#his joy and whimsy has enchanted me

[scaredstupid]

*insert corny ass caption here*

image that this was loosely based on under the cut

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Ten Things I Love About You.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - my boyfriend recently gave me a promise ring for our three year anniversary and i wanted to write something similar but make it even better for you guys <3 enjoy!

word count - 4k

in which, it’s you and your boyfriend harry’s, three year anniversary and he makes it a night to remember in a place that makes up your memories with him.

As you step out of the warm, soothing cascade of water, droplets cling to your skin, glistening like tiny diamonds in the light. Your hair, still damp and heavy, cascades down your back, its strands tangled yet soft to the touch. The fluffy towel wrapped snugly around your body provides a comfortable embrace, insulating you from the chill of the air.

You pad gently across the bathroom tiles, each step a whisper against the cool flooring. With a graceful fluidity, you approach the sink, where your moisturizer awaits. The smooth marble countertop feels cool beneath your palms as you squeeze a dollop of moisturizer onto your fingertips.

With delicate precision, you begin to massage the velvety lotion onto your skin, feeling its silky texture glide effortlessly over your flesh. Your practiced hands move in gentle circular motions, spreading the moisturizer evenly, nourishing your body and leaving behind a subtle, intoxicating scent.

Turning your attention to your hair, you grab hold of the hairdryer, feeling its reassuring weight in your hand. The sound of its soft hum fills the air, accompanied by the warm breeze it emits. As you guide the nozzle through your hair, your fingers comb through the damp strands, untangling any knots with calming strokes.

The blow dryer's warm airflow kisses your scalp, gently coaxing your hair to dry. The wetness begins to recede, replaced by a soft warmth that embraces each strand, giving it life and vitality. As you continue to work your way through your hair, your movements are slow and deliberate, mindful of creating a smooth and polished finish.

Minutes pass, and as you glance into the mirror, you see your reflection looking back at you - refreshed, radiant, and confident. The moisture has evaporated, leaving your hair glossy and bouncy. Your skin, now hydrated and supple, glows with a natural radiance. With a satisfied smile, you turn off the hairdryer and take a moment to revel in the simple pleasure of self-care.

Today was a special day.

Exactly three years ago today, you met your boyfriend Harry;today was your three year anniversary.

As you stood there in front of the mirror in your and his shared bathroom in his Italian villa, peering through the glass, your mind drifted back to that enchanting moment three years ago when you first met him. It was a memory etched in your heart, full of whimsy and the promise of something extraordinary.

The pet shop was bustling with activity, vibrant with the colours and sounds of various creatures. Your attention was fixed on the fish tank, contemplating the perfect pet to gift your father for his birthday. Lost in thought, your gaze wandered, and that's when your eyes met Harry's through the glass.

A smile blossomed on both your faces, as if you had discovered a secret connection. It was a moment suspended in time, a spark igniting between two strangers. The air crackled with an unspoken invitation, and you couldn't help but be drawn to each other.

Breaking the invisible barrier, Harry made his way to your side. His voice, smooth and playful, danced with a hint of charm.

"Y’know," he began, his eyes twinkling mischievously, "I couldn't help but feel like Romeo when our eyes met through this fish tank. Although, thankfully, we don’t have any feuding families t’worry about."

He took in a small breath as he looked at you, before offering you a pearly white smile. “M’harry.”

Your laughter mingled with the ambient noise of the pet shop, creating a symphony of joy. "Well, I'm (Y/N), and it's a pleasure to meet my Romeo," you replied, a flirtatious glimmer in your eyes. His confidence and quick wit matched your own, setting the stage for a delightful encounter.

Unfazed by the unconventional setting, Harry continued the banter, his words laced with playful flirtation. "I hope I didn't startle you, (Y/N). I was actually searching for a fish to congratulate my sister on her graduation. But seeing you here makes me believe that perhaps destiny had a different plan in mind."

A knowing smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you leaned slightly closer, enjoying the magnetic energy that enveloped you both.

The second he told you his name, that was enough clarification for the thoughts that were floating through your brain. You knew who he was. He was Harry Styles, the curly headed boy from One Direction and you never envisioned yourself actually talking to him, let alone a full on conversation.

You knew he was eighteen, the same age as you, and he was cute, just enough cute filled with just enough good looking-ness.

And so, amidst the laughter and the shared anticipation, you and Harry embarked on a delightful conversation that wove through stories of pets and dreams, laughter and stolen glances. It was a meeting that defied the ordinary, leaving an indelible mark on your hearts.

In that pet shop, the world around you faded into the background, and it was just the two of you, entwined in a dance of flirtation and burgeoning affection. Little did you know, in that fleeting moment, you had found not just a fish for Harry's sister, but a connection that would blossom into a beautiful love story—one that still thrives today, three years later.

For your three year anniversary, your boyfriend had whisked the two of you away for a little romantic break in the city that the two of you simply adored.

Tuscany.

The city held so many memories for you as a couple. Memories that would last a lifetime in your heart as long as you got to spend it with him.

It was your first holiday as a couple,

It was where you first said ‘i love you’,

It was where you had your first fight as a couple,

It was the first holiday he invited you on with his family and the place where he realised that you were the one.

The two of you had arrived a week ago and we’re going to be staying for just over a month, and for those seven days you did nothing but relax, going for a dip in the pool, going for walks into the local market so you could cook meals together, you spent your mornings in bed, where a round of endless love making took place.

Tuscany was the perfect getaway, especially now that Harry was going to have a lot of time off now that the band was going on an indefinite hiatus.

In the evenings, you usually sat on the beach that was right outside the back door, staring up at the stars, a little blanket covering both of your shoulders as you just talked about anything and everything.

Sometimes, there was no talking involved, just the presence of one another was enough to keep the other grounded.

Early this afternoon, Harry had come up to you as you were sunbathing, and whispered in your ear that he was getting some to cook for the two of you later that evening, so you could have some quality one on one time together, not having to fuss about cooking, and gave the two of you an excuse to dress up a little.

As the warm afternoon sun bathed the luxurious villa in a golden glow, you found yourself lounging on the comfortable double cabana seat, relishing the opportunity to catch a nice tan. The gentle breeze played with the strands of your hair, carrying with it the whispers of relaxation and tranquillity.

Lost in the tranquillity of the moment, your eyes closed as you basked in the soothing warmth. However, your peaceful reverie was soon interrupted by the presence of your loving boyfriend, who had just emerged from the pool. His bare feet padded softly across the pool deck as he approached you from behind.

With a soft smile, Harry gently spooned you, his presence enveloping you like a comforting embrace. The water droplets cascading from his damp body landed upon your sun-kissed skin, eliciting a delightful sensation that made you squirm slightly, unable to contain your playful delight.

His shoulder-length hair tickled your face ever so gently, the soft tendrils brushing against your cheeks as he leaned in closer. His tattooed arm gracefully draped across your waist, securing you in his affectionate hold. The touch of his skin against yours sent a tingling warmth radiating through your body, a reminder of the intimacy and connection you shared.

In that idyllic moment, Harry whispered softly into your ear, his voice carrying the sweetest of promises. "Tonight, m’love, I have a surprise for you. I've made a reservation for a private chef for seven thirty."

A surge of excitement coursed through your veins, your heart fluttering with anticipation. His thoughtfulness and attention to detail never ceased to amaze you, and tonight was no exception. The mere mention of your favourite restaurant ignited a spark of joy within you, knowing that an evening of shared laughter, good food, and cherished memories awaited.

With a contented sigh, you turned to face Harry, your eyes meeting him with affection and gratitude. "You always know how to make me smile, Harry," you murmured, your voice filled with adoration. "I can't wait for tonight. It's going to be perfect, just like you."

His smile mirrored yours, a reflection of the love that blossomed between you. In that serene oasis, surrounded by love and the promise of a memorable evening, you both reveal the simple yet profound joy of being together.

As the afternoon sun continued its gentle descent, casting a warm glow upon your entwined bodies, you remained wrapped in each other's arms, cherishing the quiet moments and eagerly anticipating the delightful surprises that awaited you on this enchanting day.

So here you currently are, standing in front of the mirror in the en-suite, the villa that your boyfriend had brought for the two of you just over two years ago as a symbol of the love you had for each other.

You stared on your makeup, priming your face before applying concealer, some bronzer and then some blush. Followed by some mascara and lipstick.

Curling your hair was the next task.

With gentle precision, you reach for the curling iron, its sleek design nestled in the palm of your hand. The handle, cool to the touch, becomes an extension of your intent, poised to create a tapestry of curls that will adorn your shoulders and frame your face.

As you part your hair into sections, like an artist preparing their palette, each strand becomes an individual masterpiece awaiting your touch. The curling iron, now warmed to the perfect temperature, hovers near your hair, radiating a soft heat that promises transformation.

The mirror reflects the culmination of your efforts—a magnificent crown of curls that radiate with beauty and personality. Each ringlet tells a story of its own, a testament to your meticulous care and artistry. They dance and shimmer in the light, catching every gaze and leaving an indelible impression.

You run your fingers gently through the curls, feeling the softness and bounce of each strand. They are a tactile testament to the dedication and skill that went into their creation. The sensation is luxurious, as if your hair has transformed into a velvety tapestry, inviting touch and admiration.

Leaving the en-suite behind, you enter the sanctuary of your bedroom, a space where comfort and personal style intertwine. The air is infused with a sense of anticipation as you make your way toward the expansive walk-in wardrobe, a treasure trove of fashion possibilities.

As you step inside, the gentle illumination from the soft lighting illuminates the array of garments, each one a reflection of your evolving tastes and individuality. The wardrobe stands as a testament to your unique fashion journey, holding a collection of memories and self-expression.

Your eyes survey the options, gliding over the rows of dresses, blouses, and skirts, as if embarking on a sartorial adventure. Each garment holds the promise of a different mood or persona, waiting for you to bring it to life. The vibrant colours and intricate patterns beckon, while the textures whisper tantalisingly against your fingertips.

Amidst the sea of choices, you navigate with purpose, your fingers lightly grazing the fabrics as you consider the possibilities. It's a moment of introspection, where your personal style converges with the occasion at hand, as if the clothes themselves hold the power to shape your mood and set the tone for the day.

For tonight, you had decided to wear a turquoise dress with a heart shaped neckline, the sleeves were puffy and the skirt was short but flowy, allowing just the right amount of air to rise up it, making it feel more comfortable. It was a dress that his mother Anne had gifted you for your birthday, saying that it was perfect for you.

It really was.

