#I couldn't find any writing samples for him so I kind of just used the characterization you put down for him as a kick-off point

[writtengalaxies]

Apple Picking With Your Crew

Characters: Head Engineer, GN! Reader, Burt, Celci, Gunther

Word Count: 885

Spicy Rating: None. Just my hot takes about apples.

While some cultivars were brought from Earth, it was still several years too early for them to bear enough fruit to make what you, in your personal opinion, considered a proper apple orchard. However, the upside was that the planet had its own native fruit that had its own range of cultivars. As Captain, you didn't have any real authority about fruit uses, but as a civilian, you had opinions. And those opinions stretched to apples, and your childhood and years before the academy going to one of many apple orchards every fall. As it was, you only sampled some of these raw, and would need to seek out the perfect ones for baking to see if you could substitute some.

"Can't we just get...whatever? Does it have to be a specific taste?"

You turned, quirking an eyebrow at the gaggle of crew leads behind you. Burt wanted to come along to try and write poetry about the nature around you all. Gunther, for some reason, declared that you needed a security escort "in case things got spicy", whatever that meant. Celci wanted your honest opinions about the world around you, trusting the Captain's word above all.

At least, that's what they had said.

You know the real reason is to spy on you and Mark's date. Of course, you hadn't told them that's what it was, but after discussing it with him, you both agreed that it was better to have them obviously there than obviously spying.

"Yes," you said slowly, treating this as an opportunity for everyone. "You can't just take any apple and bake with it. Sweeter apples tend to be too soft, and go mushy. Tart ones hold up their form better, but too tart and you get sourness. The loose rule of thumb is that sweet apples are better for cider, tart are better for eating raw, and the ones that are somewhere in the middle are perfect baking. Little less sugar or honey, but still a firm shape that bakes evenly..."

"You...have some serious opinions on that, Cap'n." Gunther pushed his shades up, rolling the end of his cigar between his teeth.

"Of course they do! The Captain is pretty serious about a lot of things." Celci crossed her arms. It was still odd, getting used seeing her without the over-padded coveralls to keep her warm.

Burt nodded, offering some soft line of poetry from the back that you couldn't quite hear, but based on the sheer confusion on Gunther and Celci's faces, it might have been for the better. Mark just sighed, trying to carry the conversation on at your side.

"We don't have the same ones as back on Earth but...based on those, what's your opinion on the best for pie?"

"Well," you drag out the word, letting the other three either pay attention or keep whispering frantically to each other. "Personally? A Jonagold. Kind of close to that perfect balance of just right, brings out all the right things in a solid pie. Of course, your crust and proper spice ratios makes a huge difference too. A lot of people swear by Macintosh because they're pretty easy to get during the fall, but...eh, I don't really find a lot of flavor in them. A Macoun isn't bad either, that's my secondary if I can't get the other."

"What about eating?"

"Honeycrisp, hands down."

"Ain't that a cereal?" Gunther interrupted, flipping his sunglasses back down as he squinted at the local plants around you.

"I...didn't know there were that many kinds of apple," your head engineer admitted softly. He didn't like admitting he didn't know something, especially next to Celci. She, of course, scoffed, apologizing softly at your glance.

"There's close to 7,500 known variations," she continued, trying to not sound too smug, just as Mark was trying to keep the scowl off his face. "I not only took care of all the colonists, but the seed banks in cold storage, to make sure we could test for viable solutions, so I did my research."

"I've only had maybe a two dozen I've tried myself, but..." You trailed off, letting them all focus on you as you picked your way towards the copse of trees you had scouted out alone weeks ago. The fruits looked heavy, the red deeping so much it looked purple in all the places it wasn't a bright yellow-green. Perfect. "I grew up with access to a lot of apples. My adoptive grandparents...friends of my mom's, but they were just as loving even if I wasn't blood related. One of their kids grew cider apples, and they were the best. Big ones, too. 48 to a case, which is huge for apples. I remember my parents struggling to old one in one hand. Before I hit my first real big growth spurt, I remember needing both hands to eat one...super sweet too, like biting into it was just drinking cider."

You carry on, reminiscing about parts of your childhood, of your favorite orchards, and baked goods between teaching them all the right way to pick an apple and how to tell when they're ready. Thankfully you had already made sure that was the same.

By the time the four of you had picked enough apples for several pies, you found yourself promising to do this again next year. Your favorite tradition with a crew like this? Nothing could ever go wrong.

[kamikasei]

Changelings don't have pots

Odo had a bucket - for less than a third of Deep Space Nine's run.

He had a bucket for reasons specific to his character and backstory, to solve a problem which we only ever saw affect him.

He stopped using the bucket after he met other Changelings.

Odo used a bucket because he couldn't maintain his form indefinitely and had to revert to a liquid state every sixteen to eighteen hours. (I don't know that it was ever specified how long he had to remain liquid to properly rest.) I didn't realize until checking my facts for this that not only is he the only Changeling shown with this limitation, but there's backstage info clarifying that he's intended to be the only one who has it at all, possibly due to his youth, possibly for the same reasons he can't do faces quite right.

He used a bucket for this purpose because he had a messed up childhood being raised in a lab by a scientist who viewed him as a living experiment. His name means "unknown sample". He was a permanent outsider in an oppressive society who disdained the solids around him. He didn't need to eat, drink, sleep, wash, excrete, or satisfy any other physiological need besides regeneration, and he wasn't interested in wealth, possessions, or comfort - so he rested in a bucket in his office because he didn't need or want anything else. He tidied himself away to feel secure.

After he found his people and learned about his origins he set the bucket aside. He requested quarters and would regenerate by just flowing out and around freely. He overcame a bunch of limiting internal baggage and learned to be more himself. He used the bucket as a flower pot, and gave it to Kira as a memento before he left in the finale.

This makes it super weird that when Changelings show back up in Picard, not only do they all have the need to revert to liquid (which, fair enough, doesn't directly contradict anything, even if it's a pretty big handicap for their amazing infiltration operations), but the big tip Starfleet veterans circulate for how to find them is to look for the pot they all must have. A pot that looks similar to Odo's bucket, which apparently all Changelings keep around for when they regenerate. They can't just melt onto the floor for a bit or hide themselves in the sink or in any suitable empty container tucked out of sight to avoid detection - they need to regenerate, and they need a prop outside of themselves to rely on, and it's something visually distinctive and recognizable that they have to hide.

I can understand, from a production standpoint, wanting to give the crew something they could use to actually combat the Changelings, who as presented in DS9 would be too effective to easily write around. (Similarly, the "evolved" Changelings which have supposedly become more capable and harder to detect achieve this primarily by reproducing humanoid internal organs to defeat body scans - a limitation that makes no sense for DS9-era Changelings, who surely could not be detected as easily as going "well, does the tricorder say they have organs, or are they just a person-shaped blob of goo on the inside?", or just hoping no one thinks to set the transporter to warn if the people being transported aren't the species they're supposed to be. DS9 Changelings can turn into fire, into mist, into spacefaring organisms that can freely fly between the stars!) But...

What's with making a specific callout to DS9 nostalgia, in a story that talks about the end of the show and the Dominion War and the fallout of how that resolution went, but relying on an idea that only kind of works if you only remember the first two seasons, and even then doesn't make any sense in character regardless?

This might seem like needless nitpicking, but it really did take me straight out of the episode while watching it, as soon as they made the claim that every Changeling has a pot - "what? No they don't". It's not just a fiddly bit of continuity - it's a flatly incorrect assertion, which also completely reverses a small but important part of the arc of a major character being referenced. It turns Odo's bucket from a personal legacy of, essentially, childhood trauma which he outgrew, into an innate trait of his entire species. It's the uncanny valley of nostalgia: "remembering" something that didn't actually look like the thing being offered, like a memorial portrait of a loved one drawn by someone who's misremembering a description by someone else who never met them.

[lilithkeir]

✨️Short story using prompt book.

✨️Prompt: a writer with noisy neighbors. ✨️Things/words to incude in story: dentist,rainbow,explosion,horizon,cactus,palm,Saturday, latte,beets,sample.

My dentist appointment ran later than I had planned, and I started to panic, knowing that I had agreed to this Saturday as a deadline to get my boss a sample of my newest story. The days had started to blend more lately due to the lack of proper sleep I had been going without for months at that point. It started to set in that I only had the night to finish my work, and I knew I needed a better plan if I wanted any shot at doing that. First on my list was getting some kind of coffee with much more caffeine than my normal everyday latte.

After I ordered my strong but disgusting drink, I took it back to the bottom apartment of the duplex I had been renting for the last year or so. Most of my time there, I really didn't have much to complain about. That was until the last few months when two tenants finally moved into the long-time vacant upstairs.

They almost never came out of their apartment, but they seemed to have more and more people coming in and not leaving by the day. It sounded like someone there was always awake, playing wall rattling music, screaming, or jumping around enough to shake my ceiling. There was never a peaceful time, day or night, and it seemed to just get worse with time, despite all the complaints I had made to the landlord.

Eventually, I gave up on calling him partly because he wasn't picking up my calls anymore, and partly because he never seemed to improve the things I confronted him with anyway. I started to just try to adjust to the constant noise and chaos as best I could.

