#so u can still get an inkling of how i drew that year

[fluffyartbl0g]

My yearly progress!!! past tumblr posts below ouo. I got kinda lazy this year so i dint do any fancy smancy background, but I am quite pleased with how my rendering has improved :D I think my colour choices have become more dynamic. I hope I figure out how to really properly draw hair in the next couple of years ; w ;

2018 2019 2020 2021 2022

[mushiewrites]

can I just be sappy for a moment about 2022? It was so shitty for a multitude of reasons but you guys made it better ):

firstly everyone that interacts with my posts, i love u and appreciate u so much ): if i didn’t have people interacting, i wouldn’t really have a reason to want to keep writing.

but there are some very cool and lovely people I want to fawn over and just say a few things about 🫠

thank u to:

@an-inkling-of for hyping up my writing and always encouraging me to be mean (hehehe 😈)

@elliot-tword for being one of the first people i remember being so kind and supportive when i first started out writing

@fluffy-fics for making LITERAL BEAUTIFUL ART FROM MY FICS / DRABBLES???????? still so honored tbh 🥺💕

@sleepy--anon + @azuregiggles + @starshinenova for providing the best hc’s i’ve ever seen and allowing me to run wild with them 👀

@amitlee for being my enemy, one of my favorite people to bully/be bullied by, and also one of the best people i’ve gotten to meet on this hell site 🔥

I have a million more people I could thank, so if you weren’t mentioned, just know I love u and appreciate you. I want to tag you all 🥺

I hope every has an incredible 2023, it’s gonna be great I can feel it ✨

(okay i’m putting the longer ones under here…..this is going to be SAPPY sappy - this is your warning)

@cayjno - my baby jworm ): i don’t even know what to write for you. i went from freaking out in the best way over your fics to getting to be so close with you and i am still confused as to how????? i have no idea why but i was so nervy to speak with you bc u were just so COOL to me and i was scawwed. i remember the night we had our first real conversation, i was just so hype that you were as cool as i thought, probably even more so. you are one of the most kindest and sweetest humans i’ve ever met. i am so so thankful to know you and get to be in your life. you make me feel so safe, you never ever throw judgement on me and i am so grateful for that. i don’t ever feel scared telling you things because i know you’re not going to look at me differently for it. you also don’t let me brain run with bad things - you normally tell me straight up how something is if i seem to be going a different direction than what actually is happening in situations where that might normally happen. you are just such a lovely support person. we are so comfortable with each other and i love doing stupid things with you. you are so extremely talented in so many ways (i will never have another wallpaper that isn’t a juno drawing ever again btw). u are absolutely adorable and i adore you and your art and your writing and just skdndjdndjsj i love you ): i can’t wait until we invent teleporting so i can hug you for a million years ): i love u so much mouse 💕

@covenofwives - I literally stayed hyperfixated on The Blame Game for m o n t h s. you are SO UNBELIEVABLY COOL. the first few times we spoke i was so hype because you were so kind! we’ve gotten to be such nice little fwens and i love that for us ): we have our own little bobbi duo! i love when we exchange art and wips, it makes me feel so nice that you allow me to see your creations before they’re finished. you are so insanely talented as well, i’m still so hype that you drew Big Challenges on the beach just enjoying his day. you and your feathers are the cutest things EVER, i can’t wait to keep our cute lil friendship growing! i love and appreciate u and ur kindness always 🥺💕

and last but definitely not least

@awkwardtickleetoo - my lil baby puppy knight. the other half of puppyduo. mr bones. i could list everything we’ve ever called each other here but it would need to be a whole new post tbh. i adore you. you already know this. i remember being nervy to speak to you too, but god am i glad we started bc here we are now, months later and clingy as heck. we are the cutest little besties and i wouldn’t trade our weird little freaky conversations for anything. thank you for always bouncing ideas around with me or reading things if i need to know if things sound okay. i love that we don’t gatekeep, and i love that we bully each other about the embarrassing things we share. i love that we’ve resorted to using mostly pet-names for each other, and i love the ones you give me (all of them are good but you know my favorites 🥺) i love that we don’t EVER judge each other and i don’t ever second guess it when i tell you things that fluster me. you’re always so kind (and mean) in the best way and you are just such a lovely person. you, just like everyone else on this list are so extremely talented. you know i binge your fics and fawn over the shit you say all the time. i am very clearly cal stan #1. i actually could keep going but this would end up being very long and repetitive, but it’s all true. love you, idiot. 💕

[spl-kainkainka]

Kid, Squid, Kid, Squid, Teen, Octo… Adult.

So here’s my personal connection with the series of the game that no one asked for.

I grew up with Splatoon in an odd way. I didn’t have a Wii U when Splatoon 1 released, and I didn’t own a Switch until 2022. Before then, I just entered my teens at the time, and I saw artwork of it on Pixiv. It was like looking into something so… unrepentant. It attracted me. How much fun they were having.

‘Such a colourful world,’ I thought to myself. And it was pretty much unheard of in my sphere of influence at the time! It was rare; microscopic - it felt like it was just for me. One picture in particular stood out to me - an inkling with their special charged, whose flaming head ran the colours of the rainbow. I would immerse myself in their world, looking at how fun it would be to ‘be’ there. I read lore. Scoured the wiki, watched gameplay. Chose to be a Hydra main. Thought the Gas mask was cool, and thought of myself using both at the time, even if I didn’t have the game.

Octo Expansion was released in a couple of years, and I had grown a bit. I was an aversive child at the time, filled with all sorts of teenage which-what and confusing emotions. (I still am a rather ‘picky’ and aversive person with my media and socials, since I find it very hard to get invested and am easily dissuaded from something, but this… this had a hold on me, from the very start.) The conflict of the octolings particularly drew me in, since it fitted with my angsty moodiness at the time. But more importantly, it had the same idea as I did - longing to be in ‘that’ world. And so it kept on brewing and brewing, quietly bubbling away under my skin with no one within reach to talk to.

It was so… wonderful. Like through a looking glass in an aquarium. Full of life and wonder on the other side… and now there was someone I could pin the feeling to. Even if it was separated by a parasocial layer of glass.

Nearly eight years later, I got a Switch Lite. Eager to get Splatoon 3, the first game of the series I’d actually play. As soon as trailers were announced, I could feel myself reaching back to then twelve/thirteen-year-old me, wanting to be a Hydra Splatling main wearing the Gas Mask. Talking to people about the theories and ins and outs of such a world.

I remember booting up the game and being greeted with silent bubbling.

The air was a lot more… different, even as I played it. Still. Like the dust had settled, and everyone had left just as I moved in. All the words had been said, all the theories discussed, every stone turned over and over again. Like it was all common knowledge. I had nothing to say that hadn’t already been said a hundred times without me.

In that moment, it told me that I had grown. Not for better or for worse, but rather a moment where the passage of time had been realised. I had caught up to the series, after eight whole years of admiring it fondly from afar, contained from it until now.

It’s just… thank you, for being one of the few things that have stuck with me this far. Even if it isn’t the same colourful world as I saw then, you couldn’t possibly be the same, as could I. You grew up with me. Even if all of those lore tidbits I learned then are now no more than surface-level knowledge.

I’m grateful for that. What little colour it gave me then, what joy it has given me now, even if my aversiveness still makes me shy away from enjoying things I would probably like.

I’m not becoming jaded. Or at least, I don’t think I am. Just a little wistful of a time that could have been, maybe. But it’s easy to look back and fondly miss those times of wonder. And it’s okay to.

Cassandra was largely born from such a longing. She is somewhat like a daughter to me, in that role. And if I couldn’t make myself happy, I can choose to make her happy.

This isn’t goodbye. Hardly. Just that I have changed, and will continue to change, as it grows distant in the past of my perspective.

Thank you, then. Thank you, now.

[heart-of-tempered-steel]

𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 // {fred weasley x ofc} preview

As soon as his gaze slid down from her slender shoulders to her neatly folded hands, he saw it.

Her hands, he mused, were small and delicate looking and usually when they were at rest when she sits, are folded neatly one atop of the other. Like bird wings.

Now, her hands were anything but resting. They were slightly fluttering.

As if something ruffled their feathers.

Summary: Fred starts to see through the cracks on the mask she wears and realizes that it wasn’t just a mask... but a full suit of armor as well.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Seri Waldren (OFC)

**Additional Note**: Face claim for Seri is Lee Ji Eun as Jang Man Wol

Warnings: Almost none except for a bit of slightly one-sided angst with a hint of enemies to friends to lovers as well as an ofc (but PLEASE give this a chance before scrolling past!!! I really worked so hard to get everything in place here! 🥺)

His eyes are a deep hazel like his twin.

However, Seri thinks to herself, staring at his side profile as he faced the fireplace, the flames casting a warm glow over his features, that in this light at least, they held a hint of mahogany in them. With the way that the light was catching in his eyes, she can see that it brought out the dark red undertone in them. She gives him a once over—steady gaze tracing his features from his hair to his eyes.

Orange.

Red.

Brown.

Like the fallen leaves that drift with the autumn breeze.

And before she thinks better of it, she is pulled into a memory.

Like the forest floor at that time when the sun was setting and its dying rays peeked through the canopy to shade everything a warm copper and bronze—the earthy smell of dirt with a hint of petrichor from last week’s rainfall; laughter echoing through flying swirls of leaves, recently scattered from a pile.

Mug of hot cider, freshly made, warming you up inside and out. Its warmth spreading from your fingertips to your head as its heady aroma of apple and cinnamon wafts up to your nose and fills you.

Pairs of strong yet gentle arms holding you—comforting you. A melody, sweet and tender as the arms you’re held by, drifts into your ears and lulls you with its lullaby.

Soft wool tickling your cheek as you nestle yourself further into the warm embrace, letting the song carry you over into a peaceful slumber. Here, you are content.

You are safe.

You are not alone.

You are loved.

And just like that, she is consumed. The sudden onslaught of the memory hurtling towards her like a tornado of broken glass, pieces of what was once a precious and tender reminiscence, now in shatters. Jagged, sharp edges were simultaneously slashing, ripping, and embedding themselves into her heart; threatening to shred through every soft layer of tissue to raw and bloody scraps.

She nearly recoils from the emotions that was all at once churning and burning her from within, fighting to keep the tempest within her contained. If she does not get a hold of herself…  

She. Will. Fall. Apart.

Seri instantly turns away from Fred and lets her hair fall to the side of her face like a black curtain between them as she attempts to silently reign in her tumultuous emotions.

Her companion hears a barely suppressed, sharp intake of breath and turns his attention to her. He finds her face turned away, seemingly focusing on a spot just off to the side of the fireplace. Or at least he assumes she was staring at a spot. Her long black hair effectively blocking off his view of her face.

Her figure was stock still except for the slow and methodical breaths he can see her quietly forcing herself to take. She still held the same posture on the carpet as when he came by the fireplace to sit next to her. Back straight, legs tidily folded underneath to accommodate for the sleeping gown she was wearing underneath her silk robe, and hands resting on top of her lap.

That was where Fred found the slight difference in the way she was holding herself. As soon as his gaze slid down from her slender shoulders to her neatly folded hands, he saw it. 

Her hands, he mused, were small and delicate looking and usually when they were at rest when she sits, are folded neatly one atop of the other. Like bird wings.

Now, her hands were anything but resting. 

They were slightly fluttering.

As if something ruffled their feathers. 

One hand still lay on top of the other but the other hand beneath was tightly curled into a fist. Its tightened grip causing her hands to faintly tremble. He had an inkling that if the other hand on top was removed, he would see the white knuckles she was making as she dug her manicured nails into the palm of her hand.

It lasted for only a moment and it was gone as soon as he saw it. As if she could feel his gaze on her, she took in a last deep breath and slowly unfurled her hand back to how it was. But it only took that one passing moment for Fred to know... that something was wrong.

“You alright, princess?”, he let out in a soft voice, his tone laced with concern.

She felt it.

Yes, she could tell he was worried over her. And not just because she was a born empath. No. She didn’t need to rely on that part of her to know that. His voice was—so gentle and soothing. Yet, it held such an intriguing blend of both boldness and apprehension to it that it didn’t want to make her pin the person who was asking under a glare of disdain. Usually, with the kind of rumors and reputation that garnered around her, there were mostly only two types of people in her life who would ask about her well-being with feigned compassion: reporters and suitors from highborn pure-blood families like hers.