Exciting the wardrobe where you placed the dress on your body, you made your way over to the vanity where you picked up your favourite perfume and gave it a little spritz over your body, the cross necklace that matched the one of your love hanging between your breasts, and your shoes were some white heels that made you just that little bit taller.

Hearing the bedroom door open behind you, you looked over your shoulder and welcomed the presence of the man that held every aspect of your heart, his outfit simply taking the breath away from your lungs.

He had gotten changed in the en-suite whilst you were getting changed in the walk-in wardrobe, having gotten in the shower after you were finished in there and he was wearing one of his and your favourite suits for the night.

The suit was a light blue going on turquoise colour, the jacket and pants matching whilst a sheer white top was underneath, making the tattoos on his torso more insinuating.

You had absolutely no idea that the two of you were going to be matching tonight, your dress was a spare of the moment decision seeing as you were close to wearing a light pink dress, luckily your mind had been swayed.

You stood up straighter and brushed your hands against the skirt of the dress, your heels clicking along the floor as you made your way to stand in front of him.

And the second you stood in front of him, his green orbs flitted over your figure and to the material hugging your body, the lace of your bra you had decided to wear showing ever so slightly over the neck line, making his mouth water.

He leaned forward slightly, his hair that was usually down in a man bun due to the heat, and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, the mint of his chewing gum hitting your senses. “Y’look absolutely breathtaking, amore mio.”

You felt your cheeks heating up at his compliment and you couldn’t help but shy away from his touch. Don’t get you wrong, you absolutely adored when he complimented you as it made you feel that much better in yourself. Another thing that made your love for him grow deeper and deeper.

“Thank you,” you reached your manicured hand forward and adjusted the colour of his suit that seemed to have stood up. “You don’t look to bad yourself.”

“Thank you, baby,” he interlocked his hand with yours, the feelings of his rings cool against your skin. “Are you ready to go outside soon?”

“Yeah, just let me grab my clutch bag and then we can go outside.”

The private chef was named Andre.

He turned up at the villa at seven twenty seven, and introduced himself to the two of you before he made his way to the kitchen to get started on everything.

Harry had set up a little table outside on the beach leading to your back garden. There were fairy lights and candles, a little umbrella in case it rained and to keep the heat at bay, whilst a bunch of flowers.

You and Harry find yourselves enveloped in the intimate ambiance of the outdoors, the air buzzing with excitement and the anticipation of a delightful evening. As you settle into the comfortable chairs, the gentle hum of waves creates a soothing backdrop.

Engaging in effortless conversation, you lean in closer to Harry, the spark of connection igniting between you. With a playful smile, you suggest, "You know what I was thinking we should do some day this week? I think we should go to the market, I live looking at all the crochet items they sell, was thinking we could get something matching, What do you think?"

Harry's eyes light up, mirroring your enthusiasm. "That sounds lovely, amore mio ," he responds, his voice filled with genuine excitement. " love looking round all the markets with you, love the way your eyes light up when you find something you really like."

A sense of shared adventure envelops you, as the possibilities for tomorrow come alive in your minds. The beach and the market become a canvas, waiting to be painted with memories and discoveries. Your words intertwine, weaving dreams of leisure and exploration into a tapestry of anticipation.

The two of you were currently eating the dessert that Andre had made for the two of you..

For appetisers, Andre had made a prawn cocktail.

For entree, Andre had made a classic pesto pasta with a hint of chilli.

And for dessert you were sharing a lemon cheesecake which was entirely Harry’s idea for him to make, because according to him, sharing things brought the two of you closer.

“Can you believe that we’ve been together for three years?”

You shifted your attention over to your boyfriend from where it was once occupied by looking over at the water that was getting closer to your feet.

“It’s flown by way too quickly,” you informed him, a sigh of contentment falling from your lips. “That’s for sure.”

When you met Harry in the pet shop that day, you never expected for anything to come out of it. Sure you had a good chat together and he thought you were pretty, but due to his career you thought that he would simply move on from you in the blink of an eye.

But he took your number that day and even went for a coffee afterwards with the fish that you both brought. It was when his career was only just starting so not a lot of people knew him, so the paps weren’t an issue.

His management didn’t like you, they didn’t like the fact he was seeing a girl that wasn’t famous and in the limelight, but he simply told them to sod off, and that he loved you so you weren’t going anywhere.

A week after your meeting he took you out on a proper date and then you went on five more after that before he asked you to be his girlfriend.

Three years to the day.

“M’so glad that I caught your eye through the glass that day,” he reached across the table and gave your hand a squeeze, “don’t want to know what m’life would be without you in it.”

Your head tilted to the side when he suddenly retracted his hand from yours and stood up from his seat, you had no idea what was happening at first as confusion washed over you.

“Bubs, are you going inside to the bathroom?” You quizzed him, but your question went unanswered, he chose to ignore you as he made his way to stand next to you.

“What’s going on?” Your head was starting to give you the worst ideas.

And that's when you saw it.

You watched him get down on one knee, and your breath instantly hitched in your throat.

Surely your eyes were deceiving you. This wasn’t actually happening.

“(Y/N),”he spoke your name so softly as he stared at you, his voice full of love and affection.

“Having known you for exactly three years,I have come to know so much about you that I adore, so much so that I’ve come up with a top ten,”

He continued on. “Number one, I love how you always make me laugh when I am in need of a good cheering up,

Number two, I love you because you inspire me to be a better person, not just for you but a better person for our future family,

Number three, I love you because your so god damn patient with me it’s unbelievable, when I’m acting stupid and have a little tantrum, your nothing but patient and for that I’m grateful,”

The tears developed in your eyes quickly the second the words started leaving his lips, your mind still not registering what was actually happening.

And the fact that it was intimate. Just the two of you made the whole scenario just that much better.

“Number four, I love you because your an amazing daughter to your parents, always putting them first, above everything else,

Number five, I love you because you're not afraid to be yourself, you don’t change for anyone and for that I’ll always be happy. Happy knowing that your happy and your being your true self,”

God you loved this man with your entire being.

“Number six, I love you because your not afraid to dream and your not afraid to reach for them, if you set your mind to something, I know for a fact that your going to try your hardest to achieve it,

Number seven, I love you because your don’t care what other people think of you in a world that’s so hard, so many opinions float around and you’ve never once faltered from being my number one girl, my entire heart,

Number eight, I love you because through everything, you’ve continued to stick by my side and without you I simply believe that I would be nothing, you're the reason for existence.”

That wasn’t true in the slightest. He would still be the amazing man that he is today even if you weren’t part of his life.

The fact that you were there for the ride made it just that much better.

“Number nine, I love you because every morning the first thing I see when I wake up is the light that I call your eyes, that light always confirms how deeply in love with you I am as the days slowly pass by.”

And the next sentence that fell from his lips had both tears falling down your cheeks as well as his cheeks.

“And number ten,” he swallowed the lump that was beginning to form in his throat. “I love you so much, far too much to explain otherwise we would be here all night…I love you because I want to spend the rest of my life with you, with you by my side…so (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N)…will you do me the honour of marrying me?”

That was when you froze.

Marriage.

The legally or formally recognized union of two people as partners in a personal relationship.

You and Harry had spoken about marriage before, and now as he was currently asking for you to take his hand, your insides were doing butterflies. Making you feel like jelly.

“Yes.”

Was all you managed to say in your shock encased body, you don’t think you could even muster up a sentence.

Harry didn’t waste a second in slipping the ring from the box and onto your finger, sliding it on to the designated finger and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

The two of you stood up, face to face with each other as you stared at each other with nothing but love.

“I love you amore mio,” he spoke through a small sob. “Thank you f’agreeing to spend the rest of y’life with me.”

More tears gathered in your eyes. “And I love you, H. So, so much.”

Three years in the making and you were soon going to be Mrs. Styles.

It had a nice ring to it.

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 26/03/2024

Chance's Return to Dreamland

Season 1 Featured on: GilvaSunner's Highest Quality Video Game Rips: Volume 3 & Knigra Also on: Kirby Rip Attack

Ripped by digboye

Requested by fezaki! (Request Form)

You wouldn't BELIEVE how happy I was to see this rip get requested man!! Chance's Return to Dreamland isn't part of the surprisingly many Season 1 rips to have exploded in popularity - think My Dr. Eggman Can't Be This Evil!, Dr. Soulja, Pikmin Park, you get the picture - but its a rip I've had sitting proudly in my playlists for years and a verified banger. And to see that I'm not the only one who knows it exists!!! That warmed my heart for some reason. Fuck yeah.

There's a lot of parallels you can draw between this rip and Door into a Hundred Summers, another one of my Season 1 favorites. Of course there's the obvious one - both are rap mashups utilizing rap music that isn't really commonly featured on the channel, with Chance's Return to Dreamland to date still being the only rip on the channel to use Chance the Rapper's Angels. But beyond that, they have a really similar, enchanting way of grabbing your attention - you click on the rip waiting for the mashup to start, only for the music to dramatically cut away before the song used in the mashup "introduces" it back, at a lower pitch. I'm certain this way of starting a mashup has been used in more than these two rips, yet its a huge part of what's kept them stuck in my mind for so long - it reminds me of Be Cool, Be Wild, and Be My Girl in how, even as early as Season 1 they were finding ways to subvert what you were expecting a SiIvaGunner rip to be by cutting the playback so abruptly rather than having the mashup or melody swap simply start playing more subtly.

But the real reason I associate the two rips with one another so closely, and perhaps the real reason they both employ the aforementioned technique of pausing the track used, is what they do with said track in the mashup - pitching it down to create a quite different experience. This is more exaggerated in Door into a Hundred Summers of course, which takes a tune otherwise radiating the energy of a crisp spring morning and gives it a far more reflective, slow, nostalgic feel. What's done in Chance's Return to Dreamland feels almost like the complete inverse - the tune of Kirby's Return to Dreamland's title screen theme is infectiously jolly, and the slight pitch-down is primarily just done to allow it to play harmoniously alongside Angels, a song already infectiously feel-good in its own right. The two thus compliment each other beautifully, sort of similarly to something like World Out There, where the two sources used in isolation already feel harmonious in emotional intent, yet elevate each other to new heights in the mashup.

It's just a damn good rip, yknow? Chance the Rapper is (perhaps unsurprisingly) not an artist I've listened to much at all, yet his and featured artist Saba's vocals in Angels are just filled with such sincerely feel-good whimsy, such sheer joy and happiness in being alive, a feel that Kirby has ALWAYS been top-tier at pushing - the experience of listening to Chance's Return to Dreamland feels like like frolicking in endlessly warm, sunny grassy fields with those you cherish. A pill of pure happiness of shocking quality and attention to detail for a rip made so early on in Season 1's life. And knowing that digboye is still around today, 8 years later, helping bring rips like the immaculate One-Winged DJ to life, just puts a big dumb smile on my face.