As I searched my kitchen for a late dinner, I heard the music above me start to grow louder. I quickly popped in my earbuds and frantically searched for some kind of calming meditation music that I could write to. I pulled a very stained Tupperware bowl out of my refrigerator and tossed it into my microwave to reheat the leftover beet and parmesan pasta that I tried the previous day to recreate from a video I had recently seen online.

The pasta satisfied my hunger, and I was able to get right to work. My plan was to pull an all-nighter and sleep tomorrow after I had given my boss what I promised him. Although my earbuds cut out most of the neighbors' noise. Every half hour or so, I would hear a shockingly loud bang I couldn't ignore, and my concentration would be completely broken. I tried again and again to just get back into my story, but with every break, my patience decreased, and my irritation increased.

As soon as I saw the sun start to peak over the horizon, I decided to get showered and dressed and go to a nearby Café to try and write there instead. I lived in New York at the time, and like a lot of people there, I didn't own a car, so I walked anywhere close by, and that included this café.

When I got out of my shower, I noticed that it had just finished raining, and I thought it best to take my umbrella to be on the safe side.

As I was exiting the apartment, I glanced up the stairs to see the neighbors entrance door shaking and some wild twisting of their doorknob occurring. It seemed weirder to me than normal, but I was so tired, and the only thing on my mind was making my deadline.

As I made my way down the street, I saw a double rainbow clearly forming in the distance. I had never seen one before then, and all I could do was stop and stare in awe and disbelief. I was quickly pulled out of my trance when I heard a woman's voice repeatedly saying, "Hey, Miss" somewhere nearby. I scanned my surroundings to find a small table and two stools on the other side of the street seating an older, blue-eyed woman, with completely silver hair down to her hips. As my eyes met hers, a stunning smile overtook her face, and she motioned for me to come closer.

I will be honest. I have never been one to pick up on bad vibes or intentions from people in the moment, and it has often led to me making less than wonderful choices in my life. Most people seeing this random woman on the side of the road, especially this early in the morning, would have left quickly without a second thought, but all I could think was, "it will only take a second. I can't just be rude to her. "

I jogged over to the woman's table and noticed a small potted cactus, a glass jar holding a few $5 bills and a sign that read "palm readings $5”. She calmly took my hand in hers and softly whispered, " $3 special for you today." I truly didn't know what to say to her. I am naturally socially awkward, and she wasn't exactly making it easier on me with her touching. I just replied with a dry "okay", sank down onto the empty stool and watched as she carefully started to examine my palm. Not even a minute had passed when I noticed her face turn pale, and she let out a loud gasp as she dropped my palm onto the table. My heart dropped from her response and before I could ask her if everything was alright, she grabbed my hand again, this time squeezing it much more intensely, "You have just avoided great tragedy! You have avoided torture and a horrid death!" she told me, gradually increasing the power in her voice as she spoke every word. Her reading terrified me to my core, and I got up as fast as I could manage and ran back toward my duplex, forgetting all about the plan I made to write at the Café.

Upon reaching my residence, I saw 10+ emergency vehicles, police officers everywhere, and yellow tape being banded all around the duplex. My fear turned into shock and concern when a young police officer told me I couldn't be there. " What do you mean? I rent the downstairs. I just left less than an hour ago, " I replied to him with confusion overtaking every part of me.

"Look, it can’t be your home right now, and I can't give you all the information yet, but since you do live here, I will tell you what I know I’m allowed. The two tenants renting the upstairs apartment killed at least 5 people while living up there, one being the landlord of this duplex. They also let off a small explosive, blowing through the floor and back wall of the building. By doing this, they were able to escape before authorities could safely make it inside to detain them. The bills here were a month behind, and they finally decided to send out officers when they noticed the landlord hadn’t returned any voice messages or been collecting his mail either. Who knows how many people could have gotten hurt if people in our country didn’t take money so seriously. Seems to me like you got lucky leaving when you did. Do you have any family you could go stay with for a bit?"

I couldn't answer the officer. I was frozen inside out, my shock swallowing any words I had ever known. All I could do was play the palm readers' final words to me back in my head. " You have avoided great tragedy. You have avoided torture and a horrid death!"

[carewyncromwell]

“A waltz when she walks in the room, She pulls back the hair from her face. She turns to the window to sway in the moonlight... Even her shadow has grace. A waltz for the girl out of reach, She lifts her hands up to the sky. She moves with the music; The song is her lover; The melody's making her cry... So she dances, in and out of the crowd, like a glance... This romance is from afar, calling me silently...”

~“So She Dances,” by Josh Groban

x~x~x~x

And to cap off my set of Valentine’s Day posts where I feature my MC’s and someone they care about...last but not least is my HPHL kelpie kid Ru! In the above picture, they’re pictured with Galen Stagg, who belongs to @cursebreakerfarrier, but this picture, this post, and this basic AF pencil test animation are actually about Ru’s relationship with their “keeper” and ttly-not-girlfriend Estrid Soelberg @that-ravenpuff-witch! (I wanted to overlay the two images, but the online sources I tried using to do so weren’t cooperating, so...eh. Here they are separately. XD)

When the kelpie who’d taken on the identity of the Ravenclaw student Rudolph Ollivander first encountered Estrid Soelberg, they did not like her. How could they, when it was because of her that they now wore a silver chain around their neck that she could use like a “leash” and keep them from transforming back into their true form and eating anything or anyone she disapproved of? Naturally Estrid didn’t care for Ru much either -- and really, considering that they nearly ate a first year, that also was pretty understandable. Over time, though, Estrid’s stance softened somewhat, upon realizing that there was an oddly sympathetic side to the carnivorous kelpie.

For one, Ru absolutely loved being at Hogwarts. It wasn’t obvious at first, given how laid-back and aloof they were, but their electric blue eyes were always bright and aware, never missing out on a single detail. Ru would spend hours and hours every day in the Hogwarts library, devouring every book they could. They would explore every corner of the castle grounds and memorize every shred of knowledge that came under their nose. They collected knick knacks and jewelry from Hogsmeade, even going so far as to pierce their ears in their third year, to the horror of all of the adults, both inside and outside of school. And this didn’t even touch on Ru’s great passion for history, magical creatures, Herbology, art, and especially photography. Their still Muggle photographs were always crystal clear and striking, from a view of the Black Lake taken from the Owlery to close-ups on the details of the winged boar statues near the front gates. Ru’s Muggle-style photography came alive in a way that magical photography -- which was still in its infancy and quite low in quality -- couldn’t capture. On the Christmas break of their third year, Ru also discovered and became very enamored with Muggle animation, which made crude drawings come to life -- Estrid, despite her best efforts, couldn’t bite back her laughter upon finding out that Ru had requested the permission of one of the snobbier girls in their year to use her as a model for an animation, only for the finished product to end up being of the girl picking her nose with her pinky finger.

As Estrid got to know Ru better, she decided to try showing them more compassion. For as inhuman as Ru was, and how eccentric, cold, and rude as they could be, their enrollment at Hogwarts truly didn’t seem to be motivated by anything malevolent -- it had truly just been the only way they saw for them to attend this school they’d been watching from afar and longed to see up close. And Estrid treating Ru with more respect and kindness, little by little, wore down Ru’s walls enough that they didn’t dislike her quite so much either. She not only was insightful enough to suss out that they didn’t like eating around other people and showed them the Hogwarts kitchens so that they’d have a place where they could eat in peace, but she didn’t see the need to fill the silence with worthless conversation the way so many of their classmates did. She could sometimes just let a moment be, let the emotions and time just rest for a while. With that, though, Estrid was actually a rather interesting person too, in her own way. She had her fair share of admirers for her appearance (which Ru acknowledged was decent enough, by human sensibilities), but she seemed actively disinterested and uncomfortable about it, instead being the type who was unafraid of being on her own. And yet despite this, Estrid truly wasn’t a loner like Ru was -- she had a gentle hand with creatures of all kinds, an artistic eye, and a soft smile that she rarely showed to much of anyone, but was always sincere. Most striking of all to Ru, though, was the way she moved when she danced. The way her limbs bent and stretched with such grace fascinated Ru. They wished they could slow down time sometimes, just to analyze every tiny little flick of her fingers or flourish of her ankle. Knowing that they couldn’t take enough pictures to capture the grace of her movements, and not yet having a camera that could take moving pictures, Ru settled on trying to animate Estrid. Most of the animations were very crude in the beginning, consisting of nothing but stick figures, but little by little, Ru studied the proportions of the human body (very different than that of a kelpie!) and tried to refine their technique. And before long, all of their animations ended up being modeled on Estrid some way or another -- the vast majority of them being her dancing ballet.

Another person who’d be in the room sometimes when Estrid was dancing was their yearmate Galen Stagg, who often practiced the piano while Estrid was dancing. Ru found the Gryffindor inoffensive for the most part -- like Ru and Estrid, he had a talent for Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures (Ru could sense that Galen in particular had a magical gift for communicating with creatures, even more than Ru themselves did, considering they were actually a kelpie), so sometimes the three of them would end up in the library studying at the same table before a test. Galen was a bit of pansy to Ru’s taste, given his dislike for conflict or confrontation, but he like Estrid was soft-spoken enough that he never gave Ru any real headaches.

