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#not her fault by any means whatsoever of course nor am I blaming her it’s just

destielshippingnews · 1 year

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Edvard's Supernatural Guide: 2x07 The Usual Suspects

This analysis is short because I have very little to say about this episode. It is not a bad one, but neither does it especially interest me nor give me much to talk about. It does nothing to advance the overall plot of the series and is not connected to the mythos in any way. My main take-away is wondering what a filler episode of The X-Files is doing in the middle of my Supernatural. I still do not care for a police presence or trouble-with-the-law storylines in my supernatural dramas (Charmed was terrible for that), and I honestly considered skipping this one because it simply does not do much for me. That said, I am glad I chose to watch it because there are some positive aspects to it.

To give a brief summary of the plot, Dean and Sam are arrested in Baltimore after Dean is found with a murdered woman while investigating her husband’s murder. The ghost of a dead woman keeps appearing to people who are soon murdered. One of the policemen leading the case is determined to pin the murder on Dean, while the policewoman has her doubts. Eventually, the policewoman and Sam find out that the real killer is the policeman who was involved with drug and murdered people to cover his tracks. Sam and the policewoman manage to save Dean from becoming the policeman’s scapegoat at the last minute, and the truth finally lets Dean go free.

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One of the things I liked most about this episode was the fact that Dean and Sam were both shown as intelligent and competent, and managed to work together as a team to get themselves out of a predicament even though they were separated and had extremely limited means of communication. Furthermore, there was no snarking, bitching, or poisonous behaviour from Sam, and Dean’s jokes about Sam being the ‘red-headed woman’ did not seem like the abused partner in the brotherhood lashing out (although I am not quite sure what the relevance of Scully being a red-haired woman is, but it was probably an American writer’s attempt at a lame ginger joke. By which I mean the joke was lame AND ginger jokes are lame).

If this were the first and only episode of the show I ever watched, I could easily buy into the idea that Dean and Sam are a reasonably healthy, functioning duo who care about each other equally and have each other’s back. Sam’s sole motivation in finding the truth was to exonerate his brother, and in spite of the opportunities given to him, point-blank refused to even consider the notion of betraying Dean to the police. I actually liked Sam in this episode, and I have decided that 2x07!Sam is the only valid Sam.

Add to that the fact that Dean is not once demeaned, embarrassed, or misunderstood by the writer, and I am happy with this episode’s portrayal of the brothers. It gets no complaints from me whatsoever. Little things which some might have missed are the fact that Dean and Sam apparently discuss their alibis together before breaking into buildings, if Diana’s comment that ‘both their stories match’ is to be believed. They also have codes for communicating which take others a while to get if at all, such as Dean’s note to Sam referring to The Great Escape as a cue to escape.

Well done on those counts, Cathryn Humphries. It is just a shame I do not think this episode belongs in Supernatural.

Something worth remembering is that Dean’s rights have been taken away from him through no fault of his own. He was innocent of the killings he was blamed for in 1x06 Skin, being made into the fall-guy partially through a combination of Sam’s stupidity, Sam’s privileged upper-middle class university friend, and of course the shapeshifter. ...whom the police found dead whilst morphed into Dean. How could ‘Dean’ have faked his death when the police had his body? Anyway, because of this, Dean is cut off from participation in normal society due to being held accountable for other people’s actions (which Sam smirked at, remember), and he is at the policeman’s mercy. He is ‘just another scumbag’, another victim rendered powerless to save himself at the end. Being the sacrifice for other people is always Dean’s role, but at least this once he was saved before things got bad, and there was no Bad Ass snark from Sam after rescuing Dean, either. Well done, writer. Well done.

Some of the less good aspects of the episode were a few plot conveniences which stretched my suspension of disbelief. One of these is that Inspector Shady would give the same necklace to the woman he murdered as he did to Diana, especially since the necklace was a rare custom make. It was also strange that Dean did not hear the police enter the house and catch him with the woman’s dead body. The house was silent and Dean is trained to keep his wits about him, so this felt a bit too convenient, especially considering how well he managed to keep himself calm and collected at the sight of the body. He had clearly been in that situation before, so what was different that time?

Also worth pondering is why Claire (the death omen) did not appear to Dean in the van before Inspector Shady tried to kill him. She appeared to everybody Shady killed in advance to try warning them, but not to Dean. Is this a plot hole? I am not sure. Is there any way Claire could have known Dean would not die, and so did not need to warn him? Or was there iron in the van which she could not get through? That did not stop the Woman in White in 1x01 Pilot and it will not stop Tricia Helfer in 2x16 Roadkill, so why would it stop Claire?

That almost finishes things for this analysis (my shortest to date), but before then, there were two moments in this episode which set ADHD bells ringing in my head. The first was Dean making silly noises whilst sitting waiting for Sam to do his research on the computer...

and the second was his attempts at conversation with Inspector Shady in the van at the end. The way the writer intended it was likely Dean trying to be cocky or snarky in the face of death, perhaps to cover up his fear, but the way Jensen delivered his lines did not portray that. I got the nervousness and fear, but no sense of cockiness.