[popculturebuffet]

The Snowman (1982) Review (Patreon Review for Emma Fici)

It's one sleep till christmas everybody! And for this Christmas Eve since Emma asked me

We're talking the 1982 television special, The Snowman. It won a BAFTA and was nominated for an oscar and is based on a book by the same name, tweaked slightly to both fill out 22 minutes. It's a british holiday instiution that's played every year on Channel 4 and is loved dearly.. and I don't think i've ever seen it

Yeah I have vauge memories of it so I MIGHT have but unlike say Yogi's Christmas Carol it wasn't something Cartoon Network played that often if they did, nor the other various networks I had as a kid, so I went into this pretty much blind, only knowing the ending.

That said.. it's VERY easy to see why this one is a christmas instiution. The Snowman is a simple but enchanting story about a child who goes out, has some fun, builds a snowman and there must have been some magic in that old hat he found because the snowman comes to life that evening. It's basically just 20 mintues of a boy and his new snow pal having adventures: taking a long ride on a motorbike, messing up the kitchen like a yeti, trying on his parents clothes, and then flying off into the distance with dozens of other snowmen to meet santa. You know typical kid stuff.

I don't have a ton of jokes for this one as honestly.. it wasn't one I could really riff on. There was a thing or two I could joke about sure.. but the special is just so dreamlike, so innocent, full of childlike wonder I can't find it in my heart to really make jokes at it's expense. It's 18 minutes of sweet dreams fuel. It feels like a child's dream, just simply getting into normal kid things, meeting santa, flying around… stuff any kid or grown person who used to be one can undrestand. It's more of a feeling than a film. It's simple.. but the simple joy of a boy and his golem he somehow brought to life is infectious.

The art helps: it's drawn like a storybook, likely like THE storybook it's based on, and is simply silent, letting the wondrefully sketchy and beautifully colored in animation do the heavy lifting. The soundtrack also helps, being nice and inviting while ambient and wintery when needed. There is a VERY creepy children's song that plays throughout, but it's one of the few things that really took me out of the film and after a while I just got used to it, as if the kid himself is singing it in his head. IT's just hard not to love the childlike wonder and whimsy of this film. Truly fun stuff. It just feels like a warm memory you had once deep in the back of your mind, a childhood adventure you'll treasure forever.

The only really down part. .is the tragic yet well done ending: the boy wakes up for more adventures.. only to find his friend melted. it's shockingly bleak, with the boy just slumping over, holding the scarf santa gave him last night as his friend lays dead. It's truly sad, a sign of how things just don't last in childhood.. but i'ts good you had them, bittersweet as it is

Finally the film turned out to have two openings: one in the uk with author raymond briggs where he just.. solemly walks in the snow and talks about a snowman and the US one. Now the Briggs intro was fine but since US Specails like this needed sponsors, they needed a bigger name. And that name folks.. was David Fucking Bowie.

I'm as shocked and delighted as you are. His intro is honestly slightly better as he just has a childrne's show type warmth to him. Granted i'm a huge bowie fan, so i'm biased, but it's also david bowie. He just has a nice gentle delivery. He's also wearing a sweater which just looks.. magic on him. Everything looks magic on him but still. This story is somehow even better if you imagine it's a young david bowie who just.. hung out with a snowman once. Because that honestly sounds like a normal day in his life. Just met a living snowman, went to space, fought the giant monkey man and saved the 9th dimension. Normal david bowie things. He'd go on to make a song for another Raymond Briggs film when the wind blows.. about nuclear war. Maybe i'll look at that osmetime.

So the Snowman is a simple, but heartwarming little special I recommend this christmas season or even just in winter> Christmas dosen't factor into it heavily.. but it just has the magic you expect of the season. It also has David Bowie in some versions so if you can't trust me, trust David Bowie to give you an excellent christmas present and watch the Snowman. It's free on PlutoTV right now if your curious. Thanks for reading and have a happy holiday.

[ofherlionheart]

hi :3

I was wondering do you think a Rapunzel au would work with either zukka or mailee??

oh wait!! enchanted mailee au and a tangled zukka au, thoughts?

I can kinda see it but I'm not particularly good at characterization

oh my god i love this question because yes!! the answer to "would X au work for Y couple?" is almost always yes!!

i think the joy of an AU/crossover like this is that you get to decide what to pull from each source. no one's gonna tell you you have to include this part from one source and this part from the other source in order for it to be a "proper" au. no!! fuck that shit!! cherry-pick the shit you wanna steal and have fun with it!

e.g. the hsm2 au i did—if i was trying to be some crossover purist, the dramatic staff talent show showdown should have been the climax and also about katara and yue reuniting after yue dumped katara by the pool yada yada yada, BUT that didn't make sense for what i wanted of the story. i didn't want katara and yue breaking up, and i was more interested in s and z's arc, so i made the talent show more of a blip on sokka's radar and spent more time after the show, in the treehouse, in the dugout, at the diner.

so yes to any of the above—enchanted mailee, enchanted zukka, tangled zukka, tangled mailee, whatever you want to play with can work! remember: at the end of the day, you're the writer, and you should be writing for you. what will make the story fun for you?

(and, if my thoughts are of any interest to you, since you've got me going, now …)

the Q i kind of asked myself when writing the hsm2 au was what's at the core of hsm2's narrative? the answer: chlorine. lmao jk but also, like, what it means to be a teenager in the summer having your first summer job but also getting to know a new side of a classmate who in the first installment of the trilogy was shown as little more than a henchman to his piece-of-work sister.

so what's at the core of the stories you mentioned? ngl i know too many variations on rapunzel to try to condense that, so imma ignore that one. but for the others, pick any lil nugget:

tangled: a person forced to live in seclusion "for their own safety" is broken out by someone else. a person with unique powers is manipulated by a parent (who isn't actually their parent). a brash and roguish bandit acts the way they do b/c they're actually a very sensitive and vulnerable person. a person learns to see their entire life from a brand new, illuminated perspective. love isn't when someone covets a particular trait you have, but when they admire you for your being. can love that's stifling and possessive still be called love? does true love always mean freedom? can love overcome hostile architecture?

enchanted: widowed single parent has been corporate for too long and needs the whimsy of another world to see brightness again. absolute himbo with a square jaw promises you more adventure in his world than your 9-5 desk job does in this world. sometimes the dramatic makeover reveal IS worse (coughcough purple dress amy adams coughcough). there's strength in persevering in seeing the good and bright in all things. sometimes a woman only has 2 braincells and that can be the sexiest thing in the world. if the freeloader that your daughter dragged into your life suddenly eats a raw fish, don't question it.

from there, i think about character's canon arcs, and what could possibly map onto these themes. zuko's arc matches up well with the whole rapunzel seeing her world anew thing. ty lee's character matches well with the incredible strength from brightness and optimism thing.

and then, sometimes, i like to challenge myself a step further and invert the obvious. like, if zuko's the obvious rapunzel, what would it look like if sokka was rapunzel? how did he get there? was sokka blessed by the moon and, idk, general zhao caught whiff of his powers and stole sokka way from hakoda and kya? if zuko is eugene, which version of zuko is he — angry ponytail believes in ozai zuko, blue spirit teenage and state rebellion zuko, or enlightened s3 zuko who's technically fire lord but iroh's letting him have an actual young adulthood?

isn't is fucking magical, all the diff directions in which an AU can spin out?

[timeforelfnonsense]

Between Heaven & Hell

Astarion x Dafni

Rating: M (no spice but its mentioned) 

Ao3

Inaleth Sweet is a D&D oc belonging to one of my dear friends @ladyofthelatke from one of our old games. We were talking about Dafni liking romance novels and realized she'd be a fan of Inaleth. A fun little easter egg! The name of Dafni's book was also brainstormed by our D&D party! I don't know that I love the ending but meh!

Sunshine & Starlight: My on going bg3 series 

Downtime for Dafni had become rare and fleeting in the past few days. Not that she mined being busy! She’d never been much good at sitting still. Her mind moved from thought to thought as quick as a hummingbird’s wing. A life of adventure rather agreed with her breezy disposition, that was a silver lining among the mess at least. But she found herself road-weary and overextended. Perhaps it was the tadpole or the fact she’d been in more battles in two days than she had in the last year. She couldn’t be sure. Either way, a little idle time would be good for her.

She was lounging on her belly in a grassy patch on the river bank, idly flipping through the dog-eared pages of a novel bound in soft pink leather, Between Heaven and Hell scrawled across the cover in faded gold lettering. It was a rather risqué account of an amours elf torn between the affection of her aasimar and a tiefling suiters. The first in a series penned by one Inaleth Sweet of Waterdeep -  A fellow eladrin and personal favorite author of Dafni’s. She’d read it dozens of times but it never failed to enchant and intrigue her. 

She’d always enjoyed reading. It was the only time she could bring herself to be (mostly) still. She could lose herself in the colorful whimsy of her imagination. She’d always been a romantic. Her headful of silly daydreams of love and adventure from a tender age. She had spent days on end in her village imagining what the world might be like beyond the shelter of Peleira and the familiar forests and shores of Faerie-Gwynneth. Books provided her wanderlust an outlet in the years before she crossed into the Material.

A pale hand snatched the book from her hands pulling her back to reality. Astarion glanced down at her with a mischievous grin, raising a singular angled brow. She clumsily fumbled to her knees attempting to reclaim it from him but Astarion simply raised the novel out of her reach. 

He looked almost ethereal, shrouded in the soft, peachy glow of sunset as he flipped through his stolen prize. His loose undershirt was unbuttoned almost to his navel showing off his lanky feline-esque physique. It was completely unfair for him to be that gorgeous! Somehow he managed to mix boyish charm with noble dignity. She imagined Astarion was very much the kind of man humans pictured when they talked about the peerless beauty and grace of the elves. 

“My, my, Daffodil, I never pegged you as a consumer of salacious novels. Aren’t you just full of surprises?” He said through a chuckle as he began to thumb through the pages, “You fold the corners of your books? And I thought I was despicable!” 

He might have been from the Material Plane but he had that spark of mirth common to those hailing from her homeland. It was a welcome change of pace. She’d found he could be quite charming (when he wasn’t being surly or aloof). He’d taken to treating her with teasing endearment as of late.  He would refer to her by little diminutives such as darling or dear. That was when he wasn’t calling her by that twee pet name, Daffodil. She knew that the majority of his doting was little more than suave twaddle but she couldn’t help but be won over by him.