One wanted to use her to stamp their name on the cover page of every magazine and newspaper.

The other wanted her hand in marriage for her wealth and, out of their archaic and medieval beliefs, to secure the continuation of their family’s pure-blood lineage.             

But both were attracted to her by their uninhibited ambition.

Both wanted a piece of her to claim for themselves.

The empath part of her can sense an oily power-hungry leech like that from a mile away, eyes closed.

Although now, the empath in her was sensing something entirely different from the red head beside her.

There was concern, yes. But there was also sincerity… genuine sincerity for her and—

Oh.

There it was. Buried beneath a bundle of his nervousness and the abrupt need to reach out to her...

Kindness.

It was kindness…

 And no. It wasn’t the pitiful kind of kindness that would be offered to her with condolences every time her parents’ deaths were brought up in every one of her mandatory but rare social outings. This kindness that she was sensing from him was pure and so unrestrained that it took her aback. Maybe even perturbed her a bit.

She was sensing this from the young man. The very same young man, who, along with his twin, would set off pranks to soak up the chaos they ensued. Resulting disruptive inconvenience and bodily harm to others be damned. Unapologetic and destructive, the two laid waste with their antics on and off the school grounds. Fred Weasley, one of the loud, cocky, and rambunctious devil duo pranksters of Hogwarts…

Was sitting next to her worrying about her well-being.

And Morrigan knows, with the kind of tempestuous and vitriolic relationship that they started off with—almost a week after she transferred from Ilvermorny, she’d never thought that he’d show her, let alone be capable to have this side of him. Perhaps, it was a good thing that she was already sitting down because reconciling these two sides of him was leaving her a tad disoriented.

Despite that… she lets herself welcome the feeling. She lowers her defenses a bit, letting its tendrils wrap around her senses in a warm cocoon. His earnest need to ease her out of whatever unsettled her—so honest and guileless, centers her while it melts away and soothes any residual pain that the painful memory left in her heart.

So different.

A/N: *tenatively pokes her head into the fandom* hey there! 👋 I hoped you enjoyed this “little” preview of my upcoming fred weasley drabble! I’m a newly minted fan so I wasn’t sure how my fic would fare among you older and OG fans so I decided to just post a snippet of it and see how many of you would be interested in my little project. tbh I wasn’t that into the harry potter fandom for most of my life. I did ofc watched the films when I was younger and ended up with a Daniel Radcliffe crush tht lasted up until I became a Hiddlestoner.

But other than tht I didn’t really consider myself as a potterhead.... until one rerun marathon film series drew me back into its clutches and not only got me to start reading the books but also gave me a newfound appreciation and love for the Weasley twins (especially Fred 😉). the twins deserved a better ending than tht btw. heck. almost half of the characters were done dirty by the end of the series 👀

Anyway, I didn’t expect to fall so hard for the twins considering the massive crush my 9 year old self had w/ harry potter lol. those sneaky twins really have a way of worming themselves into your heart without you ever noticing it! Now, it’s been almost two months since watching the movies and I’m still overwhelmed with all the feels about those two 😩. so this fic/drabble was sort of a cathartic release of all my pent up emotions for them. tbh this just started off with me just wanting to describe the aesthetics Fred was giving me but well... all my feelings spilled out. oops 😬

the title is based on a great song that I stumbled on YouTube called “It Takes A Lot to Know a Man” by Damien Rice and I think it fits the dilemma of Fred and Seri finding out that there’s more than what the eye can see with each other. but that’s enough of my rambling for now 😅. If u made it all the way here, congratulations! And thank you for checking out my fic! I really do appreciate the time you spend reading this as well as any feedback you can give 🙏 (the more detailed the better!) Please reblog/like if you enjoyed this as well! I really appreciate it if you could share this with some of ur friends/mutuals it really makes all the sleepless nights working on this worth it!

Also let me know if there are any grammar errors too (bc I’m def sure there are some floating up there) I’m more of a fanfic reader than a writer so this was a BEAST to get out for me!

P.S. I’m also planning to have a self-insert/reader imagine version of this and any future drabbles of this series in the future since I know how some people feel about ocs 👀

Taglist: @firewhisky-kisses @yourssuccubus (who expressed great support in helping me write this! Thanks, u two ❤️ I hope it was worth the wait!

[madfantasy]

hii! sorry if you've answered this before, but how did you find your own art style? it's nothing like i've seen before, very dream-like (: i feel like with so many artists out there it can be hard to find one's own style but yours is truly unique. if it's not too much to ask, do you still have any of your first drawings? thank you 💕💕

(Oh & I'm sorry if I have answered it before, I didn't find anything on my blog so woop here comes my blaber)

Hello dear!

Thank you so much, you flatter me and my bit-som of art-som, heh. Specially that you have called it dream like— cuz 1/4 of my creations does come from my dreams. I even had a dream about Severus a couple of days ago- was explaining to him the concept of gestures in smartphones, I told him it's like pulling down a scroll, to get the notifications, lol.

Before I start side-tracking too much, yes- I can't say I do know how it happens, I guess I wasn't on the base of looking for an art style for myself, or ever considered myself an artist— or a real one? Idk. The idea of having an 'art style' doesn't register with me so I'm possibly always confused what to make of it.

I mean, I didn't go into art for art's sake. I don't enjoy beauty just for beauty's sake. It has to have a meaning, purpose, hidden dilemma you need to solve just by looking deeper; is it speaking to me, or am I speaking for it?

My only concern since the beginning of time of Mani apparating this earth and what got them into drawing anyway is: telling the story as best as possible.

I was drawing before I learned speaking. It was my instinctive language. I had something to say? Illustrated it on a piece of paper to show.

Everything I see in my surroundings or mostly in mind, I had a story to tell about. So I didn't even consider that I was making art.

I remember when I developed enough cells to be aware- I started trying to copy or capture the basics of family members, making stories about them, also games or shows I played; I drew Crash bandicoot, driving into a cliff because he was hated by his family, Tiny wearing an abaya. Pink panther cuz how tall he was weirded me out in a fascinating way, Tarzan and his special muscles, a story about an abused squid lady that eventually turn into a mermaid, a guy turning into a hero coz of some near death experience.. mmm stories about my favourite stuffed rabbit CeCe Bobo— probably the only innocent adventures I drew as a child— I wanted so badly to make them into a video game, having their parents fall into a pit of flames, heh.

And because I had daily TV episodes in my brain of whatever to occupy me from unsanitary real life; I associated with many people I love to see materlized; my characters. So I had to try & draw them exactly how they look/feel, and that's what my art slowly developed based on; is this guy the way I seen and felt him look like? If not, try other ways.

At first, I drew them with literal basic shapes, like a character would have a square face, and another heart, and if I couldn't draw circle, I used my pencil sharpener that was shaped as a circle. A method still I use to differentiate my characters (without the pencil sharpener lol)

Later, since my characters have generally my favourite things, or things I enjoy, things I appreciate— basically things from me directly or from my choices, conscious they were or not—had them chopped and scattered between the lot of them. And to learn how to do some favourite factors of them is what drives my art style I suppose. I knew I didn't want it realistic, but I also didn't want it unreal. What makes art real? That's probably the always questions I face.

Ofc, I was face with so many problems to deteriorate my passion for drawing. Like, not being allowed to draw in the first place. I had wait till everyone is gone or occupied, had to always look over my shoulder and must constantly hide every inkling of any art making, and act like the project I'm making is for school, and draw in breakfast breaks at school. I used to draw under my blanket and store my art between my books or under my pillow (never related to anything so hard like when Harry was studying magic and Dursley keeps checking on him, honestly heh). Either all that or I get the whip.

Or being told what's the point of having a style like that while everybody obviously enjoys popular styles like anime or cartoon? Why don't I draw like the popular to get noticed? I don't know how to draw anime or cartoon even if I tried. It will just show as my art style, no? Exactly like speaking two different languages with the same letters.

Or like the idea of strictly sticking to gendering things while the idea never occurred to me. The base line of how men has to be ugly and women pretty. My motto is showing beauty in everything, even in scary or messed up things hehe. But I had to consent to making my guys 'ugly' as possible to continue drawing, and if u notice a line on their throats, that's one other thing I had to do, wasn’t allowed to draw girls either. And I wasn't happy with any of that at all.

But I was able to win my right to draw anytime I like in recent years, and able to draw how I like how I use digital means. So it got better heh.

And no it's not too much, if anything, it was took me on a dusty beautiful trip of nostalgia, I thank you for it. Sadly I don't have my first drawings, and I do treasure them but they all been tossed, torn and burned before me over the years, heh.

The oldest thing I got is this, a comic made, was 11 years old I think:

Medo, a guy so beautiful that he was forced to work as a femal model, concept that felt the best to me, heh. Even tho I was in no contact with the outsider world.

He is my first solid character and I made endless comics of him.

He's develop into this -dated 2014- , he's fairy sentinel.

And I found few of my old or first time drawing them pics of the main characters in my stories, I'd love to share:

Juicy and X-bi— second ones I made. But these drawings are maybe 2 or 3 years after I made them

I know I said that lots, but x-bi was a mask wearing imaginary friend I translated into X-bi. He has almost always cold hands so I used to put my skin on cold metallic surface and imagine it his hands trying to ease the pain.

And since I had no audience home, my stuff showed at school as i drew alone, always with various replies of 'its good, but'

Juicy got me in trouble with a teacher, by a careless student that was browsing my drawings In front of them, and I was classified as mentally deranged and need help for not drawing the usual princes and white knight.

Fernando and Carlos are also old characters that expressed romance in everything they do, so when I had a drawing of them Carlos tending to a fevered Ferry, and it was snatched from me, everyone considering it intimacy and I had to punch my way through them to get it back. Being called perverted and sick in the process, even tho all they talk to me about is marriage and the process of making babies. One of them literally told me on random occasion that their heart was like a ten story building for rent, there's always someone new in and out.

Carlos is Fernando's soul guardian💛

I created General Pumbkin in school! expressing fashion in strictness with my fav hooked nose!

Axel was my joy in everything, and the most common character I got beat up for, for being girly. I don't draw him too much anymore but seeing him again made me auto happy , hes all about giving loff, darling hehe

Candy, a less brain developed babyy

Brain and Pain, my sibs fav characters from my bag, heh

And Sabine was said to me that he should be a girl to be that scared in a scary story, his story is like dark and twisted fairytales vibe that I love dearly. I'm trying to continue writing his story.

Despite whatever, I love doing art, I have to. It what gives me soul juice heh.

And thank you for sticking on my prolonged answer. I hope I didn't bore too much, I'm flooded with memories happy and bad, and they are all okay. It made me feel passionate again, so thank you for the opportunity 🙏

1.5.2020

[thedreadgay]

a promise sealed with a kiss

word count: 2473 author’s notes: mhawke/varric commission for my buddy @punkdeaf !!! i had a lot of fun with this one, pls enjoy some gay losers reuniting after inquisition

—

The sky was dark with smoke and night around Adamant. The aftermath of battle began to seep into survivors' bones, the crash after the sweat and adrenaline of survival. Varric could feel it, heavier than stone.

He figured Hawke felt it, too. They sat side by side on a fallen block, tucked in a lonely corner of the now crumbling fortress. Armor clanked as Inquisition soldiers passed to and fro, just beyond the jut of the half-broken wall. Their voices washed over Varric: someone calling for the nearest healer, cries of victory, breathless exclamations and barking orders. Words, words, words, the words of a successful siege, the victorious in the face of an army of demons—all the stories of all those people, wrapped into one like threads of a rope. All those damn words. And yet, for once, Varric had none. He and Hawke sat in unusual silence.

“You’re really going then, huh?” Was the best Varric could manage. His voice was scratchy from desert air turned acrid with death and wicked magic. He watched a tower of pyre smoke roll high, high into the sky, sparks reaching up, as though freeing the fallen to become burning stars.

Hawke didn’t respond right away. Varric tore his gaze away from the massive pyre to Hawke. His broad shoulders were hunched, his robes covered in soot. The dark circles under his eyes persisted, as they had for years now. “You know me,” Hawke muttered then, scratching his beard; “Trouble finds me no matter what. May as well try to stay a step ahead and dive right into it.”

Varric gave a half-hearted chuckle. Hawke tried for a weak smile. Both looked about ready to fall apart.

