yoshida: Oh! I’m really excited to see it!

You: My heart’s all fluttery now…

you-ring: I’m gonna head over to the publisher’s in a bit! (I haven’t left yet)

You: Though everyone who’s reading this will have seen them already. Sounds great.

--On that topic, Elluka’s finally debuted on this cover.

Yoshida: I love her so much that I picked Elluka-san as my image for the illustrator comments in book four, so that makes me happy! I’m looking forward to that too! You-san’s Elluka is so pretty…

You: I was really happy to be able to draw Elluka-sama prominently, given her unique position. Her general image is really evocative of purple, which is a color you don’t see too much on book covers I think.

you-ring: I got really excited to see it as soon as I heard about it! I wanna see it already!

--On that note, all of the members here are people who’ve drawn a decent amount of characters. Please tell us of any you had fun drawing, or any you particularly like.

Yoshida: The sorceresses, of course! Naturally I love the other more human characters too, but with them having that unique position that got mentioned earlier, I’m just super drawn to these somewhat detached women… Although the frontispiece for this book is my first time drawing them.

You: In my afterwards comments I declared my favorites to be Allen-kun, Elluka, and Gumillia, but the person I get fired up about drawing is Yukina-chan from the third book. Since she’s a character that didn’t get featured in the songs originally, it was very refreshing to be able to draw her. After that, obviously Riliane and Allen.

you-ring: Yukina in the frontispiece for the third book was so beautiful, she was just too precious lol

Yoshida: Same for how you drew her!

you-ring: Out of all the things I’ve gotten to draw, I’ve drawn Yukina the most, and so I’ve become the most attached to her. In this story with so many different characters interwoven through it, I think she’s a girl with a really interesting and toothsome place in it. Also Prim too, actually—she’s comparatively more difficult in terms of time and labor to draw, but she was also pretty fun…

You: you-ring’s Prim is too beautiful, my eyes end up getting drawn to her chest…(haha)

Yoshida: Prim’s chest…and the wrinkling in her clothing under her chest.

you-ring: Wha—we’re talking about her chest now!? Shame on you lol. Yoshida-san, you really surprised me with how differently you were able to depict Yukina, despite her being the same character.

You: That illustration was so amazing, it really felt like it had that feeling of the pen telling the story. I also liked how the character silhouettes were put in with their motif colors.

you-ring: Yeah, the tracing line of the pen was great! I was just stunned at the concept put into such a picture.

Yoshida: Oh wow, thanks you guys! That kind of motif is one that’s very much inlaid into the story, and I just wanted to depict it myself…! The “Of Evil” world is full of setups and amazing motifs like that…So I just get…really excited…!

Yoshida: In that sense I also really look forward to the book binding, too! Like, “What kind of figure will be on the flap?” or “what’ll be the design on the pages this time?”…

You: I got you. The rose-->grape-->feather-->seashell designs were really cool.

--Thank you very much! I’d like you to observe the image of the cover under the dust jacket.

You: Ney-chan…

Yoshida: Praeludium and Praefacio…This is really…amazing! Anyone who hasn’t seen it should go look!

--There’s also a secret trick with Wiegenlied as well!

You: Everyone go look at the under-cover…!

Yoshida: Woah, I don’t think I ever noticed…! What is this…! *Rustle rustle* Aaah! Wow!!

you-ring: I guess everyone went to take off their dust jackets all at once, lol

Yoshida: Woooah! *rustlerustlerustle* …What a fantastic production…

You: Feels like everyone at the publisher’s made this really neatly~

Yoshida: I always get a kick out of seeing the maps and commentary! At the very beginning—if you’ll pardon my saying so—I was really dubious as to how it would turn out, since there weren’t any novelizations of VOCALOID songs at the time. But it was made with such love, and the story is naturally very interesting, I feel very strongly that this work makes for amazing books!

--When you put it like that, all the hard work was worth it!

Any Surprises? Results of the Character Popularity Poll.

--This time around we conducted a character popularity poll!

You: Kyle did very well!

you-ring: Allen had a real strong running!!

Yoshida: Woah…! I wasn’t expecting Clarith’s position…!

--There were a lot of comments from people empathizing with Clarith, it seems.

You: I see…(tears)

Yoshida: I also felt the most moved by Clarith. Congratulations, Clarith…!

--Michaela’s ranking was really surprising. And then there’s Ayn…

Yoshida: Ah, now that you mention it! That’s quite a feat. Surely you’ll put in something commemorative on the cover edges…?

You: Ah! I’ve already completed the cover, so…Everyone, please look at it with your mental eye instead…!

Yoshida: Wha…

you-ring: If I strain my eyes, I see there…

--Ayn has no character design, so you’ll all have to make sure to draw him when you get the chance (haha)

Yoshida: Well then, maybe we could slip him into an illustration… Though he doesn’t have a design…

You: That’s a good idea! Maybe I’ll upload an image to my blog then…lol

Yoshida: Ooh! I’d love to see your Ayn, You-san…! I’ll covertly look forward to it…

you-ring: You mean a festival for the Ayn I came up with!?

You: You’re gonna draw him too, aren’t you you-ring-san?

you-ring: Uh.

Yoshida: Yeah! Ayn’s gotta have this magnificent backstory, right? I feel like Akuno-san would make something like that…

--Various countries were featured throughout the story; are there any that you all would like to go to?

you-ring: It’s not a country, but I’d like to just go see the Millennium Tree at least once, soon. So in that sense, Elphegort?

Yoshida: Oh, me too! I want to go to the Millennium Tree Forest. Also, of course, the place where the story started: Lucifenia.

You: I also think I’d like to see the Millennium Tree. It’d feel like a world heritage spot, don’t you think? Also, I’d want to go to a banquet on the Freezis Estate (though I can’t).

--Held-sama is quite popular then! The Millennium Tree is meant to be a former pilgrimage site, though lately it sounds like not many people go there anymore.

you-ring: It’s an undiscovered gem! I’d just like to go there and take my time idling around, seeing everyting…

Yoshida: I’d love that! Frankly, all the countries sound dangerous…Even the Millennium Tree isn’t safe, but it has a peaceful image I think, so if I went to any of them physically…The Millennium Tree is good.

you-ring: Sorry that you asked us a question about countries and we all answered with a forest lol

And Now, To the “Seven Deadly Sins”

--Now that the “Daughter of Evil” series is complete, let’s hear some nice words for AkunoP-san, if you please.

Yoshida: Congratulations on finishing it. You did such good work! Although, as a reader, there’s still a lot more I want to see. I’m…really really excited to see the “Deadly Sins of Evil” series (chuckle)

You: I’m saying this a lot here, but I want to say thank you for all your hard work, it’s greatly appreciated. I’m very happy at just being able to depict your characters, Akuno-san. I’m also excited for the “Deadly Sins of Evil”. I’ll be in anticipation while listening to the songs on repeat.

you-ring: Always stay evil, yeah? I’m also looking forward to the Deadly Sins Series! And a sincere congratulations on finishing the Daughter of Evil series.

--Please tell us more how you’re all curious about and looking forward to the new “Deadly Sins” series.

you-ring: As a reader I’m very curious as to how the story will be told and how it’ll be released, like if each sin will be published one by one.

Yoshida: The Seven Deadly Sins have a strong impact in various different directions, so I’m really excited to see how it all ties together!

You: I’m looking forward to seeing how the various secrets woven into the work get brought to light. I feel like reading the “Deadly Sins” series will end up making me want to reread the “Daughter of Evil” series again.

--Thank you very much! Now then, please say one last thing here.

Yoshida: I am truly grateful for being able to assist in the “Daughter of Evil” series. It’s a wonderful thing to be involved in this enormous world. The songs, the books, I hope to see even more from here on out!

you-ring: I think this series has let me take part in a truly valuable experience, and it’s been a great honor to take part in it. Thank you very much for inviting me on here!

You: From the very first book to this “Epic of Evil”, thank you so much for having me draw for this series for such a long time. I’ve nothing but gratitude.

--Thank you all for your time.

directory

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cassandraclare · 4 years

Text

The Anniversary Party

Someone asked me about the flash fiction this month, and I realized I’d sent it out in my newsletter, but forgotten to post it! So here’s the whole Jan/Feb story, in which we get a bit of background on Cordelia and her family. Art by Cassandra Jean, of course! This is the last of the flash fiction stories, and it’s been a pleasure to share them with you!

THE ANNIVERSARY PARTY

FRANCE, 1899....