 There were things about himself he’d clearly chosen not to disclose. She was never one for secrets but she could hardly begrudge others for having them. Astarion’s omissions were likely connected to whatever had made him so prickly in the first place. She was curious of course but she wasn’t going to press him for anything he was unwilling to give.  Dafni understood relationships much the same way she did gardens. Both required patience and dedication in order for something beautiful to flourish. She earnestly hoped a genuine friendship could blossom between them but that meant allowing him to open up to her in his own time no matter how badly she wanted to bombard him with a-million-and-one questions. 

 “What have I done to deserve this roguery?” 

“Roguery?” Astarion snickered.

“Roguery.” She repeated. “Now find your own way to pass the time and give me mine back!”

Her brows stitched, her lower lip forming that perfect little pout of hers. She was trying very hard to appear cross but her eyes gave her away. They were sparkling with impish delight as she made another valiant effort at retrieving the silly thing. Despite her tilt towards clemency, Dafni was a bit of a puck. 

“This is my way of passing the time. I can only wander among the trees so many times before the novelty wears off. Besides, making you blush is far more entertaining.” 

Dafni snorted a blite smile forming at the corners of her plump lips, “You are incorrigible, you know that right?”

“So I’ve been told.” 

“Well, I suppose if you are that bord I could read to you?” She yanked the book from his hands, clutching it to her chest smug and victorious. Reaching out with her free hand to tap a finger on the tip of his nose. “But, I’m skipping all the dirty bits!” 

“Spoilsport.” 

“It’s that or walking around the woods for the hundredth time.” 

“You do raise an excellent point.” He sighed carefully arranging himself on the grass beside her, “Very well, I’ll agree to your stipulations.” 

“Just be glad I’m not going to make you read for one of the characters! And because I’m just so sweet I’ll even start from the beginning for you.” 

He listened intently as Dafni delivered the tale as if she were performing a one-woman play. Her face was adorably expressive as she changed her voice with each new character. Messy curls bouncing with every animated gesture. Occasionally she’d trail off feigning horror at the ‘dirty bits’ as she called them.

 What would lewd words have sounded like in her lilt voice? Part of him wanted to find out right then. That wasn’t the first time such musings had crossed his mind. Dafni had made a few appearances in his private thoughts since their meeting. She had a coy, maidenly allure that conjured up all kinds of tempting images. These were nothing more than flights of fancy but fun nonetheless. Just another benefit of keeping her around.

He found himself lingering around her almost on instinct. The joy that followed her was tangible and warm as the sun on his skin. When she was near his mind felt quieted and the fear that gnawed at him would soften just a tad. He had grown to genuinely enjoy her company. He’d expected her to be dull and overly pious. Instead, he found she was rather amusing, coquettish even. She was witty and observant, always having a playful quip at the ready. The sort of whimsical woman whose effortless charm drew people in. She would have made an excellent vampire if not for her ridiculous soft heart.

Her compulsive need to care for every living thing  with a sob story was somewhat vexing but he could hold his nose and deal with it most days. He’d make a comment here and there but really that was for her own good. She was painfully naïve, always seeing the best in people. It was clear to him Dafni’s life had been gentle. Free of hardships that might have taught her to approach others with such little skepticism. 

A part of him was grateful for her lack of suspension.  He knew gaining the trust of at least one of the members of the party would be crucial if he intended to enjoy the benefits of traveling with a group long term. Her friendship and propensity for peace making provided him with no small measure of safety. Still, that safety was at risk if she continued to offer herself up on a silver platter to every soul with even the smallest tale of woe she came across.

He glanced over at her, a found (begrudging, but found nonetheless), smile on his lips. The last rays of the setting sun casting its light on her lovely cherubic profile. While his motivations for befriending her had been far from altruistic having her near made his life provable better. When they’d first met he’d assumed her kindness would come at a price but she had surprised him, wanting nothing but his company in exchange. Without thinking he reached out cupping her cheek in his hand. The freckles, sage skin was unbearably soft  and warm against his cool palm. Her heartbeat quickened bringing his attention to the tantalizing, wildflower sent of her blood.  She leaned in close her eyes fluttering closed- 

“We should head back to the others, it’s getting dark.” Astarion muttered, pulling back from her.

“I- Ha, of course. It’s late…” Her lower lip was caught in her teeth, her eyes darting ever so quickly from his mouth back to his eyes. 

As tempting as she might be he was already in too deep with her. If he kissed her, he’d only want more. Any change to the current dynamic could disrupt the fragile safety he’d acquired. He couldn’t put himself at risk for the temporary happiness she might have brought. Perhaps when things were more settled. When he knew he could afford the risk, he would know the taste of her lips. For now though, he would have to resist. 

[spirit-of-the-void]

Gunpowder and Flower Petals (Dante x Reader Fanfic) Chapter One

Author’s note: Sorry this came out so late--my laptop has been having issues, kids. Thanks to my discord for helping me name this fic

Chapter One

~Sunlight and Rose Petals~

Ever since you were a little girl, nature had its way of...speaking to you.

Nothing else really quite compared to it. Not to the way dandelions would hum with vitality and life, how roses tended to sigh and shudder under your fingertips. Morning glories always whispered their hellos from your balcony during every sunrise, and moon flowers giggled once it began to set. It filled your life with such unbelievable joy, one that was not lost on your mother once she noticed petals drifting occasionally from your hair, or how seeds would automatically sprout in your hand. As a botanical witch herself, seeing how nature embraced a child like you made her heart soar with delight and promise. She started your teachings at an early age, opening your eyes to the wonders and prospects of magic. 

As for your father...he was never in the picture. After witnessing your mother cast magic for a single time, he left without so much as a word. She reasoned that this was for the best, and determined herself more than capable to take care of you once the time came. After all, him leaving was better than someone fearing magic being in your lives. Delusion and innocence had clouded the young witch’s eyes, convincing you mother that maybe she could tell your father when the time came. It was pointless after that day. She would not change herself to meet his bigotry, and you were deserving of a life filled with the wonders of spell casting.

Despite him not being there, your childhood had been so bright. Living in a small town, helping your mother grown herbs in window boxes and vegetables in the garden. Fields of poppies would bloom as you ran through, seedlings had an inexplicable chance of blossoming in your hair. Whimsical, enchanting. You carried the scent of flowers in your wake, even to this day. It was in those times that you learned the cycle of respect between nature and a witch, the process of which to enrich a flower or plant with life and gain their respect in return. Those same flora provided back in kind, more than eager to continue their cycle as a spell or nutrition for those who were kind to them. The sun would rise and fall, and your mother would whisper her thanks and gratitude to every plant she used in each task she needed. You had always been in awe of her, how the flowers were more than happy to give up their petals to her potions and powders.

With each passing day, your magic and knowledge grew until you were ten years old, when...well. Tragedy stuck, and as always, it struck in ways you would never expect.

Demons attacked your little town in the woods, razing everything they touched to ash. You would never forget waking to the screaming of your neighbors, of the silent shrieking of plants as they were scorched into nothingness. There had been smoke, a scent so foul it made your little eyes water and throat sting like nothing else before. Glowing embers made patterns in the dark air, drifting like the pollen that had grown so precious and wonderful in you life.

You remember lurching from your bed, crying hoarsely for your mother even as the vines on your balcony frantically dragged you out of the house before they had a chance to burn. They deposited you safely on the ground outside, just as a small group of your neighbors rushed over to pull you away. Mrs.Davenport, the closest to your mother, had held you in a protective embrace, her heart pounding frantically as they piled into a vehicle and sped away from the rising flames. 

Your mother would have never been able to make it out of the house. Not with magic, not with plants. She was in the basement working on a project when the first flames had shot through the windows, and was trapped on all sides. At least...that was according to Mrs.Davenport’s husband, who went back to check for any sign of her once everything was said and done. After that day, after the funeral for all who were lost...you sat alone in a little room above the Davenport’s shop in the city, a single handful of seedlings in your pocket and an ache in your heart that would never fade.

But the Davenports were kind, and took you in with open arms. Despite losing their home and store in town, the one they held on the edge of the city made enough to keep them going. The apartment above was renovated into a new living space, and you spent your time learning how to help out in any way you could. In the shop, at home, and with the only skills you had left to give. During this time the rosebuds in your hair were closed and dull, echoing your grief and uncertainty loud and clear to the outside world. But in time...they would bloom again.

Things were not always without turmoil. Being a witch’s child growing up in a place beyond the safety of that town proved difficult. The small, private classes from some of the mothers who lived nearby with children of their own were far more understanding and accepting of magic. After all, a lot of their medicines and tonics came from your home. The same could not be said when you were enrolled in public school, hair full of rose petals and an naive air of whimsy following your every step. Children were not ignorant of outsiders, sensing something about you was off from day one. 

Young ones could be so cruel sometimes.

Teachers too. School was a hard time, rife with bullying and ridicule from all sides. The first time you performed magic in class, the teacher was heavily alarmed and immediately drew you out of the class for scolding. It had seemed so innocent at the time--making flowers sprout up from a handful of seedlings to give some classmates gifts. The Davenports were called, and you were almost expelled from the grade school  there and then. After pleading, begging, promises that no more magic would be performed...you were allowed to stay. But the damage had been done, on all sides. The teacher never looked at you the same way after that, and neither did the children.

An important lesson was learned that day. Magic was not the wonderful, beautiful thing you had always been taught. For some it was something ugly, a thing to fear and ridicule. Growing up in that environment left lasting damage on your confidence, damage that took years to truly shake. The flowers didn’t bloom in your hair that often then, magic harder to cast and you finding yourself trying desperately to fit in. But...is this what your mother truly wanted? For you to bow your head and smoother all the beautiful things she had given you, the teachings she held so dear?

You spent a lot of time thinking about her words, shaking off the cloud that had plagued you for so many years of school. Balance could be found, control must be had. If people could not understand the beauty and wonders of magic without fear, the only way to change anything was to teach them. Even if it had to be secret, even if you had to hide it until out of school.

You had so much kindness to give, after all. 

After graduating high school, the Davenports encouraged you to sell the flowers that you cultivated in window boxes, in pots all over your room. They insisted that you keep every bit you made, and soon a reputation with the customers began to thrive. Your flowers took much longer to wilt that normal ones, and bloomed bigger and brighter. The roses smelled stronger, the peonies sweeter. Valentine’s day became a busy time for the shop, filled with eager men looking for bouquets for their lovers and family searching for flowers to gift to their children, parents, grandparents...You developed an adoration for every person you met, heart full and welcoming for each new face and smile.