His comment ‘Another pee-break? You might want to get your prostate examined’ sounded like a little ADHD boy (or an autistic boy) who has so many thoughts in his head and is trying to have a conversation with somebody who just is not listening and does not care. The lack of ‘natural’ intonation in his voice while saying it also sounds like a person with ADHD or autism trying to make a joke and failing spectacularly.

As for the confession tape, it was better than any profile I have ever seen on Tinder, Grindr, Gaydar, or Planet Romeo. To be honest, that is a low bar, but praise where praise is due.

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One final note before I finish: many have noted that Dean is frequently put in situations usually (or ‘traditionally’) reserved for female characters, i.e. helplessness, disarmed, and in need of being saved. Most of this is due to the fact that the show’s two leads are both male and one of them needs to be in danger sometimes for dramatic purposes, but it is Dean more frequently than Sam, e.g. being a sacrificial offering in 1x11 Scarecrow, being Max’s hostage in 1x14 Nightmare, being ‘bait’ for the vampires in 1x20 Dead Man’s Blood etc. Whilst I am sure more than one person has written several thousand words on ‘deconstructing concepts of masculinity’ or something else which talks about men as if we are animals to be observed in a zoo, I do not think it is much deeper than this: Sam has to be shown to be The HeroTM because he is The Protagonist, and the corollary is that Dean has to be the damsel.

Paula R. Stiles commented on this in her analysis of this same episode, and I quote:

We see again here the show’s tendency to place the macho, hypermasculine male lead in a role normally reserved for a female lead

The reason I raised this is because ‘hypermasculinity’ does not mean what some people seem to think it means, i.e. masculine. Hypermasculinity is an actual term used in sociology and psychology to refer to a certain set of traits in a certain kind of man. Think, for example, of gangsters. The Encyclopaedia Britannica gives the following definition:

hypermasculinity, sociological term denoting exaggerated forms of masculinity, virility, and physicality. Scholars have suggested that there are three distinct characteristics associated with the hypermasculine personality: (1) the view of violence as manly, (2) the perception of danger as exciting and sensational, and (3) callous behavior toward women and a regard toward emotional displays as feminine.

None of those criteria applies to Dean. Dean is not ‘hypermasculine’: he is adept at enacting violence, but he does not view it as ‘manly’; he does not find danger exciting, it is simply a necessary part of his life (except during his self-destructive episodes); he is not ‘callous’ towards women, and he does show emotions other than ‘anger’. ‘Hypermasculine’ is a bad descriptor of Dean: he is masculine. Using words which mean things to refer to things they do not mean. Hypermasculine is gangsters and thugs, it’s not a man acting like a masculine man. They are very different things and I wish people would stop conflating the two.

(For further discussion of Dean and masculinity, you can read my essay entitled Deancrits, don't @ me

Thus concludeth my analyis of 2x07 The Usual Suspects.

One final final thing:

#edvard's supernatural guide #spn meta #meta analysis #spn 2x07 #2x07 the usual suspects #s02e07 #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #adhd!dean #Youtube

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rpd-rookie · 4 years

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Hi! I saw that you're requests are open so i decided to write mine lol. How about the reader being jealous of Ada Wong because she thinks Leon still has feelings for her? And then Leon confesses to the reader and reassures her he only sees Ada as a friend(at best). Just some angst and fluff basically. Thank you!

There it is. I hope I won’t disappoint. ;-) It’s angst. It’s fluff. You’ve been warned.

Blue Is His Favourite Colour - Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Sitting there in your blue dress, you were staring at the woman in red in front of you, scrutinizing her with - what you hoped - was an expressionless look as she was calmly drinking a cup of coffee, her legs crossed like Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct. But the truth was, if looks could kill then the one you were giving right now would be the deadliest. You were not only looking daggers at her. No you were looking an entire arsenal right now (rocket launcher included), feeling an intense jealousy eating you up more and more with each second passing in her presence. But that didn’t make Ada Wong drop her serene demeanour nor her over-confidence.

“That’s a good coffee.” You frowned at her sultry voice that was nothing else than her usual voice, you were sure of it. After all, that woman was oozing so much sexiness it was making you sick. “But I guess you didn’t pretend to be Leon to just chitchat with me around an espresso.” “What’s going on between you and Leon?” She smiled and placed her cup on the coffee table before her, fixing her beautiful almond-shaped black eyes on you. A scoff escaped her lips showing how amusing this situation was for her. But you wisely chose to ignore it. The woman in front of you was the kind that loved playing games. It didn’t take a genius to see it. It was part of her femme fatale persona. “You look way younger than I imagined. Guess that explains your insecurity.” You gritted your teeth at her commentary, probably because she was somewhat right. But the thing annoyed you the most was that she knew about you which meant Leon had talked to her about you. “And you look way older than what I imagined. Guess that explains the stripper dress.” You scornfully eyed at the short tight red dress she was wearing and that fitted her like a glove, not sure that this was appropriate for an afternoon coffee with a friend (which was the reason you had found to make her come here when you had texted her last week, pretending to be Leon). “That being said, you don’t answer my damn question.” “Ouch.” She grinned, not an ounce hurt by your words, before she eventually slouched a bit into the couch, knowing that you would not let her live your place without answers. You slightly glared. Even her lazy drooping posture was attractive. That was enraging. But despite your uncontrollable contempt for the woman, there was a part of you that couldn’t help but silently admit she was a very beautiful woman and that secretly wished you would look like that yourself. Even just a tiny bit. After all, you two couldn’t be more different.