Cordelia did not like Menton very much. She should have, in theory. Menton was a pretty seaside town, a jumble of pink and yellow buildings along a small harbor, mostly slips for sailboats and some fishing boats. The air was warm and Mediterranean, the fish was exceptionally fresh, she could see Italy from her bedroom window across the far side of the harbor. What was there not to like?

They had come for her father’s health—why else did they go anywhere, after all—and Cordelia could understand why Menton had a reputation as a healing destination for the sick and the elderly. Indeed, her father’s health had rebounded since their arrival a few weeks earlier and he was in a period of good spirits, willing to dance with her in the parlor and even managing to drag a smile out of Alastair on occasion. Alastair had entered a turbulent adolescence, as Cordelia overheard her mother say to her father. Cordelia hoped that when she was Alastair’s age she would maintain her composure a little better than he was managing.

But Menton’s charms quickly faded for her. Its popularity with the sick and the elderly meant that the town’s population had a large proportion of both, and while Cordelia wished them all well, they did not offer her much in the way of companions or even adults interested in conversation with a girl for whom French was her third language, and not very strong. The beach turned out to be made not of sand but of large round pebbles—Cordelia had never heard of such a thing, a beach made of rocks, very uncomfortable on bare feet, not pleasant to lie on, and offering no opportunity for building castles or digging trenches.

Worst of all, her parents continued to be as antisocial as ever, making no efforts to reach out to the local Shadowhunter community (the closest Institute being in Marseilles). And so Cordelia was alone. Sometimes she was alone with Alastair, but he mostly ignored her, and even so they were both duly sick of each other’s sole company after a week.

The only source of relief was the knowledge that this, too, would pass—the Carstairs family moved constantly, obsessively, for the sake of her father’s health. Cordelia could never understand the logic of it, except that she agreed that it was worth doing anything if it meant her father’s wellbeing. In this case, it was a bit of a relief. She knew they would not stay in Menton more than a few months.

This was, she felt, why she was so alone. Her family never stayed anywhere long enough for her to meet anyone her age, much less make friends. Her only real friends in the world were Lucie and James Herondale, and only because, Cordelia knew, Will and Tessa Herondale had always worked very hard to make sure that their children saw the younger Carstairs. It was still a rare treat to see them, as the Herondales ran the London Institute, and thus were usually in London, and occasionally in Idris, while Cordelia and her family were all over the map.

And here again, the Herondales came to her rescue, this time in the form of a letter her father read aloud at the breakfast table.

“’Good morning, Elias and Sona,’ – I say, how would he know what time of day we’d read it, the man is mad as a hatter—”

“We are reading it in the morning, though,” Cordelia said. Her father gave her an indulgent smile and went on.

“’It is a capital day here in London, and I hope it will be a capital day in Paris six weeks hence, when Tessa and I will celebrate our nineteenth wedding anniversary. As it is not the custom of any known culture to make a to-do out of the nineteenth wedding anniversary, we have decided to throw an enormous party.’”

“A ball!” cried Cordelia, but a worry poked at her. Would her parents attend such a thing? Her father was frowning at the letter, but possibly he was simply trying to make the words out better without his glasses.

“It’s not a ball,” said Alastair, who had stopped halfway down the stairway to listen.

“’A ball, if you will,’” her father read on. “Well done, Cordelia.”

Cordelia stuck out her tongue at Alastair.

“’We would love if you and your darling children would join us…if you would do us the pleasure of responding…,’ et cetera, et cetera…” Her father scanned the letter. “And then it has the date and the address and all that.”

“It started out strong, but it ended in something of an anticlimax,” Alastair said.

“Can we go?” Cordelia said eagerly. “Can we please? I would so like to see Lucie and James. And maybe I’d meet some of the people Lucie talks about in her letters!”

“I would like to see anyone at all other than you lot,” said Alastair mildly. “No offense intended.”

“Alastair!” Sona scolded, but Cordelia was not about to let Alastair distract from the main point. She redoubled her efforts in the direction of her father.

“Papa, can we go, please? You’ve recovered so well, surely a trip of only a few days would be possible. Don’t you want Shadowhunter society to see how well you are?”

“Hm,” her father said. He looked at her mother, who looked back. They exchanged a series of incomprehensible looks with one another.

“If you think it would be a good idea,” Sona said to Elias. Cordelia’s father gave Cordelia a long look. Cordelia tried to catch Alastair’s eye, but he’d turned away and was looking with disgust into the middle distance, a typical expression for him these days.

“I think we could manage a train trip and a few days in Paris,” her father allowed. “I do adore Paris.”

Cordelia threw her arms around him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Cordelia spent the next weeks in a state of constant dread. She didn’t dare remind her parents of the upcoming trip, lest they remember that they had intended to cancel and not attend after all. It had happened before, but never before for an event in which Cordelia had a strong investment.

But when the event was a few days away, her father brought up the timetable of the Calais-Méditerrannée Express train at breakfast. Tickets were bought, bags packed, and still Cordelia could barely believe it when she found herself the evening before the party, pulling into the Gare du Nord in an elegant blue train car, clutching her hands in her lap in anticipation: Paris, at last she was in Paris! She would see her future parabatai, and her brother, and the cream of Shadowhunter society, and she would do so in Paris.

The next day found her gazing into the full-length mirror in their rooms at the Hôtel Continental on the Rue de Rivoli and wondering that she was even the same girl who had been miserably pining away a few days before. Her mother had helped her select her dress, a frothy lemon confection of lace and silk. She wasn’t entirely sure it suited her, but it was very elegant.

Even Alastair regarded her with something in the neighborhood of admiration when he came in to fetch his gloves. “You look surprisingly mature,” he told her. Cordelia thought that was probably equivalent to a full swoon, for Alastair. For his part, he was clearly aiming at “mature” as well, having put on a brown sack coat with only one of its buttons buttoned, and having dared to apply a dab of pomade to his black hair, which, Cordelia had to admit, did make it shine compellingly.

“You look like you’ll be trying to impress someone at the party,” Cordelia teased him. “Anyone in particular?”

“Everyone,” Alastair sniffed. “Everyone that is anyone.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes.

Her father was in high spirits as they entered the carriage a short time later, joking and laughing. Her mother was quiet, watching her husband with a smile and a considering expression, and that is how they were for the entire ride to the Paris Institute.

She had been practicing her French, and when the imposing figure of Madame Bellefleur greeted them at the Institute door with a paragraph of rapid-fire enthusiasm and questions, she understood them: welcome, how was their journey, isn’t it frightfully chilly tonight. She began to think of a reply, and found that her entire speaking ability in the French language had departed her brain in exactly that moment.

Her father’s French was fluid and expert, and Cordelia felt a little rush of pride as he said, “Madame Bellefleur, dear! You are looking as lovely as ever, Odile. But what has become of you, that you’ve fallen so far to be working the door?”

Madame Bellefleur laughed, a hearty chuckle that made Cordelia like her immediately. “I sent the maid off to enjoy herself. I like answering the door, Elias — it may be the Herondales’ party, but it’s my Institute.”

Inside, Cordelia slipped away from her parents as soon as it was feasible and went to look for her friends. It took her all of five minutes to become hopelessly lost. Unlike any Institute she had been in before, this one was laid out as a labyrinthine series of interconnected salons. Each looked much like the last, and was crowded with adults, none of whom Cordelia knew, and most of whom were speaking in rapid French. She had not spotted a single Herondale, and the clatter and chatter of the party guests was beginning to make her feel less like a young sophisticate at the ball and more like a little girl who had lost her mother at the market.

Out of nowhere came a whirlwind of petticoats, which turned out happily to be Lucie Herondale, throwing herself into Cordelia’s arms with great force and a squeal of delight. “Cordelia, Cordelia, you must come, Christopher is going to teach us how to eat fire!”

“I’m sorry?” Cordelia said politely, but Lucie was already pulling her toward the door to the next salon. “Who is Christopher?”

“Christopher Lightwood, of course. My cousin. He saw a man eating fire in Covent Garden and he said he’d worked out how to do it. He’s very scientific, Christopher.” Lucie’s progress was stopped short, and Cordelia looked up to see a tall, slender older girl, with dark hair braided atop her head and a striking look. She was wearing a lacy blue dress without much enthusiasm. She raised her eyebrows and stared Lucie down. “And this is his sister Anna,” Lucie said, as though she’d planned the encounter.

“Christopher will not be eating any fire,” said Anna, “or indeed anything other than the canapes tonight.”

