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[thosehallowedhalls]

(can be for nora- but im down to hear about anyone else's chaos lol)- what is the most chaotic thing your oc has ever done?

Ayy thanks so much! (I'll answer for Nora because she is far from the 'stress-ball-squeezing, tea-drinking, calm-and-composed' person she wants to be)

Chaotic things Nora has done:

Vandalized school walls with graffiti as a kid (like father like daughter) simply because they kicked her out for having mental health problems

Breaking the precinct's coffee machine within minutes of quitting the police force.

Raising birds and a cat in her college dorm with her roommate/girlfriend and nearly getting kicked out because of it.

Getting high on her first meeting with Mafalda.

Speaking only in Cantonese in therapy sessions after her therapist insisted and coerced her into opening up more. She was 14 bullying a 40 year old.

Coaching a middle school girls' soccer team and getting bullied by the very same. (She led them to back-to-back victories in the finals before she decided to step down because fuck the secondhand parental pressure)

Having guys in the most unexpected of places. (Besides the basics - coffee shop baristas, bodega owners, taxi drivers, etc; she has friends who work in the New York Harbour, own olive farms, physiotherapists, are botanists, work in art installation, improv comedians, janitors at churches, schools and parks, ramen shop owners, sandwich guys etc etc)

Pirating college textbooks, expensive digital media and almost starting a business out of it. She still has pendrives full of it in her house.

Getting morbidly into those home improvement mobile games when she joined the force and within a few short years, regards her only accomplishment out of those years, as being able to get to level 40-doobly-doo or something and having like 500 XP points.

Thinks she has the best taste in films (cmon she needs a bit of ego in something) and upon receiving any unsolicited film recommendations, going - "I've seen that and it is terrible, my man." regardless whether she's seen it or not.

Having tons of opportunities after graduating from college (she was really studious, channeling her inner Asian perfectionism and she could have literally gotten into any postgrad program of her choice. Uncle Tommy insisted she try her hand at law or medicine) but doubling down, wanting to make quick money fast, not have to deal with a ton of academics and joining the police department (out of all the chaotic things she's done, this is the most irredeemable)

[thosehallowedhalls]

No nuance to these answers because I'm trying to see what everyone thinks 👀

[thosehallowedhalls]

[thosehallowedhalls]

Seize the day, boys. Make your lives extraordinary.

DEAD POETS SOCIETY dir. Peter Weir

[thosehallowedhalls]

When people get a little too gung-ho about-

wait. cancel post. gung-ho cannot be English. where did that phrase come from? China?

ok, yes. gōnghé, which is…an abbreviation for “industrial cooperative”? Like it was just a term for a worker-run organization? A specific U.S. marine stationed in China interpreted it as a motivational slogan about teamwork, and as a commander he got his whole battalion using it, and other U.S. marines found those guys so exhausting that it migrated into English slang with the meaning “overly enthusiastic”.

That’s…wild. What was I talking about?

[thosehallowedhalls]

Star-struck. 💫

This artwork was commissioned by rookie_ate_ethans_chicken (on instagram) for @otherworldlypresents ! 💕 Always great to draw Raleigh fluff. ✨

[thosehallowedhalls]

April 23, 1929 Journals of Anais Nin 1927-1931  [volume 4]

[thosehallowedhalls]

Besties rendezvous 🤍

[thosehallowedhalls]

This is such lovely feedback 🥺 I'm so glad you enjoyed this! I haven't really developed River, this is the first time I've written her, but I might expand on this one.

Thank you for reading!

Time

Book: Kindred

Pairing: Rainier (M!Guardian) x River Morrigan (F!MC)

Rating: General audiences

Category: Angst

Word count: 165

Summary: River reflects on her relationship with Rainier.

A/N: Drabble 21 of my 30 days of drabbles. Another one I plan to revisit when I'm in the mood to rip my own heart out.

She finds her first white hair at 32.

She almost doesn’t see it, camouflaged as it is amidst all the platinum blonde. But as she inches ever closer to the mirror to better apply her eyeliner, she spots it. Right above her left temple. A reminder that time passes for them all.

But that isn’t quite true, is it?

“River? Are you ready?”

Rainier’s voice comes from somewhere on the first floor. For once, the sound of it doesn’t fill her with warmth and a sense of belonging, a conviction that there is nothing they can’t do if only they’re together. Instead, it augments the foreboding that’s gripped her since her eyes fell on the visual reminder of the aging process. A process she will go through alone, year after year, until she’s in her sixties and he still looks thirty. Until the day he looks at her and sees a stranger.

She meets her reflection’s stricken gaze. “No,” she calls back. “I’m not ready.”

[thosehallowedhalls]

Thank you for reading and sharing! 💜

Movement

Book: Crimes of Passion

Pairing: M!Trystan Thorne x Emma Rose (F!MC)

Rating: Teen

Word count: 250

Summary: Trystan reflects on the way Emma moves. Submission for @choicesaprilchallenge24, prompt: river.