Ada was the woman of all men’s dreams. Sexy, confident, mysterious. The type of girl that used to overshadow you in high school and definitely the type of woman that could outshine you even today. Who were you, wearing that baby blue dress, in front of that bombshell in a red dress? No wonder Leon had a thing for her. Cause he had, right?

“What do you want to know?” Ada asked. Finally, someone ready to talk and not treating you like a paranoid. “The truth.” That was simple as that. You were tired of Leon’s secrets. You were tired of him not telling you anything whatsoever about the mysterious Ada whose name was written on the silver compact powder you had accidently found in the drawer of his night stand one night when you were simply looking for a condom. But most of all, you were tired of fighting with him each time you were trying to put a conversation about her on the table. “That might take a while. We have a lot of history. It goes back to Raccoon City.” You nodded, that sentence not coming as a surprise but tugging at your heartstrings nevertheless. Of course they had history. Had she been a one-night stand or just a simple ex-girlfriend, Leon would have never eluded all your questions about her. He would have talked about her as freely as he had talked about his previous girlfriends. “But I strongly believe Leon would tell it better than I would. You should ask him.”

You were not stupid. You knew she wanted to hear you say it. You knew she wanted the ‘He doesn’t trust me and I don’t trust him’ speech, the crying and everything that went along with it and you were sure as hell not going to give her that satisfaction. “Look, Y/N. You seem to be a sweet girl - a bit jealous and insecure sure, but sweet. I’m sure you’ll give Leon a flock of blue-eyed baby Kennedys playing in a garden with your golden retriever.” “Seems like you played that scenario quite a few times in your head actually.” You spat. “I have yes. But I was never playing the role of the brood mare.” You fleered, not liking the comparison at all. But then again, Ada didn’t really exude mother material to you. “Let me guess. You were the homewrecker.” Ada laughed, enjoying your sass a bit too much than she would have expected. “What I’m saying is that that scenario is what Leon secretly wishes. But that’s not what I wish. We’re different he and I and believe me when I say we both came to realise a long time ago that we would never work. I can’t give him what he wants. We can’t be endgame; despite the feelings we can have for each other … or had, since, judging by the feminine touch of this apartment, you must have definitely been living here for a while.”

Her long monologue barely comforted you. Actually your brain had stopped functioning at the ‘feelings we have for each other’ part. That bit had hurt like hell. Guess looking an entire arsenal at Ada Wong is useless when she has the right dagger to pierce your heart in her perfectly manicured hand. “You’re wrong. He still has feelings for you. I can feel it in my bones.” You struggled to keep the nascent tears in your eyes, not wanting to look weak, or worse, childish. “Y/N” Ada sighed and bent over to put a hand on your knee. Her voice was suddenly very compassionate. It surprised you. She was about to say something when the door of the apartment slammed open.

Leon barged in the living room, furious and - to your surprise - not even a bit astonished to see Ada sitting on the couch, meaning he knew that she would be here. “You can’t be serious!” He harrumphed, clearly mad at you and you couldn’t blame him. You had gone behind his back after all. “Alright. I believe it’s my cue. I’ll let you two discuss this among yourselves.” Ada stood up, took her coat and without saying another word headed towards the main door. “Thanks for calling, Ada.” Leon said as he glared at you. Of course she had told him. “Anytime.”

The door shut, leaving you and Leon in the heavy silence of your apartment. You didn’t dare to look at him, dreading to cross his eyes and most importantly fearing the inevitable argument. And right now, given the circumstances, you were certain that this one would make the walls tremble like never before. “Why would you do that, Y/N?” He sounded hurt. Was he trying to make you feel guilty? Because that was working but you didn’t need him to feel guilty right now. “Texting Ada, really? I thought you trusted me.” Those last words made you go through the roof. “I thought you trusted me.” You repeated, probably louder than intended. “But at least you know how it feels now!” “I know how what feels? My girlfriend spying on me?” He shouted, mimicking your tone. “That’s overstating things, don’t you think?” That was not the time for sass as Leon made it crystal just by the way he narrowed his eyes and slightly shook his head, showing how exasperated he was. “Then tell me what is it that you’ve done?” “I went looking for the truth that you were refusing to give me. And guess what? That hurt like a bitch! Do you have any idea how I felt in front that woman?” He threw up his hands in annoyance. “You’re the one who invited her!” “Yeah but it is your fault. I would have never asked her to come if you had been honest with me. At least, Ada told me what I wanted to know.” “Oh, and what amazing thing did you learn?” He fixed his eyes on you with a ‘go on, give me your bullshit’ look that you found so irritable. “Nothing very particular but the part about your ‘long history’ and your ‘feelings’ was more than enough to make me understand I was right all along and that YOU. WERE. LYING.” You pointed your finger at him to accentuate each word. But you weren’t done just yet. You needed to vent a little bit more. “She’s not ‘no one’ or ‘nothing that should concern me’! You have feelings for her.” “ You got to be kidding me! How can you think that?” “ Oh easy. A) we don’t keep a girl’s compact in a night stand if she means nothing.” Leon rolled his eyes, not believing you were mentioning that stupid compact again. “Here it goes again.” “ And b) …” You weren’t even able to finish your sentence that Leon escaped the living room in the direction of your bedroom. He wasn’t leaving this fight? Right? Right?

