#this barbie... i mean princess sets stuff on fire

[cantspelldragoonwithoutgoon]

"Quick, cast regen!"

"Best I can do is mana ward."

"What?"

"What?"

"What?"

"This isn't a healer outfit."

The elezen are still cosplaying FFI :x

Blue healer... I mean Paladin Finnoix belongs to @aethericfist

[nancypullen]

Last Weekend

Who has two thumbs and got to have two birthdays this year? This girl!  There is absolutely no good reason for a woman my age to have two birthdays in  the span of a week - but that’s what happened.  Because the Edgewater Pullens are busy, busy people with many commitments, they were pulled in several directions on the weekend of my birthday.  I assured Tyler that my big plans were shopping for yews and decorating for fall. I mean, I was turning 59, it’s not like we had a bouncy house and a piñata waiting.  So they arrived this past Saturday with my favorite girl, and had packed their pizza oven and this delicious cake.

Four layers of deliciousness topped with petits fours and macarons. Holy cow! Before slicing that cake the Edgewaters fired up their pizza oven and produced pie after pie of gourmet pizza. I didn’t lift a finger!  My favorite is their fig, feta, and walnut pizza with a little honey drizzle.  It’s out of this world!  Jamie makes her own pizza dough and it’s perfect.  Tyler whacks them into the oven and it takes about 90 seconds to achieve perfection.  They’re quite a team. A funny card with an Etsy gift certificate made me a little emotional.  It’s hard learning to receive from your kids, it’s supposed to be the other way around.  It makes me uncomfortable when I think of them spending their money on me, I’d rather they reward themselves with a treat for their hard work, or pick up a delicious dinner on a busy day when they don’t feel like cooking.  They’re so sweet to me and I’m not sure I’ll ever find a way to thank them enough.

Anyway, we had a wonderful weekend. Our grandgirl (and oh, she IS grand!) has inherited a bit of my love for Halloween, spooky stuff, and witches. I swear, I didn’t push any of that on her, she found her way to the light on her own.  Look at this adorable pumpkin she painted for me!

Also, when we were in her room playing Barbies (we are always getting ready for a ball, that’s the script every time) she added a character to the mix. Meet Griselda.  She was the apple vendor at the ball. There were princesses dropping left and right.

At least when they were felled by poison apples they looked good. We spend copious amounts of time choosing dresses and accessories.

That’s how we set up the dress shop. Accessories are sorted into categories - shoes, jewelry, tiaras, purses.  Those gowns? You can buy a bundle of 6 for about $7.99 on Amazon. They even come with bags of accessories.  They’re easy for little fingers to get on and off the dolls because they just have a velcro closure in the back. She loves ‘em.  I also bought some cheap furniture so the dolls can lounge with refreshments between shopping trips.  See where their house is located?

Everything stores in that nightstand! So convenient. But it’s not all gowns and crowns.  Well, it is most of the time, but we do play board games, play outside (though it was a rainy weekend), make Play-Doh cookies and pizzas, and all sorts of other fun stuff.  At this age everything  is an educational experience. Shopping for ball gowns? Let’s talk about prices, how much we have to spend, colors, sharing, etc.  Board games are great for that too, plenty of opportunities for counting, drawing conclusions, taking turns, learning to win and lose well, and so on.  Here’s a little something that was cheap to make and fun to do.  

Draw a face, number some strips of paper one through six and tape or glue them on, then grab some dice (you only need one) and some kids’ safety scissors.  They roll the dice, identify the number, and then take a snip from that strip.  They get to match the dots to actual numbers while working on scissor skills.  In educator terms, this also helps with subitizing. That’s when we can accurately recognize a number of something without actually stopping to count. “Hey, look at those three horses.” or “Did you see those two big pumpkins?” Our brain does the work without us having to count off the items.  It was fascinating to watch how quickly the grandgirl started recognizing the dot patterns as three or five, etc.  It’s just repetition and because there are quite a few numbers to snip, it works.  It’s also good for some giggles as the haircut starts to look a little crazy.  Considering that she’s only four and there are thirty-six dice rolls required to finish the game, it was not instant gratification but she stayed engaged the whole time. That’s a win.  I know that she gets plenty of instruction at her preschool, so I don’t go heavy on this stuff.  It’s her weekend too and no one wants to work on the weekend, right?  She’s so smart, her little brain is just a sponge. Nothing wrong with a break. Besides, it’s just as important to encourage imagination as it is to feed them curriculum.  Did I mention that she thinks we have a dungeon? This summer she noticed the vents around the foundation of the house and asked what was in there.  I may have nonchalantly replied, “Oh, that’s just the dungeon.”  Without batting an eye she asked, “Is there anyone in it?”  So of course I said, “Well, Grandpa threw the garbage man in there for being late.”  Sorry, it was the first thing that came to mind.  Our town garbage service was struggling at the time and they weren’t picking up on our scheduled day.  It’s since been resolved, but my precious and beautiful grandgirl was fine with him being in there.  She’d peer into the darkness of the vent and say that she was pretty sure she could see him.  I’d always say things like, “I’d better remind Grandpa to let him out.”  She asked if we could open the door to the dungeon and I’d say that we’d definitely do that when the weather cooled off a bit.  Well, the weather cooled off.  Don’t doubt for a minute that Grandpa and Grancy had a plan.  Remember, this girl likes to be spooked.  Grandpa bought some Halloween bones at Walmart.  If I’d planned better I would have purchased a work shirt with a name tag from Goodwill.  But the bones were enough.  This weekend while I was upstairs playing dress shop with little miss, I sent a text to the mister.

Now, before you call social services you should know that we traumatized our own children the same way and they are both perfectly normal...ish.   Right in the middle of dithering between a yellow and blue gown, I stopped and said, “Ohmygosh, *insertname*! I just realized that Grandpa never let the garbage man out of the dungeon!”  Without missing a beat our little Wednesday Addams said, “Let’s go look.”  So we marched downstairs and alerted Grandpa to the potentially dire situation in the dungeon.  The grandgirl was determined to lead the expedition and had a flashlight in hand.  We went outside into the chilly drizzle and started for the side of the house.  She stopped and snapped a stick over one knee proclaiming, “If there are spiders I’ll knock down the webs with this stick!”  I applauded her courage. It’s a wonderful coincidence that the door to the crawlspace is a heavy metal thing that you have to slide away - very creepy and dungeon-like.  As Grandpa slowly slid the door aside and the bones were revealed, her eyes were as big as saucers.  Then without skipping a beat she said, “Heee’s dead.” the way you might say “All gone!” to a toddler.  Not a bit bothered.  I gave her back a little nudge and said, “Go on in...” and she scrambled back and said, “No way!”  The flashlight clicked off and she suggested we close up the dungeon.  That was that.

She did, however, hang the information over my head for the remainder of the day.  We’d be right in the middle of a bit and if my Barbie was less than cooperative she’d mention that she’d hate to have to talk about the garbage man.  Did my granddaughter just blackmail me?  Pretty sure she’s in on the joke and having a ball with it.  She loves nothing more than to stay in character all day and add to a story.  If not, I’m sure her teachers are getting an earful about the skeleton in our dungeon.  The Caroline County Sheriff’s Department should be showing up any time.  So that was my weekend - cake and corpses. Is there any better way to start October?  I can’t think of one.  I hope your month is off to a beautiful start.  If not, go buy a pumpkin. You can’t be unhappy with a pumpkin on your porch, balcony, or in your window. Heck, just sit it beside your tv and enjoy. Sending out love~~~ Stay safe, stay well, stay spooky!

[annabethy]

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow day 7: wrapping presents

Character can’t wrap gifts to save their life. Character B is their neighbor and can help,, percabeth

Percy should have known what went into being a single dad. He thought he did well enough, all things considered. By no means was he perfect, but he loves his daughter more than anything, and he always does his best.

Still, he did not ever thing that his biggest struggle as a parent would be wrapping presents for Christmas.

The pile of gifts he bought for his daughter sit in front of him, staring right into his soul. It’s embarrassing, because in his twenty-six years of life, he really hadn’t learned to wrap a present. It’s not like it’s a difficult concept — he is just severely incapable of making anything look pretty with wrapping paper.