One day while Estrid was dancing and Ru sat off on the sidelines (sitting with their legs crumpled up in such a manner that one could wonder if they’d ever learned how to cross their legs properly), Galen took a break from playing to come over and sit down next to the messily-dressed Ravenclaw on the floor. Although he himself really enjoyed drawing too, he’d always felt like Ru tolerated him more than liked him and so had been hesitant to ask Ru if he could see any of their artwork. This day, though, he finally mustered up the courage to ask.

“...May...may I see what you’re working on?”

Ru lowered the page they’d lifted to fine-tune and shot a look out the side of their eye at him.

“...It’s not finished,” they said bluntly.

“That’s all right!” said Galen self-consciously. “That is...I don’t mind, if it’s still sketchy.”

Ru considered him for a moment silently. Just when Galen opened his mouth, ready to say that Ru didn’t have to if they didn’t want to, the kelpie held their sketchbook out in one hand for Galen to take.

With a surprised, but relieved blink, Galen took it and looked at the top page. It was still only a cluster of loosely connected circles and ovals, but Galen could just barely make out what it was.

“It’s Estrid,” he realized, his jade-colored eyes lighting up. “Isn’t it?”

Ru nodded curtly, their gaze drifting off to watch Estrid at the barre.

“That’s just the last frame,” they said in a very low, nonchalant voice.

“Frame?”

“Of animation. Pick up the next eight pages and flip them one by one.”

Galen did so -- and to his delight, he watched as the little cluster of ovals and circles unfolded its arms and spread them in a graceful arc that flourished at the wrists.

“Wow, Ru,” said Galen, impressed, “it looks just like Estrid! I mean, the movement looks just like hers. You really captured the grace of her arms.”

Ru’s electric blue eyes swiveled absently in Galen’s direction, but they didn’t turn around or meet his eyes. Instead their gaze returned to Estrid as they brought up a hand and smoothed some of their long black hair behind their ear.

“...You reckon?” they asked, their quiet voice oddly contemplative.

Galen looked at Ru, surprised. Were they...blushing?

Feeling a wave of compassion for the Ravenclaw all of a sudden, Galen offered them a smile.

“...Yeah. It’s really nice, Ru. I’m sure it’ll be smashing when it’s done.”

Ru’s eyes stayed on Estrid, narrowing slightly.

“The way she moves...” they said lowly, “I’ve never seen anyone else move like that. Even other dancers. It...seems like something that shouldn’t just disappear into the void, when the moment is over...like everything does, sooner or later. I’ve tried to photograph her before, but it doesn’t capture the movement. Even when I take a lot of still pictures one right after another, or when I actively try to get shots that blur, it doesn’t work. And magical photographs...hmph! They’re an absolute joke. They deteriorate so easily, and their quality is atrocious.”

Galen smiled sympathetically. “Well, wizards really have only had them for a short while...I reckon they might need a little time to catch up, right?”

Ru scoffed loudly through their nose and mouth, sounding rather like an offended horse. “It’s pathetic.”

They rested their hands behind them on the floor, leaning back slightly.

“So...the only way I could try to capture the way she moves -- to make it last, past that moment, was to draw it. It’s not exactly easy to get her hands right, though,” they added sourly under their breath.

“Hands are every artist’s Achilles’s heel, I think,” said Galen with a quiet laugh.

His green eyes softened. “...You really care about Estrid a lot, don’t you?”

Ru’s face flushed a bit more darkly as they whirled on him with a glare.

“Don’t read too much into it, Stagg. I find her movements interesting. That’s all.”

Despite Ru’s denials, however, Galen thought to himself that Estrid was pretty lucky, to have someone in her life who’d put in so much effort to try to memorialize her in a lasting way. He wondered if Ru even realized just how sweet and selfless of an instinct that really was.

[morimakesfanart]

Sindria's Prophet #13

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

[AO3]

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

~POV Sinbad~

"The Kou Empire, huh?"

"That is going to make things risky."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

---

~POV Mori~

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

For obvious reasons, I was awake again.

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

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

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

Wait- Did this world have scissors???

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lunch came as the perfect break.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They all turned to look at where I was pointing.

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

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

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

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

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

"Lady Prophet."

I was pulled out of my thoughts.

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

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

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

And then they left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His voice was as pretty as he was.

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

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

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

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

[unwritten-ravenclaw]

Rescue - George Weasley

Summary: George rescues you from a creepy crawly

A/N: Inspired by real events, dramatised to make this lengthy enough to post. Except instead of a cute guy it was my mum who rescued me and I played Taylor Swift to stop freaking out and sleep. so yeah.

Warnings: arachnophobia, descriptions of a spider, spider killing?

You had just had the most relaxing bubble bath after a long day on your feet. Dressing in your comfiest set of pyjamas, you grabbed the book you were currently enjoying and settled into the big comfy armchair your husband had so chivalrously brought up to the corner of the room. He had done so on the condition that you would sit and read when you couldn’t sleep instead of watching him while he slept, which he insisted was weird. You had agreed to this condition, but of course you couldn’t help glancing over the top of your book and taking a peek at him as he dozed. 

Despite the fact that it was a big house, you and George were usually in the same room. Most nights when he would sit in his study doing paperwork you would sit on the other side of the room and occupy yourself with this or that. But tonight you opted to be in the bedroom so that when you could no long keep your eyes open you could take two steps and fall into bed.

You weren’t sure how much reading you were going to be able to manage tonight; you were quite tired and you’d stayed in the bath so long that you had that heavy, waterlogged sort of feeling. You’d cracked your book open and read the same paragraph four times when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw something move near your feet. Your eyes flicked up to inspect it and instantly brought your feet up onto the chair as fast as if the floor was suddenly burning. 

It was a spider, a large brown one with thick, long legs. As soon as you had moved it had stopped dead in its tracks. Smaller spiders you could cope with, but this one was about three sizes up from those. Reaching for your pockets you realised you had none. You gazed around quickly before spotting your wand on the bedside table - on the far side of the bed from you.

You could feel your heart hammering, not the least bit emboldened by the inner voice telling you that this fear was irrational. Your thoughts were moving as fast and your nerves were pulsing throughout your body. If you put your feet down to retrieve your wand, or any other kind of defensive weapon, it would likely move, which was the last thing you wanted. On the other hand you could probably jump from the chair to the bed, but what if it still decided to move and climbed onto the bed with you via the duvet which was dangling on the floor? You sent up a silent promise that from this moment on you would never leave your side of the bed unmade again. 

You were staring at the spider intently so that if it did move you would see where it went, but the longer you looked at it the more creeped out you became. With a helpless whimper you hugged your knees tighter to your chest and deferred to the only sound plan you had.

George’s hand was cramping from all the documents he’d been filling out. He decided he’d take a break from writing and read through some of the contracts that were starting to pile up. Fred was never really one for contracts, quill poised to sign without having read the fine print, so George had taken up that responsibility. He just didn’t understand why they couldn't be straight to the point instead of drawing out terms with unnecessary flair and words that were not used in everyday language.

His eyes began to grow weary as they trekked through line after line, the words blurring together as his chin pressed heavily into the hand that was holding it up. He kept fighting it, every time his eyes fell shut he would pry them open and start again, but it was no use. He sleepily thought perhaps he should go to the kitchen for a snack to wake him up, remembering the sweet samples crammed into the back of the cupboard.

“George!”

George sat upright, suddenly more awake. For a moment he though he might have imagined it, but his imagination wasn’t that good. The distress in your voice made him panic. He stood up in a hurry, almost knocking the chair over. He raced upstairs, taking them two at a time, trying to keep his mind from horrible scenarios of what he might find when he reached you.

When he found you he saw nothing but his wife in her favourite chair. He scanned the room but found no evidence of anything amiss. He began to make his way over to you, but when he took a step into the room you squeaked. “What’s wrong?” You still didn’t look up so he followed your unwavering gaze and spotted the cause. “Oh, my love. You do know this is one of those run of the mill garden spiders, not an acroman-“

“Yes! George, please, if you love me just kill it!”

“I’ve left my wand downstairs, I’ll be right-“

“No! Don’t you leave me, George Weasley!”

“Alright, alright!” 

One of the spider’s legs moved and you flinched. You had been looking at it so long you were well into a case of heebie-jeebies. George reached for a slipper close to him and you looked up. 

“Not mine! Use one of yours!”

His eyes widened before replacing the slipper and grabbing one of the bigger pair. “For someone who desperately needs saving you sure have a lot of demands on how it should be done,” he was only joking, which he conveyed in his tone of voice, but you’d had such a long day, your nerves were frazzled and George noticed the signs that you were on the verge of tears. “It’s okay, darling. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. I’ll get him now, okay?”

“Thank you,” you sobbed quietly. 

By now you were almost transfixed, and though George was here and was going to deal with it, though your eyes were burning with strain and you didn’t want to see the wretched thing for a second longer, you found you couldn’t look away, paranoid about the creature escaping and turning up elsewhere.

George raised the slipper and took two steps forward, the floor creaked under his weight and the spider scuttled about an inch across the floor before halting again, a few legs raised as if challenging George to attack. George’s eyes swiftly checked on you, your face was in a grimace but you had not moved an inch, although he thought he’d seen you shiver. He renewed his grip on the tattered slipper.

“I can’t watch,” he heard you say, but you only closed one eye and did not turn your face. 

George was at once endeared and sympathetic to you. He was only a few steps away and he wanted to reach for you and comfort you, but instead he focused on the task at hand. This time he would get it done and put you out of your misery.