A/N: I wanted to try something different for day eight of my 30 days of drabbles. Inspired by Hozier's song.

She moves like water.

He once told her that she carries herself like a New Yorker. Even then, Trystan knew that didn’t quite capture it. Emma moves like water, not the serene flow of a lake, but the frenzied ripple of a river: fluid, strong, single-minded. Like all the obstacles in her way are little more than rocks to flow around, flow against, eroding them with the sheer force of her will. Watching her, he��s reminded of a maelstrom feeding the rippling surface, all energy and power and life.

Trystan hasn’t attempted to write poetry since preadolescence, but since the moment he first crossed paths with Emma, since their lives merged like a river meeting the ocean, he finds himself itching to put pen to paper and try to capture the intangible. Instead, he watches her, hoping to find words for what logic tells him is no more than kinetics.

It doesn’t matter what she’s doing. Whether she’s walking, her determined stride its own kind of poetry; dancing in his arms, or moving against him at night, her movement compels him. Moves him. He could watch her for hours, and sometimes does, sneaking glances when she’s not looking. Even now, months later, he’s no closer to understanding what about her motion draws him to her, what plunges him into her rapids, submerging him under the choppy waters as they crest and crash around him. It takes his breath away, every goddamn time.

And lord, he never wants to come up for air.

[thosehallowedhalls]

Thanks for sharing, @delmissesryanandcassi!

An Awkward Interval

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Casey Valentine (F!MC)

Rating: Teen

Word count: ~550

Summary: Before leaving Miami, Casey knows she has to talk to Ethan.

A/N: For @jerzwriter, who gave me the prompt Ethan, Casey, Elevator. Drabble 17 of my 30 days of drabbles.

The silence echoes around them.

All right, technically, it isn’t silent. There are other people in the elevator, half of whom are talking with no regards to the fact that others can hear them discuss their plans for the day, what they did the day before and, in one particularly loud case, who they did the day before.  But as far as Ethan and Casey goes? The Pathology Department at Edenbrook is livelier.

She supposes she should have seen this coming. Ethan’s reaction to their kiss did foretell in giant neon letters that awkwardness was incoming. But she hasn’t felt this awkward since middle school.

That is not an age she wants to relive, thank you very much.

The elevator makes one stop, then another. People begin to filter out until they’re the only two occupants left. Ethan has been steadily stepping away from her, step by sneaky step until they’re on two opposing ends.

Right. She can’t handle another two and a half years of this.

“Aren’t we going to talk about it?”

Ethan continues to stare straight ahead. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Seriously? You know exactly what I mean.”

Silence.

“Eth- Doctor Ramsey. You can’t pretend you don’t know what I mean. Come on, you can’t even look at me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn't it? Then why are you staring at the control panel like it’s one of your patients?”

He shifts on his feet, and if she weren’t so frustrated, she’d find the gesture adorable.

Okay, maybe she still does. Just a little bit. But not enough to distract her from her mission.  

“We kissed.”

His throat bobs. “And we agreed it was a mistake, so I don’t see the point in talking about it.”

“Because if you keep being weird about it, everyone will know something happened. That’s kind of the opposite of why you walked away, isn’t it?” She puts a hand on his arm and… does she imagine the slight shudder that rocks him? “Ethan.”

He exhales. “You are… correct.”

“Oh, wow. I didn’t think I’d ever hear you say those words out loud. I didn’t know you were capable of thinking those words.”

“Casey.” With a strangled laugh, Ethan turns to look at her. “Don’t push it.”

“Can’t blame a girl for having a little fun.”

He ignores her. “You are correct, of course. My behavior towards you needs to remain the same as… before.”

“Perhaps not quite the same. I wouldn’t mind if you forgot to chew me out now and then.”

“I thought you wanted me to act normal.”

“How about normal-lite?”

He laughs. She tries not to melt at the sound. “Let’s go with normal and see what happens.”

“Deal.”

She smiles at him. He smiles back.

After a moment, it occurs to her that they’re just… staring at each other, their smiles having fallen without her notice. Her eyes drop to his mouth, and she can tell from his soft inhalation that he noticed.

“Casey…” Their faces are inches apart, and she vaguely wonders which one of them leaned in first. “I…”

The elevator doors open again, and four people walk in. Ethan jumps back, his back firmly against the wall, his gaze falling anywhere but on Casey.

She runs a frustrated hand through her hair.

So much for normal.

[thosehallowedhalls]

Ahhh I love this comment.

This description is just perfection!!! I want to live in that moment. The glistening water, the stars, fae fish, dancing fireflies... i beg any artist here to please please capture this scene!!! 🥹😍🥰

As someone who finds descriptions to be my weakest spot, this is marvelous to read 😍

Ooooh I love this!!! The intense, immediate craving of her. I am so here for it.

No joke, I melted when Tyril said this to Raine after their first kiss.

I'm so glad you enjoyed this!

A Midnight Chat

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow

Pairing: Tyril Starfury x F!human!MC

Rating: Teen

Word count: 613

Summary: Raine interrupts Tyril's reflections.

A/N: For @petalouda85 who gave me the prompt "fireflies." Drabble 19 of my 30 days of drabbles.

Tyril hones his sword, his eyes on the horizon. Fae fish continue to appear every now and then, their scales glinting, and sea fireflies dance an intricate choreography that’s breathtaking in its splendor. The moon shines bright and clear against the depth of the sky, casting a pure glow on the deck of the Sun Maiden.

Too bad he’s too caught up in thought to appreciate any of it.

His mind, as usual, is on his mission. It has been almost a year since he set out on this quest, a year since he left Undermount, disgraced and betrayed. Since he lost his best friend to the darkness of the Shadow Court. And he has almost nothing to show for it except a few killings of people who were no more than pawns.

Perhaps his luck will turn now that he’s encountered this party of adventurers.

His new companions are… interesting, he thinks diplomatically. Determined, clearly, and not without abilities. He senses a tremendous amount of raw, if dormant, power from the priestess; and he thinks the rogue’s less reputable skills might prove useful.

Then there’s Raine.

He’s still surprised by the strength of his reaction to her. It’s rare for him to crave someone at first sight. He rarely craves people: his infatuations tend to begin small, a mild interest that grows into something bigger and more intense as he gets to know its object. But as soon as he laid eyes on Raine, he wanted her.

He doesn’t like it. He can’t afford to lose control, not even of his own emotions. Perhaps especially not of his own emotions.

“Still watching the fae fish?” A voice asks, and for an absurd moment, he wonders if he summoned her.

“Not anymore.”

She walks up to him and rests her elbows on the railing. “Mind if I ask what’s on your mind?”

“You may ask. But I may choose not to answer.”

“You can say you were thinking about me, Tyril,” she teases, unaware of the fact that her words are at least partially true. “I won’t judge you.”

“If you must know, I was contemplating the requirements of my quest.”

“Considering your scowl, they might not be very nice.”

“Requirements are rarely ‘nice’.”

“You got me there. What are these requirements?”

He looks at the sea. “Control. Of myself, of my circumstances as much as possible.”

“That doesn’t seem like something that would be too hard for you.” When he turns to her, she waves a hand in his direction. “I mean, control seems to be your thing. Self-control at least. Of your circumstances…”

She breaks off, a look on her face that he’s seen in his own reflection. It’s a look of regret. Of helplessness.

“Yes?”

“Well. Are we ever truly in control of our circumstances?”

He leans against the railing. “Perhaps not completely, but I believe we can bend them to our will on occasion.”

“An optimist. I like it. Well.” She straightens and gives him a little wave. “I better go back to bed.”

“Raine.” He might not know her, but he thinks he knows what she needs right now. When she looks at him, he gives her a solemn look. “I will assist however I can in the search of your brother. You have my word.”

She smiles, a little sadly. “Thanks, Tyril. I appreciate that.”

Once she’s gone, Tyril’s thoughts don’t immediately turn back to his quest. Instead, he thinks back to his last words. He didn’t stop to think before he said them, which would alarm him on any other day. But now, remembering the look in Raine’s eyes, he can’t bring himself to regret them.

[thosehallowedhalls]

I know! I adore it. 💜

I've admired @bayleedraws-sometimesx's beautiful work since I joined Tumblr, so when I saw she had opened emergency commissions, I knew I had to get one. Here are Trystan and Emma, probably holding hands in public while somehow still believing they're being discreet.

Thank you, Baylee! I absolutely love this 🥰

[thosehallowedhalls]

Me, watching fictional characters avoid difficult conversations: Just talk! How difficult could it be?

Also me, wanting to tell someone who cut in front of me in line to wait for their turn: I physically can't get the words out.

We love a hypocrite.

[thosehallowedhalls]

"A cishet person must have made this, no queer person would ever portray queerness in this way."

"This artist must be white."

"No SA victim would ever handle the subject in this way."

"No woman would ever write women like this."

"This creator is obviously neurotypical. Everyone with autism/ADHD/depression understands-"

Nope.

People who make these blanket statements are very frequently proven wrong when the creator comes out as a member of that group. And even when they aren't proven wrong, even in cases where the creator isn't from the group in question, actual members of the group who don't fit whatever arbitrary criteria are being expressed will see these statements and feel excluded and erased.

Not everyone in your group is going to share your experiences. No single individual gets to personally decide what does or doesn't count as a "valid" expression of trauma or being part of a particular group, and creators are also not obligated to out themselves in order to "prove" their validity.

If something doesn't resonate with you, all that means is that it doesn't resonate with you. You don't have to like it. But you don't get to decide what it means to someone else.

[thosehallowedhalls]

The sort of work that feels like play

[thosehallowedhalls]

Hardest of Hearts is such a Sebastyan song. Not the first stanza, but everything else.