Their gazes simply held, then. Words hung on the tip of Varric's tongue that felt too terrifying to breathe into fruition. He inched his hand closer to Hawke's; the other took it, entwined their fingers. It was the closest inkling of home Varric had felt in a while.

What could he say? All those words were so much that he couldn’t pick them out, like grains of sand sifting through his fingers.

“Just, uh,” he tried quietly, then sighed. “Just… come back. Okay?”

Hawke pursed his lips for a moment. “And what about you?”

Varric remembered their hushed conversation in front of the war room, just before marching from Skyhold to battle. He remembered leaning heavily against the wall, like without some tether he would be swept away in the chaos. “I think… I need to finish this out,” he had rasped.

Hawke had been a mirror before him then, and he was again now. A world of guilt carved lines around his eyes; Varric couldn’t know for sure—didn’t want to know for sure—but he could have sworn some whisper of the Fade still clung to Hawke, a smell like lightning in his clothes; and he could see, in the hunch of Hawke's back, where the demon's echo still slithered down his spine.

“Varric will die, just like your family.”

Not on my watch, Smiley, Varric thought.

“I’ll come back, too.”

Hawke released a sigh, deflating like the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He squeezed Varric's hand, and for just a moment, his eyes sparkled in that way that made Varric's heart skip. “Call it a date, then?”

It drew a laugh from Varric, a real laugh, that felt better than any sugar on his tongue. “It’s a date.”

Hawke's goofy smile was like a ray of damn sunlight in the gloom. He leaned in, and Varric followed. Their kiss tasted like smoke, love, and dare Varric think it—hope. A fine way to seal a promise.

—

Varric came back from the ruins of a prophet's temple, where he saw an ancient evil crumble to ash.

Varric came back from some of his least favourite places: the Deep Roads, yawning caverns with out-of-place carvings, now swallowed beneath water and lyrium. Places hidden behind mirrors, tucked in between the physical and the dreams that were foreign to him. The Winter Palace, a snake pit built upon greed and painted over with gold.

Varric returned home. But Kirkwall was emptier without Hawke.

He rebuilt, and watched, and waited. He trembled where he held their promise, close to his heart, so pure and lethal. Varric wasn't the kind of guy who did promises. Hawke wasn’t either, he knew.

Always an exception, huh? He thought, lying alone and unsleeping in bed. It became a habit of his.

Varric knew what hope and promises did. The risk of a broken heart was a terrifying thing to hold on your own.

Yet, he held.

—

There was a rapid little knock on the doorway of his suite. “Serah Viscount?” A voice squeaked. “I have your mail for you here.”

Varric sighed. Even in the Hanged Man, with the drunken clamour drifting up the stairs to him, he couldn’t escape. Bran must have told the carriers to deliver to him directly now.

“Alright, come on in,” he relented. “You can leave it on the table.”

Varric set aside his writing, not for any intent to actually read his letters, but so none could glimpse a work in progress. A scruffy young mail boy tip-toed in cautiously, setting the stack on the table as though it may bite him.

Varric did a double take as he did. Sitting precariously atop the pile, stark against the crisply folded papers, was a small roll of parchment, tied with red string.

He must have been staring at the scroll, because the carrier stuttered nervously, “S-Serah?”

Poor kid. Probably wasn’t paid nearly enough to see the Viscount have a damn heart attack.

Varric smiled reassuringly, and stood. “How much you being paid to deliver my mail, kid?”

The boy shifted on feet that looked too big for him. “Uh. Five sovereigns, Serah Viscount.”

Not nearly enough. Varric dug into his pocket, and tossed him a pouch; the boy fumbled, but caught it. “Here’s another fifteen. No matter what the Seneschal says, don’t deliver directly to me, unless—” Varric held up the roll of parchment— “I get another letter like this. Sound good?”

“Very good, Serah!” The boy was just about to run out in his glee, but hastily bowed first. “Fine day to you!”

Varric watched him scramble out with the pouch clutched tight to his chest. With no one to see him, Varric held the letter much the same.

The rest of the pile lay forgotten on the corner of the table as Varric retreated to the bed. He was of two minds: to simply hold the precious paper, untie the little red string with care, and carefully pour over the words; or unfurl and take them in voraciously, like a man starved.

He sat on the edge of the bed, and his hands were so torn in what to do that they froze. Varric stared at the letter, his heart pounding.

With shaky fingers, he slid the tie off the scroll, and gently rolled it open.

I'm okay, were the first words. He sighed like he hadn’t relaxed in years, and he traced the letters with his fingertips, as though reaching for Hawke's.

Varric felt full of mush as he read Hawke's quick account of Weisshaupt. Love, fear, and relief pushed and pulled at his insides until they ground him into pulp. The words carried him through his turmoil like a light in the dark. And isn’t that what Hawke always did? Varric chuckled to himself at the thought, fond and soft.

Don’t think I've forgotten our date. My memory may be shite, but never when it comes to you, love.

Varric guffawed, a full and happy sound that melded with the din outside his door. He fell back on the bed, staring up at the words and the sigil of a hawk signed beneath them. He laughed until those beautiful words and familiar sign became blurry through tears.

Giggling like a lovesick fool wasn’t on his list of things to do today, but he was always flexible.

—

“Well, finally he sends word,” Aveline huffed. Though she looked stern with her arms crossed, Varric knew from just the way she leaned on her desk that she was relieved; relaxed, even. The Guard-Captain still needed a hobby. “How Hawke manages to stay alive like this, I'll never know.”

Varric shrugged with a grin. “It’s part of his charm.”

Aveline rolled her eyes, but she was smiling now, too. “You’re downright chipper.”

“You think?” Varric scratched his stubble, and his grin turned wry. “I’m only acting as sappy as you did when you got married.”

She lightly smacked his arm, which wasn’t light at all considering she was built like brick, but Varric snickered nonetheless.

Despite his elation, Varric remained apprehensive as he left the Viscount's Keep, and looked into the cloudy sky. There was still a storm brewing, and he would have Hawke by his side when it hit.

Come home soon.

—

Some days, it hurt to walk past the ancestral seat of House Amell. Others, it brought Varric a fond sense of joy.

It had been ransacked more than once when it sat empty after the rebellion. If not for goods, then information; Cassandra and her Seekers had been among them. He tried not to think of being hauled and thrown into the place, once so full of life, turned harsh and cold. That house was a home, he reminded himself. Hawke's home—and Hawke's home was a home to them all.

That was the joy to it, the feeling he tried to call forth when he did his part to take care of the estate. It lingered beside the hearths, in the books he had carefully sorted back on the shelves, on the stairs where Isabela carved dirty things. It seemed to nurture the people who came in and out, those down on their luck who needed somewhere to stay. I'm sure the Champion wouldn’t mind, Varric would always say.

The Hawke Estate shouldn’t be a lonely place.

It didn’t have any occupants at the moment. The last resident gave Varric a loaf of bread they baked in the kitchen, with a warm smile kindled by the fire, and left with thanks and that joy. Varric couldn’t remember the last time he'd had home-baked bread.

He ate a piece as he wandered the estate, dusting here and there as he went. Pristine places didn’t have much character that Varric liked, but he didn’t want it to go overlooked. Unused. Unappreciated.

That was when he heard an unusual creak from Hawke's bedroom.

Bianca practically never left his side, and he slowly unholstered her then, carefully creeping forward. With his back pressed to the wall, the Amell crest hanging proud above him, Varric peered around the corner, past the open door.

A hooded figure slipped quietly through the window. They turned back and held up one finger, gesturing for silence, but Varric couldn’t see who—or what—lay beyond. The person looked broad, even beneath their fur-trimmed cloak, and they carried a staff in one hand… then, they pulled back their hood.

“Hawke?”

Hawke whirled around, just as shocked, and whatever was still outside scrabbled against the tiles in the garden. Bianca hung slack in Varric's arms, as through a sliver of the doorway, the two met eyes for the first time in years.

Hawke's beard was thicker, and his boots and hem of his cloak were dirtied. He looked as though he had maybe a few more scars and wrinkles, and Varric could say the same. But brown eyes met brown eyes, lighting up with the same joy that sang through the place—Varric understood deeply then, that it was created when a family was brought together—and it was Hawke.

Hawke's face split into a huge grin, and he spread his arms wide. “Honey, I'm home.”

Varric laughed. And laughed, and laughed more, as he remembered how to move again. He holstered Bianca as he rushed forward, and Hawke's staff clattered to the floor as he met Varric halfway. They collided in the middle of the bedroom, crushed together, and Hawke's laughter joined his own in the sweetest chorus Varric had ever heard. A bark sounded, and it was Hawke's mabari that leapt after her master, running in excited circles around the two of them.

It was Hawke. Varric's hands framed his face and brought him down; their noses bumped, Hawke's beard scratched his stubble, and their kiss didn’t taste like smoke. It was hope realized; it was a promise kept; and it was Hawke.

His scent surrounded Varric, and he had the most wonderful ache in his heart that thumped with love. They kissed again; Varric's knees felt weak with emotion, or maybe from Potato headbutting him affectionately. When they parted just so, there were tears heavy in Hawke's eyes. “I made our date,” he murmured thickly.

Varric's cheeks hurt from grinning. Tears sprung to his eyes now too as they sank to the floor together, face to face, wrapped in one another. “So did I.”

Potato nosed her way between them to give Varric her own slobbery kisses, but Varric didn’t mind; he and Hawke kept laughing as Varric scratched behind her ears. “I missed you too, girl.”

She seemed satisfied with the attention, resting her head on Varric’s shoulder. Hawke asked jokingly, “Am I permitted to keep kissing him now?”

Potato's response was a happy rumble. Varric chuckled. “You heard the lady.”

Hawke's kiss, with his thumb stroking the apple of Varric's cheek, felt like home completed.

—

They stoked a small fire in the hearth of Hawke's bedroom. Coats and boots shed, they sat together beneath a thick blanket, sharing the loaf of bread that Varric retrieved. Potato dozed across their laps, basking in warmth and idle pets.

They talked—about everything. Weisshaupt. The Exalted Council. Kirkwall. Tevinter. What was yet to come.

“You're collecting another loaf in your beard,” Varric interrupted, his lips quirking up at the mess of crumbs.

“Snacks for later,” Hawke said without missing a beat.

“You’re such a damn dreamboat.”

“Of course I am. Only the finest man about for me.”

“We ruggedly handsome do tend to flock together, don’t we?”

“Don’t forget gentlemanly.”

They grinned at each other. He could taste the earthy bread on Hawke's lips.

“So,” Hawke murmured, “ready to help save the world, love?”

Varric sighed. “It’s always us in the thick of it, huh?”

“Seems that way.” Hawke kissed a crumb from the corner of his mouth. “But we'll be in it together, hm?”

Varric held him like close wasn’t close enough. Against all the odds that kept him up at night, they were reunited in their home—and Varric knew he could take on anything. “You bet we will.”

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, KITA! You’ve been accepted for the role of CORIOLANUS. Admin Minnie: Kita, I genuinely don’t think we’ve had a Cyrus like yours join us in Verona. The way you capture both Cyrus’s beauty and his ugliness both. All that entitlement, all that arrogance, all that charm — you’ve grasped it masterfully. You understand Cyrus on a deep, personal level; but that’s not why I was so excited to accept your application. Ultimately, it was this line that really won me over: “But mostly, I am here because of this: if I do not stand witness to a falling star, if I do not love him as he is–, then I fear no one ever will.” I’m already in love with your Cyrus for who he is, and all the potential he has to ruin my life! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER Alias | kita Age | 20 Preferred Pronouns | she/her Activity Level | I think I can be fairly active. I am a full-time student, so my priority will always be there, but I always aim to get my replies done within a week. 6/10 or more? Hopefully more. Timezone | EST 

(also English is not my first language so pls be kind)

IN CHARACTER Character |

Cyrus Vicente Sloane ; CORIOLANUS FC: Lorenzo Zurzolo

Alt fc: Wolfgang Novogratz

What drew you to this character? |

oh Gods, where do I begin? Of all Verona’s monsters, Cyrus Sloane has to be one of the worst. At once, spoiled rotten, cruel and innately duplicitous, Cyrus is an arrogant princeling whose tyranny knows no bounds. And yet, as soon as I finished reading his biography, I knew it was over. He materialized in my mind like some sort of phantom, flashed that winning smile at me and visions of him haunted me ever after.

I saw his head across Brigette’s lap on a lazy summer afternoon. Sipping champagne out of long-stemmed glasses, wearing filigreed gold masks to cover their ugliness inside, the two of them are tyrants, fickle and fiendish things about to wreak terror on a city that has only known it.

———— “do you love me, cyrus?” she pouts. he smiles. when he kisses the petulance from her lips, there is no answer needed.

I saw his lips tilt upward into a smug grin as he and Lawrence meet up in a dingy bar. When the time comes, he throws his head back with laughter, he leans in, whispers something just loud enough for the other man to hear. This is a dangerous game to play, Lawrence knows. Nothing, after all, is ever given freely. But one look at Cyrus, at that indigent boy who seems not at all concerned with his traitorous tongue nor the consequences of it, and his fears are momentarily assuaged.

———— “all of this is just talk between friends, signor vernon,” cyrus says, waving off worries with an unconcerned shrug. lawrence pauses, raises an eyebrow, “is that what we are?”

I could wax poetic about why Cyrus is the way he is, why he plays at being charming, demands to be worshipped. But, in the end, it boils down to this: the rot in Cyrus Sloane is that he could not find it in himself to be forgiven. The anger he has in his heart, the revenge he plots– it is all because he cannot find anyone to blame but himself.

In Capetown, he learned to make weapons out of fleeting sweet-faced grins and honeyed lies. Barely into manhood, he won the hearts of his countrymen, had the ear of a kingpin, sat poised for an easy throne. But, though he had everything one could ever dream of, he still gave it all up in order to return to the place of his first and most terrible failure. Look, I have no doubt that he tells himself that he hates his mother. I have no doubt that he even believes that. However, I know that if you cut him open, you would see that he only hates that he does not hate her, not really. He hates that he cannot fault her for anything that she has ever done.

He had always idolized her, had always thought her the paragon of perfection, of stoic and unbending strength. He had never even blamed her for being cold to him– after all, his mother was never anything but pragmatic. She must have had her own reasons to toss him to the wolves. He blames her only for this: for propping up a mirror to his nature, for casting a light on a part of him that he would rather have never acknowledged… for reminding him that he was weak enough to be unwanted, that no matter how hard he tried to be beloved—he would only ever be left behind.

Yes, he is a sharp and cutting thing, hard to look at. He burns so bright, my icarian boy. He fashions himself so easy to be loved and flies so close to the sun, taunting it to shoot him down. He will ruin Verona, if he has his way. He will almost certainly burn himself up to do it. And I suppose I have applied— in part, to try and stop him, to save him from himself. But mostly, I am here because of this: if I do not stand witness to a falling star, if I do not love him as he is–, then I fear no one ever will.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

1— Nothing short of a prodigy in politics + war, this princeling figures some form of leadership to be the most natural application for his talents, and, as it seems, he seems destined for it. Impressed by Cyrus’ verve and natural aptitude for diplomacy, Cosimo has promoted the young man to an emissary and holds Cyrus in high regard. But, while Cyrus seems content in his position and its upwards mobility, he does not intend to take orders forever.

In his biography, there are inklings of a betrayal from Cyrus to the Capulets written throughout his biography. His position to Lawrence as an informant is an obvious clue of lack of loyalty, but it definitely goes far beyond that. Cyrus pays no mind to any man (nor God). He is only concerned with his own interest.

While the possibility of Cyrus becoming a Montague is tantalizing, I think Cyrus hates the Capulets for what they have done to him, but he hates all of Verona the same way. Trading loyalties to the Montagues, to another mob family with a rigid hierarchy isn’t how Cyrus sees himself. He wants to be King, not just a soldier with a different perspective of the Castelvecchio Bridge. Right now, Cyrus does his best to play at peace. But, as the war in Verona streets escalates, the number of neutral sanctuaries decreases, I intend to make Cyrus prove himself loyal to a side, once and for all— whichever one that may be.

———— “Do you not trust me?” Cyrus grins. With his teeth bared and the whites of his eyes glittering in the dark, he looks like the Cheshire cat. You think you have never trusted him less.

2— Earnestly, I think that Cyrus probably wouldn’t betray the Capulets for the Montagues. However, I didn’t say Cyrus wouldn’t betray the Capulets altogether. In fact, for his goal (just like… enacting revenge on all of Verona), I think it’s more likely than not that he will betray them at some point. A thread I’ve been following through the biographies is Cassian’s ties to certain neutral parties (olivia + mona in particular). I could be misreading, but Olivia has her eyes on him. Mona knows his secrets. Like snakes, they cut through the grass, wrap themselves around the prey and they squeeze. Pressure mounting, Cassian might crack sometime soon. And Cyrus— well, he’s nothing if not an opportunist.

In the biography, it is explicitly stated that Cyrus seeks to overtake Cassian. Though Cyrus plays the part of being his dutiful student, he has no real affection for his mentor. Ever since he has been in Verona, he has tried to get closer to his mentor. However, when he spots Olivia’s watchful gaze on the man, I think Cyrus will jump at the chance to act– to finally show that he is not someone to be underestimated. I think this is a perfect opportunity for him to stumble.

I would love to see him team up with Mona and Olivia to amp up the pressure on Cassian. And moreover, I would love to see Cyrus’ loyalties be swayed to them entirely. In my eyes, Mona Chen is someone who thrives in duplicity, whose mother (and father) has not been kind to her and someone who Cyrus knows- will never bow to anyone. It is those things that Cyrus respects. It is those things that will make Cyrus vulnerable to her.

Perhaps Cyrus just passes information about Cassian to Mona and Olivia at first. he offers his assistance from time to time. But maybe things go deeper. Maybe he sees Mona as the coming storm, as someone who will brings the winds of change. Maybe Cyrus can be even convinced to follow her entirely. In any case, this is a perfect opportunity for Cyrus to make a misstep, for him to reveal too much about himself and having that be his undoing. Mona is a woman who deals with secrets and has no problem weaponizing that. It would be awful for him, if she had some dirt of him.

———— “You cannot think that I will let you crush my mentor,” he says, “at least, not without my help.”

3— What is Cyrus without his mother? What is a list of plots without Cyrus and Vivianne on it?. Honestly, I don’t even know where this is going to go. I just know that it’s going to hurt so exquisitely. If you asked Cyrus about his mother, he would laugh. I have your love, he would say, why do I need hers? There is no hard feelings between the two of them, he says. What she did gave him a better life. I mean, just look at him. He was spoiled in Capetown, given everything he ever wanted. And now that he is back in Verona, his good fortune has only followed. Right?

In the years since Cyrus left Capetown, Vivianne has only thrived. She has married Cosimo, become the underboss of the city’s best crime family (fuck u, montagues). She has even found a surrogate daughter to replace him, one that she loves in ways that she never could with him. It is clear that the problem was never with her. To a layman’s eye, Cyrus is nothing but an indigent boy who aims to make Verona his playground. Reveling in every waking moment in the city, he’s a reckless and terrible thing, content to leave caution to the wind so long as he conquers these streets. But the truth is– he has no appetite for ambition without her as an audience, no desire to prove his happiness and success if the news will not travel somehow to her ears.

He hates Vivianne. But what he hates most about her is that—while he would have done anything for her attention, she never seemed to care for him. ———— “You have the world, Cyrus,” she says, calm as ever. He laughs. ”Does it matter? I would have given it all up if you had just been there.”

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | not yet.

IN DEPTH In-Character Para Sample:

//// I WROTE THIS LITERALLY ALL TODAY BC I WANTED TO GET MY APP IN PLS DONT JUDGE TOO HARSHLY

Mass had only ended an hour or so ago. The candles lit for the service still smoldered from having been snuffed out. But Cyrus held no pretensions—sanctity had left this house of worship far before that.

There was nothing holy about this place, he ascertained.  

Perhaps there never had been.

Of course—he would not deny that, as a child, Cyrus had found the Cattedrale di Verona impossibly beautiful. A feat of architecture like no other, it had filled his chest with wonder to see the golden mural that arched across the vaulted ceiling, the reverential way sunlight passed through the stained glass. However, he had long since learned that the spectacle was only a clever ruse. Just like most things in Verona, beauty existed only to hide the rot that so often lurked beneath.

As he walked through the empty pews now, he felt a visceral disgust with himself. How had he not seen it? While he sat in these very seats, knelt on this very floor, sought out something bigger than himself, looked in every corner to find out why the room always felt so empty, he had been blind to the cracks in walls, the chips in the paint. The priest had said once to him that “in god, he would find all answers”—but there was no salvation to be found here.

Even when he had needed it the most, he had never found any salvation here.

Yes, you see he understood now. There was only one reason why he came to the Cathedral now: to drink in his bitterness, to remind himself of the debt he was owed.

The Cathedral was his, just like this city was. Not in that he believed in it or that he loved it more than anyone else, but because he had paid for it ten times over. It had promised him mercy and benevolence and safety, but, when every alley had looked like fear and every corner had held another terrible surprise, it had denied him of all of it. When he was weak, they had cast him aside, and he still remembered that casual cruelty, still felt the sting of rejection and could not bear it.

With no one around to stop him, Cyrus clambered atop an empty pew and went to light a cigarette. While the puff of smoke rose ever upwards, caressed the faces of Abaddon and John, St. Michael and Magog, he laughed. How prescient of them, he thought to himself, to paint a picture of their own reckoning.

He stubs his cigarette out on the pew. It leaves a scorch mark, but he does not seem to care. He offers a rakish smile to no one in particular. He laughs.

“You would forgive me,” he says to the empty air.

(And look- look at that winsome smile, at that careless leer. You could try to fault him for something. He would dare you to. But you would still forgive him anyways.)

[goodproofingwater]

Wildfire Records - Chapter Eleven

Word count: 4077

“He did what?!” Juliet almost spat out her cappuccino as Victoria gave her the low down.

It had been too long since the girls had a proper catch-up, and she was half glad that Andy had fucked up her morning so they had an excuse to get out.

“Yeah..” Victoria sipped her macchiato, placing it carefully down on the saucer before she glanced at her phone, rolling her eyes as she saw the fourth message that came through from Andy. For someone that had cared so little that he slept with someone 20 feet from her, he was sure chasing her a lot.

Andy [TD]: Come on babe, forgive me?

Andy [TD]: It was just one time, it meant nothing!

Andy [TD]: Was just trying to get us on the radio and it worked!

Andy [TD]: U can’t just run off, i’m gonna be here waiting for u and we’re gonna sort this out.

“Is that him?” Juliet asked, sitting up straighter as Victoria showed her the screen and the brunette rolled her eyes so hard they could have fallen out of her head. “Jesus, how can someone be such a fuck boy?”

“I know..” Victoria sighed, “I can’t believe that I didn’t see this before. Why did I even start sleeping with him?”

“Because he’s cocky, has a six pack and caught you when you were on drugs.” Juliet chuckled a little at the words and Victoria nodded, impressed at how well her friend had hit the nail on the head, “Also I think you were probably a little vulnerable. You just walked out of your job and moved out of your house, and you were in limbo with Josh..”

Juliet spoke before she sipped her coffee with raised eyebrows, wondering if the red head was ready to admit what her and Danny already knew.

The comment caught the younger girl off guard and she shook her head, “What do you mean?”

Juliet rolled her eyes once more, but this time it was different, a playful remark as she glanced down at Victoria's phone which again went off. This time the girl didn’t frown, but a small smile washed over her features and she immediately picked up the device, tapping away.

“I mean you had no idea if Josh wanted you so you were feeling vulnerable. Obviously you know how you feel about him now right?” Juliet spoke, and Victoria rested the top of her phone against her lips as she held it with two hands, contemplating the question and wondering if she should say it out loud.

Of course, she had an inkling of how she felt, but she had been heartbroken so recently, and was so scared of getting hurt again that she couldn’t let the feelings through. Still, when he had texted her to say good morning she had felt the same butterflies she felt when he kissed her forehead the previous evening. The same butterflies she felt when he had held her from behind in the kitchen and she had wished his lips had met her own.

“I don’t..” Victoria took a deep breath and shook her head, sipping her coffee before she started again, “I can’t think about anything like that right now…”

Juliet nodded, not wanting to push, but Danny and herself had been watching from the sidelines the whole time and were so close to just locking them both in the same room until they got together.

“You and Danny are pretty solid now though, right?” Victoria spoke, grinning as her friend almost visibly blushed at the mention of the brunettes name. “God, you guys are so cute it makes me sick..” She grinned and Juliet nudged the younger girls leg with her foot beneath the table.

“Oh shut up..” She grinned, “But yeah we’re pretty solid. He introduced me to his mum on facetime the other night.” Juliet was smiling so wide that it looked like it must hurt, and Victoria couldn’t help but mirror it. She was so happy that this wonderful woman in front of her had met her soulmate.

“How was that?” Victoria spoke, sitting back and allowing Juliet to talk about how well it went, the conversations that they had and the plans that they already had for Danny’s mum to meet her. They had solid plans for Juliet to go back with the boys at the end of their one year trip here and stay with them for a few weeks, and Victoria hoped more than anything that she could join the trip if only to visit California.

“Well, I’m happy for you..” The redhead grinned, glancing at her phone and chuckling as she saw that Josh had sent her a video selfie of him rolling his eyes.

J: Andy won’t shut the fuck up about this radio bullshit and how you almost kicked him in the face this morn

J: well done lmao you should have :P x

“We’d all be happy for you too y’no… Whenever you’re both ready to stop being so dumb…” Juliet grinned over her coffee, and Victoria shook her head with a laugh.

Josh had been sitting in the living room attempting to ignore the ramblings of his friend. Both Danny and himself were frustrated with his take on what had happened the previous evening, and while Danny was trying to remain as impartial as possible and was humoring Andy’s concerns, Josh was finding it difficult to contain his anger.

Texting Victoria was helping, her fast responses keeping him from hearing some of the worst responses to Danny mentioning the fact that he shouldn’t have slept with anyone else in the first place, but when Andy laughed at the fact that Victoria had slapped him, it was enough to rile Josh into standing and walking to the kitchen.

“You think it’s funny?” Josh placed both hands on the opposite side of the breakfast bar to Andy, eyes narrowing and brow furrowing in anger, Danny looking nervously between the two men in front of him.

“I think it’s funny that she got so upset when we were never exclusive, yeah..” Andy let out another laugh from his lips, and Josh took a small step back, running his thumb along his bottom lip as he looked at Andy with pure anger.

“I think you better get out of here before I fucking kill you.” Josh spoke, and Danny rounded the counter to stand closer to his friend, ready to push him back should something break out.

“You’re gonna kill me because I got us a spot on a radio show?” Andy chuckled, squaring his shoulders, elevating his jaw with a cocky smirk that made Josh even more angry.

“Fuck you, you piece of shit,” Josh spat, “If you really think that what you did is justified just because she has a radio show you’re more deluded than I thought.”

Josh moved forward and Danny grabbed his arm, shaking his head, “Come on. Roof. Now.”

The blonde looked at Danny, wanting to deny him and launch himself over the counter but knowing that his friend was right. Both of them were well versed in Andy’s arrogance, well experienced in what to do to ensure that it didn’t end up in a massive bust up, and leaving him to himself was the best way to deal with it. Josh would have had more of an issue leaving an argument where he knew he was right if ignoring Andy didn’t have as much of an effect as it did. If there was anything that Andy hated more than anything it was being ignored.

Pulling out a packet of cigarettes, Josh lit one and took a long drag as he shook his head, Danny watching him with careful eyes in case he decided to go back downstairs.

“How can he be so fucking stupid?” Josh almost spat, flicking the dead ash off the end of his cigarette before he took another drag, “So fucking heartless - did you see how fucking upset she was?”

Danny shook his head and sipped the coffee he had bought up with him, “I did - I don’t know either man. You know what Andy’s like, he always finds a way to justify his bullshit.” He let out a sigh and Josh shook his head, completely unsatisfied with the answer from his best friend.

He stood, his entire face contorted with anger as he willed himself not to go down there and burn his cigarette out on Andy's face just so he felt something other than the numbness that came with a cocaine high. Because how else could he be like this? He had always been arrogant and cocky, but he had never been so hurtful. Perhaps he didn’t understand what it felt like to be so betrayed by someone, and he hadn’t seen just how hurt V had been when she had been up here crying in his arms.

“She was fucking distraught up here, Dan..” Josh spoke, taking a quick drag before he continued, pacing as he spoke, “Literally crying her eyes out because he wasn’t even decent enough to tell her he was gonna fuck someone else - and he thinks it’s fucking funny?” Josh took another long drag before he threw the butt on the floor and stumped it out, deliberately avoiding the ashtrays on the table that Andy insisted they use.

“Josh.. I know that he’s an asshole, but you have to just leave him to it. This is exactly like the time we tried to get Drew to join as the bassist, remember?”

It had been the plan for a long time that they would get their mutual friend to play bass in The Dangers, they had auditioned him and everyone was in agreement but then the trio played what was supposed to be their last show as just the three of them and Andy had changed his mind. He had kicked off so much at Drew that the guy had barely spoken to Josh and Danny for weeks, and it was only when the bassist had said that he didn’t think he could be a band with the redhead anyway that the two had given up. The similarity was that Andy had justified his actions with an argument where he genuinely believed three pieces were more successful, that it would be easier to have him play bass and they would have to carry less equipment to shows because they wouldn’t have the additional guitar. It had never been an option that Andy would only sing.

“Yeah, it’s like that except if he said yeah, Drew had come over here with us and then he’d kicked him out of the band and the house.” Josh sighed and sat down, wishing that their friend was easier to deal with, that he wasn’t such a prick.

“Leave him to stew by himself for a while. He’ll apologise to Vic, you know he will. He’s an asshole but he’s not completely oblivious.” Josh flinched at the words and tried to keep his concerns from showing on his face, but he knew he was not the best at that.

In an incredibly selfish way, he had been hoping that Andy and Victoria would just never talk again. What if Andy apologised and she took him back? She had been so angry and upset that he seriously doubted it even being an option in her mind, but she deserved so much better.

“He’s a fucking prick.” Josh spoke, lighting up another cigarette and watching as an amused smile filtered over his friends face. “What? Do you want one?” The blonde held out the packet with one hand.

“No..” Danny chuckled, shaking his head and sipping his coffee, “I’m just wondering if you realise that you’re way too close to this..”

Josh’s brow furrowed in confusion as he tapped the end of the cherry in the ashtray, and threw the cigarette packet on the table, waiting for his friend to continue.

“I mean.. You like her right?” Danny shrugged as if it was the most obvious and non-chalant comment ever, and Josh looked up at his friend under his lashes, trying to stifle the smile that came from his best friend being able to pick up on his feelings before he had vocalised them.

Josh thought about his answer before he gave it. He wanted to deny it, wanted to keep pretending that his feelings for V weren’t affecting everything he was doing but what was the point? Even if he was being strategic because she had just finished with his friend, this was Danny he was talking to. Danny quite often knew things about Josh before he did himself.

“Yeah…” Josh shrugged in return, taking another drag from his cigarette before looking up at his friend, “I mean, he’s still a prick though.”

“Oh yeah, he’s still a prick..” Danny nodded in agreement, “But you think he’s more of a prick because he cheated on the girl that you like.. So maybe just.. Maybe just remember that before you go around throwing punches.”

Josh chuckled at his friends words, shaking his head, his words quiet as he admitted out loud for the first time, “Trust me, it’s not something I can stop thinking about.”

He cleared his throat and took another drag before he continued, “How did you know?”

Danny let out a laugh that was louder than Josh had been expecting and he shook his head with a wide grin.

“You wrote a song called Red that had the lyrics ‘You’re not mine’ in them over and over…” Danny chuckled, sipping his coffee, “I know that I can usually pick up on how you’re feeling without you saying anything but dude.. You may as well be wearing a shirt that says ‘I HEART VICTORIA’ in massive red letters.”

Josh grinned at his friend, shaking his head, “I thought I was being subtle..”

“It was about as subtle as Justin Timberlake writing Cry Me A River about Britney Spears and then putting a lookalike in the video…” He grinned and Josh shook his head, letting out a deep chuckle.

“Do you think she knows?” Josh asked, looking up at his friend with a coy look in his eye, hoping that this conversation would never be spoken about again. He felt like he was in high school with all this ‘who likes who’ bullshit but while they were on the subject…

“I think she might have an idea, but she hasn’t said anything to Juliet about it. It was just as obvious to Juliet by the way..” Josh chuckled and bit his lip before he let out a deep sigh.

“Guess I better wait for a while to suggest any of the other stuff i’ve written over the last couple of weeks then..”

Danny grinned, “Nah dude, you gotta let it out in some way. We’re certainly not getting any lyrics from Pablo Escobar down there are we…”

Josh grinned, the joke cracking him up and he put out his cigarette as he heard a door close from below.

“Now come on, let's get you some coffee and hear the 500 songs you’ve written about unrequited love..”

The time the boys spent in the studio became one of their most productive moments, 5 different songs demoed and 3 that Andy actually liked. Danny had known that getting the boys in the studio together would help them sort out their beef, and it did. They had always been able to put aside anything for the music.

“This one — this one's my favourite,” Andy spoke, and Danny glanced at Josh as a small smirk plastered its way across his features. Andy had chosen the song that Josh had written about him.

“Alright,” Josh grinned, “get in that booth and we’ll do your vocals” He sat up in his chair ready to work, but then turned his head as a knock permeated the room.

“Come in..” Danny called, and Victoria poked her head around the door, pointedly avoiding Andy’s eyes.

“We’re getting a take away, do you want anything?” She offered to Danny and Josh, walking into the studio and taking a seat next to the blonde to show him the menu she had up on her phone. As Danny and Josh were looking, Andy moved behind the chair and lowered his hands to Victoria’s neck in an attempt to give her a massage as he had done in the past, but she leaned forward and eventually stood up when he wouldn’t relent.

“Get your hands away from me,” Victoria spoke, moving to stand next to Danny as Josh looked between the red heads, ready to make a move if he needed to.

“Babe come on, this is getting stupid now.” Andy sighed, visibly annoyed having obviously not thought through implications of his actions.

“Stupid?!” Victoria spat, and Josh stood up in his chair in time to stop her from launching herself at his friend. Josh held her waist and pushed her back toward the couches that sat opposite the mixing desk, and she spat profanities over his shoulder at the redhead who stood there in shock.

“Woah, woah, woah, lets keep this away from the million dollar recording equipment shall we?” Danny spoke, pressing his hand to Andy's chest to stop him from approaching Victoria. It was clear that he had no idea how much he had hurt her, and thought he could make it up but just apologising.

“I said fucking sorry!” Andy spoke, and Victoria let out an exhausted laugh

“Oh ,you’re sorry?! Take your apology and shove it up your ass you ignorant, self obsessed, narcissist.” Josh couldn’t help but grin a little at her words, the fire in her something that just made her more attractive.

“You’re gonna miss me and come crawling back you just wait,” Andy spoke, his cocky smile enough to make Victoria try and push past Josh, but he held her firmly in place with his hands on her waist.

“I wouldn’t crawl back to you if your cock was the last source of oxygen on the planet” she spat, and Josh and Danny let out a small laugh. Shock washed over Andy's face, and Josh bit his lip to keep from laughing as he watched Victoria’s features change from anger to a small smile as she realised what she had said.

“Pretty strong image you conjured up there..” Josh smirked, eyes darting from her own to her swollen lips and god did he want to kiss her.

“Yeah… maybe you could put it in one of your tracks..” she chuckled, resting her hands on his biceps as his hands remained on her waist, and it felt so good to be held like this by him.

Andy’s eyes darted from Josh to the girl that had been his and felt his stomach drop a little. She had been his, was his girl. They were going to argue and then sort it all out like he always did with everyone, were going to end up back in his room with his hand around her throat as he buried himself deep inside of her just the way she liked it..

Except maybe they weren’t. Was it possible that he had gone too far this time? That this girl wouldn’t forgive him? Did she… did she prefer Josh?

“Whatever.” Andy shook his head and muttered to himself before he walked to the vocal booth, “someone record my vocal track for this stupid song.”

Josh smirked as he turned to Danny, reluctantly moving his hands from her and smiling as she sat back next to him, their knees touching.

The boys chose dinner while Andy recorded a vocal track that was about himself, and when the food arrived they all sat around the dining table.

“Well isn’t this civilised..” Juliet spoke as they handed around boxes of mu shu pork and noodles. Victoria chuckled, picking up a piece of pork from Josh’s plate with a grin and he looked up at her with a mock shocked face. Andy sat opposite them, quiet for once and seething with anger at what was happening in front of him.

“Yeah.. super civilised..” Danny spoke, smirking as he watch Josh steal from Victoria’s plate, and Andy flicked a song on the sonos, staring at his plate as they ate.

Victoria couldn’t help but feel the butterflies again as she sat next to Josh, each touch of their knees to each other’s, each playful grin bringing her closer to him. He had taken her broken heart and held it so it couldn’t break further, and although she was still hurting she was more than happy to trust him with it. He always had made her happier than anyone else, now she felt like she was allowed to let it show.

After a few bottles of red between them, Andy stood and left his plate, grabbing his jacket from where he had left it on the couch.

“Where you going?” Danny called after him but was met only with the front door slamming as a response.

“Probably going to pick up..” Victoria spoke with a sigh, sipping her wine and shrugging.

“Are we gonna talk about how much of a problem he has?” Juliet spoke, the Malbec making her bolder than she would be usually. Danny and Josh made eyes at each other and shuffled uncomfortably, “I mean I know you guys want to stay out of it but half the reason he fucked over Vic is because he’s high all the time..”

“King…” Victoria started and she shook her head.

“No, Vic someone has to say it. He thinks he’s invincible because he does about a gram a day and everyone’s just acting like he’s fine..”

“He is getting worse..” Danny spoke, and Josh nodded in agreement, his arm moving to rest on the back of Victoria’s chair, his thumb absentmindedly running along the back of her neck. Victoria’s body erupted with goosebumps, and she couldn’t concentrate on such a serious conversation when both him and the wine were lulling her into an almost meditative state.

“I’m not talking to him, I’ll end up punching the guy..” Josh spoke and Danny sighed, clenching his jaw in an obvious sign of frustration. He was always the one that had to be impartial, and while he didn’t mind for the sake of keeping the peace it did get a little tiring.

“Fine, I’ll speak to him. But it’s not going to do any good, not when him and Vic are still not talking.” He shrugged and sipped his wine, Victoria immediately feeling uncomfortable. She knew that she had been something of an anchor to Andy, that while he had been making her do more drugs than she was used to, he also did less than normal when he was with her.

“He’s going to have to get over it, I’m not letting him get away with hurting me like that..” she spoke, and was glad for Josh’s hand moving so he could grab his glass. His smooth and soft movements were enough to make her heart beat faster, and she wasn’t sure she would be able to hold back if he touched her like that again. She had been so hurt and didn’t want to jump back into anything, but it was so hard to resist someone who looked after her, who cared for her so well.

“I’ve got these tickets to visit Abbey Road and have a tour. Why don’t we go, and while we’re gone Dan can speak to Andy and get him to lay off hm?” Josh spoke, placing his glass down and returning his hand to the back of her chair.

Juliet looked between them, shaking her head and smiling into her wine glass. Was it clear to the two of them how much they were acting like a couple? Could they remove themselves from the situation enough to see how perfect they would be if they just gave into their affections?

“Sure..” Victoria spoke, and Josh smiled in a way that made her stomach do a backflip. When did everything that he did become so damn attractive or cute? She was sure this wasn’t an issue before, that she had known he was hot and had stared at his lips on one too many an occasion but this was a whole new level.

She was falling for him.

[golden-affinity]

wacko story time

i’ve never properly told all my shit in 1 shot. it’s very hard to keep track when you suddenly remember more and more details and the story side tracks way way too much. i will try to keep it as on track as possible. i will also do this in narrative form. one of the therapist said that it is a way to relive it and stay sane.

also this is more for myself than anything so there will be spelling errors and poor sentence structure and bad punctuation so skip this eyesore of a pity party lmao

but if u actly read it pls dm me so i can kno your thoughts it will help me alot thx

Where do i begin? 

I used to know this girl. Terribly shy. Terribly insecure. Even at a young age. All she ever wanted was attention from her family. Both her parents worked long hours, so she and her twin sister were under the care of their grandparents. 

It was trying being a twin. Perhaps that was where the attention seeking began. They had to share everything. Clothes, shoes, books, a room, attention, birthdays, school, friends. Everything. Normally it would have a novelty. A norm. Children do not know any better. 

The difference in their upbringing was their grandparents. Don’t get me wrong; they had an incredibly privileged life. Home-cooked meals 3 times a day. Toys, books, clothes, a roof over their head. Prestigious education. Loving parents. They were undeniably sheltered. No abuse, no neglect, no suffering.

A perfect life. A perfect upbringing. But not so perfect in hindsight.

Their grandparents, especially their grandmother, was very stern and undeniably manipulative. All their actions and words worked in the undercurrent of their psyche. Reaching and pulling and stretching. Planting doubt, fear, mistrust in each other. They liked to compare the twins. They liked to turn them against each other. Was it out of a misplaced affection? Was it out of simplistic glee at seeing two powerless beings getting confused, like how one would play the magic blanket game with their pets? Or was it born of something more toxic?

In time the girls will learn that their grandmother has a massive inferiority complex and narcissistic tendencies. In current times, it has changed her into a hypochondriac.

But back when they were just 5 years of age, they didn’t know better. They didn’t understand that adults can be wrong. That adults can lie. That adults can be mean. Manipulative. Toxic.

They didn’t know any better. So they trusted. She trusted and believed everything her grandmother told her.

You were adopted, taken from the rubbish bin

Your temper is so bad, why would your parents want you? 

They have your perfect sister.

That is why you are twins. To be replaceable

You are the bad twin.

Your sister got a punishment because of you.

You are the one that always gets her into trouble

You have to watch or diet or you will grow fat

You shouldn’t bathe in hot water or your skin will have wrinkles

When we die, you are going to be very happy right? Because there will be so many sweets (Chinese funeral style)

We don’t know when we are going to die and you are always so rude.

You will regret this

Study harder or your parents won’t love you

You are not doing as well as your sister, your parents won’t love you

If you don’t listen to me, your parents won’t love you

She grew up with massive abandonment issues. And a constant nagging thought of being better. Doing better. Or she will be left behind. Alone. Unloved. Unwanted. Back to the trash where her grandmother told her she was from

Adults don’t lie right? Children do not know any better.

And a handful of incidents proved that inkling in her head - that she was unloved. Unwanted.

When she was 8, she threw and tantrum and got punished by standing in a corner. To retaliate, to seek attention, she scratched her face multiple times. Her father and grandmother saw the aftermath and asked her what happened. To her surprise, she had managed to calm down, by hurting herself, and calmly told them that she cried too much. They relented and relieved her of her punishment. This was her first instance of self harm. And it took root as a viable coping mechanism.

When she was 10, she lost a table tennis game and threw her temper at her mother in public. She screamed and yelled when all she wanted was for someone to hold her, sit her down and ask her what was wrong. Why did she care so much over a stupid game? All she wanted was understanding. But she did not know how to articulate. She was consumed with fear and shame over losing. She handled it by screaming. Shouting. rage as a mask

And then her father slapped her, for the first and last time in her life. She was shocked into silence. That was the first time she actively disassociated. She hadn’t named Claire yet but someone else took over and shut down all her feelings.

The slap scared her. The blackout became rooted deep in her psyche. Even till now, more than a decade later, a man slamming the desk, her husband punching the wall, ignites a knee-jerk reaction to cower. To run. To hide. To self soothe. To let Claire take over

Its ok its ok its ok its ok you have me. Its ok its ok its ok its ok. I’m here for you. And no one else is. Listen to me. Believe me. You have me. only me. I will look after you.

Adults are human too, she knows that now. But what is that to a sensitive, insecure, introverted child?

What is that to a girl who was brought up, loved in all senses, but being constantly told that she wasn’t?

She internalised it all. Struggled with it by herself. She didn’t understand what had gone wrong. What she had done wrong. She became scared to talk about her feelings. Angry with herself for being ungrateful, as she has been told. Upset for not understanding why she hated herself more and more and more. 

And when she was 13, she finally turned to self harm by cutting.

It was a relief to see the blood. The scars. To see the aftermath of her self-punishment. Tangible results of the mess in her head. The chaos within laid bare on their thighs, her wrists, her arms. She never liked the pain but she felt like she deserved it. When she drew her lines, the pain in her heart diminished. But her self hatred grew.

She hated the attention she got from it. She hated the fact that she was drawing attention. She was failing at keeping this simple thing under wraps. she was angry at her self for drawing attention

so, she stopped. Not because she saw that it was wrong, but because too many people knew and it became burdensome to see the pity, the uncertainty. The horror, the helplessness. The babying. It was never what she wanted. It was all forms of love, but deep in her self hatred, she just wanted to be left alone.

And so everyone thought she was stable and just as she was left alone again, she turned to ED for a coping mechanism.

It was easy. It was simple. Girls diet all the time. No one suspects. Not back then, at least. 

Both her and her twin have always dieted. Even at 7, 8, 9, 10 years old. What else do you do when your grandmother is breathing down your neck telling you to watch your diet?

Anorexia was a hideous, painful journey. More than she bargained for. She did not know the puddle she thought she was wading in was actually a soul-sucking black hole that very few emerge out of. She did not know how deeply ingrained the ED thoughts would envelope her mind like a parasite, surfacing in times of weakness and uncertainty. She did not know that this coping mechanism would become an addiction for years and years to come.

From scars to numbers. One hyper fixation after another. 

And all this, because of her biggest insecurity - abandonment. 

She had to be perfect. All the time. Or she would be left behind.

By who? Whom? What? How? Why?

She lost track of it all. All she knew was chasing down self punishment in times of imperfection and that very same self punishment became a drug for her masochistic mind.

She lost track of the friends who stood by her. Of her family that still loves her. Of her mum that visited her everyday in the hospital. Of the teachers who took personal time to visit her, talk to her, counsel her.

Her black hole of self punishment was consuming her.

And yet, no one gave up on her. And in moments of clarity she saw that and did her best to fight back. It took another 3 years before she got out but she did.

And this is where you cue a happy ending.

She still had abandonment issues but they were dissipating. She still had massive trust issues but she was actively trying to combat them. Things were looking up. And in all that time spent in her head, she came to peace with her other self. The one that encourages ED and self harm to take away the emotional pain. For a while, her 2 selves came to an understanding that anxiety and embarrassment and pain is a part of life. She also realised what she wanted to do with her life. She grew so much, from the girl she once was.

That was until her cousin screwed it all up by loving her

more than he should have

[abitterlifethroughcinema]

Three (+1) Movies You Ought to Catch This Week!

                     WOKE! Film Reviews

                                    by

                        Lucas A Cavazos

Widows #### Steve McQueen has really begun to whet his appetite on fare that is directly in tune with things people need or want to see at the time of release. After his last film Twelve Years a Slave swept the Oscar a few years back, the industry sat on its laurels while Trump took office and the British McQueen took to work on this stellar heist film.  In this case, we are going to take a look into the deeper side of inner-city Chicago, fusing ward life, a quatrain of husbands’ deaths, politics and a smidgen of church and family…life, that is to say. What you see and what you get is sure fire suspense and a feeling that the gals behind Ocean’s 8 some months back may have preferred being in this caper. Viola Davis, Michelle Rodriguez, Elizabeth Debicki and Carrie Coon make up the ‘widows’ of this film, whose hubbies are knocked off during a heist gone awry in an incredible action sequence which commences the film, truly brilliant. When Veronica Rawlings (Davis) is accosted at home, she discovers her husband’s original plans by searching their private bank vault and, as well as, finding nudie pics of a hotshot politician, she takes it upon herself to contact the ladies of the men who were killed along with her husband, played by Liam Neeson incidentally, if even but for a moment. On the other hand runs a political theme, which finds such skilled hands under the direction of McQueen, whose mastery of highlighting the linear aspects of the characters truly identify the black vs. white drama which ensues even today in the USA. The fact that he uses its most violent city as its backdrop is perfectly poignant. Robert Duvall and Colin Farrell play politicos who want to get the black vote stabilised under their control throughout the wards of Chicago, and though Farrell is slightly annoying, the fact that their surname is Mulligan says it all, frankly. There are some moments of lull and formulaic scenes once the heist plans are laid bare and set in to action, but one can NOT help feel a sense of internal “Hell Yeah, baby!” when the going gets tough towards the film’s end. McQueen has found a perfect recipe to fuse important elements that will attract modern US society and Lawd knows the masses are likely to show up in droves. (Now playing across Catalonia and Spain)

Fantasic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald ###  The last time I critiqued J.K. Rowling’s last big production, I was writing for the local English magazine, and I recall sitting in the screening thinking, “Did I shave my legs for this trite shite?” That said, it is a good thing that director David Yates has returned from his Harry Potter daze to take the reins of this saga…or is that me being too kind? With a running theme that implies the horrid nature of racism, which is at least one positive about the film, and decent performances by Johnny Depp and Eddie Redmayne are quite well done to be sure, the film does not turn into a total snore-fest, but it is still no way near the bravado of Rowling’s original efforts with Harry and his mates. This time around, we find the oddly-named Newt Scamander (I mean, honestly!), played by Redmayne, seeking a way to re-instate his passport availability, and when he is charged with the task of protecting Credence Barebone (again with these bloody names!), the child with an obscurial, which harnesses his rage and can turn it into a ghastly and scary power force, he gets to move on and travel to Paris. All of this is to thwart the malevolent advances of a dark villain known as Gellert Grindelwald (Depp). Ugh…we all still together here? Well then comes the unknown myths and history explained in flashbacks, as well as, the dubious nature of this young Barebone, who is adopted, and this is when Rowling’s famed sociological study comes out referencing bloodlines and the nature of family. I actually started to enjoy the film as this corner was turned….but so long into an already long film also serves to show us what is coming up short. That would be  that when telling such a daunting tale with oh-so-many back stories, there needs to be a stronger semblance of coherence. What we had with the Potter series (which was an aide) was that we could always turn to the books to remember and recall scenes and background. We don’t have that with Fantastic Beasts, and the fact that there could be more of this makes me less than desirous to see what happens with Newt and his admirable cronies-in-good. (Now playing across Catalonia and Spain)

Bad Times at the El Royale ###-1/2   Starring a host of insanely good actors in a mondo bizarro film, Bad Times takes one on a trip fuelled by 90s indie darlings like Tarantino mixed with a dash of Bates Motel depression and a tinge of the crazy claustrophobia of Oliver Stone’s U-Turn, and it is a wild ride, trust; so those attending should be duly noted and not be too sober. The name comes from a Lake Tahoe-based hotel set in kitsch 60s decor, with on e wing of the hotel in California and another in Nevada, therefore permitting casino-style slots and action. Told in notable-titled chapters, director Drew Goddard tells us the story of singer Darlene Sweet (the amazing Cynthia Ervio), who arrives at the hotel with a contract to sing at some Reno dive. Jeff Bridges plays a priest, Jon Hamm a vacuum cleaner salesman, and Dakota Johnson as a sociopathic-leaning hippie. Throw in Chris Hemsworth as a hippie-like action cult leader, and you get some good Hollywood acting fodder. Erivo shines (she also is brilliant in the aforementioned Widows, reviewed above!) as Darlene, and her vocals throughout the film, which itself is infused with 60s soul tunes, make the death scenes and splatter ones all the more so palatable if still creepy and gruesome. The film begins with someone undoing a room in the tacky-ass hotel and burying a case full of money, only to then re-put the room into proper order. Thereby, time apparently passes and the motley crew that assemble at the cursed hotel find that hey are in for the pounding of a lifetime. This film would have been much relished had it come out 20 years ago, and so I’m curious to see how audiences and other critics react to and interpret Goddard and cast’s thrilling kill-fest because nothing is quite what it seems, and the intensity behind what may or may not come is hauntingly spooky yet oddly familiar somehow. (Now playing select theatres in parts of Catalonia and Spain)

Our New President ###-1/2   Premiering in Spain at L’Alternativa a couple of weeks back, this little-seen but oh so well-done documentary focuses on something many of us have not seen or heard…the Russian news outlet view of the Presidential elections of 2016. Director Maxim Pozdorovkin has taken scores of scenes from Russian news, as well as, detailing many of the minds behind the production and presentation of said “news,” thrown it in a blender and then methodically played out all these scenes to us, the stunned and often enraged viewer. What makes this doc so spellbinding is that there are no (virtually none, anyway) inklings to the US and its view of the campaigns. Within 20/25 minutes, we see that everything we presumed about Russian interference and aid to Trump for his election were quite obviously happening. It is a true mind fuck, and I do not use that word-phrase lightly! Some of the newscasts and reports that were so staunchly in favour of The Orange One and hyping Hillary as Killary. What starts off as a rather odd, even unmotivated doc, soon turns into a full assault of the political senses, and I urge everyone reading this to check it out. (Now available VOD)

[survivor-hosts]

Ep. #7: “C’mon Rat, Follow the Cheese” - Jessy

The tribes merged and all of the pre-mergers were added to the merge tribe as the Karma Island twist was revealed.  The players started campaigning to get back in and Cat, Austin, and Drew chose to drop out and become voters.  After a whole day of scrambling and a messy voting situation, Connor was voted back into the game.  The tribe was given their first immunity challenge and Matt was able to solve it and win immunity quite quickly.  After no one talked the day before the vote, the players started scrambling last minute with one side trying to decide whether to vote off Sam or MJ while the opposing side was trying to decide between Allison or Connor.  In the end, MJ and Sam's alliance threw their votes on Andrew to thwart any posisble idol play.  Sam also used her vote negator to cancel Allison's vote for MJ.  Andrew was sent home in a 5-4 vote.

HAHAHAHAHA so it's 9:58 and I should go to tribal and I was on call with Connah and then Lydia and MJ called and added Connah and MJ told me I might be getting votes so I might be getting voted out idk adios fuck this shit!

Can't wait to be seventh boot

[12:51:33 PM] mj ultra . _/: bih wtf. [12:51:39 PM] connah. i guess.: I didn't do anything. [12:51:40 PM] mj ultra . _/: oh you really wanna fight me tonight huh yes bitch i do. yes we are in a partnership but i'm not your bitch. i'm not gonna sit here and do everything you want but it's fine because people will hopefully see you as a bigger threat so if they gonna try take one of us out... can't say i'm too sorry about it. his ass wants to sit here and vote lydia back when we literally just voted her out? i see where he's coming from because we might be able to use lydia tbh but he's literally shutting down any ideas i had so i'm kinda angry rn.

mj's gameplay has really rubbed off on me... my ass just blindsided lydia and now i'm really down for voting her back in? i had my fun pre-merge but now it's time to really get this shit going

http://prntscr.com/fn4qxy http://prntscr.com/fn4r1v At first I thought Connor would have the highest chance of returning but after hearing a few things I think REGAN has the best shot??? When and how did that happen?

Hmmmmm I'm feeling really weird in this tribe. It's as if I don't belong.....That's the vibe I'm getting. Whatever. I'm sticking to my strategy of not talking to people. Hey it worked TWICE and got me to the end twice. It works. People come to me with information at once. I hope I can pull it off again.

so like I mighta just made a chat with myself Scott jessy Allison josh and Connor to save Connor bc David was a bust. Highkey still don't trust Scott and sam Matt mj and connah are trying for Lydia and I'm like no fuck off? When the phone battery goes down my chaotic gameplay goes up. Like idc whomstve is gonna be pissed i am GETTING Connor in this game. Drew and cat should have sacrificed themselves for him too so here's to fucking hoping. If Lydia comes in I'm dead straight up gay up!

push me to the edge i wish i was dead why is scott a snake scott u little snake push me to the edge i wish i was dead lydia im the wrong connor please stop making my life harder push me to the edge mask off, task off back off, mask off i dont really care that im crying but i really care that youre lying edge dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun mask off, task off

i have lost all my motivation. i am a shell of a man i used to be

i am fucked. if i somehow get out of this mess i got myself into it would be a miracle.

Okay it's time for my second confessional because it's getting really hard dealing with these people and I need to vent. Like I really cannot.

After the Lydia vote off succeeded I tried to do major damage control with Matt and Scott. They both seemed to understand but I know they don't trust me anymore. Iit's not like they even realistically did. Maybe Matt did, but his reaction really shows his game. Scott seems to think he can snake his way around the two alliances but I'll bring up that later in this confessional. Anyways, it's announced that Karma Island is in play and immediately I'm worried. I fell into a position where I had to lead on Connor, David and Regan all at once because I legitimately had no idea who I wanted to return. I received information from Scott that MJ was on call with Sam and Lydia. They were

[4:26:26 AM] Jessy: i have some tea ladies! [4:27:05 AM] Jessy: So Scott is playing both sides. [4:27:09 AM] Jessy: and MJ/Connah/Josh are too. [4:27:21 AM] Jessy: MJ wants me to stay so he can use me for next tribal to get Sam out.. [4:27:26 AM] Jessy: But sis he has another thing coming. [4:29:43 AM] Jessy: sam acts like a 4 year old [4:29:47 AM] Jessy: "jessy probs just wants all of us on jury bc we're the ppl who knew her pregame so we'd give her our jury votes" [4:29:52 AM] Jessy: she said this [4:29:57 AM] Jessy: like no i want u on prejury [4:29:58 AM] Jessy: zzksjksksks [4:42:41 AM] Jessy: mj and connah rlly think they're so smart huh [4:42:42 AM] Jessy: like ur not. [4:42:42 AM] Jessy: BKLMASDFMKLDSMKLA [4:42:46 AM] Jessy: i literally know what ur doing [4:43:03 AM] Jessy: this is ur mo mj... [4:43:05 AM] Jessy: ur forcing myself into a situation where i have to go w/ him b/c my numbers are cut. [4:44:25 AM] Jessy: Like I know he's pitting me against Samatthew by telling me this information [4:44:29 AM] Jessy: But like.. [4:44:37 AM] Jessy: Damn they're literally Spencer and Tasha [4:52:02 AM] Jessy: I'm reading their games to filth. [8:18:39 AM] Jessy: me again [8:21:05 AM] Jessy: God why'd i tell connor i heard his name [8:21:06 AM] Jessy: LSJLSSKKSKS [9:52:09 AM] Jessy: SCOTT IS SUCH A FUCKING LIAR [9:59:32 AM] Jessy: time to get reads [9:59:35 AM] Jessy: and intel! [9:59:41 AM] Jessy: im legit gonna interrogate him idc [10:01:03 AM] Jessy: Nancy Drew who???? [10:01:16 AM] Jessy: im GETTING the dirt. [10:01:24 AM] Jessy: spill the beans! [10:01:50 AM] Jessy: seeing Scott is typing... answering my questions is so funny [10:01:57 AM] Jessy: Like ur nervous huh sis [10:03:32 AM] Jessy: does scott really think ill eat the bullshit hes putting out for me on a platter rn? [10:03:37 AM] Jessy: Like bitch what the fuck LAKSKSKKSKS [10:08:25 AM] Jessy: OK SCOTT IS LYING OUT OF HIS ASS [10:08:29 AM] Jessy: IM SICK OF IT [10:08:35 AM] Jessy: HOW DOES MJ KNOW U WERE HIGH THEN [10:08:44 AM] Jessy: LIKE UGH !!! [10:09:53 AM] Jessy: ok sam could've told mj! [10:09:57 AM] Jessy: interesting! [10:14:37 AM] Jessy: mj and scott together ? conspiracy theory ? [10:18:18 AM] Jessy: Oh yeah, I also found out last night that josh did vote for Lydia, but Connah switched his vote from Lydia to Connor and Trevor wouldn't allow him to change it back [10:18:26 AM] Jessy: i thought sam was being distant huh scott [10:20:12 AM] Jessy: There's holes in this scheme. [10:22:32 AM] Jessy: "Same" [10:22:34 AM] Jessy: keh [10:22:51 AM] Jessy: guess i'm done here. [10:23:51 AM] Trevor [Host of Hosts]: I'm samatthew [10:24:27 AM] Jessy: theyre literally spencer and tasha [10:24:32 AM] Jessy: mj is a cheap version of jeremy [10:26:00 AM] Trevor [Host of Hosts]: Who are you [10:26:45 AM] Jessy: i wanna say kelley but i don't wanna be cocky like matt

This is a recap on what happened before the Karma Vote. One reason is so that I can look back on it and the other is for Connor to read in the future. This is 100% what happened. Lydia made her pitch to me around noon yesterday and she had made valid points and I wouldn't mind her being back but my vote is locked to Connor at that point though I was still willing to listen to her so I can get info out of her. I messaged Connah a little later and he said he was going to vote Lydia back in so I had an inkling that something's up but shrugged it off because there's no way Lydia's coming back it's just not in the numbers. I went to bed and woke up at 6am with a bunch of messages and one of them was Lydia asking to call. I told her I only woke up randomly and was planning on sleeping a little bit more. I didn't know the vote was due at 8 and I woke up 30 minutes before the deadline. Jessy messaged me asking if MJ had come up to me and asked if Lydia's being voted back in and I said no because MJ and I haven't talked yet. A little while, Andrew messaged me asking who to vote and I said Connor and then I got added to the Saving Connor chat with Scott, Jessy, Allison and Connor. What surprised me the most is why Scott is there. I didn't understand. Next, MJ messaged me asking for my vote so that we can tie between Lydia and Connor. Now the thing is, I told them I would vote whatever they want to but my vote is locked to Connor unless they absolutely needed it because they're the two people I trusted the most in this game. And they really did need it. I went on call with Connor and told him that everyone's pulling my leg getting me to vote with them and then got on call with Connah making his case to me with Lydia and Lydia's on my pms making her case again and Scott and I were trying to figure out how we're going to go and mind you this is literally 5 minutes before the deadline and at that point everyone thought we could change votes. I was freaking out everyone was talking to me at the same time I felt very pressured that I just asked Scott to make a decision for me and he won't decide for me and Connah just started to tell me VOTE LYDIA VOTE LYDIA and without hesitation I changed. Now obviously that didn't fall through because Connor came back and he found out I changed my vote. Now he doesn't want to speak to me and probably burned my bridge with him and idk about the status of our friendship right now. I spilled so much critical information on Connor and if we went our separate ways and uses those against me then I'm fucked. I mentioned to Connor how I wanted to target Jessy because of how good she is and if that gets back to her than she's going to turn on me. My hope is that MJ, Sam, Scott, Connah and Matt form a 6 person alliance to get past this round. This game is taking a toll on me emotionally and I've been struggling to play since the first few days. I wasn't like this before. It isn't worth it. It's not worth it to lose a friendship over this. It's easy to say that you need to cut ties and turn the heart off but doing it for real is different. Connor, my explanation is probably something you did not want to hear and it's probably going to re-open wounds once this game is over because looking back on it now, the decision was stupid. It didn't have to be that way but I gave in because of pressure.

Honestly.... I just feel so defeated. I don't see myself really doing as great as I would have wanted to in this game, which is such a pessimistic way to think but its true. Like if I were to be going home tomorrow I wouldn't even care that I didn't make the jury. A lot just went down these past few days that made me realize why I retired in the first place. So to really go back, Lydia was blindsided. Not surprised that it happened cause I knew something fishy was going on, but surprised that out of everyone I was the most left out of the loop. Like no one bothered to tell me that the vote was getting split between Allison and Andrew. Like when Lydia left Jessy and Andrew had me on call and explained everything to me and why they did what they did. And like I'm really not mad at them for doing so. I think it was amazing on their part that they pulled it off. They told me how MJ and Connah were really wanting to get Lydia out, which caught me by surprise cause I thought they were really close. Afterwards, Sam gets me on call and is worried about what could happen in the future and who we have with us. And to my surprise, Matt Summers actually talked strategy with me for the first time. The story I got from them was that Jessy approached them and got them involved with voting Lydia. To make matters worse, we have to vote someone back into this game thanks to Karma Island. And I feel like this is gonna make things so much worse cause I'm starting to realize I only have myself in this game. Idk like in Maluku flipping was easy cause I had Maria and Mattica who I trusted more than anyone. I don't really trust anyone in this game, so it makes everything 10x worse. Connor talked to me and told me he doesn't hold that against me, and idk part of me really thinks if he IS going to come back, I need to vote him so I can prove to him that I can be someone he can actually work with later on. Especially with MJ/Connah/Sam/Matt being a sinking ship, I just feel like I need to find other resources when I need to. Plus the only person I trust in that group is Sam, and after hearing that MJ has wanted me out of this game for awhile now I don't see why I need to stick my neck out for them. That whole voting process was such a mess because I really didn't know what to do with all of that. Like I voted for Connor cause I was sure he was getting in, then Josh comes to me and says he didn't know what to do. Which like RIP cause I thought he already voted, and to make matter worse he told lydia and lydia went off on me in the pms. And like, the fact that this all went down when I was out with friends just made me realize that I'm too invested in this game and that I left for a reason. Idk the only reason why Connor is back is because Connah changed his vote and wasnt allowed to switch back. I'm just annoyed cause I'm really fucked in this game to the point of no return. And like Sam and them are trying to make sure I'm gonna vote with them but with Lydia out and the only person on that side i actually consider an ally being Sam, it just makes sense for me to go through with what I've been wanting to do for awhile and flip with Jessy and Andrew.

"fifth vote... lydia"

what the fuck is going on why is no one talking to me. fucking hell man, and then im gonna wake up again and have a shit ton of messages waiting for me when i check my phone. everything's happening at the very last minute in this game omg.

YALL TRIBAL IS  11 HOURS AWAY I DONT KNOW WHAT I'M GONNA DO AND IM GONNA BE ASLEEP IN 9 OF THOSE HOURS. FUCK IT.

you know how it'd be fun if i just go ghost the whole morning tomorrow lkfjskjdfhskjfs *deletes Skype*

OKA Y BUT S ERIOUSLY im sick and tired of waking up in the morning where a plan has already been made and i have no say in it. fuck it a guy needs his sleep its yalls fault for not making a plan during our off day ! btw if i get voted out tomorrow im gonna be salty af trevor why did you have to have the first merge boot not a jury member i dont want to miss out on JURY! !!!!!

everyone is getting on my god damn nerves TODAY !

On 25/06/2017, at 8:30 PM, connor wrote: > hi background music plays: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cpLU8BI02wQ

Okay so I just laid out all the info I got today. I talked to Scott this morning I said does he know for sure Sam has a vote negator or is it a hunch? He said it was a hunch and he doesn't really know, so I got sus. He was high last night so maybe he let it slip MJ told me that Scott was high last night so I wanted to find a way to vertify what he said about Scott/Sam/Matt/MJ/Connah being all on a group call [6/24/2017 10:09:30 AM] Jessy: did you tell anyone you were high LMAOOOOO i'd be so non functional if i was high and game talking [6/24/2017 10:09:40 AM] Scott: I mean I told sam It's possible that Scott is either lying about him telling Sam specifically, or Sam just told MJ that Scott was high and he happened to tell me this He said this when I asked him about the Sam call: [6/24/2017 9:51:38 AM] Jessy: did anything important come out of the sam call [6/24/2017 9:51:58 AM] Scott: Honestly it just made me realize that she doesn't trust me [6/24/2017 9:52:17 AM] Jessy: fuck! [6/24/2017 9:52:25 AM] Scott: She asked me what my relationship was with you [6/24/2017 9:53:05 AM] Scott: And if I actually trusted you cause you're known to be deceiving for "organizing the whole Lydia vote and misting MJ/Connah" [6/24/2017 9:53:48 AM] Jessy: :$ would be me if i actually did! [6/24/2017 9:54:07 AM] Jessy: r they voting me [6/24/2017 9:54:25 AM] Scott: I mean we never got around to actually talking about it [6/24/2017 9:54:32 AM] Jessy: oh okay [6/24/2017 9:54:39 AM] Jessy: who do you think she would go for [6/24/2017 9:55:32 AM] Scott: But I wouldn't be surprised if that's what they were wanting to do cause sam really just kept mentioning how I felt about you [6/24/2017 9:57:03 AM] Jessy: that's offputtig [6/24/2017 9:57:08 AM] Jessy: *offputting [6/24/2017 9:58:02 AM] Scott: Yeah, but it's just really clear that damage was done last night so I'm not even sure what's gonna be happening from here on out It made me think that I'm unsure if Scott is just lying about the call or if MJ is just trying to come up with a scenario for me to think is happening so I won't pull any moves. Then, I talked to MJ about the vote and he said that he was going to be on a road trip today so he's probably asleep by now. I talked to Connah about the game while MJ was online and while we were talking about the whole thing of us being on different sides, MJ pmed me. He said he pmed me because Connah sent him a funny quote about a joke I made. Then, I asked him if Connah sent him any game logs. The game logs were about us being on different sides in the Lydia/Connor returnee vote and then he kept on acting like he didn't know who was going to go because no one was talking to him. I asked him if Sam would be a vote he would want, and he said it depends if we have the numbers. He said I have to convince Allison+Andrew+Connor myself because he doesn't want to get himself involved in something controversial this tribal council after last round. I asked MJ about this, and he said Connah specifically said: "idk if I wanna stick with jessy or go with sam" "like I'm just confused" This made me paranoid, because I didn't know if Connah meant "stick with jessy" as a vote or "go with sam" as a vote. It's possible that MJ made it look like he meant regarding alliances and not a vote off, but it still made me paranoid. MJ then told me Connah went on call with Sam. MJ said he asked Connah what was going on and they were just talking about who they wanted to go. MJ said they both leaned towards Connor leaving. MJ then said Connah thought he should go with Sam (as in alliances). MJ said he would try to convince him to "string me along" next round and use me to vote Sam off. MJ then said if Sam convinced Connah to vote for me, he would try to convince him to go after Sam this round. MJ said he would prefer Connor to go now and Sam next round, but he's willing to consider it by starting it off with a conversation with Connah tomorrow. Our conversation ended, and I thought that I should try to message Sam in some way and let her know that I'm "flexible". I then said that people probably think we aren't together in the game and we could play that to our advantage. She said she was down if I was, but proceeding this she kept on saying she didn't know what she wanted to do and that "she has no power to throw out a name." This really annoyed me so I asked her who does and she said she doesn't know. Our conversation ended, but during it Connah messaged me asking me if I'm talking to anyone because it's really quiet. I was feeling a vibe that Sam told Connah she was talking to me, so I told him I was trying to resolve my issues with Sam. It got awkward so our conversation kinda died off. During all this, Andrew, Allison and Connor didn't have a lot to say about anything. Connor said he was at work all day and came back at 10 PM EDT and said sorry he was at work. I said it was okay then asked him if he talked to Josh recently. He never replied and then I asked him again an hour later and still received no reply. Now, Scott says he's back and is messaging my alliance chat with himself and Andrew. I haven't talked to Matt at all this vote. I said hey to Allison in pms but she never replied because I'm pretty sure she's been offline. I haven't talked to Josh either, but I have an opportunity to tonight because it's 2 PM for him in Phillippines.

Decisions, decisions.... I hate my position in this game as the "middle man" Anyways, Jessy/Andrew I think are expecting me to flip and vote Sam with them this round, but tbh I don't think I can flip on Sam and vote her out. Like if she goes, I don't want to be apart of that just because she trusts me a lot with her game. However, if they can manage to get her out this round I'm all theirs. Sam/MJ and co. said they want to do Allison, and because I don't trust Allison i think it might be safest for me to just vote her out and only flip if they're wanting to vote out Jessy/Andrew. Also spoke on call with Connor and hes trying to convince me to flip. The only way I see myself voting with them is if they vote MJ. But I just don't think that is realistic since Jessy is set on voting Sam. Which I personally cannot do since she is the only one I trust on that other side. Idk its all very up in the air, hopefully it isnt me that goes

9wegwpirangwfj tribals in an hour and a half and I really don't know what I'm gonna do. Apparently Josh would be okay with voting out MJ but I'm not sure if he really would. Part of me is thinking I should just vote Allison and if it ties, then I flip cause I don't wanna be rocked out pre-jury, especially since the only person I trust on Sam and Co side is Sam. I just know this is gonna be one huge clusterfuck

So.... much.... stress.... Josh and I agreed on just voting with the separate blocks, but I forgot that Sam has a vote negator so now I have to decide if I'm actually gonna go through with that plan or just flip and vote MJ. hregehgoihiqrehie I HATE THIS GAME

This game? Is crazy. I want to die. Somehow, through almost FIVE HOURS of acumalitive calls, I have managed to flip Josh and Scott so that we have majority. MJ SHOULD be going home. I literally did that. Like, i LITERALLY did THAT. Good god. Fingers crossed. It just makes sense? With MJ being a winner already and very good at flipping votes and winning challenges, we have the time to take him out so lets do it. Sam would be easier to vote out and I know Jessy wanted to, but with Matt having another idol and being immune, the two of them are too close for comfort. Actually, this entire game is too close for comfort. end my life.

why am i in the middle. i mean i guess i should count my blessings because i'm not getting voted out but this is such a hard position to be in