“I’m not finished, Kennedy!” You yelled as you rushed to follow him. “Oh, but I am.” He growled as he opened the drawer of his nightstand. “I. am. fucking. done!” He said as he gritted his teeth, rummaging through the drawer. And suddenly he turned towards you and raised his hand. You covered your face by reflex and yelped when you saw Leon throw something with a brutality and a rage you had never thought he was capable of. Whatever is was, it smashed against the wall, far away from you with a loud clank. “There! Happy?” He asked with an angry voice before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him so violently that you jumped.

You turned your head towards the object Leon had thrown against the wall to see what it was even if you had quite an idea. A tear rolled down your cheek when you saw the silver powder compact lying on the floor, completely shattered. You were not the kind of couple that would normally break things during quarrels. You sat on the bed and took your face in your hands to cry your eyes out. This, all this Ada story had gone way too far. You had gone too far. You and your stupid jealousy. You and your insecurity.

You don’t know how long you sat there, thinking about all the things you had done and that had led your couple into this mess. But you knew that it was enough. You dried your tears and wiped the mascara that had run under your swollen reddened eyes before you eventually silently left the bedroom. You found Leon sitting quietly in the living room, with a glass and a bottle of whisky in front of him that you stared at with guilt and sadness. Leon was only drinking when he was feeling terrible. And if he was drinking right now, then it was undeniably your fault. You went to sit by his side, putting your hand on the glass before Leon could take another mouthful of the amber-coloured liquor. “I’m sorry.” You said softly. Leon put the drink back on the table and looked at you, his blue eyes mirroring the same sadness and pain that were in yours. “ I just don’t get it, Y/N. Why this obsession with Ada?” “ No, Leon. Please. I don’t wanna talk about her anymore.” You confessed, letting another tear run down your face. “Sweetheart, we have to. Cause this whole thing is killing us and I can’t bear that.” He cupped your face with his hand, wiping the tear with his calloused thumb, waiting for you to talk, to finally tell the truth.

“I’m afraid I’m not enough for you.” You admitted, glancing away from him. “ And when I found that stupid compact, I thought … I thought…” You didn’t know what you really thought. So many things actually. That Leon was having an affair or at least that he had feelings for another woman and that you were just a pastime, someone he would leave for her sooner or later. “… that Ada still meant something for me.” He finished your sentence when he realised you wouldn’t. You met his eyes. If this was truth time then you needed to ask. “Does she?” Leon sighed. But he was not annoyed at you this time. No he was annoyed at himself. “No. Not anymore. Look.” He took your hands in his. “I don’t know why I kept that silly compact. Truth is I didn’t even know it was still in my nightstand until you found it.” He had told you the same thing weeks ago. He had repeated it on and on actually but this time, contrary to the previous ones, you actually believed him. “She gave me that compact years ago, at a time when yeah, I had feelings for her. I’m not gonna lie. But here me out.” He cleared his throat to find the strength to talk to you and sat up straight on the couch. “Ada was a part of me I will never be able to forget.” That sentence was painful. It made you sob but Leon continued. You needed to hear what he had to say. “I met her in Raccoon City. She saved my life back there and she kept on saving me many times ever since. But the thing with Ada was that my feelings for her were leading me nowhere. And whatever relationship we had, it was just some cat and mouse game meaning I was running after her and she was running away. And apart from some very occasional sex, nothing ever truly happened.” You grimaced. You could have lived without knowing that. “But I was okay with that … until I met you. And I realised that whatever I was feeling for Ada was nothing in comparison to what I was feeling for you. A love that consumes me, that gives me a purpose, that makes me keep fighting everyday and want come back home every night, that make want to make this fucked up a better place. I love you, Y/N. And I should have told you all this since the very beginning.” You sniffed, looking at the sincerity and the love in his gorgeous blue eyes. “ Why didn’t you?” You asked, genuinely curious. “ Cause I’m stupid. Cause I thought that burying my past would be better for our couple.” That was indeed stupid. Had you known all this, it would have caused the both of you less pain “But I look nothing like Ada. How can you love me?” You asked. “ You just said it. You’re nothing like her. You’re my everything.” He grabbed your chin and laid a soft kiss on your lips that made shed a tear because of the intense love you could feel in it. “And, didn’t I tell you that blue was my favourite colour?” He joked with a wink. Good, cause as you were gazing at his eyes, you couldn’t help but think blue was also your favourite colour.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #ada wong #one shot #answering request

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fairfaxleasee · 3 years

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DADW Killer Gnomes (Part II)

@rangeredacted gave me the amazing/terrible suggestion to write something about killer garden gnomes for @dadrunkwriting. I wrote Part I last week (you can check it out here but couldn't finish because I had my second COVID shot.

But here's the end, in all it's bloody, camp horror glory:

Cullen pushed Solas out of his way and strode out of his office. He looked around for any sign of the blighted gnome the Inquisitor had brought back to Skyhold (he didn't care what Solas said, Ayala Trevelyan had brought the thing into the castle, she was responsible for everything that happened because she did - besides, if she hadn't put it in the garden, he wouldn't have taken it out of the garden and awoken it).

