#it’s just so overrated I really really do not like red rocks

[slothrusts]

.

[aklaustaleteller]

Like A Barge At Sea

Since Klaus admitted to infidelity, the harrowing pain of losing her family, her happiness, and her love has Y/n clutched in its arms, crushing her in its tight grip for what felt like was going to be forever. But will Klaus be able to hold a certain grudge against her for long? And if he can, then should he have?

Warnings - Quite mean arguments, mentions of heartbreak, infidelity, killing and blood. Word Count - 4.4k

Now, once again, long time no see, everyone? I'm so sorry it took me a month to get back to you with this -- the second part to 'Said Yes To Heaven'! I can't even believe I'm writing this and I'm sure you can't believe your eyes either fjskbf. In case you haven't read the first part, I highly recommend that you do! Also, thank you to everyone who pressed me for a part two, without you, this fic would not have happened!! And finally, I really really hope you enjoy reading this!!

A week had passed since Y/n confronted Klaus about the infidelity, and he had said admitted to it as if he hadn't been the one in wrong.

She had desperately been wanting to move out, to get away from him but for the sake of their little girl, and her only, she just moved out of their shared bedroom and into one of rooms for the guests.

Klaus was home less and less, probably to avoid her but not absolutely absent because of his undeniable love for Hope. Y/n just wished that he’d have kept the same love for her as well.

But that didn't mean that whatever of a relationship that was left between them was just mean, petty taunts and narrow-eyed glares. Because even now, there were stolen glances, sneaky grazes of touch, one losing their identity in the other one's eyes until the latter one would blink hastily to disguise the sudden shine in their eyes and move on with their day without daring to steal a glance even just one more time.

And now, instead of the staring bringing a maroon glow upon their cheeks, it brought forth a wave of rage to coarse through their stiff bodies because how dare the other one look so longingly at them while clearly being red handed?

Right now, Y/n was sat in Hope's nursery, breastfeeding her in the middle of night when Klaus had come to wake her up about her hunger. Her gaze was set upon her daughter, whose eyes were merely open in even slits anymore.

Perhaps that was because Klaus hadn't left once Y/n had come into the nursery. He was sitting on the floor a little far from the rocking chair she was on, his arms around his knees as he hugged his legs close to his chest.

Y/n didn't have it in her to ask him to leave. Maybe because she was exhausted, or because she didn't quite trust her voice to not give out on her. Every sparing minute that she spent with him in her sight, she wished so badly that he hadn't gone on and messed everything up.

How could he had done it? How could the man, so paranoid regarding his family that he threatened his ex-girlfriend with her life to stay far away from his home, had gone on to bring infidelity into his relationship with the same woman? It was beyond Y/n's comprehensive limits, she feared.

Y/n hadn’t told anyone, in fear of the ‘one gasp and then, how did it end?’ that she’d receive and further on, have to answer. She wasn’t at that level of acceptance, yet.  

With each glance that she spared at him, with her guards low, all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and sob hysterically because he had stolen away her nights, her love, her perfect little family and her happiness from her. He had stolen himself, and everything else from her and she wasn't sure if she was coping so well with all of it.

She couldn't raise her gaze because she knew that he was already looking at her, with those green eyes swarming with something she refused to recognise as love. She had to begin taking in deep breaths because the mere thought of looking into his eyes was making her eyes sting.

And, once what felt like the millionth minute, passed in overrated comfortable silence, Y/n was sure that she heard a choked back sob escape Klaus. And that was enough to make the tear in her eyes to deceive her and fall upon the soft clothing on Hope's little frame.

Another tear fell then, and Y/n had to at the end, sniffle, and that made Klaus sprint out of the room.

Broken down in sobs, Y/n held herself together within a white-knuckled fist and put a fast asleep Hope back in her crib, pressing another kiss somewhere on her face before she too, hurriedly walked out of the room towards the guest room, losing herself throughout the entire way with shaking shoulders and held-within sobs that wreaked havoc inside her chest and held her throat with an iron-tight grip.

—

"Can we talk for a bit?" Y/n spoke monotonously, looking straight ahead instead of looking at Klaus, who looked as worn down as if he'd sparred with a dozen people.

She almost asked him about it, out of an old habit, but held her tongue.

"I'm not so su--"

"It's about Hope," Y/n cut him off, looking into his eyes for a split second before he broke the contact first.

He sat down on the sofa’s farthest end with a huff, looking at the ground.

"I don't want what's going on between us to affect Hope," she began, and that had Klaus raising his gaze with such accusatory eyes that Y/n wanted to scream at him for that itself.

"She's growing up too fast. I don't wish for either of us to miss out on her childhood, maybe her first words even," with a quivering voice, she finished, rubbing her sweaty palms on her jeans.

His jaw was clenched, and she wanted to scoff because of the attitude that held his frame so uptight.

"I'm well aware," Klaus began, his eyes holding distance in them. "I'm her father as well, you see? I don't need you teaching me parenting now."

Scoffing, Y/n shook her head. This was not the way she wanted this to go.

"It clearly seems like you do, since you're barely home," she said curtly, daring him to look her in the eyes and then pretend that he hadn't legitimately cheated on her.

Klaus got up at that. "I would be home more if it weren't for your looming presence!" He exclaimed, raking one hand through his hair before clutching it on the back of his head.

"My looming presence!" Y/n shouted, completely taken aback before hurt began to settle it. "You cheated on me, you bastard!"

"I'm not doing this tonight," Klaus mumbled before he disappeared into the master bedroom.

Eyes turned blacker than her worst nights and the golden rim of an eclipse shining through, Y/n clenched her fists to the extent that she almost wanted for her knuckles to rip open the skin stretching upon them. Brimming with a burning hate, she harshly wiped the tears off her cheeks.

"I hate you!" She screamed, breaking down into sobs when Hope's wailing tore apart the house and Klaus slammed the door shut after showing to Y/n the sight of Hope clung onto his chest as he lulled her.

"You're okay, little wolf," she heard him whisper. "Just a thunder, s' all," he cooed, and Y/n held her head tightly, crouching, wishing to rip her ears out or rip his throat out.

But most overwhelmingly, she felt guilt swallowing her contorted face. She'd gone to talk about saving Hope from the trauma of her parent's failed marriage, and then proceeded to produce a blood-curdling scream knowing the little one was sensitive to the smallest of sighs.

And then Klaus' hateful glare looking down upon her flashed through her mind and she raced out of the house before realising that there was no one she could run off to.

So, upon returning, she sat on the porch of their home, tears icy on her skin as she cried with a shaking body, eyes set on the open sky while everything inside of her begged for all of this horror to be taken back and for her intricately built family to be returned to her.

—

Klaus' eyes hurt, for the never-ending pain wouldn't stop seeping through the cracks in his eyes on the nights when all he wanted was to give in to peace by lying down in his lonely bed with his wife and their little wolf, once again.

And it feels unfair that he's the one losing his mind, the one who's been robbed of his entire life when she's the one who crumpled his heart in her fist by throwing an allegation of infidelity at him.

He hadn't cheated. And he knew that saying this to Y/n would end both of their miseries, but he couldn't quite bring himself to it. What would he say now, since he didn't deny her the very night she'd confronted him about it?

Still, he remembered the tiredness weighing down her eyes and tension twisting each one of her features in a stoned manner. So innocently, she'd asked him after taking a shuddering breath – "did you sleep with Aurora?"

The horror in her eyes had been evident when the love-sickness had drained down his whole posture and his eyes had transitioned from confusion to hurt to a cold, empty gaze in a matter of seconds.

He waited for her to apologise or to break out laughing, saying she was just joking, for a couple minutes. But when she kept on staring at him with wide eyes that held nothing but shock and betrayal in them, he'd swallowed the lump in his throat, accepting that that was just how it was going to be.

"Yes. Yes I did," he'd spat, hoping the anger lacing his tone would make her think. Think that of course he hadn't, how could she think of him in such a way? But she instead slapped him across the face with flared nostrils and tears streaking her cheeks and sped away.

He'd lost control that night and raced away from home as he transitioned into his wolf with one final leap into the forest.

He'd howled the loudest in a long, long time, that night. He'd felt it resonate through his chest and leak through the corners of his eyes as he'd moved through the forest with the wind, leaving behind traces of his tears.

But, upon returning, he realised that maybe he'd been a little too dramatic. Maybe, he'd just cried wolf. He'd showered and hoped that after dinner, they could sit and be civil about it all and work through his hurdle together.

But when he saw her hurting, the knife in his chest twisted deeper as he realised just how easily she'd believed it to be true.

Leaving it to rest for a couple days, Klaus kept on hoping that she'd see for herself what she'd been doing and come around to him. But she never did, and he felt himself fading away day by day.

The previous night, he'd been sitting by the window in the master bedroom, watching over her crumbling figure out on the porch and hating himself for having done this to her. And with resolution, he'd straightened his back and turned away, reminding himself that he wasn't the one with tainted hands.

And despite that, he'd gone over to check whether she'd fallen asleep or not, and then he’d carried her back to the room, laying her down beside Hope's crib while he went to sleep on the sofa in the corner of the room. 

—

Y/n was limping. 

In a flash Klaus was standing in front of her, holding onto her shoulders and looking down at her leg which seemed a little crooked. 

“What happened?” Klaus asked, eyes set on the trail of blood that had seeped through her pants, staining it. 

She shook off his hands then, turning to walk away and up the stairs. She could’ve sped up, but she also should’ve been healed by now considering the fact that she was a hybrid.

Taking advantage of the situation, Klaus sped in front of her, just a step above her on the staircase. He flinched when her eyes flashed golden, but due to reflex, he knew his eyes had flashed as well when he saw the reflection in her sombre eyes. 

“C’mon, tell me,” he whispered, hoping that she’d drop the attitude and just answer him for once. 

“I don’t know,” she began, and Klaus’ shoulders visibly relaxed. “I was running, then something came flying at me and hit me on the leg,” she shrugged, and Klaus could hear that she wasn’t breathing necessarily enough. 

So he backed up a couple steps, and leaned on the railing of the staircase. 

“But you should’ve healed right away,” Klaus pushed, the wheels in his head turning while a frown settled deep between his brows. “Unless…”

“It was a sneak attack,” Y/n finished for him, sighing. 

“Were you turned when you were running?” Klaus asked, moving closer to her as anger began tightening his features and the muscles in his arms flexed under the thin shirt when he fisted his palms. 

“Yes, Klaus.”

It felt strange, the way she said his name with no emotion lingering on it. But Klaus shook off the feeling, pushing it to the back of his head to dwell on it later in the night. 

“So you must’ve caught a sniff!” Klaus exclaimed, hyped that they were getting somewhere. But then he deflated, “if it were someone you’ve met,” he trailed off, now biting his lip. 

“I did, catch a sniff,” Y/n began, standing up straighter as ferocity came ablaze in her eyes. 

Both of them stared at each other in silence, before a certain realisation dawned upon Klaus and he opened his mouth only for no words to come out. 

“You’re right,” Y/n gritted her teeth, affirming Klaus’ unspoken conclusion. “I would’ve finished her off right there had you not… been on my mind,” Y/n stole her gaze from him then, looking down on the flooring from the sidelines of the staircase. 

Shaking off some of his anger to focus on his wife, Klaus offered her his hand. “Come, you’ll need the whole night to heal.” But when she refused to acknowledge it, he exhaled frustratedly. 

Still, when she took no action, Klaus picked her up like he had on the day they’d …said yes to heaven when saying yes to one another,  and carried her to the bedroom at a normal pace, just to agitate further. 

“Fuck you!” Y/n gritted out her last protest, hitting his chest one last time before he was lying her down on the bed and walking back out the door with a smile he wasn’t hiding well. 

He turned in the doorway then, looking at her with raised eyebrows. “Don’t try to clean up yourself, I’ll be back in a moment,” he nodded at her one last time before he was speeding away and out of the house in a flash.

Y/n, who was left behind feeling nothing but the static silence inside of her, moved so that she was sitting closer to Hope’s crib. 

She began thinking if, only for Hope, she should give Klaus another chance. But then, he hadn’t even asked for one. 

Caressing Hope’s head, Y/n slipped her fingers into her hair. The strands were only inches long so far, but it almost felt like her hair had grown overnight. That made Y/n’s chest heavy, realising that even after trying so hard, she had missed out upon the subtle things of Hope’s childhood, already.