And the flowers sold each time, absorbing the eagerness of their new owners and coming with a small note on how to properly care for them.

Each person who bought a flower left with the knowledge of how to respect them, just as your mother taught you. The plants understood their purpose, silent but filling you with their energies of delight and pride. Because at the end of the day, all nature wanted was a purpose and kindness in turn.

You found your calling there, Mister Davenport helping create a greenhouse in the backyard for your needs. They grew old in time, and both decided that when they retired, the shop would be converted over fully into a Botanical business instead. Tears were shed that day, ones of gratitude and sorrow as you remembered what was lost, what had been gained. How lucky you had been, to have such lovely human beings there to support you, from the moment you took your first breath to when you thought fire and demons would take it all away. Neither of your mother’s friends had to help you, but did it anyway. And for that, you owed them everything and more. 

Especially on days like these, when everything was perfect.

A smile was always on your face as you flitted around the shop, saying your “good morning”s to the flowers and making sure each had water and their needed nutrients. The wide, open shop windows allowed sunlight to dapple each petal, unfurling the morning glories with droplets of water dripping from them like dew. The bouquets were arranged for orders taken, hanging pots casting shadows and their vines occasionally brushing the top of your head. Mornings were always so spellbinding--everything felt alive, humming with their silent energies and filling you to the brim with positivity. Even the seedlings that bloomed in your hair radiated an air of being pleased, one curling around your left ear like it intended to whisper to you.

The shop bells jingled with each new customer, you smiling at familiar faces and new ones in kind with a cheerful, “Good morning! How can I assist you today?”

It was springtime, right around when people were getting married and having babies. Lots of requests for pink bouquets, blues, whites. Orchids and roses, lilies and tulips. When the shop grew quiet you would sneak to the greenhouse to put spells on the gardens, adding new seeds for flowers you were running short on. A little magic, a little care...they never took long to grow, everything would be ready for the following morning.

This was your life, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Around noon you set about weaving dandelions and mini carnations into flower crowns, smiling when you saw the usual bees hanging around your window boxes. There was water out there for them and passing birds, plus you made sure to plant things they would like. There was something very cute about seeing their little pollen-covered butts wiggle around in the flowerbed. Regular customers had long grown used to them, respecting the art they played in keeping flowers alive.

Maybe you should start beekeeping? Was there room for bee boxes in the yard? Being this far out on the edge of the city, there weren’t really any businesses that would be bothered by it.

You were drifting in and out of your musing when a familiar face came through the door, the resulting bell making your eyes lift from their task.

“Morning, Y/N!” Greeted Alex, grinning from ear to ear as he slid by the counter on the way to where the lilies were displayed. He owned a little bakery a few streets over--you thoroughly enjoyed stopping by the corner deli first, then grabbing sweets from them on the way back , “See you’re working hard as always. What’s on your agenda for today?”

You chuckled, lifting up one of your finished crowns to display it proudly to his curious eyes, “Crowns. They’re getting popular on social media,” You set the item down, shaking a few loose petals from your silken locks as you added playfully, “Picking up lilies for your darling again? Like clockwork, every week. I don’t know where you’re putting them.”

He chuckled at that, seeming grateful when you came around the counter to help him wrap a small bouquet. The flowers’ energy reached out for you, the magic toiling through your veins responding in kind.

“We plant them in our garden to be honest,” He admitted, scratching the back of his head sheepishly at your delighted look, “I don’t get it, didn’t think they would just bloom if we planted them like that, but...your flowers are really somethin’ special.”

They most certainly were. Infused with magic, filled to the brim with possibilities they wouldn’t otherwise have. But he didn’t need to know that, not yet at least--there was no telling how he would react otherwise. You wondered belatedly what kind of honey would yield from magic flowers, especially with the kind of magic you used. Healing properties, maybe? It was just another thing to add to the list.

Regardless, you grinned, wrapping the stems gently in plastic before exchanging them for his money, “They do that because you treat them with kindness--honestly it makes me really happy to imagine your yard filled to the brim with all the lilies you’ve bought the past few months.”

Alex laughed lightly, little winkles appearing around his eyes when he smiled so brightly, “Bella loves it to pieces, so I can’t really say no,” His eyes drifted to the door when a few more customers entered, the familiar man waving with his free hand as he added, “See you next week, Y/N! Swing by the bakery sometime, we’ve got some seasonal fruits coming in so I’ll make sure we whip up something special!” 

You waved goodbye, smiling cheerfully as you went to greet the next couple of customers. You would definitely have to stop by the bakery again soon, it had been too long since the last order of creme puffs you had.

Regardless, you focused on the next people in need of assistance--Familiar faces as well, regulars who bought bouquets to put on tables in catering events. They had an order to be picked up, one scheduled long in advance and sitting in the greenhouse waiting for them. The crowns could wait for something so important, surely. And after these orders were taken there was only two more meant to be taken that day. Plenty of time to tend to the new flowers, to take care of whatever customers come in then close down around six or seven o’clock. 

So distracted with helping these customers get their order, you didn’t notice a new face walk in. 

It wasn’t until you started hurrying back to the front of the store with boxes of pre-made vases in tow did you realize someone had entered,  figure wandering on the edge of the shop and idly gazing at the masses of roses. You spared a brief glance from over the budding flowers obscuring your vision, hurrying to set the box in the back of the customer’s van outside. That wasn’t one of your regulars, was it? White hair, broad shoulders, tall...wearing a red leather jacket and dark jeans. Definitely not the usual type to peruse a flower shop in the middle of the afternoon. Not that you cast any judgement--anyone could love nature, so maybe this person was simply finding a new passion for roses? Regardless, you hurried on, feeling a bit bad that you didn’t hear the bell over the door jingle at all.

“I’ll be right with you!” The familiar words carried easily over the shop as you rushed past, voice friendly and sweet. The stranger half turned in your direction, but you didn’t get to see their face past the white hair draping over one side. 

He simply lifted one hand in a light acknowledgement of you, voice deep and slightly bemused as he replied, “Take your time.”

If there was one thing you didn’t like doing, it was keeping customers waiting. The box of flowers was deposited in the van quickly enough, papers signed and thanks given for their purchase. The beautiful displays of lilac and lilies will make for lovely centerpieces for whatever gathering they’d be hosting, that was for certain--plus they would stay vibrant and lively, blessed with good fortune and radiating a heavenly scent. Your magic made sure of that, and when the blossoms eventually wilted it would disperse the magic safely into the air and bring good energy to whatever space they were kept in.

You made sure the buyers were all set up and pulling away before rushing back into the shop, a bit anxious about making a good first impression on this new customer. Luckily, he was still there by the rose display. Back turned, shoulders occasionally rolling as he browsed the selection. Goodness, he was certainly tall...and big. Well, compared to you at least. Height wasn’t something you were blessed to have a lot of, but it never really bothered you. It was just slightly intimidating to be facing someone like this stranger, one who dwarfed you so obviously in size and stature. He...carried a strange energy too, one that made you pause and frown at his back.

What is that feeling? Surely you felt it before, but...it was very muted, like diluted by water. His scent felt human again, almost like whatever you sensed had passed.

You shook the feeling off, approaching him finally and managing a soft smile as you greeted, “I’m so sorry about the wait, is there anything I can help you find?”

The stranger paused, turning finally to look at your form standing patiently behind his own. He was...oh. You blinked, feeling a bit flustered upon seeing this man’s face. Handsome, with strong features and a wry smile on his lips. He was a bit unshaven, facial hair white where it lined his strong jaw and chin. If you didn’t have a type before, you surely had one now upon meeting the stranger who had been so interested in roses--it suited him, you decided that already. He seemed like a roses type of guy, it mingled well with the rugged energy surrounding his body and limbs. The smile he greeted you with seemed to pause when he saw your face, lips popping open and a mix of emotions flitting across his features.

What was going on with that? He seemed surprised for a second, taken aback, then a bit nervous and fidgety as his smile became a bit more...rueful? 

He was hard to read, and you were already nervous.

“Er...It’s no problem, miss,” He replied in that warm voice, scratching the back of his head a bit and half turning his face away, “Just...ah. Someone mentioned to me that your shop was the best place to get roses.”

You blinked, staring at the man without realizing it. Embarrassment colored your cheeks a bit pink, your mind desperately trying to shake whatever daze had come over you and find a response to his statement.

“They...sent you to the right place,” You finally managed, lips curling softly as you brushed past him for the display of flowers. A handful of petals fell from your hair as you did so, landing on his black boots in a sharp contrast of color. I need to calm down, you told yourself meekly, heart stuttering in your chest,  the magic is causing anomalies with my hair again, “Is there a particular color you’re looking for or may need?”

The stranger seemed fascinated by the little pink petals that dotted his boots, a bemused smirk growing on his lips again as he plucked one out of the air before it fell. Something about the action made you swallow, face starting to resemble that shade the flowers were.

“Red,” He replied to your question, quirking a grey brow as he rubbed the thin flower petal between his fingers, “I’m a simple man with simple needs, what can I say?”

You nodded a couple times, eyes peeling off of him long enough to slide over to the lovely red roses sitting in a patch of sunlight near the window. Water still glistened from when you watered them earlier, making the petals glimmer like diamonds. They were a fresh batch too, radiating a sultry energy and filled to the brim with your magic care and adoration. They were a plant based around romance, so your mood and eagerness was easily sensed considering how connected to you they were. The remaining few that hadn’t bloomed fully yet finally did so, curling out in front of the stranger’s eyes as he prepared to pluck some from their container. Oh dear, he definitely saw that, didn’t he? 

Your gaze flickered to the man in question, anxiety making a home in your features as you gauge his reaction. But he didn’t seem bothered, merely fascinated and bemused as he took in their sudden growth.

“How many would you like?” Your voice asked softly, despite how absolutely nervous you felt. What was wrong with you? Many handsome or beautiful customers had come in before without issue, so why was this one managing to get you so flustered? It was inexplicable, and definitely outside the realm of normality. But...you found yourself not upset by it, excitement curling in your gut as you met his light gaze again with a hesitant one of your own.

Locking eyes sent a shiver down your spine, heart doing the most unbelievable things in your chest. 

“Uh…” He cleared his throat again, seeming to lose whatever train of thought was going through his head, “Oh...a dozen. Just twelve should be enough for now. If they’re as great as people told me, I’ll come back and get more, right?.”