"Commander, as distasteful as we both find the idea, might I suggest things would proceed more smoothly if we were to work together to attempt to contain the gnomes you've released?"

"For the last time, Solas! This was not my fault!"

"Debatable, Commander. And while I am perfectly willing to engage you in such a debate, I do not believe that this is the time for such a discussion. If you would listen, I believe even you would not miss that we have bigger concerns than laying blame." Solas paused and inclined his head slightly. Now that the man wasn't lecturing him, Cullen could hear the screaming coming from several directions around Skyhold.

Cullen pursed his lips and glared.

"It is pleasing to see that you are occasionally capable of being rational. Perhaps you will realize that the entire situation was your fault after all."

As tempting as it was to push the man off the parapet they were on and into the carnage below, Cullen decided against it. Solas might be still be useful, and he could always push him later.

"Alright, Solas. You want to work together? Fine. What do you suggest we do first?"

"Well, that depends, Commander. Just how many scouts that seem to have on concept or concern whatsoever for their surroundings wander around here?"

"Too many." Cullen crossed his arms.

"Then I believe we should assume that the screaming is not coming from them and that they have already been... repurposed by the present adversary. We should therefore also assume that there are too many of the gnomes wandering around to attempt to capture them. As such, I believe the first thing we should do is find Ayala."

"So help me Solas, if you just want to check and make sure your girlfriend is okay -" Cullen didn't have an end to the threat, but judging by Solas' face he wouldn't have heard it anyway.

After a few seconds of silence, the man opened his mouth and drawled. "Not that I have any expectations at all that you will listen to me about this, but I am in no way concerned about Ayala's safety. I have every confidence she is perfectly fine, which is the reason I believe we should seek her out. Neither my magic nor your shields are any sort of match for her barriers."

The fact that Solas had a point about why finding Ayala was their best move only made the entire situation worse somehow. He exhaled through his nose and spoke through gritted teeth, "...fine. Where'd you leave her?"

Solas looked up and shook his head in a gesture Cullen hated. "I did not 'leave' her anywhere, Commander. Last I saw, she was on her way to the kitchens."

"Alright, we'll go to the kitchens then," Cullen took a step away from the apostate, but the man obviously had other plans because he tugged Cullen back towards him by his jerkin.

"I believe we should go around the long way. Unless, of course, you wish to meet a similar fate to your scouts."

Cullen looked down at the carnage in the coutryard below. "I... fine. You have a point."

Taking the long way around to the kitchens took a bit more work than Cullen would have liked (particularly when Solas lept effortlessly across the gap in the roof to get from the parapet to the main castle and had to keep Cullen from falling off - he'd never live that one down). Of course, Cullen liked what they found in the kitchen even less than he'd liked getting to the kitchen.

Ayala was kneeling on the floor next to the table and was handing out kernels of popcorn to individual gnomes while engaging them in what she seemed to think was perfectly normal conversation despite the fact that they were covered in blood and viscera.

"No, I already told you you can't have another one before everyone gets one."

"Bar-ra-rrr!"

"I'm not sure we have any more I can make."

"Ra-rargh-arr."

"Uhhh... I think they keep it in the larder? If you bring up more from there, I can make more and then you can have some."

"Rargh-arg-rarr."

"Well then you're not getting any more until everyone else gets one. Now scoot." She picked up the protesting gnome and put it aside from the line that had formed in front of her, then tapped it slightly to encourage it to move.

"Grrr-rar-rr..." The gnome saw Cullen and apparently decided to work out is frustration on being denied popcorn on him as it clawed its fingers and began running directly towards him. Cullen lashed out with a quick kick that launched the thing toward the nearest wall where it shattered and released a large cloud of dust.

"Is that dust something we have to be worried about?" Cullen glared as he directed the question at Solas.

"Not unless you are allergic. However, it does mean that was not the original gnome. The original gnome will not be destroyed so easily."

"Lovely." Cullen started striding towards Ayala, who had resumed handing out popcorn.

The gnomes waiting in the line took offence to Cullen's movements, but unlike the one he had just kicked, their protests weren't aggressive. One of them rapped his boot with its fist and gesticulated angrily between Cullen, the popcorn, and the back of the line. Cullen glared down at the thing. He was in no mood to be lectured on manners by a blood-covered, killer garden gnome.

He reached the table and grabbed the bowl of popcorn away from Ayala. She looked up at him in alarm. "Hey! That's mine!"

He was denied the opportunity to respond to her protest by the entire line of gnomes turning on him. He tried throwing the popcorn on the ground, but the gnomes were far more interested in trying to tear him apart than whatever they wanted the popcorn for. "Solas? A little help?"

"Perhaps you should think of this as a lesson in taking things that aren't yours, Commander. Besides, if you can't handle a few statues, perhaps the Inquisition should be seeking someone else for your position regardless."

Cullen threw whatever gnomes he could get his hands on at Solas (and annoyingly kept missing, the man was just as slippery in his movements as his words). Between that, his kicks, and the fact that he was in armor, he managed to get rid of the blighted things without being injured that badly in the process.