And, that was because she had been wallowing in her own misery the whole time. 

She wanted nothing more than to put this blame on Klaus as well, but instead, Y/n brushed away her tears and lied down with Hope on top of her. 

The little girl was sound-asleep, but still she managed to fist Y/n’s shirt and snuggle closer to her. 

Y/n began to rub her back then, staring at the ceiling wondering what Klaus had gone out for. Maybe to confront Aurora for going too far, and crossing the line. Y/n felt herself shrink when she realised that the possibility of that was way too high for her liking.

She pondered as to why he hadn’t asked her for another chance. Why he hadn’t asked for her forgiveness or even shown in his actions that he felt guilty. 

Had he really been that desperate to get rid of her?

A tear slipped past her eyes and into her ear, and Y/n felt her face contort as she tried her hardest to not break down. 

Wondering how long he had felt that way about her, Y/n tilted her face on either side to wipe away the tears on her face on the pillow. She sniffled, and slowly and slowly, she felt herself crumple under all of her grief and anger, causing her to begin trembling.

So she put Hope back into her crib, and curled up on her side, facing away from her daughter as she broke down into shambles, all over again. 

She felt pathetic everytime she lost control like this, it was getting embarrassing and exhausting. She curled into a smaller ball as her throat began to burn due to the sobs she was fighting to hold back.   

Not confident whether she’d fallen asleep for a couple of seconds or through the night, Y/n lent up on her elbows to see it was dark outside. 

Turning to see the clock, Y/n instead saw Klaus, sitting up against the headboard, already looking at her. 

“What time is it?” She asked him, rubbing the sleep from her eyes after noticing that the clock had stopped again. 

“It’s midnight,” he smiled and Y/n panicked, instantly getting off the bed in order to reach Hope. 

“I fed her!” Klaus whisper-yelled before she could’ve picked the little one up, repeating himself when she looked at him frozen on the spot. 

“I’ve fed her before, you don’t need to be so shocked,” Klaus spoked defensively, turning on the lamp on his bedside table. 

Y/n sighed then, sitting back on the bed and shifting until she was also perched up against the headboard. They hadn’t been on the same bed in more than a month. Y/n began playing with her fingers, eyes set on her palms.

“Were you crying?” Klaus mumbled, intertwining his hands. 

Her breath hitched, she’d forgotten about that. “Doesn’t matter,” she answered curtly. 

“It does,” Klaus said. “To me, it does.”

Y/n scoffed at that, taking a quick glance at him before she looked away again, suddenly conscious about her bed-head and probably red-rimmed eyes that even felt a bit puffy. 

“Shut it, Klaus.” Y/n shook her head. “You don’t need to small-talk me.”

“I’m not –” he cut himself off, sitting back with a huff. “I need to tell you something,” he began, his teeth clenched due to unease.

“What?” Y/n’s body went rigid, preparing herself for whatever blow he was about to send her way. 

“I didn’t,” Klaus took a deep breath. “I didn’t sleep with her,” he exhaled sharply before going as still as a statue.

Y/n turned to look at him incredulously at first, before she opened her mouth to speak. 

“What?” She almost shrieked, it being the most unbelievable thing she could’ve ever heard in the moment. “Come again?” She pressed, leaning towards him and looking at him as if he had added insult to her injury. 

“I did not cheat on you,” Klaus repeated, looking at the wall ahead instead of looking at her.

“We can’t do this here,” Y/n said and the both of them sped to the living room’s sofa. Well, Y/n, as well as she could. 

“Are you hearing yourself, Klaus?”

He didn’t say anything, causing her to get up on her injured leg and start pacing around. 

“You are saying you didn’t cheat on me?”

Klaus nodded softly. 

“So, you didn’t sleep with Aurora?” 

Klaus looked up at that, holding her gaze as he said – “I killed her, actually. Tonight, that is,” he told her and Y/n’s face went pale. 

“Wha - you did what?”

“I killed her, Y/n. Hurting you was the farthest I could let her go,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Should’ve done that the day she showed up the second time, now that I think about it.” 

“So – so why didn’t you deny me then? When I asked you about it?” Y/n came to sit beside him, still on the farthest end of the sofa, due to pain shooting through her leg again. 

“Why do you think, Y/n?” Now, he was losing patience. “I’m your husband and you chose to trust some clearly manipulative-vampire over me!” He shouted as lightly as he could, getting up.

But he stood still, unlike Y/n who’d been pacing around as if she’d been losing it. 

“So… you said yes out of spite?”

“Of course, I did!” He insisted. “And I was thinking that someday you’ll come around and see for yourself but you never did!”

Y/n’s jaw clicked. “For so many days, you’ve put the both of us through misery because of this?” Y/n began, getting angrier despite seeing clearly what he was trying to show her. 

“This is not about that! This is about the fact that you don’t have enough trust in me to know that not once in my immortal life would I ever deceive you!” Klaus felt like ranting, and he’d begun pulling on his hair. 

“I was insecure!” Y/n shouted, tears brimming her eyes. “I had given birth days before and some chick comes and tells me ‘she’d have married you as well had she known previously how good you were in bed’!” Her breath caught in her throat. “You couldn’t have expected me to come home and coddle you then!”

Klaus’ eyes were wide, and he was wondering if there was a way someone could kill a person twice. 

“You could’ve just told me that you did not and neither of us would’ve gone through this harrowing pain!” 

Tears were falling down like raindrops of a downpour on her cheeks, so Klaus took the final steps to get close enough to her on order to cup her face. 

He brushed away her tears with his calloused thumbs, hating the grief she held in her eyes still. Perhaps, he should’ve told her earlier. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, pulling her into him as he held her to prevent her from breaking down into pieces. “We’ve got each other, haven’t we? We can come out of this together,” he said, holding her so still that he’d stopped breathing for a second.

Hiccups and sobs were flowing out of her endlessly, until only her sniffles were the sounds in the otherwise silent home.

“I can’t tell if I’m happy that you didn’t cheat on me, or - or,” she took a quick breath, hating how it was hardly reaching her lungs. “Or mad that you didn’t tell me sooner,” she spoke, finally wrapping her arms around him and clutching onto his shirt tightly. 

“I just hope you’ll trust me a little more after this,” Klaus whispered and felt her nodding vigorously against his shoulder. His heart picked up upon the realisation that he had her enclosed in his arms again. 

A chuckle rippled through his chest and he pulled her back, some of her hair strands still sticking onto him. He tucked them back, matting down her hair before he pressed a kiss on her forehead. 

When he backed away, Y/n slipped her arms around his neck before reaching for his mouth that was spread in a wide grin. 

“I hate you so much,” she laughed, pressing her forehead against his with her eyes closed, while Klaus gazed directly at her and pressed another quick kiss to her mouth.

“Like a barge at sea, in the storm I stay clear,” he sing-song’ed, attacking her face with multiple kisses when she cringed away. 

“Did you see how much Hope’s hair has grown?” Y/n asked him excitedly, eyes wide as saucers as she went back to sit down on the sofa. 

“I did! She’s going to have your brunette hair,” he pouted, putting one of his arms around her shoulder and pulling her into his side. 

She snuggled against his chest instinctively, albeit curling up into him while he rubbed his hands up and down her shoulder. 

“You were so vile the day my shout made her cry,” Y/n spoke quietly, her chest tightening and her eyes moistening again.

“I’m so sorry about that, love,” he sighed. “I hadn’t meant that. It’d just stung a bit that you’d think of me as a …bad father.”

“I hadn’t meant it in that way,” Y/n said, looking up at him. “You know I’d not want anyone else as a father for her,” she shrugged, a smile playing on her lips. 

“Such a good one you are that I might be inclined to think you should have another one to look after, a couple years from now, that is” she laughed, winking at him before breaking into a bigger laugh. 

“Shouldn’t have proposed the idea right now if you didn’t want one until another few years!” He whined jokingly, kissing her temple with some extra pressure.

The laughter died down then, and the both of them sat in complete silence. 

“You really were like a barge at sea, though,” she mumbled. “Was I the storm?”

“Hm, I guess?” He said, and giggled when she hit him on the chest. 

Y/n stared into the distance for a while, glad that the storm was over and that she had her life back. Even the thought of the utter misery she’d gone through, thinking she’d never have her family back again, made her shudder. 

“I love you,” Klaus whispered and Y/n looked up at him with a smile, squeezing his hand. “And, I’m sorry.”

“Forever and always, Klaus” she said, lying back down on his chest. “And I’m sorry too,” she went to press a kiss to his neck, but he moved to get off the sofa. 

“C’mon!” She protested, since she’d begun to think of catching up on some much needed sleep. 

“Alright, you need to take a bath to clean up whatever wound you’ve got going on,” Klaus proposed seriously, picking her up bridal style. 

Y/n gasped then. “Do I smell?” She questioned him, mouth still open ajar. 

“No you don’t!” He reassured her before a coy smile stretched across his mouth. “But I do need you to smell a bit more like you have mate,” he said with a grin, before pointing at himself upon putting her back down, now in the bathroom. 

“Oh, I really hate you,” Y/n mumbled bashfully, pretending to look away while Klaus began to get rid of his clothes.

[mooseyspooky]

Moz Solo was already on it @lovely-lady-fox! FamousWhenDead posted the whole thing:

Johnny Marr: How could Meryl Streep agree to be in Mamma Mia?

The guitarist lets us into his cultural life, from his love of David Hockney to making his friends watch a Joan Didion documentary

My favourite piece of music For a long time now, it’s been My Goal’s Beyond by John McLaughlin. Like his work with the Mahavishnu Orchestra, it is in a genre entirely of its own. It’s unquantifiable and makes me feel a certain way, no matter what happens in the outside world.

The lyric I wish I’d written “You’re going to reap just what you sow”, from Perfect Day by Lou Reed.

The instrument I wish I’d learnt Piano. I can play it, but only in amateurish fashion. I should say though there are guitar players who play the piano nicely like Neil Young, Paul McCartney and David Bowie. They play it as a means to an end and do wonderful things with it. But I would like to be a few levels up from there.

The music that cheers me up Any good pop music, which by definition usually means contemporary. There are things from my past that of course make me feel good. But there’s something about hearing music that’s fresh, upbeat and represents the modern world — it makes you feel that everything is OK.

I’m having a fantasy dinner party, I’ll invite these artists and authors Gary Oldman, Muhammad Ali and certainly Marilyn Monroe.

And I’ll put on this music Spirit Power: The Best of Johnny Marr.

Overrated I don’t tend to like shitting on people, but Mamma Mia!, for God’s sake, or We Will Rock You or any of those sorts of musicals. How did it get to that? We’re supposed to go along with the idea that they’re good. What was Meryl Streep thinking she was doing starring in that film, and Julie Walters? What were they thinking? There are a lot of things culturally that we’ve just gone along with and they really must stop.

Underrated

Blindboy Boatclub, the artist and musician from Limerick, is best known as one half of the Irish comedy hip-hop group the Rubberbandits. He’s amazing, has such an interesting way of thinking and also hosts the brilliant series The Blindboy Podcast too. One of the best books I have ever read is his Topographia Hibernica. I can’t recommend him or it enough.

My favourite author

Aldous Huxley. People would assume I’m thinking about Brave New World orThe Doors of Perception, but I’m actually referring to his work after he moved to the United States in the second half of his life. His essays and lectures are even better than his earlier work. I rediscovered him in the Nineties and he is my actual hero. Everything you read of his is an education.

The book I’m reading

Autobiography of Red by Anne Carson. It’s a trip, moving around from style to style. The novel is loosely based on Greek mythology, but set in modern times. It’s relatable and super interesting. PJ Harvey introduced me to Carson, an intriguing cross between an essayist and a poet.

The book I couldn’t finish

The Perennial Philosophy by Aldous Huxley. Just couldn’t do it.

The book I’m ashamed I haven’t read Ulysses by James Joyce. It just sounds so hard going. I love the idea of it and feel genuinely bad that I haven’t read it, but I do also feel like I know so much about it already. I admire it enough, without feeling the need to put myself through the hassle of reading it.

My favourite film Sergio Leone’s film Once Upon a Time in America. When it was first released, I went to see it a few times and decided then it was the best thing I’d ever seen. I recently saw The End We Start From, starring Jodie Comer. It’s so good. Amazingly, I came away from it with this feeling of triumph of the human spirit. It says a lot about what it means to be human and what we fundamentally need, which is compassion, connection, love and understanding. And Comer is just so believable in the role.