The slipper cut swiftly through the air and delivered a convincing ‘thwack’. Finally he had been quicker than the creature. He was pretty certain it was dead, but he gave it another blow just for serenity’s sake. As the shoe hit the second time, the spider was thrown into the air in front of you and with cat-like reflexes you launched yourself onto George and he caught you awkwardly, dropping the makeshift weapon and instinctively taking a few steps backwards, so as not to topple over with the sheer force of your pounce. 

Your legs were clamped around his waist like you were holding on for dear life and George suppressed a chuckle. He brought a hand to caress your head soothingly, admitting to himself the warm glow in his chest at being, of sorts, your saviour. When your breathing settled and his knees could no longer bear it he set you down on the floor. You turned to see the carnage and winced. The critter had lost a few limbs and was crumpled up defeatedly. You would’ve felt sorry for it had it not just ruined the night that was meant to have been relaxing.

“All better?” George inquired softly.

Taking in a deep breath you replied, “Yes.” 

You were exhausted, yet wide awake, your body unsettled. George moved in your peripheral vision and you almost jumped, your heart picking up speed again as he pressed a kiss to your temple. When he released you, you’d made up your mind. 

“I’m sleeping downstairs tonight.”

“Wh-“ George looked between the dead spider and you. “Babe, it’s dead. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Determinedly you swiped your wand off the nightstand and headed for the door, grabbing George’s hand on the way. “You’re sleeping downstairs too.”

[nightswithkookmin]

GOING ON A HIATUS

Thanks to everyone who's taken the time out to read my posts and has enjoyed it so far. It's really been fun and entertaining exchanging thoughts and having these much deeper ship discussions.

I thought this issue was gonna go away but I woke up this morning to more people messaging me about finding my last video analysis on several other platforms without appropriate credit.

But that's not disturbing. The disturbing part is the people sliding into people's DM'S on other platforms to get them to take down my video because they don't want people sharing my content on other platforms as they believe it would only make my blog popular.

For those worried about this whole credit business, thanks for showing this much concern for me? I really appreciate the love and concern if it's from a genuine place of concern. Thank you...

I think some of you already know this by now or might have figured it out, I am a law student, I am very much well aware what is and what isn't within my rights? Lol

I honestly didn't see this whole credit thingy as a big deal. It's not. Not to me. Lol. I repost people's photos without credit too all the time. Often, it's because I don't know who to credit and most time my lazy ass just forgets to. Lol. I think it's normal? It's inconsequential I mean.

The videos I use are usually often water marked by the appropriate owners so I don't go through the hustle of figuring this whole credit business out. If I should decide to come back here again I will check that habit of mine?

While this whole credit business is not a big deal to me, malicious slander and defamation to my character is and I don't take it lightly.

It has been brought to my attention that some Jikookers from Tumblr have since been sliding into people's DM's on other platforms asking them to take down my video and or remove the credit they give to my post.

They are telling people I am problematic, calling me the Taekook Lives of the Jikook community. That I have been spreading lies about Jikook, that the Jikook Tumblr community hates me or something like that and to further caricaturize me and make me appear more evil in order to get people to turn on me and hate me, they make up the most ridiculous lies about me claiming that I believe a notorious serial killer is innocent.

Now I have since deleted my YT account because I don't want my colleagues to find out I am into shipping too lol- shipping is a guilty pleasure of mine and I know how this fandom works unfortunately. I've been a silent part of it since 2014. I mean it's started already. The Doxing and shit.

The original post under which these replies are from couldn't save sadly as my account has been deleted but you can see from my notifications the general feel of what my interests outside shipping looks like.

I am interested in a myriad of topics, from literature, Aliens, writing, Harry Potter, history, activism, advocacy, philosophy, law, politics, NASA, and mystery and murder among other things.

My quora is mostly filled with notifications from my Book community and True crime community and often I do share my thoughts and answer questions with regards to the psychology of murderers, legal evidence, notorious villains in literature- well I guess now you know the kind of lawyer I want to be if and when I'm able to complete law school.

But what has my interest in these topics got to do with Jikook and shipping please?? How does this prove I hate Jikook and spread lies about them?

This Kookie Min Monsta person slipped into someone's DMS and asked the person who had put up my video analysis to take it down or discredit me because to her I am problematic. She is not the only one.

You want so bad to paint me black- no pun intended just to win an argument? You claim I am the evil malicious person here but I am not the one sliding into people's dms trying to take credit away from people for their hardwork, spreading hate and negative energy, making things up to manipulate people's perception of others and get them to hate and turn on them- and all because of A SHIP? Damn. This is pathetic.

Who died and made you the gatekeeper of the jikook shipping community? Honestly antics like these don't work on me try again.

I made a video commentary on my Booktube YT account- yes I am part of the book YouTube community as well sue me or better still slip into their inboxes and tell them I voted for Trump therefore I hate chipmunks.

The commentary I made on YT months ago was when I was in the highs of finding a new passion and it was on Ann Rule's book, The Stranger Besides Me- a true crime novel on Ted Bundy which I found so poorly written that at the end of the book it left with me wondering whether or not Ted Bundy was guilty at all!

The Author's writing style which deviates from most writing styles of True Crime novels I have read gave me trust issues as I stated in the video. It felt more as if she was writing a made up fictional novel than an actual True Crime novel but because she knew Ted Bundy in person she made it seem as if we just had to believe her account.

Then there was this whole thing about the police not being able to match the DNA samples taken from his rape victims, to his own Semen because his Semen was DNAless- in lay man's terms. I'll spare you the technicalities involved.

As I stated in that video, I do believe Ted Bundy was guilty but I do not have much faith in the Judicial system, or criminal procedures or even the Author of that book- a sentiment most people within the true crime community share as well. We just had differing views on whether the writer's style took away from the narrative and waters down on the extent of Bundy's guilt.

We had a Similar conversation about Chris Watt. If the community I was engaging in didn't have a problem with my commentary why do you? Please don't meddle in things you know nothing about. It's embarrassing.

The conversation about whether or not Ted Bundy is innocent is moot but a philosophical one. It has nothing to do with Ted Bundy's guilt but more so the criminal procedures involved in his case and the different accounts that exists surrounding his case.

He was electrocuted, he confessed to his crimes no damn person with brains would think or assume he is innocent and I never said anything of that nature drew any conclusions to that effect.

Besides, I moved on from Ted Bundy a long time ago. Now I am into the Serial Killer who writes death poems and signs it off with drawings of the size of his dick at his crime scenes- mind your own business please or don't and let's have an intellectual discourse about him? Lmho.

I am also into cat memes if you care to know and have a whole IG dedicated to cat memes. I believe human beings are the most dumbest species in all the galaxies and when the Aliens arrive I am snitching.

When my mind is at rest, I often wonder if Aliens have masculinity complex and if they do whether or not their masculinity is contingent on the size of their dicks or whether they have to engage in a battle to the death with an alien grizzly bear to determine who is the man.

I love BTS memes too- a little too much and often end up debating over the internet with random people over whether BTS memes are funnier than cat memes- I'm weird, true. But how does all of that make me a bad person?

It's crazy how these people can go on these other platforms to ask people to take down the credits to my posts as well as my posts itself but can't ask people who run to these other platforms with misinterpretations of my work to take those down.

Instead they come on here to call me out for people's interpretations of my work?? It doesn't work that way. You are the author of your own opinion and interpretation of other people's work. You don't call out the original author for someone's opinion of their work. If that were so I would be emailing Stephanie Meyer for Anna Todd and her After series. Get some education.

I have since blocked this person and others whose Tumblr I have been able to find thanks to all those that's helped me finding them on here.

My gf also tried reaching out to the persons who shared my post after we realised this was becoming an issue and had asked them to credit her or my blog- but honestly I don't care about that yet she won't give it a rest. Lol. My ride or die this one. Sigh.

However, we realized soon that this is not about 'stealing' credit- can't call someone out for not giving credit when I suck at that myself. Lol.

This is about people's malicious intentions and their attempts to silence me and take away my right to freedom of expression however way that they can. This is wrong and evil.

I honestly don't care for all these ship politics these people are engaged in. I've had enough intelligent conversations to know the distinction between arguments that flows from bruised egos and actual conversations around a subject matter.

This whole I am right, she is wrong politics... y'all get that the point of having an opinion is not to be right, right? We all cant have the same perspective and you can't call someone a liar for holding views that is different from yours. That is a bizarre mentality to have.

As I stated in my post, that content I made was a rebuttal to the Taekook theories running around on the internet alleging JK glared at Tae when he pulled on his shoulder because he was jealous Tae and Jin were having fun behind him. He wasn't. He was worried Tae was gonna expose him and JM holding hands behind Suga.

If you don't think they were holding hands then Taekookers were right and his reaction was because he was Jealous of Taejin I guess...

But thats your truth. That's not my truth. I don't believe Taekook is real. JK isn't jealous of Taejin he is not Twelve- but then again he was sneaking around behind Suga holding his boyfriend's hands so I guess he is twelve? Lol. Jikook!

Do you.

But please stop the evil malicious attacks and seek immediate help. There is such a thing as right and wrong and this is just plain wrong. Your Karma and chakra are in the negative nodes and you need to fix it. It is not funny anymore.

Thank you to everyone who has shown genuine concerns for me in the past few days and thank you so much for trying to stand up for me. There are good people on here and I have met and interacted with a lot of them and thank you so much for such a wonderful experience and insightful discussions.

I don't hate people because of our differences in thoughts, beliefs, opinions. There's always room for dissenting opinions in every sphere. At the very least, we can agree to disagree and shake on it. But You can't make up shit about people just to prove your opinion is right and their opinions and views which differ from yours are 'wrong.

I am not a victim though, and they are not bullies, psst. They are just vile pathetic human beings exposing the greens of their insides. What you do says more about who you are as a person and human being. And this is who they are.

Just be a nice decent human being. That's what this world needs. Fix whatever is broken inside of you and free your mind and spirit. Hate is never the answer.

I'm going to be away for a while because I have studies, work and other interests I want to pursue at the moment- it's just my AADD flaring up so if you see me henceforth raving about Nana at least you'd know why. Lol. She's wrecking my Jimin bias. Lmho.

Spread positivity, do the right thing, stand up for a good cause and keep supporting Jikook. Jikook is real.

Until we meet again.

Signed,

GOLDY

[willymywonkers]

Experiments

Summary: A flashback to when Wonka first opened up his factory, and his relationship with his partner and close friend, Maude, were all the rage. A new guy pulls into town and has his sights set on Maude. Drama ensues.

A/N: Oof, I apologize if the ending feels a little rushed. I should say this fic does have a bittersweet feel to it, but that's how I like it lol. I am working on rewriting one of my other fics because honestly I think I've gotten better at writing Wonka, lol

Willy Wonka made headlines around the world when he opened the largest chocolate factory ever in history. He stood proudly in front of the looming building as the press went wild.

People stood all around the factory, celebrating such a momentous occasion. Especially, Maude Figgle, who stood right in front of the crowd, chewing on a piece of gum.

While chocolate was Willy's main passion, Maude helped out in crafting different kinds of gum. She even invented a kind of gum that would never loss its flavor. The press never seemed to care much about her, even though she was the brains behind most of his famous candies.

"Hello, and thank you for coming." Willy began to speak on a podium. He began adjusting the microphone. He took out several notecards, flipping through each of them.

Finally, he spoke again. "It is with great honor that I, Willy Wonka, have finally opened the largest chocolate factory in the world. Candy has always been my passion since I was a little boy, and I couldn't have done it alone. Maude Figgle, my very good friend and partner, has done so many things to help me on this incredible journey that I could never imagined of doing it on my own. Now, without a further ado, Wonka's factory is now opened!"

The crowd cheered as Willy stood up and cut the rope of his shiny new factory.

Maude ran up the steps, waving to the crowd. She hugged Willy, tightly.

Will was a bit surprised at the hug. He chuckled nervously, hugging Maude back.

It was the happiest day of their lives.

Will sat in his office, admiring all the workers below. After just a few months, people already seemed to enjoy working at the factory. Will would go down from his office sometimes, and test the different samples that people had made.

Maude was usually in the experiment room, where she made most of her breakthroughs. She was currently testing out a type of rock candy that projected different kinds of emotions.

"Maude, if you keep chewing that gum, your jaw will close shut, haha." Will said, jokingly.

"Yeah, says who, Smartypants?" Maude chuckled, and continued chewing.

Gum seemed to be the only thing that keep her focus. Ever since she was a little girl, she had a habit of chewing gum. She would chew faster if she was nervous or extremely focused. When she didn't have gum to chew, Maude would chew on her hair, pencils, or anything to keep her mind to focus.

Willy's stance on gum was obvious. He hated the stuff, but when it came to Maude, he seemed to tolerate it a lot more.

"Whatcha working on?" Will asked, leaning over Maude's shoulder.

"None of your business." Maude scoffed.

Will pouted, crossing his arms. "Haha, jokes on you. This factory is my business."

"Oh, of course, Mr. International Hotshot." Maude pushed Will gently to the side, and grabbed a few chemicals from behind him.

"You better believe it, missy." Willy looked to the experimentation table. There seemed to be a rock that was glowing pink.

"What does that mean?" Will asked, looking to Maude.

"It's emotional rock candy. You just touch it, and it'll glow whatever color you're feeling." Maude said, excited at her new invention. "It's like a mood ring."

"Uh-huh, and what does pink mean?" Will asked, again, placing his gloved hand on the rock.

Maude blushed, slightly. "Um, it's usually referred to the feeling of love or well happiness. It's kinda not really completed yet."

The rock candy began to shake as well as turn several different colors.

Maude gulped, grabbing Will to the ground. The rock exploded and bits of rock candy seemed to blow everywhere.

Luckily, there wasn't any other workers nearby, but Maude and Willy.

Willy grabbed his cane, and started laughing. "That was magnificent! We should do that again, but next time we should add different labels on the colors."

Maude chuckled as well. "Hehe, of course."

"Yes, we should definitely do that when I get back from India."

Maude's smiled quickly faded. "Leaving? To India?"

"Prince Pondicherry asked me to build him a palace entirely made out of chocolate." Willy chuckled. "It's really a strange request, is it not?"

"Yes, but, who will be in charge when you're gone?"

"You will, of course."

Maude's eyes widened as Willy headed out the door. "But, wait, why me?"

"Why not you? You're the only gosh darn person I'd trust to run this entire factory."

Maude smiled, slightly. She seemed a little troubled. "I'll do my best, Will."

He smiled back at her, pulling her into a hug.

Maude hesitantly hugged back. She looked up at the chocolateir's face. He looked young and bright. His lips were almost kissable. His hair was all short and crooked.

Maude pulled out of the hug and looked away. The very words "I love you" hung to her tongue, as Willy walked out of the factory.

"Good luck, Will."

A few weeks later, the press were hounding the factory, curious to where the chocolateir went off to.

Maude tried to maintain her composure without him, but it was no use to the press. They liked to dismiss her like she was some secretary. It annoyed her at times.

Even some of the workers in the factory didn't seem to care that she was in charge. They would say revolting things behind her back. Soon she didn't show up to the break room anymore. She started chewing her gum a lot faster.

"Um, excuse me, miss." A man said, knocking on the door of Wonka's office.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Wonka isn't here right now. Is there anything I can help you with?" Maude asked, opening the door for the man.

"No, actually. I was just looking for you." The man stammered.

The man seemed to have red hair, with captivating green eyes.

"Well, is there anything that you need help with, sir?" Maude repeated.

"Um, I apologize if this comes off as a bit dodgy, but I wanted to ask if you'd get drinks with me later?"

Maude crossed her arms at the offer. "I'm sorry, but I'm gonna have to decline, because I've got lots of work to catch up on."

The man still insisted. "The drinks would be on me."

"Uh-huh. Another thing is I don't even know your name." Maude said, rolling her eyes.

"It's Ron, Ron Duncan." The man stuck out his hand.

She looked at his hand, and raised an eyebrow. "Maude Figgle. Now, I'm really swamped with work, if you'll excuse me."

"Look, I get that you're busy, but, I really admire your since I was a kid. In my opinion, you'd be better off without Wonka." The man turned to leave.

Maude stopped whatever she was doing and looked at him. "That's very kind of you. You know what, sure, I'll go."

"Great, then it's a date." Ron smiled at her and walked off.

From that first meeting, Maude didn't expect to be in a relationship with him. Ron seemed so nice and caring, but there was something off about him. She didn't exactly know what, but she did have a feeling that his intentions were cloudy.

When Willy got back from India, he was greeted by a tight hug from Maude.

"Ah, it's good to be back after such a long time. India is scolding hot, you know." Willy said, as he hugged Maude back.

"There's someone I want you to meet." She smiled at Will, bringing him over to Ron.

Willy's smile faltered, when she gave Ron a kiss on the cheek. "Heh, hi."

"This is Ron. He's my boyfriend." Maude said, holding onto Ron's hand.

Ron stuck out his hand for Will to shake it. Will hesitantly shook it with a disgusted look on his face.

"I find it extraordinary that after all this time you guys held up your friendship." Ron smiled. It seemed to have a sour connotation to it.

Will smiled back, just as sourly. "Uh-huh, yeah. We've had the same dream since we were kids."

Ron's smile disappeared, slightly. He gave Maude another kiss before heading off. It made Will grimace slightly, as Ron walked off.

Will didn't know how to describe it, but he didn't like Ron. In fact, he grew to despise him, but he just didn't know why.

Whenever he would see Maude all lovey dovey with Ron, it just made Will sick to his stomach. Soon, candy sales began to drop. His chocolate just wasn't tasting as good as it used to.

It started getting worse when spies began stealing his life's work. The only thing that kept him afloat was Maude.

One day, Maude announced that she was getting engaged. However, she didn't seem too thrilled about it.

Willy picked up on it right away. She didn't seem to want anything to do with him anymore.

Maude began to distance herself from Will more and more. He felt more hollow without her.

During the wedding, Will showed up to walk Maude down the aisle.

"H-hey, Maude." He began.

"Yes?" She answered.

Will couldn't get over how she looked in her wedding dress. Her hair was done up all nice, and her lips looked almost kissable. He placed his gloved hand on her cheek, as the words "I love you" hung on the tip of his tongue.

"Good luck." He said, as he walked her down the aisle.

[zombiiesque]

Nocturne Alchemy Halloween 2019 - Part Two

Originally published 10/10/2019

Hey y'all! Gonna dive right into these scents, today I'm reviewing the Resurgence scents that I have from the Nocturne Alchemy Halloween LC release. If you'd like to read my reviews of the new releases I chose, you can click here. NAlloween has always, and likely always will, be my favorite Limited Collection they do! I have so many treasures in my Halloween box.

Scarlet Bat - Red Sugar, Crimson Musk, Black Tea Leaves, Neroli-sugar, and NA Black Patchouli Absolute. Okay, my friend Heather picked this one up before I did last year, and she fell head over heels for it. I was already eying it, because I had two previous Vampire Patchouli Bats that I loved, and it had Crimson in it. It had to be a gimme. Like this year's Vampire Bourbon Patchouli Bat, it was a stunner right out of the mail - and it's only gotten better as it ages. Seriously, it's utterly fabulous. Slinky and sexy, and I think even if you ordinarily don't like patchouli, you might find yourself surprised by this one. Put simply, this is sugared red musk and patchouli. Crimson is a softer red musk than Kashmir, but there's almost a spiciness to it. This just warms up on the skin and reaches out, pulls you in. I crave this one when I haven't worn it in a while. For me, my two favorites of the Vampire Patchouli Bats are the Bourbon, and Scarlet. Neither is to be missed. And I don't find it to be like anything I have in my collection, either.

V by Thoth - Incense, Sweetened spices of Cardamom, Cinnamon, Allspice and clove swirled with Vanilla pods, Ghost Musk and Copal Resin. V was a fan favorite last year - and for good reason. It's part of a set of 7 perfumes, each one designed by a House of NA perfumer. I remembered that I have another favorite Halloween perfume that Thoth did: Frank's Monster. I love that one, so I was pretty excited when I saw V was done by Thoth, too. Y'all, I have a lot of incense perfumes. They're something I just can't resist. Okay, confession time: I did love this one, I thought it was a beautiful perfume, but I didn't really get it until I pulled it back out after aging it over the year. I thought I perhaps had similar perfumes...well. I was wrong. I tried it again a few weeks ago, when the weather started to cool down here in Florida, and it absolutely floored me. It was like I was experiencing a whole new perfume - this is positively SPECTACULAR. Very, very different from my other incense perfumes, and it might just be my favorite yet. I don't know what Ghost Musk is, but if it's that beautiful musk I'm smelling here, I could go for a full 10ml bottle of it. It reminds me a bit of Egyptian Musk, but not quite as sweet - very clean, and very appealing - floaty. I think that's it, and if so....Y'ALL, PLEASE MAKE THIS I WANT IT! Hahaha. I think I might like Ghost Musk better than Cemetery Musk, and I love that one too. Anyway - I'm dwelling. This is balanced against a light incense, and the spices are very much in the background, just a nice warm hum of support. But the copallll. I'm sure everyone knows copal rules my world, when we discuss favorite notes. It adds a lovely smoky, slightly sweet depth to this. I'm fully mesmerized. Thoth has outdone himself. I think this is backup worthy. So, a lesson to be had here, and one I realize quite often - if you don't really love something, put it aside for a while, and see what happens when you return to it. And I want to reiterate, I really did like this - but I didn't see, last year, what I was supposed to see with it - aging it and trying it when the weather was a little cooler and dryer really changed my perspective of it, and now it's become an obsession and a Halloween favorite. If you were looking at this one and wondering if you need it - let me ask, do you like musk and incense? If so, you'd better run and get this before it goes away.

The Mummy Returns - Patchouli, Vetiver, Australian Sandalwood, Cardamom, Frankincense, Myrrh, Rock Rose, Labdanum, Siam Benzoin and Tonka Bean. I made a little mistake, and it's the first time I've ever done this. I usually have a solid idea of what I have in my boxes, particularly my Halloween box, but I ordered The Mummy Returns this year thinking I missed it last year, but after my order came in, I was digging into my Halloween box and pulled out....an aged bottle of The Mummy Returns. Yep. So I'll be putting up my new one for swap. At any rate, it just really proved to me about the differences aging makes in Nocturne Alchemy's perfumes, so I kind of enjoyed realizing the contrasts! The Mummy Returns is a resin lover's dream. It's a deep, dark, witchy scent. I love the balance between the sweeter notes, like the myrrh and cardamom, and the woods. I'm writing this based on my aged bottle, and it's just so....well, at the risk of sounding dramatic, it's deep and mystical, and I'll probably be using this for my rituals, I feel such a connection to it. I couldn't tell you how, but it's something I've smelled before - there's some memory I haven't tapped into yet. I find it to be comfortingly familiar, but at the same time, it feels solemn and sacred. If you are nervous of vetiver, as I am sometimes, it's not a note that stands out a lot here, I can barely discern it when I'm huffing at my wrists. So yes, The Mummy Returns is quite an intense experience for me, but I definitely would recommend this in a heartbeat if you, too, love resinous, woody scents with a little sweetness to them. It's a beautiful perfume. It lasts quite a long time on the skin, too - more than eight hours, and I would say it's on the stronger side, so try it sparingly at first, unless you love to slather like I do.

A Change of Heart – Copal Resin, Shiraz Wine accord, Kashmir Absolute, Indian Oudh, Leather accord and burning embers. This bottle actually was gifted to me by my friend Heather. When I first got it, the leather seemed a little loud on my skin - and that made me nervous, because I was thinking it would be more like Hokum, which is a snuggly, sueded leather. But I figured I'd put it away, and let it age - and it would probably balance itself out. Well, that's exactly what happened. This is one of those scents that you can identify the various notes, if you're familiar enough with them - but they compliment each other so well, they're seamless together. It's definitely a chilly day scent, I did try to wear it in the summer and I don't recommend that - it just doesn't do well in the humidity of Florida. But it's great throughout fall and winter - like the leather in Hokum, this is a snuggly, easy to wear leather, and the copal, wine, and red musk of Kashmir just meld together so well. The wine is sweet, and a nice foil - definitely not a sharp note. I do love the way NA does their wine notes. I'm actually kind of wanting to pick up She Could Raise The Dead, which also features a wine and leather combination - reviews are really intriguing for that, too. And I have totally fallen for both Hokum and A Change Of Heart, so I think I might need it! The copal is of course my favorite note ever - it's a little sweet, sticky, and resinous - and also a bit smoky. This really accentuates the smoky oudh when it starts to shine in long drydown. I'm not sure I am doing this one justice - it really is unusual, and striking. Leather was a death note for me previous to NA - I simply could not wear it. If I tried to put on a perfume that had leather as a note, it would take over on my skin - and I couldn't get away from it. But these soft leathers (vegan, by the way!) that Nocturne Alchemy uses are very wearable for me, and I really am enjoying being able to wear it!

Pirate Rum - Bay Rum and a Chypre of Lavender, Chamomile, Pirate Ship Cedarwood and Siberian Fir Needle with a touch of French Vanilla and Oak. I got this one for my fiance, as the notes reminded me a bit of his beloved Ghost Ship. I can only give you a brief impression of this as to how it smells on him, but I thought someone might be interested in hearing that, so I'm including it! So on him, the bay rum is a nice, round spicy scent. If you're thinking Old Spice, push that right out of your head - this is dark and sexy, and nothing like that old standby. Much more complex and well done. The woods in this are the perfect balance against the bay rum, and the chypre is clean, but not at all feminine, so don't let that lavender scare you. I love this on him. Long drydown is a deep, warm spice against weathered, well aged wood. Very appealing! I tried a drop on me, and it's very different with my skinistry. I get a lot more of the chypre and chamomile, the spice of the bay rum is sedated a bit. I think it might come out more with age, if you wanted to wear it as a unisex scent, though. It is there, it's just not as evident as it was on him. The wood notes are gorgeous - I loooove that fir and cedarwood against the slightly herbal chypre on me. I will say, I much prefer this on him right now.

And a bonus - Halloween 2020, which was given out as a sample with orders for this release. It's also available in the All Hallows' Eve section as part of the Permanent Collection, so if you love this, you can even get a big 10ml bottle! Notes: A special All Hallows’ Eve blend of 7 Sandalwoods (Hawaiian, Indian, Australian, New Caledonia, Indian Santalum Album, Karnataka Sandalwood, African Sandalwood (Baphia Nitida), Cardamom essential oil, Clove essential oil, Bourbon Vanille Absolute, Bastet Amber Absolute, smoked sandalwood infused with oak and pine smoke in the NA Studio. There was also a beautiful frosted black bottle, a special edition, along with Halloween 2018 and Halloween 2019, in frosted red and orange bottles, in the Halloween LCs this year. I had a feeling I was going to love this one right away - and I do. SEVEN. SANDALWOODS. 7, y'all! Now this will likely change and get even better with age, but my first impression of this? It is like a sister scent to Bastet Halloween 2016, which is one of my favorite PC scents. The spices in that definitely have a similar feel to the cardamom and clove in Halloween 2020, and of course the presence of Bastet Amber, one of my soul scents, is a star here, too. But those sandalwoods. So smooth. I'm making my way through that 2ml sample alarmingly quickly. Right now I'm not getting much of the smoke on my skin, but the clove starts out a little strongly when it's first applied. Once it warms up and sinks into my skin though, the other notes come out to play, and the clove sinks into the background to add a little spicy kick with the warmth of the cardamom. Beautiful for fall, truly. Brings to mind blue, blue skies, bright leaves, wispy white clouds. A fluffy scarf wrapped around your neck as you explore a farmer's market. That's the picture I have in my head when I huff at my wrist. I'll be reaching for this frequently. I can't really differentiate all the sandalwoods, but the blending of them reminds me just a bit of my beloved Pyramid Santalum. I think if you wanted more smoke, you could layer this with Titanosaurus - or if you wanted to really play up the sandalwoods, you could add even more Santalum or Pyramid Santalum, or Pteranodon. Hey, never enough sandalwood, am I right?

And that wraps up the second half of my NAlloween choices. Did you read the first half? What perfumes did you choose from this release? What are your favorites? I'm thinking about going back for one or two more, there are so many that caught my eye!

[aileysmirnov]

◇◆Ailey Villains Gallery: Scarecrow◇◆

Scarecrow's face claim: Adrien Brody

Secret vs Scarecrow! How did they met?

Ailey (Secret) and Scarecrow met 'thanks' to Batman:

One night in Gotham, Scarecrow infiltrated the Iceberg Lounge with the intention to Kill some of Penguin's Henchmen.

With a more "upgraded" (and letal) version of his fear gas.

Just as a way to send a message to Oswald who had stolen some of his gas and now was selling it for a very high price on the dark market.

To prevent Batman from intervening, Scarecrow convinced Riddler and Dr Pig to create a "distraction" (if murdering almost 11 people between the two and then make an "spectacle" about it, can be called like that) for the Bat.

And unfortunately when the "Caped Crusader" realized it was a trap (thanks to one of Riddler's "funny" riddles) he was already too far from the building.

Too far from stopping Scarecrow.

He analyzed all of his options pretty fast: he couldn't send Damian, he was with him, Dick was in Blüdhaven, He already send Tim after Riddler and Steph after Pig, Cass and Barbara where in another state with the Birds of prey, Duke and Kate where teaming up to solve a crime involving a new rising homicidal cult and Jason…he wasn't in good terms with Jason…again…and he losed his track at least 2 weeks ago.

And so…he reluctantly took the phone and dialed the number of the one person he could think of.

Ailey was doing the usual: shouting angrily and throwing a tantrum towards her employees (like the good little tyrant she is) for a last minute cancellation of 4 of the stellar models for the upcoming Winter collection of SVELLYO. When all of a sudden she received a call from the one and only: Bruce fucking Wayne.

—B! What a perfect timing! Is not bothersome at all!—she remarked the words sarcastically annoyed a tone that sounded like the venomous hissing of a snake.

—Listen Ailey, I don't have time for thi-

She cut him off

—What a coincidence! Neither do I, B's man! Byee~

—Ailey…—He didn't shout at her but his more menacing (than usually) tone, make her feel like he did; it was a voice tone that Bruce normally just used when he was with Joker and when he used it. Oh boy, You just knew the man ain't taking any shit.

—Listen to me. And listen. C A R E F U L L Y. Scarecrow is in the Iceberg Lounge it's 2 minutes away from you by flying. I need you to go after him and prevent whatever he's up to against Cobblepot.—He said a little more ""nicer"" (if it's even possible) this time, but still with a hint of frustration in his voice.

—yeah…well…I also need this little favor, B—Bruce was about to fucking lose it in that moment, there where lives in danger and this CHILD was just thinking of herself!! But before he could lash out at her with a "I'm dissapointed" speech; Damian took the phone.

—He said he'll do it, you have my word. Now…Go! —Robin said without thinking twice

—Thank you, my zelenyy*! I'm on my way! —and with an Angry Bruce Lashing out at every single thing on earth on the background, Ailey hanged up, wrote a quick note to his secretary, asking him to give all of her employees a rise (including him, of course) and sprinted out to SVELLYO's roof top; without a word to the perplexed staff.

Once she stood there.She could feel the cold night breeze hitting her face and without any doubt she jumped abruptly from one of the highest points in the city.

Her eyes opened at the middle of his falling, adrenaline and renewed energy cursing trough her veins, her blonde hair replaced with a glowing rose gold, a metalic blue growing in her gaze and her outfit conveniently transformed on an all black bodysuit with slight hints of gold on the bottom of her sleeves.

His whole body defying gravity, flying through the night sky with the same grace and glory of a swan and leaving a subtle trace of light glowing pink as she passed by.

She arrived at the Iceberg Lounge back entrance at least 5 seconds earlier from what Batman had predicted.

Penguin's henchmen where all gathered in what appeared to be a small cellar on the very back of the casino, they were complaining about an out of the blue"meeting".

Secret (Ailey) assumed it was Scarecrow's way to get them all in the same place and avoid any unnecessary complications.

With extreme caution she stood and watched near the skylight, trying to fade away her own slightly glowing nature with the moonlight.

Her eyes searched quickly inside the room, ans she soon spotted atleast 6 gas tanks oddly put in some of the poorly lighted corners of the cellar.

But no sign of the maniac

Or so she though until the abrupt pain in her neck and the obscure presence behind her sooner than later make her realize; she wasn't alone.

She could feel the infernal pain from the toxin filling his lungs and cutting her breath and her vision becoming a little bit dizzy.

—You should know better than spying on people, dear…It might not end up being what you expected—his voice was deep and unforgiving, a condescending tone and the weight of countless sleepless nights leaked through every word.

She tried to speak but only felt her throat closing.

—Now, now, dear…all will end up soon. —His tall and lanky figure covered by worn out clothes to match his own psychotic aesthetic made him look intimidating. And without any glimpse of empathy he proceeded to toss her body aside with a kick like if she was a filthy dead rat, and continue to watch expectantly to the ignorant henchmen above.

He was waiting, waiting for one of them to foolishly reveal where his beloved toxin was and after a couple of minutes one of them casually mentioned a secret basement where the most important items waited patiently for whoever was able to afford his almost ridiculously expensive price.

Crane smiled wickedly to himself…he had just what he wanted…almost.

He activated the slightly hidden tanks of fear gas and watched in admiration as some of the henchmen faces started to change into a horrified expression.

—Head's up, asshole!—He didn't even had time to process the situation properly, when Secret's hands where at both sides of his head, the tip of her fingers illuminated and emanating Rose gold strings of pure energy attaching themselves to Crane's mind.

And at that exact moment he remembered: the pain, the panic, the fear.

The very first time he tested his toxin, was on himself: he was laying in to that dirty old shack for what felt like an eternity; he screamed and begged and yet the hallucinations didn't leave him, his mind was racing with the most horrible thought it could possibly even consider, everything so real and yet so distant. He felt hopeless.

And the delicate strings clinging tight around his mind. Lord, what a bittersweet nostalgia! He felt the same, the same way as the first time, he could hear the screams, the voices, the endless discontent. But couldn't find anything around him…just…hollow and for some strange reason…that scared the shit out of him.

Ironically it had been years since the last time Crane felt genuine fear.

When Crane woke up, he was already in that horrible place: a worn out cell from Arkham

But strangely he didn't feel any kind of anger or frustration. No…he felt…elated in the best way possible almost like if he had reborn!

And so…he stood there; staring blankly at the small window with an almost devilish smile across his face.

Waiting for the next encounter

◆◇◆◇

Ailey felt so proud of herself, she had successfully managed to knock out Scarecrow, control the gas leak and save Penguin's henchmen! All alone! And even took the liberty to recover all of Crane's toxin samples Penguin had!

She couldn't wait to see Bruce's face, Oh that man owed her BIG TIME!

When Bruce and Damian finally arrived at the Batcave, he was welcomed by her.

She looked like a 10 year-old who approved one of his test and was proudly showing off the paper to his parents.

Wich made Bruce smile…a little (even if he doesn't admit to it)

—See? You can trust me, B!—she said handing him the samples.

—So you send him to Arkham? Hmm…honestly I didn't though you'll made it…but good job…I guess…?—Damian admitted, while taking off his mask.

—Well, I'm glad I'm not THAT disappointing, sir! —Her tone expressing the sarcasm and slight frustration and offence in every word. Which Damian only replayed with a faint little smile.

—…Good Job, Ailey…—Bruce spoke for the first time since they arrived

—…and thank you for your help…—He completed with a slightly more """friendly""" tone (which just means less stiffness in his voice but still maintaining his authoritarian tone)

—yeah…well…don't thank me yet…we had a deal!—She said while playfully floating around him and touching the ears of his Bat-suit; Bruce could only do as much as to touching the bridge of his nose trying to contain his very obvious nuisance.

—…What do want? —He said sighing heavily.

—Nothing much, really! I want You, Damian, Dick and Katy modeling for SVELLYO winter collection catwalk, next week! —

◆◇◆◇

OMG! That was fun! I was going to put a small and cute little drawing of Ailey touching the ears of the Bat-suit but I still haven't finished yet! So yeah…I will edit it once I have it done!

Anyway! I loved writing this, and I will be uploading more content for Ailey, wich now she has her official anti-hero name! And is called

🥁🥁🥁🥁

Secret!

Shout out to @melyaliz / @insideoflit for the name idea! I honestly struggle so much with names 😅

Thanks to @Shiro.GURu (on insta) for helping me with this! Love ya, girl <3

Tagging: @lobodesaturno @snowflake2sstuff @lord-carstairs @weam0theblueblues @morefarthanaway

[rainydawgradioblog]

PrEP School

Hello everyone! It’s Ricky. Okay this week I’m focusing my blog post around the central idea of “songs I would play if I owned and managed a small, obscure listening bar in an alley in Tokyo with egg shells hanging from the ceiling and experimental films being projected on the walls”. These are songs inspired by a time I went on a date with a boy at a small, obscure listening bar in an alley in Tokyo with egg shells hanging from the ceiling and experimental films being projected on the walls. We “met” on Grindr (obviously) and first got dinner at this really chic restaurant. It was one of those restaurants where you sit on the floor, and we were the only people there. The menu was hand written in Japanese on a seemingly antique paper scroll and above us was an erotic painting of a woman defecating on the floor. We couldn't read the menu because neither of us speak Japanese (he is from New York but just moved to Tokyo to be a “freelance graphic designer and image consultant”...whatever that means) so we just ordered something random. It ended up being a single piece of asparagus and like 3 baby corns. Literally that’s it. And it was almost $100. He paid for it and then we left to go to a bar I recommended.

Once we got to the bar it became apparent that it was very my moment and very not his moment. The music was an uncomfortably loud ringing noise when we got there, and it stayed that way for a long time. There is only enough room for 4 people to sit in there, but you could probably fit 10 if you wanted to touch each other. There was a video of a naked woman writhing around on the floor being projected on the walls and the one man who works there seemed really mean. I loved it! Eventually, The Crying Pill by Matmos came on and I literally had an out of body experience. I had never heard this song before, but I was living. I tried to Shazam it but it didn’t work so I took a voice memo of it instead. I told the boy that it was the best song I had ever heard and was so sad I wouldn’t be able to find it. He was not into the song at all but he was pretending to enjoy himself. Anyway, the date was like whatever. He told me he wanted to get face tats and was kind of boring. I never saw him again after that night, but the next day I was listening to my Spotify Discover Weekly playlist and that song came on! Basically what I’m getting at is that it was destiny for me to hear that song at that bar on that night. So now I listen to that song all the time and pretend I work at that bar and get to choose the music they play there. That was a really long introduction to this blog post but 1) you needed that context and 2) this is a blog so I’m not going to apologize for making you read.

The first song I would play at my bar is Plural by Sote. I’m listening to this song right now as I’m writing this and just realized this is my Sicko Mode. Like, this is that song you could throw on at any time and I will immediately drop to my knees. Oh my god, I have chills right now.

The next song I would play is Filament 1 - 1 by Sachiko M and Yoshihide Otomo. I texted this song to Ronan and Cole in our group chat saying “me wall twerking to this song” and Cole laughed at me. I wasn’t joking though, this song makes me want to wall twerk. This song would work really well in a bar/club setting because the only thing better in social spaces than loud music is unusually quiet music.

I also sent them Akuta by Sugai Ken, which would be queued up next. Cole referred to this song as “cave dwelling realness” and Ronan said “the cover of it is cute”. I agree with them and would add that it’s seductive and rousing.

When the clock strikes midnight I play Fantasy by Against All Logic. This song samples Beyoncé’s 2003 seminal masterpiece Baby Boy in the most major way possible. At this point everyone involved would be sweating. The title of this song has me thinking about fantasies. I’ve been fantasizing about being held captive in a large plywood box. If there are any psychology majors reading this please let me know what that says about me.

The next song is Frontier Control by Ausschuss. This is the type of song I would want to listen to while being held captive in a large plywood box. Should I expand on this plywood box fantasy? Yeah, I should. The box would be very large, like, big enough for me to run around in, and I’d be chained up in the center to a really chic bed. This would all be consensual, like I would sign myself up to be held captive in this box. It’s like performance art, I guess. Maybe there would be a peep hole in the box for people to watch me while I listen to this song.

Okay moving on from the box fantasy, the next song is Hard Screw by Metal Preyers. This song has the most beautiful Bon Iver-esque vocal, but like Bon Iver in an accidental K-Hole.

Next I would play Music of the Air by Tim Hecker. This song is actually dedicated to someone really special in my life. Recently my friends and I have been texting a prisoner, and we love him so much. My friend Saya found him on TikTok and got his number, and we’ve all been talking to him since. We still aren't sure how he has a phone in prison. I asked him and he said “bought it”. But it really doesn’t matter, he is so honest and has the sweetest heart (not to mention he’s gorgeous). He has the cutest chains, like he is fully iced out even in prison. He really enjoys talking to us, and even told Saya that he loves her and sent NSFW pictures to Lexi! I dream of one day taking him on a date to my bar in Japan. Until then, we’ll just have to communicate through a screen. This one’s for you baby, one year left until you’re free!

The final song of the night is YUNG RAPUNXEL PT.II by Azealia Banks. This is the perfect song to end a great night. My favorite part is when she asks “want a piece of candy?”. I totally want a piece of candy, do you?

Peace and blessings,

-Ricky

[zombiiesque]

In Memorium: Dear Laura, Decantress and Scribe Extraordinaire

Originally published 7/6/2017

I'm not really sure how to start this, as I'm still rather reeling with the shock. On Saturday, the indie perfume community found out that our dear friend Laura, who has been decanting for NAVA for more than 8 years, passed away suddenly due to an illness. I'm not sure there are enough superlatives for me to describe this incredible lady, who made such an impact on our little world, but I hope, today, to do some honor to her, from my very fond memories of the friendship that she gifted me with.

I met Laura more than 3 years ago, when I was just starting my incredible discovery of the Nocturne Alchemy brand. I wasn't really sure where to start, and some kind souls pointed me in her direction, as she was decanting the current Limited Collection, as she always did. I found her Facebook group and Livejournal, and sent her an email. Hah! Gods bless her, she was gracious from the very first time I spoke with her. I told her that I was very, very new to NAVA and that I had never joined a circle before, could she offer a little guidance? And she did, she made things so very easy for me, and we started speaking regularly. I remember that she told me she loved my username! She was a big fan of the show The Walking Dead (see photo above, we are both Daryl fans, and I told her that my fiance is rather Daryl-esque in character). Well, that started us on a little path of long emails, and eventually we had a few phone conversations too! I always wanted to speak more with her but our schedules were opposite, so we only got to have a few marathon conversations on the phone. But I felt instantly connected with her, like we had known each other for years. I think Laura was one of those truly gifted and intuitive people who were able to make everyone comfortable, to make people feel really good while they were speaking with her. How incredibly lovely. I so enjoyed talking to her, about anything under the sun. And she knew my struggles with depression, without me going too deeply into it - and it always seemed to me that Laura was shining a light in my darkness. She always had something sweet to say, some kindness to pass on, something to make me laugh out loud. That was another thing - she had an absolutely fantastic sense of humor. I always enjoyed her posts on her Facebook or in her group. I enjoyed the little blurbs she wrote at the top of each circle for us as well. I'm remembering so many things she spoke of with such fondness, but overwhelmingly, it's her kindness, and the light in the dark that she held, I'm sure not just for me, but for many.

And she was an incredibly busy lady. She was professional, and organized, and she kept notes on quite a huge catalogue of NA perfumes. She started the NA Wiki after their fan forum was closed, and that in itself is quite the undertaking. Her journal has provided so many of us with notes for perfumes that we couldn't find elsewhere on the internet, she's left quite a legacy behind in our small world. She sent out the most wonderful packages. Everything was done just so, and there was always a little sniffie of something interesting, as well as something fun in keeping with the theme of that season or collection. My first package had tiny little pink umbrellas! I still have them and so many other little mementos from her in a little box. And I bought many a bottle or partial bottle from her sales entries, which was absolutely chock full of treasures. That was absolutely invaluable in helping me learn what notes I liked from NA, and whenever someone new asked about them, I would send them her sales page, saying that it's an excellent way to dip your toes in and find out what you like - because it was true.

I actually made her the graphic you see in my sidebar. She sent me the original graphic - so cute! - and I sent her what I had made, and she loved it. I had planned to make a few more for her in a variety of sizes, but I got sick and seemed to stay that way for almost a month after we moved, and hadn't got back into it. I actually had my graphics program open the day I found out she passed away, as I was going to get back into making my graphics - as you see, I'd redone my header for the blog, but not the css yet. I was planning on writing her a nice long email, because I know she'd been behind due to her internet being down, but was getting ready to start the new decanting for the grand reopening. I'm a little upset with myself I didn't get around to it. I think that we always live with some regrets when someone we love passes, and Laura made quite an impact on me, she was more than just a lady I bought perfume samples from, she was a very good friend.

Laura was preceded in death by the love of her life, her husband Bob. She talked about him quite a lot with me, and I felt really honored that she would share her story with me. That was very sweet and touching that she trusted her feelings with me, and I truly valued that. I know, now, that she is with her love, and her precious cat, and she is happy. Her heart is full. Her body no longer aches, she's not tired, or lonely, or missing her husband any longer, she is at peace. And that's all I could truly wish for dear Laura. I will hold you in my heart, dear friend, and remember the gifts that you gave me, and I will hold the light now. Love you very much. Wish you peace, Laura.