He shook out his jerkin just to make sure none of the creatures were hiding in it. Once he was convinced that the kitchen was currently free of them, he turned back towards Ayala. She and Solas were whispering to each other, but more concerning than that was one of the damn gnomes that was perched on her shoulder. The thing spotted Cullen and stuck its fingers in its mouth and protruded a stone tongue in his direction. Cullen snarled and stalked over to the pair (three?) of them. As soon as he was close enough, he reached out for the gnome, only to be thrown back against a far wall by one of Ayala's barriers.

"...Inquisitor, we've talked about you looking before you lash out with a barrier!"

"You surprised me!"

I surprised her. She was feeding an entire line of blood-covered garden gnomes popcorn and I surprised her!

Cullen thought he saw a grin flash across Solas' face before he turned back to Ayala.

"Vhenan, do you recall finding the ring your friend here was describing?"

"Yeah, Cullen took it." She pointed towards him. "But I can find it. He puts all the stuff in his office."

Cullen growled as he stood and dusted himself off. He decided to ignore the unfounded accusation and instead try and figure out just what was being discussed while he was busy trying not to die. "What ring?"

Ayala and the gnome walked out the door leading to the castle proper, leaving Cullen alone with Solas. All things considered, Cullen would rather have been left along with the gnome.

"There is a ring that will allow an individual some modicum of control over the gnomes. They appear willing to work for Ayala, so long as she can supply them with popcorn."

"Why," Cullen wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer, "Do they want popcorn?"

"In all honestly, Commander, I have no idea. I admit, I was under the impression that the creatures did not eat, however it does not appear that giving them access to popcorn causes any harm. I suggest you try not to dwell on it."

Cullen barely resisted the urge to scream.

A few days later and the mess caused by the blighted garden gnomes still wasn't cleaned up (and while Cullen would never admit it, the peace brought on by the distinct lack of oblivious scouts was a relief). Cullen had shut the doors of his office to the scene (and the smell) and was trying to re-create some of his files (there were tiny foot and hand prints all over his originals). He looked up when the door swung open and Ayala walked in.

"...Inquisitor. Welcome back. Did you remember the rule this time?"

The one good thing that had come out of the mess was Cassandra insisted that she accompany Ayala again to make sure the mage didn't sneak (or, as was her story, "accidentally forget") anything into Skyhold again.

"Yes, they're bringing everything I found."

"...they?" Cullen wasn't sure why, but he did not like the sound of that.

"Yeah. They. I'm going back to my room now." She turned and strode out of the office.

In her wake, a line of oversized piles of junk, suspended in the air by little stone legs, began to strut into Cullen's office. The first gnome deposited its pile on Cullen's desk and grinned at him before trotting off after Ayala.

"...Cullen?" someone whispered.

"Vhenan, it does not count as informing the Commander if you speak too softly for him to hear you."

Cullen started at the condescending drawl. The next thing he realized, his forehead collided with his desk as his chair slid out from under him. He shook his head a few times to clear the last vestiges of the worst nightmare he could recall having (and check to make sure the piles of useless trinkets he had just watched the gnomes deposit in his office were figments of his imagination).

"Look what I found!" Ayala triumphantly placed something grey on Cullen's desk and grinned at him. "I want to go put him in the garden, he says he'll like it there."

Cullen could feel the throbbing in his forehead, but whether it was from hitting it against the desk or the sight of the thing Ayala wanted to put in the garden, he didn't know. The thing that was currently on his desk looked far too much like Cullen's least-favorite apostate (right down to the superior frown and downcast eyes) with a comically large head. He glared across his office at the man whose image the thing appeared to be carved in.

Once their eyes met, Solas' narrowed and he mouthed, "Get rid of it, Commander!"

Cullen pursed his lips and shook his head. He slammed his hands down on the desk. "OUT!"

Ayala leaned away with a slight frown on her face. "So... I can put him in the garden?"

"NO!" Cullen snatched the thing off his desk.

Ayala jumped back. Her frown was more pronounced and Cullen thought he might have just made her cry. Again.

"Come, vhenan, it appears the Commander is in yet another of his moods."

Solas swung his arm towards the door to Cullen's office to invite Ayala out. She nodded and shuffled off, still looking upset. Solas waited until she had passed him before turning to Cullen with a glare and a hiss of, "Get rid of that, Commander!"

Cullen decided against calling after the man to remind him of which of them was in charge. Instead he grabbed the gnome and rushed to the tallest part of Skyhold he could find.

"You were never here." He shook his finger at the thing, pulled his arm back, and sent it flying as far as he could throw it.

He never heard it hit the ground. Hopefully, the ground was just too far away for him to be able to.

#da drunk writing circle #fanfic #horror #parody #solas/trevelyan #solas/f!trevelyan #solas/inquisitor #solas x trevelyan #solas x inquisitor #solas x female inquisitor #cullen #dragon age cullen #cullen rutherford #commander cullen

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takerfoxx · 4 years

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She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, Season 5, Episode 13, “The Heart, Part 2,” First Impressions!

I am going to miss this show, I really am.

Well. Here we are. The final episode of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, an almost three decade later reboot of a show I’ve never seen, which in turn was a spin-off of a show I’ve never seen, and yet somehow became one of my favorite shows of all time.