Lucie said, “Anna, this is Cordelia Carstairs; she’s going to be my parabatai.” Cordelia felt a rush of affection for her friend—she felt so alone so much of the time, but she wasn’t, not really. She was going to have a parabatai; neither she nor Lucie would ever fully be alone again. Or that’s how she had come to understand it would feel.

Anna, however, merely arched an eyebrow. “Not if Christopher burns the Institute down, she won’t.” She turned her piercing gaze onto Cordelia. “Carstairs?” she said curiously. “What Carstairs?”

Cordelia knew what that was about. She gave Anna a smile. “Jem Carstairs is my second cousin. I only know him a very little bit, unfortunately.” Jem, who had been Lucie’s father’s parabatai, had a long and tragic story that ended with his having become a Silent Brother. He was Brother Zachariah now.

Would he be here? It was strange to imagine among the sparkling, laughing conversation, the clinking of glasses, a parchment-robed silent figure drifting about. But why wouldn’t he be? Lucie spoke of him all the time. Cordelia felt a little frisson of nerve at the thought of meeting him again—eagerness but also worry.

“Any Carstairs is welcome,” Anna smiled back airily. “And obviously any parabatai of Lucie’s is essentially a member of the family. Speaking of which.” She turned back to Lucie. “Don’t encourage Christopher, Lucie. You know how he is.”

“It wasn’t my idea!” Lucie protested. “It’s Matthew who set him on it. You know how he is.”

“I don’t,” said Cordelia mildly.

Lucie gave her a look of wide-eyed horror. “Oh, dear, what kind of host am I? Here is my best friend in the world, and I haven’t even introduced you to everyone! Anna, we must go.” She reached for Cordelia’s hand again.

“It was lovely to meet you,” Cordelia said to Anna.

Anna tipped her glass in Cordelia’s direction with a small smile. “Likewise.”

“All right,” Lucie narrated as she pulled Cordelia into yet another salon. “Matthew is Matthew Fairchild, he’s the consul’s son but don’t worry, he’s all right and not a bit stuck-up about it, and anyway Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Henry ran the London Institute when my Papa was young—he lived there, you know—and they’re over there, actually, hullo Aunt Charlotte!” Lucie waved a hand madly.

Cordelia looked over and quickly spotted Charlotte Fairchild—even someone as socially deprived as she was recognized the Consul—who was in the middle of saying something very serious to a group of equally serious-looking people, and didn’t notice Lucie’s wave. It was funny; Charlotte was tiny, bird-like, and towered over by the men around her, but she had a presence that dominated the room regardless. It was an admirable way to be, Cordelia thought.

Next to Charlotte was a red-headed man in a Bath chair, who did see Lucie wave, and waved back madly himself with a grin. Henry Fairchild. He was too far away for them to speak, but Lucie pointed at Cordelia and raised her eyebrows. Henry raised his hands and exclaimed in pleasure, and Cordelia waved too, a little less madly than the others.

“Is that Matthew with them?” Cordelia said. “The tallish one with his father’s hair?”

Lucie snorted. “Oh no! Matthew would be so offended. That’s his older brother Charles. He’s, well….”

“What?” said Cordelia.

“He’s a little dull.” Lucie had the good manners to look ashamed at her admission. “He’s very interested in politics and Shadowhunter business and all that, and he treats us all like children.”

“We are children.”

“Yes, so is he!” Lucie said impatiently. “But you wouldn’t know it from the way he acts.” She sighed. “He’s an all right sort, though. Next salon!”

With rapid speed Lucie took her through the remainder of the people Lucie considered it important for Cordelia to know. Her Aunt Cecily and her Uncle Gabriel—Gabriel also turned out to be among the group surrounding Charlotte—who were Anna and Christopher’s parents. Her Aunt Sophie, who had worked at the Institute as a mundane and then Ascended and married Gabriel’s brother Gideon.

Gideon, Lucie explained, was not here, because Thomas—oh, it was a shame that Cordelia was not going to meet Thomas, and also Thomas would never have allowed Christopher to get within a mile of fire to eat it, if he had anything to say about it, but anyway Thomas had broken his leg and Gideon had stayed home with him.

“Also there are the older girls,” Lucie said darkly. “Barbara and Eugenia. But they’re not much like us. They’re not even here; they had something else tonight. Can you believe it?”

Cordelia wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to believe it or not believe it, having never met either girl, so she only shook her head understandingly.

“Lucie!” A woman with heaps of curly scarlet hair was advancing on them at speed. “I need someone to help me put out the silver. Congratulations, girl, you’re hired.”

“Bridget,” Lucie protested. “Bridget was my nursemaid, when I was young enough to have a nursemaid,” she explained to Cordelia.

“And now your repayment of my kindness to you continues,” Bridget said sharply, “with the putting out of the silver. Come along.”

“I can help,” offered Cordelia.

Bridget looked offended. “I’ll not have a guest doing work at a party. This one here is hosting the thing.” She dragged off Lucie, who gave Cordelia a beseeching look of apology as she vanished into the crowd.

This left Cordelia back to meandering a bit aimlessly. Perhaps, she thought, she would go back and speak more with Anna, who had been so kind. Perhaps she would seek out her own family and see how they were making out.

Where were her family, though? After a few minutes’ wandering she spotted her mother, who seemed to be unusually in her element, animatedly telling some story to a captivated audience. But she couldn’t find her father, or Alastair, anywhere. It was a large party, surely, but she would have expected her father to be with her mother, or if not, captivating his own audience. Cordelia had been able to tell that he was the second-most excited to go to the party after herself. So where was he?

Perhaps, she thought, he had slipped away to the library. She wanted to get a look at the Institute’s library herself, anyway. She managed enough French to ask directions from one of the waitstaff. It was down an iron spiral staircase, and Cordelia allowed herself to feel like a princess descending a tower.

The library had a tremendously high ceiling, which gave it an airy feel, but on the ground it was crowded with ancient, heavy oaken bookshelves, all of which were piled so densely with books that they were bent over by the weight, and it was astonishing that they had not already collapsed. Cordelia loved the place immediately. It was crumbling, in the most beautiful way possible. The light was warm and orange, and dust motes floated in it. It smelled pleasantly of must and old paper, and here and there were chairs of cracked, heavily aged and stained red leather.

Down at the other end of the room there was indeed a figure seated on the windowsill, curled up with a book, but it was obviously not her father. As she got closer, the dark-haired figure raised its head to peer at her, and she realized: it was James Herondale.

Part 2

“Hello,” said James Herondale. He peered up at Cordelia owlishly, as though he’d just come out of a reverie and wasn’t quite returned to the fully waking world.

“By the Angel, I’m awfully sorry.” Cordelia couldn’t help feeling she had interrupted something. She had met James before, of course—Will Herondale had been nothing if not diligent about making sure that his children and the Carstairs children knew one another—but she would not have described him as a friend, necessarily. He was a bit unknowable, in his odd way.

“No need to apologize,” James said mildly, “it’s me who’s skiving off this party to read.” He sat up rather suddenly, as if he’d only just realized he had been splayed casually across the windowsill and he should seek some kind of propriety.

“Most people don’t skive off parties,” Cordelia said, amused. “It’s usually lessons and chores, that sort of thing. Do you not like parties?”

“I like parties just fine,” James said, a bit defensively.

Cordelia crossed her arms and said sternly, “Well, I am in the library because I wanted to see the Paris Institute library, but also because almost the whole party are strangers to me. But they’re your friends, aren’t they? Wouldn’t you want to be with your friends? Matthew, and Thomas and the rest?”

James gave Cordelia a long look. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. “They are my friends, I suppose, but really they’re more like relatives. I’ve always felt out of place among them.”

The thought of James being out of place anywhere struck Cordelia as funny. Compared to herself, he was self-assured, charismatic, effortlessly interesting. Compared to her awkward discomfort inside her own body, he was graceful and strikingly handsome—

Good Lord, Cordelia thought, where had that come from?

It was true, though. Among the pillars and medieval arches of the library he looked as at home as a marble statue, an oil painting of a classical youth at study. How could someone who matched his environment so perfectly be uncomfortable?

“I always feel out of place too,” she offered. “But I thought it was just because my family is always traveling so much. I’ve never stayed in one place long enough to make friends.” She looked down at the ground. “Maybe it’s more complicated than that.”

James said, “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Cordelia gave a little laugh. “Well, yes. We are. But how often do we see each other? Once a year, maybe twice, if we’re lucky?”