The box set I’m hooked on I’m rewatching Nurse Jackie. There’s so much good stuff out there that whenever I occasionally revisit old, great stuff, you forget how much it stands up. I like anything Edie Falco is in. I also have just rewatched the documentary Joan Didion: The Center Will Not Hold. I’ve watched it at least three times and whenever someone comes to my place that hasn’t watched it, I watch it with them.

My favourite TV series It has to be Mad Men. One of my friends is eagle-eyed and noticed that when they put an album on a turntable, it has the correct label from the Sixties. That’s crazy.

The film I walked out on

There are loads, often stuff I take my kids to see and they don’t even notice I’d left. I didn’t enjoy Baby Driver — I didn’t like the music in that at all.

I wasted an evening watching Manchester City play in the Champions League final in 2021.

The last movie that made me cry These days I can cry at almost anything so I can’t remember.

The place I feel happiest Running around Brooklyn, over the Williamsburg Bridge. Or around Portland, Oregon. Whenever I’m at those places, I always run unless I’m injured. I’ve done a lot of things in my life, but nothing quite beats that.

My guiltiest cultural pleasure Cheese and onion pasty, chips and peas. Anybody who says that’s not a culture doesn’t know what they are talking about.

If I could own one painting it would be We Two Boys Together Clinging by David Hockney. Any of his work would be a dream to own. Even the iPad stuff is beautiful. I went to see David Hockney: Bigger and Closer at the Lightroom and it was great.

FamousWhenDead's post of the article

[ellevandersneed]

One of my nagging fears is that someone will or already has screengrabbed a bad take of mine and used me as an example to define the type of person they don't like. I can get really paranoid over my little posts. It's simultaneously a matter of actual insecurity on my part - I find it difficult to live unabashedly as myself for a variety of reasons that I am slowly but surely working on - but it is also sort of a legitimate fear based on the experience of hanging around terminally online people for a large chunk of my life. How long until I have become the non-entity whose existence symbolizes miserable idiocy. How long until I get to play the NPC or the secret liberal pig or the miserable killjoy. Have I been psychoanalyzed by an angry 19 or 33 year old yet? Maybe if it ever happens and I stumble across the digital plaque with my dog face and tumblr handle, a short wall of text made in the moment without much serious thought, captioned by a diatribe about how miserable and pathetic and tiresome this person (me) must be - I'll be able to suddenly realize, on a much deeper level than I do now, that this is an overrated, petty fear. Maybe I'll remember some childhood persecution or familial expectation and be able to process it better. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and the world suddenly turns to pudding and the river becomes lemonade and the great many rusted metal things that line the riverbed transmogrify into delicious rock candy of so many colors and shapes. Maybe I'll have to put in the work and actively fight this insecurity or maybe I can ignore it and do some hard work (and be set free) and one day it won't bug me anymore. Maybe I should tell a friend or a therapist. Maybe I'll learn the process of making rock candy, and make those many shapes and colors and put them on sticks and bring them to parties. Maybe I'll pick up a guitar again and practice until my fingers don't feel so clumsy and I can strum the Flintstones theme effortlessly. I'll ride in a riverboat, plucking out a tune and while I rest my hands I can dip an empty tankard in the river and pull up a draught of sweet lemonade. The boat could go out to sea, and I'll swing below deck whenever the sun or the rain get to be too much for me. The ship could carry a great many underwater compartments. It could house an entire apartment complex that shrinks and grows on the outside, depending on the circumstances, but is always the same size on the inside. I could cover the floors with carpets from around the world. I could sit and look at the famous Persian flaw of an Iranian rug covered in beautiful designs and woven with red, orange, cream, burgundy, cerulean threads and think of my insecurities. What is perfection in a world without a perfect being? Is this idea of improvement, infinite improvement, an attempt to help others and myself or am I just trying to replicate the proverbial Jesus of a pseudo-secular mindset. Am I actually challenging my own insecurities - my petty, trifling, in-sig-nificant insecurities - by thinking in terms of... "Well... other people don't act or think like this. You don't want to act like the wrong type of person, do you?"

I could sit, cross legged and sipping riverwater lemonade, the tips of my fingers sore from pressing down on strings and plucking at them, and ponder all of this forever. The rock candy formations of the riverbed would glide by. Tufts of seaweed that had been transformed into strips of gummy candy filled with sealed pockets of sweet syrup would brush up against the hull of my boat. Swedish fish would wriggle past, or they would sit tight as the tide pulled them in the direction they wanted to go. The world would keep happening regardless. I wonder if I would just be taking myself with me if I were to walk away from this little imperfection in the rug. If I stood up and began to look for problems to fix, tightening pipes, sealing leaks, arranging furniture, I could lose myself, or maybe my flaw would manifest in the ways I behaved. I would be very far from that boy they strung up a couple thousand years back, indeed. So I continue to sit on my rug. I think that maybe, if I sat here long enough, I'd be able to solve the problem that is myself - unravel every knot in my heart so perfectly - that I could leave that part of myself here on the rug to be thrown overboard later. I would, of course, obtain the great goal of enlightenment and be a being of pure light and energy. I would do anything I wanted to. I would become morally invincible, I would become a "good person." It would finally all be over. So I spend the rest of my life, sitting on the rug, unraveling knot after knot - not realizing that the strings that make me who I am are perfectly tying themselves right back up when I'm not looking. Meanwhile the rock candy and the gummy seaweed and the Swedish fish and the whole of the lemonade river would still be passing me by until all of it was eventually long gone and I was all alone - enlightened but alone - the knots would all tie themselves back up pretty quickly indeed if this were the happen. The solace worth taking is that, at least, the knots will be different. At best they will be variations of their old configurations. Fun.

The only other choice seems to be to get up, live life, play songs and fix leaks and drink lemonade and sail with other boats and dance on other decks and help other sailors and eat new candy sealife and live and live and live while stopping every so often to check on that little insecurity in me to see how she's doing. I can augment how I listen and how I communicate and how I set boundaries and how I respect boundaries and try to be a little kinder and forgive myself and do all of the many little things that are in vogue right now while still living. Not unaware and paranoid or sitting still on the floor staring at the tiniest of threads but actually living life as a maker of mistakes and a sad, sweet, happy, angry, patient animal and an artist and a writer and a friend and a neighbor and a stranger. I just won't do it with eyes closed. Or I won't force myself to keep them open if I the strain becomes to much. Or if sleeps call is too sweet. I am tired now. I am so sleepy.

[howlingday]

Weiss: Poor, foolish Whitley. So young, and so naïve.

Whitley: Excuse me?

Weiss: The world harsh and cruel, my baby brother, and no one will listen to you unless you can entertain the masses as well.

Whitley: Don't call me a "baby". Not only is it inaccurate, it is also rude.

Weiss: And yet my words are no less true. One day, you will understand what it means to be ignored because you're boring. If you want the people to learn, you must entertain them. Until we meet again, baby brother. (Leaves)

Whitley: Hm... Perhaps she's right. Perhaps my education could be a bit more... jovial.

---------------------------------------------------

Ruby: ...

Jaune: ...

Whitley: (Rapper get-up) Welcome back to business economics. ...Yo.

Whitley: It has come to my understanding that some of you are having trouble understanding my class. ...Yo.

Jaune: We're the only ones here.

Ruby: Ssh!

Whitley: As such, I have prepared a simple rap to follow along and understand the needed facts to survive in a capitalist-driven economy in which you provide goods and services for your peers and lessers.

Ruby: ...

Jaune: ...

Whitley: ...Yo.

Whitley: (Turns on track, Raps)

She sells sea shells on a sea shore,

But the value of these shells will fall

Due to the laws of supply and demand

No one wants to buy shells,

'Cause there's loads on the sand

Whitley: (Draws seashell on the board, Scratches red X over it)

Step One:

You create a sense of scarcity

Shells will sell much better

If they're rare, you see,

Bear with me,

Take as many shells as you can find

And hide them on an island

Stockpile them high until they're rarer than a diamond

Whitley: (Draws hand, Draws more hands)

Step Two:

Gotta make the people think that they want 'em

Really want 'em

Really fuckin' want 'em

Fuckin' Ironwood wants 'em!

Influencers! Product placement!

Prime time entertainment!

If you haven't got a shell,

Then you're just a fuckin' waste, man

Whitley: (Draws building with seashell, Lancaster draw up logos)

Step Three:

It's a monopoly

Invest inside some property

Start a corporation,

Build a logo,

Do it properly,

"Shells Must Sell"

This will be your new philosophy

Swallow all your morals,

They're a poor man's quality

Whitley: (Lancaster nervously swallow lumps, Whitley draws bigger and bigger circles)

Step Four:

Expand! Expand! Expand!

Clear forest! Make Land!

Fresh blood! On hands!

Whitley: (Draws circles with different things, Lancaster call Weiss)

Five!

Why just shells?

Why limit yourself?!

She sells seashells!

SELL DUST AS WELL!

Whitley: (Wildly draws different randomness, Lancaster joins War of the Roses)

Six!

Sell guns! Sell stocks!

Sell diamonds! Sell rocks!

Sell water to a fish!

Sell the time to a clock!

Whitley: (Excitedly puts up campaign poster, WotR wheel in a projector)

SEVEN!

Step hard on the gas,

Like a bat out of hell,

And run to be the councilman of Mantle!

Whitley: (Puts up more and more posters, WotR gather slides for the projector)

EIGHT!

BIG SMILE! BIG WAVE!

YEAH, THAT'S GREAT!

Know the truth is overrated,

Tell lies out the gate!

Whitley: (Angrily rips down half the posters, WotR turn off the lights)

NINE!

POLARIZE THE PEOPLE!

CONTROVERSY IS THE GAME!

IT DOESN'T MATTER IF THEY HATE YOU IF THEY ALL SAY YOUR NAME!

Whitley: (Projector turns on to blind Whitley, Sees his father staring from the board)

Ten...

The world was yours...

Stepped off the stage as the world applause...

You're a liar. A cheat. A scoundrel. A whore...

Whitley: (Falls to his knees, Sobs)

And you sold seashells on the seashore...

Whitley: (Sniffs, Stands up) Erm, ahem! I, uh, hope you all learned something from this.

Ruby: Er, y-yeah, like, uh, how supply and demand needs to maintain an equilibrium, or else an inflation or deflation will disrupt the economic flow to both consumers and providers detriment.

Jaune: And how product placement can influence people to buy more, and that consumerism helps the provider gain more reach in their influence on others.

Weiss: (Smiles) You did good, Whitley.

Whitley: (Smiles) Thank you.

[allamericansbitch]

Can you maybe (only if you want to) rank Taylor’s albums and maybe also explain why you’d rank them like that?

oh okay ill try

evermore - my beloved, i love how every single song has such a strong identity if that makes sense. like there's this common debate that evermore is the better album but folklore has better songs? i think folklore has a strong identity as an album but the songs dont as much as evermore. every song is so unique and lives in it's own world and i LOVE taylors voice with real instruments and her storytelling is peaked here.

folklore - everything that i said about evermore basically but slightly less. i love the vibes she was able to capture and the whole album paints such a picture- i've always felt like taylor is at her strongest when she's doing something new and this being such a new place for her (genre and writing wise) shows how refreshed she must have felt.

speak now - the most dramatic, messy and honest album in my opinion. its so late teens/early 20s to me in terms of subject matter and i love when she uses some rock influence in her songs and theres so much guitar in this album i love it. also the fact that it's entirely self written insane.