Percy sighs and leans back, defeated. He tosses the tape dispenser recklessly in front of himself, rubbing his eyes tiredly. When he looks at the clock, he is both confused and personally offended that it could possibly be three in the morning on Christmas and he still has nothing done. It’s no one’s fault but his own, because he had time to get it done but decided to wait until approximately three hours before he knew his kid would be awake to attempt and fail miserably at wrapping presents.

He considers just giving up and not wrapping them at all — it’s not like she would really care — but then he remembers the pure excitement he would get as a child while peeling the paper off the presents, and he can’t bear to take that away from her.

He tries to think of a solution, but nothing comes to mind. He’s ready to just accept that he’s screwed up, but then it comes like a whisper in the back of his mind. He knows for a fact that his neighbor is a goddess at wrapping presents because he saw her hauling them in from the car earlier for her own daughter. He tries to tell himself to absolutely not wake her up at three in the morning, but the thought of sitting here struggling any longer makes him cave, and he finds himself standing on her porch minutes later in the freezing New York air.

He hesitates, then knocks lightly. It feels like forever awaiting a response, and he’s just about to give up and turn around when he hears the lock click open, and he is met with the sight of his neighbor looking thoroughly concerned.

“It’s three in the morning,” is the first thing she says.

Percy can’t help but stare at her for a good second. He doesn’t think they’ve talked more than once or twice since she moved in a few years ago, but maybe they should have because then maybe he would’ve known how pretty she actually was. Even on the brink of sleep, she managed to look put-together in her plain black leggings and oversized knitted sweater. Her hair was loose down her back, falling in cute ruffled ringlets, and he wants to reach out to smooth them down like he’s always done for his daughter.

Percy shifts nervously. “I know. I just – there’s an emergency?”

Annabeth blinks. Her hand is resting on the door handle like she’s about to slam it shut at any second. “Is everything okay?”

“No, yeah, everything’s fine.”

“Okay…” She looks around behind him, peering into the darkness like she expects there to be a hidden camera crew. “Are you going to tell me what the emergency is, or…?”

“You’re going to think it’s stupid.”

“You’re standing on my porch in the middle of the night on Christmas. I already think this is stupid.”

Percy scratches his neck, a heat slowly rising to his cheeks. “I got my daughter a ton of presents. And I also have a ton of wrapping paper. I just can’t seem to put two and two together and actually wrap the presents.”

“You haven’t wrapped any presents?”

“No.”

Annabeth looks thoroughly appalled by his statement. He can’t be too surprised. From the few times they have interacted, he’s always had the impression that she has her shit together. It’s part of the thing that’s always held him at a distance from her. He hated the way thinking of her felt.

Right now, he decides, he hates this feeling of uselessness even more.

“Can you help me wrap presents?”

Annabeth chokes on a laugh, wrapping her arms around herself. “What?”

“I really need help wrapping presents. Like, it’s bad. My living room is a mess, and I’m pretty sure my daughter is going to be awake in less than three hours.

“Hold on,” she says, holding up a hand. She looks more amused than anything now, which brings his nerves down. “You mean to tell me that you left your three-year-old daughter home alone so that you can come to my house at three in the morning on Christmas to ask for help wrapping presents?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god, Percy.”

“Listen.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Just be happy I didn’t show up with cookies and milk,” he says.

“The only thing that would make this better is if you did bring cookies and milk,” she replies.

Percy runs his fingers through his hair. “Can you help me or not?”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a subtle smile splayed on her face. “Give me a minute.”

She goes back inside for a moment, and Percy just stands there waiting for her until she reappears. When she does, she’s holding a pack of stickers that he recognizes as those fancy Christmas labels.

“Assuming you don’t have any of these?” she asks, stepping past him.

“Now you’re just insulting me,” he says playfully, following her back along the sidewalk to his house. He opens his front door for her to step inside, and she does so for what she thinks is the first time.

Annabeth stops at the sight of his living room. “What happened!?”

“Wrapping paper and I are not friends.”

“I can see that,” she comments, setting her stuff down in the center of the room. She turns towards him while reaching up to tie her hair in a low bun. She cracks her knuckles dramatically, and she says, “Let’s get to work.”

Percy tries to help at first, but at some point, she swats his hand after using almost an entire roll of wrapping paper on just one present. He ends up sitting next to her as moral support, simply commenting on everything his delirious mind has to offer.

She looks… like a princess, is the best that Percy can come up with. She’s his own personal superhero, saving his ass on Christmas day, and she looks great doing it too. So warm and cute and small, the perfect size for holding in his arms, for cuddling, and kissing, and — what was he saying?

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” he asks.

“No!” She snatches away the scissors, waving them in his face. “I know you said you were bad at wrapping presents, but this is just…”

Percy smiles and leans his weight back on his hands. “Can I at least get you something to drink?”

“Coffee would be great.”

“Coming right up,” he says, getting to his feet. “Anything specific?”

“Whatever’s fine,” she says.

From the kitchen, he can see her working. She’s sprawled out on the floor taping a piece of wrapping paper with snowflakes on it onto a pink scooter. She looks so concentrated, her tongue sticking out through her lips as she focuses, and he is compelled to kiss away the scrunch on her forehead. It’s weird, because he’s never had a true conversation with her, but he finds himself wishing that he had sooner.

The coffee finishes brewing, and he brings it back to her side, holding it in front of her face. She hums in appreciation, dropping what’s in her hands to grasp the sides of the mug. As she takes a sip, she sighs and gives him a soft grin.

“Nothing like the taste of coffee in the middle of the night,” she says, setting it down. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” And as he sits down next to her again, he notices that the presents are all nearly wrapped. “This means a lot to me, Annabeth. I don’t know what else I would have done.”

“Don’t worry about it. Wrapping presents is my passion.”

He smirks. “So you’re that type of mom.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Jackson?” She raises a brow. “I’d like to remind you that that type of mom is currently doing your parenting for you.”

“It’s not a bad thing!” he insists. “It’s cute that you like wrapping presents.”

“Wrapping presents is not cute. It is a serious competitive sport. Cutthroat competition.”

“See? Cute.”

Annabeth laughs, shoving his knee with her socked foot. She takes the mug of coffee back in her hands and takes a long sip. “Look who’s talking.”

“Oh?” he teases. “I’m cute?”

“Sure,” she says, shrugging and nodding towards a small barbie box. “How could I not find it adorable that you are physically incapable of wrapping a square box?”

“So by cute, you mean easy to bully?” he asks, sniffing.

“Yeah, but you’re also just really cute in general.”

“How nice of you,” he says sarcastically.

“I’m serious, though. How have we never had a conversation before?”

“Because you’re you and I’m me.”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?”

“It means that you know what you’re doing, and I don’t.”

She laughs in his face. “I do not know what I’m doing in the slightest.”

“At least you can wrap presents.”

“You just have to practice,” she says. “Come here. I’ll help you do the last one.”

As Percy slides in next to her, she puts the scissors into his hands and scoots in even closer. He can feel her body heat radiating against his chest as she leans into him. She points out where for him to cut, and he follows her directions. He’s distracted by the way she smells. It’s dizzying, feeling her those close. She guides his hands with the paper, carefully tucking the paper into perfect creases, taping the wrapping taught.

It’s hands-down the best present he’s ever wrapped, though it was still Annabeth doing most of the work.

“There you go,” she says, smiling. “And now you know how to wrap a present.”

Instead of responding, he looks around the room. The sun is just beginning to rise in the skyline, the black space around them hinting at dawn. When he looks at the time, he realizes that it’s a little bit past six. It doesn’t feel like that much time has passed, but somehow it has.

Annabeth helps him clean up quickly and shove the presents underneath the tree. She comments on a few of the homemade ornaments, mentioning how much she loves the ones with the little handprints made with patchy glitter.

She’s looking at the tree, but Percy, he notices, is looking right at her, and he can’t bring himself to look away. She turns around again, shoots him a smile, and makes her way to the door. Percy follows her to walk her out. As he opens the door, she steps outside, and with the snowy background, he’s never seen a more perfect picture.