He shrugged. “I don’t see most of the people at this party more than that, anyway. We’re always in London and they’re usually in Idris. Although we’re meant to go to Idris this summer, so perhaps I’ll see them a bit more. And of course, we’ll all be at the Academy this fall.” He sighed. “Maybe I’ll start to think of them as real friends at some point. I just feel so different than them. Like…like everyone else is looking out at the world, at other people, but I am always looking inward, instead.”

Since to Cordelia James appeared to glow from within slightly, this struck her as an odd facet of his personality, but she supposed that the shy and retiring came in all shapes and sizes. “‘All man’s miseries derive from not being able to sit in a quiet room alone,’” she quoted. “My father always says that.”

“Your father sounds very wise,” said James.

“Actually,” said Cordelia, “I think Blaise Pascal said that, and my father was only quoting him. You’d get along with my father,” she went on, surprised to find herself saying it out loud. But it was true; both her father and James had the same sense of the world being a bit too much for them, of preferring solitude, of seeking refuge in books. “I should go find him,” she said. “Again, I’m so sorry for interrupting your reading.”

James put the book down on the side table next to the window. “Again, please don’t apologize, I’m always happy for the opportunity to talk with you.” Cordelia found herself blushing, a bit, but James didn’t appear to notice. He stood up and said, smiling, “I shall escort you in your endeavor.”

On the way out of the library they fell silent, and Cordelia began to feel a bit awkward. It was usually so easy to speak with James, and yet she was unaccountably tongue-tied. Finally, desperate for a conversational gambit, she blurted, “Did you know that the original Paris Institute library burned down in 1574 when someone opened a Pyxis containing a Dragonidae demon?”

James raised his eyebrows. “I did not know that, Miss Carstairs,” he said, and Cordelia burst into giggles.

The smile was wiped quickly off her face, however, by the arrival of Alastair, who looked grim. “There you are,” he said, but he sounded more relieved than angry. He had a tired look in his eyes. “Father’s not well,” he said. “He’s asking for you.”

“Oh!” said Cordelia. She felt a brief, uncharitable flash of annoyance — her father’s sickness had spoiled so many parties, even Cordelia’s first rune-day. She turned to James. “I should go to him.”

“Of course,” said James. “I’m so sorry to hear he’s not well.”

“There’s an old monk’s chamber down that hall,” Alastair said, gesturing. “Father said he wanted to be someplace cool and dark.” He shook his head, agitated. “Sorry, Cordelia.”

Cordelia wasn’t sure what he meant—perhaps that it was usually her that Elias asked for when he wasn’t well, and not Alastair? She hoped it didn’t hurt Alastair’s feelings. She assumed it was because Elias believed girls made better nurses than boys, though she wasn’t sure that was true.

She left James and her brother there, looking askance at one another, and went down the hall until she found a short little heavy wooden door set in the wall. It swung open at her tentative push, and inside she found only a bit of dim light and a sparsely furnished room, with a small platform bed in the corner on which her father sat, his arm over his eyes.

“Papa,” she said, “I’m here.”

He groaned. “Cordelia, my love. It came on so suddenly.”

Cordelia felt a wash of guilt at having resented her father. “I know. I’m here, Papa.”

She went over to the bed and sat down next to him. The room was suffused with the strong smell, herbaceous and strongly bitter, that she associated with his episodes—the medicine that the Silent Brothers gave him to keep his health under control, she assumed.

“I’m sorry to ruin your party, Cordelia,” her father said after a moment. His voice was throaty, his words slow, as though it pained him to speak.

“No,” said Cordelia gently. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well. I know you had looked forward to the party as well.”

He looked up from his arm and gazed at her fondly. “I already feel better now that you’re here.” He reached out and took her small hand in his larger one. “You’ve always been my best charm for getting well.”

Cordelia rubbed his hand anxiously. “What can I do, Papa? Is there anything you need?” She glanced around the room, looking for anything that might be helpful. Her eye fell on one of the room’s few decorations, a small shelf with a selection of cloth and leather-bound books arranged haphazardly across it. “I could read to you,” she said. That was what she would want if she were feeling ill, after all. To be read to would be the greatest act of love she could receive, so it only made sense to offer it here.

“Yes, that would be very nice.” Her father closed his eyes and smiled, as if in anticipation.

Cordelia went to examine the shelf. Doubtfully she said, “Well, in English we have either the 1817 classic How to Avoid Werewolves—”

“You mean, socially?”

“I’m not sure,” said Cordelia. “Your other option is the classic travelogue of the Shadowhunter Hezekiah Featherstone, Demons With Whom I Have Had Relationships.”

“Should you really be reading that second one?” her father rumbled.

“Papa!” said Cordelia, scandalized. “I don’t think they are romantic relationships.”

“Well then,” said Elias, settling back on the bed, and Cordelia thought he did already sound like he was feeling a bit better, “surprise me.”

James thought, it wasn’t Cordelia’s fault that he had been left alone with her older brother. It was only an unfortunate side-effect of the situation.

Though only a couple of years apart in age, James had always thought of Alastair as impossibly older than him, and Alastair, for his part, had treated James as impossibly younger. James supposed this was a natural result of being an older sibling. Certainly he could not imagine taking anyone fully seriously who was only his little sister’s age. In this circumstance, however, it left him unsure what to say to Alastair, or whether to wait for Alastair to speak, or whether to simply bolt from the room at top speed and assume Alastair was too slow to catch him.

Alastair ended the mystery by saying, in an odd tone, “My apologies for all this. My father is often unwell.”

“It’s all right,” James said, feeling strange to be reassuring an older boy. Tentatively he said, “Your father is a hero, after all.”

“What?” said Alastair, thrown off guard.

“Your father,” James said. “He killed the demon Yanluo.”

“Not by himself,” said Alastair.

“No,” said James, “but still. My father says an experience like that can leave scars. It’s a kind of sacrifice that heroes make, taking those scars so others don’t have to.”

He had meant it kindly, but was dismayed by the way Alastair’s face shut down. He became a blank, and when he looked at James, it was clear that he had ceased to regard James as being present in the room, or indeed, existing at all. “Quite,” he said. Without further comment he headed down the hallway toward the library..

“I’ll see you at the Academy,” James offered, one final try. “This fall. I’ll be starting.”

Alastair turned back, and in the same oddly neutral tone, he said, “That’s right. I suppose you will.”

After Alastair departed, James stayed where he was for a while, alone in the narrow, whitewashed corridor of the Institute. There was a party shaking the very rafters of the building, and yet here there was only silence. James thought of Cordelia, comforting her ill father, of Alastair stomping off for the sake of stomping off, obviously with no destination in mind.

His father had always made such an effort to get the two families together, the Herondales and the Carstairs. He had told so many stories about them, and was always encouraging their spending time together. And James had always been fond of the Carstairs, especially Cordelia. But now he thought, it’s odd, really, how little I know them as people.

He thought of the cousins, the parents’ friends, the Enclave members celebrating above. Other than his own family, he knew so little about any of them as people. And while he felt safe here, in the quiet, in the dark, he could tell that the world would not let him remain there for much longer. He would be out in the world, and he would need friends, and family, to help get him through.

Perhaps at the Academy, this fall.

#flash fiction #chain of gold #tsc #shadowhunters #the shadowhunter chronicles #.cog #cog2 #tlh #cassandra jean #cassandra clare

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monkey-network · 3 years

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Good Stuff: Best of 2020

I don’t need to say much about how this year sucked. What matters is that if you’re reading this, congrats because you made it through and you’ll know that animation in 2020 has certainly made its marks as much this year as it did the last. Effort was still made to provide some of the best entertainment imaginable, and I’m here to provide the TOP TEN BEST entertainment I’ve experienced and loved this year. With that said, let’s get to it…

10. Sonic Rebuilt

I’ll admit, I don’t like the Sonic Movie. It was not a good film to me & while I’m holding out for the sequel, I genuinely never want to see it again. But like Biden to Trump, the people behind Shrek Retold gave us a reanimated telling of the Sonic 1996 OVA. Like Shrek Retold, it offers a compelling new light to the OVA and while the original is much cleaner, and it’s not the most hype thing to come from Sonic overall, the imaginative cauldron of artists that put into this makes it far more rewatchable.

9. Central Park

I knew after watching Bob’s Burgers that creator Loren Bouchard would eventually make a musical cartoon and I’m glad I was right. Central Park is a first for me where it’s an animated musical that isn’t a film or only occasional like Steven Universe or Adventure Time and while it isn’t the best plotwise, the numbers themselves were heartfelt and sometimes catchy. There’s a struggle in being episodic and serialized, and it’s a slow burn to connect with the characters, but this was admirable in its experimentation and I’m interested in the direction season two will go.

8. Interspecies Reviewers

The first horny anime I can safely say was never an off-putting or one-note gag fest; that’s gotta count for something. The momentum of this series never truly dies and even when there were a couple times where I just wasn’t feeling it, they pull me back with something ten-fold entertaining. Fresh variety is what I can describe this series at its best, it knew how to keep things going and growing even when it’s otherwise formulaic. All the while, this series never felt tasteless; it really felt structured and gallantly clear-minded in what it wants to show. Plus, it has Crimveal who next to Steven Universe is the best boy of 2020. Of course this show ain’t for everyone but my god, it does so much right for me upon most ecchi stuff.

7. Primal

I wanna believe this was what Genndy Tartakovsky always wanted to make after Samurai Jack ended (well, the 2nd time). This show really exhibits his many techniques in direction, like you can tell this is his work if you’ve seen his other shows. Primal always feels like the culmination of all that’s he towards as a man of animation. Even with the roars and the harsh sounds of violence, this is the only cartoon that never says anything but conveys everything so vibrantly. This admittedly isn’t my favorite piece from Genndy, but it definitely made it’s way to the top three.

6. Team Fabulous 2 Reanimated/Suponjibobu Anime

We got a tie here because these I especially felt brought people together. Suponjibobu brought people together to celebrate Spongebob Squarepants like never before, making it as legendary this year as Mr. Krabs Overdoses on Ketamine. A beginning to a series long in the making and can hopefully go for more as animation on Youtube has certainly delivered.

The Team Fabulous 2 Collab was where a community came together to honor the creator to one of the most recognized fanworks for a game that has stood the test of time. Like Sonic Rebuilt, it’ll never replace the original but god damn it’s like the stars aligned, especially after we were dealt with another loss this year, where we could appreciate TF2 for the culturally powerful game that it is.

5. Crash Bandicoot, It’s About Time

I’ll say again but this game feels like a dream. A good, fresh looking, fun to play Crash Bandicoot game that feels like the gamiest game this year after all the discourse surrounding Last of Us 2 and plenty other shit surrounding the game industry, Nintendo included. Like, I just gotta appreciate this. It’s by no means the greatest Crash game, the completion journey is horrifying, but my god it was a great game to jump into again and again. It feels like a testament to what Crash can be in the modern era and I certainly want more of it. Bugsnax is objectively game of the year if not Hades, but Crash 4 is my personal GOTY.

4. Glitch Techs

It’s the gamer equivalent to Men in Black, that’s enough of a seller. From the people behind Fanboy & Chum Chum, it’s genius well-animated, realized, and not immediately dated. It’s a mind-boggling crime Nickelodeon isn’t treating this show better because it deserves recognition as an innovative idea. It does a lot right and it’s a worthwhile action series up there with Rise of the TMNT that’s worth the risk to give it more of an audience as opposed to just thinking it’ll be the next Spongebob. If it’s future is anything, I enjoyed this series and there’s nothing like it.

3. Wolfwalkers

This was an animated film with the most personality to me in a long while, with the most memorable look to it, compelling leads, and animation that really made its mark in the moments that mattered. I’ll agree with other reviewers that, outside Mebh who is the greatest and besterest girl of 2020, it's a simple story but it’s effectively simple. Beside the 3rd act which was noticeably long, the moments flow one after another fluently and you really get the struggle between two immediate friends that are shackled with responsibilities their parents didn’t want to put on them. Like Netflix’s Klaus, it all comes together like a beautifully seasonal tapestry. Worth watching and supporting is the best I can tell you for this film.

2. Elinor Wonders Why

This is my most personal of personal choice for the list; like True and the Rainbow Kingdom, it’s the one that helped pick me up after being in a slump for most of this year. I’ve always had an interest in understanding the fundamentals of nature, and this show encourages thinking about the wonders of science, where something as simple as a feather can make you wonder of its many shapes, abilities, and functionality. It appealed to me in the best way that it does more than represents your existence but deep down represents why you are the way you are with your interests and the flexibility of your outlook. I wish it was number one but it did enough to make the top of this list.

1. Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken

I mean what else could be number one? This is the most ‘anime’ anime I have ever seen. The story, characters, and world building are at their most realized. I can’t imagine anyone other than Science Saru, with the based Yuasa, animating this with the style it has. Every episode is an engaging puzzle to every 4th episode where it all culminates with the in-universe final product of our Eizouken trio. It’s so compellingly meta it hurts as I could gush about every single detail that went into this series both in universe and the real behind the scenes. But what makes this the greatest is how nothing feels contrived, everything in this anime exists for something and the obstacles our characters face are things you’d definitely face in you were in there shoes. It’s energy is what really carried me through this year and I can safely say this is one of my all time favorites. And it really says don’t give up believing and working for better things to come, because if art like this can be made nearly flawlessly, it’s always worth carrying on to see something just as great if not greater. That’s why this is a masterpiece to me...

Then again...

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popwasabi · 3 years

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“End of Evangelion” and the tempting nature of oblivion

(TW: Suicide, Self-harm, Pain, Depression, Mental Health, Death)

“End of Evangelion” is a perplexing movie to say the least.

Not that the original classic anime “Neon Genesis Evangelion” series ends on exactly the most conclusive note itself, but “End” takes everything that transpired in the series and literally destroys it.

The films ends with Earth experiencing the long foreshadowed Third Impact and all of the planet returning to the primordial “soup,” as fans call it, with its main protagonist Shinji Ikari and comrade Asuka Langley Soryu as the only remaining humans left. A pseudo, twisted rebeginning of Adam and Eve’s Genesis.

The film is fairly divisive among the fans to say the least. Some fans consider it a masterpiece for its nihilistic tone and mind-bending illustrations of body horror and others despised it for being too dark and confusing with no clear explanation of anything that happened in the film’s events. Hell, even the movie’s fans have a difficult time explaining what exactly happens in the narrative.

I was somewhat in the middle with it after I watched it the first time not super long ago. It was certainly abstract, and I like plenty of stories that don’t make it easy for me to understand. The animation is definitely the franchise’s best and I enjoyed the character moments between Shinji, Asuka, and Misato. But it was also, as stated before, dreadfully confusing and still to this day hard to makes heads or tails out of with its plot.

But, as with more than a few movies I have revisited this year, 2020 helped me contextualize one aspect I think the story is concretely trying to get across.

(We’ll save discussion of “Rebuild” for another day...)

At my lowest points not long ago, I had this frequent vision that would crawl across my mind.

I imagined being up in the clouds on a beautiful sunny day, but I wasn’t floating or flying. I was plummeting, falling like a bird without wings at a speed that would definitely kill me once I got to the ground. But I never imagined actually hitting the Earth like a meat-bagged, human sized asteroid. I only ever imagined the falling part. The wind reaching a terminal velocity and the air rushing past my body and you know what look I had on my face?

Happiness.

I was confused a bit by why I kept imagining this moribund fall into oblivion over and over again. I wasn’t suicidal, though I certainly have had thoughts of self-harm plenty of times before and general detachment from life. But why the fuck was I so happy? I’m about to die after all!

What I have come to realize in recent years, as I’ve developed a better understanding of my mental health and what makes me tick, it wasn’t that I wanted to die so much as I wanted the freedom that comes moments before it. The feeling of finally letting go and letting fate/gravity do the rest.

Years of my life failing at various aspects of societal expectations and career obligations from not being able to get the girls I wanted to date so badly, relationships ending poorly, not quite applying myself the way I should’ve in college, and working a plethora of unfulfilling jobs since graduation made me yearn for that release. Just that feeling of saying “fuck it all” and giving in to the void.

I wanted to stop feeling out of control. The way the world is structured often feels like you are on a wild, rapid river flowing in one very stark direction but you desperately want to go the other way. You keep fighting and fighting it and realize after a while you are just swimming in place, you tire out and either float where the river wants you to go or you drown. I wanted neither of those things, I just wanted control and unfortunately part of life is accepting that a very large percentage of it is beyond your power to alter.

2020 made this feeling starkly apparent once again as we were hit with a once in a lifetime global pandemic that has killed 2.21 million people and counting. As common people struggle to find ways to handle the loss of loved ones and the fallout from economic instability those tasked with protecting us have more or less ignored the cries of needy. Hell, they’re fucking miffed that we would even have the audacity to ask for $2000 of our own fucking tax dollars to put a band-aid on the situation. Combine this with an extremely volatile two-party system and late stage capitalism, we are about as out of control as ever in terms of how much we actually can course correct our destinies in a period like this.