1989 - a modern classic. this also strengthens my theory that taylor is at her strongest when she's doing something new and challenging. i cant believe the first time she tried pop she came out with style, ootw, blank space, etc.... like wtf. the lyrics arent as poetic as one would hope but there still good and very impressive.

fearless - my baby. there's just something so bittersweet about this album and it's so solid. there's not a lot i would cut (from the standard version... vault tracks are different) and its so wholesome and full of whimsy. i love the production on it too, i think it works with her voice so so well and it's aged beautifully.

midnights - okay heres the thing, every criticism ive seen about this album makes sense and i agree but for some reason after seeing it live... idk i like it a lot. there definitely are skips and i get why people were just unimpressed truly... but some of the songs are so insanely catchy and i like the way her voice sounds... cant explain it.

red - i think this album is really good when you're in a certain place in your life or a certain mood, it's not an everyday album for me. i think it has some of her best ballads/slow songs but the upbeat ones lack for me. the best ones are holy ground and state of grace tbh. plus with how long red tv is... it's a bit overwhelming.

debut - she's cute but she could be improved upon and it's her first album so we can cut her some slack, i love iomwiwy, tim mcgraw, picture to burn, should've said no, our song, etc. she has standouts she's nice.

reputation - this is where we go into the negatives outway the positives. this production is way too much for me, like i said her voice sounds it's best with real instruments underneath is to me- so this really fake manufactured production just doesnt work. it also aged sooo badly to me. this album live is a different story tbh but recorded it's just not my fav. when she's performing it live she adds real instruments and im praying that she does that with the rerecording because it helps so much. the only songs i would literally die for her not to change is lwymmd, dress, so it does, and ready for it. i think dont blame me is so overrated and dont understand why people love it.... im sorry. it's so basic to me... we've seen the whole 'your live is my drug' this so often and the production is basic too... i feel like anyone could be singing it.

lover - my god what this album could have been. this has some of her best and some of her worst. my list of complaints is long. i dont like the production- same reasons as reputation, way too fake and clunky. some of the lyrics are.... wild. the setlist is strange, i would cut like 4 songs tbh. i love cruel summer, inthaf, sygb, lover, london boy and false god.

[gaietygirl]

The Magic Position - Patrick Wolf :*

Fiend, you know this is my least favourite album by him! I do like many of the songs but the production is so jarring to me on a lot of the poppier tracks. But since I know you love it and I actually do like it (just not as much as his other albums), let's do this. (I just remembered I tried to dye my hair the same shade of red his hair is on the cover in 2009-ish, so the cover art at least had a big impact on me.) "The Magic Position" - Patrick Wolf (2007)

The best song on the album: "Bluebells" by far. I prefer the 2012 trad. folk version but I also actually really like the original and I wish the entire album was done in this style. It's a perfect folktronica ballad, the lyrics are lovely, it's actually one of my favourite Patrick Wolf songs. My favorite song on the album: "Bluebells" as well but since I don't want to pick it twice, I'm going with "The Stars". It has the same magical folktronica vibes, it's just very pretty and the beat drop is awesome. My least favorite song on the album: "Enchanted" is usually a skip for me, so much that I actually don't even know any of the lyrics to it. It's been what, sixteen years since this album came out? I don't think I've listened to it more than five times in all this time. The most overrated song on the album: The title track has the most plays on Spotify and I actually do think "The Magic Position" is a bit "overrated" (though none of his songs really are). It's nice but I also prefer the folk version from 2012 to the original a lot just because I really don't love the poppy production and I think there are way better tracks on the record. Most underrated: "The Stars" again. I was surprised it had so few plays on Spotify, even less than "Enchanted". It actually reminds me a lot of "The Tinderbox", which is also one of my favourite Patrick Wolf songs (maybe my favourite one of all time), I really like it. The banger of all bangers: "Accident & Emergency" for sure. I don't love it but it sure goes hard and I remember rocking out to it when I was 16, ha.

Rate from 0-10: 7/10 (Surprise! But like I said, I do like this record, I just like all his other ones better.) My favourite Patrick Wolf record is "Wind in the Wires" from 2005.

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #1038: First Day of the Christmas Month (SSBU X Kingdom Hearts)

Pit: Goooooooooood Morning, One in All!~

Sora: How are we doing on this fine day?~

Ren: Pretty good on my end

Mona: Same here.

Yoshi: Yep.

Pitto: Tired as all heck, but I'm fine I guess

Pit: Sweet! Cuz guess what day it is today?~

Yoshi: December 1st?

Sora: Yep! Which meeeeeeans?~

Pitto: Oh God here we go...

Pit: THE FIRST DAY OF THE MONTH TOWARDS CHRISTMAS IS UPON US, FELLA!!

Sora:

Mona: Wait, you guys celebrate the first day of month?

Sora: Only when December comes around. It helps us get more excited for Christmas to come around in a few more days lol

Pit: And we figured what better way to start the day off than to wake our wonderful girlfriends up with the sweet sound of Mariah Carey!.....Which.... haven't really worked out for either of us in the end....

Ren: They caught you two red handed, didn't they?

Sora: Yeah....With iron grips

Pit: And creepy smiles to boot.....

Sora/Pit: (⊙_⊙) (⊙_⊙)

Pitto: Serve you dumbasses right lol

Pitto: No one wants their eardrums blasted by that dumb song all morning

Pit: We knoooow, but it's such a classic tho!

Sora: The slow, beautiful start up, the jingling bells, the upper instrumentals, the catchy lyric, what's not to love!

Pitto: How overrated it gotten

Pitto: I swear, I see people play it everywhere in the past two years!

Yoshi: Yeahhh the song's great and all, but even I gotten tired of it at some point.

Yoshi: I'm more of a Jingle Bell Rock person

Ren: This Christmas will always be one of my Top Holidays Jams

Yoshi: The orignal or the one made by CB?

Ren: Orignal. Although, I am starting to warm up to the newer versions of the song in particular

Morgana: I like Silent Night quite a lot

Morgana: More specifically, the Temptations version.

Pit: Yesssssss! Their take on the song was soooo good to listen too!

Pitto: Have u guys heard their version of Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer?

Pitto: Smoothiest Christmas song I've ever heard in my life

Ren: Agree with you on that one, Angel Brotha

Yoshi: Yeah. Temptations always knows how to make their hits smooth. They even made a Garfield song the most catchy thing ever like wth!?

Mona: Seriously? What's it called?

Yoshi: Shake Your Paw. It plays once Jon starts busting moves on the dance floor, it's incredible

Sora: Ooooh I wouldn't mind seeing a video of that at one point

Pit: Yeah me too

............................................................................

Riku: (In the Kitchen Room) Guys! Breakfast is Ready!!

Sora/Pit: (Turns to the Kitchen Room Way While Sitting on the Living Room's Sofa with Kirby) 'Kay!

Viridi/Kairi: (In the Other Room) Coming!

Kirby: (Happily Raises his Hands Up in Rejoice) Poyo!~

...............................................................................

Sora: Hey guys, my BF Riku has just finished cooking breakfast for us, the girls, and Kirby

Sora: Wanna dig in with us?

Ren: Sounds nice, but I can't

Ren: I'm already making breakfast of my own and for my Queen back home

Ren: Just a little somethin' the celebrate for completing the N.N.N. Challenge for the first time!

.........................................................................

Ren Amimaya: SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETES THE CHALLENGE

........................................................

Pitto: Oh God, you seriously took part in that dumb challenge?I

Ren: Yep. Ryuji dared to me to it actually

Ren: Not the easiest challenge I've ever taken, but it wasn't too hard either

Sora: Wait. What's the No Nut .November. challenge again?

Pit: Yeah. Does it really involve not eating anything nuts related for a whole month?

Ren: Yeahhhh......

Ren: Something like that.....

Ren: Anyways, Makoto's waking up, so I gotta go now. Ciao.

Big Bro Ren Has Left the Chat.

Mona: Riiiight.....

Mona: But anyways, I gotta get going too. I promised Futuba I would help and Boss open up shop this morning.

Mona: Plus, I kinda need to think of a gift to give to Lavenza for our first year anniversary....

Sora: Awwwwwwww that's so sweeet!!~

Piyt: Do you want us to help you look for anything someday this week?

Mona: Sure! I could use all the help I could get really lol

Mona: Anyways, have a great rest of the morning and see you all later

Mona Has Now Left the Chat.

Pit: What about you and Yoshi, Pitto?

Pitto: That depends.

Pitto: How's good is his cooking?

Sora: Godly

Sora: His meals and craftsmanship are compared to that to many gods and powerful beings alike

Sora: My only wish in life I'd that my cooking skills will be close to being as good as his someday......... (˘_˘٥)

Pit: Oh my gosh, everything you said just now was beautiful and all inspiring!

Sora: Thanks. Bro. I only speak from heart and mind of a Keyblade Warrior

Pit: Preach, Spra, PREACH!

Pitto: Uh.....huh

Pitto: But yeah, I'll take you losers up on the invitation

Yoshi: Me too

Yoshi: And also......

Yoshi: I think I might have an idea of how we can all start the first day of December off.

Pit/Sora: You do!?

..........................................................

Dark Pit: (Raises an Eyebrow in Confusion at Yoshi While Sitting Next to Him on the Living Room Sofa) You do?

Yoshi: Yeah, I do. (Turns to See a Mistletoe Hanging Up From the Ceiling in the Distance Before Turning Back to DP) You'll.....probably won't like this one though.

Dark Pit: (Immediately Puts on a Deadpinned Look on his Face) What makes you think that exactly?

Yoshi: Welllllllllllll.........

To be Continued

@keyenuta

@princekirijo

@cyber-wildcat

@ma-lemons

@khtext

@26shann

[meredpremium-fashion]

Chiefs Patrick Mahomes Juju Smith Schuster Travis Kelce Isiah Pacheco Trent Mcduffie And Chris Jones Signatures Shirt

Chiefs Patrick Mahomes Juju Smith Schuster Travis Kelce Isiah Pacheco Trent Mcduffie And Chris Jones Signatures Shirt

Montenegro’s new flag adopted in 2004 is, according to the Chiefs Patrick Mahomes Juju Smith Schuster Travis Kelce Isiah Pacheco Trent Mcduffie And Chris Jones Signatures Shirt Besides,I will do this government, a return to the traditional old flag of Montenegro that was originally used by the Crnojević dynasty in the 14th century, and was the flag of independent Montenegro in the 19th century. The flag of Kosovo was adopted in 2008 after a public competition for which 933 entries were submitted. According to the designer, the colours were – like those of B-H – chosen to represent the hope for cooperation with the “Euro-Atlantic” powers (EU and NATO). Using a map of the country in the flag is a very safe, unpolitical choice; equally, the six stars are meant to represent Albanians, Serbs, Romani, Bosniaks, Turks and Macedonians living together in harmony.

Buy this shirt:  Chiefs Patrick Mahomes Juju Smith Schuster Travis Kelce Isiah Pacheco Trent Mcduffie And Chris Jones Signatures Shirt

Home:  Meredpremium

==================================

Official Chiefs Patrick Mahomes Juju Smith Schuster Travis Kelce Isiah Pacheco Trent Mcduffie And Chris Jones Signatures Shirt

Right now they have superstar team, they have a squad that challenge whole world. Yet, their unity among the Chiefs Patrick Mahomes Juju Smith Schuster Travis Kelce Isiah Pacheco Trent Mcduffie And Chris Jones Signatures Shirt Besides,I will do this team is low. We often overrate Belgium because they have Lukaku, Kompany, Fellaini, De Bruyne, etc. Have we ever asked that are they really united into a single form? Germany has tons of stars but they are united and determined. Belgium has tons of stars but they are disunited and only mine-for-mine only. Hence Belgium was humiliated so much on a match against a weaker Italian team at Euro 2016 or Belgium got smashed down in the same Euro 2016 on the hand of the Red Dragons – Wales.. Which lesson has Belgium learnt? While everyone will suggest white , I will suggest black be it formal or casual you can just rock your clothing with that colour.

Buy this shirt:  https://meredpremium.com/product/chiefs-patrick-mahomes-juju-smith-schuster-travis-kelce-isiah-pacheco-trent-mcduffie-and-chris-jones-signatures-shirt/

Home:  Meredpremium - Meredpremium – Luxury Clothing & Accessories for men and women in the USA

==================================

Top Chiefs Patrick Mahomes Juju Smith Schuster Travis Kelce Isiah Pacheco Trent Mcduffie And Chris Jones Signatures Shirt

Montenegro’s new flag adopted in 2004 is, according to the Chiefs Patrick Mahomes Juju Smith Schuster Travis Kelce Isiah Pacheco Trent Mcduffie And Chris Jones Signatures Shirt Besides,I will do this government, a return to the traditional old flag of Montenegro that was originally used by the Crnojević dynasty in the 14th century, and was the flag of independent Montenegro in the 19th century. The flag of Kosovo was adopted in 2008 after a public competition for which 933 entries were submitted. According to the designer, the colours were – like those of B-H – chosen to represent the hope for cooperation with the “Euro-Atlantic” powers (EU and NATO). Using a map of the country in the flag is a very safe, unpolitical choice; equally, the six stars are meant to represent Albanians, Serbs, Romani, Bosniaks, Turks and Macedonians living together in harmony.