Oddly enough...you desperately hoped that would be the case. A hint of a giddy smile formed on your lips, head ducking down to hide it as you retrieved some paper and plastic to wrap the flowers in, “Certainly, sir. Roses are really beautiful, loyal flowers so they will last for a while,” You set about carefully setting them up as you spoke, eyes locked on the water gently rolling from their petals as you asked, “If I may ask...what are you using them for? Are they a gift, perhaps?”

This was something you generally always liked to hear about from customers, he was no exception. But...asking him still felt strange somehow, like you were breaching a realm of privacy for information you hadn’t earned. Definitely not asking to discover if he had a wife or girlfriend, that was rude and inappropriate. Just thinking about it made you want to pull up your turtleneck and hide your face from his eyes, hide away from everything. As it stood, your finger slipped on the stem of a rose as the thoughts went awry, pricking your finger on a stray thorn that hadn’t been fixed earlier. A hiss escaped your lips, instinctively tugging your hand away to pop the injured digit into your mouth. 

The roses radiated apologetic energy, sensing what had happened and not liking it in kind.

“You okay?” The man asked, a frown marring his features as he stared at the bead of blood forming on your skin. Seemingly without thinking, he reached out to grasp your wrist with a gentle hand, pulling a bit closer for inspection. Just that action alone sent a tingle of energy along your arm, face going a bit red at the unexpected touch.

Oh dear. The flowers in your hair trembled, more petals falling from the silken locks.

He was not immune--the man blinking, seeming to realize a second later what he had done and dropping your limb like it had burned him. He raised both hands in a gesture of apology, taking a measured step back, a hint of embarrassment in his expression.

“Shit--sorry, I didn’t mean to just grab at ya like that,” He apologized immediately, dropping his arms and letting out a gusty sigh, “You just hurt yourself, and I didn’t really--”

“It’s okay…!” You blurted out suddenly, cutting off whatever he was going to say. It made him blink, staring at you with surprise as your gazed met once more. More petals, a vine curled under your ear slightly. Oh no, I’m getting too emotional, too nervous, too excited--your face was far too warm, especially when you tugged the turtleneck up a bit to hide the vines creeping around your neck. 

“U...um…” You murmured, feeling completely obvious under his steady blue eyes and hating yourself thoroughly. He couldn’t see the magic, couldn’t know about that. You had spent far too long being careful to make slip-ups like these. But...why was your mouth still moving?

“It’s okay. I...didn’t mind, not really,” You peeked up from the turtleneck, fidgeting at the surprised expression he still had on, “My name is Y/N, by the way...I usually tell customers that right away but I think I forgot to with you. Or did I? Oh dear...I’m sorry.”

I’m a mess, an absolute disaster. Why was it so hard to form coherent sentences around him? You had gone from being steadfast and confident one moment to a bumbling fool the next, which honestly was...typical. Emotions ran high on even your best days, which came with the territory of being a witch. Controlling them was by far the hardest thing to do, right at the top of the list of skills she hadn’t quite mastered. All it served to do was make her miss the mother she so adored--full of poise, calm in even the darkest moments and able to control her magic like breathing. Mrs. Davenport said that even when her father left, the woman never shed a single tear for his absence. 

Regardless, you shook off the wistful nostalgia, turning your gaze away from his when a low, crooked grin tilted his lips at your red face. He seemed to be enjoying it far too much. 

“You didn’t tell me your name yet, sunshine, so don’t worry too much on that end of things,” He chuckled, the sound washing over your ears in the most pleasant manner possible, “Though it was rude of me to manhandle a pretty girl without askin’, even if you don’t mind.”

Sunshine. Pretty girl. The words stuck to your skull like glue, making you downright dizzy as you tried to process it. This wasn’t the first time someone called you pretty, right? Several customers had come in and made such observances, both in a romantic subtext and not. All of the former variety were politely turned down, you just didn’t have the time or the shared attraction worth following through with.

But this person...something about him made your heart flutter, pounding against your ribs and bringing out every flustered, easily embarrassed part of you. And he clearly wasn’t oblivious to it--the man smirked when he caught the surprise in your expression at his cute nickname, fidgeting under his stare and resisting the urge to hide your face entirely. This is all too much.

“D...don’t worry about it,” You squeaked, the sound coming out a bit breathless even to your ears as you turned back toward the roses. Frantically trying to tuck a loose vine behind your ear, silently urging the flowers to calm down as you added, “Wh...what is your name, if I may ask?”

He let out a low hum at your question, eyes turning toward your task as you wrapped the roses in a final layer of plastic. Something about him hovering over your shoulder as you finished his order...well. It made you very flustered indeed.

“Dante,” The man, Dante, finally replied to your question, offering you a charming smile on top of it all. But that soon faded, especially when he cleared his throat and added hesitantly to his statement, “And to what you asked earlier, roses were...well. They were my mother’s favorite flower before she passed, so...I keep some with me at all times in honor of her.”

Oh. His response made your heart ache on his behalf, excitement draining into something a little more forlorn and sympathetic as your hands gentled a bit in their duty. His tone was so wistful, border-lining on a little sad as he mentioned the parent he had lost. In an instant you felt a kinship with this man you didn’t know, wanting to comfort him in any way you could. One hand rested on the package of roses, crinkling the material slightly as you closed your eyes.

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” Your voice was soft, gentle as you thought back to the loss of your own mother, that dark day in town with the flames rising in your home, “I lost my mother too...a long time ago. It can be a very hard thing to go through.”

He sucked in a slight breath at your words, pausing like he was surprised to even hear them. You turned your gaze to meet his again, seeing a hint of shock and sympathy now echoed in his eyes right back. A look of regret, of exhaustion and heartache that made your own chest hurt in a strange way. The mood in the air shifted in an instant, your magic sensing ever ounce of grief that seeped into his energy aura that told you everything that you needed to know about him. Trauma, sorrow, exhaustion, anger...he had been through something terrible, hadn’t he? It showed on his face, that smile shifting into something deeply sorrowful at the sound of your own pain.

Oh no...I made him sad.

“Damn...I’m sorry, Y/N,” He replied, sounding gruff and a bit apologetic as he scratched the back of his white hair, “I didn’t mean to bring the mood down. I have a habit of putting my foot in my mouth when I probably shouldn’t.”

“Oh no!” You protested immediately, turning to stare at him with the roses cradled gingerly in your arms, “Please, don’t apologize for anything Dante. I don’t mind at all,” A small smile tilted your lips, cheeks still a bit flushed from his earlier comments, “There’s no shame in opening up to someone about your past, never doubt that. I’m always happy to listen if you need it.”

Your words surprised him further, his gaze lingering on yours with an unidentified emotion lingering in its depths. Whatever it was...your stomach did somersaults at the sight, making you turn away and hurry toward the counter to give you a chance to breathe a bit. Oh dear. Oh my, this man was a whirlwind on your emotions, stirring up things that a stranger absolutely shouldn’t have the power to stir up. You tried not to focus on it, summoning forth another smile as the price for his roses was tallied up. A little shaved off for making him wait in the store for so long while the other order was processed of course. 

He strolled up to the corner after you, watching with curious eyes as you made sure to attach the needed items to take care of roses to the wrappings. A little note too, thanking him for his purchase.

As soon as he saw the total, one eyebrow quirked up in surprise, “That’s all?” He sounded doubtful of the low price, pulling out a leather wallet from his pocket and eyeing you suspiciously.

You nodded, graciously accepting the offered bill and depositing it in the cash register as you replied, “Yep. Consider it an apology for forcing you to wait outside so long earlier--its rude to do that to first time customers.”

He let out a little “huh” at that, cocking his head a bit to examine you as he gathered up the bouquet of fresh roses. Something about his scrutinizing gaze made you blush further, that color returning to your cheeks as his change was handed back. Your fingers brushed at the action, making you shiver again before pulling away and trying to find some semblance of sanity again. Calm down, it’s rude to act like this to strangers. You resisted the urge to bite your lip, trying to gather all the nervous attraction and bottle it down inside. As if that would somehow fix anything, which you knew damn well it wouldn’t.

Already you were hoping he would come back. Already hoping your roses were up to his standards. It felt a bit pathetic really, wanting to get to know someone this badly just from one interaction. Maybe you were just lonely? After the Davenports moved out to their retirement home, you lived above the shop alone and worked hard every day without fail. It was just all that neediness talking, that was it.

Wasn’t it?

“Thank you for coming by, Dante,” You said softly, playing with a strand of your hair and lifting your eyes to see his again, “I...I hope you like the roses. Don’t hesitate to stop by again, okay?” 

That made him smile, that crooked smirk causing your stomach to feel like it was spinning in circles. A low chuckle left his lips, eyes lingering on your hair for a moment as he reached out one hand. Your heart nearly stopped, breath pausing in your throat as he plucked a stray petal from your locks with his free hand. You blinked owlishly, cheeks warming more as he rubbed it between his digits and felt its soft texture.

“You’ll definitely be seeing me again, Sunshine,” He replied, an amused grin tilting his lips as he took in your flushed face, “Might invite you out to coffee next time too, if you’d allow it?”

Oh. OH.

You squeaked, hands grasping the edges of your turtleneck as you replied in a stammer, “O..oh! I’d...I’d like that, yes...absolutely…!” Far too eager, far too happy about his request in the first place.

But he didn’t seem to mind, giving you a two finger salute before he turned to head out the door again. You watched him as he went, heart pounding in your chest even until the bell jingled above the door to sound his departure. It wasn’t until he was completely out the door that all the emotion finally burst forth, a sense of embarrassed excitement causing you to hide your face in the turtleneck and squeak softly. It was a good thing there were no more customers in the store at that moment, because the flowers in your hair sprouted even more and dropped far too many petals in a little halo around you on the floor.

“Oh god…” You mumbled, holding your overly warm face in your hands as the remaining traces of nervous attraction refused to be shaken off.

“Did that...just really happen?”

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[searching-in-silence]

What's the deal with Jikook and NBC? I'm really, really curious, like there must be something meaningful abt the movie to them, if Jimin personally requested the limited edt snow globe for Jungkook as birthday present. Just like how Jimin gave the bear to V since his song named winter bear, it's something that very understandable.

Anon, thank you for asking me this question, I had been planning to do a post on this for a long time, but I think the opportunity is right for now. hehehe~

Anyway, so Why do jikook like Nightmare Before Christmas? What is it’s significance? And what is NBC anyway.

