#breaking the rules is kind of par for the course isn't it

[transmutationisms]

I would love to hear more of your thoughts on House & its relation to the detective genre ! I think that house (completely accidentally and very badly) stumbles into a good critique of how doctors & medical structures view addicts & disabled people, with house being a horrible hegemonic mr malpractice to his patients frequently yet half is series is unironically just about all the injustice/mistreatment he faces because his doctor colleagues can’t see him as a person but only as a problem to be solved/rehabbed/therapized/institutionalized/treated like a child with stolen candy/treated like a criminal. and then it also randomly takes an incredibly pro MAID stance. which isn’t really part of this but I just remembered how batshit insane that show was. and then chase killed a dictator and I feel like the show was squarely on his side for that one. Anyway. Do you have thoughts? I really like house.

ok here's my house md take. like a lot of medical dramas, the show essentially relies for its dramatic appeal on the construal of patients as gross, weird, and stupid—rubes who are too uneducated and self-serving in their petty lies to solve their own bodies, and thus need the intervention of house to fix them. this is standard for the genre, although slightly meaner on house than on some other examples (cf. grey's or even the older and soapier generation of these shows). i don't even think house committing malpractice is all that new; it's relatively common as a plot point that positions the noble rule-breaking doctor as someone who 'does what needs to be done' and skirts the bureaucratic red tape to follow their own superior judgment. what makes house more interesting is that from the get-go, house himself is both a doctor and an unwilling patient. in itself this isn't a tension that's new to the medical soap (injuring a major character is pretty par for the course) but house's particular interactions with the ruling biomedical epistemology are, as you point out, characterised by hostility and resistance, and the show frequently either sides with house, or at least leaves it somewhat up to the viewer to decide whether house is right to resist the pathologisation that cuddy and wilson try to impose on him.

this is kind of a tricky line to walk for 7 seasons or however long the show is. my recollection is there are episodes, for example, where it's very clear that house's pain is physical, and the writers use this to morally justify his vicodin use. this is obviously not a full-throated defence of opioid users, but it is at least pointing to a position on chronic pain that allows for the possibility that for some people, long-term use of drugs with a high addiction potential and side effects is legitimately the best thing. but, this messaging is also undercut by the fact that it's primetime television, they need to make drama, and there are definitely also episodes where house is framed as potentially lying about his pain, or at least mistaking a somatic problem for a physical one, which the writers often (not always, but often) present as evidence that actually, house shouldn't be trusted to make his own decisions about drug use, and ideally should be 'de-toxed' and probably sent to cbt or whatever. of course all of these considerations are also contextualised by the fact that house is, again, not just a patient but a doctor: his right and ability to make these types of calls for himself is, it's suggested, a result of his having attained medical education and credentials. the patients who come to be treated by him are seldom, if ever, given this same level of consideration or presumed to have sufficient self-awareness to make their own medical decisions. this isn't to say they're portrayed entirely unsympathetically, but ultimately the narrative engine of the show relies on house being the smartest guy in the room (though ofc, sometimes tragically 'held back by his addiction').

so, although there are moments on the show that genuinely transgress some of the norms of the med-drama genre, i have never agreed with people who thought that the show as a whole was presenting any sustained critique of the medical system, the treatment of chronic pain/disability, or the power-imbalanced doctor-patient relationship. ultimately all authority on house md is supposed to emanate from the physician, or the physician's superiors (cuddy as a 'check' on house, though sometimes a failed one! again because of the need to generate drama for like 140 episodes), and at its most radical the show is really only capable of presenting house himself as an out-of-control aberration whose existence strains the existing system rather than being produced by it.

this is where i think the comparison to the cop show genre becomes more clarifying. house md never made a secret of being an interpolation of the detective genre, specifically sherlock holmes. however, i'm not sure i've ever really seen writing on the show that analyses what effect this actually has on house. like police, doctors are tasked with maintaining certain social norms; the dichotomy between policing and medicine isn't even a solid line, as criminality is frequently rhetorically construed as a pathology in itself and medical authorities can and do have recourse to carceral systems in order to discipline and confine recalcitrant patients, the 'criminally insane', addicts, and so forth. (policing has historically also been understood in a more expansive sense than how we use the word today; our understanding of the medical/public health system as separate from police authority is arguably more to do with university credentialling than the actual exercise of social and political power).

so, if we want to be serious about the portrayal of medicine in popular culture (i am always serious about this) then we're necessarily talking about broader systems of power, social control, and discipline, and doubly so on a show like house that is explicitly inspired by detective fiction. this is where house md is most ideologically objectionable to me: as with the trope of the cop who breaks all the rules, house is basically positioned in one of two ways throughout the show. either he's a lone genius who alone is willing to achieve noble ends (cure) through distasteful means (breaking into patients' homes, berating them, performing risky interventions on them, &c), or—and this is rarer on house but does happen—he's portrayed as genuinely crossing an ethical line, in which case he's a kind of monstrous aberration from the normal, ethical functioning of the medical system, often represented metonymously by the objections that cuddy, wilson, or house's underlings raise. in both of these cases, as with copaganda, the function is ultimately to reinforce the idea that doctors, though occasionally capable of human error, are prima facie wiser than their patients, looking out for their patients' best interests, and performing noble social roles as healers. house, ofc, is very rarely willing to admit that he has any underlying ethical motivations, though much of the show is driven by the flashes where he is revealed to 'secretly' care about another person (often wilson) and anyway, the construction of an ethical society in which all individual actors are motivated solely by selfish interests is a very established rhetorical move for those interested in defending liberal capitalist societies (cf. charles darwin, thomas malthus, adam smith, &c).

because of television's need to generate profit via audience engagement, house md always relied on a certain level of shock or at least provocation in order to sustain itself. so, there are certain aberrations from the more overtly doctor-valorising medical dramas, like the suggestion (sometimes tongue-in-cheek) that house was better at his job when he was mildly high on opioids. this was, for the reasons outlined above, never a serious entry into political critique, but it was at least refreshing in a certain way as a departure from, eg, the portrayal of addiction and drug use that we see on grey's, which is completely limited to the medicalised AA narrative of 'recovery' as a battle against the malevolent intervention of an external chemical agent. which is to say that although house md is ultimately reactionary in the way we should expect from an american tv show, it did at least dabble in a certain level of caustic iconoclasm that allowed limited departures from the genre conventions. even with what was ultimately a pretty solid vindication of the anti-opioid narrative, the show does stand out in my mind as one of the few very popular presentations of any kind of alternative stance on chronic drug use. that it's usually put in house's own mouth means it is occasionally legitimated by his epistemological authority as a physician, though ofc ultimately this authority is challenged not through a critique of the medical system, but by presenting house as individually and aberrantly licentious, undisciplined, and insane—and his chronic pain/disability are both a justification for this, and a shorthand for conveying it.

[scramble-crossing]

Good Evening hope this finds you well and alive. I would like to ask about Lady Konishi question 1 and 12 please.

:)

Yaaay I was hoping someone would say Konishi!!