Right now they have superstar team, they have a squad that challenge whole world. Yet, their unity among the Chiefs Patrick Mahomes Juju Smith Schuster Travis Kelce Isiah Pacheco Trent Mcduffie And Chris Jones Signatures Shirt Besides,I will do this team is low. We often overrate Belgium because they have Lukaku, Kompany, Fellaini, De Bruyne, etc. Have we ever asked that are they really united into a single form? Germany has tons of stars but they are united and determined. Belgium has tons of stars but they are disunited and only mine-for-mine only. Hence Belgium was humiliated so much on a match against a weaker Italian team at Euro 2016 or Belgium got smashed down in the same Euro 2016 on the hand of the Red Dragons – Wales.. Which lesson has Belgium learnt? While everyone will suggest white , I will suggest black be it formal or casual you can just rock your clothing with that colour.

Buy this shirt:  Click Here to buy this Chiefs Patrick Mahomes Juju Smith Schuster Travis Kelce Isiah Pacheco Trent Mcduffie And Chris Jones Signatures Shirt

Home:  https://meredpremium.com/

[itsnotmandatorybee]

December 31, 2022

Saturday

10:59 AM

These children interrupted my sleep.

I'm now living in the city, and I don't really know if I should call it one—Internet's slow, streets are no different to our barrio, but this place not even bothered to put more colorful lanterns or banners around.

Now, let's go back to these children with their horns. I'm literally having a headache. Those noises are louder than bumpy cars, choo-choo trains, and the sound of my speakers when I play my favourite songs.

And—yes, I should take a note that when I was a kid, I always told to stop since it's still morning, and blowing horns aren't good while people are hustling for their media noche, and noises got them head scrumble, saying, "Sa susunod na araw, umbok na 'yang pisngi mo." Yes, the "beke" or mumps that sounded like "beki" when my innocent self don't know what it means 'til the moment I had one, and had no choice but to put "tina" on the part of my face where mumps grow... only to know that it's an infection and I was a victim of Dr. Quack's scheme. I regret of smelling like sour milkfish soup. Paksiw!

Horns are delightful and you need to put so much pressure to blow it. Then you'll just trying to give yourself the context not to think about "horns" anymore 'cause you might wondering I am trying to tell you about "horn" and not "horn".

Let's just forget about it, let's go back to these children.

The tip of the horn full of saliva. Then there goes 12, and I'm l'll scream with after father lit Judas' belt, and my hearty soul will rock. Speakers are on its full volume. Round fruits are forbidden to be touched. TV's open for the countdown. 3... 2... 1...

Then there goes 3 or 4 AM when everybody's sleeping, and I need to take care of my Mom's plate not to fall as I wash 'em with a bubbly soap and new sponge.

And, yes. I'll blow horns at 5 AM and no one cares. They're all sleeping like cooking oil in sitting peacefully in the kitchen, and I'm living my best life as a kid, and will turn afterwards to play Beyblade and brick game.

And, yes. I believe Taylor Swift is a Filipina, for we lit Christmas light up 'til January. Not to mention how immortal spaghetti is and still good like an MMFF movie on its second week.

And, yes. For Pete's sake, I wonder why these kids stopped blowing horns after writing this one. Probably, they're tired or will sleep in the middle of the afternoon to save their energy for New Year's eve.

And, yes. I should do the same 'cause I need to work exactly at midnight. No hams or salad on sight, but my warm desktop and keyboards are waiting in front of me.

This time, my perspective has changed. I once wrote this a year ago, and I know it made my 2022 a year of clownery:

"When I was a kid, people say that don't talk when your mouth is full. When I grown up, people say that don't love when still unsure."

And, yes. I should be writing of what 2022 had been into my life. Well, it's like waiting in a bus for 8 full hours. It's like waiting for someone who can't even bother to leave a message 'cause they don't f*ck*ng care, or more than a farewell message to a friend with their resignation letter, or a tea party, or a family problem, or existential crisis, or red and pink, or ties and sneakers... or a plan never brought to life, but a series of lightness and darkness intertwined and compiled into a book, with no strings or sentimental things attached.

These children interrupted my sleep.

And, I don't know what I'm talking about. Really.

One thing's for sure. I'm not yet ready, but I need to be one, but...

Here's to another laugh and pain. Here's to more roadtrips and sleepless nights.

Here's to you is overrated.

I should say, "here's to me..."

Here's to me and my 2023.

[jackalsprey]

Unspoken Rules

Hey @asktrio516 I wrote your man and your pretty fish girl, get the fuck over here. And yes, Laura and the designs I had in mind while writing this belong to Emma and her wonderful self, love ya <3

Also, the nickname were way too much fun and Henry is a badass, just cause I'm a blatant simp for this man. This is really fucking bad XD

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE LAURA!" Duck shouted, flushing as red as James's paint.

"What's the matter Duckie?" The mermaid asked, kicking her legs in humanoid form.

"CLOTHES!"

She rolled her eyes. "No one's here. Clothes are overrated. Besides, don't you enjoy the view?"

"What does the ocean have to do with you being naked?!"

She deadpanned. "Duckie."

He quickly threw his jacket off and shoved her arms through it unceremoniously. She sighed, but allowed it. He was too cute when he was embarrassed anyway.

Once Duck had finally calmed down and allowed Laura a place on his lap, the two fell into a comfortable silence. They were on Bluff's Cove, leaning against the rock arch over the track, watching the sun go down. The waves lapped at the sea gently, providing not only a shimmering, splendid view, but a relaxing sound that one could fall asleep to.

Duck had nearly done so (likely with a large amount of drool) when a sound straight out of hell made him jump. Laura perked up and looked wildly around.

"Angel Fish? You see anything?" Her senses were heightened above that of an engine's and far more than a human's.

"Oh shit," she muttered. "Stinkbomb's here."

Stinkbomb was her nickname for Diesel. Duck swore under his breath and scrambled, trying to get Laura out of sight, but it was too late. Diesel rounded the corner in train form, hauling the final goods train of the day. He braked hard the moment he saw his rival and the fish woman, eyes wide.

"Well, well, well!" He called. "Gettin' hot and heavy with the fish, Duck Fuck? Can't you get salmonella from that?"

"Better salmonella than having your face, Dicksel!"

Laura growled and swiped a long nailed hand at Diesel's face. She might be small, but she was damn good at taking someone's eyes out.

The diesel cocked a sleazy eyebrow and continued on his way. "Good luck explaining this tonight!"

Duck's stomach dropped. Laura gasped. "You don't think he's going to..."

================================================

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING, DUCK?!" Gordon screamed.

James stood behind him, hands on hips, trying to look as stern as his Gresley friend. Given he was wearing red lipstick, he was failing spectacularly. Duck faced them both stubbornly, taking the heat as best he could. The others of Tidmouth Sheds were staying well back, not sure what to do.

"This is horrible! Awful! Undignified!" The massive blue engine ranted. "A mermaid?!"

"You know Laura," Duck replied coldly. "She's not some kind of sea witch. She's the sweetest being alive."

"That may be so, but it doesn't change the facts! Duck, you're not only breaking our rules as engines, but you're practically breaking supernatural law! It's disgraceful!"

"Disgusting!" James chimed in.

The air was silent for a few moments as everyone else waited for the trifecta to be completed. Gordon glanced to his left, where Henry was watering his plants by the window.

"Henry."

"What?"

"Your line. You missed your line."

"Oh I know," the green engine replied smoothly. "I'm not saying it."

Gordon's well-trimmed eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

Henry sighed. "Theodore, Ana, I'll come back to you two," he whispered to his plants. Then he turned to Gordon. Thomas and Percy chuckled. This was gonna get messy.

"I said, I'm not saying it. I don't agree, Gordon."

"Henry, Duck is breaking our rules! Engines don't date non-engines!"

"So, by that logic, Percy and Harold shouldn't be together?"

"I- that isn't what I mean! I mean that-"

"What? Duck shouldn't date the girl he loves? Cause that sounds messed up to me."

"He's disrespecting the law!"

"Even when the law is disrespectful?"

That shut Gordon up.

"This is idiotic. As long as Duck and Laura love and are good to each other, there is no reason they should not be together. If it were a worry of breeding, well, guess what? That's not happening. So why is it an unspoken rule? Because it's different? Sorry, but I don't think that has anything to do with whether or not it's right or wrong."

With that, Henry motioned to Duck and jutted his thumb to the door. Shocked, he followed the much taller engine, leaving Gordon, James, and the others standing there, unsure of what to do.

================================================

DEAR GOD THIS IS SHIT XD

[startanewdream]

#15 from kissing prompts please😂😂😂 with sirius interupting them?

Hello! This prompt fit so well with Shirtless (Braless?) Lily June, that I just had to write it, so thank you so much for providing me the inspiration.

And because #15 was rather steamy, this is rated M ;)

‘You are gonna be the death of me, Evans,’ declares James, voice heavy and strangled, all of his attention occupied with kissing her neck, his hands sliding over the curve of her waist unable to decide where to focus.

Lily lets out a snort, amused (unlike him, her hands are purposefully feeling his chest under the opened buttons of his shirt, because Lily knows exactly what she wants).

‘Am I back to Evans, now?’

James could answer, something about how he only slips into her last name when he isn’t thinking clearly because he very much enjoys calling her Lily, but words are overrated. And he has much better use for his mouth, now busy with finding that particular spot under her ear that always makes her let out a soft moan.

Two weeks. They’ve been dating for a fortnight and James already knows one particular spot in Lily Evans and, by Merlin, he wants to know so many more; there are so many things he wants to share with her.

Like that night, for instance. Slug’s Club traditional Christmas party. It’s an event, and it's a big one as far as James is concerned; it’s their first formal date for all purposes, and he was intent on doing everything right, being the perfect boyfriend.

Things had been according to his plan — he’d given her flowers to celebrate it, nice winter flowers of the colour of her outfit (which he had goaded Mary into telling him); he’d trained dancing to waltz with her (Sirius had helped him as his best friend, under the chuckles of their friends); he had even managed to comb his hair so it looked moderately tamed for once.

Then everything had gone south the moment Lily had taken off her cloak when they reached Slug’s office, to reveal a sparkling blue dress that matched less the cold night and more of James’ dreams of her.

It was not that it wasn’t obvious that James was quite attracted to her; it wasn’t like it was a secret that he found her beautiful, and particularly tonight with the careful make-up on her face, that strawberry red on her lips and the smokey effect around her eyes that made the green glint dangerously.

But his attraction for her became corporeally obvious the moment she revealed her dress, a light blue, sleeveless satin dress with a v-neck, that hung loosely above the waist and clung to her hips.

He should be able to drift his eyes from her cleavage, he should ignore the swell of her breasts that the dress made sure to highlight, if not for the fact that when his gaze met hers, Lily was smirking.

Not any smirk.

That I-know-I-am-driving-you-crazy smile that James himself had used on her before they began dating.

He can respect her for choosing carefully the moment to make him prove his own poison. Merlin, he loves her for that.

A better man might resist, might pull off a fight for his pride and refuse to let her tempt him so easily, but James was never proud when it came to Lily. So he endured all the party, still relenting in the idea of being the perfect date, and the moment dessert started being served, James figured it was enough.

Lily didn’t bat an eye when he asked her if they could go back. That smirk had not left her face all party, and she didn’t even look surprised when at the moment the portrait closed behind them in the Common Room, James pushed her against the wall, his lips crashing over hers with a desperation that suggested he hadn’t seen her in weeks.

Not in those clothes, that he hadn’t seen her ever, but it’s a sight he can get used to as far as he knows.

They are alone in the Common Room, only the embers of the fireplace illuminating the room, with no expectation of anyone coming to find them. So it’s easy, embarrassingly easy, for his hand to slide the strap of her dress until the middle of her arm, only her breast holding it in place.

His lips are still over her neck, now arched to give him the best access she can, and his gaze falls to her cleavage that the dress reveals so nicely. She’s not wearing any bra and somehow this realization — though he should already know it — presses more his desire for her. He let his mouth follow the trail of the freckles she has on the shoulder until he’s kissing the top of her breast. She shudders but does not reprimand him.

He places small kisses over any exposed flesh he has access to, then he raises his hand on her waist, just enough to hold her under her breast. His thumb moves carefully, feeling the swell of her breast, and her sharp intake of breath makes him pause.

His eyes meet hers when he raises his head.

‘James,’ she calls him, breathless; her green eyes are a black pool as she stares at him, unblinking. ‘Don’t stop.’

It seems both a request and an order, but whatever it is, James will fulfill it. His hand moves away from her breast enough to finish sliding the dress strap off her arms, and then the sight of her left breast greets him, the nipple hard, up and down with her heavy breathing.

Merlin, he could stare at it forever.

But it would not be enough, so he lets his hand touch it again, feeling it, thumb over her nipple in a way that makes her moan (particular spot number two, he thinks, recording it dutifully), and then his lips replace his thumb. Her hands react immediately, burying themselves in his hair, messing it in a much more spectacular way than James could do it, and giving him a very clear instruction.

She doesn’t want him to move away.

Which suits him just fine, because he feels he won’t ever want to move away either, not with the sounds that escape from her lips as he slides his tongue over her breast, desperate to kiss everything, to taste the flavour of her skin, to immerge into the scent of her body.

A hand searches her other breast, over her dress, urging him to find some balance after all, and the other hand holds her back, dangerously close to her bum, and by Merlin he doesn’t want to stop. He frees both of his hands, trying to lift her dress, but the skirt is too tight.

‘James,’ she calls him once more, his name feeling eternal on her lips, a siren call he can’t refuse. He stops kissing her just enough to lookat her. ‘We can go upstairs.’

That made him hesitate, not because he is unsure, but because he wants it very much; his body is making it obvious how much, and by the way Lily rocks her hips carefully against the front of his body, she knows it too. He takes in her figure, lips swollen from the precious minutes they spent kissing each other, face pinkened with the heat of their movements, and then her dress, strapless on one side to reveal her breast, so tantalizing.

And still…

‘Are you sure?’

‘We don’t —’ she pauses, a flush heavier than before arising in her cheeks. ‘We can just —’

‘We’ll see,’ he agrees, his mouth covering hers while his hand helps her put the dress strap back in place.

Then she holds his hand and follows him upstairs, pausing only to take down her heels so she can walk quietly. The door of his dorm room opens without any sound; the entire room is silent, all curtains down in the beds, and James was never more grateful for this fact.

He guides Lily to his bed, careful to push the curtains around them, letting only a tiny gap for the moonlight to illuminate the bed; it’s not a full moon but it’s more than enough for him to see Lily’s face and that’s all he wants. She looks both defiant and nervous.

She lays in the bed, her gorgeous hair now out of the braid she had used for the party, all curls spreading out over his pillow. It’s a gorgeous sight and he lays on top of her, careful to sustain his weight on his arms as he bends down to kiss her again. Her hands work expertly in his shirt, finishing to open the buttons there, her nails sinking into his back. He muffles his moan into her mouth.

Now his hands can work into both of the straps of her dress, sliding them out of their arms so she is laying in the bed naked from above the waist; he feels her breasts touching his chest and this notion (Lily is his bed half-naked) sends a wave of pleasure and desire down his body, inhumanly stronger than before. He breaks their kiss desperate to feel again the taste of her skin, to let his tongue glide against her nipple, to hear the pure purr in her throat.

‘Lily,’ he moans, and she stops him, so close to her breast, that it’s almost painful.

‘Shhh,’ she remembers, a finger over his lips in warning; he answers by kissing her finger, then her wrist, raising her hand above her head. She offers him her other arm, allowing him to trap them together as he moves his free hand over her chest. Her heart is beating so fast that he can see the vein of her neck pulsing. ‘Please,’ she mouths.

He complies at once, lips covering her breast, enjoying how she arches her back as if she needs to be even more close to him. That’s a feeling he certainly shares, moving his body just enough to centre with hers, a soft groan escaping from his mouth as her hips move to match his movement.

And then he needs to stop kissing her at all, biting his lips with enough force to draw blood, because Lily’s hand are working now over his pant, one hand opening the belt and the other feeling the length of him, the one undeniable evidence of how much he wants her —

‘James?’

Sirius’ voice breaks the silence of the room, sounding louder than a bell, a call to reality in a dream James really doesn’t want to wake from at the moment.

Lily’s hands stop suddenly, still around him, her eyes open widely as they stare at each other, both wishing that Sirius was just dreaming (and James won’t even tease Padfoot for calling his name in his sleep).

‘I know you are there,’ Sirius says, voice dangerously close. ‘I heard you coming.’

No, you didn’t, James thinks.

‘Is everything okay? You came back early.’

James forces his voice out. ‘Everything’s fine, Padfoot, go back to sleep.’

‘Are you sure? Is everything all right between you and Lily?’

In another moment James would appreciate Sirius’ concern for his relationship — that he roots for more than anyone else, he knows. But now, as her hands leave his body to redress herself, embarrassment all over her face, James feels only flustered.

‘Yeah, yeah. Just let me rest.’

There is a pause. ‘Fine,’ Sirius says, evidently upset, walking back to his bed. ‘Forget that I asked.’

Now James sighs guiltily, and Lily throws him a sympathetic look. James moves, coming to rest at her side, their moment painfully broken.

‘Sorry,’ he whispers, as low as he can.

She turns to him, her hand supporting her head. ‘It’s fine. We shouldn’t really…’

He refrains from sighing unhappily. He knows Lily is right. They’ve been only dating for two weeks after all, and there is no rush for anything. They can enjoy just each other’s company, taking this slow — Merlin, he’s so stupid for not being able to control his feelings — no, his lust, so unchivalrous —

‘I mean, your friends are there,’ she adds, oblivious to his thoughts. ‘In the holidays we can find a room just for us.’

He blinks, eyes widening, heart racing desperate in his chest.

‘So you mean —’

‘Only if you want.’

In answer, he looks down, to the place where his body still makes evident how much he wants her. She lets out a giggle, that he muffles kissing her longly.

‘Holidays,’ he agrees later, breaking apart with difficulty. She watches him with fondess before sighing.

‘I should go.’

‘No, stay, please.’ He offers her his arms, which Lily accepts with a soft smile, sinking into his embrace. He caresses her back. ‘Very innocent.’

‘Hmmm. Just a while. Until Sirius sleeps.’

He agrees with his head, placing a kiss on her forehead.

‘I think he’s already sleeping, Lily,’ comes a voice from the other bed.

‘Yeah, he sleeps quick,’ adds Peter.

This time James doesn’t bother muffling Lily’s nervous giggle, joining her. Holidays, he thinks. A room just for the two of them. No noisy friends.

[uravichii]

bnha characters as swifties ~

— you convert them into swifties and there's no going back

characters: bakugo katsuki, todoroki shouto, yaoyorozu momo, jirou kyouka

warnings: swearing (bakugo's part)

notes: i don't know what came over me when i decided to write this,, happy 1 year of folklore ig ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

- bakugo katsuki -

katsuki would only know the name 'taylor swift'

he knows she's some famous celebrity, but he has no idea what she's known for : /

when you first introduce him to her discography, you started with her debut album and 'fearless.'

he didn't like it :') he said it was way too cheesy

katsuki also criticized how inaccurate love story was because romeo and juliet didn't end that way : |

he also despised the "shitty country music" pls never play 'our song' when he's nearby, he'll absolutely destroy whatever it is you're playing it from.

you then introduced him to the most successful album, 1989, hoping he'd at least give it a chance

no, he thought it was "hella annoying" 🙄

"YOU'RE TELLING ME 'ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS STAY' AND 'I WISH YOU WOULD' AREN'T THE SAME FUCKING SONG? FUCK OFF."

but you persevere— you introduced more tracks, explained the lyrics to him, and you forced him to watch the reputation stadium tour on netflix.

he won't admit it openly, but he LOVES reputation.

he loves the new sound, the darker theme, and how edgy and angry it is.

his favorite songs are 'i did something bad' and 'don't blame me'

but he also secretly falls asleep to 'new year's day' 🥺

folklore enraged him in a good way,,

"FUCK JAMES, AUGUSTINE DESERVES BETTER."

and for the album red, "FUCK JAKE GYLLENHAAL, TAYLOR DESERVED BETTER."

this man will make a stan twitter account and demand a punk rock era from tswift because katsuki knows the queen is ✨versatile✨ and she can definitely thrive with a new sound like that 😌

- todoroki shouto -

"taylor swift??? what year and class is she in?"

"shouto— "

you need to present this boy a whole powerpoint presentation,, he badly needs it.

at first, he wouldn't mind the lyrics, he pays more attention to how it sounds.

he likes the mellow ones like 'begin again' 'untouchable' and most tracks from both sister albums, 'folklore' and 'evermore'

for some reason, he loved taylor's country music. those were actually the first songs he added to his playlist.

"it's a bop." he says this with a straight face and a monotonous voice 😐

then, you urged him to read and take in the lyrics, and shouto LOVED her as an artist a lot more.

he definitely cried to 'never grow up' :(((( he can't listen to it again though because he's afraid the song will lose its meaning if it was played too much.

he also appreciates 'seven' a lot. 'tolerate it' and 'soon you'll get better' reminded him of his mother :((

also, he always plays 'mad woman' when endeavor's nearby 💀

he turns up the volume when taylor sings, "does she smile... or does she mouth "fuck you forever. ~ "

he'd definitely buy a lot of merch from taylor, and he was very dismayed when the cardigans sold out before he got to buy one :(

he is very excited for red (taylor's version) and even marked november 19th on his calendar >:)

- yaoyorozu momo -

momo listened to taylor swift a lot when she was younger. she loved singing along to the album, 'fearless'

but she eventually phased out from her songs, not for any particular reason though.

she knows the famous singles like 'shake it off' and 'blank space' and she's mostly neutral about it.

so you force her back into the fandom by having her listen to her whole discography >:)

momo LOVES 'folklore' and 'evermore' this woman will break down the lyrics, analyze it, and upload long-ass essays about them.

"the lyrics are just absolutely exquisite! it's amazing how she manages to use a different sound each album and pull it of :)) you have my deepest gratitude, y/n for having me listen to such a beautiful masterpiece!"

she'll never stop gushing over the jamez-betty-augustine drama. she'll definitely be empathetic towards each one, but she does love augustine the most 😔

she understands james too though and loves 'this is me trying' :') she's not sure if she likes the song 'betty' tho 😧

you'd get under a blanket with momo and cry to 'champagne problems' and 'tolerate it' for fun.

"such a heartbreaking story..." she sniffles into a napkin.

momo was also inspired to write poems because of the two sister albums.

i don't think she'd be interested in taylor's dating life, but she does think it's amazing how you're able to witness the artist's growth by just listening to the songs she writes over the years :))

- jirou kyouka -

"of course i know taylor swift..." she looks to the side sheepishly. "i don't really like her."

"😦"

kyouka unfortunately thinks taylor swift is overrated </3

you can't really blame her though because apparently, she only knew her singles 😃 specifically, 'we are never going back together,' 'blank space, 'shake it off,' and 'ME!'

she says they're catchy but she doesn't really understand the hype.

so you make her understand >:)

you start with lover which later became her favorite album along with reputation and red.

she looves 'cruel summer' and she's angry that it wasn't a single in the album, she also loves the song, 'lover' she won't admit it but she thinks it's incredibly sweet and it makes her want to have a lovelife like taylor's.

she also loves 'the man' and she also sings the bridge of 'death by a thousand cuts' EVERYDAY.

kyouka will also make her own covers of taylor's older songs,, she'll make a cover of 'sparks fly' that sounds edgier. it sounds amazing 😌

she'll lie on her bed, and probably cry to 'superstar' thinking how sweet it would be if someone wrote a song about her like that :((

folklore and evermore aren't her favorites, but she adores the writing so much that it influenced hers.

kyouka will write a song for you out of gratitude for making her listen to the queen, miss swift 😌

[siriusmydeer]

🌗congrats on 800 followers!! could I have a blurb -angst prompt 24 please?

her maroon lipstick

sirius black x fem!reader

summary: sirius looked at everyone but you

word count: 1.1k

warnings: cheating, hinted wolfstar, blackinnon bc that deserves a warning, unrequited love, kissing, swearing, mentions of drugs and alcohol, angst, self doubt, insecurity, mentions of sex

a/n: if u couldnt tell inwas feeling mean today and isa told me to break her heart so: *que jazz hands*

you loved sirius black— maybe even adored the boy, but you knew you probably loved him a little bit too much. he loved you as well, he at-least told you he loved you, and you didn’t want to presume he was a liar. he had always looked at you, your looks, your body, your face but he never had truly seen you; your soul, your essence, you’re entire being.

he was always gazing at someone else entirely, you didn’t wanna know it, or see it, but you did. it didn’t matter who he was looking at but it definitely wasn’t you. wether it was his lycanthrope of a bestfriend, or the local gryffindor beater marlene fucking mckinnon, they weren’t you.

throughly the same frequent sentences were pushed into the back of your mind with the same coherent words, ‘it’s fine, they’re just hanging out.’ or ‘it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.’ but those were simply just your excuses for him.

that night before a quidditch game you had been blown off, yet a-fucking-gain. you truly weren’t surprised, you expected his neglect. but the feeling of dejection truly lingered through every nerve in your bloodstream. you weren’t the number one in his life; you were a backup, a second option, or your personal least favourite.... just not enough.

because marlene, was more important. he had to go study with her— i mean since when does sirius fucking study? he simply doesn’t, he doesn’t study, and he doesn’t fucking care. but still reminding yourself, ‘it’s fine, they’re just going over stuff.’ i mean even james and peter had perceived something you were unaware of.

a day later, a gryffindor win— against slytherins of course, a significant calling for celebration. unconcerned you threw on a simple outfit, nothing too fancy, school was overrated as it is and a mini-league quidditch game certainly didn’t deserve a special outfit no matter how many times your friends detested to your statements. as soon as the game had ended, the raven-haired males eyes didn’t search for you rather a tall brunette with pearly white teeth and dark maroon lipstick.

sirius of course had his troublesome past, you knew of his family, and his sexual-run arounds that went to hogwarts. it wasn’t a shock to you, you had just denied yourself to be one of his easy people. but to your pure-promised heart, you didn’t just become one of them you became the one. not to love, but simply to fuck.

you were just company when nobody else could be, and even though you swore not too; you let yourself because you fell for him, or maybe it was his mask of flirty gestures and lingering kisses.

you made your way to the gryffindor tower, the hallways dead silent to the point where you could hear the drop of a pin or the swish of someone’s hair. the seventh years succeeding in performing a muffling charm that barred any supervisor from suspicion of a party.

as soon as the portrait whole swung at your mumble of the password you were met with immense clamour and uproar from all the celebrating students. the potent smell of marijuana and fire whisky hitting your nose, immediately scowling at the first whiff of the aroma.

couples had been scattered and sprawled across the deep-vermillion coloured couches. all noise drowned out by the deafening amount of rock music, picked by sirius no doubt.

you knew in the nook and crannies of your mind you should’ve scrabbled this together, it should of been suspected, or rather even bound to occur. but nobody should ever expect to see their boyfriend drunkenly making out with another woman, ever.

you didn’t want to cry, or look weak, i mean you felt ashamed. we’re you not good enough? we’re you had to him? did you not check up on him enough? but maybe it wasn’t on you— maybe it was on him.

maybe he was the one who fucked up— he didn’t treat you good enough. he didn’t spend enough time with you. all in that moment you felt— was the burning bitch of an emotion, rage. pure and simple rage.

you felt the thump and click in your feet as you belligerently marched over to the kissing bunch, his arms taking a harsh grip at her waist and the aroma of alcohol abundantly clear as you got closer.

you jabbed a few times on his shoulder, the rustled leather familiar underneath the pad of your pointer finger. the boy pulled away with a drunken-grimace, prepared to shout at anyone who had interrupted him until he saw it; your face filled with abundant anger.

oh shit— you had caught him right in the act.

“y/n, listen—“ the boy started before your eyebrows had creased in immense frustration and anger of his foolish excuses. choosing to ultimately speak first and think later.

“no, you listen sirius! you’ve treated me like absolute shit, like i’m the last fucking option in your palm— like i’m not your girlfriend that you have confided in, and kissed, and fucking slept with! i really don’t know who you think you are, but you can’t walk around acting like you own the place when you can’t get one damn thought straight. so you can’t come to me as a last option anymore, you can go stick your player bullshit right your own damn arse!” your voice was heaving in such anger of him, finally opting to pick yourself— not to be a second choice, not anymore.

after your monologue built over months and months of culpability for feeling like you couldn’t never be enough for him, and irritability that he had never truly cared was full forced in one speech cutting him off for good.

you quickly spun around the mahogany floor, striding directly out of the red and gold common room; you heard the quick pad of footsteps behind you whilst walking in the hallway, swivelling around again seeing your befuddled and tipsy ex-boyfriend try and catch up with your exasperated steps.

a deep shade of maroon smudged down the curvature of his lips and the planes of his olive-toned chin, yeah, fuck you sirius.

“now what the absolute fuck do you want now?” you whisper-shouted in the midst of the hallway, trying not to alert the attention of filch or professor mcgonagall.

“i love you, y/n, please—“ the boy attempted to plead in the midst of his sentence and deeply failing whilst slurring his words, the alcohol abstinently pining through his nervous system showcasing his bleary vision through his viewpoint; venturing for your forgiveness, but your decision had been made the moment he was caught locking lips with the gryffindor beater.

“tell me that when you’re sober.”

taglist: @famdomhideout @hufflepogue @dear-luna @luvvninaz @miraclesoflove @black-like-my-soul @fific7 @wisedreamcatcher @kittykylax @ronbrokemyheart @aspiringsloth20 @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @msmb @fangouria @five-cups-of-coffee @dracofknmalfoy @emmaev @serenitywilderness

[sokkastyles]

Zutara Month Day 10: Oma and Shu

I’ve seen some people point out that Zutara doesn’t necessarily fit Oma and Shu because the Oma and Shu myth is more Romeo and Juliet than enemies to lovers, and those people are not necessarily wrong. Romeo and Juliet, just like Oma and Shu, were never themselves enemies. They did nothing but love each other, but were forbidden from being together because of the feud. Zutara, in most interpretations, is less a “forbidden” romance and more a transition from enemies to friends to lovers. Most people imagine them growing to love each other after becoming friends, often after Zuko’s redemption and the end of the war. Nonetheless, the Oma and Shu story does share several parallels with Zutara that many fans have picked up on. What I want to do is examine some of these parallels from a meta angle, to look at the Oma and Shu story as it appears in the series and other similar stories that appear in ATLA, and to also compare them to similar stories in the real world, and analyze a bit the popularity of these various tales of forbidden love, why they are popular, and what their purpose is, as well as how Zutara fits into all this.

In universe, the Oma and Shu story, in addition to being a love story, is also an origin myth of sorts for the Earth Kingdom. It explains the creation of the city of Omashu, as well as telling the story of some of the first humans to learn earthbending. The message of the story, in addition to being a tale about love thriving between two unlikely people, and a cautionary tale about what happens when love is prevented from flourishing, is also a message about love being an act of creation and a force of transformation.

Love is brightest in the dark.

This sentence is a paradox, but it fits with the theme of balance that the show comes back to again and again, of breaking down barriers and deconstructing dichotomies to create something new, something more whole than the original. Something mirroring the harmony of yin and yang.

The greatest illusion of this world is the illusion of separation. Things you think are separate and different are actually one and the same. We are all one people, but we live as if divided.

The above quote by Guru Pathik is also similar to Iroh’s philosophy, which he tries to teach Zuko.

It is important to draw wisdom from many different places. If you take it from only one place, it becomes rigid and stale. Understanding others, the other elements, and the other nations will help you become whole.

Iroh also says something in “The Crossroads of Destiny” that echoes the Oma and Shu story.

Iroh: Perfection and power are overrated. I think you were very wise to choose happiness and love.

Aang: What happens if we can't save anyone and beat Azula? Without the Avatar State, what if I'm not powerful enough?

Iroh: I don't know the answer. Sometimes, life is like this dark tunnel. You can't always see the light at the end of the tunnel, but if you just keep moving, [Aang earthbends the rocks away one last time. Iroh's fire blows out. He smiles.] you will come to a better place.

Iroh says that Aang is wise to choose love over power, while walking through a dark tunnel, and advises Aang to trust in the darkness to bring him to the light. Meanwhile, Zuko and Katara, two people on opposite sides of a war, share a moment of unlikely tenderness in a cave lit by glowing crystals.

Zuko in the crystal catacombs does what Iroh has been trying to teach him to do, to let go of pride and the need for power, and to instead embrace compassion and humility. Which is what he does when he apologizes to Katara. This is also part of what stories like Romeo and Juliet teach us, that pride and petty grievances are destructive, and that only by embracing love do we become whole.

I know the prompt is Oma and Shu, but thinking about that story and its place in the narrative made me think about other mythic stories that appear in the series, so let’s look at another one that has significance for zutara: Love Amongst the Dragons, Ursa’s favorite play that she took young Zuko and Azula to see every year.

The actual story of Love Amongst the Dragons, according to the ATLA wiki, is this:

The play features the Dragon Emperor, bound to mortal form by the Dark Water Spirit, and forced to adopt the alias of Noren. The humble experience results in Noren falling in love with a mortal, and through this love he is able to break free of his curse. The play concludes with Noren defeating the Dark Water Spirit and embracing his mortal girlfriend, revealed to be the Dragon Empress.

What struck me when I found this description was that this is, with some slight changes, pretty much the Chinese myth of the marriage between Dragon and Phoenix, a representation for yin and yang and harmony in marriage, and which I compared in a meta to zutara as well.

Like the Oma and Shu story, it is a story about unlikely love, and about crossing divisions. It also has a lot of similarities with various myths involving shapeshifting love-interests, often referred to as “animal bride/husband” myths (which beauty and the beast is a subset of).

The symbolism of the tale in-universe is in its connection to Ursa, and thus Zuko’s connection to his mother. Zuko’s connection to his mother is contrasted with his connection to his father, which is representative of Zuko’s destructive side. When Zuko was trying to capture the Avatar, he was searching for his father’s approval, to become someone that would earn his father’s love. Ursa, meanwhile, taught Zuko kindness and compassion, and told him that it didn’t matter that he wasn’t the most powerful or strong. That Ursa took Zuko to see this particular play is significant, a play about a godlike being, the Dragon Emperor, being humbled and learning to love.

Only with your glory hidden in false form could you recognize my devotion.

Though different, and originating in a different nation, this is another tale about love shining through the dark, about letting go of pride and choosing compassion. Animal bride/husband myths are often about seeing past what is hidden to see the truth. They are stories of transformation, and like the Oma and Shu story, are about the transformative power of love.

It’s also from this play that Zuko gets his Blue Spirit alter ego, which Zuko uses as an exploration of his own identity apart from being the Fire Nation prince. In this story the same mask is worn by the villainous Dark Water Spirit. It is very interesting that Zuko uses an identity associated with water for this purpose. Also, like the Blue Spirit, the Dark Water Spirit seems to be a bit on the morally ambiguous side. Even though the spirit is defeated at the end of the story, its motivation for transforming the Dragon Emperor seems to be to teach him humility, and this is a message the play seems to promote.

Zuko and Azula’s dialogue from the above comic pages is interesting because it expands on what we already know about both characters. Zuko complains about always having to play the villain, just as he was made a scapegoat by his father and sister, and his adapting of the Blue Spirit identity is essentially him reclaiming that identity that was forced on him while trying to figure out who he really is. Azula sees herself as the Dragon Emperor, but she misunderstands the message of the story completely, and it’s not a coincidence that she talks over the love scene in the comic above and responds angrily and pridefully to the man who tries to shush her. Similar to Ozai when he names himself the Phoenix King, ironically misinterpreting the actual myth. I also think there’s something interesting to say about gender here, as this post points out. Not only does Ozai associate himself with a female figure, but Azula associates herself with the male Dragon Emperor, while Zuko is associated with the more feminine water spirit (water being a feminine element.) However, by the end of the series, Zuko embodies the transformed Dragon Emperor, while Katara I associated before with the Phoenix/Dragon Empress, as she is associated with healing and rebirth. Also notice the red and blue color coding in the comic page above, both with the Water Spirit and Dragon Emperor and in the coloring of the two lovers.