Going to be a long post, sit tight my friends~

What is NBC? (wiki)

The Nightmare Before Christmas (also known as Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas) is a 1993 American stop-motion animated musical dark fantasy Halloween-Christmas film directed by Henry Selick, and produced and conceived by Tim Burton. 

The Nightmare Before Christmas originated in a poem written by Burton in 1982 while he was working as an animator at Walt Disney Feature Animation. Burton began to consider developing The Nightmare Before Christmas as either a short film or 30-minute television special to no avail. Over the years, Burton's thoughts regularly returned to the project, and in 1990, he made a development deal with Walt Disney Studios. Production started in July 1991 in San Francisco; Disney released the film through Touchstone Pictures because the studio believed the film would be "too dark and scary for kids".

It was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Visual Effects, a first for an animated film. The film has since been reissued by Walt Disney Pictures, and was re-released annually in Disney Digital 3-D from 2006 until 2009, making it the first stop-motion animated feature to be entirely converted to 3D.

Plot of NBC.

It is the same routine every year in Halloween Town, on Halloween the monsters come out and perform a real scare. This particular Halloween, the pumpkin king Jack Skellington, bored of the idea, saunters off into the woods with his dog Zero after Halloween night. Upon the break of dawn, he discovers a clearing of trees with different doors representing various holidays. The Christmas Tree door attracts his attention and upon entrance into the world of Christmas, Jack is fascinated with this new idea of Christmas that he must absolutely share with the citizens of Halloween Town. But their view is different and they aren’t thrilled.

The story goes on and it seems like Jack and everyone else in town plans to sabotage Christmas except for Sally.The evil scientist in the story must whip up some reindeer, Halloween town's top trick-or-treaters are to kidnap Sandy Claws, and Sally's task is to make Jack a red Santa suit. She tries to tell him that co-opting Christmas is a terrible idea, but he's too wrapped up in his enthusiasm to listen.

Later when Jack’s plan fails and he realizes his mistake, Santa Claus scolds Jack about trying to take over a holiday that isn't his, and then sets about magically saving Christmas. Jack and Sally return to town just as Santa Claus flies over and offers the Halloween towns folk a bit of Christmas magic: their first snowfall. Jack and Sally share a tender moment in the cemetery, realizing they were always meant to be together. 

For what reasons could jikook relate to NBC??

(Reference taken from Oh My Disney, for NBC couple Jack and Sally)

The Nightmare Before Christmas enchants us with its whimsy and magic, but it also gives us really intense couple goals. Jack and Sally are the perfect couple, 7 reasons why:

  1. They’re opposites, so they balance each other out nicely -  Jack is impulsive and a dreamer, while Sally is far more sensible. Every relationship needs a little bit of both; that’s the only way things stay interesting, but never get out of hand.

2. They can both remove body parts while incurring zero harm to themselves - Jack can take his skull off to recite Shakespeare, and Sally can remove her limbs. Cool couples always have random, unlikely things in common.

3. They give each other cool presents -   And by “they,” we mostly mean Sally. Although who’s to say what sort of things Jack dreams up after The Nightmare Before Christmas ends? Sally gets Jack a ghost butterfly as a gift, which is way, wayyyy cooler than a standard tie or whatever.

4. They are both probably somewhat immortal -  We’re not sure exactly what the rules are here (it seemed like maybe Jack was in mortal peril when the military started attacking his sled?), but as a skeleton and a rag doll, we think they’re at least immortal in the elven “no death by natural causes” sense. People might say, “Til death do us part,” but not even death can stop them!

5. Sally supports Jack even when she disagrees with him -  What’s love if it’s not standing with someone even when they fail spectacularly, especially when you warned them about it beforehand and they didn’t listen to you? Sally doesn’t say “I told you so” even once. We think that’s magic.

6. They look so good together -  We know it’s what’s on the inside that truly counts, but look at them. Jack is the dapperest, and Sally the most chic. 

7. They’re simply meant to be -  It’s plain to see.

Now after seeing the above points ^, I reached to the conclusion that Jikook must relate to them, since Jack and Sally are couple goals, kekeke~

And we know that by coincidence, ‘Sally’ (another character with same name as of sally in the movie) is a part of Line friends collection, and Jimin is often seen with her.

(wiki)

Line Friends (stylized as LINE FRIENDS) are featured characters based on the stickers from messaging app Line. It was released in 2015 by Line Corporation, a Japanese subsidiary of the South Korean internet search giant Naver Corporation. These characters are used in various products, animation, game, cafe, hotel and theme park. The brand is currently managed by its subsidiary Line Friends Corporation since 2015.

Sally: with her unexpected charm, cute little Sally brings joy to her friends with full of bright and wild ideas. Don’t be fooled by her cuteness. She might reveal other side of her you’ve never expected! 

So it could be that Jimin related both sallys with himself and that is why he was so intrigued by the movie. Also who is as impulsive as Jungkook? Jack maybe ;)

Not to forget their whole Disney trip was nightmare themed. many even say that jk wore jack themed cap. hahaha. This relation is cute. :))

edit : for clarification, I have taken the NBC points from wiki, oh my disney and imbd. I have yet to watch the movie. and I m not analysing the movie, please keep that in mind, I have just stated a few facts I collected. and no nbc isn't a romantic movie.

the end result of the movie is what I highlighted that jikook may have related to. I could be wrong. so don't come in my ask box to hate on me for that.

[nancypullen]

So Far, So Good

I have no beef with November.  She showed up right on time and brought some lovely chilly weather with her.  She’s sprinkling her colorful magic all over the trees and generally being delightful.  Unfortunately she is also the gateway to holiday food and I’m like a junkie who’s been clean for a year but I’m ready to score a casserole.  I eat a very healthy balance for ten months and then *BOOM*  the Butterball turkeys show up at Kroger and all bets are off.  I wish I could buy willpower.  Sadly, I can’t even say that I fight temptation, oh no, I jump in with both feet and create the temptation.  On Saturday the mister and I were running errands...Lowe’s, Kroger, Tractor Supply for donkey corn to keep the deer in our yard during hunting season, the usual.  I told him that we needed to swing into the library parking lot because I had a couple of books on hold.  Were these volumes to entertain or expand my mind? No. They will only expand my thighs.

Come on.  You can’t tell me that that doesn’t look like fun!  Last week I baked cookies.  I hadn’t baked anything in forever because we don’t need it hanging around the house.  But I had an excuse.  I had swapped cat sitting duties with a neighbor (Willie’s other mom).  They were out of town for a few days in September and I dutifully went over and got the mail, fed her cats twice a day, scooped litter, let them out in the morning and back in for dinner, and gave them love.  In turn, when we went up to Maine she came over and scooped litter, fed our kitties wet food once a day, brought in the mail, etc.  She even took our garbage can to the curb and brought it back in.  They left town again just before we returned from our trip but had a relative house sitting.  They returned last week.   She’d given me a restaurant gift card as a thank you for watching their kitties, so I did the same but also used my gratitude as an excuse to make my favorite fall cookie - gingersnaps!  I figured I’d take a batch over with the gift card so they’d have dinner and dessert. Pulling that bottle of molasses out of the top cupboard felt like a homecoming. I uncovered the ol’ KitchenAid mixer and had one of the best afternoons I’d had in ages.  Playing music, baking cookies, and watching leaves flutter to the ground through the kitchen window - it just doesn’t get much better than that.  Of course I kept a baker’s dozen on a plate for us and they were gone in no time.  The floodgates are open. I did it.  I sabotaged myself.  And I loved every minute of it.  Please do not suggest that I could enjoy the same magical experience by whipping up a batch of bran muffins or tofu brownies.  That’s just crazy talk. Bustling around the kitchen and filling the house with delicious aromas - it’s such simple comfort.  My sister and I have had conversations recently about how, now more than ever, it’s important to keep sweetness and simplicity in our lives.  I actively seek out the whimsical side of life - enchanting art, silly poems, looking for clouds shaped like animals, all of it.  I’m drawn to fairy tales and their illustrations. I love a happy ending.  Remember when I mentioned that I’d picked up a watercolor by Maine artist Marvin Jacobs?  I didn’t choose a seascape or a harbor painting.  I picked this guy.

 It’s so important to keep sweetness in your life, otherwise the daily news will drag you under.  Be aware, be informed, work diligently for change, but leave room for lightness.   I’m saying all of this so that you’ll know why my heart cracked open and I cried when my sister sent a box full of joy straight to my mailbox.  Seems that she caught wind of a woman clearing out some treasures and she picked up a batch of Royal Albert Beatrix Potter figurines for a song!  She picked out three for me as a surprise and I can’t tell you how happy my heart is when I look at my kitchen window sill.

Jemima Puddleduck,  Mrs. Rabbit & Bunnies, and Old Mr. Brown.  Oh, my heart!  My sister told me that she knew I needed the Mrs. Bunny figure because she’s cuddling her two babies - like my two babies! 

Add to that the reminder that my Grandma Ethel called me Cuddlebunny, sewed bunny patches on my jeans during the summer that I chased her sheep and named all of her chickens, and I’m a puddle.  My sister and I love Beatrix Potter’s sweet (there’s that word again) stories and illustrations.  When the mister and I went to London I scoured the stalls on Portobello Road to find an old Beatrix Potter illustration to bring home and frame.  It hangs in the sweetest room in our house, the grandgirl’s room!

Can you imagine what it meant to me to open that box from my sister?  That was a box of love, my friends.  Now I need to add to my collection.  My sister is a fan of Hunca Munca, the busy little mouse.  She kept this figurine and said she identified with it.  I think she’s spot on.  I’ll have to look for more Hunca Munca for her.