It is why so many irony-pilled millennials and gen z-ers are posting dank memes about meteors colliding with the earth over the course of the year. We’ve lived through two recessions, two forever wars, and now a pandemic in our lifetimes while paying off our crippling debt with slave wages and yet boomers still wonder why we are near universally depressed as a generation.

(Seriously, everybody needs a fucking therapist right now...and also to dismantle the fucking system that’s making us depressed!)

This is what I feel is the real heart of “End of Evangelion.” The movie is a lot of things, obviously, but, after the events of this year and looking back on the more depressing parts of my life, I feel this film is about the tempting nature of oblivion. Giving up when things are clearly beyond your control so you can get that sweet but twisted, fleeting sense of freedom from it all.

Director Hideaki Anno didn’t feel too entirely different about the state of life when he made this series and certainly by the time he made “End” he was in a very dark place.

So, quick history lesson, “Neon Genesis Evangelion” debuted in 1994 and quickly became a classic among fans of anime and the giant mech vs monster genre. Critics loved it for its exploration of mental health and depression and of course plenty enjoyed the hell out of it for its giant monster/robot escapism as well. Fast forward to the conclusion of the series, critics and fans especially are far more polarized. I won’t try to explain exactly what happens in the ending and frankly I don’t think anyone can, but that confusion led to quite a bit of outcry by the fans.

Hideaki Anno, the series’ director, received tons of hate mail and death threats following the series conclusion. The fans hated how abstract it was, how it had an undecisive ending and chose to dive into the mind of Shinji instead of conclusively describing the events of the Third Impact with plenty going as far as to say he had “ruined” his own series for them. This made him unfortunately quite depressed himself over the ending he felt creatively fairly content with.

(I think it should be clear who Shinji is mostly likely a stand-in for in this anime...)

The fan reaction was toxic to say the least and all too familiar for many creatives who didn’t adequately satisfy the insatiable vapid needs of their fandom. Anno did not take this well to put it lightly. A man who was known as a delinquent in high school and expelled from the Osaka University of Arts much earlier in his life, and dealt plenty with his own bouts of depression, Anno had plenty of his own demons to sort out and quite clearly wanted to explore that mental state in “Neon Genesis Evangelion.”

I’ll be honest and say that I myself was not fond of the ending either when I watched it the first time as a freshman in college, and even went as far as to describe it as everything that was wrong with anime to friends in the years that followed for a while. I felt it was confusing and “fake deep,” existential for no reason other than because it just wanted to and people were “dumb” if they liked it.

When I rewatched it again as a much older adult when it came on Netflix last year, I found it much more fascinating and interesting. A sort of abstract introspective into the mind of a troubled teenager, who I had written off many years prior as a “whiny baby.” Though I wouldn’t say I completely understand it still, I get it much more now and I think it has a lot to say about depression and mental health.

Unfortunately, most fans did not have that reaction back then and as a result Anno made his true conclusion “End of Evangelion” as a response to that negativity.

(You’re welcome, nerds.)

As mentioned before, “End of Evangelion” is an extremely nihilistic film that seems to one up each dark moment as you traverse its spiraling narrative. It’s a film where things never get better. If you go into it blind expecting that big last minute heroic save the day moment, it’s always teased and never comes. Things just end very badly for everyone. Nobody gets a “happy ending.”

While the ending to the original series is strange for sure, it does end on a light note that can be interpreted in a number of different ways but ultimately positive. With the way fans reacted to it Anno decided to write a big “fuck you” to them by, in many ways, smashing his toys so no one could play with them again. He even went as far as to splice in the actual hate mail he received into the movie to quite clearly show to the audience, as their favorite characters met their grissly ends, that this was their fault.

(“Gee, I wonder what that was all about.” ~ a fan walking out of the theater back in 1997.)

In a way though, Anno created something strangely beautiful from that reaction. “End of Evangelion” is about giving up in some ways and accepting our inevitable doom. There are no easy answers, no workable solutions to achieve a happy ending because sometimes in life there isn’t one. Despite last ditch efforts by Misato, Shinji, and the crew of NERV the world still ends through the Third Impact. But tonally it’s not quite pessimistic; it’s actually positive, in a very twisted sense of course.

Set to the song “Komm Susser Tod” by ARIANNE, the film’s apocalypse can almost be described as a celebration. With people “popping” and turning into the primordial soup they all largely have smiles on their faces as they kind of get what they want whether it’s a desire to reunite with loved ones, to be with people they have crushes on, or happiness that they have sought for so long in the embrace of others. Everyone’s depressed! But now they are happy because it’s finally all over, they don’t have to give a shit anymore.

As the planet lights up like a Christmas tree, there are images of suicide and death that rapidly cross the screen in the form of the Angel’s final transformation but again, nobody is truly sad about it. They all have some kind of twisted smile or joy that they get from it. It’s a shocking film, if you’re not already prepared for what’s going to happen, and provocative to say the least.

youtube

(Can’t decide if I recommend watching this high or not...)

I had no idea what any of it meant at the time when I watched it several years ago (I watched it well after I had seen the original series), and to be fair there are many ways fans have interpreted what exactly took place in the film and have debated endlessly on its meaning for decades now. But at least in my interpretation, after everything we’ve been through this year, “End of Evangelion” to me is about the sweet release of not giving a fuck anymore.

Whether it’s about Anno feeling that way about his own life or the expectations of his fans or both, the film quite clearly doesn’t care about what people may or may not have wanted for Shinji and the NGE characters and is perfectly fine with the way it all comes “tumbling down.”

(He just wants to be with his boyfriend, guys.)

This past July 4th, city fireworks shows were prohibited in my area because they wanted to limit mass gatherings due to COVID but this didn’t stop people from buying plenty of their own to fire off. In what amounted to a collective “fuck you” to everything and 2020, beginning pretty much exactly at dusk people started firing off their at home lightshows like they were mortar gunners in World War I and did not let up until well past midnight. The entire Southern California night sky was lit up not to unlike the thousands of crosses that filled the screen during the Third Impact of “End of Evangelion” and though it could certainly be interpreted as a moment of people patriotically going “Yea, America!” that night, my head canon was much different. It felt like tens of thousands of people across the region just saying “Fuck it” into the night sky at everything; COVID, our horrendous government, police violence, pending World Wars, environmental disaster, and our collective impending doom from it all.

As these fireworks hit their zenith around 9pm I broke out my phone and started playing “Komm Susser Tod” from the movie and it felt perfect. Everyone just wanted to feel that freedom in the moment, that freedom of not giving a damn anymore. To be removed from expectations, from control, from hatred, from pain and it was kind of beautiful in a sick way.

And that’s what “End of Evangelion” feels like to me now; kind of beautiful in a sick way.

(Not saying the LA skyline looked like this exactly but it felt like it haha...)

There are still many ways to interpret Hideaki Anno’s cult classic, and it’s part of its charm but I think the take away fans should have is definitely not that suicide is ok but that we get it. We understand why people have those feelings and why it feels freeing to desire the void and oblivion. It’s a pity that the series most toxic fans didn’t get that clue through the original finale but Anno, not a person who likes being shoved around, clearly created perhaps the most twistedly beautiful “fuck you” to that in anime history.

As we enter 2021 all I can say is it’s ok to feel like this, it’s ok to desire freedom from the relentless gloom and doom of the world and people’s prying expectations of what they think you “should” be. No one blames you. At the end of the day, we’re all just trying to survive the apocalypse we have zero control over, so the least we can do is be a bit nicer and considerate of one another.

At least it’ll make the Third Impact more pleasant whenever it eventually comes...

Happy New Year, everyone!

Congratulations on surviving 2020! Have fun in 2021...

#neon genesis evangelion #end of evangelion #evangelion #hideaki anno #anime #japan #90s #vintage anime #2020 #apocalypse #covid #mental health #depression #sadness #horror #shinji #covid19 #quarantine

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natandwandaseries · 3 years

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Yelena

Hi everyone, as promised when I reach 50,000 hits! We get to see a different side of Yelena, a bit softer since we hear her inner thoughts. I hope you enjoy! (Also, unlike the other mini fics I post on here, this one is canon and exists within the series!) _____________________________________________________________

I am barely old enough to tie my shoes, I when I meet Natasha. She walks in first, leading a group of young girls like her- wet and frozen. But she holds her head high and commands the room, despite barely being up to the guards’ waist. It hadn’t been my first time seeing her, as I look down from my hiding spot on the stairs, but it is my first time noticing her. The next day, during our free hour, I seek her out. She is in the courtyard, alone. We are never alone here, so this being the case is odd. It took a great deal of effort on my side to get out here without Fredrik, one of the guards for the younger girls, to notice me. “Hello,” she greets me without taking attention off her task, “Yelena, correct?” She turns around now, her eyes bright and face kind. Kindness, such a rarity. “Yes,” “I am Natalia,” She sets down the stick in her hand, “You were watching last night, when we came home.” “I heard some of the older girls, this is when they start to have less of us.” “The trick is to take off your coat and keep your hands cupped.” She sits down on the grass, stick in hand once more. I walk over, looking down at her project. They are swirling lines, graceful, looking like art. “It is cursive English. I am practicing,” She explains. “No one else would tell me about the water,” “Everyone else wants you dead,” She states matter-of-factly. No deception or tricks. “You don’t?” I do not yet understand the permanence of death, only that it was undesirable, worse than even the Red Room. “No.” She wipes the sand from her palms, and then leans back to look up at the sky. “Why?” “I don’t want any of them to die. I can’t save everyone, but I’ll die trying.” Her mouth form into a hard line, and to most, it would cute, seeing a little girl seem so resolute. But that same look of determination, years later, would cause men to scream in fear. “You talk like an adult,” She always spoke as though she lived a thousand lifetimes. I would joke later on that she was born serious. Though sometimes, later on, she would point out clouds in the sky that look like different animals, or weapons. And on rare occasions, we would spin each other around as fast as we could, to fall back and look at the sky spinning above us. “See Yelena? We make the world go ‘round,” she’d joke. And then, two days after our meeting, we are in a combined class. Three different years, all together, working on letters of different alphabets. My elbow knocks over a jar of red paint, splattering across a stack of white paper, like blood on skin. Last week, Svetlana tripped and broke a plate. Madame slit her arm with a letter opener. I stare at the pile of paint in fear, unable to move or make a sound. Natalia appears at my side. She stains the arm of her shirt with paint and begins to apologize loudly. Madame walks over, since that night, she seems to always be where Natalia is, and sees the mess. “Did you knock over this paint?” “Yes, Madame,” The woman strikes like a snake- her cane striking the back of Natalia’s knees, forcing her to the ground. “Clean it up. Then you clear her up as well,” I look down and see I am stained with paint, across my stomach like a bullet wound. “Why did you do that?” I ask as Natalia washes my pinafore. “I am going to protect you, like sisters.” Familial words like that are forbidden, even saying friend will get you a warning glare. “Sisters,” I reply, watching as she wipes out the red.

I am nearly eight when I first see Natalia crack, just a little. She is angry, furious. She tries to run away, without me. I heard what everyone was saying. She made her first kill. Secretly gentle Natalia, who once hid and nursed a baby bird back to health in her courtyard. The bird still visits, and I frequently find her smiling out the window when she sees it. Or not smiling. Just happier than the flatness she normally sports. But in front of me now, she dances with glass in her shoes. A morbid part of me thinks of Cinderella’s glass slippers. Perhaps this is what really happened to her feet. When she finally stops, Madame breaks her cheekbone, for her pride, I think. For being unbreakable. The last time I see Natasha in the Red Room, our courtyard days are long over. Both of us have graduated and sit at a table separate from the students. The number of adult Widows has dwindled as the KGB sends us on more dangerous missions. Her spark has begun to dim. She is getting worn down, like they want. The first that burns with in her, that in explicably Natalia, should not be put out. That evening, for the first time in a long while, I slip into her bed. She moves closer, so our shoulder touch, something she doesn’t normally allow anymore. Since she turned thirteen, she has grown more and more opposed, and I don’t need to ask why. “I have a mission in America tomorrow.” “Alone?” She nods in the dark. “Don’t come back,” I request, daring to speak the words. She stiffens beside me. “Don’t say silly things, Yelena. We are not children.” “They are going to kill you.” “It is what I was made for.” “No. You were made for better things. If you get the opportunity, don’t come back.” “There is only one way I don’t,” she whispers, “I will bring you back sweets, Little Sister. They’ll be hidden in the same spot as always,” Inside the rip in my mattress. It hadn’t occurred to me until now, that the reason she keeps coming back, might be for me. Except she doesn’t, and I am grateful. They tell me she is dead, but I know better. The next time I see her, it is to burn this place to the ground. In America, she has people who care for her. A best friend who takes me in, a nephew. And they welcome me in too. We celebrate Christmas together, spend time with one and other. Natasha, as she is now called, is finding herself again. That fire within her grows stronger once more, rising out of the embers that had begun to die out. After Christmas, I leave for Europe, following leads about the Red Room. There is a rumor that Ivan is still alive, that he could resurrect what Tasha and I destroyed. I have to kill him, kill him before he can find out Natasha is alive, or get anywhere near her. His prized possession. That is what he used to call her. I step out of my taxi, heading into the hotel lobby, where the once lush carpets are worn down from years of suitcase wheels and feet. A bellhop smiles at me, and a man sitting at a nearby table, drinking coffee, catches my eye. _______________________________________________________________

“Yelena?” I blink, feeling nauseous. Clint, Tasha’s American, is sitting close to me, too close. He looks almost as though he has seen a ghost. A part of me, for some reason, feels like it has been a long time since we have seen each other, though it has only been a few weeks. “You look old,” I tilt my head. He grins and squeezes my shoulder. “Where are we?” “We’re on a quinjet, we rescued you,” “Rescued?” He seems reluctant to answer. “You were being held prisoner,” I feel pressure building up in my head, the feeling of hitting a wall. “Where’s Tasha?” I get up from the cot, my legs unsteady, and pull back the curtain. Rather than seeing Natasha in the cockpit as I expected, there is a gaggle of individuals deep in discussion. A slight brunette catches my eye, blushing furiously and looking away. “Yelena, they’re friends,” “I don’t know, they not friends.” I growl. “They are my friends, Nat’s,” Clint explains, “Tony, Sam, Rhodey, Bruce, and,” “Wanda,” The girl offers, her voice timid and unsure. He looks at her with a particular tenderness that makes me inspect the girl closer. She has folded into herself, as if she is trying to disappear. “Nice to meet a member of Nat’s family. I was always curious,” “Not the time, Tony.” The American glares at the man. Though, they all seem American. “Where is Tasha?” I try again. “We’re on our way to her now. We were on a mission,” One of the men, Sam, explains. I look him up and down and give him a little smirk. The girl calls my attention again, however. She does not speak again, playing with the rings on her fingers. We touch down on the tarmac and the gangplank drops. They do not handcuff me, which seems foolish on their part. Though, I suppose I am not a prisoner. But maybe I should be, I don’t know what I have been doing since I last saw Natasha. “Hey Friday,” Tony begins, “When are Steve and Nat landing?” “They are currently in the kitchen,” I break into a sprint. There is some kind of AI wired throughout the area, and I ask for directions. The AI, whom had been referred to as Friday, provides the answers promptly. AI, something that had seemed like a distant future just days ago, or weeks, months, years. I skid to a stop in the kitchen. Her red hair shines like a beacon. “Tasha,” I breathe, my heart aching. My mind may not know how long it has been, but my soul clearly does. She spins around, along with the man she is with, gun drawn. I put my hands up, remaining passive. A piece of me fears she does not remember me, does not know who I am. But she has to, it is us. Clint and his little friend run into the room, panting. They quickly take in the scene and turn their attention to Natasha. “Nat, put down the gun,” He tries. She doesn’t take her hard gaze off of me, the gun steady. “That isn’t, it can’t be, you saw, you were,” She speaks in half sentences, her words becoming lost in her head, in her memories. Whatever happened to me, she was there for it. “Is me, Tasha,” I swear once Clint affirms who I am. She is beginning to become distressed, her hands starting to shake. I’m upsetting her. “Mom,” The girl says quietly. Mom? I whip around, looking at her. She still sounds fragile, quiet. But she called Natasha mom. “It’s her. I looked. I saw her giving you a pair of ballet slippers and sitting with Cooper as a baby.” What the hell does that mean? I saw, how would she see? Home videos, maybe? How does that ensure I am me? She comes between Natasha and I, gently taking the gun out of Natasha’s hand and putting it back in her holster. There is a quiet moment shared between the two, before she finally speaks. “Lena?” Relief, elation. Elation is the only word I can use to describe the optimistic hope that lilts up at the end of my name. “Hi Tasha,” I beam. “How are you here?” “I don’t know,” I feel pressure begin to build again, “I think it has been long time, yes? It feels like long time.” Ten years she tells me. She tries to take the blame, as she did when we were children. Whatever happened, I know it was not her fault. She had begun to panic, believing none of this is real, that I am not real. I tease gently about her pulling a gun on me again, though it is a legitimate concern. Then she properly introduces Wanda. The girl doesn’t meet my eyes, almost hiding behind her mother. Her mother. Natasha has a daughter. An adopted daughter, like how I am her adopted sister. Because that is what Natasha has always done, she takes in strays, people in need of help.

