#41 days of cheer challenge

[xoxorealitygalore]

CHILL BABY (6)

Summary: Yami navigates the chaos of life while searching for peace, with Jacob by her side, encouraging her to embrace imperfection and trust the process. Together, they discover that although life may never be free from chaos, it is possible to find stillness within it, ultimately transforming both of their paths in unexpected and profound ways.

Pairing: Jacob Fatu x Afro-Asian OC

Previous: Chapter Five

April 2025

Under the dazzling lights of Las Vegas, amidst the glitz and glamour of WrestleMania Weekend, Yami found herself at the heart of the action, not as a competitor in the ring, but as a guest on The Nikki & Brie Show, recorded live from the SiriusXM Studios at the Wynn Las Vegas.

The air buzzed with anticipation as fans and superstars alike converged for the most anticipated event in sports entertainment.

Seated across from Brie and Nicole, Yami exuded a calm confidence, her presence commanding attention even in the bustling studio. When the conversation turned to her personal life, she offered a playful smile.

“I’m off the market,” she declared. “My man has made it clear I'm not going anywhere.” Her words, though lighthearted, carried the weight of genuine affection and commitment.

Though she wasn't scheduled to wrestle at WrestleMania 41, Yami's support for Jacob was unwavering. She was there to cheer him on in his singles match for the WWE United States Championship, a title he had long coveted. Her dedication to him was evident, not just in her words but in her presence, a constant source of strength and encouragement.

The interview delved deeper into Yami's journey, from her tumultuous youth to her rise in the wrestling world and her success in the beauty industry. She reflected on her "pinch me" moments, acknowledging the challenges she had overcome and the resilience that had propelled her forward. Her unrelenting attitude, a hallmark of her persona, was not just a character trait but a reflection of her life experiences.

When asked about the possibility of joining a Total Divas reboot, Yami's response was measured. She expressed interest, noting that it would depend on the direction the show took and how it aligned with her personal and professional aspirations. Her openness to the idea highlighted her adaptability and willingness to explore new avenues within the industry.

As the conversation shifted to WrestleMania Weekend, Yami shared her thoughts on some of the most talked-about matches and storylines. She expressed her support for Naomi in her match against Jade Cargill, stating, “I’m Team Naomi, that's family and you gotta stick with family.” Her loyalty to Trinity was rooted in their shared history and mutual respect, transcending the scripted rivalries of the ring.

Later that evening, Yami attended the WWE Hall of Fame ceremony at the Fontainebleau Las Vegas hotel. Seated with Trinity, Sefa, and Aphrodite, she observed the proceedings with a mixture of admiration and fatigue.

The ceremony, delayed by half an hour and lasting until nearly 1:30 AM without breaks, tested the endurance of all in attendance. Despite the late hour, Yami remained composed, her demeanor a testament to her professionalism.

Returning to her hotel room with Jacob, Yami was visibly exhausted. Jacob, ever attentive, chuckled as she collapsed onto the bed fully dressed. “I told you to skip it but no you wanted to go,” he teased, his voice laced with affection. He gently undressed her, removing her makeup and jewelry, and placed her in her bonnet, a small but intimate gesture of care. Yami, already asleep, offered a contented sigh, her trust in him evident in her peaceful slumber.

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yamirosnay MOST VALUABLE #WWEHallofFame

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The following day, WrestleMania Saturday dawned with the electrifying energy characteristic of the event. Triple H took to the stage, hyping the crowd for the monumental night ahead. The matches that followed were filled with high stakes and emotional moments. Joshua clinched the World Heavyweight Championship, celebrating with his twin brother Jon in a heartfelt embrace.

The New Day, Kingston and Woods, performed their Midnight Hour finisher on Ivar, securing the World Tag Team Championship. In a highly anticipated bout, Jade Cargill faced Trinity. The match was a showcase of strength and agility, with Trinity executing a running bulldog and a split-legged moonsault for a nearfall. However, Jade's power proved decisive as she delivered a powerbomb followed by her finishing move, Jaded, to win the match.

As the evening progressed, Jacob prepared for his match against LA Knight for the United States Championship. Yami, ever supportive, kissed him and wished him good luck, her words a source of encouragement.

The match itself was a display of athleticism and resilience. Jacob dominated much of the bout, countering Knight's moves with precision. The climax saw Knight countering a double-jump top-rope moonsault, nearly securing a pinfall. However, Jacob's determination shone through as he delivered a top-rope Samoan Drop and two double-jump top-rope moonsaults, ultimately winning the title.

In the aftermath, Haku joined Jacob in the ring to celebrate his victory. Yami, overwhelmed with pride, rushed to the gorilla position to meet him. As Jacob made his way backstage, she leaped into his arms, her voice filled with joy. “You did that shit, baby,” she exclaimed, her words a testament to her unwavering belief in him.

The night was a culmination of hard work, dedication, and the support of loved ones, marking a significant milestone in both their careers.

For Yami, WrestleMania Weekend was more than just an event; it was a celebration of her journey, her relationships, and her unyielding spirit. From the SiriusXM Studios to the Hall of Fame ceremony, and finally to the ring where Jacob secured the United States Championship, she stood as a testament to resilience, loyalty, and the power of love.

yamirosnay 20m

The beat of the music pulsed through the walls, vibrating the air around the VIP section of the club. The celebration was in full swing. Bottles popped. Cameras flashed. The bass dropped like thunder behind the laughter and shouting, as friends and family toasted Jacob’s massive victory, he was now the United States Champion.

Yet amid all the noise, Yami only had eyes for Jacob. He, too, seemed hyper-focused despite the sensory overload, watching her with a gaze that hadn’t wavered all night.

She stood there glowing in a metallic gold mini-dress, her skin kissed by the ambient light. Her curls framed her face perfectly, and her smile was all he needed to know this night would stay etched in his soul forever. Jacob had always known this woman was special. She was fiery, fearless, and unapologetic.

But tonight, he saw something else. She was his calm in chaos. She was the one for him. His forever.

He leaned into her ear, his voice low, intimate. “Step outside with me?”

Yami raised a brow, teasing. “The party just started. You tryin’ to sneak away already, champ?”

Jacob smirked. “Just for a minute. Trust me.”

Curiosity tugged at her. She followed him through the private back entrance, past a bouncer who gave Jacob a knowing nod. The Vegas air was warm but crisp in the early spring night. The Strip glittered in the distance like a string of stars draped across earth. They stood in a quiet, roped-off rooftop space, far above the noise.

Jacob turned to her, his expression suddenly serious, but soft. “You ever think about how far we’ve come?”

Yami tilted her head, eyes narrowing playfully. “This a sentimental moment? You about to cry or something?”

He chuckled, rubbing his beard. “I might. You have become a big part of me. You have made me whole.”

“Awe, baby, you were already whole, I just made you see it for yourself,” she quipped.

That earned a laugh from him, full and real. Then his hand reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. Her breath caught the second she saw the small black box.

“Jacob…” Her voice dropped into a whisper.

“I don’t wanna do this on no extra shit or wait six months for some staged moment. I want it now. While my family's here. While you’re glowing like you own the damn sky. I’m not waiting another minute.”

He got down on one knee, the glimmer of the ring catching the rooftop lights. “Yami… will you marry me?”

Everything froze. The strip, the club, the world itself, it all vanished in a haze. Yami’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes shimmering.

“You for real?”

“As real as it gets.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, smudging her liner just enough to make her laugh as she nodded. “Yes. Of course, yes!”

Jacob stood and scooped her into a kiss that blocked out all sound. Somewhere behind them, cheers erupted, apparently, some of the family had followed them up without either of them noticing. Sefa was the first to charge over, lifting Jacob into a tight hug that nearly crushed his ribs. Trinity was next, embracing Yami with a squeal.

The celebration that night shifted into something else, still full of champagne and dancing, but now laced with something deeper. A promise. A future. The talk of the club was no longer just the new champion but the newly engaged couple.

The next morning, Yami groaned as she rolled over in bed, the sun creeping through the sheer curtains of the hotel suite. Her head was heavy, her body exhausted from the night’s whirlwind. She stretched, blinked and frowned.

Jacob wasn’t in bed.

Her fingers brushed the cool sheets beside her. That man always got up early after a win, high off adrenaline but still, it was their first morning engaged. She expected kisses, maybe room service and stolen cuddles before the chaos of WrestleMania Sunday kicked off.

She reached for her phone, then noticed a note on the pillow:

Get dressed. Hair up. Simple makeup. White. Trust me. Be ready in 45 minutes. – J

She blinked. “White?”

Her brows furrowed as she sat up. Then she noticed the clothing bag hanging on the door. A soft, off-white gown, elegant but simple, hung inside. No glitter. No frills. Just class. Her heart started to race.

“Oh no, what is this man up to...?”

At 10:30 am, Yami’s heels clicked against the sidewalk as the car parked at the iconic Las Vegas wedding chapel. It was a quiet street, lined with palms and sunshine, but when the door opened, she nearly lost her breath.

The Fatu family stood outside, waiting. Trinity. Jon. Joshua. Sefa. Haku. Aphrodite. All forty of them. Even Jacob’s kids were dressed up and holding small lei garlands.

Jacob stood at the entrance in traditional Samoan garments: a lavalava wrapped around his waist, a tapa sash across his chest. He looked regal, grounded, radiant with pride. In his hands, he held a white lei and a flower crown made of white hibiscus and pikake.

“What… is this?” she said, stepping out with disbelief in her voice.

“A wedding,” he grinned. “Ours.”

“You planned a wedding in less than 10 hours?”

Jacob gave her a look. “You surprised? You think I was gonna propose and not marry you asap?”

She laughed through the tears already forming. “You are out of your damn mind.”

“And you love it.”

She nodded. “I do.”

He walked toward her slowly, music beginning to play softly, a mix of traditional Samoan drums and gentle vocals humming through speakers hidden by the garden. He placed the lei over her neck and the crown gently atop her curls. Her fingers touched his chest.

“You sure?” she whispered.

Jacob looked into her eyes, unwavering. “You’re my day one. I never been more sure of anything in my life.”

The ceremony was short but deeply rooted in culture. Haku gave a short blessing, followed by a Samoan wedding chant delivered by an elder cousin who had flown in late the night before. They exchanged rings—gold, solid, timeless. Their vows were personal. Simple.

“I promise to protect you, laugh with you, build with you, and never let this industry come between what we got.”

“I promise to fight with you, for you, beside you, always. You’re my peace, Jacob. And my fire.”

They kissed beneath the white chapel arch while the small crowd erupted in cheers.

Later that morning, backstage at Allegiant Stadium, Yami and Jacob returned to WrestleMania for Day Two, not just as attendees, but as newlyweds. Yami now wore a crisp white jumpsuit and a “Mrs. Fatu” nameplate necklace that Trinity had given her minutes after the ceremony. Her eyes sparkled more than usual. Her phone buzzed endlessly with texts and social media pings.

The whole roster seemed to buzz with the news. LA Knight even offered a joking toast backstage, saying, “He took my title and locked down the baddest one in the room. Respect!”

Yami beamed as she walked through the locker room, hand-in-hand with Jacob. There was a different air around them now like they’d leveled up from power couple to something mythical. Unshakeable. Inevitable.

As the opening pyro roared above the stadium and thousands of fans screamed, Yami leaned into Jacob’s ear with a mischievous grin.

“You really just snuck-marry me before brunch.”

Jacob kissed her temple. “Now you’re stuck with me. Forever.”

She laughed. “Good. I’m not going anywhere.”