I think we both agree that something about these little statues reminds us of time spent in Weiser.  Being at our grandparents little pink house was paradise.  My sister stayed at Grandma’s elbow, watching her sew and cook.  I stuck to her like glue outside learning about her chickens and flowers.  Her gardens were so lush.  Once when I was pretending to be outlaw Belle Starr, western rule-breaker and heartbreaker, I used one of her giant snowball bushes for my hideout.  It was so big and full that I could crawl under the lowest boughs and sit up inside.  It was beautiful and smelled good, just the sort of spot Belle would choose.  We were always so carefree in Weiser - my brother and I taught the sheep to play hide ‘n seek (really!).  If you’ve never seen a sheep hide behind a tree and peek out at you, you haven’t lived.  We named chickens after characters from Robin Hood.  My Grandpa Carl thought I was a hoot.  He spoiled me and I was his favorite.  Turns out that every one of his grandkids could say the same.  We were so safe and loved on their patch of Idaho.   I tried to put plenty of magic and whimsy into my kids’ childhoods.  They probably aren’t even aware that some of their silliest thoughts were planted there early.  I’ll bet when they see birds lined up on a wire and their first thought is “bird meeting” they don’t remember the dialogue I’d make up when we saw things like this -

Bird meeting!  #1 on the agenda is cat location...new orange tabby moved in on corner of Elm and Oak, so be aware.  Worm of the Month award goes to Maurice for the whopper he pulled out of a garden on May 5th. Way to go!  Congratulations to Stanley and Mary on hatching 4 eggs last Wednesday. That’s a lot of mouths to feed, so if anyone has extra bugs, slugs, or worms let them know. You get the idea.  They were little, Mom was just rambling at a red light, but I’ll bet that BIRD MEETING pops into their heads when they a feathered gathering.  Besides, when you anthropomorphize creatures I think kids are less likely to harm them and more likely to empathize. Whimsy with a purpose. Wow.  I apologize.  This blog post is all over the place and as usual I had no plan.  I just sit down at the laptop and empty my brain.  It’s therapy for me and a sleep aid for you. Win-win! On that note I will wrap this up and go dance around the kitchen with a broom.  I used panko when making last night’s eggplant dinner and based on the crunch I heard under my slippers this morning I didn’t sweep it all up.  Your assignment for today is to seek out sweetness.  When you find it, hold on to it.  Take it like a vitamin every day for a healthy soul.   Have a cookie too, can’t hurt might help. XOXO

[ucessaycreativityexample905]

professional writers

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[rhetoricandlogic]

JOINT REVIEW: THE GIRL WHO CIRCUMNAVIGATED FAIRYLAND IN A SHIP OF HER OWN MAKING BY CATHERYNNE M VALENTE

Twelve-year-old September lives in Omaha, and used to have an ordinary life, until her father went to war and her mother went to work. One day, September is met at her kitchen window by a Green Wind (taking the form of a gentleman in a green jacket), who invites her on an adventure, implying that her help is needed in Fairyland. The new Marquess is unpredictable and fickle, and also not much older than September. Only September can retrieve a talisman the Marquess wants from the enchanted woods, and if she doesn’t . . . then the Marquess will make life impossible for the inhabitants of Fairyland. September is already making new friends, including a book-loving Wyvern and a mysterious boy named Saturday. With exquisite illustrations by acclaimed artist Ana Juan, Fairyland lives up to the sensation it created when the author first posted it online. For readers of all ages who love the charm of Alice in Wonderland and the soul of The Golden Compass, here is a reading experience unto itself: unforgettable, and so very beautiful.

Stand alone or series: It can be read as standalone but hopefully it will be a series? Pleaaaaase Ms Valente?

How did we get this book: The author made the book available online free of charge, a couple of weeks ago and we rushed to download it. But we will get final copies soon.

Why did we read this book: Because it looked and it sounded great. And it won an Andre Norton Award. Not to mention that it is a Catherynne Valente book.

Review:

First Impressions:

Ana: I will try my best to be coherent about this book and not to break out the caps lock too much but it will be hard because OH MY GOD. This is the book that rescued me from a horrible reading slump; it is the book that made me realise that Cat Valente is an AWESOME writer (which I already suspected but this settled the matter); it is a book that is so beautifully written and full of incredible imaginative twists and ideas that I constantly had a sense of wonderment reading it; but above all, this is a book I will treasure forever and keep close and go back to, many times in the future. I just know it.

Thea: I have been an unabashed Cat Valente fan ever since I picked up The Orphan’s Tales (thanks to the glowing reviews from trusted bloggers), and I have seriously loved her adult fiction. When Ana sent me an excitable email (replete with many exclamation points and capslocking) that The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland was available for free download, I joined in the jubilation and immediately scurried my way to Ms. Valente’s website. And then I read the book, and then I fell in love. This is the first book from Ms. Valente that I’ve read that doesn’t employ the nested story-within-a-story, alternating chapters, narrators, and storylines – and even without that particular flavor, Ms. Valente’s writing shines. I, like Ana, loved this book, and I, like Ana, plan on rereading and treasuring this gem of a novel countless times over.

On the Plot:

Ana: It opens one fine day, with (The Somewhat Heartless) Twelve-year-old September being invited to visit Fairyland by the Green Wind. She says yes (and how could she not, being a fierce and adventurous girl?) and travels forthwith by means of Leopard (which is obviously, the best way to travel, if you ask me). In Fairyland, she will have many adventures and meet new friends including a half-library Wyvern (who most certainly is NOT a dragon) and a blue boy named Saturday. But also: this is where she might lose many things (including her shadow) and meet the all-powerful Marquess who sends her on a quest to retrieve a mysterious casket and what lies inside may well change Fairyland forever.

I am in AWE, folks, in AWE at Cat Valente’s creativity. This book is so full of wonderfulness that it is difficult to know where to start. Perhaps with the narrative itself, with an omnipotent narrator who sometimes interrupts the story to speak directly to the reader. It is so easy to get this wrong, to have these interruptions jarring and disrupting the narrative but not here: here it works well, and it adds to the story rather than disturbing it.

Then there is the creativity, the imagination: like for example, a creature that believes himself to be the son of a library and another one that is a soap golem; there is a herd of wild bicycles as well as flying leopards.

But this is only SURFACE, because underneath each creature has an underlying idea or concept or issue that is addressed with subtly and beauty: from a search for self-identity (if Wyvern is not the son of a library, then who is he?) to the horrible truths of slavery; from selfless devotion to political unrest. This is a book that celebrates fairytales without ever being derivative and never forgetting that they can be dark and gruesome. It sort of reminds me of Peter Pan and Neverland and how every child wants to visit Neverland and its wonders but let’s not forget: it is indeed a dangerous place inhabited by bloodthirsty people including young boys who are there because their mothers and nannies lost them.

Because in the end, I think that the most important thing to say about The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland is: you cannot have adventures without grief. And there is no shying away from it. But despite the grief and darker undertones, there is a lot of love and friendship here enough to – I can’t resist any longer, allow me to break out the caps lock- FILL MY HEART WITH JOY.

And then, to make things even BETTER, this book has the most amazing illustrations!

(link)

I mean, seriously. How can anyone resist?

Thea: Yes, yes, yes. What Ana said. The Girl (I am truncating this title because it is cumbersome to type, and much like September, who loves “A through L” as her friend Wyvern’s name, it is far too many syllables) is a gorgeous, imaginative novel that celebrates the daring-do of youth, the magic of the unknown, and the pitfalls and horrors of power. Also, this is decidedly unlike any other novels I’ve read by Ms. Valente, not only because the narrative style is more traditional, but also because the prose is ever-so-slightly screwball (I mean that in the best way). I completely agree with Ana that the omniscient narrator is a fantastic touch and sets the overall tone for the novel – doing the whimsical, breaking-the-fourth-wall type of narration can easily go sowrong – providing levity and whimsy, but tempered with actual thematic depth (the aforementioned examinations of slavery, of polity, and so on and so forth). This is a tall order, and to accomplish all of that in a children’s book, without ever becoming preachy or ham-handed, or completely frivolous is flabbergasting. I am honestly in awe of how Ms. Valente managed to weave together some of the most absurd story elements (migrating bicycles, hello!) into a cogent, poignant story.

The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland is an amalgam of some of my most treasured stories, conjuring comparisons to The Neverending Story, Peter Pan, but most of all, it feels to me like a modern, more-fun version of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland – and if anyone is worthy to earn comparison to these classic works of children’s fantasy literature (even surpassing them), it is Catherynne Valente.

On the Characters:

Ana: There is a whole plethora of wonderful characters in The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland and I fell in love with every single one of them. I felt so bad for the lonely Soap Golem who was still waiting for the return of her Queen; I felt tremendously sorry for Saturday and how terrible it was that his entire life was about granting wishes and the horrendous way he was made to grant those wishes. Hey, I even sympathise with the villain, the Marquess, once her full story is disclosed – scrap that: I completely related to the Marquess and her motivations and maybe even rooted a little for her. But just a little.

Then of course, there is September, our main character, who is so fierce and a bit heartless that she leaves her house and her family behind without even thinking twice – but that decision is brought back and thought about throughout the entire book. She is dedicated, extremely loyal, compassionate, creative and just such a cool young heroine.

Thea: Yep, this is another one of those reviews where I am sitting in the back nodding my head emphatically, playing hype-man to Ana’s lead. What she said. I loved the lovely Soap Golem, and I loved SATURDAY, and I loved the Marquess (because, having been something of a heartless child myself, I have a soft spot for characters like this), and I loved A-through-L (or “Ell”) and the Green Wind and the leopard, and of course, more than anything, I loved September. September is not particularly pretty or smart or brilliant, but she is September – a normal, if slightly heartless, little girl from the decidedly unromantic land of Omaha, who is swept up by the Green Wind and embarks on an Adventure (with a capital “A”).

What is not to love about this book, I ask you? Nothing. It is perfect.

Final Thoughts, Observations & Rating:

Ana: The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland is a small beautifully packaged bundle of perfect JOY. It is as awesome as a quest-coming of age story can be and I highly recommend it to everybody who loves fairytales, awesome heroines and beautiful writing. This goes straight into my top 10 of 2011.

Thea: I completely and wholeheartedly agree with Ana. It is a fantastical sort of bildungsroman (I have always wanted to use that word and something about Catherynne Valente encourages one to stretch and use vocabulary outside of one’s daily vernacular), a descriptive fairytale, and an imaginative feast of the bizarre and wonderful. I adored this book, and it too has a locked position as one of my top 10 books of 2011 (even if that is technically cheating since it was published prior to this year).

Notable Quotes/ Parts:

When they are in a great hurry, little girls rarely look behind them. Especially those who are even a little Heartless, though we may be quite certain by now that September’s Heart had grown heavier than she expected when she climbed out of her window that long ago morning. Because she did not look behind, September did not see the smoky-glass casket close itself primly up again. She did not see it bend in half until it cracked, and Death hop up again, quite well, quite awake, and quite small once more. She certainly did not see Death stand on her tiptoes and blow a kiss after her, a kiss that rushed through all the frosted leaves of the autumnal forest, but could not quite catch a child running as fast as she could. As all mothers know, children travel faster than kisses. The speed of kisses is, in fact, what Doctor Fallow would call a cosmic constant. The speed of children has no limits.

Additional Thoughts: The author has a website for the book where you can read HOW the book came about and why plus, read the first 8 chapters online, free.

And check out the lovely trailer: