and it is without a doubt my favorite piece

it happens in the moments
you drink hot tea reading your favorite book
or in the highlight of laughter with friends
or you walk along a sunset-touched road
during a summer evening
you realize that life goes on
whether it’s in cherry blossom, dancing delicately to birdsongs
or in nymph-kissed rainy forests, in the sweet beginning of autumn
it’s all a matter of unconditional love to everything
and you think you’re rereading closed books,
but really you’re creating nothing out of nothing
when you already have everything right in front of your eyes
i live with these stories inside of my head
wandering and wishing for a rebirth
sometimes with doubt, sometimes without
but this is an art in progress, a heart in progress
and that’s when i realize that
life is working in your favor
more than you think
life is working for you
spreading words after word
in forward ink
you were never really stuck to begin with
it will all fall in pieces you’ll be happy with
and it happens in moments
so don’t wait for your “moving on” to happen in a split second
it might be when you’re drinking hot tea reading your favorite book
you realize that you forgot the sound of his voice
or in the highlight of laughter with friends
you realize a lost friend hasn’t crossed your mind at all today
or when you walk along a sunset-touched road
during a summer evening
you realize that life goes on
and you’re already happy with your pieces
just the way they are
—  tina jaxén // moments of pieces
Soulmates... I think (Scott McCall) Part 2

Originally posted by aimingforolicity

PART 1   PART 2   PART 3

@lotte142​ // @minnie-boss17

alright, part 1 of “Soulmates… I think” has gotten such a good response and i’m really proud of it, but honestly, i’m nervous to write a part 2 that’s gonna ruin that (i literally have no plan for this, so we’ll see what happens lol)

again, this ending needs another part, so let me know if you want it!

warning(s): bad words, but what else is new?

Dear Diary,

It’s been a depressing few weeks to say the least.  I’ve had my head down, trying to ignore any and all distractions that would keep me from doing what I need to do to get the hell out of this school and move on to college.  Besides having a huge work load and a part-time job after school, I’ve been heading to the local library and using the modern miracle of Google to see if there are stories of someone finding a soulmate who doesn’t reciprocate.

So far?  No luck.  I am literally the only one.  On the face of the earth.  Great.  Fucking wonderful.

The only good thing to come out of this is the fact that I now can confirm that the sky is blue and the grass is green.  Since I’ve made no friends and haven’t really tried, I use my small window of free time to lay a blanket out at the park a block from my house and watch the vibrant world go by.  Depressing, I know.  But what else can I do?  The person I am supposed to spend the rest of my life with, the person who my soul is attached to, is a dud.

It is official, I am changing my name and moving to Alaska.  This might be the last time we get to talk, Diary.  It’s been real.


I lay my head back and it bangs against the wall.  I’ve heard it’s better to write things down, but all it’s doing is showing me how utterly pathetic my life has turned out to be.  At the ripe age of eighteen, no less.  I sigh and rip the page out, rolling it into a ball and tossing it at my wastebasket.  I glance at my clock and see it’s 6:55.  Another day of Beacon Hills hell begins.

As I open the double doors to start another uneventful day, my eyes meet those baby brown ones I will never be able to forget.  My heart begins to race and I look away, ducking into my Bio class, which, in hindsight, will only delay Scott and my interaction until the bell rings.

“Good morning, Mrs. Finch.”  Since my first day, I have been able to work my way to becoming a favorite of hers.  Without using names, I have told her what my current situation is.  Being a smart lady, she has no doubt been able to put the pieces together that this mysterious soulmate is Scott.  Because of this, she has rotated everyone’s seats, so now I am partnered with the smartest person in the room, Lydia Martin.  She and Scott seem to be friends.  I manage to overlook this because one, she hasn’t mentioned him (yet) and two, every partner test and lab report has a huge 100% written across the top.  Again, I’m just keeping my head down and trying to get out of here and never look back.

I know I’m expected to mope and fall into sadness, but I can’t afford to do that.  I am going to stay strong and accept that I am going to make the story of my life one that doesn’t include a love interest.  It’s just me, myself, and I.

Scott’s POV

“You know, just because you don’t want to deal with this, doesn’t mean it’s going to magically go away.  You might as well accept it and move on.  Talk to her or ask her out.  Something.”  Another day, another stern talking-to.

“Lydia, please, it’s way too early for this.  I get that this girl is my soulmate and we belong together or whatever, but like I’ve explained a million times, she’ll forever be in danger if I tell her that I saw color the moment our eyes met.  It isn’t fair to bring her into our world.”  She turns her head to look at me, lips slightly parted and eyebrows drawn together.  “I’m sorry, but you don’t know the struggle I’m having with this.  Stiles saw color since the first moment he saw you and by the time you really saw him and how he was yours, you were both already aware of the fact that monsters exist.  This girl hasn’t had to deal with any of that.  She can be spared.  She can live an exciting and normal life.”  I conjure up a pleading look that lets Lydia know to drop the subject.

“Scott, I love you, but there is nothing exciting about being normal.  You of all people should know that.”  With this, she shrugs and enters Mrs. Finch’s room, leaving me in the hallway to think about what she has just said.

After a few minutes of silent anger over the fact that no one in my life is proud of the selfless decision I have made regarding this soulmate business, I realize the bell has rung and I am alone, signaling another day in hell that starts with talk of phenotypes and alleles.  Great.

Right when I walk in, my eyes find the curve of her cheekbones and the elegant stroke of her cursive as she copies down the words on the blackboard.  There is a slight crease between her brows and she nibbles on her pink lips as she concentrates on the topic at hand.  The way her body moves is like a dance, so smooth and choreographed.  I am pulled out of the trance by my hip hitting the corner of a lab table.

“Mr. McCall, is my teaching interrupting something?  If you need some time, please take it to the hall.”

“No, Mrs. Finch, I’m good.  Sorry.”  Satisfied with my answer, she turns back to her lesson and I find my seat.  After I have done so, I turn back to the girl who was the source of my interest in the first place and find she is already scowling at me.  She mouths “stop” and turns back around.  It is going to be harder to resist her than I had originally thought.

end of Scott’s POV

“Alright, guys, the lab is getting passed back right now.  When you get it, put your names at the top and gather your materials.  Don’t forget to answer the questions on the back when you have finished.”  I sigh and grab a petri dish from the top drawer of our lab table.

I see Lydia flick her hair from her shoulder as I set everything up.  She licks her lips and clears her throat.  “So, rumor has it, you found your soulmate.”  Shit, she finally brought up what I wish would remain untouched.

With my heart beating strong in my chest, I reply.  “I did, but I don’t think we’re gonna work out.”  Trying my best to keep things nonchalant, I shrug and suggest we start working, hoping she takes a hint and drops the subject.  “Okay, so I put the clear solution in this flask and we just have to…”  I speak to fill the empty air between Lydia and me, hoping she doesn’t report my dismissive answer back to the man himself.

What I don’t know is that she doesn’t need to tell him because he has heard everything… and it breaks his heart, more than he would ever admit.

After another day and another headache, I head home to get ready for my job, which is a few hours a day working at a frozen yogurt shop.  I know, it’s boring as hell, but it pays the bills (or it would, if I didn’t live with my parents).  It’s only a ten minute walk from my house, which I use to take in more of the colors this world has to offer and think about how this whole soulmate thing will play out.  It’s crazy to me that only a little while ago, I had wished to find my person more than anything and now, I wish I could ask the metaphorical manager of this soulmate business if I could get a refund or trade Scott in for someone who wants to love me back.

To distract myself from spiraling into a hole of frustration, I chuck on my ugly uniform shirt, some basic shoes and pants, and head out, calling a goodbye to my mom.  I take the time alone to once again remind myself that although Scott has hurt me, it doesn’t mean everyone else in this town will.  And just because he is some popular, kind, cute, funny, wildly fit-


Just because a lot of people know him, doesn’t mean they know he’s my soulmate.  I can still make friends without interacting with Scott McCall.  I just need to try a little harder.  Do you hear that, self?  Try harder.  Make an effort.  Okay?  Okay.

Before I know it, I am pulling the door open to take over for the person finishing their shift before me.  I get set up, plug my phone into the speaker system, and put on some chill music.  Since this place doesn’t get much traffic in terms of customers, I am basically alone here, free to steal some candy from the toppings bar and relax.

Right as I am loosening my shoulders and leaning back against the stool in front of the register, the bell rings and none other than Lydia Martin enters.  Followed by some other people I’ve seen around Beacon Hills High and…


Oh, shit.  He’s here.  We make eye contact and I look down, cheeks blazing.  I can’t believe he is here.  Oh lord, is this what drowning feels like?  He is here, in this tiny shop, walking towards me.  Oh my-

“Hi, lab partner!! I didn’t know you worked here!”  I am caught off guard by Lydia’s chipper nature as she greets me like I’m an old friend.

“Hi, Lydia.  Nice to see you.”  Come on, man up and make friends.  “What brings you here?”

“Oh, we just came for something sweet,” she finished this and grins, grabbing a cup and heading for the chocolate yogurt.  Looking over her shoulder, she continues.  “Guys, this is my lab partner in Mrs. Finch’s Bio class.”  I give a slight smile and wave at all of them.  The brunette boy with the big brown eyes and moles jumps slightly and basically yells.

“You’re the one.  You saw color when you looked at Scott and he-”

He is interrupted by a whack on the back of the head.  Lydia follows up.  “I’m sorry, Stiles here doesn’t really have a filter, but he means no harm.”

“It’s fine, really.  And to address the elephant in the room, I do see color now.  Thanks to your friend Scott.  Things just didn’t really hold up on his end, which is no one’s fault.”  I look at Scott and he is trying to busy himself by adding toppings and doesn’t say anything.  “Okay, I’ll ring up whoever’s ready.”

Gosh, acting as if this doesn’t bother me is proving extremely hard.  On my walk home, I admittedly let a few tears out, heartbroken that this is how the rest of my life will be.  I will fade into history as the only girl who died without ever having their person.  I guess whoever pairs everyone was tired when it came time for me.  He or she gave Scott two soulmates and I drew the short straw.

I am so pre-occupied that I don’t notice the bushes shaking and the glowing eyes until it is too late.  There is a sharp pain in my temple and everything goes dark.

thanks for all the feedback and interest you guys have shown for this series // i really love it and I’m so happy you do, too!

I finallly finish one piece I’ve been working on!

The Beatles: Yellow Submarine LEGO set review

By Simple Cash

One of my favorite bands ever, without a doubt, is the Beatles. Wether you like them or not, chances are you have definitely heard about them or listened to at least a couple of their songs. They are, indisputably, one of the most influential bands to ever walk this planet.

When I first found about this set, I admit I thought it was a fake. I mean, it was too good to be true, right? Wrong. This set is just fantastic, specially for Beatles fans; it makes a killer piece for display. Let’s get to it!

Let’s start by talking about the box itself. The front design is simply beautiful, showing us the Yellow Submarine over a dark blue background decorated with psychedelic, colorful shapes that perfectly fit the tone of the Yellow Submarine movie and the Beatles overall.

In front of the submarine, we see Paul, John, Ringo and George on a brick-built stand with nicely printed “Yellow Submarine” tile, next to them is the Jeremy minifigure.

The back is pretty much the same, and I won’t go into much detail here (or in the sides)

I apologize, as the box got pretty dangled during the flight; it looks beautiful, nevertheless.

Now, onto the submarine itself:

The build is definitely bigger than we have anticipated, and it is also way more stunning than we thought. The colors of the submarine are just sublime, combining the classic “Yellow LEGO” with the more recently introduced “Mango-yellow” it adds a feeling of complexity to the naturally simple design of the submarine. The cartoonish printed tile on both sides of the sail (yes, I had to Google “submarine part names”) is just a perfect fit. Let’s take a closer look at the minifigures:

Starting form left to right, we have Mr. John Lennon. He sports a black jacket with green and magenta details, which adds a nice groovy touch. His legs are light and dark purple, and he is holding what seems to be a telescope. 

Next, we have my personal favorite beatle, Mr. Paul McCartney; he’s left handed, just like me! He is holding a nice 1x2 tile that has “LOVE” printed on it. He rocks a dark purple vest over a purple shirt and has a yellow and red oversized tie. He has khaki legs with some purple printing representing part of his vest.

I have to be totally honest with you, I had no idea what George Harrison is holding, but apparently, it’s the engine. He has a nice light brown torso with some green around the neck, and plain black legs.

Mr. Ringo Starr is last. He has a red and blue striped torso with an orange and purple tie. I think this is one of the coolest torso pieces I have seen, and in makes up for the lack of leg printing (same case with the George Harrison mini figure).

All four Beatles have alternate face prints:

Finally, we have the Jeremy minifigure holding a green apple. Not much to say about him, but he’s one of our favorite mini figures.

Before taking a look at the inside of the submarine, we’ll take a quick look at the periscopes (at least that’s what I think they are!) I really like the way these came out, specially the ingenious use of the hot dogs.

Oh, and don’t forget the two nice little red propellers on the back of the submarine:

The inside of the submarine is an amazing (and really fun build), mainly because of how detailed it is. At this point I should highlight that there are no stickers in this set, everything you see is printed, which is actually really cool and pretty uncommon nowadays (except maybe for other Idea sets or Junior sets).

I believe all (or at least most) of these tiles are exclusive to this set, but then again, I could be mistaken!

Fun fact: this tile reads “1968″ and it’s a reference to the year that the Beatles’ movie, “Yellow Submarine” was released.

I really like those little knobs and meters, they look really nice and the color selection is marvelous.

The set also includes a nice brick-built stand that makes up a great display, and while we found it particularly tricky to build, it’s completely worth the pain. 

This is a great set. Aesthetically speaking it looks perfect, LEGO nailed the look, period. Apart from that, it was a really fun build, and it was even more fun because I built it with my best friend Simple Dan, and watching it take shape was great. I would definitely recommend you get this set, wether you’re a long-time Beatle fan or just want a nice piece of display for your collection.

I hope you enjoyed this review, take care you guys!

day 6: lady of death [madasaku]


Sakura’s anticipation rises as she approaches the slanted little shack on the waterfront. It is made of old, rotting wood, the kind that creaks and shifts in a way that makes you fear for your safety.

Sakura, however, knows that the shed is deceptively strong. She pulls open the door, smiling as she takes in her yellow kayak. It leans against the wall and Sakura moves forward eagerly to pull it away, dragging it out onto the rocks and sand. She sets it down, placing the paddle beside it and pulling on her kayak skirt.

Sakura gazes out at the nearly still water, looking like a black mirror. The sky is overcast and grey and she can make out the craggy rocks on the horizon. She finishes prepping herself before stepping into the kayak.

Sakura glances down, eyes catching on something sparkly.

“Huh,” she murmurs, before picking it up.

She holds it up to the weak light of the sun, turning it so the multiple colors could shine. It is roughly cut, not polished in the least but Sakura can still recognize it as her friend Hinata owns some as family heirlooms.

A crystal opal.

Sakura hefts it in her hand, thumb smoothing over the rough edges. She isn’t quite sure the worth of the stone but she slips it into a pocket and takes a seat in the kayak. She promises herself to text Hinata or Neji later and ask. Honestly, it isn’t the first time that Sakura has found something in her kayak and she doubts it is the last.

So resolved, Sakura puts it out of her mind as she scooches forward, hands grabbing her paddle and pushing into the water.

The kayak sluices through the water, creating large ripples.

Sakura falls into the easy habit of paddling, switching from side to side with a simple rhythm. This is her element; where she feels most at peace. The enjoyable burn in her arms, the stretch through her shoulders, her bright yellow kayak sturdy beneath her, the scent of salt and brine are as familiar as they are comforting.

This is what she loves most, getting out on the kayak and exploring the rock islands that surround her home.

Sakura hums to herself, her paddling matching the song she sings. When she is out here, her worries seem to melt away. There is only herself, the water, and her trusty kayak.

Sakura makes her way to one of the stony islands, releasing her skirt and stepping out of the kayak into the shallows. She slogs the kayak up onto the rocks and dons her black gloves. They are a gift from Karin, made of a sturdy, flexible material.

Sakura loves them.

She draws her hair up and out of her face into a high ponytail before moving to the rocky structures that make up the islands off the coast of Konoha. There is something eerie about them, the way the dark shale builds in nearly straight formations. There are ghost stories surrounding these islands and their origins but it has never bothered Sakura.

After all, this shale is perfect for climbing.

Sakura begins to scale the rocks, well-used to searching out the grooves and dips perfect for holds. She has been systematically exploring the myriad of islands for years now but it never gets old to her. She can spend hours out here among the rocks, enjoying her solitude and the nature that presses in on her from every side.

So she does.

She immerses herself in climbing and exploring, taking in the breeze on her bare neck and the rolling waves far below. Sakura loses herself in her activity until she finds herself at the top of the precipice.

Sakura looks down at the world around her, Konoha seeming small and insignificant from where she stands. This is her kingdom and she is queen.

Sakura hunkers down, feet dangling easily from the side as she pulls her map and water bottle free of her pack. The map is hand-drawn and lovingly cared for. With delicate and sure strokes, Sakura adds in the details of the newly explored island.

The flapping of wings distracts her.

Sakura turns, yelping and rolling away from the edge as she takes in what should have been a bird.

It should have been, though truly perhaps she could call it…him “half bird.” The…entity is tall and covered in dark shiny feathers. His hair is long and his eyes are red. He wears a long grey tunic that stretches past his thighs. What concerns Sakura perhaps the most are the large talons that he has for feet.

Sakura does what any rational person would do.

She greets him.

Honestly, it isn’t the strangest thing that has happened to her in Konoha, not by a long shot.

“Hello,” she says, scrambling to her feet.

The being cocks his head to the side. There is something strangely adorable about the action but Sakura isn’t in the best frame of mind to appreciate the gesture.

“Did you like the shiny?” he asks, voice rumbling through the area.

“The…shiny?” Sakura asks thoughtfully. She digs around in her pocket for a second, grabbing the opal. “You mean this?”

He nods eagerly and moves toward her. “Do you like it?”

Sakura nods. “Sure. It’s…nice.”

The…man comes to stand before her, staring down at her. There is something so obviously bird-like about him in his mannerisms. Sakura wishes Karin was there; she knows the supernatural entities better than she. A wing comes up and a feathered hand grabs at the necklace that she wears there.

It is a tourmaline crystal, one of the first that Sakura found in her kayak so many months before. It is the colors of a sunset, purples and oranges and yellows all blending together into a beautiful composition. It is, without a doubt, Sakura’s favorite piece of jewelry.

Now Sakura feels her face flush for an inexplicable reason as the man rubs fingers over the stone, smile wide and genuine.

“You wear my first gift to you,” he murmurs.

“These are from you?” Sakura asks. “Who are you?”

“I am Madara, my dear Sakura,” he replies. Madara bends his head over the necklace, pressing his lips to it. “Your consort.”

hufflepuff-basil  asked:

Can you pick between Falsettos and The New Normal please? (If you want to, can you explain?? Please??)

Oh, Falsettos, all the way. Without even a doubt in my mind or a second of hesitation. I would pick Falsettos over anything ever because it is my favorite literary, creative piece. It is well-rounded with very deep societal critiques and commentary and the characters are very well-developed with individual personalities and flaws and redeeming qualities and the lyrics just SHAKE me to the CORE sometimes and the melodies make the experience of listening/watching it so enriching and I love William Finn a whole, whole lot.

I’ll be honest: I think the New Normal is a mostly cute show. It gets a little dicey and sometimes it’s a little cringe, but overall, I was pleasantly surprised by how much I liked it given that I had only started watching it for Andrew Rannells. 

The New Normal and Falsettos is alike in a way that they both tackle struggles that gay people face in a certain time period (Falsettos: internalized homophobia and toxic masculinity and the AIDS crisis. New Normal: internalized stereotypes and societal homophobia and gay people fighting for their rights to adopt and raise a child). But Falsettos just has so much more depth and better writing and I just love Falsettos characters more.

I like them both, but I love Falsettos a whole lot more than words can tell.

Knuckles Matoi and the Ultimate Life Fiber, Shadetsu!

((An amazing collaboration with myself and one of my best friends zackilada! I did the pencils and she did the coloring and shading! This is without-a-doubt my favorite piece of crossover/Knuxadow fan art and I’m still getting chills over the incredible job she did making it look so official! Please, go check her out, commission her, and give her lots of love!))

Knuckles is going to get revenge for the mass-murder of his entire race while wearing one of the most powerful outfits, Shadetsu! Let’s kick some ass! 

sauropolis-princeps  asked:

What's your favorite speculative evolution creature?

The best animal to ever appear in a piece of speculative-evolution fiction is, without a doubt, the gannet whale.

Appearing in the “documentary” mini-series The Future Is Wild (which a lot of my mutuals are talking about right now), the gannet whale is the descendant of the modern gannet, a species of diving seabirds.  However, the gannetwhale has discarded its ancestor’s nimbleness and ability to fly, in favor of becoming whale-sized and purely aquatic.

Keep in mind, there’s no indication that whales have gone extinct in the world of The Future Is Wild.  There’s no reason given as to why this ecological niche would be open, or why a flying animal would take on this role.

Also, the gannetwhale exists about 5 million years after the present day.  We’re led to believe that in 5 million years - an incredibly short timescale from an evolutionary perspective - a flying seabird would expontentially increase in size, lost the ability to fly, and essentially become a straight-up whale, in a world where whales might still exist.

Fun fact: One of the main consultants on A Future Is Wild was Dougal Dixon, a man known to many as “the father of speculative evolution” (and known to me as “the father of making up bullshit”).  He’s authored numerous books on speculative evolution, including one on the potential evolutionary path of humans; one on how dinosaurs might have evolved had they lived to the present day, from the perspective of 1988; and a book called After Man, which has essentially the same premise as The Future Is Wild.  After Man includes a pair of creatures called the vortex and the porpin, which are essentially penguins that have evolved into whales.

For whatever unimaginable reason, Dougal Dixon is fascinated by the idea of birds turning into whales.

Don't lose hope-Ymir is still alive

Guys listen, Ymir being dead makes no sense . Absolutely no sense. Not only would it be terrible writing and not coherent with what Ymir stands for, her values, her beliefs, her goals, but it would also be unfair to Historia, Historia got no word of Ymir, of why Ymir left. Historia knows nothing of Ymir, her real identity, her past, HER LAST NAME. The person that was her biggest support just left like that, without an explanation, don’t you think Historia, at the very least, deserves a proper explanation, a proper farewell in case Ymir does die (however that moment can’t be before they meet again)

Then obviously there are the many, many mysteries surrounding Ymir. How, could all of that be explained if Ymir doesn’t do it herself. As far as we know, Ymir could very well be the last person left of her people, moreover, she’s 77 years old, how many people are still around that are around that age, and were around when Ymir was a child and were close to her that they would be able to tell her story. Ok, you get my point

Also, no character deserves such an end. Being killed off screen, without having heard any news of them for over 2 years, 30 chapters. It’s something I don’t think Isayama would do, especially about a character he’s said that was his favorite and even enjoyed writing.

Now reiner mentioning the promise doesn’t confirm anything. As going by her name alone, Ymir-sama, Ymir must be a very valuable piece, I doubt she was killed as soon as she got to RBA’s village

Our freckled goddess will be back when we least expect it and her comeback will be glorious, mark my words

my least favorite kind of person, without a doubt, is one who is cynical about the human race. people wax poetic about how humans are selfish and greedy and will do anything for money and power and how war is inevitable and there is no such thing as peace and write essay upon essay about how human beings are, at our very core, irredeemable. and i read these pieces of writing, or listen to people talk about humans as if we are inherently bad, and i wonder if these writers and speakers ever look at the world around them. how does one look outside their window or walk down the street and not marvel at human beings? the human race is amazing. people fall in love. people die for each other. people let others in front of them in line, pay for other people’s drinks, kneel down on the sidewalk to help a stranger pick up the contents of their spilled purse. people do heroic things every day - haven’t the cynics ever read a newspaper article about a person who jumped into a freezing cold lake to save a drowning child? haven’t they ever read of people fighting till the death so that their children may live in a better world? haven’t they ever had a stranger smile at them on the street for no reason whatsoever? how does one go through their entire life and see the human race as something that isn’t incredible, extraordinary, shining? how does one not look up and marvel at the buildings humans have dreamt up? how does one open a book and not see what beautiful thoughts human beings hold? terrible things happen every day, even to wonderful people, but how can one be cynical when so much pure good exists in the world?


If you know me, you know that I love not only wine in it of itself, but cooking with wine (or most alcohol really).

I love setting the hella fortified wines up in flames, I love adding wine to my sauces or deglazing meat fond with them. I just. really,.madmlove wine okAY?@!

So it’ll come to you as no surprise when I say that my favorite recipe of all time is, without a doubt, Coq au Vin.

It’s literally a chicken that’s fried in pig fat, and then simmer in a bottle’s worth of wine until it’s fall off the bone tender. 

And, because I love you all, I will teach you this magical recipe, and if you love me, you’ll make this stuff, because it’s just so good for your soul tbh.


Coq au Vin
(serves: 4, or one if you don’t want anyone else to share this beauty w/ u)



  • 1 whole chicken, cut into ten pieces*
  • 6 oz lardons (cut from applewood slab bacon)
  • 2 fl oz brandy
  • 1 oz
  • 48 fl oz wine*
  • 16-20 fl oz chicken stock
  • 4 cloves garlic
  • 2 bay leaves
  • 5 sprigs thyme
  • 6 oz beurre manie*
  • 3 oz cremini mushrooms, thinly sliced

*The pieces should be 2 legs, 2 thighs, 2 wings, and 2 breasts that are both cut in half

*DON’T USE EXPENSIVE WINE. Go for some 9 dollar bottle and you’ll still get great results. I recommend using a cheap cabernet like Joshua or Nicholas

*Beurre Manie is basically butter and flour that’s mixed together till it’s kind of similar to sticky cookie dough. This works as a thickening agent for the stewing liquid so we get a nice sauce for our chicken.



  • Marinate your chicken in 24 fl oz of the wine, 2 thyme sprigs and 1 bay leaf overnight. Dry a few minutes before browning on the pan. 
  • Take your slab bacon and cut about 6 oz worth of lardon cubes. Place it in a large sausier pan or rondeau and let the fat render for about 6 minutes, then set aside.
  • Season the chicken pieces with salt and pepper and brown in the same pan using the lardon fat. Cook for a few minutes till all pieces are browned a bit, then add the lardons back in and cook in low heat for about 10 minutes.
  • Deglaze and flambe the chicken with the brandy, then cover the pieces in the tomato paste. Add the garlic, herbs, wine and stock to the pan and simmer. Once it’s simmering, cover partially with the lid and let it simmer for over an hour, or until the thighs are almost fall off the bone tender.
  • 4 minutes prior to the chicken being done, add the mushrooms and continute simmering.
  • Remove the chicken, lardons and mushrooms and reserve. Strain the stewing liquid till all solids are removed and place into a large/medium sized sauce pot. mix in the beurre manie until the sauce it thick enough to coat the back of the spoon, or is a bit thicker than heavy cream. Season with salt and pepper. 
  • Place chicken in a casserole pan and cover with sauce and then top with minced parsley. Serve with angel hair pasta and a crusty french bread. 


tbh real talk this recipe is so fancy that if you serve it to the person u like u’ll get laid literally that night no joke

maybe even within the hour

like how do u think aph France gets so many babes it’s probs because he makes them this masterpiece like every night foreal

alright kids, hope you enjoyed this boozetastic french recipe



As if I don’t reblog enough old stuff lately sorry lmao

I’ve been tagged to post 5 favorite art pieces of mine, well, without any doubt I went to dig through 2014-2015 folders because I always tend to love my old stuff more. ;^; Repeating “I was so much better then” like a broken record. But dang, aren’t these good????

Don’t really like tagging people, i.e. forcing them to do things, please feel free to take part if you only find it funny. ;3; @chillinoodles @robotrigger @arcevaus @7ice @java-finch and ofc anyone else if you want! o/


ok, let’s see this absurdly obvious body language in The Maze Runner.

Many of us ship Newt and Thomas. I personally shipped Alby and Newt before watching the movie, but then I saw Thomas BG and Dylan O’s performance and it was…mbrgjwhbcghjerthj

You know what I mean. But then I was rewatching the movie today and I noticed this detail.

After Alby introduces Newt to Thomas, Newt walks away without looking back. He goes to get Chuck under Alby’s orders, and when Alby and Thomas walk away, Thomas keeps watching behind him at Newt over and over. Three times to be exact.

I would call it love at first sight. Thomas was amazed by Newt from the beginning. You know, Newt is very sure of himself, he follows Alby’s orders without doubts, but he’s pretty sure of himseld. He talks without a shake and is very commanding in front of Thomas, as in front of everyone.

I didn’t think there was to much evidence of Newtmas (Newt/Thomas), I just followed the general feeling that they left me after watching the movie, and also Dylan and Thomas BG make a very good couple… aesthetically xDDDD I don’t know if it’s the right word, I’m latinamerican, but they look absurdly good together. I’ve actually read already 2 fanfics until now, being “Something to talk about” my favorite so far. But this piece of scene is pretty telling.

So I ship them. At least in the movie. I don’t know in the book. Alby and Newt will be always in my heart.

Actually I ship Alby/Thomas/Newt in the movie. If you see in this scene, first Thomas is looking over his shoulder at Newt and Alby grabs his arm so he follows him, realizing Thomas’ attention is elsewhere, in Newt. Then Thomas looks forward for like 3 seconds and looks over his shoulder at Newt again, like he can’t believe what he just saw, so he must check it again to be sure. Alby is talking to him, but Thomas isn’t listening, then Thomas looks forward, frowning. Then Alby realizes (4th gif) and looks over his shoulder to look at Newt, like if he wants to check what’s keeping Thomas’ attention so emphatically.

Then in the 6th gif Alby does this pretty tellling move. He grabs Thomas’ shoulder, and we can see that the grabbing includes pushing. Alby is jealous, and I suspect this hasn’t happened only once, I suspect that Newt pretty much attracts other’s attention very often. After all, if I remember well, there were 41 boys trapped there. According to statistics, 4 or more boys could have been gay. My guess is that they are Alby, Newt and 2 more, anonymous ones I suppose. I think Thomas is bisexual. At least in the movie. I doubt that the writer thought about the characters as being out of the heteronormative spectrum.

Alby is jealous. Thomas showed without thinking of it twice that he was keeping his attention on this kid, in Newt, and Alby realized of that. I know that may be the filmmakers wanted to point at the construction they were making in the background of this scene, but I don’t think this Thomas was too inrerested in it. For me, it looked like he was checking Newt. Also, may be Alby thought Thomas was interested in the construction when he said “You’ll see”, but I’m reading this scene in other ways.

A Few Love Lessons Brought by Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell:

1. Being in love is being too familiar with details.

~That morning, in English, Park noticed that Eleanor’s hair came to a soft red point on the back of her neck.

That afternoon, in history, Eleanor noticed that Park chewed on his pencil when he was thinking.~

Being able to ride within the POVs of both of these lovers, I’ve discovered more about the “how” part of falling romantically in love. If the heart’s so sincere in carrying that emotion, a person just can’t help to study every characteristic and feature and every ambiguous detail affixed to the love interest. It was as if a guy wanted to complete this certain puzzle so much that he solved it a countless times, even if at first it’s like it didn’t want to be solved. But he tried so much that he accomplished it, finally. He was so in love with it that he memorized every complex puzzle piece.

2. Love can intensify if mixed with music.

~Best of all, she had Park’s songs in her head– and in her chest, somehow.~

One of my favorite things about the book is the clear attachment of music– another connection the two head-over-heels-in-love misfits shared, without doubt. I felt that can’t-be-stopped giddiness every time I read these lines narrating on how they admired and awed for different songs in various eras and genres. I admit, I am not familiar with most of the songs mentioned (therefore a research must be accomplished soon), but just knowing the fact that every beat they heard in a three-minute rock song made their bus ride chinwags a whole lot better, I felt the strong musical bond, as well.

3. Love brings out the idea of emotional incompleteness. 

~“I don’t even think I even breathe when we’re not together. Which means, when I see you on Monday morning, it’s been like sixty hours since I’ve taken a breath.”~

A funny part about this paramount feeling is that you just feel anxious and lacking whenever the person you’re in love with is heaps of miles away from you. And then sometimes you realize that you had never really experienced this kind of incompleteness when you still hadn’t met the person, and now that this person’s a part of your world, everything just gets really strange. Sometimes you feel as if you’re searching for something you’ve been desperately needing, even if the first place, in the first parts of your living, you never even yearned.

4. We become a factory of beautiful words and metaphors when we are in love.

~Holding Eleanor’s hand was like holding a butterfly. Or a heartbeat. Like holding something complete, and completely alive.~

Playful indeed is love, that even a person so cold and reserved and quiet and seemingly socially dull can have the ability to produce so much profound musings. Park’s thoughts were somewhat tear-jerkers for me– I mean, man, how amazing it is when you dive inside the in-love-guy’s mind, and you discover so much beauty in his words? Boys who get to create metaphors are just so gush-worthy.

5. Love can be so awkward, and it’s perfectly okay.

~“Hi,” Eleanor said.

“Hi,” he breathed.

She giggled.

“What?” he said.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Hi.”~

The awkwardness inclined with love is just so precious because it means that love is not a pretentious thing. Being awkward is just being you, being sincere with yourself, and I think, there will always be a person who can fit with the kind of awkwardness you have. I’ve loved so many ill at ease moments in the novel– the way they got so uneasy and embarrassed with each other just brought so much flowing figurative hearts all over the place. The book was so true, it was in the real world-zone. I felt like I belonged to the book, for I have the similar bag of awkwardness myself.

6. Crazy, crazier, craziest– popular levels of love.

~When she saw Park standing at the bus stop on Monday morning, she started giggling. Seriously, giggling like a cartoon character… When their cheeks get all red.~

We all got to admit this one, alright– everything is just so “I can’t help it,”. It feels so human, period.

7. Love is about saying the right words in the right time. (if possible, perfect time.)

~He regretted saying it. Not because it wasn’t true. He loved her. Of course he did. There was nothing else to explain… everything Park felt. But he hadn’t meant to tell her like that. So soon. And over the phone.~

For me, saying those three words are not just perfect for candlelight dinners or under the moonlight and shooting stars rooftop dates– it will be perfect according to our own perception of perfect. In a lighter sense, we need not to be reckless with the words with release; we have to think thoroughly first and be prepared for the possible grand turn of events right after those three words get to escape out of the mouth.


I was (and still am) absolutely in love with this book and it’s probably so much more obvious now. How about you, guys? Any insights and reactions? I’d love to hear from you.


Best Of 2015:

Artist of the Year: 

Let us mull over this idea of Brandon Flowers being the Artist of the Year for 2015 shall we….

For some, this may seem crazy, for others, well deserved and that’s totally understandable. Brandon Flowers seems to bring about some polarizing opinions, there are those who love the guy (and really love him) and those who absolutely view him (and or The Killers) as awful. Over the years I’m sure there’s become some sort of middle ground, and of course there’s those who simply don’t give a shit either way. Then there’s those who, in light of this promising solo venture, view him as a perfectly fine Pop star, one who skirts the line between massive world wide success and one who embodies a somewhat grounded-in-their-record-collection type who longed to be like their heroes (Moz, Bowie, Gahan); and that is where I stand.

Brandon Flowers, lead singer of the successful pop group The Killers, embarked on a second solo outing this year and made his first huge step at becoming a (bigger) Pop Star who attracts (even more) attention from both sides of the aisle. Less of a vanity project and more of a “need to keep creating” moment, Flowers hit on something new with this sophomore solo jaunt. By embracing capital P pop music, Flowers in a way became more of an outsider artist, which is of course contradictory, but nonetheless true. At a time when “going pop” is all the rage within “indie” circles, Flowers decided to not only embrace this ideal, but he manged to do it better than everyone else around him. But how, and why? The answer is simple, it’s because…. 

……..Brandon Flowers is a very smart man. A calculated man. A man armed with an astute musical acumen. A true student of pop music history, who has gone to great lengths to show it over his very successful career.

All of the truly great rock/pop frontmen possessed these traits. Why was Morrissey such an enigmatic and powerful figure, because he knew his way around the Pop music history books. Ian Curtis, Morrissey, Julian Casablancas, Flowers etc; they were all devout fans growing up. They weren’t just fans of pop music, they showed extreme devotion to those who came before them. Where would Casablancas be without Lou Reed, or where would Brandon Flowers be without Morrissey (and where would any of them be without Bowie!). These individuals all studied those who preempted them, and again, they weren’t just fans, they were obsessives. 

Brandon Flowers, from the get go, was destined for stardom. The Las Vegas native who put in work by obsessing over albums and the pop stars of yore wanted it. And yes, success came rather quickly to The Killers, compared to other groups, but the groundwork had long been laid by an eager Flowers. But this isn’t a career retrospective, this piece is about what took place within the last year or so, which in many ways, was the birth of a new artist…..

‘The Desired Effect’ is the second LP to bear the Brandon Flowers name and can almost be seen as a debut of sorts or at the very least, a new incarnation of the singer’s ever evolving persona. In 2015, there’s no denying that Flowers is a famous “rock star”, but this time around something feels different. With The Desired Effect’ Flowers has taken even further strides in becoming a Pop auteur, but he did so by embracing the idea that certain strains of pop music could be seen as new and invigorating. Simply put, this is his Bryan Ferry coming out party…..

Flowers has always been a bit of a chameleon re-inventor (something he no doubt learned, in a far less extreme way, from Bowie), one who appropriates a new look every album cycle. From the eyeliner of ‘Hot Fuss’ to the leather jacket clad bad boy of ‘Battle Born’, Flowers has always had keen sense of his image. In the lead up to his new album, that already sharp sense of style transitioned into a debonair Bryan Ferry/Chris Issak/Robert Palmer/Luke Perry type phase, both stylistically and musically. Throughout his career he’s managed to take on some of the corniest schtick the 80’s had to offer and completely owned it, without a single trace of irony (which is the key). 

Never one too shy away from the corniest of corny shit, Flowers pretty much pulls it off with aplomb and never makes you doubt his sincerity. Everything he does is fully realized, from the music to the overall aesthetic. The man is without a doubt my favorite Pop Star, and he surely designed it that way. Taking bits and pieces of every male icon I’ve ever desired or longed to be and (custom) stitched them together, creating a finely tuned adult idol….

‘The Desired Effect’ has been a success, both artistically and commercially. It broadened Flowers musical range by reinterpreting past forms of Pop and presenting them as fresh. Sure, there’s still some of that Springsteen Americana that The Killers adopted post-’Hot Fuss’, but there’s also some trickier pure pop elements in play. Flowers, the aforementioned studied and detailed Pop auteur, created an album that ranges widely from tropicali new wave to Dire Straits 80’s rock, but with all bravado Flowers can muster (which is a ton). 

Flowers’ conscious decision to collaborate with Ariel Rechtshaid on ‘The Desired Effect’ proved to be a wise one. The former indie rocker turned go-to producer was the perfect “co pilot” for Flowers’ big tent desires. The singer has openly stated how Rechtshaid pushed him out of his comfort zone during the making of the album and credits the producer for his contributions to the overall sound and focus (my favorite story regarding Rechtshaid and the recording process being, in Flowers words: “I’m telling you it was tough….I wanted to fire him. Four times. He knows. I remember my wife was in the kitchen; I got a song from him on my phone. We played it and I said: ‘I can’t fire, him can I?’ She said, ‘No, you can’t. That’s too good.’”). 

While the album as a whole is great, it’s the singles that really catapult Flowers into the higher reaches of the Pop stratosphere…..

……..“Can’t Deny My Love”“Still Want You”“Lonely Town”, and “I Can Change” are massively fun (and intricate) songs and obvious surefire singles. These felt like tailor made singles from yesteryear, from the actual music on down to the aesthetically themed album covers (not to mention that their place within the album is a damn good job of sequencing). 

Honestly, I had little intention of listening to another solo Flowers album; until I laid eyes upon the early promos and the album artwork (see above). My interest was suddenly sparked, but that early interest wouldn’t have meant shit if the songs weren’t good, so thankfully, those early singles more than exceeded my expectations. 

From the very beginning (with The Killers) Flowers was creating music that seemed BIG. It was the type of earnest and anthemic music that influential artists like Depeche Mode or U2 were making in their heyday and the kind that attracted both casual and serious music fans alike. And that’s important, because the modern world needs great Pop songs and capable Pop Stars creating them. Rarely are things both popular AND good, especially nowadays, yet Flowers manages to cover both (maybe that’s reason enough right there for him to be the artist of the year). 

Another reason why I’ve chosen Flowers as my Artist of the Year is that he’s something of an anomaly in the modern Pop world (besides the whole being both popular and good thing). Flowers is a walking strutting contradiction in many ways. A practicing Mormon who’s own religion stands against the idea of same sex marriage, yet Flowers is the dandiest motherfucker there is. He’s the aesthetically ideal gay icon in pose and song, yet is a married family man who is seen as a rare “conservative” in the Pop world. This all leads to Flowers being one interesting subject and one who’s private life I find honestly refreshing.

While I, a “serious music fan”, may be heaping praise upon Brandon Flowers, there’s plenty of “serious music publications” who continue to deny their love, or at least respect, for the artist.

It’s downright laughable that the “indie” sites have continued to shun Flowers, while continuing this ridiculous courting of acts like Bieber, Swift, Beyonce, and whatever other click bait artists they can wrangle. Look, I completely understand the Poptimist case and I’m fully capable of being on board with crossover appeal, but holy shit, it’s starting to border on parody now. It’s basically the equivalent of an “indie zine” in the 80’s dedicating the same amount of ink to The Smiths, Wham!, R.E.M., Debbie Gibson, Mission of Burma, and Menudo…..but whatever, I get it, it’s something to do with mono-culture, Poptimism, and get off my lawn blah blah. Just give the guy his due.

Holy shit, let’s wrap this up shall we. Brandon Flowers is my Artist of the Year because he pulled off a rare feat, he took an already successful career and manged to make an artistic statement while perhaps becoming even more popular(?). He manged to become the updated version of an 80′s Bowie / Ferry / Knopfler / Estefan / Springsteen hybrid. He manged to outwit and outdo the Levine’s and Twin Shadows of the modern world and did so without a trace of irony. You can agree, or you can disagree, I’m just glad we made it to the end. 

I was going to write a letter for you, but I wouldn’t know where to send it. Your heart in a different home each night. I needed to write something for you, but I had doubts about what you wanted. Your soul stretched with their fingertips. As you’re pulled apart, the carpet burns are a reminder of how I could do the same. That’s how I’m seen in your eyes, right? If I could rip pieces of my favorite color and placed them near you; I bet your heart could beat again. You can’t see yourself without a need for a bath. Stained and dirty; thoughts of not being worth my time. Life started with dirt. Without a foundation, we are the bones of birds; hollow and cracking with every interaction that we didn’t plan to have today. Do you think some people were meant to show affection and then disappear? Failed relationships, one after the other, that’s how you found my poetry. I know, I’m just another poet. I’m just like him and you’re just like her. I know, I’m another reminder of sad things to come, but… hey. If I showed you the forgotten shades of clear water in your thoughts, could you feel clean again? How about your smile? I didn’t tell you this, but the sad girl is your pull. Can people with sadness in their laughter and love as a push become magnetized? I’ve mentioned that we are the same. Our regrets keep us awake at night. Our destructive nature makes the mornings exhausting. Our love for love smells like roses, but how we are the thorns and not the petals. We’re rolling around the bed and shuffling the blanket in search for them, but can’t you see? The fire in their lighters still sparks your charm. The water in their tears still flows into my eyes. The wind near their feet as they walked away, keeps us moving. The down to earth poetry that we write, keeps this natural. Whatever this is–
—  Please, stay for awhile. // k.c.
Of Coffee, Music, and Dates (CS Modern AU) One-shot.

Follower Appreciation Prompt: “ur just a random stranger and i’ve been ranting to you for like 20 minutes about how much i hate this one band but now several groups of people came up to you asking for pics and autographs, and oh shit it turns out you’re in the band i’ve been going on about” au 

Requested by @timeless-love-story. I hope you enjoy this! Please let me know what you think!

Huge thanks to @lenfaz for looking this over. 

Read at FFN   AO3

Rating: F for fluff

Word Count: ~ 1000

Of Coffee, Music, and Dates

“Is this seat taken, lass?” A heavily accented voice murmured in front of her.

Emma rolled her eyes. She really didn’t have time to deal with some guy trying to flirt with her, especially not when she had a huge British Lit final that she needed to study for. Glancing up from her copy of The Heart of Darkness, her eyes widened as she took in the owner of the voice.

His hair was dark and had that artfully disheveled look to it. A chiseled jaw line led to the most beautiful blue eyes that she’d ever seen. He was dressed simply in a pair of ripped jeans, black henley, and black chucks. A black leather motorcycle jacket completed the look, as did the eyebrow arched in her direction. She bit her lip, he was easily the hottest guy she’d ever seen.

Keep reading

Request -- Hi there! I think my favorite pieces you've done are the ones where the angel is the reader's soulmate, so, I was wondering, if it's not too much trouble, if maybe you'd do one where the reader is the angel, and her soulmate is either sam or dean? I just think it would be an interesting perspective change! Thank you xx

(For raveansclaw. Hope you like it! xx)

Castiel’s Soul Mate One Shot

Gadreel’s Soul Mate One Shot

Anxiousness was, without a doubt, one of the most prominent characteristics of the vessel that you had taken when you came down to Earth. You had a strange feeling in your stomach that you were sure mortals called “butterflies” and your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, no matter how much you willed them to stop doing so. It hadn’t been like this when Castiel had taken you to this worn motel, for you had been more irritated about how small and imprisoning the automobile that you hadn’t any idea of how he had attained was. With a laugh, he had told you that you would get used to bring cramped in tiny spaces such as these, but you weren’t quite sure that you believed him on that yet.

“Remember, Sam and Dean are my friends,” Castiel told you as you instinctively paced in front of the door that led to their room. “They are great hunters, and great men.”

“I trust your judgement, Castiel,” You smiled at him in reassurance, but had been more focused on how your feet made the wood squeak beneath you than on what your friend had been saying. “…Are you sure that they’ll be accepting of me?”

His mouth quirked up at the question that couldn’t help but tumble out of your mouth because of your nervous state.

“Of course,” he assured you, reaching out for you but then pulling his hand back; you weren’t quite used to contact yet. “They despise many angels, but you will not be one of them.”

You shook your head, throwing up your hands.

“That did not make me feel any better.”

“We do not have to do this today—”

“No, no,” you interrupted him. “Since you have been talking so highly of them, my intention is to meet them now. Let’s go inside.”

Cas stopped you from teleporting into the Winchester’s room by putting a firm hand on your shoulder.

“Why are you stopping me?” you questioned, cocking your head in confusion.

“Humans do not like it when you unexpectedly, as they say, "pop” into their rooms,“ he explained, and you nodded your head in understanding. "Instead, you have to knock.”

He did just that, rapping his knuckles on the wooden door a couple of times, and the both of you waited for a few moments; you tried to hold back your irritation at how slow it was taking for someone to answer.

Come in!” A deep voice called out from inside, and Castiel opened the door at those words.

You scanned all of the details of the room in less than a second, and scrunched your nose a little at it. It was…interesting, to say the least, with the peeling wallpaper and odd scent that wafted through the air. Cas had told you that it might not be that pleasant, but it was just somewhere to stay for a temporary time and that the brothers were always thankful for a room to sleep in. But there was also something else that was settled in the air—an ambience that almost felt what you could only describe as holy. Castiel didn’t seem to feel it, so you shifted on your feet nervously as the feeling buzzed around you.

A man with shining green eyes suddenly walked out from behind the divider that separated the beds and the small kitchen, smiling when he saw you. His sweet leather and cognac musk hit you as he did, and it overpowered the musty smell of the room, which you were thankful for. Your vessel obviously had a weak spot for men like him, for your heart started to beat faster with a new kind of nervousness; you didn’t give into his charm, though, and was gracious towards the fact that you could at least control that.

“You must be Y/N!” he exclaimed, holding out his hand; you looked at it, bewildered for a moment, before remembering that it was a sign of greeting. You put your one in his, and shook it. “Cas has told us a lot about you. He always got so excited when he talked about you.”

Castiel’s cheeks held a hint of red. “You really did not have to share that with her, Dean.”

“It is nice to know that I am a subject of interest,” you said, and your friend tossed you a grateful look as you changed the subject. “Where is Sam?”

Just then, the person that you were speaking of came out of the bathroom, not looking up because he was drying his hair with a towel. The divine atmosphere grew even stronger, and you became even more bewildered at why it did so.

“And I’m usually the late one,” Dean teased. “This is Y/N, by the way.”

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam responded with a chuckle, and didn’t look up right away when he addressed you. “Hey, Y/N.”

Him speaking your voice in such a sweet tone made your shiver, and you realized that you had taken two steps toward him; Castiel was gazing at you with a perplexed expression, but you ignored it because you couldn’t help but stare at the younger Winchester, forcing your feet not to walk any closer to him as you did. He finally hung the towel up after a few seconds that were agonizing to you, and when he finally looked up, the electric feeling grew to be almost unbearable. Your eyes went wide as they gazed into his autumn-colored orbs, and his did the same as his jaw dropped open.

Sam couldn’t believe what he was seeing, and that was abnormal considering his line of work. Brilliant wings were sprouting from your shoulder blades, pure white in color with a fine dusting of gold speckles along the edges of each feather. He studied them for several moments, and instead of being uncomfortable with the attention, you wanted nothing more than to be as close as possible to him. Apparently, he was feeling the same way, and he crossed the length of the room and over to you. One of his hands came up to caress your cheek, and the other he placed on your waist; you felt relieved, now that he was right in front of you, and your head fell to his chest. It all seemed instinctive; you weren’t uneasy with his touch, and all of that felt so…natural.

“Can someone explain to me what just happened here?” Dean’s voice abruptly interrupted you and Sam’s embrace, and the two of you shared a confused look; you didn’t really know, either.

“…What did just happen?” you whispered, staring up into Sam’s eyes; the confusion in them was just bring overwhelmed with an emotion of affections.

"I—I can see your wings,” he answered slowly, intertwining both of his hands with his, another intuitive action. Your breath hitched in your throat at his answer, for that could only mean one thing.

Castiel caught on quickly, and his voice was utterly amazed. “Sam…you’re her—”

“You are my soul mate,” You finished his sentence, and a brilliant smile appeared on your face; his elated expression was a mirror image of yours, and both of your hearts felt completely full.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, his own lips forming into a smile. “We need to give them some time alone.”

The older Winchester didn’t protest, for he hadn’t seen Sam’s eyes as warm as they were right then in a long, long time. He grinned at his absolutely blissful face before following Castiel outside, happy to see his brother so full of joy.

“Soul mate,” Sam murmured, as if testing it out while brushing a lock of hair out of your face. “We haven’t learned this about angels yet.”

“Because it is so rare for an angel to meet the human that is truly meant for them,” The knowledge that you actually had was so awing to you that your eyes began to fill with tears. “My Father keeps every single bond that he makes a secret, but if we do meet our mate, the connection is just entirely irrepressible. Some say that this bond is stronger than one with Death itself.”

“I hope that we don’t have to test that theory anytime soon,” he told you, and you couldn’t help but let out a light laugh. “So, will it always be this way? Always needing to be near each other?”

You sighed, a hint of sadness in the breath. “A mortal’s feelings can changed or be manipulated in so many different ways, so it might not always bed this way.” A tear finally fell from one of your eyes, and your lower lip trembled. “But if that happens…I-I’ll have to cope with the pain of losing my soul mate for the rest of my existence.”

Sam’s eyes somehow became even softer than they had been at your statement, and he wiped away the flood of tears rushing down your cheeks with his tombs, making you shiver at the contact. He then wrapped his arms around you, and you felt completely at peace as he pressed his lips to your temple, making a trail of kisses down your cheek, where there had previously been streaks of salt water, down to the corner of your mouth. He looked into your eyes after taking a glance at your mouth, and you understood instantly that he was asking for your consent. You nodded with a smile, and felt completely whole when he touched his mouth to yours, the kiss full of longing and hope underneath the blatant presence of love.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he vowed breathlessly, giving you another gentle and prolonged kiss that made you understand what mortals meant when they said a certain person was their own Heaven before speaking again. “I promise you.”

Spotlighting the Writers of Elementary Season 1

So, I might be writing a post about why I think Steven Moffat often gets singled out for criticism, and draws such controversy.  A lot of that is that, well, Moffat is a bit of an egotist who puts himself out there - he has a cult of personality and a following and a very noticeable presence.

But what about some writers who don’t have that kind of presence?  Writers who just do their job without standing out or getting a lot of fandom attention?  Writers who disappear into a writing team?  This seemed like a fun comparison between BBC Sherlock and Elementary, since BBC Sherlock’s three-episode season format means that each writer stands out a lot, while Elementary’s standard US season format means that individual writers are invisible.  

In honor of such writers, I decided to look up the writer for every single episode of Elementary season 1, to see if I could find common threads in any given writer’s episodes - try to suss out an identity to each of the very talented writers who put together the best show I have watched lately.  

Along with this, you’ll also get my opinions on which are the best episodes of the season!  

Warning for possible unmarked spoilers for the twists of individual episodes. 

So, let’s go through the writers, as well as the common co-writing teams.  

General Observation:

One thing that intrigued me was that very few writers wrote more than one episode without a credited co-writer.  Head writer and series creator Robert Doherty solo-wrote three episodes; Corrine Brinkerhoff solo'ed twice, as did Peter Blake.  This means that, in trying to figure out what each writer brought to the show, I had to find common threads in episodes that each co-wrote, while more heavily weighting any observation made about the writer’s solo episode.  

I will make a few observations about specific teams of writers after going through each writer individually.  

Robert Doherty (“Pilot (solo),” “While You Were Sleeping (solo),” “M (solo),” “The Deductionist,” “Details,” “Risk Management,” “The Woman/Heroine”)

Doherty is the writer that I have the most trouble defining, oddly.  As the head writer, he generally writes the most important episodes - the pilot, the first post-pilot episode that established the show’s status quo (especially the replacement of Abreu with Bell), the mid-season turning point, an episode that defined many aspects of Sherlock’s characterization, and ¾ of the season’s four-part final arc.  As such, Doherty’s voice is the voice of the show.  He also gets less opportunities to write outright mysteries.  

His most annoying quirk is an over-reliance on Sherlock having scent-related superpowers.  "While You Were Sleeping" and “M” both have rather credibility-stretching uses of Sherlock’s sense of scent to move the plot forward.  

Craig Sweeny (“Rat Race (solo),” “The Leviathan,” “The Red Team,” “The Deductionist,” “The Woman/Heroine”)

Craig Sweeny had a hand in almost as many episodes as Doherty, including co-writing both “The Deductionist” and the season finale with Doherty.  I would say that Sweeny is tied for my favorite writer on the team.  His episodes tend to hit just the right tone for me - aside from “The Deductionist,” the episodes credited to Sweeny are all favorites of mine.  It’s not even that “The Deductionist” is bad, I just don’t like it much through some quirk of my own tastes.  

The episodes I like by Sweeny all hit just the right level of mystery complexity, witty dialogue, and fascinating scenarios.  Sweeny, to me, is the writer who most consistently presents fascinating puzzles for Sherlock to unravel - his scenarios tend to be memorable and satisfying, with intriguing twists in the solution.  He also produces some very memorable villains - “Rat Race” and “The Red Team” both have pretty interesting murderers, who share the trait of being very patient and methodical; it’s no wonder he was one of the two co-writers who brilliantly brought Moriarty to life.  

Sweeny’s big thing seems to be having Sherlock Holmes turn his obnoxiousness toward powerful people.  "Rat Race" and “The Leviathan” both have Sherlock being quite obnoxious toward rich people, “The Red Team” has him standing up to shadowy government agents, “The Deductionist” shows how somebody of roughly equal power (possibly greater fame) to Sherlock abused his trust and hurt him (and his resulting beef with her).  (I haven’t finished season 2, but Sweeny also solo-wrote “We Are Everyone” - meaning that Sweeny has written two episodes in which Sherlock is interrogated by government agents - which is what helped me notice this theme).  Certainly, this is a major part of the show, but I’d estimate that Sweeny does it most consistently.  

Corrine Brinkerhoff (“Flight Risk (solo),” “The Leviathan,” “A Giant Gun, Filled with Drugs,” “A Landmark Story”)

Brinkerhoff is the one tied with Sweeny for my favorite season 1 writer.  Like Sweeny, Brinkerhoff tends to provide a sense of adventure and fun, with intriguing mysteries and setups.  She does have a slight running tendency toward over-complication; “Flight Risk” and “The Leviathan” both have a lot of twists as Sherock and Joan eliminate suspects, and her suspects tend to be very bland individuals.  

Brinkerhoff’s favored focus appears to be on clever cover-ups.  Her solo episode, “Flight Risk” features a case of sabotage used to obscure a murder, followed by a murder made to look like the victim ran away; “A Landmark Story” is centered upon an assassin who makes his murders look like accidents.  Sweeny shares this as well, between “Rat Race” and “The Red Team,” so perhaps that adds the quality of puzzle and intrigue that I like in both their styles.  

Liz Friedman (“Lesser Evils (solo),” “Dirty Laundry,” “A Giant Gun, Filled with Drugs,” “Dead Man’s Switch,” “Risk Management”)

Friedman also has a lot of solid notches on her belt in terms of episode quality (one of which is shared with Brinkerhoff and  three of them shared with Silber, but still).  Her solo episode, “Lesser Evils,” is quite brilliant.  A quick look at Wiki shows she’d worked on Xena and House, which is an amusing combination in the context of Elementary.  

Friedman wrote/co-wrote two episodes revolving around a twist that one character or group of characters is secretly an East European/former Soviet Bloc immigrant (one from Ukraine, one from Russia), which I imagine indicates either heritage from the area or a great fascination.  

Christopher Silber (“One Way to Get Off (solo),” “Dirty Laundry,” “A Giant Gun, Filled with Drugs,” “Dead Man’s Switch”)

Silber jumped out to me as the go-to “dark” writer.  However, I had trouble quantifying what was “dark” about his episodes - which led to me figuring out his big running quirk.

Silber clearly likes episodes with a ticking clock and innocent people in real-time danger.  "One Way to Get Off" has a serial killer on the loose, ready to strike at any moment; “Dirty Laundry” has a confused teenager caught up in the crime of the episode and traumatized by it; “A Giant Gun, Filled with Drugs” has a tense ticking clock hostage scenario; “Dead Man’s Switch” revolves around the titular negotiation technique, and as such comes with a race to find the blackmailer’s assistant.  As such, Silber’s episodes tend to be dark and humorless, because he writes situations with very little room for humor or wit.  

Peter Blake (“Child Predator (solo),” “You Do It to Yourself (solo)”)

An anomaly - one of the “minor” writers who got to write two solo episodes.  Peter Blake is probably my least favorite of the writers listed here - both of his episodes are ones I never feel a desire to re-watch.  Like Silber, his episodes are very dour and very dark.

Both of these episodes portray long-term abuse, and both of them revolve around abuse victims being framed by their abusers (who appear to be the victims themselves).  Arguably, he’s a one-trick pony, but both episodes do something different enough with that general concept.  I certainly respect that both episodes are inventive and complex, I just find the subject material particularly uncomfortable (in the right ways, at least).  

Jeffrey Paul King (“The Long Fuse (solo),” “"The Red Team,” “Details”)

King writes decent enough episodes.  His solo episode, “The Long Fuse,” is not one of my favorites, but it’s an interesting enough mystery.  "The Red Team" is rather excellent, but it’s hard to not give more credit to Craig Sweeny, who more consistently worked on episodes I liked just as much as “The Red Team.”  

King is the only writer who wrote multiple episodes for whom I could not find a noticeable common thread.  

Jason Tracey (“Details,” “Snow Angel (solo)”)

When I found out that Tracey wrote Snow Angels without a co-writer, I desperately hoped that he had gotten more work in season 2 - because “Snow Angels” is, without any doubt, my favorite single episode of season 1.  I think it’s a fantastic mystery with great set pieces, great dialogue, brilliant characterization and development, and in general a great showpiece for everything that makes Elementary great.  I was pleased to see he got to write four season 2 episodes without a co-writer for any of them; clearly, the show’s producers held the same high opinion of his work, and I hope he stayed just as good.  

The one common thread I found between Tracey’s two season 1 episodes was a seeming enthusiasm for Marcus Bell - “Details” being Bell’s focus episode, and “Snow Angels” featuring probably Bell’s most memorable moment of deductive reasoning.  My girlfriend commented that his season 2 episodes show a distinct interest in writing about the mob; I have not seen the relevant episodes to comment.  

Mark Goffman (“Possibility Two (solo)”)

Goffman wrote just one episode, but it’s a memorable one.  "Possibility Two" is an episode with a bit of a low-level science fiction bent (the plot hinges upon two huge innovations in genetics, and one element that may be possible or may be theoretically possible, I don’t know enough to be sure).  

The weakness of this episode is a distressingly cavalier attitude toward two of its featured criminals - a blackmailer is played for laughs (contrast Friedman and Silber’s very dark, terrifying blackmail scenario with the comedic blackmail-as-alibi scenario in this episode), and a murderer with serious entitlement issues is played as almost funny - that funniness may have been meant to make the scene more horrific without bludgeoning the viewer with the wrongness of his actions, but it was nonetheless a bit odd.  The upshot of this is that Goffman presents not one but two memorable criminals in just one episode.  

“Possibility Two,” and Goffman as a result, is majorly redeemed by having the hysterical dry cleaners subplot and a glorious ending scene.  Basically, this episode’s strengths outweigh its weaknesses, in my estimation, and as such I would evaluate Goffman as a good writer, but I’d like to see more of his work before judging as much.  

Brian Rodenbeck (“Deja Vu All Over Again (solo)”) 

Rodenbeck got a major task - Joan’s first solo case - and he did OK.  

The mystery of this one episode is very, very good - I’d argue that it hinges on Sherlock being a bit of an idiot and not looking through his Google search very attentively, but I can forgive that.  Where Rodenbeck fails, though, is dialogue - Joan’s big case explanation at the end falls particularly flat, just feeling long and lifeless.  That might be that Lucy Liu was settling into doing that part of the episode, but the dialogue she had to work with was very plodding.  

And now, the teams…

Robert Doherty and Craig Sweeny (“The Deductionist,” “Woman/Heroine”)

This is clearly the A+ writing team.  They do big events and major character development, and the episodes they write together are solid on all fronts.  

Liz Friedman and Christopher Silber (“Dirty Laundry,” “A Giant Gun, Filled with Drugs (with Corrine Brinkerhoff)”  "Dead Man’s Switch") 

Y'know what I said about Silber doing a lot with ticking clocks?  I’d say that while his solo episode featured such a thing, Friedman’s collaboration seems to make the device work better and to provide the best tension, because I feel like “One Way to Get Off” does not really milk the tension of the killer on the loose as well as “A Giant Gun, Filled with Drugs” and “Dead Man’s Switch” milk the tension of a kidnapping and blackmail, respectively.  

“A Giant Gun, Filled with Drugs” and “Dead Man’s Switch” also both feature strong and noticeable allusions to Doyle canon (“Giant Gun” having Sherlock outright summarize a story, and “Dead Man’s Switch” beginning with a straight adaptation and then quickly going to hell due to how modern technology changes the circumstances).  

I really have to take them to task for “Dead Man’s Switch,” which features numerous tasteless fat jokes and atrocious treatment of the rape victims involved in the story (or rather, not involved - the rape victims are reduced to props who have zero role in the story).  

They did do a great job with the characterization in “Dirty Laundry,” the best work done by just the pair of them.  The poor teen girl caught up in the whole situation was a brilliantly written character, and the episode had a human touch that the show doesn’t have often enough (I’d say the show as a whole has a tendency to feel a bit emotionally detached from the crimes being committed).  Odd that “Dirty Laundry” and “Dead Man’s Switch” feel like they were written by entirely different writers - if I had to guess, I’d say Friedman’s fingerprints are all over “Dirty Laundry,” and Silber’s over “Dead Man’s Switch,” so maybe one wrote more of each episode; however, that’s pretty baseless speculation due to how closely they collaborate.

[LATE EDIT: Not as baseless as I thought.  The pair are given equal credit for “Dirty Laundry,” but “Dead Man’s Switch” is credited as Silber’s story with the pair collaborating for the teleplay.]

“A Giant Gun, Filled with Drugs” is one of the gems of the season.  Working with a third writer, in this case the very talented Corrine Brinkerhoff, clearly paid off.  

In Conclusion

I’d say Craig Sweeny, Corrine Brinkerhoff, Liz Friedman, and Jason Tracey all come across to me as very strong writers.  Mark Goffman I’d like to see more from.  Robert Doherty’s work seems constrained by its arc-critical nature.  Christopher Silber seems to me to be the weakest of the more prolific writers, but as he worked closely with Liz Friedman and contributed to two of the great episodes she wrote, I find it hard to dismiss him as the weak link among the five prolific (IE wrote more than three episodes) writers.  Peter Blake writes well-conceived episodes that just don’t hold my interest, Rodenbeck seems weak with dialogue, and Jeffrey Paul King is a cipher.  

All in all, I found this an interesting exercise in identifying style with very, very little information.  Almost all of this is conjecture, due to the rather anonymous nature of the writers I am talking about.