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yamirosnay 04.20.25 💒

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It didn’t take long. Before the opening match of WrestleMania Sunday even finished, the wrestling world and the internet at large was on fire.

They were trending globally.

Yami’s Instagram story had teased it first, just a single photo of a heart shaped wedding cakes with the words til death written in icing on it and the caption: “4.20.25.”

Within minutes, screenshots flooded Twitter. TikToks went up from fans who happened to be near the Little White Chapel that morning, catching glimpses of the ceremony from across the street. Wrestling pages and gossip blogs alike raced to confirm the news. TMZ, Sports Illustrated, and even People Magazine had picked it up by early afternoon.

Surprise Wedding in Vegas! WWE’s Jacob Fatu and Beauty Mogul/Wrestler Yami Tie the Knot in Intimate Samoan-Inspired Ceremony.

“They Said ‘I Do’ Before They Said ‘Let’s Go!’” – Couple Marries Just Hours Before WrestleMania Day Two.

“Power. Loyalty. Legacy. This Is What Love Looks Like.” – A viral fan edit on TikTok racked up 2.3 million views in 5 hours, using slow-motion footage of their kiss set to SZA’s Good Days.

In backstage interviews during WrestleMania, WWE’s own social team leaned into the story, capturing exclusive footage of Jacob and Yami walking hand-in-hand through the stadium, showing off their new rings. Sefa gave a quick shoutout on camera, beaming: “Y’all already know. That’s family. And now it’s official-official.”

Even Rikishi posted, quoting a picture of the newlyweds: A Samoan Dynasty moves forward with strength and grace. Congratulations to Mr. & Mrs. Fatu.

Fans were split between shock and joy. Some had always rooted for the couple, calling them "goals" since Yami first appeared at Jacob’s side months ago. Others were completely caught off guard.

“They really did a title win AND a wedding in the same weekend? Peak Samoan excellence.” — @WrestleTeaQueen

“Yami really said ‘catch me in a bonnet one night and a wedding veil the next’ and I respect the HELL outta that.” — @girlinthearena

“Jacob Fatu got his US title and his wife within 24 hours. Roman somewhere watching like ‘I taught them well.’” — @HeadofTheTea

“WWE needs to make this a documentary ASAP. I want the vows, the planning, the chapel, ALL of it.” — @KayfabeFeels

Even those outside the wrestling bubble noticed. Forbes included it in their WrestleMania recap, citing the union as a PR dream for WWE—a real love story in a business often filled with storylines and kayfabe relationships.

“Yami isn’t just another Diva-turned-entrepreneur,” they wrote. “She’s a self-made mogul who came from real-life struggle and chaos, and Jacob Fatu is wrestling royalty with a warrior’s soul. Together, they symbolize the evolving face of wrestling power couples with less glitz and more grit.”

Meanwhile, PR analysts speculated that a reality show might be in the works. The buzz around the spontaneous wedding, the championship win, and their family roots had all the makings of a high-rating docuseries. Some claimed WWE had been quietly filming behind the scenes since WrestleMania weekend began.

Later that week, on The Nikki & Brie Show’s WrestleMania Recap episode, Yami made a surprise call-in appearance. Her voice, still giddy from the weekend, held that post-honeymoon glow, even if it had only been 72 hours.

“You really did it like that?” Nikki asked, laughing. “Like one night you’re at the club with your man, and the next morning you’re a wife?”

Yami chuckled. “He didn’t even give me time to freak out. That man handed me a note and a dress and said, ‘Be ready in 45 minutes.’”

Brie gasped. “You didn’t even know?”

“I thought maybe brunch or a spa,” Yami said. “Not a damn wedding with the whole dynasty outside the chapel.”

“But you looked incredible,” Nikki added. “You both did. And girl, that white hibiscus crown? I got chills.”

Yami’s tone shifted, soft, emotional. “It was perfect. I never thought I’d have a moment like that. Not with the life I came from. Not with all the trauma, the chaos... but Jacob sees me. All of me. And he never blinked. That man’s love is spiritual.”

On the first SmackDown after WrestleMania, WWE leaned into the moment, opening the show with a highlight reel of Jacob’s championship win spliced with footage from the wedding. The crowd in the arena erupted at the kiss. Chants of “MRS. FATU!” broke out when Yami made a surprise run-in during Jacob’s post-match segment, the commentary sealed the narrative: “They went to Vegas for WrestleMania, but they left with more than gold. They’ve got legacy. They’ve got love. This is the new era of the Samoan Dynasty, and the Fatu name just got even stronger.

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part 41: Houses

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

When you arrived at Cillian's apartment later that day, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety. You had always been independent and strong -willed, but after your injury, you had felt vulnerable and helpless. Thus, having the man you loved look after you was both terrifying and comforting.

"Are you really sure about this?" you asked softly, looking up at him with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. You couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed by the thought of living with Cillian, even if it was only for a short while.

Cillian nodded, his eyes soft as they met yours. "Yes, I'm sure," he murmured, reaching out to gently push your hair back from your face. "I want to be there for you, to support you and help you through this difficult time," he explained gently, his voice warm and reassuring.

"And, if I'm being completely honest, I've missed having you around. So, if this is what it takes for me to spend more time with you, then I'm all for it," he continued, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

You couldn't help but feel your heart flutter at his words. It had been a long time since someone had cared for you in this way and, despite all the challenges that lay ahead, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Cillian's support and understanding.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion as you looked up at him with a mixture of gratitude and love. You couldn't believe that this man, who had once been your boyfriend's father, was now not only your lover but also your caregiver.

Cillian smiled gently down at you before leaning in to press a tender kiss to your lips. "You don't have to thank me," he murmured against your mouth. "I love you , Y/N. I want to be here for you, in every way possible."

***

Over the weeks that followed, Cillian did, indeed, take care of you and you were becoming more self-sufficient by every day that passed. 

Your body was healing but, more importantly, so was your heart.

You spent every day with Cillian, watching Netflix and ordering take-out food, or sometimes just reading books, talking, and laughing together.

Cillian was incredibly patient with you and always made sure to make you feel comfortable, never pushing you to do more than you were capable of.

It was a slow and steady recovery - physically and emotionally - but with each passing day, you found yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with Cillian.

As your body mended, you also discovered a newfound vulnerability in yourself that you had never acknowledged before. It was a strange feeling to be so dependant on another person, especially considering that your life before the accident had been one filled with independence and determination.

After a while, you managed  to get out of the wheelchair and start using crutches, which allowed you to move around Cillian's apartment with ease.

The physical therapy sessions in London were demanding and left you exhausted but, each passing day, you noticed an improvement in your overall mobility and strength.

The daily sessions were indeed strenuous, but with Cillian by your side, encouraging and cheering you on, it was bearable.

You fell into a comfortable routine, one which became your new normal.

"I want to get rid of these before we are going to the awards. I don't want to be there, in a fancy dress, with crutches," you told Cillian one morning, pointing at your crutches which were lean against the wall near the front door, but he reassured you that it would be fine.

"I know, but you shouldn't push yourself too much babe, alright? Don't worry about it. You will look stunning regardless," he said, brushing a lock of hair out of your face, and you smiled at him gratefully.

"You are getting an Oscar and I want to support you by not looking like an in injured little bird on your arm," you said, trying to laugh it off, but Cillian frowned, his eyes serious.

"I am not getting an Oscar Y/N. I am just nominated," Cillian corrected, positioning his fingers on your cheek to trace the curve of your bone structure.

"Well, I personally think you picking up that little statue is a given, but we shall see," you  teased, leaning into his touch.

"Well, I suppose we'll find out soon enough," he said, a hint of nervousness underlying his voice, but that hint of nervousness was not because of the impending academy awards. It was because of the ongoing legal battle against his ex-wife Danielle and the charges that had been brought against her. These were all matters he had shielded you from and you knew literally nothing about how bad things had become. 

Cillian was a great actor and pretended that everything was fine whereas, the truth was that, for almost two months now, he not only had to deal with some negative press because of Danielle's actions, but also with strenuous court proceedings and appeals with regards to her care.

Having been admitted to an institution for treatment, it was no surprise that she tried her best to manipulate the situation by using Max against Cillian, reminding him over and over again that his father's actions led her to do what she did.

She wanted you gone from their life after the mess you had created and the fact that you now lived with Cillian angered Danielle greatly. Danielle, however, wasn't the only one who was angered by this. Max, too was angry, but not just for the reasons as his mother was. He believed that, despite his protests, Cillian had chosen to put his relationship with you before his relationship with him.

"You should have ended this once and for all after mum found out and none of this would have happened," Max thus told his father during the last hearing in court just a few days ago, but Cillian remained adamant that you two, as consenting adults, were able to choose what it was you wanted to do in your lives.

"Max, it's not that simple. Your mother has manipulated our marriage for many years and I stayed with her to protect you from, well, shit like this," Cillian said, trying to remain calm while explaining the situation to his son.

Max sneered and shook his head. "Tell yourself whatever you want dad, but all of this is your fault. You had an affair with my fucking girlfriend for crying out loud, and then you're surprised when Mom goes off the deep end?" Max said, disdain evident in his voice. Cillian sighed deeply, running a hand through his short hair. He knew that Max was angry, and rightfully so. But he couldn't let Max believe that Danielle's actions were solely his fault.

"Max, I understand that you're upset. And I'm sorry for that, I truly am. But I didn't force your mother to do anything. She made a series of bad decisions, and now she's paying the price for them," Cillian continued with a heavy heart.

"She certainly is and you still got what you wanted, didn't you?" Max sneered before telling his father that he should end it now at least. He told him to choose between you or him, which  left Cillian torn between a rock and a hard place.

"Max, I am not going to break up with Y/N," Cillian declared, his voice firm as he looked upon his son with a mixture of sadness and determination.

"Then I don't want to see you again, dad. You may as well be dead to me," Max replied, his voice filled with anger and resentment. "You chose her over me, over mum, and it's fucked up," Max added, before storming out of the courtroom's foyer following the hearing.

Cillian couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as he watched his son leave, his heart heavy with the weight of the situation.

He knew that Max was angry, and he couldn't blame him. But he also knew that he couldn't just end things with you, not after everything they had been through together.

"He will come around," Dermont said, who had come to most court hearings with his friend for moral support. 

"I hope you're right," Cillian murmured, his eyes clouded with worry. Max's rejection cut deep, and Cillian couldn't bear the thought of severing ties with his son permanently. "I can understand why he is angry and upset with me but, fuck, I cannot just end it with Y/N," he told Dermont as they waited for his solicitor who was still inside, talking to Danielle's attorney. 

"You aren't with her simply out of pity though, are you?" Dermont  asked, his voice carrying a slight hint of concern as he looked at Cillian with a curious gaze.

Cillian looked back at his friend and shook his head firmly. "No man. I actually have feelings for her," Cillian confessed, his voice steady but hesitant. "She's helped me see things differently, opened my eyes to things I never realized about myself. And I really love her," he admitted, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

Dermont nodded, understanding the gravity of Cillian's words. "Then you have to follow your heart mate and give Max some space to come to terms with this," he advised, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder in a comforting gesture.

Cillian nodded, acknowledging Dermont's advice. He knew that Max needed time and space to process everything that had happened, and he was determined to give him just that.

As the days went by, Cillian found himself becoming even more invested in his relationship with you.

Despite the challenges that lay ahead, he was determined to make it work, to support and care for you in every way possible and even though you saw staying with him at his apartment as a temporary solution, Cillian  couldn't help but imagine the two of you living together long-term.

He saw it as a chance to start anew, to leave the past behind and build a life together and when, one later afternoon, he came home with a few brochures for houses in a different suburb of London, you became curious.

"Suburbia, huh?" you said with surprise as you looked over the brochures Cillian had set on the coffee table. "Are you looking to move?" you asked, not knowing that Cillian wanted you to move with him.

"Well, I think us staying in the same apartment building as my son isn't the best of ideas right now. I want to give him some space. He deserves that and I was thinking that, maybe, moving out of the city would be a nice change," Cillian explained, a hint of uncertainty in his voice as he looked down at the brochures on the table. 

"Don't you have a house in Dublin?" you asked, genuinely surprised. You never thought about Cillian living in the busy city of London, at least not full-time.

He shook his head. "I am going to put it on the market soon. It holds too many bad memories to be honest,"  Cillian replied with a shrug, a pained expression crossing his face as he took a deep breath. You could sense the pain in his voice, the sadness that lingered behind his words as he recalled all that had transpired in that once happy home.

For a moment, you reached out to take his hand in yours, to reassure him that you were there for him, that you would be there for him through every victory and every loss. "I get it, but I am just surprised, you know," you simply said with a nod, squeezing his hand gently in yours.  "So, you want to stay in London then permanently?" you ought to ask  , a somewhat expectant smile gracing your features as you regarded Cillian with curiosity. There was a definite hint of hopefulness in your tone, one that you couldn't quite suppress.

Cillian nodded, looking at you with a steady gaze. "Yes. I want to make this work between us, and I know that your life is here, so it would make sense for me to live in London permanently, right?" he explained, a hint of determination in his voice as his eyes never left yours.

"Well, it would, but I don't want you to live here just for me," you murmured sincerely, looking up at him with a concerned expression. 

"I intend to build a life here for both of us, Y/N," Cillian replied, a gentle smile spreading across his lips. "It would be our home, a place for us to enjoy together, and, maybe we could even get a dog and, I don't know, have kids or something one day," he continued, his voice strong and steady.

"You want to have kids? And a dog? With me?" you  asked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in the conversation.

Cillian nodded, a smile on his lips. "Yes, with you, one day, not right now," he said emphatically. "Unless you don't want kids, or a dog, of course," he added, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice. "I mean we could always just get a cat or something," he then stammered , quickly regretting the word choice as he saw the surprised expression on your face.

"A cat!?" you laughed, shaking your head and playfully fluttering your eyelashes at him. "I am, uhm, I am not really a cat person," 

you murmured, still chuckling lightly at how absurd the idea seemed, but Cillian merely raised his brows, a playful grin tugging at the corners of this full lips.

"Well, I can cater to your preferences then, how about that?" he asked, his voice still soft, but now tinged with a slight hint of challenge, one that, if you didn't know him, might have given you the wrong impression.

"Sounds good but, just to let me get this straight, you actually want me to move in with you permanently?"  you asked, placing the brochures down on the coffee table as you turned to face Cillian fully.

Cillian nodded, his gaze steady and determined as he looked at you. "Yes , I do want you to move in with me permanently," he said, his voice clear and strong as he took your hands in his. "I know it's a big decision and not one to be taken lightly. But I want you by my side, Y/N. I want to build a life with you," he continued, a hint of vulnerability in his voice as he looked at you with a mixture of love and hope.

You sighed softly, your eyes never leaving Cillian's as you considered his words. 

"Okay, but no cats!"  you said, laughing as you responded to Cillian's proposal. The idea of sharing a home with him felt both exciting and overwhelming. You had always been fiercely independent, but Cillian had managed to wiggle his way into your heart and life in a way that you couldn't deny. "And I will think about starting a family together one day, but not any time soon. For now, let's just keep practicing making babies, okay?" you winked at Cillian who broke out in a deep laugh. 

"Practicing sounds good to me," he smiled back before pulling you into another deep and passionate kiss, a promise of things to come.

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@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[yearofradicalselfbelief]

Part Four [Progess & Foundation Laying] - 16/12/23

Hello! I actually have a non-depressing update to write today, what a time to be alive. Discussions of 2024 goals, and changes to my writing schedule ahead.

I’ve spent the last week or so basically already making a start on my goals for 2024, so that once January hits, all I need to actually do is maintain the momentum instead of spending the first few weeks undoing whatever bad habits I could let myself slip into just because it’s the holiday season.

My big goals for 2024 are nothing new. I go into every year wanting to read more, write more, and exercise more. The thing is, there was a time when I’d have these goals and each one truly would be starting from scratch. Before I started writing daily as a rule, weeks would go by where I didn’t write a single word, then I’d feel bad about not writing, which would make me want to write even less, and create that great little feedback loop from hell. I also went through a ridiculous reading dry spell during/following my uni years, because nothing makes you want to read less than doing an English Lit degree, and honestly I’d never been big into fitness beyond a few weeks-long health kicks up until I hit my 20s, either.

So when I’d first have these goals, none of the foundation would be there, and I was basically expecting my habits to go from 0 to 100 the second the clock struck midnight for the New Year. Recently, I’ve been doing things smarter.

Starting my daily writing streak on 1st January 2020 was a great starting point, because I haven’t missed a day since, and I’ll be hitting my 1500th consecutive day of writing sometime in the first quarter of next year. The year that followed that, 2021, I started to take my fitness way more seriously. I worked out on and off before that, but 2021 was the year where I did my first ever 75Hard challenge – successfully – in the summer, then another the following autumn, and I’ve done several since.

2022, as I’ve said, was a bit of a write-off because of everything I went through, but 2023 has been the year of upping the reading habit. Last year I read 14 books, this year I read 41 – with ~5 more being in progress, but I probably won’t finish those til New Year. My goal for next year is 50.

The thing is though, juggling these habits means that it’s been pretty common so far for one thing to fall by the wayside while I focus on the other two. When I did flufftober this year, I didn’t have the time to do a single workout the whole month. Or when I do a workout challenge, my writing output halves because it gets to the evening time and it’s just a struggle to stay conscious during the evening hours where I’d ordinarily get my best words in.

So my overarching goal for 2024 is to have a year where I just absolutely ace all three of those habits. I want to read lots, write lots, and get a great level of consistency with my workouts. I do have more minor goals that fall within all of that too, like finding a way of using social media that isn’t all or nothing. This year, my screen time has either been insanely high, or I’ve been on Instagram breaks for months at a time. Then I hang around until I can see it’s wearing on my mentally, and disappear again for a long stretch. I really want to find a middle ground with that – one that doesn’t have me being so terminally online that I feel like shit, but also one that doesn’t have me constantly missing out on cheering on overseas friends, with whom IG is my only source of real communication.

And, as I said on my main blog, another big thing I’m changing is really controlling where my energy goes with my writing, and when. Because I do have a bad habit of focusing on fanfic more than I focus on the novel. There are a few reasons for that, and honestly I don’t even regret it – yet. But if I don’t make any changes, there will be a day on the horizon where I do.

Fanfic has been, and still is, great for me. It gave me a community of amazing, kind, supportive, and generous people when I was in the lowest point of my life (and I cannot overstate how much that made that time bearable for me), and it has improved my writing by miles. I’ve had people in my life who do openly view it as me wasting my time because it hasn’t gotten me further in my writing career when you only look at the basic facts, and there have even been times when I’ve been tempted to give into their way of thinking. However, earlier this year I read some very early drafts of the novel – from way back before I even started Little By Little – and they were just not good at all. Then, I look at the chapters I’m producing now, and seeing how much better they are, and that change is thanks to the sheer amount of fic I’ve produced in the last few years.

In part it’s because of the fact that writing so often is bound to improve said writing, but it’s also because of the feedback I’ve gotten on those fics. Feedback doesn’t always only limit itself to reflecting on the specific story that feedback pertains to. Sure, sometimes it’s a case of “I wasn’t a fan of this plot point” or “I don’t like this character”, but other times it’s “I feel like there has been too much introspection in these last few chapters” (which was a big problem with my writing at the start of this decade, and really showed in early novel drafts), or “I really enjoy the humour you put in your stories” – because allowing myself to have fun and be silly with the narration in Catch the Wind, and seeing not only how much fun I had with that, but how much people liked that, really freed me up to add the same thing into the novel itself.

It all contributes, and while I do have a tendency to get upset at myself for reaching the ripe old age of 27 without having yet even queried a single novel, I look back on the stuff I was writing at the ages when I really wanted it to happen that specific year, and I can see that my writing just wasn’t ready for it. Now, thanks to fic, it is.

But that still leaves me with the fact that I now really do need to start prioritising my time. The discrepancy with fic and original work comes in the form of instant validation. With fic, I can finish a chapter, and if it’s a popular story I might have a comment on it within an hour. And it’s not that I feel like I can’t write without that, but because it’s such a help with my own anxiety when it comes to writing. I have a tendency to finish every chapter thinking it’s shit, and I don’t believe otherwise until I have that first comment telling me someone enjoyed it. With novel work, it doesn’t work that way. And because the novel means so much to me, that adds to the anxiety, until there are times when I’m so anxious about working on it that I can’t even enjoy working on it, because I’m just telling myself “what if this is shit? What if you’ve wasted ten years of your life building this world and creating this thing, and it ends up being for nothing?”

And I mean, it won’t be for nothing. If no agent wants to take it on, I’m not averse to the idea of doing a patreon type thing with it once I’ve exhausted every other avenue, but it is just that initial anxiety. I know it’s irrational, and my beta readers are really enjoying it, but the fact remains that I am a Frightened Bitch. It’s genetic.

But I need to overcome that, and I won’t overcome that if I’m running to the safety blanket and instant validation of fanfic whenever my anxiety spikes.

This is something I’d resolved to fix for quite a few years now, but I’ve never gone in with a specific game-plan, which means I then fall back into usual habits very quickly, because “idk I’ll figure it out” isn’t cutting it here.

So, I’m imposing a rule where I can only post one fic chapter, total, a week. Not one chapter of each fic, just one chapter of one fic. Fridays will be fanfic days, and I’ll post my chapter, and then I’ll go back to novel work. If a few months go by and I’m especially happy with novel progress, I might up that. I still want to take part in flufftober, but I’m really hoping that by then novel work will be so far along that doing so won’t be a problem, because it’ll be a nice break from edits rather than all-out rewrites. The plan is to also decide at the start of each week what will be updated next, let you guys know what it will be so you’re not waiting only to find out it’s a fic you don’t even read, and then rotate between that and the novel during that week. My current way of doing things is to have like 12 word docs open at any given time and just add to each one here and there until something is finished, but that isn’t the most efficient way to go about this.

I do have other set outlines as to how I’m going to achieve my other goals, rather than just “read more” and “exercise more”, because breaking them down into concise weekly targets to hit makes so much more sense. As for the screen time/social media dilemma, I’m going to be taking every Monday off of social media – with the exception of answering IG messages, because I use that in place of texting and I don’t want to completely self-isolate, just lessen the scrolling and the posting. I’ll also be limiting how often I can post, because the folk who follow me over there will know that my IG stories get a bit unhinged re: length at times. If I need more than that, which I think I will, I’ll extend the break to Tuesdays, too.

And the 50 book goal is pretty neat, because I can then just set myself with the goal of one book per week, or aim for 100 pages a day, which is fairly doable most days.

It’s going well, so far! I worked out five times this week, I’ve done quite a bit of reading, and I’m currently in the progress of updating every fic that I want to update before this once a week rule comes in (HTWA, Free, and Fallen Through Time are the top priorities – then, I think HWFG should roll around to be the first thing I update come New Year).

And to finish things off, I mentioned in my last post that I’m forcing myself to go out and do fun things for the sake of doing fun things at least once per month, beyond just errands and stuff that needs to be done, even if it just means a solo cinema trip or whatever. I did that this month, so have my proof of that in parting. Went to the city centre for lunch with a friend, and to take in the Christmas lights and snoop at the pretty clothbound classics.

So happy to be able to post something actually positive on here for once! I intend to keep that up, and I’m very grateful to the people who are following along on here!

[forwhomtheblindbellstoll]

[ID] a set of drawings based on My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic on PonyTube, a clear parody of Youtube. Each image contains two video thumbnails for a total of 6 and will be listed in order from top to bottom: 1 Thumbnail of Twilight Sparkle concentrating as she uses her magic to hold a device that is labeled "Friendshipmeter in front of two other ponies hugging. Video length is 22 minutes 26 seconds. The video is titled "Measuring the influence of HUGS intensity on friendship potential" by user Twilight Official with 130k views posted 2 weeks ago. 2 Thumbnail of Pinkie Pie with a streamer in her mouth in the center with Cheese Sandwich cheering on the left and Vinyl Scratch (DJ-PON3) DJing while Octavia dances on the right. Video length is 18 minutes 41 seconds. The video is titled "24 HOURS PARTY CHALLENGE" by user Piu Piu Pinkie with 1.1 million views posted 1 month ago. 3 Thumbnail of Applejack with a serious expression with a whole apple to her left and an apple core to her right with binary code in the background. Video length is 3 hours 56 minutes and 52 seconds. The video is titled "APPLES. Documentary film" by user AJ with 35 views posted 19 hours ago. 4 Thumbnail of Fluttershy in the lower left corner wearing butterfly themed headphones showing a Minecraft screenshot with lots of various tamed animals next to a river with a bridge build over it. Video length is 24 minutes 34 seconds. The video is titled "I built an animal sanctuary in Minecraft: Hardcore" by user Your Flutty with 3.2 million views posted 2 weeks ago. 5 Thumbnail of Rainbow Dash with an exaggerated shocked face holding up a Daring Do book. Video length is 9 minutes 52 seconds. The video is titled "Is Daring Do and the mysterious horseshoe a COMPLETE FAILURE? (not clickbait)" by user TheCoolestPony with 20k views posted 1 day ago. 6 Thumbnail of Rarity with a wide-eyed expression using her magic to hold a candle while beside her a ghostly pony wearing baggy socks with sandals has text above her saying "Whooo! I wear socks with sandals!" Video length is 11 minutes 11 seconds. The video is titled "The ghost of bad taste - MYTH or TRUTH?" by user Rarity with 666 views posted 6 months ago. [/ID]

You ask me, where have I gone for a while? I was drawing ponytube!!!!!!

I'm sorry if I made mistakes. English is not my native language

[iamdrowninghelpme98]

Entry 41:

2025

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

June

It’s been a little over two weeks of being clean. I wish I could say that it’s getting easier, but honestly, withdrawal has been hell. Most days, I’ve been curled up in bed or hunched over the toilet, my body betraying me in waves of nausea and exhaustion. The cold sweats hit hardest when the cravings surge- those moments when I can almost taste the pills, when my mind tries to convince me that just one more would make the pain stop. But I know where that path goes. I’ve been down it too many times. This time, I’m choosing something different.

I had to call out of work and ended up going to the hospital one night. I think my body was just done- starved, dehydrated, and depleted. They gave me medicine to ease the nausea and hooked me up to a liquid IV. It sounds small, but I felt like I came back to life for a little while. It reminded me that I deserve to feel okay again. That my body deserves gentleness, not punishment.

I’ve also started going to a Suboxone clinic. I passed my last evaluation, which means I’m cleared to continue taking the medication with weekly check-ins. The medication helps, but the clinic has their own required sessions on top of the Monday meetings I already attend regularly. I haven’t made it to one of theirs yet. It’s not that I don’t want to- it’s just that every ounce of energy I have is going toward surviving the moment I’m in. Sometimes even getting out of bed feels like a mountain. That said, the Monday meetings have honestly been such a surprising bright spot. I’ve really come to love them. Who would’ve thought I’d end up in an LGBTQ+ recovery group? That was definitely an unexpected twist- I wasn’t told that when I first signed up for a group that met on the night I was looking for. But they’ve been absolutely wonderful.

I remember after my first meeting, I awkwardly mentioned during my exit that I might be in the wrong place- “I’m straight?” I laughed nervously. And one of the group members just looked at me and said, “Are you here because you’re trying to get sober?” I said yes. He smiled and said, “Then you’re in the right spot.” That moment has stuck with me. Since then, I’ve felt completely comfortable there. The shares are getting easier, and I actually look forward to going now. The therapist who runs the group is the lady I really like- she asks deep, challenging questions and gets us to reflect in ways I never would’ve reached on my own. Each week there’s a new topic we focus on, and I really appreciate that structure. It gives me something solid to hold onto in a time when everything else still feels so shaky. When you’re this lost, a little direction can make all the difference.

Work has allowed me to use sick time, that’s been a blessing, but I’m running very low on what’s left of it- I’m so fortunate to have a job that been so understanding with all the craziness in my life, I really really don’t want to use up all my good graces with them and blow it. I need to find the strength to go back to work regularly, not just a few shifts a week. Having performed as a top seller last year has definitely given me stronger job security, but I worry that I could be let go at any minute, perhaps it’s just my anxiety, but I can’t help but worry missing so much work will become a bigger problem. If I loose this job, I don’t know what I would do. I can’t go back to my night job, being in the club is dooming any progress I’ve made in my sobriety, and really just dooming my overall healing process.

I need to be strong.

But I’m not alone this time. That’s the difference. My roommates have been amazing. Every time I’m burning up or too weak to move, they’re right there with cold rags and words of comfort, doing everything they can to make me just a little more comfortable. I didn’t ask for angels, but somehow, they appeared anyway.

And my adopted dad- he’s been incredible. Constantly cheering me on, reminding me that he’s proud of me, telling me he loves me no matter what. He’s even been tracking my sober days. That kind of support? It matters more than I can say. For so long, I carried this shame like it was stitched into my skin. But this time, I don’t feel like I’m walking through the fire alone. We’ve been hanging out a lot recently, going to lunch and taking walks. It’s been amazing, I look forward to every one of them, and I hope we can continue to hang out this regularly for a long time. I really do.

I survived Mother’s Day this year- and that’s something I didn’t think I’d be able to say. That day has been a weight on my chest for weeks leading up to it. Last year, I planned on ending my life that day. I was so dirt poor, I stole a couple of avocados from the grocery store and told myself it was okay- it was my “last meal,” I called it. I was convinced that would be my final day. I just wanted one last moment of happiness, and I found it in something as small as an avocado. I sat alone on a park bench for hours, crying, waiting for the sun to go down. I had the shot ready in my bag- a dose far more than I’d ever taken before. I knew it would be enough to make me sleep and never wake up. That day I didn’t talk to my mom. I didn’t talk to my adopted mom. They didn’t call me. And I didn’t call them. All I could think about was Everly. I just wanted to be with her.

I felt so alone, like the world had shut me out entirely. I didn’t know who to call, but somehow I called R. He picked up right away and heard the panic in my voice. He stayed on the phone with me the entire time, and then drove almost nine hours from out of state to find me on that bench. We ended up getting back together for a few months after that, but like always, it ended painfully.

This year, I was determined to be stronger. I knew I needed to survive this one without him. I had already had dinner with him when he came to town, but I didn’t do anything I would regret later- didn’t stay the night, just had conversations, and gained a little peace of mind seeing him doing okay. I can’t help that I still care about him, but it does help ease my worries about him so I can focus on myself. So when mothers day rolled around I made a plan to make it a good day. I sent flowers to both my mom and my adopted mom. I even went back to that same park- but this time, I walked with intention. I reflected on the good, the progress I’ve made, the love I’ve started to let in again. It was on that walk that I decided it was time to start making a real plan to get clean. I’d been cutting back for months, trying to taper. But something inside me clicked that day-it was finally time to stop for good, and it was time to do it that week.

Sending those flowers was scary. I didn’t know if it would be received as a kind gesture or an awkward one. But I’m glad I sent them. It opened the door to a few brief conversations with my adopted mom. It felt good, even if small. She even got me a birthday gift this year, she wouldn’t do that if she didn’t care, right? I’m not sure what’s going on with her son, it sounds like him being so far away has created a distance between them, and maybe something more is going on. That makes me sad, because I know how much she truly loves him. She’s a good mom, and I hope she knows that, I spent last Mother’s Day sad, and I didn’t want her to have to go through that. I wish I knew how to communicate with her. Because maybe she doesn’t hate me the way I’ve convinced myself she does. My adopted dad tells me all the time that she doesn’t, but I’ve always worried he might just be trying to protect me from a harder truth. But maybe… maybe I’ve been wrong. Maybe it’s not hate. Maybe it’s distance, or self-protection, or simply not knowing what to say. And maybe that doesn’t mean I’m unlovable. I think it’s possible to not be ready to let someone in again and still care for them. Maybe that’s closer to how she feels about me.

There’s been a lot of good things to reflect on, but there are still so many moments where the sadness swallows me whole. I think of Everly, of the life I wanted to give her. I talk to her sometimes, especially when it gets really hard. I remind myself that the pain I’m pushing through now is a fight for both of us- for the version of me she would have been proud of.

The physical withdrawal symptoms are slowly loosening their grip. The mental ones are trickier. The memories, the shame, the guilt, the loneliness that still creeps in during quiet moments- I carry all of that. But I also carry hope. For the first time in a long time, I feel like there’s a real shot at healing. Not just staying clean, but truly healing.

This time, I’m not just surviving. I’m rebuilding.

[captaincatwoodson]

8 Races, 1 Sweatshirt & A Year of Strong Strides – My 2022 Running Journey 🏅👟

2022 was a year of speed, sweat, and strong finishes—from freezing February mornings to summer grinds, virtual half marathons to festive holiday runs, and one epic race series sweatshirt to cap it all off.

🏁 February 12 – Blacksburg Classic 5K

📍 Blacksburg, VA ⏳ 32:09 ❄️ Cold & crisp, mid-30s°F

The first race of the year! A solid road 5K with flat stretches early before rolling hills kicked in. Winter air kept the effort sharp, but crossing the finish line made it all worth it.

🍀 March 19 – Shamrock 4-Miler

📍 Blacksburg, VA ⏳ 43:19 🌥️ Cool & breezy, mid-50s°F

Four miles of steady pacing, weaving through road sections and scenic detours—plus, festive St. Patrick’s vibes everywhere. Green race swag? Yes, please.

🎗️ April 16 – #VT32Run in Remembrance

📍 Blacksburg, VA ⏳ 33:49 🌤️ Sunny & comfortable, mid-60s°F

One of the most meaningful races of the year—a tribute to the 32 lives lost in 2007. Passing through Lane Stadium, The Grove, and the Virginia Tech Pylons, this run was more reflection than competition.

🌅 June 18 – Downtown Sundown 5K

📍 Blacksburg, VA ⏳ 34:35 🌞 Warm, mid-70s°F

Evening race? Yes, please! Sunset backdrop, smooth roads, and strong pacing made for an awesome mid-year event with the local running crowd.

🌲 July 24 – Huckleberry Jam 8.3

📍 Blacksburg, VA ⏳ 1:36:02 🔥 HOT. Upper 80s°F, barely any shade.

A true summer challenge, with heat pushing endurance to the limit. The Huckleberry Trail delivered a mix of straight stretches and rolling hills, testing grit and hydration strategy.

💨 August 5 – Draper Mile

📍 Blacksburg, VA ⏳ 7:31 ☀️ Warm & dry, low 80s°F

A pure speed event—one fast, downhill mile to see what the legs could do. Short, intense, and a thrilling break from long-distance efforts.

🍂 October 9 – Hokie Half Marathon (Virtual)

📍 Blacksburg, VA ⏳ 2:36:21 🌥️ Cool & overcast, upper 50s°F

A solo grind, keeping pace steady without race-day adrenaline or spectators. Hitting the Huckleberry Trail for part of it made it feel connected to past races, even if virtual.

🏔️ October 29 – Brush Mountain Breakdown 5K Trail Race

📍 Blacksburg, VA ⏳ 42:20 🍁 Chilly, mid-40s°F

Technical, winding trails mixed with fallen leaves and elevation shifts—making it one of the most rugged runs of the year. Tough, rewarding, and completely different from road racing.

🦃 November 24 – Blacksburg Turkey Trot 5K

📍 Blacksburg, VA ⏳ 30:41 🍂 Crisp fall air, mid-40s°F

Nothing like a pre-feast 5K! Holiday cheer, smooth roads, and perfect race temps made for a fast, fun run to kick off Thanksgiving celebrations.

❄️ December 24 – Frosty 5K

📍 Blacksburg, VA ⏳ 33:20 🌨️ Cold but dry, 35°F

Wrapping up 2022 in true winter running style—cold air, frosty roads, and festive energy. A final push before holiday celebrations, sealing off a strong race season.

🔥 🏆 THE BIG WIN: Completing 8/9 RunAbout races & earning the Series Sweatshirt! 🔥

✅ Seasonal variety—cold mornings, summer humidity, crisp fall air. ✅ Mix of roads, trails, speedwork, and endurance challenges. ✅ Meaningful races kept motivation strong. ✅ Finished almost every RunAbout race—hello, sweatshirt reward!

2022 was a year of miles, memories, and finish-line moments. Bring on 2023! 🚀🏅

[thirdworldrockout]

WrestleMania 41 Live Review

Night 1

Jey Uso wins world heavyweight title. 3 star match. Gave the fans what they want. They kept it simple, underdog wins, they put it on first to get it out of the way. Good decision. Give Jey his flowers, he worked hard when he started his solo run during the pandemic. He has main event-ed big shows challenging Reigns for the championship.

Tag titles changed hands. New Day new champs. Filler match. They put it on next to get it out of the way. Match was filler, I don't think fans favored one or the other and the win was greeted with little fanfare.

Cargill over Naomi. Good. Cool spots here and there. Cargill is a star. She could be someone's manager and they would cheer her.

Fatu wins US title. Good match. Best so far. This looks like his real push to be a major star.

Fenix replaces Rey Mysterio in match against El Grande Americano. This could steal the show! Up next!

[market-spy]

Demystifying the Global Network Packet Broker Market: Navigating the Complexities

In the labyrinth of modern networking, where data flows like a river and cyber threats lurk in the shadows, one tool stands as a beacon of clarity: the Network Packet Broker (NPB). But what exactly is an NPB, and why is it causing such a stir in the tech world? Let's dive in and decode the secrets of this fascinating market.

Unraveling the Mystery: What is a Network Packet Broker?

At its core, a Network Packet Broker is like a traffic cop for your data highway. It intelligently manages the flow of network traffic, directing it to the right tools and systems for analysis and security purposes. Think of it as the gatekeeper of your digital fortress, ensuring that only the right packets make it through while keeping the cyber barbarians at bay.

The Rise of the NPB Market: A Tale of Complexity and Security

In today's hyper-connected world, where IoT devices proliferate, cloud computing reigns supreme, and 5G networks promise lightning-fast speeds, the complexity of networks has reached dizzying heights. Enter the Network Packet Broker, swooping in to save the day with its ability to tame the chaos and provide much-needed visibility and control.

Bandwidth Battles: From 1 Gbps to 100 Gbps and Beyond

In the epic saga of bandwidths, the 1 Gbps-40 Gbps segment emerges as a hero, catering to the needs of data centers and large enterprises alike. But don't count out the 41 Gbps-80 Gbps range, which boasts impressive capabilities for streamlined data center management and automation. It's a battle of the bandwidths, and both sides are vying for dominance in the ever-expanding NPB market.

The End-User Chronicles: Enterprises, SMEs, and Government Entities

As enterprises embark on digital transformation journeys and governments tighten their cybersecurity defenses, the demand for Network Packet Brokers is skyrocketing. From large enterprises to nimble SMEs and security-conscious government agencies, everyone wants a piece of the NPB pie. After all, in a world where data is king, visibility and security reign supreme.

For More Information: https://www.skyquestt.com/report/network-packet-broker-market

The Regional Rendezvous: North America, Europe, and Asia-Pacific Take Center Stage

In the global theater of networking, North America steals the spotlight with its rapid adoption of advanced technologies and stringent focus on cybersecurity. But don't overlook Europe, where data centers thrive and cloud adoption is on the rise. And let's not forget Asia-Pacific, where digital transformation is in full swing, fueled by the proliferation of 5G networks and IoT devices.

Challenges and Opportunities: Navigating the Road Ahead

While the NPB market holds immense promise, it's not without its challenges. From complex implementations to hefty initial investments, businesses face hurdles on the path to NPB nirvana. But where there are challenges, there are also opportunities. With the right mix of innovation, scalability, and adaptability, the NPB market is poised for sustained growth in the years to come.

In Conclusion: Shedding Light on the Network Packet Broker Market

As we bid farewell to the era of network obscurity and embrace the dawn of NPB enlightenment, one thing is clear: the future of networking is bright. With Network Packet Brokers leading the charge, organizations can navigate the complexities of modern networks with confidence and clarity. So, here's to the unsung heroes of the digital age—the Network Packet Brokers—who keep our data safe and our networks secure. Cheers to a brighter, more connected future.

About Us-

SkyQuest Technology Group is a Global Market Intelligence, Innovation Management & Commercialization organization that connects innovation to new markets, networks & collaborators for achieving Sustainable Development Goals.

Contact Us-

SkyQuest Technology Consulting Pvt. Ltd.

1 Apache Way,

Westford,

Massachusetts 01886

USA (+1) 617–230–0741

Email- info@skyquestt.com

Website: https://www.skyquestt.com

[projectarkquel]

Birthday Blues

I though I have one but none so far. I was too pre occupied “adulting” with my growing kid. It’s the two of us figuring life and drawing strength from each other because basically it has always been the two of us. Juggling work, household and personal matters all at once.

I didn’t have time to reflect because life is too busy. The fact that I wanted to do it while walking in a tread mill is something I wish I could do even for just 10 minutes.

Though life has been good but few disappointments here and there. I am expecting too much from some people but then I just got tired and got used to it that I didn’t bother to go over with it. The pain is still there but the next thing I want to think is “anong ulam ng dinner”.

So far, no dramas no crying at night because I am just too tired. I just wanted to sleep and rest my body because of endless washing of dishes, cooking, laundry, answering emails, checking of schedule, etc.

So this is life and how a single parent like me have to face.

Its challenging but worth it.

Nevertheless, I know God is preparing me maybe He will let us move to a new house- who knows what are His plans for us.

Here I am, 3:32AM, writing an entry and thinking the things I need to do today. My cat Coco and the darkness are with me savoring the moment before the sun starts to shine which means I need to get up and prepare myself for another day of battle in life- surviving and winning so I can live for another day- tomorrow.

A cream cheese taro will do the trick tomorrow.

Gonna celebrate being a 41 year old “kid”- learning a lot of things, making mistakes, yearning for love and attention and wishing that I can go through life for another year.

Cheers!

RS

[mariacallous]

Donald Trump was arrested in Georgia tonight for his role in what prosecutors christened “a wide-ranging criminal enterprise” aimed at overturning the results of the 2020 election. Trump and 18 others—among them, his former lawyer, Rudolph Giuliani, and Mark Meadows, his former chief of staff—have been formally accused of 41 state-law felonies. The case is brought by Fani Willis, the district attorney of Fulton County, Georgia. Willis is not the first local prosecutor to charge a United States president with a felony, but she is the first to accuse one of trying to steal an election.

Among charges such as filing false documents and conspiracy to commit forgery, Trump is personally accused of trying to browbeat and suborn felony acts from high-ranking Georgia officials, including the chief elections supervisor, secretary of state Brad Raffensperger. Officials were pressed by Trump and other “co-conspirators” to take action to “decertify the election” and “unlawfully appoint presidential electors,” prosecutors claim. Together, the charges opened the door for Willis to pile on additional counts of racketeering. Filed under the state’s Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act, the charge would ask jurors to consider whether Trump and other defendants were involved in a single criminal undertaking. A conviction under RICO does not require that the defendants all know one another or be involved at the same time, so long as they’re all working toward a single corrupt goal.

RICO, which can carry up to a 20-year prison sentence, is a powerful and even dangerous legal weapon. Out of dozens of possible crimes, a prosecutor may have to prove only two to gain a conviction. The state is fairly ambiguous about what constitutes an “enterprise.” Jurors, meanwhile, may be shown a veritable tower of evidence and instructed, usually in some narrative fashion, to see a “pattern” in the defendants’ acts; something the human brain is naturally wired to do, even at a subconscious level. For Trump and his team, allowing the case to progress to the point where a jury is actually deliberating RICO is a doomsday scenario.

In addition to the Georgia prosecution, the cases against Trump include one in Manhattan over “hush money” paid to a porn star; a case filed in Florida federal court over his retention of classified documents; and a federal case in Washington, DC, for his role in the January 6 insurrectionist riot at the US Capitol and efforts to overturn the 2020 election. In total, Trump is facing 91 felony charges. He has pleaded not guilty to each one so far.

The indictment is the culmination of a political career that Trump built by ignoring checks and balances, mocking the law and the courts, and cheering on supporters who use violence in his name, including groups rooted in white nationalism and misogyny, prone to spontaneous and premeditated violence. More than 1,100 of his most committed supporters have been charged in the past 31 months with trying to physically stop Congress from certifying the results of the 2020 election. More than 80 of them have pleaded guilty to beating police officers who had ordered them to disperse. More than 140 officers were reportedly injured, and four of those would die by suicide within 200 days of the event.

These are not Trump's only casualties. Legal experts have long warned that Trump's personal brand of politics—acrimonious, wielding tools of harassment—while deceptively trivial in the face of actual death, millions in damages, and election interference—is corrosive to the very norms and conventions upon which the electoral process has long relied for stability. Prosecuting Trump may help distinguish lawful challenges in future elections from outright criminal acts. But even alone, his arrest has already made clear what norm-breaking behaviors the public will not condone—not now or in the future, regardless of the courts' own views.

In a 2018 book, Harvard University duo Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt put forward two criteria for the foundation of a healthy democracy: “social norms,” or unwritten codes of conduct upon which the people generally agree. The Trump administration, by the end of its first year, had managed to violate both with a quotidian efficiency. Levitsky and Ziblatt’s norms included “mutual tolerance” and “institutional forbearance.” The latter describes the need for politicians to show restraint in the exercise of their authority; not to gain the upper hand and immediately use that power to obliterate one’s rivals. “Think of democracy as a game we want to keep playing indefinitely,” they write.

Nothing in this century has done more to stamp out the mutual toleration of Americans than the presidency of Donald Trump. His strategy of painting political rivals as illegitimate and un-American has—for the better part of a decade—chipped away at social and democratic norms that titans of jurisprudence have—for more than a century—called indispensable to a functioning democracy. By the time President Joe Biden took office, the Washington Post had cataloged a decidedly pathological 30,000 false or misleading claims uttered by his predecessor. The Trump administration's ever-broadening palette of ethics violations caused Americans to realize, perhaps for the first time on a national scale, that truly there are few if any laws against some of the most basic forms of corruption; that, instead, conventions and norms—an honor system, essentially—is all that stand between presidents and the gross abuse of their power.

Americans typically point to the US Constitution as the pinnacle of their legal system. Many modern legal theorists, and even the nation’s own founders, painted the concept of state authority in a different light. The Genevan philosopher Rousseau considered la volonté générale, or the “general will” of the people, the only legitimate source of state power. American revolutionaries believed that only laws written with the “consent of the governed” could be considered legitimate. Thomas Jefferson once said the only “fountain of power” is the people, and that only “from them” is power derived. Regarding politicians who believe “supreme power” resides in constitutions, early US Supreme Court justice James Wilson suggested they had perhaps neglected to consider, “with sufficient accuracy, our political system.”

Consequently, democratic institutions are effectively incapable of restraining elected autocrats by their own volition. Without robust norms, traditional checks and balances often prove useless. “The tragic paradox of the electoral route to authoritarianism,” write Levitsky and Ziblatt, “is that democracy's assassins use the very institutions of democracy—gradually, subtly, and even legally—to kill it.” The Georgia case yanks Trump and his associates out of the squishy realm of “norms violations” and drops them into the cold, hard box of criminality. The best argument for prosecuting Trump under RICO is that it seemingly leaves jurors room to consider both.

The prosecutions of Trump will do nothing to patch America’s deep partisan divide, of course. Legal scholars reasonably believe it will only further inflame hostilities and erode trust in US institutions. Republicans have meanwhile launched an aggressive PR campaign based on the notion of “letting voters decide.” But relying on the vote, rather than jurors who are obligated to consider evidence and draw inferences from facts alone, could itself create a new norm anathema to democratic values. Prosecution was not the first choice. But every other lever that might’ve been pulled to stop and counteract the damage wrought by Trump was left in its place; particularly by Republicans, who’ve never actually been deprived of the means or opportunity to hold the de facto leader of their party accountable. Relying on the very system that Trump previously poured tens of millions of dollars into destroying feels otherwise, at best, like a nation fulfilling a death wish.

For American democracy to thrive, or retain any semblance of the legitimacy it has left, the prosecutorial systems, judges, and jurors in New York, Georgia, Florida, and Washington must grind forward. The law may not always prevent people from profiting off the wrongs they commit. But it cannot be denied outright the chance to decide whether they're stripped of their ill-gotten gains.

Laws are ultimately made “real” by the people against whom they’re imposed, including state officials, who, unlike private citizens, cannot scrape by merely obeying the law. Were judges, legislators, and even presidents to consider only themselves, ignoring the actions of their supervisors, subordinates, and peers, the validity of the legal system—and eventually the system itself—would fall apart. The English legal theorist H. L. A. Hart once wrote that among the "necessary and sufficient” criteria for the existence of a legal system is the requirement that public officials consciously adopt common standards of behavior and “appraise critically their own, and each other’s deviations as lapses.”

For some observers, the concept of "norms violations" during Trump's presidency became erroneously interlinked with the perceived failures of federal oversight officials, mostly by people unaware they were a phantom bulwark all along. A lack of coherence in the mainstays of democracy during Trump’s initial years left too many too focused on the absence of criminal charges, even though equally essential but far less defensible democratic norms were being whittled into dust. Where criminals have laws and courts to contend with, and are beyond the public’s own power to prosecute, social norms are injusticiable—outside the realm of the law, defined by people, their values, and beliefs.

And it’s no secret. The only fleshed-out directive revealed thus far to be implemented by Trump’s hypothetical follow-up presidency aims to see more than 50,000 bureaucrats and civil servants fired in an effort to insulate Trump from legal scrutiny and shield him from potential prosecution down the line. Groups of lobbyists have, according to Axios’ Jonathan Swan, already compiled their “extensive” lists of individuals believed loyal to the president and who fill those ranks instead. This plan is notably the opposite of the restraint on which Levitsky and Ziblatt place so much significance in the upkeep of a healthy and functioning democracy.

[choicesarehard]

Family Traditions

For the Forty One Days of Cheer Challenge

[argylemnwrites]

Gifts and Games

Pairing: Levi Schuler x MC (Tara Day)

Book: Mother of the Year (about one month after the end)

Word Count: ~1500

Rating: PG (some mild innuendo)

Summary: Levi hadn’t had a reason to celebrate any holidays for a long time.

Author’s Note: Alright, started off Hanukkah with a Seth piece, let’s end it with a piece featuring my newest Jewish LI, Levi. Just starting to dabble in some MOTY fic here. I loved that book a lot and found all the LIs really compelling, so even though it’s a standalone, I’m still gonna play around with these characters. This piece is for Day 29 of both the Choices December Challenge (Sunset) and Day 30 of 41 Days of Cheer (Celebration) because I am unabashedly working time zones to my advantage here.

Levi hadn’t played dreidel in years. Nah, scratch that. It had been several decades. That fact made him feel older than the fact that he was at a point in his life where dating a woman with a 10 yo kid was a reasonable thing ever did.

Honestly, Levi had never really felt that connected to his faith. If someone had pushed him on it, he’d have to say he really didn’t believe in anything spiritual or religious. Being Jewish to him was more about his connection to his family, and as he got older, he knew he’d gotten more and more disconnected there. It was just strange, being the unmarried, intermittently unemployed uncle, so often, he’d chosen to work instead of going to his grandmother’s for any of the holidays.

But when Zoey had asked him about Hanukkah across the dinner table the other night, he’d been caught off guard. She was so genuinely curious, because of course that smart little nerd wanted to know everything.

“Levi, you’re Jewish, right?” she’d asked between bites of spaghetti.

“Yeah, why are you asking, Rocket?”

“Well, we were learning about winter holidays in my world cultures class, and Ensley was talking about how she got the new iPhone for Hanukkah, and I was just wondering if you celebrated Hanukkah or not. I’ve never been Jewish or anything, so I don’t know exactly how it works.”

Levi had swallowed his mouthful of spaghetti before he answered, “Uh, I haven’t really celebrated Hanukkah in a few years.”

“Why not?”

“Haven’t had anyone to celebrate with, I guess.”

“Do you have to be Jewish to celebrate Hanukkah? Because we could celebrate with you, right mom?”

Tara had locked eyes with him, clearly trying to make sure he was okay with Zoey’s plan. They hadn’t really talked about his background, so he was grateful that she was trying to gauge his feelings about the topic, but he honestly didn’t care. If Zoey wanted to try out Hanukkah, who was he to throw a fit about that? So he’d shrugged and given Tara a little smile. And that’s how he found himself on the floor around the coffee table now, playing a game of dreidel with the two of them.

“So, all you do is spin the top? That’s it?” asked Zoey, a skeptical look on her face that was almost comical.

“That’s it, Rocket.”

She frowned at that, “But there’s no strategy then. It’s all just luck.”

“Yup.”

“Huh, that’s kinda boring.”

“Zoey!” chided Tara, shooting a look at her daughter, “Don’t be rude. You were the one who wanted to celebrate Hanukkah, remember?”

Zoey bit her lip and looked down before glancing up at Levi. “Sorry, Levi. I didn’t mean to say your game was boring. I’m sure it will be a lot of fun.”

Levi just shrugged, “No worries, Rocket. I didn’t make the rules.”

And so they’d started a game, using some leftover rocket parts as their pieces, passing around the little top and taking their turns. But after about 50 rounds, Levi could sense not only Zoey getting antsy, even though she was trying her damnedest to sit still and stay interested, but Tara was also frequently checking the time on her phone when she thought no one was looking. Levi honestly couldn’t blame them. He’d forgotten how long and dull dreidel games could be. In fact, he was impressed that Zoey had stuck with it as long as she had. 

“Hey, Rocket?”

“Yeah, Levi?”

“I think you’re right. This is a boring game.”

Zoey blinked at him before giving him a bright smile. Tara just shook her head.

“It’s not that bad, Levi.”

“Nah, you don’t have to pretend. I totally forgot how long this could drag on. I don’t know how I had the patience for it as a kid. So what do you say, kiddo? Should we call it?”

Zoey looked between him and Tara, who gave her a slight nod. Zoey paused for just a second longer before nodding, “If that’s okay with you guys.”

“Completely fine with me,” said Levi, “It’s just a little game to pass the time, anyway.”

“Thanks, babe,” said Tara, squeezing his shoulder as she stood up, wandering into the kitchen to check on the frozen lasagna she had in the oven. Not exactly traditional Hanukkah food, but hey, nothing about him or Tara’s life was exactly traditional.

Levi hefted himself off the floor and onto the couch, watching as Zoey much more nimbly hopped up and took a seat on the couch next to him. 

“Is there something else we could do to celebrate Hanukkah?” she asked him as she crossed her legs beneath her on the couch.

Levi paused for a moment, trying to think of what he could share with her. He wasn’t sure if any of the chocolate he had was safe for her, and handing out candy right before dinner seemed like a great way to annoy Tara. He didn’t own a menorah. Suddenly, an idea hit him.

“Did your world cultures teacher tell you about the reason we celebrate Hanukkah?”

Zoey nodded proudly, “Yup! It’s because after the Maccabees fought and reclaimed their temple from the Syrians, they only had one jar of oil for light. They sent out someone to get more oil, and when he got back eight days later, that tiny jar of oil was still burning.”

“Exactly. That’s why we celebrate after sunset and usually light candles. Basically, a lot of the shi… stuff Jewish people do to celebrate Hanukkah focuses on oil or light. And I bet you have something squirreled away in your bedroom that uses some oil.”

Zoey chewed on her lip for a couple of seconds before she answered, “Well, the engine kit I got from Luz and Thomas for Christmas uses oil, but that’s a different type of oil.”

“Well, I say the type of oil doesn’t matter one bit. So what do you say, how about we work on that after dinner?”

She grinned brightly at him. “I’ll go get things ready,” she said as she climbed off the couch and bounded into her room.

“Only five minute until dinner!” cried out Tara, “And you need to wash your hands before then!”

Some muffled sounds of agreement drifted out of Zoey’s room. Deciding to see if Tara needed any help, Levi strolled over to the kitchen. “How can I be of assistance?”

Tara glanced up from the green beans see was stirring on the stove top. “The bread could use slicing. It’s on top of the fridge.”

“On it.”

As he grabbed a cutting board from the cabinet and the serrated knife from the drawer, Tara spoke again, grabbing the oven mitts and pulling the lasagna from the oven.

“Quite the history lesson I got there. All I knew about Hanukkah prior to tonight I learned from Adam Sandler.”

Levi laughed at that, “Chanukah Song or Eight Crazy Nights?”

“Both, of course! It’s a shame it’s the last night, though. Otherwise we could have had eight crazy nights of our own.”

Levi turned to face her at that, stepping closer so that they were practically touching. “That is a shame. I guess we’ll really have to make tonight count, then,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows comically. Tara smirked at him at that, but any response she might make was cut off as Zoey bounded into the room.

“Hands all washed, Mom,” she said, walking into the kitchen and grabbing three sets of silverware out of the drawer as she went to set the table, oblivious to what she’d just interrupted.

“Levi’s just finishing up slicing the bread, then we’ll be all set,” said Tara, stepping away from him, turning back to the stove, and grabbing the green beans to drain. He had to marvel at her ability to go from sexy as hell to mom mode without missing a beat, but as she brushed past him, she oh so casually dragged her hand across the front of his jeans, throwing him a wink.

Levi just shook his head, grateful that he had a few moments of slicing the bread to redirect his thoughts, calm down enough to get back in the family mindset. Compartmentalizing was something he was getting better at since he started seeing Tara, but she was still infinitely better at it than him. Probably because she had years of experience compared to his few months. And while with other girlfriends, an innuendo-laced conversation like that would have led to a burnt and late dinner, Levi honestly didn’t mind having to wait until Zoey was in bed. Tara was worth it. They both were worth it. So he sliced the bread and joined his two favorite girls at the dinner table. He never thought this would be his life, but it was amazing how comfortable it felt. It felt nice, and honestly - it was probably the best holiday gift he’d ever received.

Permatag: @mfackenthal   @lilyofchoices @thequeenofcronuts @jamesashtonisbae

Mother of the Year:  @sunnyxdazed @octobereighth

Levi x MC: @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl

Events: @choicesbyjade @jlpplays1-41daysofcheerchallenge @choicesdecemberchallenge​

[alj4890]

Christmas Prompt

(Thomas x Amanda) with the given prompt from @jlpplays1-41daysofcheerchallenge​​ for black and white

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) in a Christmas one shot

A/N I had something planned for this movie for our RCD Appreciation Week, but ended up going with another. Using it for @jlpplays1 41 Days of Cheer Challenge seemed meant to be. This isn't a part of my AU's though I had considered Thomas and Amanda meeting under simliar circumstances in Another Night, Another Dream storyline. Still, I am a sucker for fluff and first impressions. So here we go again.

Above image taken from the 1940 holiday classic Remember the Night and I do spoil most of it in this. Sorry!

@lxaah11​ @alleksa16​ @penguininapinktuxedo​ @blackcoffee85​ @stopforamoment​  @hopefulmoonobject​  @krsnlove​   @annekebbphotography​ ​ @cora-nova​ @bella-ca​ @hopelessromantic1352​. @sunflowergirl05​ @desiree-0816​ @greywitchyshots​ @lilyofchoices​ @emceesynonymroll​ @dr-nancy-house​ @aworldoffandoms @ab1901 @pixieferry @lolablackwrites  @flyawayboo @i-bloody-love-drake-walker. @trappedinfandoms @kate-mckenzie

Masterlist

The Theater

Amanda settled into the red cushioned seat and set her soda down in the cupholder. She pulled up on the tab to open her box of Junior Mints and glanced around. She couldn't believe that hardly anyone was here for the holiday movie marathon.

When she told those back home in Cordonia that she was traveling to Los Angeles specifically to attend this week of nothing but classics from silent era to ending with 1954's White Christmas, none had volunteered to come with her. 

"If I'm going to California, I want to sightsee and party with the stars...not attend some tiny theater for old movies." Maxwell had reluctantly admitted when she voiced her surprise that he didn't want to go.

Everyone else pleaded with her to do something else. After all, she had only seen it advertised on the theater’s website.

“What if it isn’t in a safe area of the city?” Liam asked. “You will be alone, late at night in what could be a dangerous area.”

“Why are you spending money to see movies you have seen a hundred times before?” Drake rolled his eyes at her explanation of experiencing it in a movie theater.

"It's the week before Christmas." Olivia had argued. "You should be here with us where you belong, not alone in some strange city watching movies you already own on blu ray.”

When it came to things that she truly loved, Amanda's stubborn streak made itself known. They all shook their heads. If she had to have one crazy weird attribute, willing to travel for movies might not be the worst thing she could have.

And here she was on her third evening, ready to watch the first half of the 1940's classics. The evening was beginning with Remember the Night.

Amanda adored this particular one. She could remember when her mother first shared this movie with her when she was nine years old. It had been late one night when neither could sleep. They had cuddled under a blanket and only had the Christmas tree lights on.

She had fallen hard for Fred MacMurray's portrayal of John Sargent from the very beginning. His sarcastic, dry humor mixed with his gruff, morally right persona had hidden what was later revealed to be a very tender heart toward those he loved.

Barbara Stanwyck's con artist/thief was just the right person to shake him up. Of course, he managed to open her eyes and smooth out her understandable rough due to circumstances edges.

Their love story had all the elements from humor to bittersweetness. The perfect movie made even more so because it was set during a snowy Christmas and New Year's.

Amanda had secretly searched a long time for her tall, dark, and handsome Fred MacMurray/John Sargent. Most of the men she thought might be the one seemed to be lacking that one key element that made him so desirable: the tender heart. She had recently given up that long held dream. The man simply did not exist in the real world.

"I was born in the wrong time period." Amanda would say to herself each time she watched this. "That's why I can't find anyone like him."

She shook herself out of these unhappy thoughts and watched as John argued against dismissing the case of Barabara Stanwyck's character, Lee.

________________

She's back, Thomas thought when he saw the same woman come in by herself and take the exact same seat she had the past two nights. She had another box of candy and soft drink, just like she had each other time. She laid her jacket on the seat next to hers and he knew from observing her the other times that she would end up using it as a cover around the second hour of the movie marathon.

He settled more comfortably in his own chair further back. Seeing her dedication in supporting this small, independent theater made him not lose hope in people knowing and enjoying these classics. He had tried to encourage his film students to come and had even played around with the idea of offering extra credit. He decided against it in the hopes they would come simply because of what these old black and white movies contained: emotional storytelling at its finest.

There was no CGI nor any enhanced techniques. No method acting. Nothing except a story acted out with the sheer talent to draw one within the imagined world and make the individual wish they could remain.

Something about these black and white movies made the winters and snowfall seem even more shiver worthy. Knowing it was all done on a soundstage, made it even more impressive.

He was surprised that his attention continued to stray to the woman sitting a few rows ahead of his and a couple of seats over to the left. He had looked forward to seeing the movies he actually owned on various discs on the large screen.

"I was born in the wrong time period." He would mutter when reading about the golden age of film. To be a part of the beginning of not only sound in films, but also during a time of discovering a wealth of talent in actors and screenwriters, would have been a dream come true. A dream to be able to feel that excitment of making movies was something he was in desperate need of.

He had gotten burned out. After filming The Last Duchess, he felt empty. Nothing had sparked his creativity. Nothing made him want to jump back into the director's chair and bring a story to life. He felt like he was teetering on the edge of something about to happen in his life...something life changing. He hoped whatever it was would happen soon.

Being unable to sit back and wait patiently for the mystery life changing event to happen, he had decided to return to his second love of teaching. It had been going well the last few semesters. There was only one drawback to this. He didn't know quite what to do with himself now that he was on winter break.

He shook himself from the quagmire of his depressing thoughts and focused on the scene of John offering to take Lee to her mother's home in Indiana on his way to see his own.

______________

Amanda laughed at the scene of John's irritation and resulting sarcasm while dealing with the small town judge. She could hear a deep laugh somewhere behind her. She supposed it was the same lone man that had been here the last few nights.

He shares my sense of humor, she thought. Hearing that laugh didn't make her feel quite so alone in the theater. She had never minded being on her own. There were many times that she loved to escape the nobles and her friends for a needed breather. Yet something about the holiday season made being alone seem...well...lonely.

She needn't be. Amanda had a wonderful life. One day she would meet someone to share it with. It might not be her dream man that was currently on the screen, but he would be perfect for her.

_____________

Thomas watched the lone woman dig in her purse for a tissue. She had been moved to tears over how cruel Lee's mother was and how sweet John had been to tell her he was taking her to his childhood home for Christmas.

He wracked his memories and realized he couldn't recall the last time he witnessed a woman of today crying over a black and white movie of yesterday. Perhaps I've been around the wrong women, he thought.

He wished he could see the expression on her face caught up in the bittersweet emotion. What had made her cry? Was it simple pity for the heroine of the movie? Did it remind her of something from her own past? Was it John's actions that set off her tears?

He grimaced and tried to keep his attention strictly on the movie.

________________

Amanda sighed at that ending. To make such a choice...could I do that if I had been Lee?

"I must be a horrible person." Amanda mumbled as she gathered her things. She planned on getting a refill before The Shop Around the Corner started.

"Why do you think you're horrible?"

She turned around in surprise. "Oh!" Amanda stared at the famous man who had been the only other one in the theater tonight. "I..." Her smile held hints of self-depreciation. "I don't know if I could leave John and willingly plead guilty to my crimes. I would be tempted to marry him like he wanted and allow him to pull all the tricks to make the jury side with me."

Thomas nodded. "Yes, it would be difficult. I believe though that nowadays the heroine would probably do that very thing."

Amanda's grin reappeared. "Now that we no longer have the Hays Office making certain the wicked paid for every action, I imagine that someone would rewrite this to Lee not only being claimed innocent but that John was evil to continue to serve as prosecutor.”

His eyes widened. "You know about the Hays Office?"

"Of course." She stepped out into the aisle. "I love film history."

He followed her out into the lobby. "You're not leaving yet, are you?"

She turned around once more in surprise. "No. I was going to get a refill."

He hesistated a moment. Thomas couldn't help but notice that not only could she keep up intelligently conversation wise, but he also found her attractive. "Would you care to sit with me during the next film?"

"I don't know if we will be able to find two seats together with such a crowd." She teased.

He chuckled softly. "If I am able to find two side by side..." Thomas trailed off and waited.

Amanda lowered her eyes and grinned. "Then I would appreciate you saving me a seat."

______________

A few movies later and at a small nearby diner...

"Do you have any particular recommendations?" Amanda asked as she picked up the menu.

"All of the pies here are some of the best around." Thomas lifted his own menu, yet continued to glance at her over it.

She smiled when the waitress approached.

"What can I get you and your lady friend to drink, Professor?" The middle aged, slightly tired woman asked.

He nodded toward Amanda to go first.

"Iced tea, please." She replied.

"Coffee." He added.

"Are you ready to order or do you need another moment?" She asked.

"I am, are you?" Thomas asked.

Amanda grinned. "Go ahead. I make decisions for food better under pressure."

He chuckled. "Apple pie a la mode."

The waitress turned to Amanda.

"I'll have the same." She decided at the last moment.

Once they were alone, Thomas folded his arms on the table. "I have a question that has been driving me mad most of the night."

Amanda lifted an eyebrow. "Oh? And what might that be?"

"During Remember the Night, you were crying. Why?"

Her cheeks turned a little red under his steady regard. The Thomas Hunt wanted to know why she had teared up. She still couldn't believe his interest in her thoughts. Granted it wasn't like anyone else had been there to steal his attention away from her. She might as well enjoy it for what it was: a once in a lifetime opportunity. They had spent most of their time sitting next to each other in the theater, talking and pointing out various aspects of the scenes they loved in the movies they had seen so far.

"Everything about that scene when John and Lee go to her childhood home hurts. When you compare it to the first glimpse of John's it really strikes you at the differences." She explained.

"How?" He asked, wanting to hear more of her thoughts.

Amanda leaned forward as she went further into detail. "Take the lighting for example. Lee's home is cast in shadows. No lights are on inside that we can see, welcoming anyone approaching with warmth. John's had lamps shining like a lighthouse, beckoning one to safety from the cold. Lee's mother and stepfather didn't bother to step out on the porch or even invite them inside from the cold. The single light near the mother cast harsh shadows, adding even more to the foreboding sense that no love would be awaiting the prodigal daughter. John's had family coming out into the cold, wanting to hug and hurry them inside to warm up. Current joy at seeing him again and memories of happiness waited inside that bright house."

He listened to her silently in complete agreement. He marveled at her ability to cut right to the aesthetic of the two instead of focusing in on the dialogue. The words spoken were of course moving in terms of emotion, yet for her to point out something he tried to do for his students made him want to talk to her even more.

"Here you go." The waitress set their plates and drinks in front of them. "Has my nephew been behaving himself?"

Thomas nodded. "He has been doing very well this past semester. You should be proud of him."

The tiredness left the woman's face hearing that. "You really think he has a future in cinematography, Mr. Hunt?"

"I do." He said a bit gruffly. "I recommended him for a scholarship." He picked at his pie. "You should receive the letter soon about the approval."

"You mean--" the waitress teared up and tried to get the words out. "Thank you. This...this means the world to us."

He waived off her thanks. "His talent and your tenacity is what did this. I had no part in it."

She turned to Amanda who was observing their interaction quietly. "Don't let him fool you. He had everything to do with giving my Brandon his dream future."

The young lady realized that her suspicions were correct. There was a good deal more to the famous director than what he decided to reveal to the outside world. 

Thomas cleared his throat and avoided eye contact. The waitress poured his coffee and left them alone.

Amanda picked up her fork and took a bite. "You were right. The pie here is very good." She noticed relief flood his features over the attention no longer being on his kindness.

"I'm glad you agree." He took a bite of his own. "Are you planning on attending any of the other nights at the theater?"

"All of them, actually." She grinned at him. "It was why I decided to come to Los Angeles for a visit."

"I see." His brow furrowed with thought. "I plan on attending the whole week also."

She reached for the sugar packets to add to her glass of tea while waiting to hear what he would say next.

"If you are planning on being there and I am, then perhaps we could go together." Thomas looked at her over his coffee cup to gage her reaction.

"I would like that." Amanda said with a hint of color to her cheeks. "Then perhaps we could talk about the movies over pie."

His lips curved into a soft smile. "I would like that."

_____________

Last night of the holiday classics...

"Thank you, Thomas, for making this week so enjoyable. I have loved our discussions each night." Amanda kissed his cheek on impulse outside the theater.

He took her hand and cleared his throat. "I have enjoyed it also." He looked down at their fingers laced together. "When do you leave for Cordonia?"

"Day after tomorrow." She said, wishing time had not gone by so quickly.

His frown formed. "Must you go so soon?"

Her eyebrows lifted. "I suppose I don't necessarily have to." She pushed the strands of hair back that were determined to remain in her face as a breeze blew. "Christmas is a few days away though."

"You could spend the holidays here, if you would like...with me." Thomas tugged her close and slowly captured her lips in a tender kiss.

She was rooted to the sidewalk in shock over him kissing her. She had hoped he would. But as each night ended without one, she assumed he wasn't attracted to her. Now, though...

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into another more active kiss. She smiled against his lips when his hands slipped in her hair, encouraging the kiss to go on.

When it ended, she took a brief moment to gather her thoughts. "Perhaps I could stay until after New Year's, if you would like me to."

Thomas held her pressed against him and brushed his lips against hers. "I can't think of anything more I would like."

_______________

3 years later in that same theater...

"Would you like any Junior Mints?" Thomas asked, helping her off with her coat.

Amanda set her hand on her very distended belly and shook her head. "I don't believe our baby shares my love for peppermint and chocolate." She slowly lowered herself in the seat and sighed. "I can't believe you thought of coming here again."

He sat down next to her and placed his arm along the back of her seat. "I thought it might be nice to relive the night we met that led to this." He placed his hand on her stomach, smiling softly at the movement he felt.

She laughed while looking around the empty theater. "Seems to be the same crowd as was before."

"That is my doing." He explained. "I rented the entire theater just for us."

"You did?" Her smile turned tender.

He nodded, presssing a kiss to her lips. "And I have the same movies as before."

She rested her head on his shoulder and thought back to that night. "I didn't expect to end up staying here when I first came."

"I'm grateful my powers of persuasion worked so well." He gently rubbed her tense back while thinking of when he first approached her.

After spending the holidays together, he had received a script that had reinvigorated his passion for directing. He returned to Cordonia to film it and to spend more time getting to know Amanda. On the night of his new movie's premiere, he asked her to marry him. A few months after that they were on their honeymoon.

Now here they were, anxiously awaiting the arrival of their own classic film lover, who was already a week overdue in making his or her appearance.

As Remember the Night began, Thomas pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I am very thankful I met you that night."

Amanda sat up and held her stomach. "Meeting you was quite a surprise, though I believe tonight's might give it a run for its money."

His brow furrowed. "Why is that?"

She looked up at him with an excited smile. "My water just broke."

[waytooattuned]

Uuuggghhh thee are perfect!

(I love how Griffin is right in the middle where his fine ass belongs😌)

*Click on them for best quality!..otherwise they are quite blurry 🙈🙈 I hope you like them!!

More of my Royal Romance drawings//edits//writing here : @jlpplays1editsroyalromance 💖

More The Elementalists here : @jlpplays1editstheelementalists

💌 41 Days of Cheer Challenge : @jlpplays1-41daysofcheerchallenge

It sure was so fun to mix and match the outfits like this! Shreya’s was the hardest to re-shape because of the hand on the hip, lol. All of these are the original bodies of the characters I reshaped the clothes to work for their sprites 💞Anyways these are my all-time favorite books, although it’s really hard to choose because I love so many. The Elementalists and Royal Romance gang will always hold a special place in my heart 💞

Reblog if you Save?

[ladykateofledfordpark]

An edit inspired by Day 1 of the “41 Days of Cheer” challenge hosted by @jlpplays1 under the profile @jlpplays1-41daysofcheerchallenge !

Day 1 Prompt: Black and White

This is basically a poster for a movie based on Hayden and MC’s love story, because Hayden deserves more love! <3 

Tagging fellow Hayden stans: @universallypizzataco @ellieschoices and @mariaoz . <3

[szaszzle]

The Question

AKA Vic Sage

AKA Charles Victor Szasz

Age: 41

Height: 6′1

Hair color: Naturally red, when masked up dark brown

Eye color: Dark brown

Personal Style: He is either a fashion icon or a fashion disaster, everyone is entitled to their own opinion

Alias: The Question. The face-less vigilante of Hub City Ranked #1 in Travilocity’s “10 Cities In America You Absolutely Do NOT Ever Want to Visit”. The Questions prowls the streets and hovels abandoned by the police searching for answers. His home town is a trash heap, but someone’s gotta keep an eye on it right?

The Question’s costume hinges on a material called pseudoderm, created by an old professor of Vic’s. This skin like substance sticks to his face, triggered by an aerosol spray which also temporarily changes the color of his hair and clothes rendering the perfect disguise. The sheet of fake skin cannot be taken off without the aerosol spray so to most people this urban legend of a face-less vigilante is hella fucking creepy!

Background:

Born and raised in an orphanage, Charles Victor Szasz grew up bullied by fellow kids, abused by the nuns sanctioned to take care of him, and generally incredibly pissed off. His naturally over extended curiosity, and aggressive disposition got him in oodles of trouble growing up, getting caught up in cycles of sticking his nose where it did not belong, disproportionate punishment, and reactionary anger.

Charlie got out of Hub City based on his only saving grace, his keen intelligence. A full ride for university in Chicago, on track for a journalism major shocking many who did not believe Charlie would ever amount to anything. Despite getting out his affinity for trouble followed the young man. He did not fit in with the prestigious and pretentious, standing out among his peers, looking very much like something gnawed on and spit out (half digested) by the infamous Hub City.

One friendly face was found in a philosophy professor, Aristotle “Tot” Rodor, who saw potential in Charlie. Tot did his best to nudge Charlie on the right track, but alas, this was a challenge easier said than done for this willful and spirited student. In the second semester of his junior year Charlie was expelled from the college for beating up a professor in the middle of a lecture– the guy had been asking for it with his bigoted rhetoric as he shanelessly harassed Charlie based on classist ignorance, something in the young man snapped. Despite the attempts of Professor Rodor to speak in defense of his favorite student, the board of education deemed Charlie’s behavior unacceptable and gave him the boot. The ignorant professor of course was allowed to stay on though he “graciously” agreed not to press any charges.

Was a lesson learned?

Hell no.

Charles Victor Szasz popped his collar, flipped academia the bird, and kept on keeping on.

Changing his name to Vic Sage, and with the cheer tenacity of a Hub City asshole broke his way through in independent reporting. Vic Sage made a lot of enemies with his determination to deliver hard cold facts no matter what. Though many scoffed off his reports as outlandish conspiracy theories, others threatened to sue him for defamation as he often dragged the names of many big wigs through the mud, he grew a loyal following who knew when Vic Sage delivered the news it was at the expense of everyone who got in the way of the truth.

As he grew more famous it became more difficult for Vic to conduct his “investigations” which often involved strategies not necessarily deemed legal by the eyes of the law. So Tot (still in touch from university days) offered Vic a solution in terms of his old invention created as a type of bandage. He didn’t necessarily agree with Vic’s approach, but he still wanted the kid to be safe. “Pseudoderm” would allow Vic to hide his face, and keep him anonymous as he went about gathering information– going about calling himself “The Question” when asked.

The anonymity emboldened Vic to take it a step further, employing the scrappy street fighting techniques he’d been forced to learn growing up in Hub City, The Question became something of a vigilante, sparring a moment to beat up bad guys who got in the way of his pursuit for answers.

With this new reputation and alias acquired, Vic returned to Hub City to try and shed light on the many corrupt dealings that continued to drag his home town under.

The Death of Vic Sage:

In order to reach untapped potential, Vic had to die first to trigger a metamorphosis.

Over confident and meddlesome as always, Vic, dressed as The Question stuck his nose where it didn’t belong. A woman named Lady Shiva had been hired by Vic’s current targets of investigation. This woman not only bested Vic in hand to hand combat- fighting unlike anything Vic had ever encountered before –but she killed him and callously threw his body in a frozen lake.

And yet. Vic did not die?

He awoke in a cabin far from civilization under the care of a man who called himself Richard Dragon. Dragon explained that Shiva chose to pull Vic out of the water and bring him back here for healing? Why she did so, was unclear, but if Shiva saw some sort of potential in Vic then Dragon felt inclined to honor that call. He took it upon himself to whip Vic (first reluctant) into shape.

Spending several months with Dragon, healing, and training mentally and physically, Vic emerged from this experience a new man. For one thing he learned a proper martial arts form from his new mentor, for another he was shown strategies to control that temper and emotions which so often ruled his actions.

When Vic returned to Hub City it was as an enlightened man.

Still annoying as fuck, but a new kind of annoying. The kind of annoying that quit smoking and took up yoga and meditation.

It’s tough to say which Vic is the real Vic. The patient and easy going smart ass with a new habit of finding troubled people and setting them on the right path. Or the Vic that still loses himself to anger on occasion, stubborn and set on delivering answers no matter the cost…