“Thank you so much,” he says. “I really do appreciate it.”

“Of course. It was surprisingly fun.” They stare at each other, unsure of what they’re supposed to say next, but then she says, “I should get back. She’s going to be waking up soon.”

“Was she home alone?”

Annabeth shakes her head, biting her lip in a smile. “A friend was home.”

Percy nods, and then he thinks he wants to see her again. “Do you have anything to do later today? After opening presents and stuff?”

She pretends to think, a subtle glow to her skin. “I can’t say that I do.”

“You’re welcome to come over,” he offers. “The girls could play together, and you could try my Christmas cookies.”

“I hope they’re better than your wrapping,” she teases.

“You’ll have to come over and find out.”

“Hm. I guess I will.” Annabeth steps away but seems to think better of it as she moves closer again. She smiles at him, lifts onto her toes, and kisses him once. It’s short and sweet but leaves him wanting to pull her closer to him when she pulls away. She doesn’t say anything as she turns on her heel back to her house, leaving Percy melting in a puddle behind her.

Maybe, he thinks, it was a good thing that he didn’t know how to wrap presents. And if she was going to make him learn anyways, which he quickly learns she would, well…

Percy certainly doesn’t mind one bit.

[littlebarrelboy]

auld lang syne || Bu

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne?

takes place: dec. 28

in which Barrel and Su say goodbye...

@princess-su

[tw: discussion of death, literally one of the most bittersweet things i’ve ever rp’d im tearing up as i post this oh my god]

BARREL:

Barrel stood at the train station. Luckily for him, he didn’t have much to pack and it had all fit in this old suitcase that he’d found at Whosits. Most of his clothes and stuff had burned back in the fire in August. He had some new stuff that Shock and Lock had bought him with Anthony’s credit card. He had some Christmas presents. He had things from the Qins. He had the Nintendo Switch that Lock had given him for Christmas.

The one Lock had not gotten to see him open.

That one was actually in his backpack.

His train was theoretically coming in fifteen minutes, but he’d wanted to get here early. The train would take him to a little suburb outside of Cardiff,  Holley Shiftwell  had told him, where he would meet a short, dark-haired woman with bangs named Jane who would escort him to a family. They’re really nice, Holley had reassured him. We’ve been working with them for years — they looked after me when my parents were in Russia.

This was the right decision. Barrel would finish up school in Wales. Barbie and Holley told him the RAS would take care of all the paperwork. Shock said she’d pay for any university he needed, if he decided to go with that. He wouldn’t be anyone’s problem. He could figure out a life for himself.

But he glanced at Su now, and with a pang to his heart, he wondered if this was the right decision.

She was the only one who’d accompanied him to the station. He didn’t know where Mei was, but he’d left her a note. He’d cracked Ting’s door open to say goodbye and she’d jumped up, apologizing over and over about how she’d forgotten and how she could be ready in just a second. But he told her it was no worry. That he could go on his own. Ting-Ting looked tired. She looked like how he felt a lot of the time, like he wanted to cry  but had a hard time figuring out how to start the tears.

That was why he was leaving.

The Qins thought it was social services who stepped in after Ting reported it all to the police, which wasn’t super far from the truth, Holley had said. He could still write to them and text them and play Animal Crossing with Su.

“I’ll send you a Dodo code as soon as I get my wifi set up in Wales,” he told her right now, trying to smile.

SU: The day had come too quick. That’s what Su wanted to tell Barrel when he spoke of Dodo codes and wifi. She didn’t want to think about how they’d have to do that method now instead of the easier, closer local play option. It was less of a hassle, honestly.

Of all things for her to focus on when Barrel spoke, that had to be the silliest. But she would rather think of something silly that could help her return the small, sad smile than the reality of the situation. The reality of their lives now. Lives that would now be lived apart.

Which, really, was the normal for them. Honestly, they’d only become so close within the past year. Only met each other in that time as well. But the tragedies they’ve stood by each other throughout, it made her feel like she’d known him for a lifetime. And now that life was coming to an end. Waiting like this train, ready to whisk Barrel - her friend, someone dear to her - away.

It was selfish to feel this way, she knows, enlight of everything that’s happened to him. It’s why she didn’t say any of this and simply nodded, hands gripped tight together behind her back as she looked at her feet. “You better. I'm going to start setting up a fun New Year’s firework show and I need you to see it.”

This was the right decision. He deserved to leave this pain behind, even if that means leaving Swynlake. And whatever decisions he makes going forward, she’d support him. Because she was his friend, and he deserved a soft epilogue, if you will, after the chaos of his teenage years, his childhood.

“You stay warm too. It’s really cold out today, and going to be even colder tonight,” She fussed, moving closer to fix his jacket, as if doing so would just make it warmer.

BARREL:

At the mention of New Year’s, Barrel remembered something. It hit him with a jolt and he immediately bent to reach for his bag — just as Su reached for his jacket.

“Woops sorry — “ Their foreheads almost collided. Barrel felt his face flush. He looked at Su. She was very near him. She smelled very nice. She was very warm.

He was going to miss her a lot.

That thought also hit him with a jolt.

He knew he was gonna miss Swynlake — miss school and his friends and going to soccer games and working the counter in Whosits. He was going to miss the Qin house and how it always smelled like something yummy and he was going to miss Ting randomly singing and Mei laughing and MuHou telling stories. He was going to miss Su, but it didn’t hit him till right now how much.

She was very pretty.

Also, at one point he’d reached for her hand as it rested on the collar of his jacket. He didn’t realize that till right now.

“I got you a birthday present,” he said. He realized he was still holding her hand and let it go. “It’s in my bag — one second — “

He rifled through his backpack and pulled out a little gift bag from the front pocket. His cheeks felt very warm still. Hadn’t Su said it was cold? It didn’t feel cold.

“You can open it now if you want,” he said, handing her the bag. “I’m sorry for missing your birthday. I got this … well, before everything. I hope you like it.”

He’d picked out the gift because of Animal Crossing, but also because Su liked plants and her magic was plants and Barrel always thought that was so fitting.

SU: “Sorry,” Su also said, the apology mixing with his in the wind at their clumsiness. But she chuckled a little. “My bad.”

His hand at some point came to hold hers. It was big and warm compared to her tiny ones that always struggled to hold any heat. It fit perfectly, she thought. Comfortable and safe. Like that night so long ago when he’d first come to the Qins’ home. Somehow, he’d seemed so small then. Someone she wanted to protect and cradle in her world, inside their home of magic.

When did she have to tilt her head up so high to look at him?

She blinked just as she did so, his words taking a moment to process as his hand left hers and then she was holding a present. “Birthday present…?” She questioned, looking at it a moment longer before realizing - oh yeah. Her birthday. She was going to be seventeen at the start of the new year.

Her face warmed as she smiled down into the bag. Of all things he was worried about…

“Thank you, you didn’t have to…” She started, quickly opening it so he could see her reaction. And she hoped it didn’t disappoint. Honestly, anything Barrel would give her, she would have loved, but something about this necklace… Why did she want to cry? She held it in. Instead, she smiled wide and looked at him. “It’s so pretty, Barrel! I love it!” She said, before throwing herself on him in a hug. Trying to hide those tears. “I promise I’ll always wear it.”

BARREL:

Su hugged him.

His arms fit around her waist, pulling her closer. Truth be told, he was crying a little bit too now, though he didn’t realize she was crying, only that he was crying and he didn’t want Su to see that he was crying.

For a second, he wanted to stay.

He thought about what it would mean to stay. To graduate from Swynlake Secondary. To go to Pride U with the money that Shock had given him. To continue living with the Qins, and sitting for dinner and Sunday morning pancakes. He thought about that for a moment, clinging to a warm, impossible dream.

Because he knew it was impossible. Because it wouldn’t be the life he thought it would. Because Lock was dead and Shock was gone and everything had changed. He didn’t know what that would mean for the future in his head, but Barbie had offered him a way out. A place where Lock and Shock didn’t haunt every corner. A place where his parents had never touched.

For the first time in his life, Barrel saw the possibilities that offered. He had to take it.

He’d just miss Su a lot.

He pulled away to tell her this, to try and say something about how he really wanted that other life — the one where he stayed, the one where he went to Pride U, the one where they got to celebrate her birthday together and eat pancakes — how he wanted that one to happen, but at the same time, he wanted it to never happen, because it was golden, warm, bright, and untouched by reality.

In some pocket universe, it happened and it was very nice over there and he was very happy for that.

He wanted to tell this to Su and he looked down at her, about to, but the words were too complicated and Barrel wasn’t good with words, so somewhere along the line,  they got caught in his throat. He didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say, so instead of saying any of that, he leaned down and pressed his lips to Su's.

It was a short kiss — short and golden and warm and bright.

SU: Stay.

The plea was on the tip of her tongue. Su felt it. Even as she tried to smother it and the rest of the storm in her mind. Don’t leave me in this mess alone. She didn’t feel strong enough. Even as she held onto him now, she felt maybe if she let go, he’d never leave. She could keep him here with her, and then maybe things would go back to normal.

But that was selfish and untrue, no matter how loud her thoughts were.

Then everything seemed to go silent with a sudden kiss.

Her eyes widened. Her face flushed. She’d never been kissed before. Her first kiss. And it was a kiss goodbye. Despite how bittersweet it was, she felt incredibly warm. And her fingers curled into his coat, pulling him closer into the kiss - only for a few seconds more, it’d feel like it was just them there. She wished that were true.

But with one bold action, she knew one thing: she knew Barrel would be okay. She knew things would be far from easy but - she believed in him. Believed in him and the person she knew he’d grow to be while also staying the kind boy she met in the Swynlake Secondary cafeteria and let into their home. It was the only reason she was able to pull away with the kiss with a warm smile.

“We’re going to be okay. I promise,” She said, smiling while wiping at her tears, the necklace still clutched in her hand. “You’ll always have a home with us too, if you ever want to come back, even for a visit.”

A visit. Yeah, that would be nice. And then this would be less like a goodbye and more like...see you later. Su liked that a lot better. Even if later was...years from now.

BARREL:

He had to go.

Barrel was even more sure of this after kissing Su.

It had been a nice kiss. He liked it a lot. It was a very good first kiss (he didn’t even realize it was his first kiss till right now and now he felt very bubbly and light that Su had been his first kiss). And maybe one day they could kiss again. Maybe one day.

But Barrel had to figure out who he was and what he was going to be that one day. Barrel had spent nearly 18 years of his life defined by Shock and Lock. He loved them. He loved them more than anything — including himself.

He needed to figure out who he was without them. He couldn’t do that in Swynlake, not in the home where his brother died and his sister left, not a few streets down from the burned remains of their house. He had to do that on his own. In Wales, which was not so far away.

He could always visit.

There was a future for Barrel. For maybe the first time in his life, there was a future.

“Thank you for everything, Su,” he said, gently touching her hair. “I don’t know how I would’ve… without you and your sisters. Without you…” His voice trailed off and he reached for her hand to give it another squeeze. “We’ll always have Animal Crossing, at least. I can’t wait to show you my island once I get it looking nice.”

He smiled a little, just as the train started to whistle into the station. A lump formed in his throat and he tried not to count the seconds till it pulled in fully and just enjoy these last moments with Su. 

SU: Su swallowed thickly. Swallowing more tears, not allowing anymore to fall. She had to remind herself this wasn’t truly a goodbye. The world was so small because of phones and the Internet. She could talk to him every night still. Even though it’d hardly ever be the same.

She squeezed his hand back. Go. Live. “You don’t have to thank me for anything. I - we’d  - do it all again,” She smiled, forcing herself to let go of his hand - to let him go. “Remember what I said about turnip exchange! It’s a life changer!”

She laughed at that, but really used it to cover up any sobs that might want to bubble out. She’d be okay. They’d be okay. He’d be okay. That was all that mattered now. She was still suspicious about the story he told them but...it wasn’t her place to ask about social services.

She trusted he knew what he was doing.

She took a step back, glancing up at the train and smiled. It hurt. But if she could distance herself, it’d hurt less and be easier to watch him go. “You better hurry so you can get a good spot and get your luggage put up. I…” She looked at him then to her feet. Then back at him. “Text me when you get there, ‘kay?”

BARREL:

“I will,” said Barrel. His head still spun from the kiss. He’d already picked up his duffle bag. He’d taken a step back from Su, not realizing she’d done the same. The distance between them now could not be closed with an embrace. Soon he’d get on the train and the train would bring him further and further away —

He couldn’t think of it like that. He could still talk to Su. He’d just said he was going to text her, after all. They’d meet on Animal Crossing. He’d text all his friends: JJ, Nemo, Finn, Wilbur, and Tony. Maybe some of them would text back. He’d video call Su and Ting-Ting and Mei and show them his new room and tell Su about his new school and his new town.

But he would also go to a new school. He’d meet new friends who didn’t know about Lock and Shock or his parents. He’d graduate. He’d go to university. He would study animals and he would get a job at any place he could work with them. He would become a zookeeper one day, in the far future, and he would get an apartment of his own where he fed cats behind the building and took them home.

He’d see Shock. He’d see Su and Mei and Ting-Ting. They could come to his apartment and meet his cats and he would learn how to cook so he could make them dinner like they did for him so many times.

One day, maybe, he would even come back to Swynlake.

He didn’t know if that would happen, actually. Or when that would happen. Right now, he couldn’t think of Swynlake without thinking of Lock — and Shock and his parents.

One day, maybe, he would come to this station again and when he stepped off the train, he would smile at the town.

Right now though, his smile was for Su.

“Goodbye Su,” he said, touching her shoulder gently. When he glanced back, stepping on the train, it was for her. He found a good seat by the window, pressing his face against it, waving as the train rolled out of the station. When Su was nothing more than a speck in the distance, when he squinted and couldn’t see the town, Barrel sat back in his seat.

He took a deep breath. His heart hammered, but — he felt light. He felt hopeful. He could see a future for himself, bright and clear.

Barrel closed his eyes and he dreamt of lions.

[locktobre]

writing is about choices, it’s a lot of specific choices made to say things a certain way or frame them a certain way, so when I look at BPA it’s like... why were those choices made? and no amount of “it’s just for kids” will excuse anything about it either, even if they can’t necessarily pick up on nuanced stuff doesn’t mean it’s just magically okay to make a movie full of plot holes bc they supposedly won’t notice. I just don’t understand what happened.

like, I’ve already talked about Johan/Johanistan and how weird that is, but why even have 2 kingdoms merging/Johanistan being taken over as a plot point? is it just to give Johan a legitimate claim to the throne? (I even made a post before the movie wondering how he might expect to keep the throne if he succeeded, so I mean, it’s a legitimate question) bc that could have been done another way. he could have been Amelia’s brother, or cousin, or uncle, somehow related to her so if she was gone, he would be next in line. that’s way simpler than the whole 2 countries thing, and requires less explanation! (not that we got any explanation of the conflict between Johanistan and Floravia lmao)

why have Johanistan be a plot point if they weren’t going to mention it at all? Amelia does not even acknowledge them even once, not even at the end, she says “people of Floravia,” like she isn’t about to be queen of both countries, like it doesn’t matter at all. it’s like they forgot there’s a whole other country she’s supposed to be in charge of now, one that has its own laws and traditions and customs that she, as a Floravian princess, may not be aware of. they certainly didn’t dedicate her time outside the palace to exploring Johanistan or giving it any thought at all.

why have Amelia just leave the palace to do nothing? if she wasn’t going to pay attention to Johanistan, why not see Floravia through a tourist’s eyes, maybe joining Barbie’s friend group as they go around sight-seeing? learn to appreciate where she is in a new way? where did she go? what did she do? why didn’t they feel like that was important to show us? is Erica Lindbeck just too expensive to pay her for more lines? is that it? I’ve literally been wracking my brain for 2 weeks trying to figure it out.

having Amelia leave the week before her coronation just feels SO reckless and irresponsible, even for a 17/almost-18 year old. ESPECIALLY since, again, we don’t know WHAT she did or said, or anything that happened outside of pieces of a few scenes. I don’t like to draw comparisons but if you want to--Anneliese didn’t do that; she was kidnapped and had no say in the switch. Tori did have a choice, but she wasn’t literally about to become queen of two countries, all she was avoiding was writing a speech, which, frankly, even for a princess seems like no big deal.

the setting and the timing of BPA just feels WEIRD for something they never even address. yeah, yeah, once she’s queen she’ll be “more controlled” but also... you’re the queen. just fire ppl?? say no to photoshoots??? can you not do that? are you just a puppet controlled by Alfonso (or someone else)? he seems like he only wants what’s best for you and for your country(/countries), while you seem like you don’t give a flying fuck at all about any of it. she has 1 half-hearted line about making her own choices but it’s not followed up on bc we never see her making any choices. we didn’t even see her choose her own ice cream flavor!

etc etc etc I could go on but again, writing is a series of choices, and they made so many choices I just can’t even BEGIN understand

[artificialqueens]

Chivalry Fell on its Sword, Chapter Two (Branjie) - Athena2

Summary: Brooke begins her training with the royal guard while Vanessa becomes curious about her new knight and their feelings start to grow.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the amazing feedback on the first chapter, both on here and on tumblr. It means more to me than I can say, but do know I really appreciate it.

I really hope you enjoy this chapter, and would any more feedback you have! Thank you times a million to Writ for betaing and Barbie for reading and supporting me, you’re both amazing <3

—

Brooke wakes slowly, blinking through eyelids still heavy with exhaustion. Sunlight warms her face, and if the sun is up, she’s late for work. But the bed beneath her is so soft, much softer than her straw bed, and there’s no knot in her neck either, because she’s not in the stable. She is now the knight in the stories that made up the best years of her childhood. Brooke would curl up in her mother’s lap, clashing swords and trampled battlefields coming to life in the thrilling tales about brave knights slaying fearsome beasts and saving the princess, then living happily ever after. Brooke always knew she wanted to live happily ever after with a princess too.

She would herd the sheep into their pen and pretend she was taming a dragon, protecting the villagers and the princess from harm. Once everyone was safe, Brooke and the princess would ride on her horse back to the castle, and Brooke would protect her and love her more than anyone as they chased their happily ever after.

Happily ever after doesn’t always exist for people like her, she knows that. Unlike knights and princes and princesses, who were born with an invisible quill weaving their beautiful story, people like Brooke got whatever was thrown at them. Brooke’s given up on letting it bother her. It’s just the way the world works, and life isn’t always happy for people like her. But Vanessa knocks on her door to bring her to breakfast, and Brooke looks around her room and takes one last peek at her armor and thinks maybe it could be this time.

—

The breakfast laid out for them is almost as impressive as last night’s dinner, with Vanessa eager and cheerful across from her. Again, Brooke thinks of what an odd princess Vanessa makes–happily dining with a member of her guard, someone she didn’t need to interact with at all. Brooke’s questioning side wonders if it’s just an act to make sure Brooke stays here, but Brooke doesn’t think Vanessa would do that. Her kindness is just kindness, pure and never meant to harm.

“Do you like bacon?” Vanessa asks.

Brooke nods, and Vanessa scoops some on her plate.

“I like the crispy ones,” Vanessa continues.

Brooke smiles shyly. “Me too.” Her mother used to fry it over the fire while she swept the kitchen floor, and Brooke loved crunching on the almost-burnt edges formed by her mother’s distraction.

“I have meetings with my mother this morning. One of my attendants will bring you to meet the guard. They’ll probably review things for the feast. Then you’ll be with me this afternoon.”

“Yes, Your Maj–Vanessa.” Brooke returns to her breakfast, trying to slow down her heart, racing like a horse in her chest at the thought of spending the afternoon with the princess.

Vanessa’s attendant Scarlet arrives, coppery hair swaying as she walks, and though she’s nice, Brooke can’t help but feel sad at leaving Vanessa, who will sit in meetings discussing things Brooke can’t even imagine. Brooke is much more suited to the flash of steel than the rustling of parchment.

Scarlet takes her down to the grounds, twisting around the back of the castle to a private forge for fixing equipment while Scarlet points out the different buildings and their uses. Brooke feels a humming in her bones, like she’s finally come home. All the noble knights that protected kings and queens over the years had used these buildings, had probably loved the clang of steel and the squeak of polishing cloth over armor just like she does. This is where she belongs.

A tall knight with gleaming blond hair awaits them at the gate. He’s the sort of man girls in Brooke’s village would giggle at when he walked by, though to Brooke he has a weasel’s eyes sunken in a face as bland as brick paste.

“That’s Ron,” Scarlet whispers. “He’s captain of the guard. I wouldn’t get on his bad side if I were you.”

“Why not?” Brooke asks, but Scarlet introduces them and is on her way, some sort of protection going with her.

“So you’re the peasant girl the princess appointed,” Ron says.

The peasant girl. The words roar in Brooke’s ears, echoing every mean thing people ever said to her, the doubts she learned to fight away. As if being those things makes her lesser, makes her undeserving.

Brooke squares her shoulders. “I am.”

Ron gives her a look like he would melt her into the ground if he could. Brooke realizes with a jolt that he’s the knight she beat to win the tournament, and he’s clearly not happy with being defeated, let alone by a girl. Any bit of pride welling in her chest is crushed by the glares he shoots at her, daring her to say something as they head inside the armory to get ready. The other twelve knights await, and none of them are as regal as the knights in the stories. Instead, they stand around whispering and complaining to each other. Most of them are probably second or third or fourth sons of kings, Brooke figures, here to serve the princess because they have no shot at their own crown. They can’t all be like the knights in the stories, no matter how much she wishes they could.

Brooke fastens her armor, the soothing routine not as calming when everyone’s eyes are on her, waiting for her to make a mistake that proves she doesn’t belong here, like they’re all thinking. She takes a slow breath and resumes the motions, as calm and cool as ever. They won’t get to her.

Ron is still glaring when she’s done, and Scarlet’s words send a shiver down Brooke’s spine. “Is there a problem?” she asks. That’s all she gets out before Ron throws himself in her face.

“The problem is you coming in here like you deserve it–”

“Are you saying I don’t deserve it?” Brooke challenges.

“You think you deserve to be one of us?” He sneers. “We’re born into this. We train our whole lives with the greatest swordmasters in the kingdom. We get the support of kings before entering tournaments. We earn our titles. We don’t just walk in like you.” A glob of spit lands on her breastplate with the last word.

Brooke’s skin steams with anger. None of them had earned things like she had. They had armor and swords handed to them, collected in piles so deep they’d never reach the bottom. But Brooke made all her own equipment. She had hammered down the steel of her leg guards until they fit like a second skin, had hovered over the iron mold breathlessly until she had a sword that was an extension of her arm. They were the first things that were truly hers, made of her blood, sweat, tears, and hard work just as much as steel, and no one will take them from her. You still won, she thinks. You won on your own.

“I still won without all that, didn’t I?” Brooke says, relishing in the awestruck gasps and whispers that erupt. “Maybe that stuff’s not worth as much as you thought.”

Ron’s face turns red as the tomatoes that grew on Brooke’s farm. “You got lucky, girl. If we ever fight again, you won’t walk away in one piece. I promise you that.”

“I beat you once. I’ll do it again,” Brooke says, nudging past him. Making an enemy wasn’t part of her plan, but she can’t let anyone doubt whether she belongs here. She has to prove that she’s worthy, like she’s done her whole life.

The rest of the morning passes in a blur of great hall layouts for the feast and fighting stances, and Brooke lets it all go. She’s a real knight now, with a place to store her equipment and a huge grassy yard to practice in. A real knight, far away from her gloomy village with all the people who doubted her.

The sword dangling from her hip has never felt lighter.

—

“Vanessa, focus, please.”

Vanessa blushes at her mother’s voice, returning to plans for the feast with a chastened smile. Normally she can focus, but she can’t help it today. The council room overlooks the field where Scarlet leads Brooke to the armory, and her eyes are frozen toward the window. There’s something about how Brooke walks–not overly graceful, but steady and determined, confidence bursting from each stride of her long legs.

That same confidence was in the firm set of her shoulders as she jousted yesterday, shoulders that slouch slightly when she thinks no one is looking, like they’ve been holding the world for a very long time and are desperate for any relief they can get.

And something–maybe her shy smile, or her muscled arms, or her blushing cheeks paired with her fierceness in the arena–makes Vanessa want to help her get that relief. Her parents always told her to be kind to anyone no matter who they are or where they come from. It’s something that weighs in her mind more heavily these days, since next year she’ll be 18 and take the throne her father left behind. Brooke is a knight on her guard, and Vanessa is going to be kind regardless of the way her heart flutters at Brooke standing tall in her armor, a mysterious storybook knight come to life.

There’s definitely a mystery to Brooke–how did she become so good at 17, when the most dangerous thing girls are allowed to hold is a sewing needle? What made her want to be a knight? There’s a story in those green eyes and polished armor, and it makes Vanessa want to get to know Brooke, maybe let Brooke know her as well.

Her mother clears her throat, and Vanessa realizes she lost focus again. She sits up straighter, the afternoon’s promise of exploring the city with Brooke pushed to the back of her mind.

—

Brooke knows she and Vanessa visiting the city alone is a test from the queen to see what Brooke is made of, and even though she wants to enjoy herself, take in the vendors and people buzzing about, she can’t drop her guard. If anything happens to the princess, Brooke’s position is gone before her official knighting ceremony.

The city market is huge. Brooke remembers marveling over the size of the jousting arena, but that would easily fit inside here and still leave room. Everywhere she looks, there’s someone buying food or jewelry or fabrics from a bright tent, the sun glinting off their gold as they haggle the price. All Brooke’s wages from the forge went toward paying off her equipment, and she wonders what it will be like to have coins jangle as she walks, the promise of buying whatever she wants with her own money. She hopes the queen gives her the gold she won soon.

There’s so many people milling about, most concerned with the vendors, that no one notices them or seems to care, but Brooke still keeps a hand near her sword hilt, body curving toward Vanessa to take a protective angle if needed, a strategy she learned this morning. Vanessa smells like lemons, like cold, puckery lemonade cooling her off after brushing horses in the summer sun, and Brooke unconsciously curves in a little more.

Vanessa stops by one vendor selling golden brown cakes. “They’re little cinnamon cakes with apples and nuts inside. They’re delicious,” Vanessa says. “Have you ever tried one?”

“No.” Brooke barely has the word out before Vanessa is marching to the vendor and buying two cakes, eagerly passing one to Brooke.

“T-thank you, Vanessa.”

“Of course.”

Vanessa watches her with excited eyes as she takes a bite, like she wants to make sure Brooke likes it, make sure she’s happy.

Brooke grins through rich cake and sweet apples. “It’s really good.”

Vanessa claps her hands. “I told you!”

“Is this what you normally do during the day?” Brooke asks as they walk past more stands, preparing to plan for possible threats.

Vanessa nods. “I do meetings and lessons every morning, and in the afternoons I visit the city or paint.”

“You paint?”

Vanessa nods in excitement. Her face glows and she appears even younger than her almost-seventeen years, happy just to talk about her art with someone. “Trees are my favorite! I’ll have to show you the ones by the castle. They’re prettiest now, in autumn. I do some embroidery too.” Vanessa pauses. “Do you like to paint or anything?”

Brooke shakes her head. Paints and brushes were a delicacy unheard of in Greenville. She’d tried to paint a horse with old supplies she found at the orphanage, but the paint was gloopy and the horse looked like a fat bear, and the paper got crumpled so Brooke’s failure couldn’t mock her. Painting always seemed like something only princesses could do. “Not really. I’m not that good at art stuff.”

“You make swords, though,” Vanessa insists. “You create something. That’s an art, isn’t it?”

Brooke’s never thought of it that way, but there is an art to it, she supposes. Patrick chiseled the molds, birthing delicate lions and wolves out of hard iron to decorate sword hilts. Brooke learned early on the steel had to be heated exactly, perfectly mixed like paints, everything poured into the mold–a canvas of sorts–without hesitation or error. Maybe art doesn’t only exist on a canvas, or in the hands of princesses.

“I guess it is,” Brooke agrees, taking the last bite of her cake.

They continue through the market unnoticed, and Brooke has never had a day like this, walking around with someone so freely, not sore from working or plotting which cart to steal an apple from while her mouth watered over sweet cakes, and she finds her hand drifting farther and farther from her sword.

—

“There’s going to be 150 guests for the princess’s birthday feast this Saturday,” Ron booms. “We’ll have guards at the hall entrance and along the tables. See me after training for your position.”

150 guests for a feast. Brooke can’t get the number out of her head as they train in the sun-baked courtyard, an autumn breeze keeping her cool. 150 is nothing compared to the amount of people that saw her joust, but it’s still a lot to keep track of. But she wouldn’t be a knight if she couldn’t take the challenge, and she’s eager for something to prove herself with.

Ron tells her that she’ll be sitting with the princess and queen on Vanessa’s orders, and Brooke can’t hide her grin. Of all the knights, Vanessa chose Brooke to be beside her, chose Brooke as the knight she most wanted to protect her.

“Wipe that smile off your face. You need to familiarize yourself with the guest list and seating arrangements. If a peasant girl like you can, of course,” Ron snickers as he walks away, like he knows the paper he’s given her is deadlier than any sword.

Brooke’s heart sinks to her stomach as she returns to the castle, waiting until she’s safely by her room to peek at the list and let her fear show. Shame bubbles in her chest and panic claws at her throat, stealing all the castle’s air. The other knights could read without a problem, but hardly anyone in her village could read. The stories Brooke’s mother told her had been passed down through the generations, at their best on cold nights with a fire crackling. The orphanage had too many children to wrangle to worry about teaching, and reading remained something only the nobility could do.

Brooke can pick out the letters in her name, like those little circles that mean O, but the rest might as well be another language. How could she follow her orders and protect all the guests if she didn’t know their names or where they were sitting? How can she call herself a knight if she can’t do her duty?

She sets the paper down before she tears it in frustration. Though that might be better than telling the guards she doesn’t know how to read. They already think she’s unworthy; if she tells them she can’t read, it’ll only be further proof that she’s inferior, and she can’t let them see such weakness. She can just picture how Ron will sneer at her, lobbing insults her armor might not be able to deflect—

“What’s that?” Vanessa asks. Brooke jumps, so lost in misery she didn’t even hear Vanessa coming.

“Nothing,” Brooke says quickly. Vanessa could read and write and probably add up numbers too. She’d surely laugh at Brooke if she knew it took her a week of practice just to write her own name on the tournament entry list, with a child’s shaky scribbles, because she insisted on doing it herself.

“It looks like the guest list for the feast.”

“It is, but…”

“What is it?” Vanessa’s tone is gentle, eyes wondering what’s wrong, and telling her has to be a lesser evil than telling the whole guard. Vanessa has been nothing but kind to her, and maybe she won’t even laugh.

“I don’t…I can’t read very well,” Brooke chokes out, because that sounds better than saying she can’t read at all, eases the shame just a bit. A smaller hit to her pride somehow. Vanessa’s eyes widen and Brooke looks down at her feet, cheeks on fire.

“Do you want me to help you?” Vanessa asks softly. There’s no pity in her eyes, nothing but pure kindness and a desire to help. Vanessa truly is the strangest princess Brooke’s ever heard of, offering to help her read, giving away some of her power–Brooke has learned reading is a form of power–and letting Brooke have it, when no one ever cares if peasants could read.

Brooke can’t see any other choice, so she follows Vanessa into her bedroom, too stunned to notice how extravagant Vanessa’s room is as they sit at a small table in the corner. Vanessa pulls out paper and quickly writes down a bunch of letters, her quill looping across the page like a dance. “This is the alphabet,” Vanessa explains. “The first letter is an A. It looks like an arrow tip, if that helps. A for arrow. The second letter–”

“I know that one!” Brooke says quickly.

Vanessa grins. “That’s right. B for Brooke.” She nudges a little closer, running through each letter and helping Brooke twist her mouth this way and that to make the correct sound for them all, then turning the letters into words and names. Brooke doesn’t even notice that their arms are touching until they’ve finished the guest list entirely.

—

The feast preparation is in full swing Tuesday afternoon, with dishes being polished and plates arranged, and Vanessa heads to the city with Brooke to avoid getting trampled by attendants carrying gold forks.

Most of the guards dragged their feet through the city with her, not impressed by the treats or clothes, but Brooke seemed to enjoy it their first day. She’s from Greenville, Vanessa remembers, which isn’t so much a town as it is a road through a town, and she likes watching Brooke smile when she tries a new food. None of the other guards cared for what they called “street treats” with disdain, having grown up with private chefs in their father’s castles. Ron was the worst to visit with, huffing every time Vanessa said she wasn’t ready to leave and insisting the marketplace was beneath them. But Vanessa’s father always said nothing is beneath her, that she’s no better than others because of her title, and getting to see so many people come together in one place is her favorite thing.

Her father had loved the marketplace. He took her from when she was a little girl, telling her things about the world she didn’t understand then, wanting just to eat cookies and pick out a new toy, but knows now. Things that will help her be the best ruler she can.

She practically runs from the carriage with Brooke at her side, and the marketplace spreads before them like a jewel. She pulls Brooke over to a vendor selling hats and shoves a sickly green bonnet covered in roses on her head.

“What do you think?”

Brooke snorts with laughter, her edges softening before Vanessa’s eyes. “Not bad. I think you need…this one.” Brooke replaces the green with a square hat whose orange tassels hang in Vanessa’s face.

Vanessa tears it off with a grin. She’s about to go for a pink bonnet when the aroma of fruit slips over them.

“Want to get something to eat?” Vanessa asks.

“I don’t have any money,” Brooke says quietly.

Vanessa frowns. “Did my mother not give you your winnings yet?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

Vanessa frowns deeper at Brooke using her title, heaping it on like she’s lesser than Vanessa, like she doesn’t deserve to use Vanessa’s real name. And her mother–Vanessa knows she isn’t thrilled about having a non-noble be on the guard, but she trusted Vanessa’s judgment and agreed that Brooke is a good knight. She should have given Brooke her gold by now.

“I’ll talk to her, all right? She’s just been focused on my birthday and everything.” Brooke nods, and Vanessa smiles. “Now, let’s go. I’ll buy you anything you want.”

Five minutes later, she and Brooke traipse through pottery vendors with their fruit hand-pies.

“Do you know what my father used to do with these?” Vanessa asks. She’s not sure why she’s bringing it up, but she knows Brooke is a good listener and will be more interested than the other knights.

“What?”

“He would break his pie in half, and I’d break mine in half, and we’d swap. Then we had half of each pie.” Vanessa laughs. “I think he did it because he knew I could never pick one and liked to have different flavors.” She breaks her peach hand-pie in half, holding it out to Brooke like a test. Brooke splits her strawberry one and the swap takes place, two halves making one unique whole that Vanessa eats happily.

“Your father sounded like a good man,” Brooke says hesitantly, leaving her words hanging like it’s up to Vanessa whether to take the thread or not.

“He was,” Vanessa says finally. “He was nice to everyone. He really cared about people, you know?”

Brooke nods, and Vanessa is about to ask about her family when shouts erupt from deeper in the marketplace, people running after the commotion. It’s probably some kind of fight–people jealous of a former lover, or a vendor catching someone stealing. It’s not uncommon to see people fleeing the square with bloodstained clothes and the slumped shoulders of defeat. It happens almost everyday in such a large city, but Brooke doesn’t know that, and quickly moves Vanessa against the brick of a building.

“Stay behind me!” Brooke’s voice is firm and confident, her stance solid and every inch the bold storybook knight who slays dragons. Vanessa can’t help but marvel at the muscles rippling in her shoulders, the way her whole body curves around Vanessa to shield her, taking the impact of people sprinting by to see the fight and place bets–anything can turn a profit in the marketplace–so none of them hit Vanessa.

“Brooke, it’s all right,” Vanessa says once the shouts die down. “It’s just a fight. They happen a lot here.”

“Are you sure? You’re not hurt, are you?” Brooke’s eyes are focused intently on her, scanning her body for any injuries.

“I’m fine. Thank you, Brooke. You were really brave, protecting me like that.”

Brooke’s cheeks flush as red as her strawberry pie. “Of course.” She nods toward the cobblestone streets. “Shall we?”

They walk back into the market, and Vanessa is still in awe at how fast Brooke moved to protect her. Of course the other knights protect her–Vanessa knows she’s safe with them–but there’s something about Brooke’s focus, her intense concern on keeping Vanessa safe with everything she had.

Brooke was just doing her job, Vanessa tells herself. All the knights would have done the same, with punishment of death looming if they didn’t. Sometimes Vanessa wonders whether the other knights act out of their oath to her or out of fear of punishment, but Brooke hadn’t hesitated for even a second, like she had acted solely to keep Vanessa safe than out of any other reason.

She was just doing her job, Vanessa thinks.

But her heart doesn’t want to listen.

—

Vanessa is waiting outside Brooke’s room when she returns from her afternoon shift guarding the main gate, bouncing up and down on her feet, face so flushed and nervous that Brooke forgets the cramping in her hands from polishing armor.

“Vanessa?” Brooke prompts.

“I, um, I did some painting today. Do you want to see?” Vanessa rubs at her neck, and Brooke’s eyes stray to her hands. Vanessa has beautiful hands, soft and smooth and delicate. Those hands wrote out the alphabet for her and pointed to each letter with confidence and grace, and Brooke can easily imagine them holding a paintbrush, turning colors on a pallet into something beautiful.

“Of course I do,” Brooke says. Vanessa sighs in relief, her steps a little uneasy as they enter her room, and Brooke can’t imagine why Vanessa would be nervous about showing Brooke her paintings. Vanessa didn’t even bat an eyelash during the fight in the city, and her hesitation now makes Brooke want to curl her body around her and keep her safe.

The easel in the corner steals her breath. The trees with their orange-gold leaves look as realistic as the ones outside Vanessa’s window, conjuring up memories of autumns on the farm, chilly, wet leaves sticking to Brooke after hours of jumping in the piles as tall as mountains, the sizzle of her mother frying potatoes over the stove, the tall apple trees by the barn blooming with ripe red fruit.

“It’s beautiful,” Brooke says. “You’re an amazing painter.” She has to resist the urge to reach into the painting and pluck out a leaf.

“It’s strange to show someone for the first time,” Vanessa says. “My mother has seen them all, but you haven’t.”

“I know what you mean,” Brooke says. “When Patrick–he’s the forge owner–checked the first sword I made, it was…scary,” she finishes lamely, not having words for the way she held her breath as he inspected each inch of the sword, her entire future contained in three feet of steel, wondering if he’d find a flaw that would cost her the job and everything she was working for. “Sorry, I don’t know how to explain it.”

“It is scary,” Vanessa agrees. “Like you’re showing someone part of you, and if they don’t like it, it feels as though they don’t like you.”

Brooke nods solemnly, and as Vanessa points out some of the details on the canvas, Brooke sees a dot of orange paint along her finger. Just a tiny smudge, barely noticeable unless you looked, but it tugs something in Brooke’s heart. It matches the polishing liquid staining Brooke’s fingers, and it’s something else to connect them. She and Vanessa, both with hands stained from a day’s work, who know what it’s like to stand over something and watch it become something more, become art.

Brooke points to the canvas. “Will you tell me about it?”

Vanessa claps her hand in excitement, like she hasn’t had someone to talk about art with in a while, and though Brooke doesn’t know all the techniques she mentions, she knows that Vanessa has shown Brooke a very secret part of her, and Brooke likes that part very much.

[izloveshorses]

Alrighty so while I’m thinking about it here’s basically every element from Beauty and the Beast that I adored

can I say how surreal it was to be in a theater packed with young girls of all ages wearing yellow dresses with their Belle barbies 

not to mention all the adults and people my age who’ve been singing Be Our Guest for eternity were all so excited 

it was almost like when The Force Awakens came out and Star Wars was alive again and everyone, old and new generations of fans, gathered together.... ya know what I’m talking about? where everyone in the room is buzzing with anticipation

the CGI wasn’t as terrible as y’all thought, y’all need to have a little faith sometimes lol

the casting was excellent!!

i know people have mixed feelings about Emma Watson playing Belle but I honestly wouldn’t have casted it any other way. She’s always been a women’s rights activist, a bookworm and a thinker, and a strong role model for young girls. and her favorite princess was always Belle I mean come on. and her singing voice was so incredible!! that was what I was most looking forward to in this movie and it did not disappoint

she also said in a buzzfeed interview that she imagines Belle would open the Beast’s library to the public and start a school!!! How rad is that?? HEADCANON ACCEPTED 

shout out to Dan Stevens for waltzing in 10 inch stilts while wearing a 40 pound body suit 

ok Luke Evans and Josh Gad must’ve thought they were in Dirty Dancing because they had the time of their lives

and Luke was pretty attractive. just sayin

overall, the cast was really diverse! not one but two interracial couples! and in general there were a lot of poc in the village featuring a wonderfully sweet librarian dude

Everything about Belle’s character was fantastic I’m not kidding

i think the town had such a consistent routine that she could precisely time when the morning rush started?

despite the village blatantly gossiping about her she was still so nice and polite to everyone

so??? much??? sass??? it was unreal??? When Gaston asked why she wouldn’t go out to dinner with him he assumed she had plans but she was just like “No...” and she didn’t even explain further how freakin savage she shot that boy down

(a few more examples bc this girl was on fire) “Why would I be startled? I’m talking to a candle” and “Is that a joke? are you making jokes now?” and my fav “’Maybe you just haven’t met the right man?’ ‘It’s a small village Gaston, I’ve met them all’”

this is Elizabeth Bennet level Jane Austen would be proud

they touched on how women were expected to have kids in their late teens/early 20s and she’s like “screw that” yeah girl smash that patriarchy

how on earth did it take me 17 years to realize she’s considered odd because she’s the only literate girl in the whole village???????? how did I, a history buff obsessed with the French Revolution, never make that connection before???? this isn’t specific to the new film but still I applaud it good job disney

she was an inventor!!! i don’t know if i’ve ever been happier than when i saw her solving equations and tinkering and making a washing machine so she can read and get chores done simultaneously. emma totally had something to do with this decision absolutely no doubt

she doesn’t ride her horse sidesaddle and that was like a huge faux pas for ladies back then (again, smashing the patriarchy one step at a time)

SHE WAS TEACHING ANOTHER SMOL GIRL HOW TO READ!!! THAT’S SO IMPORTANT AND PRECIOUS I’VE BEEN UNABLE TO THINK OF ANYTHING ELSE SINCE THAT MOMENT

she planned to escape the castle from the beginning and was really creative about it, and no matter what she always found some sort of weapon lying around lol (a random stick, a chair, a pitcher Belle what would you do with that) but she was always prepared to defend herself with somewhat of a plan and attempt at thinking ahead

She was really curious about the curse and asked questions about it to figure out this mystery herself

she was always problem-solving and trying to find a solution to situations and that was so cool girls need to see that strong female leads aren’t always the ones that can fight, but girls with wit and bravery

there was lots of nice background info on characters that otherwise wouldn’t exist, like Belle’s mom’s death, why Maurice chose to stay in that boring village and Adam’s dad being a jerk and turning him into a monster (no pun intended)

Mrs Potts giving us a reason why the entire castle was cursed, not just Adam. They didn’t do anything to stop Adam’s dad from corrupting him and man that’s some heavy stuff

I feel like each character, especially the servants, were so much richer and stronger and more complex, and the stakes were higher bc each time a rose petal fell they became less and less human

even the enchantress had a name and she was gorgeous?

they went pretty dark in this one... like something caused that tree to fall in Maurice’s path and back into an upright position. the wolves wouldn’t cross the gates because of some boundary. the way the whole castle shuddered with each drop of a pedal. i could go on... and the added character depth really helped that dark stuff too

THE MUSIC!!!! WAS SO GOOD!!! I’ve had the album on repeat for.... four days now and I’m not sick of it yet?? please send help

seriously, they did an amazing job. it was perfectly balanced w both old an new songs, and neither of them overshadowed the other. each song got it’s spotlight, they honored the old ones while including new original ones that were awesome (cough forevermore cough cough)

Gaaaaaastonnnnnnnnnnnn omg that sequence was awesome. honestly i think everyone in the theater tapped their foot when he was stomping and dancing on the tabletops

Belle was really good too to me because i’m a nerd for that set design

Days in the Sun is extremely underrated!! but yes, Forevermore is breathtaking it’s growing on me more and more each day

lots of rotating cinematography and spinning i’m a nerd i love it

the costume and set design.... holy crAP it’s stunning

i read somewhere that Belle’s casual getup has large pockets for her books and she has part of her skirt pinned up so she can ride Philipe easier and that’s beautiful

each scene was packed with tiny details that most movie makers overlook and I’m so impressed???? not just visually but there were so many sounds that truly made it feel real like in the village I’d occasionally hear a crying baby or a dog barking or just constant chatter and that’s stuff you’d expect to hear in a crowded village square

the little twinkling lights during the ballroom dance was probably my favorite i may have cried

No one ever say anything bad about Belle’s dress again IT WAS SO GORGEOUS it floated across the floor like a bundle of sunshine

and there were so many details in that scene? did anybody notice her gold earrings she wore they were wonderful

her hairstyles throughout the whole movie were so cute (esp at the end with that updo!! and that pretty flower dress I need it)

the historical accuracies??? unreal??

so much baroque architecture with all of the elaborate gold designs ahhh i love it

half of it looked like a rococo painting, the other half a neoclassicism painting

girls weren’t allowed to be educated so that’s why Belle was hated so much--and so cool--and ohhhh my mind is blown why did i not understand this until now

lol a giant chunk of France was illiterate at the time too so LeFou realizing that halfway through trying to spell Gaston was hilarious

actually the mob song in general is scarily accurate. what starts with a small discomfort turns into irrational fear which turns into extremism in crowds and they did the stupidest things like “hey there’s a monster that we’ve never seen or heard of and it’s never attacked us before but LETS KILL IT” seriously the French loved mobs

they included a lot more intimate moments w Belle and the Beast to build up their relationship more carefully 

Belle almost in tears when she was in that library because honestly same girl

my favorite moment in the entire movie, although small, was when they were in the library during “Something There” and she just kept grabbing book after book and he was walking behind her holding this massive stack that was so cute

honorable mentions: when the Beast shook his head like the horse omg. and I freaking cackled when he threw that giant snowball at her face

when they were in Paris, and Belle figured out that her mother died of the plague and she said “let’s go home”

she just rode off while still wearing her ball dress

“no time to change gotta go save my pa i’m keeping this btw”

and then she strips down to her undergarments because they’re about to go after Adam and that’s the final straw nobody messes with him under her watch she has to save him and, sorry, but she won’t let a big bulky dress get in the way of that despite how beautiful it is

Belle participated in the climax fight scene she was not taking any of Gaston’s crap

and then Adam was like “stay there I’m coming” and she completely ignored him so she could step in if he needed her

“I am not a Beast”

the transformation scenes were amazing

LeFou’s character arc was surprisingly great! and I support him and his boyfriend

that one growl at the end... you know the one... I’m very confused why was that so sexy is that bad

there were so many moments where i got goosebumps and sudden tears from the swelling of the orchestra or a certain chilling line and i was just so moved by this movie

in every showing that i went to there was a massive applause from the crowd and i love it you deserve it disney

I'm running out of adjectives

There was hardly an aspect that I disliked. Maybe more of Mrs Potts would’ve been nice, maybe Belle asking Adam to grow a beard was a little strange, maybe Ewan could work on his French accent a little more (don’t get me wrong I love this man but it could use a little more work... other than that his acting was superb). my complaints stop there! I honestly loved this film so much and I’d been pumped since I first heard about it back in 2015. It didn’t disappoint! that means a lot coming from a person who had insanely high expectations for it.