This also brings me to another play present in the series, the play that the gaang goes to see performed by the Ember Island Players. The same players that Zuko says his mother took him to see. The play we see them put on in the series is a Fire Nation propaganda play, promoting Ozai and the war. I actually can’t imagine that Love Amongst the Dragons, a play about a Dragon Emperor learning humility, was very popular during Ozai’s reign. We hear about it being performed before Ozai became Fire Lord, but we can assume that those visits to the theatre stopped after Ursa’s disappearance. The only other time we hear about that particular play being performed is after the end of the war. This leads me to imagine that it was necessary for the Ember Island Players to find a different play to perform while Ozai was in charge. While the play is not necessarily subverting Fire Nation superiority (the villain is a water spirit, after all), it is confrontational enough that I can imagine Ozai’s brand of narcissism seeing it as a challenge to his authority. Ozai who disdained love in favor of power and control.

“The Boy in the Iceberg” contains another love story between two people from opposite sides in their depiction of Zuko and Katara in the crystal catacombs. I wrote before about how I’ve seen interpretations of this that say that the Fire Nation was trying to portray zutara as an “inferior” Water Tribe woman falling for a “superior” Fire Nation man - essentially saying that the play is in favor of zutara as a piece of Fire Nation pro-colonization propaganda - but the problem with this is that that isn’t how zutara is depicted in the play. The play mocks zutara by portraying Zuko as submissive and subservient to Aang, and Zuko is later killed, as he is currently a traitor and threat to the Fire Nation. Thus, the “romance” between Zuko and Katara is not being depicted as supporting the superior masculinity of Fire Nation men, but rather portraying Zuko, who willingly chose to dissasociate himself with the Fire Nation, as emasculated and submissive to other, “lesser” men and aggressive “foreign” women.

This is a complete mockery of the real connection that Zuko and Katara had in the catacombs, the kind of love that is inherently subversive because it requires Zuko humbling himself in front of Katara and admitting that he was wrong, and working for her forgiveness. It is the kind of love that the Fire Nation under Ozai’s rule rejects. The kind of love that is truly transformative, revelatory, and brings light to the darkness. The kind of love that creates rather than destroys, that unifies rather than divides. That is humble and not prideful. That’s the appeal of zutara.

[bokettochild]

Talking is Overrated

Whumptober Day 2: Choking

No apologies. Someone posted about this the other day and I figured we deserved to see it for ourselves!

Legend POV, but don't worry guys, this is Warriors Whump!

(Do not call the Protection Squad on me, I have a permit)

Wind was tugging the captain’s scarf again.

It wasn’t an unusual sight to see really, many of the younger heroes did such things while they traveled, or when they made camp. It was an effective way of getting the captain’s attention, Legend would give it that. Even Time did it, and not even with the hesitant caution that most of the others did, their Old Man just reached over and tugged (Legend could swear there was a glint in the man's eye whenever he did it too). Of course, Time was the only one of the older ones who did it, and while Legend just barely counted with the other ‘adult’ heroes, he wasn’t among those who’d tug the blue fabric gently.

Step on it on occasion, yes, but tugging to get the man’s attention? Heck no! He wasn’t a child!

Wind tugged again. Wind was a kid. It was fine for him to do it, and Legend pointedly ignored the warmth in his chest at the sight of the sailor’s bright grin as it was directed at the captain. Ringed fingers rubbed over the affected area as he trailed along near the back of their group with Hyrule, earning a curious glance but otherwise remaining un-noticed as the captain turned his attentions to the young sailor.

“What’s up, Tu- Wind?” ‘Tune’, they called him, Ravio and the captain both. He’d asked once, but neither had explained much more than it being from ‘the war’.

“I think Sky is tiring out, could we-” The sailor’s face twisted up into a frown and he shook himself, rephrasing his question from whatever it had been. “Could you ask Time if we could stop? He’s more likely to listen to you.” Because Time always listened to Warriors. Okay, well, he paid attention. The old Man ignored what was said altogether sometimes, but he never dismissed it right off. He did the same with Twilight, but somehow it felt more mature when the mentor and protégé were the one’s involved.

The captain nodded, lengthening his already freakishly long stride to match that of Time, Wind trailing behind and still attached to the scarf. “Time, mind if we break a minute? Sky’s having trouble breathing again.”

The Skyloftain in question offered a weak smile when the others turned to him, and Legend ignored the clenching in his chest at the heavy cough that erupted from the older hero. “Dust.” Sky explained apologetically.

“It does seem to be mid-summer in this world.” Twilight agreed with an encouraging look at he offered the Chosen Hero his canteen. “What do you say, Time? Day’s still young, think a break will hurt our travel time?”

Well, that was just dumb. They didn’t even know where they were, much less where they were going. There was no deadline and no goal here, stopping to let Sky rest would be perfectly manageable. He sent their leader a look saying as much, and Time met his gaze with a nod, turning to his protégé and Sky both with an easy smile. “I don’t see how that would hurt. Sky, can you make the next hill or should we stop now?”

“Now.” Came the apologetic wheeze. “I don’t think I could handle any kind of-” Another cough cut him off as Twilight gently thumped the other's back (well, gently for Twilight; Sky was strong and could take it, but had that been him he’d be face down in the dirt). “Climbing is bad.” Sky finally pushed out, rubbing at his throat and grimacing.

“Right then.” The boundry was set, Sky was done, so they needed to rest. “Let’s settle here for an hour or so.” Time slung his own pack to the ground and stretched his shoulders with a grimace. “It’s getting into the hotter part of the day anyway, so we might as well save ourselves some sweat for the time being. Keep alert though, boys, we still don’t know where we are.”

The others nodded, but Twilight made as if to respond, only to be cut off by a firm look from his mentor. “No, Twilight, no scouting. Your ankles are still a mess from that accident last week and I’m not having you wander off alone again.”

“Pops, I’m fine-”

“Watch Hyrule.” Time commanded, soft but stern as he nodded to the traveler.

Well excuse him! Legend was doing a fine job of watching his own protégé, thank you very much! He didn’t need the overgrown wolf-puppy helping him out. Of course, he huffed to himself as Twilight wandered over, looking a bit lost and very restless, it wasn’t as though Twilight had another way to channel his nervous energy, and maybe letting someone else hold the kid while he changed the bandages on Hyrule’s hands would make things easier.

He’d only just removed the bandages and washed the burns before he caught wind of it, long ears flickering tentatively at the new sound that cut through the air.

Horses.

The shriek of a wild pony caught the attention of all present, whether they even knew what it was they were hearing or not, and Twilight was already bundling Hyrule into his arms and ducking into the brush at the sound, leaving him frozen in place, muscles coiled and bandages still in hand as his ears flicked to and fro to find the source of the sound.

A herd of wild ponies, bobolinks mounted on their backs with spears in hand, crested the nearby hill, spilling down and around it in a wild and aimless charge until their riders caught sight of the heroes. The sound of a horn was the warning for them to gather their weapons, and seven out of their nine were ready for battle in an instant as Twilight hunkered down with the still injured Hyrule. The kid’s eyes were wide as he curled tight in Twilight’s arms, the both of them trying to hide behind one of the groups spare shields that Twilight had grabbed.

Legend really hoped that wasn’t one of Wild’s.

The horses were on them in an instant, hooves and teeth and jabbing spears making them all dash and dart out of rang, weapons drawn and ready to be used. It made his chest clench and something inside feel like it was tearing when he had to swing his blade against the terror-filled ponies, their eyes rolling wildly as they bucked and sprang, trying both to dismount their monstrous riders and to escape the noise of the battle. The poor things didn’t deserve this, but it wasn’t as if many of them had a choice when it came to downing the horses or letting them continue to trample over the top of them.

Silver and gold flashed as black and red blood both had spilled over the hill side that had been so peacefully serene only minutes before. In the corner of his vision, blue fluttered and waves in the battle, likely Warriors’ Din darned scarf as the captain danced over the field.

The pony before him reared on its hind legs, hooves pawing at the air and froth gathering at its jaws as the bokoblin on its back continued to kick and shriek, only further adding the beast's terror.

Malanya forgive him, he’d clenched his jaw tight and pushed back his feelings as he thrust his sword into the beast's chest, rolling away as the four-hundred pounds of horse fell to the ground, crushing it’s rider beneath it and giving him ample time to slice of the ‘blin’s head off before turn to face the rest of the field. Many of the other horses had either dislodged their riders or otherwise had them shot down by Wild’s swift arrows, and the poor beasts were running free down the path, kicking up more dust than the nine of them had earlier in their flight from the battle field. A few more lay dead on the earth, ‘blins and weapons lying around about them and making the battle all the more difficult with the increased tripping hazard that they caused.

There were still four ponies in their midst though, and more bokoblins besides, and Legend pushed himself forwards to where Four was fighting alone against a few of them, determined to finish this bloody fight already so he could get back to tending his protégé's crispy fingers.

He didn’t know what it was that made him look up, not when he was supposed to be helping Four, not when the enemy was still fighting strongly against them, but he did, and when he did all of the breath stuttered from his lungs with a strangled gasp.

Across the field, a bokoblin had managed to snag the captain’s fluttering blue scarf, holding it tight as the monster’s pony bucked and shrieked, tugging the fabric tight around the hero’s neck as Warriors clawed at the straining fabric.

The captain’s sword had since fallen, to where he couldn’t tell, but with every pull and tug of the scarf, every prance and shift of the pony’s feet, the fabric drew tighter and tighter, and Warriors’ face grew redder and redder.

“Warriors!” Wind shout from across the field startled all of them, but it was the final straw for the poor pony, who bolted, her rider still clutching both the poorly cobbled reins and Warriors’ scarf both tightly in hand, effectively knocking the captain down to the dirt and dragging him behind stampeding hooves as Warriors’ fingers fluttered against the fabric, face as blue as the favored garment and eyes glazing over as rocks and weapons clanged against the man’s pauldron.

Legend was kicking his pegasus boots into action before his mind even rightly knew what he was doing, and despite Four’s angry shouts and frankly astounding insults (really, and they called his mouth dirty!) he’d sped off after the horse, rider, and quickly fading captain.

Each step felt like lead was weighing him down as he pushed all of his strength into his legs, pushing forwards and angling himself towards his goal, eyes fixed on the slowly fading light in the captain’s eyes. Just a bit further, a yard, two feet, a foot. He could touch Warriors’ boot now if he wanted, his tunic, the belt at his waist. At long last, he was level with the pony’s thundering hooves, and without a second thought, the Tempered Sword was slashing through blood-stained blue fabric, the captain’s body rolling in the dirt beside him as the veteran hero stuttered to a halt.

The sword clattered to the ground as he’d fallen to his knees at the older man’s side, fingers fumbling at the tangled fabric and tugging ruthlessly to free his friend.

Angry black and purple bruises banded Warriors’ neck, harsh and angry as the tiniest wheeze of breath had escaped the man.

“Wars, hey, stay with me.” His voice quivered when he spoke, no matter how he tried to fight it, but there was no reply.

“Warriors! You darned idiot! Open those stupid baby-blues!” He’d huffed it with more force this time, himself wheezing for breath at the unexpected run as he worked to loosen the captain’s shirt collar more.

What did one do for a strangulation victim? What did one do for the head wounds that leaked blood onto the dirt beath the captain’s golden hair?

The contents of Legend’s stomach churned in revulsion at the sight of the crimson liquid, and he fought back a gag as his hands had fluttered over the unmoving form of the other, unsure, worried, bordering very nearly on panic as he tried to figure out what to do.

Warriors lay unmoving.

The captain couldn’t die though! Not his brother! Not the snarky ass he liked to pick on and- oh heavens... The last thing he’d said to Wars this morning had been an insult, hadn’t it? He’d insulted the scarf, calling the man a ‘bloody idiot’ for wearing it all the time knowing full well how much it meant to his brother. Oh, stars above, he couldn’t let that be the last thing he’d said to the man’s face! He couldn’t-

Blackened fingers settled over his own, resting easily on Warriors’ chest as he’d stared up, vision blurry as it took in brown curls and glimmering golden green eyes. He didn’t know when his vision had blurred so much, didn’t know when Hyrule had even gotten there, but the kid was already pressing golden sparking hands to the bruises around the captain’s neck, humming softly and brokenly as he worked.

Someone shifted behind him, rough hands catching his shoulders and pulling him back and away to let Hyrule work. Legend let himself fall, staring blankly up at the sky and fighting his rolling stomach as midnight blue eyes, full of concern and fear, had stared down at him. A deep voice had said something, warm hands closing around is shoulders as he blinked up.

Oh shit, he’d ruined the captain’s scarf, hadn’t he?