1. What do you like or dislike about this character? I didn't really think much about Konishi for the longest time, but then one day I wrote her pretty much by chance and developed a fondness for her from there :] I like how almost every scene she has leading up to W3 is her going "Yes sir of course sir right away sir" whenever Megumi makes some weird out-of-pocket remark or request and then turning around and thinking to herself "Wow this is a sinking ship if I ever saw one. Thank god I'm the smartest one here and will surely make it out of this alive." I like how she acts like a perfectly loyal, professional underling on the outside while on the inside she's always trying to work out a loophole to exploit if things go well and an escape route if they don't. She's very Quintessential Reaper that way, acting on ambition and ambivalence rather than outright malice towards her coworkers (at least how I see it. I don't think she particularly minded working for Megumi or had any desire to see him fail, she just worked out that it was the most likely outcome and sought to benefit from what was probably already a foregone conclusion).

Really I think the only thing I don't like about her is her Noise form.

It's cool, but it could have been done better. It's a bit too anthropomorphic, which irks me when her male counterparts all have very distinctly animal bodies in their Noise forms

But nooo she's gotta have the cleavage and the six inch waist :/ She looks more like a circus performer than a monster, which I wouldn't even mind if that was the theme, but it's not, and the more I look at her side-by-side with the others the stranger it gets. Oh well. All that said I do like how she reclines with a bored/annoyed look on her face and her claw up like she's taunting Beat and Neku.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character? She's actually closer to Megumi in age than Uzuki, Sho, or Kariya. She died in her mid-to-late-20s under a lot of pressure to find a husband and have kids, something she adamantly didn't want. She's incredibly pissed that she now has to spend her afterlife wrangling three of the world's shittiest teenagers.

(Uzuki's the one she tolerates the most. She sees something of herself in her. Kariya she can't get a read on and it unsettles her, especially since he's been around even longer than she or Megumi have. She cannot STAND Sho. Had she survived the fight against Beat and Neku she would've thrown him under the bus the moment she got the chance.)

Also, I like to think that her erasing 777 wasn't necessarily an act of malice or payback, but a strategic move on her part to curb any potential rebellion. The UG's got enough petty bitches, in my mind Konishi doesn't do anything without good reason. The Reaper's Game is eat-or-be-eaten. You break a rule, you face the consequences. No hard feelings, kid. Since no one ever fully trusts anyone else, that kind of "backstabbing" isn't considered particularly abnormal or even "cruel" in a sense, it's par of the course. 777 should have known better.

[dmarchives]

I wrote a whole ass essay on the new songs in a reddit comment, figured I'd crosspost:

Warning: this comment lived its own life and is very long and grumpy. I yell at clouds because they just don't make 'em like they used to.

Yeah, I'm Norwegian. And I love this band, I don't want to sour the mood. Especially since I'm the type of fan that never likes anything new right away. It's true for every book series, show, and band I've ever been into. But I've also missed this band every single day for a decade (I know I sound hyperbolic, but really, I have), and I feel let down. So I'm gonna break my two rules of the internet: Never let it get you in a bad mood and never say anything you wouldn't say to someone's face. Here's the thing:

- DGDEN was just not the sound I was expecting. It sounds like the solo artist Janove we've seen the past decade, with a Kaizers guitar riff jammed in to distract you from the fact that this isn't a Kaizers song. However, the song has grown on me, like they always do. The riff slams. It's still not my favorite, though.

- Kaleidoskophimmel doesn't bode well. It's a Violeta reject and a ballad. Nothing wrong with a ballad, but they usually don't put them front and center like that because they rarely find them to be their most interesting work. The fact that the song from the (rumored) new album they chose as a single is a reject ballad has me worried what the rest is gonna be like.

- It takes an agonizing 2 minutes and 24 seconds for Kaleidoskophimmel to even lift off the ground. And honestly, that single liftoff is the only exciting thing happening here. It's repetitive, musically bland and uninteresting. I can't think of a single other Kaizers song I'd ever describe as either of those things. Even the longest Volum3 songs have a drive to them, Kaleidoskophimmel doesn't.

It all boils down to this: For over a decade, KO had fans that were so devoted to them that people moved to Norway, learned Norwegian, created a forum/social media site for other fans to use, and we used it. a. lot. Some went to well over a thousand concerts and became so familiar faces that the band could pick them out in a crowd of thousands. I went to my first concert when I was eleven. The next 5 years I spent convincing my parents to chaperone me to "just one more, dad, pleeeaaase?" I was devastated when they were gone.

We waited. For a decade. And then they came back. When they released their tickets, fans spent millions. The Oslo concerts alone brought in 38,4 million kroner on ticket sales. Three more cities, but I don't know the capacity of the venues, so I can't do the math on those.

Honestly, after all that, I think we deserve more than a Janove song and a Violeta reject. We've been loyal to them, and I feel let down.

However, I've always been a grumpy goose. I've never liked change. And of course they've changed, it's been ten years. They're allowed to grow, I know. But they still have good taste and good ears, and I don't buy for a second that they think those songs are up to par. And they went ahead with them anyway. Which feels kind of like a betrayal.

[ramblyngrobyn]

Juvenile (Pkmn/Prsk crossover) Prologue notes extended

Okay! So! This is the start of a little big something I've been sitting on for a while. For the last several months (since at least April 2023) I've been occasionally poking at this ever-expanding AU in my phone's notes, adding ideas for story beats and things to do with the characters and world. I always figured I wouldn't actually turn this into a real thing and figured I'd just keep it to my own imagination but the brainworms eventually won, so here I am!

Uh, so I don't know how "good" this is gonna be? Hell even this first chapter I'm already worried that maybe I tried to do too much at once. As I was writing a lot of extra ideas hit me for how I could better build this as a solid foundation of the rest of the story. I wanted every scene to like, matter, yknow? It might just straight up be too long! But any time I considered cutting a scene just to make things more brief I was like "no, no, I need that part". I could have also cut it into multiple chapters but it's the same amount of content so like, what would the point be. If you're wondering, the break points for a 3-chapter version of this would have been Mafuyu showing up at Kanade's place and Kanade seeing the others off at the train station.

Right off the bat, the prologue is a bit different tonally and I wanna talk about that. There's not a super high saturation of Pokemon stuff in this opening! I hope that isn't too weird considering this is a Pokemon AU! I wanted to ease Kanade into it before dropping her in the deep end for the last chunk. When the next chapter hits, we’ll be in full on Poke-mode. This chapter also has a handful of more serious moments, which is par for the course since y'know, Niigo. I actually cut out or edited some bleaker moments because I thought they felt out of place, lol. It's gonna get a lot more consistently lighthearted from here, I promise! (Mostly!)

I have the broad strokes of this story outlined, both in written notes and a map that I scribbled out. I don't have all the details in-between locked in, I'm being flexible there, but I know where I want this to go and generally speaking what I want to do with the whole cast.

I'm not aiming for anything super profound with this, and I have no practical experience in long-form storytelling. Hopefully that doesn't bite me in the butt too hard. Going forward, some chapters might end up being mostly choreographed action, some might be the characters sitting around talking for a few thousand words. At the end of the day, this is just me having fun with my favorite characters in one of my favorite fictional words. I'm trying to not think so hard that I corner myself.

On that note, I think it's worth noting up front that this is very much my version of these characters in my version of Unova. Not in a "my fic don't like don't read" kind of way but like... you might not agree with every choice?

For the most part character origins will have to be built from the ground up, though as you can see from this first chapter I've tried to keep bits and pieces from canon that I think naturally fit. Niigo's origin story is honestly pretty easy to write and intuit around considering they first met remotely. And while I did do a lot of expositing in this opening I think that instead of every character getting an airtight, perfectly laid out backstory, I'll leave some things to the imagination.

As far as the laws of the Pokemon universe goes, it probably goes without saying that I definitely won't be following strict rules from the games. Some Pokemon might end up learning moves that aren't in their learnset, for example (or at least, if they make sense for the Mon in question). Some moves and abilities might have their function tweaked for this context, or I might go for a different interpretation of how the move manifests physically. There’ll be Pokemon that have more than literally four moves. Stuff like that. I'm inserting some headcanons, some ideas that I think fill in gaps in the world building, and there'll be a lot of changes to the design of the world. I joke to myself that this is a "post-globalism Unova", because there's some locations that are really different, a couple totally original locations, and Pokemon here that don't show up in Pokemon BW/2. You could call it "anime logic" if you want, I just think loosening the rules makes things more interesting and fun to write and read. 

One more little nugget: In case you didn't recognize it, the title is from the Jin song made for the Project Voltage collab! It's my favorite song so far from the crossover, it makes me feel so many things. It just felt like a perfect fit for this story vibes-wise, as well as a fun coincidence since I’d been imagining Kanade with an Eevee for months beforehand.

I may run out of steam eventually, but I'm publishing this first chapter because I'm currently feeling fired up about it. Even if the current enthusiasm wanes over time this'll be here for me to poke with an update whenever I want.

I'd love for you to join me on this silly journey, and I hope you can enjoy it!

[sounmashnews]

[ad_1] DUBAI: India head coach Rahul Dravid is not bothered in regards to the quantity of runs scored by his star batter Virat Kohli however is extra involved about how a lot influence his contributions make within the bigger explanation for the group. Kohli's patchy kind and a under par strike-rate coming in at No. 3 has been questioned again and again and for the umpteenth time, Dravid got here to the previous India captain's defence. "He's (Kohli) also coming back after a break, it's nice to see that he's come back fresh, looking forward to playing all these games. He got time to spend in the middle. Hopefully he will kick on from here on and have a good tournament," Dravid stated forward of the Asia Cup Super 4s recreation towards Pakistan. But he as soon as once more tried to claim that Kohli's kind is least of his considerations and in addition urged individuals to not be obsessed about one explicit participant's numbers. "For us, it's not really about how many runs he makes. Especially with Virat, people get a little bit obsessed with his statistics and numbers. For us, it's really not about that," 'The Wall' stated. "It's about the contributions he makes at different phases of the game. It doesn't have to be in 50s or 100s or a stat for us, even a small contribution makes a lot for us in T20s. He's really keen on putting on good performances," Dravid stated. Non-Committal on Ravindra Jadeja knee harmHis lead spin bowling all-rounder Ravindra Jadeja has been dominated out of Asia Cup and can also be set to be out of World T20 as he's set to bear a knee surgical procedure which might rule him out for indefinite interval. However as the top coach has been for different gamers additionally, he remained largely non-committal on Jadeja. "Jadeja clearly has injured his knee. He's underneath the care of the medical group, seeing the consultants. The World Cup is a good manner away. We do not wish to soar to any conclusions, rule him out or rule him in," Dravid stated in his inimitable model. "People get injured, a lot depends on the rehab, severity of the injury. I don't want to rule him out, make too many comments until I have a much clearer picture or better idea especially when the World Cup is six-seven weeks away now," the top coach stated, making an attempt to maintain the seriousness of harm underneath wraps. Indian pacers are efficient not glamorousPakistan's tempo batteries through the years have gained plenty of traction however Dravid is joyful together with his bunch which he feels is efficient to the core. "Of course, they (Pakistan) are a very good bowling side, but we too did well to restrict them to 147. You are judged by the results you produce," Dravid stated earlier than the conflict with arch-rivals. "I would say in numbers they would have hit 145kph, 147kph, we may have been in the 135-125kph mark, swing and or no swing but the bowling performance of our fast bowlers was also pretty good. "I'm assured that we have now bowling assault as nicely that produces outcomes, it won't be as..." Dravid stopped, refraining from using a word. "I needed to make use of a phrase however I am unable to use that phrase (right here). It's popping out of thoughts however I am unable to use it right here," he said, leaving everyone in splits. "It's a 4 letter that begins with s, however it's okay," he added. Avesh a bit under the weatherDravid however did indicate that out of form pacer Avesh KHan is a bit under the weather and could miss Sunday's game. "Avesh is feeling underneath the climate, fever and stuff, docs managing him. Hopefully it isn't critical, okay for tomorrow or later a part of the match," Dravid said. Rishabh Pant is no longer first-choice keeperFor the T20 World Cup, Dravid said that Rishabh Pant isn't the first choice keeper as there won't be any pecking order for him and Dinesh Karthik. The surprise package in their match against Pakistan was omission of Pant as the Rohit Sharma-led side preferred the experienced glovesman in Dinesh Karthik ahead of the flamboyant left-hander.

"There's no first selection wicketkeeper within the aspect... We play in accordance with the circumstances, scenario, opposition and what we really feel is the very best XI. "There's no such a thing as first choice playing XI for every single condition. That will vary. On that day against Pakistan, we felt Dinesh was the right choice for us. But he conceded that it was difficult to leave out Pant. "It's very tough to depart out anybody, however we're targeted on choosing the very best XI. We have a bit of little bit of squad tradition in our aspect who consider that we have now an excellent squad of XV and anybody can play," he stated. !(function(f, b, e, v, n, t, s) )( window, document, 'script', 'https://connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js', );if(typeof window !== 'undefined') [ad_2] Source link

[domesticatedantelope]

proximity

a self-indulgent next door neighbors au for rodaw: best boy’s day

Pairing: Logan x MC

Rating: T

Word Count: 3k

i. 

Logan moves in on the first hot day of summer.

It takes him three long hours in the sun and several trips back up and down the chipped paint staircase at the end of the hall. By the time he maneuvers his beaten old futon mattress through the front door, his arms ache and his t-shirt sticks with sweat between his shoulder blades. 

There’s never much to move: whatever clothes fit in the back of the Devore, and just enough junk furniture to rest his feet on. At the end of the day, his footsteps echo a little too loudly against all the empty wall space, but the place is safe and quiet. And it’s something to call his own. 

He’s hunting through the boxes strewn in landmine fashion across the floor for a clean shirt when a few timid knocks break the silence. He pauses with his arms half-pushed through the sleeves, listening intently, and he thinks he hears a sigh from beyond the door as he approaches.

A quick look through the peephole offers him a fisheye glimpse of freckles and dark curls. The girl outside his door bites down on her bottom lip and fidgets where she stands, finally daring a glance up into the tiny glass lens, where her wide eyes unknowingly meet his own.

The notion sinks in slowly, unfamiliar. 

Logan has relocated more times than he cares to remember — lifted his life by the roots and left the rest behind — but this, he realizes, is a first. 

Because he’s fairly certain people just don’t do this anymore. 

Or at least he was, until his neighbor showed up with a plate of cookies in her hands. 

She startles when he opens the door, the hint of a blush coloring the freckles on her cheeks as she blinks up at him and offers a shy smile. “Hi. Sorry to bother you,” she starts, and the sound of her voice brings the beach to mind, the soft way the waves sigh against the sand. “I know you just got done moving in, but I, um… thought I should introduce myself. I’m Mercy. I live in 104.” She shifts the plate to one hand and holds the other out for him to shake. 

Logan finds himself smiling as he takes it, especially when it makes the blush deepen on her face. “Logan.” He leans against the doorframe with a grin, nodding toward the plate in her hands. “Those for me?”

Her smile widens to match his, more certain. “Only if you like snickerdoodles. Otherwise I will have to insist you let me bake you something else.”

The plate is still warm when she passes it over, a heap of golden cookies piled neatly beneath a shiny slip of plastic wrap. It might be the most wholesome thing he’s ever seen. “Thank you. Really. You didn’t have to do that.”

She averts her gaze then, toying with the tail end of a curl. “Well, my mother would be disappointed if I didn’t do the neighborly thing and welcome you with fresh-baked cookies.” She breathes a nervous laugh, and when she speaks again her words all tumble together in a rush. “Also, I teach piano lessons every other day, and the walls here can be really thin, and I just wanted to say sorry ahead of time, and I promise it’ll only be during business hours, and if we’re ever too loud, you can totally come over and let me know, and—!”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Logan cuts in gently, holding a hand out as if he might stem the tide of her apologies. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. I’m hardly ever home anyways. I can promise it won’t bother me.”

She tugs her lip between her teeth again. “You say that now, but wait until you’re hearing off-key Für Elise for the fifth time in a row. You’ll be begging the landlord to evict me.”

He laughs. “Trust me, Mercy. I wouldn’t do that to you.” He feels a smirk tilt at the corner of his mouth, and drops his voice conspiratorially low. “Besides, I’ve already taken the bribe. No walking back on it now.”

The last of the anxious energy seems to ease from her shoulders when she giggles, and the smile she beams up at him is sweeter even than the smell of cinnamon and sugar. He wonders absently if kissing her would taste like cookies, too. “In that case… I guess we have a deal. The snickerdoodles in exchange for your silence.”

“I’ve had worse deals.”

Her gaze lingers a moment longer on the shape of his smirk before she blinks and glances down the hall toward her own door. “I, um… have some studying I need to get back to, but... it was really nice meeting you, Logan.”

“Not as nice as meeting you,” he assures her smoothly, rewarded by the delicate pink flush that warms her cheeks again. It’s far too easy, summoning that blush; he thinks he could get dangerously used to it. “Thanks again. I’ll bring the plate back as soon as I’m done with it.”

“No rush. You know where to find me.” She arcs a small, cheery wave at him, and he watches the waves of her hair bounce as she walks the short distance back to her apartment. There’s an eager sort of warmth that sits in his chest when he kicks the front door shut behind him. His steps still echo when he walks, but if he’s quiet he can just make out the sound of Mercy moving in the next apartment over, and the noise of nearby life softens the empty feeling in the room. He takes a bite of cookie that melts perfectly on his tongue, and smiles as he settles in to unpack.

ii. 

Logan wasn’t kidding about never being home.

Mercy doesn’t see him for another couple weeks, aside from the short interlude when he drops by to bring her plate back — when the firm broad of his shoulders fill her doorway, and he shoots her that same tempting smile, and it feels like tilting her face up into the sun. The image of it floats across her thoughts, firmly imprinted in the fleeting daydreams between essays and lessons and exams. 

The summer starts to sink its teeth in, bleeding hazy heat waves well into the dark of night. Her shoddy AC unit struggles helplessly against the swelter, and she finds her only solace curled up in a chair below her open window, begging any semblance of a breeze to whisper through. She’s on her third night in a row of letting ice cubes slowly melt against her neck when she hears the unmistakable sound of a window scraping open. The crash of boots on metal quickly follows, and she cranes her neck to peer over the sill and see the familiar shape of dark hair and wide shoulders on the fire escape. 

“Logan?”

He turns at the sound of his name, a grin stretching across his face when he spots her through the window. “Hey, Mercy. You trying to escape the heat, too?”

“Trying,” she confirms, and reaches for the tray of ice at her side, holding it out toward him in lethargic invitation. “Ice cube?”

With a pleasant, rumbly laugh, he plucks a slightly melted ice cube loose and folds his fingers in around it. “Thanks. You know, it’s a lot better out here. Feel like joining me?”

His smile leaves a flutter in her stomach; her daydreams haven’t done it justice. It’s been a while since she clambered through her window, but she manages to climb over the sill with little difficulty. Logan offers her a hand to help her through, his fingers still cold from the ice, only letting her go once her feet are firmly planted on the fire escape. 

And oh, he was so right.

She can’t help a blissful sigh as a breeze lifts at the curled ends of her hair, cooling the flush of heat from her skin. “Oh, my god.”

Logan chuckles knowingly beside her. “Better?”

“The best.” Mercy joins him at the railing, where he rests his elbows and peers out over the darkness of the alley below. An easy quiet settles in the space between them while she revels in the first glimpse of relief she’s felt all night, soothed by the busy melodies of city life around them, voices and laughter and traffic on the distant highway. He’s rolled the short sleeves of his t-shirt up his shoulders, leaving the bronze skin of his arms uninterrupted, and she finds herself almost grateful for the heat when a blush starts to rise in her cheeks. 

He seems to notice her staring, because he arches a brow and tilts his head to smirk down at her. “Come here often?”

Despite her mortification, Mercy laughs. His expression softens at the sound, something tender in the angle of his smile. “Sometimes,” she admits, her finger tracing idle patterns at the metal of the railing. “On clear nights mostly, when I want to see the stars.”

His gaze flickers from her face up to the sliver of night sky barely visible between apartment buildings. “Kinda hard to see the stars from here, isn’t it?”

“It’s not the best view,” she agrees with a quiet laugh. “Just enough to remind me that they’re up there, I guess.”

Abruptly, Logan steps away from the railing, a look of determination forming in the dark of his eyes as he turns to face her. “I want to show you something.”

She blinks, thoughts scattered by the eager way he grins at her. “What is it?”

“A surprise,” he insists teasingly, and holds his hand out to her once more. “Do you trust me?”

Mercy touches his palm, and her heart skips when he folds their hands together. “I do.”

The stairs tremble beneath their feet as they climb steadily higher. Logan glances back at every landing, his grip comfortingly certain around her own. It’s another five flights to the roof, and he slows to a stop at the last ladder to let her ascend first.

The breeze is stronger here, whipping at the loose strands of her hair as she steps out onto the open rooftop. Dark blue sky stretches unobstructed above her, and she tips her head back to drink in the faint sparkle of stars that manage to break out over the city lights. She feels Logan step up beside her, and when she finally tears her eyes away from the stars to meet his gaze, the wonder in his features steals her breath.

This time when her blush returns, she doesn’t look away. “Thank you, Logan. It’s perfect.”

He doesn’t look away either. “Anytime.”

iii. 

His eye still fucking hurts. Every time he blinks, the sting reminds him of wet streets beneath his cheek and the brutal pain of impact, Salazar’s face a snarl of gritted teeth and bleeding mouth and the crunch of his nose breaking under Logan’s fist. He clenches his hand at the memory, feeling the prickle of split skin across his knuckles. 

He doesn’t notice Mercy in the hallway until he’s nearly walking into her, the startled shock of her voice shaking him from his anger. 

“Logan! I’m sorry, I didn’t see — oh, my god, are you okay?” 

Wincing, he angles his injured eye away from her. “It’s nothing. Took an elbow in a pick-up game. It looks worse than it is.”

Something about the concern in her expression eats away at him, like battery acid in the chasm of his chest. Her gaze passes shrewdly from his black eye to his split lip to the busted knuckles in his hands before a frown settles on her mouth. She bites her lip, unconvinced. “Well… at least let me get you something to help with the swelling.” She reaches out to squeeze his fingers before disappearing into her apartment, and he stands frozen in the momentary silence, staring down at his palm, where his hand still feels warm from her touch.

Mercy returns shortly with a bag of frozen peas in her grasp. “Here. This should help with the pain a little, too.”

“You patch up many black eyes?” he teases, bending to let her press the bag gently over his eye. His body tenses at the pressure, teeth biting back a groan, and she murmurs soothingly under her breath, easing her touch until he feels only the cold. Her focus is fixed on his injury, and it leaves him free to admire the soft angles of her face, the beauty mark at the corner of her mouth, the freckles set like stars against her cheeks. A few curls threaten to spring loose from her braid, and his fingers itch to discover how soft they might feel in his hands. 

“Can’t say I do,” she answers finally, when the weight of his gaze makes her blush and look away. “But I was clumsy enough to get all sorts of injuries when I was little, and the frozen peas trick always works.” She checks her phone and mutters an adorably soft curse. “I have a final in half an hour, or I’d stay and—”

“I got it from here,” he reassures her, with a smile half-hidden by the hand keeping her makeshift compress in place. “But thanks for looking after me, Mercy. Honestly. With your help, it feels better already.”

She hesitates a moment longer, clearly torn, before she reaches up and strokes the smooth pad of her thumb over his cheek. “Take care of yourself, okay?” Her features are tight with concern, but she turns and hurries down the hall, the sound of her footsteps fading into a silence that weighs heavy on his shoulders.

iv. 

Mercy lets her fingers move mindlessly across the keys, coasting on a comfortable familiarity, the soft notes of a nocturne soothing out the stresses of her day. Her left hand sidles over broken chords, rising into an arpeggio that’s just about to reach its zenith when the power cuts in her apartment, plunging her into sudden darkness.

She blinks as her eyes struggle to adjust, groping blindly for her phone. The narrow beam of its flashlight guides her careful steps into the kitchen, where she rummages beneath the sink and emerges with a tin of tealight candles. 

It takes the whole container just to light her living room, but at least she can see her own feet. The faint flicker of candlelight is just enough to keep the darkness at bay, and it’s with a calmer heart that Mercy picks her way across the apartment to answer a hurried knock at her door.

Logan stands in the darkened hallway outside, the glow of his cell phone gripped between his fingers. “Hey, sorry, I know it’s late. I heard you playing, so I thought…”

“I was up,” she confirms, blushing as she pictures him in the apartment next door, listening to her practice. “Your power’s out too, I assume?”

“Pitch dark.” He spots the soft halos of light over her shoulder and heaves a sigh of recognition. “Candles. You’re a genius.”

She laughs. “It’s an old building, and definitely not the first time this has happened. I can spare a few, if you need some.”

Logan chuckles, and even through the darkness she can feel the warmth of his gaze on her. “Lucky me. Don’t worry about it, I’m sure it’ll pass soon enough. I feel better knowing you’re okay over here. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

She’s not sure where she finds the courage. Maybe the darkness makes her bold, the sight of Logan turning back to leave clawing a sudden ache into her heart. “Wait!” 

He rocks back on his heels, and she can just make out the arch of surprise in his expression. 

“Maybe you could… stay? Until the power’s back? I hate the thought of you just sitting in the dark over there when you don’t have to.”

Logan takes a slow step closer, close enough to feel a trace of his body heat as he searches her face through the darkness. “Would you like that?” he asks softly. “If I stayed?”

She swallows, nodding even as her face burns with the force of her blush. “Very much.”

He smiles then, and with a gentle motion, lifts his hand to tuck an errant curl behind her ear. “Me too.”

It’s stranger than she thought it would be, having Logan in her apartment, even if she’s spent more and more of her time here thinking of him. They settle in the dim circle of candlelight that rings her living room, stretched out side by side across the floor. His leg shifts, bumping her foot with his own, and she breathes a laugh that shivers in the air between them. When she turns, she finds him watching her, his smile inches away as the light washes soft over his features. 

His dark eyes slowly roam her face, landing on the shape of her mouth with a look of immense purpose. He reaches out to trail rough fingertips along the frame of her jaw, his touch sending a shudder of warmth down her spine. He traces a thumb over her blushing cheekbone, her name a whisper on his breath before he leans in and softly kisses her.

Logan is almost unbearably tender, his lips gentle against her own as his fingers wind into the thick curls of her hair, drawing her into the circle of his arms. Past the rushing of her heartbeat, Mercy hears a faint groan at the back of his throat when she grips him by the shirt to tug him closer, parting her lips for the brief slide of his tongue. 

When they break reluctantly apart, he tilts his forehead against hers with a breathless laugh. “You don’t know how long I’ve been thinking about doing that.” 

She laughs with him, carefree, like her worries have all floated off and vanished somewhere in the dark. “Probably about as long as I have.”

His eyes flash with amusement, and a flicker of something else, an ardor close to hunger. “Then we’ve got some time to make up for.”

Mercy falls eagerly into his arms, where she feels his heartbeat racing in his chest, and he kisses her until the lights hum back to life around them — and then, even, a while longer. 

[faeflowerz]

Happy Birthday Vil Schoenheit! 🦚

I finally got around to reading his chapter so this is fresh in my thinkpan.

Vil is that guy who i would absolutely love to have in my life. He's a kind man but he has a way of showing it that many deem unconventional and harsh. I like it. I NEED someone to hold me accountable for my bad habits and Vil is relentless in his efforts to make any potato useful. Does he push too far? Sometimes. But honestly, i wouldn't mind having someone who can bite back. Im too bratty.

But i wont bore yall with my love of blonde men who are probably strong enough to snap my neck. We gotta talk about Vil!

So I think I learned a lot about Vil in such a short amount of time thanks to finishing chap 5. I learned that he’s quite...expressionless. I noticed while doing lessons that he doesn’t open his mouth that wide when he talks. Idk why i noticed it, but it's interesting. He also mentions that he's usually stoic because hes so goal oriented.

And that's his problem. Vil doesn't show us how he feels. Like the other leaders, his complex is exacerbated by his mask. Vil doesn't allow himself to be a young man who emotes. There's one scene in chap 5 where one of the guys notes its weird to hear him refer to himself as a young man. He's so mature that many forget that hes only 18. He's not even the eldest out of all the seniors (fae + leona excluded). And he takes offense.

But Vil, by design, you continue to perpetrate an image of yourself that makes people forget that you're a baby. You are a child, especially when you nearly poisoned Neige for just existing. Your reaction to him proves that you're immature and it's okay to be immature.

Actually, let's discuss his relationship with Neige. Vil is forcing all of his energy into this guy who thinks the world of him. So much so that he's (literally) grooming Epel to be some weapon of mass destruction. Sure, Epel is a little goblin, but making him into a show dog won't resolve your feelings towards Neige. Like, Neige LOVES him some Vil. Look at this

I think it's because Vil doesn't want to accept Neige's love. I mean like, the guy sings his praises like everyone else but when it comes to Neige, he brushes it off or even gets Hostile. Neige brings out that immaturity in him, and it breaks our imagination of Vil. He's still a child in many ways.

Thats the aries in him taking. A common trait for some is their immaturity, temper, and RECKLESSNESS. The gap moe between Vil's facade and the emotions he has to force himself to suppress is so fascinating!

That being said, no. I don't think Diasomnia is his fit. Sure, the reasoning is solid, but he's fit for Heartslabyul way more. Of course, I'd love to see him in everyone's uniform, but Vil's strict and meticulous nature is quite on par with the QoH. He does carry Dia's elegance, but i unno, i just think it'd be fun to see him in an environment that has such unique rules. Plus, he would probably meet his match with how unkempt the 1st years are there. It's wacky, diverse and i think vil needs to be put out his comfort zone.

What do i wanna see with him? Well, that's just it. I want to see Vil uncomfortable and vulnerable to the people who love him. He's surrounded by people who adore and respect him. He has a prolific career and lots of promise in any road he picks in life. He's beautiful on the inside. But...Vil doesn't believe it. Ive been there. I've doubted myself because there's someone who i think is better than me. And it freaks me out...Neige isn't better than Vil. Vil isn't better than Neige. They compliment each other outside of their villain/hero archetypes, especially when Vil lets Neige pull him along.

Can yall l tell i hardcore ship em? I just think Neige is a better hype man than Rook. He needs emotional support and I want to see Vil emotionally vulnerable.

Oh! I also want to briefly touch on Vil's gender expression. I adore it. Some people have defined headcanons for his gender, but I just think it's nice to have a GNC guy in an isekai game...a DISNEY isekai game. Vil is certainly unapologetic in how he presents himself. I adore that aspect of him. In fact, it makes his dynamic with Epel that more interesting. Epel is a dirty country boy (who would totally be a little homophobic) who is so sure that he needs to be a manly man's man. Vil's masculinity is subtle but striking. He's tall, powerful, and demands people make room for him. At the same time, he wears heels, makeup and even uses pronouns that are (usually) used by women. His beauty covers all aspects of the word.

I think that's all i gotta say. His interview with trey was kind of uneventful. It's cute how Trey was excited to throw the pie at him tho. And i love that he has a ponytail. I wanna pull it so bad. Out of all the third years, Vil is my top three, which is a high honor since i...uh, well, let's say the younger ones get my attention more.

With all that said, yaaas kaween slaay.

Happy Birthday Vil Schoenheit! 🦚

[shutupandwriteclub]

Becky from Shakespeare House interviews Joseph from Tolkien

1. How old were you when you started writing?

I first started writing when I was nine, as you can probably guess I had no grasp on the rules of grammar- or anything for that matter. It wasn't until I was twelve that I discovered I had a passion for creating an intricate world of fantasy that could transport a reader to a completely different world, away from real life problems that we want to escape.

2. What was the first story you wrote and what was the title?

I actually started with fanfiction before I moved onto writing original books. The first 'book' I wrote was a story called 'Return', it was part of the 'How to train your dragon' fanfiction and was about the protagonist, 'Hiccup' being kidnapped and turned into a war fugitive 'working' for the enemy. Until he meets his wife, she brings out the old him and then I think they fought in this massive battle. The grammar was/is terrible in that book, it was basically a script with descriptions.

3. What would you say is your main genre you write?

I mainly write in the Fantasy Genre, but I have also dabbled in the Sci-Fi Genre as well.

4. What do you think is the best story you have written?

'The Sword and the Swordmaster', it's my current and though the first chapters are plagued with errors (first draft) it is one of if not my best work yet.

5. Out of all the characters you have written about, who do you think is your favourite?

'Richard Braveheart', he is the protagonist in my current book. He has this relatable feeling to him- to me anyways, as much as he harnesses certain powers (won't divulge what they are as I don't want to spoil the plot) he still remains this kind, compassionate and humane man who hopefully we can all relate to.

6. What is your advice to younger writers and to those who have just started?

Well most would consider me a young writer. But if I were to give advice it would be to learn to take the hate and criticism on the chin, a boxer by the name of Roberto Duran once said: “Getting hit motivates me. It makes me punish the guy more. A fighter takes a punch, hits back with three punches.” The morale of this quote is to never allow someone to put you down, and if they do get back up and hit back three times harder by getting better, achieving your dreams and getting further than anyone ever expected. Your dream should not be to see how far you'll get it should be about what it'll be like looking down from the top.

7. Where do you see your writing in 5 years time?

In five years time I see myself with multiple books written, working on another. Fighting to get onto the bestseller lists on the likes of Amazon and hopefully making it. I see myself giving back to the people that helped me get to where I will be, and working hard to achieve more.

8. What book are you currently writing?

Currently I am writing a Fantasy Novella called 'The Sword and the Swordmaster'. It is a prequel to my original series 'The Chronicles of Aydindrale'. I never saw the point in releasing books and then releasing a set of books dated prior to them- not that I'm saying I'll never do this, but since I have the option now I thought I would establish my world, the stories of certain characters and the backstory behind the family that will take a heavy presence in the main series in what hopefully will be a 'Fantasy Epic'!

9. Have you ever thought about publishing your work either self publishing or traditional?

Yes I have, I was actually looking into Amazon self publishing recently. As much as I'm getting ahead of myself slightly it's something I'd love to do so I look into every now and then to see what I would need to do in order to get my book out there.

10. Have you ever experienced writers block and how do you cope with it?

Yes many times, I actually just got back to writing from a break of about two months due to writers block. I cope with it in a slightly unusual way, some writers stare at their screen listening to music, some watch a movie and others go for a walk. I'll try all of these and usually- for me, they don't work. So I take a break. I put my book to the side and come back to it in a day, a week or even a month, with a fresh mind that wants to write rather than a head that is actively fighting against me writing.

11. How do you feel your work has improved since you first started writing?

Well as mentioned above I actually know how to write properly, how to structure my writing and the correct rules of grammar now. Back when I started I literally had a script with massive blocks of description. The dialogue didn't even have a 'He said' or 'Richard whispered'.

12. What is the most important thing to remember when starting a new book?

That it is your world, your book and your imagination. In our world something might be impossible but in yours it doesn't have to be. For all I know, you could have every human have the ability to shoot lasers out of their eyes, fly with a swing of their fist or crush a block of cement with their mind. I can't do anything or say it's impossible to you as it is your book. Take it like a blank canvas in art, when I start painting my brush flows with paint leaving a trail- a story behind.

13. What would you say makes your current book unique?

There is a lot that I personally think makes it unique, for one, my style of writing. This isn't me saying that my style is in anyway superior to others but it is different which is what makes something unique. On top of this my stories always have deep, deep history's no where near on par with the likes of 'Lord of the Rings', but on that sort of track. Also I think that my characters really make my story unique, I try to connect the reader to them so that should something happen the reader is genuinely worried for their safety or if two characters who have clearly liked each other for so long but don't do anything the reader is egging them on to get together. I hope this comes across in my writing as it is what I set out to accomplish.

14. Where can your readers follow you on social media?

I don't really use social media for my writing, other than Wattpad of course. The only social media I use is my personal accounts which I won't divulge as I prefer to keep my private life, private. I do have a twitter account for my writing, but it is never used. I may start using it to update 'readers' when my book gets updated as I'm currently only updating chapters on irregular intervals whilst I finish the book so that my readers don't get bored or angry at such a long wait time. Social Medias:

Wattpad: @Joseph-Hill

Twitter (Not used often): @JosephGHill

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK]

See also: @pankite​

Elsa's white-dusted fingertips scrabbled for purchase on the rocks nailed to the boards of the wall in front of her. Dozens of small eyes drilled into her back from below, waiting to see how she would perform and hoping to learn as much as they could before the same was expected of them. Her knees shook as she peered upward, lowering her lashes to block out the piercing sunlight, trying to find a path to the top.

They had no way of knowing that she was having so much trouble not because she wasn't good at rock climbing. She was. In fact, she was above average at every single camp activity, even if she wasn't the best. No, there was another reason.

As she raised her foot to give herself a push up higher, her mind went back where it had every few minutes since that moment the night before. That moment with Anna's lips on hers, fists clamped down on her lapels to bring her down to her level.

To the dare gone wrong.

"Why?" she grunted as she reached up for another rock. Luckily, up so high above the crowd of campers gathered below, no one else could hear her express her thoughts to herself so long as she didn't raise her voice. "Why… did I have to… listen to Olaf?!"

Elsa was keenly aware of Anna's gaze on her from where she stood with the kids and though she couldn't look down and see her, she could hear the obvious concern in Anna's voice when she called, "You alright up there? Do you need me to come up?"

"NO!" she shouted back down toward the ground. "I've got this!" Then to the campers, "It's okay to… take a break, if you're feeling dizzy or tired! That's what your belayer is for, to make sure you… don't fall!"

"It's also okay to come down once you hit your limit so you don't overexert yourself!" Anna explained, loud enough for Elsa to hear. Her tone was scolding and when Elsa gave her an irritated glare in response, she was briefly struck at how much Anna looked like an exact replica of their scowling mother with her hands on her hips and her brow furrowed like that. "It's not a competition and it's not about showing off. This is about having fun and enjoying ourselves."

Luckily, Elsa was too high up for Anna to see her curl her lip in annoyance. Still, instead of answering, she merely pushed herself to finish the climb.

But with every step, every reach for a new handhold, she was still thinking of how bashful Anna looked while getting ready to pull her closer. How earnest her lips had been, how practiced… and then how fearful she looked when she pulled away. No matter if it had been her own fault for daring her sister to do it, she still couldn't shake that such a thing was very abnormal. She had been expecting it to feel disgusting, to laugh about it afterward. Maybe to push her away. But instead…

Her cheeks flushed as she grunted with the effort of pulling up again, moving her foot an inch to the left to keep from slipping off. She hated that reaction; blushing about nothing. She hated that Anna had stolen her first kiss. She hated that she had no one to blame for that except herself. What else did she think would happen when she made that a condition for Anna to be unfrozen for the game? She knew from the past that Anna could be stubborn and fiercely competitive when the situation called for it, which was why Elsa purposely nudged that particular button. This was par for the course.

Why would she provoke her? What was the point? She didn't even know now; she couldn't retrace her thought patterns anymore.

"Miss Elsa! Watch your step!" Olaf called up and a murmur went up amongst the kids when they too noticed that Elsa's leg was starting to slip from its perch.

"I… I have it!" she called back down at him, annoyed. And that was the only break in concentration needed; instead of adjusting her footing, the time she had taken to shout down at him meant her foot slipped off.

With a little gasp, she felt her hands start to scrabble and leave the rocks, and then she was freefalling. Anna was quick to get to work despite the clear panic on her face, adjusting everything properly so Elsa wouldn't abruptly hit the solid earth below.

Once Elsa had touched down, shaken yet unharmed, her sister rushed over, placed a hand on her shoulder and demanded, "Are you alright?!"

Pushing up from a crouch, Elsa brushed off her knees, ignoring Anna's question for the moment. She instead answered it by turning to the frightened campers and announcing, "See? Even if you do lose your grip, nothing bad's going to happen. Your belayer is your friend, and don't forget that. At the same time, belayers need to remember how important their job is; you can't slack off. Anna had my back, just like always."

The last three words had slipped out, and she felt a little silly for having gushed about her sister that way in front of the entire cabin, but she found she didn't want to take them back. Regardless of how weird it had been last night, she couldn't deny her sister was a good partner to have. Even if…

If she was lying about the presents. And the calls, and letters. But the more time went on, the harder and harder it was to believe Anna was capable of that kind of deception. She wouldn't have believed it of her mother, either, but Anna was just so open and earnest! What was she supposed to believe? The internal conflict made her head hurt.

While Anna had worn a frown on her face about her question being ignored, there was a happy warmth in her eyes as she gave Elsa's back a pat. "Okay," she spoke up and the flock of heads turned from inspecting Elsa to Anna in an instant. "Well said, Elsa; we all have to work together to keep each other safe and rock climbing is one of the most important lessons for that very rule. Now… buddy up and let's get you kids up there, hmm?" She beamed as the kids cheered before turning back to her sister.

"Thank you, Elsa," she said softly, low enough that if Elsa wasn't beside her, it would've been lost in the chatter. "It's an honor to have your back."

"I know it's part of the exercise," Elsa said in just as low a tone, breath ragged, "but… thank you for spotting me. No matter how you look at it, you saved me from getting seriously hurt just now. All because I… I was stupid and careless."

"Hey." Anna took Elsa's hands in hers and rubbed her thumbs over the knuckles. "I'm always going to be here for you now… so I can keep you safe from the next time you act stupid and careless." She chuckled softly. "As long as you share the same courtesy."

That was an easy exchange to make. Smiling gently, she drew Anna in for a hug. "Definitely. Even if things have been hard between us, I'm never going to let you be hurt if I can help it. That's what sisters do."

Anna's cheeks gained a charming pink tinge as she hugged Elsa back, humming contentedly as she briefly snuggled against her.

"Does this mean you proposed? Are you going to get married soon?!" Olaf's excited voice broke the moment and Anna pulled sheepishly away to look at the boy.

"OLAF!" Elsa snapped at him, hands going to her hips. "I thought we spoke about this before! You are going to have a strike against you if you ignore that request again! Is that clear?"

Olaf blinked up at Elsa before looking down at the ground. "I was just asking," he mumbled dejectedly. "You guys are obviously in love… and I want you to be happy… is that really so wrong, Miss Elsa?"

Anna sighed and gave Elsa a look. "Olaf… listen. Me and Elsa are girls." She carefully stressed the word to the boy. "We aren't allowed to get married in the first place, and we can get into a lot of trouble if you keep insisting that we do, understand?"

"That's right," Elsa added, reaching over to grip his shoulder. Anna had sufficiently shamed her out of her reprimanding tone, and she now felt like she had to make up for it. "Especially in this camp. So we have to insist that you stop saying such things. Of course we care about each other very much, but it isn't… we aren't getting married."

Olaf tilted his head and finally, he nodded. "Okay, Miss Elsa, I won't say it anymore. I really don't understand why you would get in trouble for being in love, though." He beamed up at them both until a shout from Mark caught his attention. "Oh! It's our turn!"

Just like that, the boy was gone and Anna and Elsa were left alone again. Anna chuckled, "He's such a cute kid but he's so weird!"

"Right?" Elsa tittered. "It's sweet. He must have noticed our sister-bond and mistaken it for a romantic-bond. He'll figure out why that's wrong when he grows up, probably."

Anna's eyes sparkled with mirth. "I'm sure you're right. He's still a kid yet and from what he's told me, his Dad is actually a more progressive parent so that probably helps his imagination." She looked up at the wall, watching as Carver and Mark steadily made their ways up to the top of the wall while Tino and Olaf secured them from below. "Besides, we are kind close for sisters, huh?"

"We are. I mean, the past few years notwithstanding. But before that…" The time had passed to withhold her feelings, to close herself off completely. She leaned over very slightly and bumped her with her elbow. "Really missed you. Didn't want to admit how much, but I have."

"I missed you, too, Elsa. So much." Anna leaned against Elsa's side and gave her a look of pure adoration. Than she tilted her head up to lay a small kiss on Elsa's jaw. "You don't know how happy it makes me to hear you say that."

But Elsa didn't respond. The kiss, simple as it was, clearly platonic as it was, made her heart pick up in speed, and she felt acutely aware of her closeness to her sister. With an awkward cough, she reached up to ruffle Anna's hair before she took a step away to the side. Just enough to separate them. Then she looked over at the kids to distract herself.

"S-Sorry about that." Anna blushed scarlet when Elsa stepped away from her. "I forgot you don't much like touching."

"Okay, Carver — no showing off up there!" Carver was waving down at the others with a large, cocky grin on his face but he turned wide eyes towards Elsa at the shout and clung right back to the wall in embarrassment. Then she glanced down at Anna. "What was that?"

She gave Elsa a timid smile before she glanced at her watch, a look of surprise appearing on her face. "Nothing. Hey, we should get the kids down. Bible study is in ten minutes."

"You're right." Clearing her throat, she cupped her hands to her mouth. "Begin your final descent! Climbing wall time is over!"

Then, no longer yelling, she told Anna, "I don't mind you touching me, though." Realising how that came out, she hurried to amend, "H-hugging me, or… you know. Normal things. You're my sister, it's not as weird as it would be with other people. Strangers."

"O-Oh." Anna giggled nervously and started playing with one of her braids. "Okay, great! I'm a bit of a physical person, as you probably remember from back then. It drives my friend Kristoff crazy because he's such a solitary grump, but he's just really nice and sturdy to hug!" She beamed happily.

While the campers began to run past them toward the pavilions set up for devotionals, Elsa shouted, "Careful!" Then to Anna, she muttered, "Kristoff, hmm? You didn't tell me you had a friend Kristoff." The emphasis was pretty clear that she meant more than just a friend, but she didn't want to be too mean about that. Not when she was still feeling out her relationship with Anna again.

"Did I never mention him?" Anna looked surprised. "Kristoff is our neighbour. He moved to Winnipeg around… four years ago? I was dating Hans at the time and one day Kristoff approached me to tell me he didn't trust him and that I should dump him. Our first meeting ended with him having a busted nose and a bruised ego." Anna grinned at the memory. "Turns out Kristoff was right about him, though, and we've been best friends ever since. He's almost like… like a big brother." Anna gave Elsa a cheeky grin. "But he never replaced you as my favourite person, so don't look so jealous!" she teased.

"Wh-what?" Elsa blustered with a little laugh, folding her arms over her chest defensively. "Who said I looked jealous?" She had the sneaking suspicion she might have, though. After all, this Kristoff got to spend years on end with Anna when Elsa got none of them. Regardless of the reason they had been kept apart, that was still a pain that wouldn't go away for a while.

"Hey," Anna said soothingly, "it's okay. I'm honestly a little flattered and I'm pretty jealous of your best friend, too… whoever she is."

They both went quiet and simply observed the kids as they gathered their things and chattered to each other, all heading towards the chapel. Anna's voice went a little quiet as she said, "Kristoff helped me a lot through the years… during the days when I missed you the most, even though I always wanted to be in your arms rather than his…" She wrapped her arm around Elsa's shoulder and pulled her close, snuggling into her side. "But now I'm never going to miss you again, because I'm never going to disappear on you again. Or let you disappear on me."

A slight thrill shot into Elsa's stomach. A promise like that was a tall one, but she heard the earnestness in her voice, felt it in the arm on her shoulder. And the more she got to know this new sister of hers, the Anna Saunders of modern day… the more she couldn't help but trust her.

Still, what she said about being in her arms was concerning. Between that and the kiss? Silly as Olaf was, maybe he was sensing something there that she was ignorant of. But that was ludicrous. Women didn't really feel things like that for each other — especially not ones related to each other. No, any feelings like those were purely physical. Sin of the flesh, for deviants and those who had lost their way.

And Elsa was not going to lose her way… especially not if it meant tainting her beautiful little sister.

                                      To Be Continued...