The girl. Wanda. She sits next to me on my couch, while Natasha is on her date with Steve. This couch from Pottery Barn that we bought together, after she had shown me a particular episode of Friends. Clint informed me that she does not talk a lot to anyone but Natasha, even his own children and her best friend, a fellow superhero, get few words from her. So, whenever she says anything to me, I feel particularly flattered. And the guilt for what I had done to her when I first found out about her past continues to eat me alive. Guilt is supposed to be Natasha’s specialty, but it seems as though I am taking on some of her traits. “We order takeout?” I ask the witch. She looks up from her phone, where she scrolls through social media, a new trend that I am still trying to catch up with. “Okay,” She looks back down. “You can go home,” I offer, not wanting her to feel trapped. Her lips pinch momentarily, “You stay, I order food,” She raises an eyebrow before going back to scrolling. I have no clue how I am supposed to be an aunt. Barton’s children, they refer to me as Auntie Lena, and that is definitely my familial position with Wanda. But I’m twenty-, no. I’m in my thirties. I pass a mirror on my way into the kitchen, catching a look at my face. Time has barely passed on my body, in my mind, but the world kept going while I was on pause. “Wanda,” I call, coming to a decision, “We go out,” I come back into the living room, the girl craning her neck to look at me. “Put on nice dress, we go out. Have fun.” She stares at me, considering for a moment, before nodding, hopping up from the sofa, her powers bursting. “What are we doing?” “Go to gala,” “What gala?” “I not decide yet. Put on gown and be back in twenty. I do your hair.” She returns fifteen minutes later, donning a ruby red satin gown. It looks custom made. She also holds a makeup box and a red clutch, clearly well loved. “I was supposed to wear this to a charity event in November,” she explains, sitting down at my bathroom vanity. I’m given no other explanation, and though I wait in silence for more information, unlike most people, she does not open up. I sweep her hair to the side into a side bun. She leans forward, doing her own makeup. She glances back at me every few seconds, taking her attention off her eyeshadow. “Do you want me to do your makeup?” She puts down her brush. She stands up, and I can hear the faint mechanical whir of her leg as she stands up. To anyone with unenhanced hearing, it would be silent. I don’t know how I missed it initially. I sit down on the stool and face her. Wanda’s eyes meet mine momentarily before looking away, going through her palette. “You like doing makeup?” “I used to wear it a lot,” She shrugs and continues to do her work, and then steps back to admire it. “Okay,” She picks up a handheld mirror. “Oh, you should have been one to do Tasha’s makeup for date,” Wanda blushes to the color of her dress, ducking her head. “Okay, I go change, then we leave.” When I come out of my room, wearing a dress the color of a night sky, Wanda is busy scrolling through her phone. “There is a gala at 583 Park Avenue tonight, it is for one of the mayor’s pet projects.” “We go,” She watches as I grab my beaded wallet, “I call us cab,” “Uber, Yelena. No one calls taxis anymore.” She rolls her eyes, teasing, and we head down to the lobby. We take the car to the venue, and the beautiful Greek revival is lit up by glowing pendants, the four pillars casting shadows down on us. Security stands at the front, checking everyone for a ticket. “They are sold out online,” Wanda’s bottom lip juts out. “Come on,” I grab her hand, pull her behind me as I round the corner, heading towards the back entrance of the building. “You watch and play along, da?” “Okay,” I spy a pair of busboys sharing a joint, taking a break from the mayhem of the evening. I think of the whole song and dance I had planned to get us in. Fake being locked out, fight with my boyfriend who is a staffer for the mayor and got us tickets. “Three hundred for each of you if you let us in.” The pair exchange a glance and stand up holding out their hands and opening the side door. “That was watch and learn?” Wanda laughs as we head down the hall. “Sometimes money speaks better than words,” We enter the hall and I grab us each a glass of champagne. It is not very often, or rather never, that I get to attend galas without having to kill or torture somebody. However, Wanda seems to fit right in. She wears large diamond studs, each the size of a blueberry, and this custom-made gown. However, her anxiety is visible in the way she grips her clutch, almost like a security blanket. “Is special to you?” “Hm?” She follows my eyes to her wallet. “Oh, this is the first gift Nat every bought me. It was for my sixteenth birthday.” Her face softens at the memory. “We find people to dance with, come.” She laughs as I introduce her as a foreign princess, and the man plays along, despite the obvious fact that she is her. I, on the other hand, am still harder to identify. The world news has not been plastered with my face for the past two years as it has her. I am not burned into the collective consciousness. I dance with a woman is a white cocktail dress, keeping one eye on Wanda the entire time. After two songs, the pair break apart, and I bid the woman adieu. Wanda takes an empty seat, and I next to her. “Hello,” I look at the nametag, “Mr. Abbot,” “Mrs. Pruitt,” She responds, eyes twinkling. We order more champagne, or rather Wanda does while I switch to vodka on the rocks, and take canapes and caviar off passing trays. “And then, as Tasha in middle of mission, she stop to,” “Stops to save a cat from being hit by a car,” A voice finishes. I turn around. Natasha and Steve stand behind us. Natasha looks stuck somewhere between amused and stern, while Steve is doing nothing to hide how humorous he finds the situation. “How did you two get in here?” “I pay,” I reply hotly, jutting out my chin. She moves her gaze to Wanda. “We bribed the busboys.” “I not say who we pay,” “Do you even know what this event is for?” “Dogs?” “Children?” We both say at the same time, causing a fit of laughter. My sister pinches the bridge of her nose. “Well, since you two are here, you may as well come to the after party,” She looks to Steve for agreement, who nods. “But you, Little Witch, will not be having any more champagne,” Wanda’s face, already flushed from alcohol, seems to redden even more. “Come on,” Nat leads us out the front door where a town car awaits. “We are sorry for ruining date night, I had no idea that you were going to be there,” “It was on the calendar in the kitchen, perhaps that is where your subconscious got the idea,” Natasha teases and fixes the strap on her daughters dress as we climb into the car. We pull up at the Avengers Tower, and take the elevator up to the penthouse. “There you are, and you brought company!” Tony cheers, “Good, I could use some of her expertise,” I expect him to be pointing at me, but instead he is at Wanda, “You are the expert at naming things, I have a list of baby names and need your help,” “I thought you were naming her Morgan,” Nat calls, heading over to the bar. “Middle names, Natalie!” “Did he say names, plural?” Steve asks. “Did he call you Natalie?” Natasha pours Steve a glass of whiskey and I another cup of vodka before coming around the bar with her own drink, a martini. “You snuck my underaged daughter into a gala,” She leans back next to me, watching Wanda and Tony, while Steve begins to thumb through the vinyls next to the record player. “Was either that or Chinese food again,” “Maybe try bowling next time,” “With ax throwing,” I grin. “Galas, then,” Natasha laughs. “Sorry for ruining date night,” I say earnestly. I hadn’t expected them to be there. “Oh, please,” She waves me off, “Tony already did. Pepper called us saying Tony was here at the tower, working late, and you know,” She nods to the empty bottles, “Trying to develop a special crib or something. Asked Steve and I to check in. We ran into you two while we were heading out.” “You can’t give her the middle name Una, then her name would be Morguna,” “I like the sound of that, put it on the list!” Tony cheers, while Wanda scrawls on the glass screen. “This is good life,” Steve finally selects a record, and the Beatles start to play. The first lyrics, Flew in from Miami Beach BOAC, cause Natasha to grin. “Is our song!” I cry out, tugging her out into the center of the room, kicking off my heels. She laughs as I spin her around, spilling her drink the process. Tony, Steve, and Wanda join in as we dance to the Beatles at one in the morning, I can’t imagine a life any better.

#natasha romanoff #natandwandaseries #TheNatAndWandaSeries #NatAndWandaSeriesMiniFic #yelena belova #capwidow #backstory #romanrogers #wanda maximoff #Widow and Little Widow #The Nat and Wanda Series #the red room #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic series #one shot

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