Now, when this show was first announced, there was a lot of pushback. You had the usual murder’s row of so-called anti-SJW troglodytes who like to swoop in on anything that looks like it wasn’t designed with straight white guys in mind (and speaking as a straight white guy, these guys are just. So. Tiresome!), as well as fans of the original who didn’t care for the new character designs, direction, or lack of connection to Masters of the Universe. Which, okay, I get it, and to be honest the little to no He-Man business still strikes me as weird, but come on guys. It’s been almost thirty years! Times have changed, audiences have changed, and the targeted audience of kids’ shows today are very different from what they were in the eighties.

But despite all that nontroversy, She-Ra rose above and established itself as a genuinely great show in it’s own right, becoming both a critical and commercial success. Like, okay, it wasn’t Avatar the Last Airbender or Steven Universe-level big, but it definitely established a real niche for itself and gathered a sizeable fanbase. The excellent writing, incredibly on-point comedic timing, superb voice acting, casual diversity, oodles of complex and likeable characters, tight-plotting, mature handling of difficult topics, and immaculate direction made it out to be an amazing children’s show from a decade that has had no shortage of amazing children’s shows, and expectations were insane for the final season, with the climatic final episode being under incredible scrutiny.

I mean, it makes sense, right? For once, given the huge LGBTQ fanbase the show has, and given how many times the LGBTQ community have been burned at the last second, there is little wonder that they would be wary. And while some shows like the aforementioned Avatar the Last Airbender and Breaking Bad have remained of high quality throughout its run and delivered with an excellent finale (or so I’m told, still working my way through), others like Voltron Legendary Defender and Game of Thrones have become notorious for shitting the bed in their latter halves, and other shows like Steven Universe have had more mixed receptions. So how would She-Ra turn out? Would it end up flopping at the end, or would it stick the landing and enter the pantheon of shows that actually completed their entire story arcs and are fondly remembered?

Yes. Yes, it did.

The final season was spectacular. It started off all right, but from the third episode on immediately turned into pure brilliance, one that seemed to constantly top itself with wonderful character development, emotional payoffs, scenes of gripping tension, ballsy writing, and fantastic action. And any finale that makes me cry gets a thumb’s up from me.

Now, obviously I have a lot of gushing to do, but before it do, I should point out that I don’t think the finale is 100% perfect. There are things that kind of bugged me, and a few others that I felt really could have done better. Of course none of them were deal breakers, only little flaws that I feel could have stood to either have had more focus or different execution. And I might as well get the negative things out of the way.

And for me, the biggest problem is Shadow Weaver’s exit.

And to be clear, I don’t have a problem whatsoever with Shadow Weaver dying. I wanted her to die. I’m glad she died. Nor do I have a problem for her dying to save the two girls she’s spent two decades abusing. And nor do I have a problem with them mourning her death, given that they never actually forgave her, and it only made sense that they would have complicated feelings toward her. All of those are fine!

What I have a problem with is how that moment was framed and directed. It was framed like a heroic sacrifice, from the dramatic final stand moment to Shadow Weaver being suddenly acting selfless to her telling Catra how proud she was of her and finally showing her face.

Everything about that moment was exceptionally well done, yes, but the problem I have is that it doesn’t feel earned. That’s the sort of end you give a morally complex character that has been struggling with their negative qualities throughout a long character arc. And I’m sorry, but while Shadow Weaver is a pretty great and complicated character in her own right, she as never even tried to redeem herself until that moment. With Catra, we still saw how much her actions haunted and tormented her, even when she was at her worst. We saw her wrestling with her ingrained toxic behaviors and her conscience, so that when she finally makes the decision to do something right and, as far as she knew, sacrificed her life to rescue Glimmer and save Adora, it felt all kinds of earned!

But even after defecting to the Princess Rebellion, Shadow Weaver showed no signs of wanting to change. She showed no signs of regretting her mistreatment of Adora and Catra, and still continued to demean, undercut, and gaslight them whenever she was with them, and whenever she was called out on it, she would just brush it off and/or roll her eyes. Even when she was “helping” and “praising” her golden child Adora, she still continued to try to twist her head and mold her into what she wanted Adora would be. And her treatment of Catra didn’t change at all.

So I’m sorry, but that moment just didn’t work for me. Yes, I know Noelle has said that her sacrifice was still selfishly motivated, and I believe it, but it still felt off, especially with her finally telling Catra that she was proud of her, when she was AGAIN demeaning her earlier in that same episode! It carries the unintentional implication that Catra needed Shadow Weaver’s validation in order to move on. I honestly would have preferred that she never got it but realized that she didn’t need it to begin with. And that “You’re welcome,” which is incredibly condescending, was framed as a badass final line. There’s a disconnect between her character arc and its payoff that feels off. I wish something had been handled differently.

The second issue I had was just how rushed a lot of the character payoffs felt at the end. Yes, I know Noelle said that she doesn’t want to do an epilogue and would like us to decide for ourselves how things turned out, and that’s fine. But one day later wouldn’t hurt. Wrong Hordak was shown a couple times cowering next to Swift Wind in group shots and then straight up disappeared. And given their complicated history together, Scorpia and Catra deserved so much more than just a hi and a hug. Chipped Micah was given more time to harm and demean Glimmer than real Micah was given to love her. The Entrapdak thing got more focus and despite what I said about Hordak needing to either die or lose his memories, I’m not too upset that he didn’t do either, but instead simply broke free and got a happy ending, and Mermista’s line of, “So, are we like okay with this?” was great, but it feels like there should have been more. And I know they never had their own character arc and did all they needed to do last season, but if you’re going to bring Double Trouble back, then give us more than just one episode and a two-second cameo at the end.

Like, just give us some kind of montage of the rebuilding stage. Show us Wrong Hordak leading his scared and confused brothers in becoming individuals. Have him meet the real Hordak and show us how they would respond to one another! Give us a proper Catra/Scorpia reconciliation! Do more with Double Trouble or don’t bring them back at all. Hell, pair them up with Wrong Hordak partway through the season so they could bounce off each other, because that would be comedy GOLD! And while I’m glad that we at least got to see Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio (and they adopted Imp!), it sucks that that was their only scene this season, and it didn’t even have any lines. I’m not so upset about Huntara, because I know her voice actress is hard to get ahold of, so I’m okay with her just getting a wordless scene, but the others kind of bug.

I understand that time was a factor, but surely something could have been done.

All right, now I got all those out my system, let the gushing BEGIN!

Catra and Adora. Oh man. Oh man oh man oh man oh man. Now, I know I said that Catra needs to leave in order for her redemption to work, but even though she didn’t and got pretty much forgiven and accepted by everyone she hurt, I’m still very happy with how her redemption arc went down. Because she made the switch early in the season, showed genuine regret for what she did, made real attempts to apologize to those she hurt without expecting forgiveness, was shown wrestling with her bad traits, sometimes falling back into them, sometimes almost succumbing to bad habits, but was also shown finally making the right decisions and rising above them. She was the best-written character in the show with the most complex character arc, and they fucking NAILED the landing.

And that is because of her love of Adora.

Catra and Adora, two white-hot messes of weirdly compatible issues. Catra is so afraid of abandonment that she instinctively pushes those she loves away or runs away herself rather than let them leave her, and Adora only knows how to place others before herself, to be selfless to a fault, take all the blame for everything, and not let herself be the one who’s loved and protected. The two needed each other in order to overcome their issues, to put aside the damage Shadow Weaver instilled in them.

And they finally did.

Catra came back for Adora. She stayed by her side, refused to leave, and refused to let Adora give up. And Adora rose above her feelings of failure, allowed herself to be loved by another, and became whole.

And then we got it. We finally got the moment we’ve all been waiting for, all been praying for, all wanted so goddamned desperately.

We got the Big Goddamn Kiss.

The love each other. They’re lovers. They’re soulmates. After everything, how could they be anything else? It’s pure, 100% romantic love, a full, no ambiguity friends-to-rivals-to-enemies-to-allies-to-lovers storyline. Not subtext, no reading between the lines. It’s real, it’s canon, it’s between the two main leaders, and it happened right on the screen and saved the goddamned world.

Catra finally reached out to someone and showed love, and Adora finally allowed herself to be brought up and loved. And it’s that love that overcame Horde Prime’s virus and destroyed the Heart of Etheria. It’s that love that freed the magic, released She-Ra, and allowed her to vanquish Horde Prime once and for all.

And hey, two girls kissing, turning into a rainbow, and annihilating the influence of a controlling religious cult and the symbol of exploitative colonizers? Hmmm, subtle!

I love it.

Look, after everyone talking about how much the finale made them cry, and after already sobbing my eyes out when Angella sacrificed herself in season 3, I was worried that I wouldn’t feel the same, that everything had already been spoiled for me so it wouldn’t have the same emotional impact. Hell, the kiss itself had been spoiled for me! So if I knew it was coming, how could it affect me like it did others.

I was wrong. I was so wrong. When Catra screamed at Adora that she loved her and always had, the tears came gushing out. And when they finally did kiss, it made me happier than I had been for a long time. It was such a beautiful moment, and it was so wonderful to see all the magic unleashed, turning Etheria back into the paradise it was meant to be, and the Spire into a giant floating sprig of broccoli!

The Horde was finally defeat, and Horde Prime ripped out of his Wi-Fi network and destroyed once and for all. He will not rise again. His corrupted vision of purity is finally eradicated once and for all, and the galaxy is free again.

It was wonderful.

Other moments I want to highlight! Beginning with Bow!

Oh Bow. I haven’t talked as much about you as I did at the start of the show, but you really are wonderful. After similar unpowered male goofball sidekicks like Xander and Sokka being big balls of toxic masculinity and ingrained misogyny caused by insecurities that they had to overcome, we get an unpowered male goofball sidekick who is a shining example of positive masculinity, someone who knows who he is and is comfortable with it, someone who more than holds his own in battle, constantly makes himself useful, and stands proud with his superpowered friends. And even then, he still feels like real person, one that gets frustrated, feels down, and gets angry at both himself and his friends, but still continues on, because he’s a soldier and that’s what he does.

So it was wonderful that he got the Rise Up and Fight speech, because he deserved it, and oh it felt so good, seeing all those instances of people throwing off Horde Prime’s control while his words were playing. Bow really is wonderful.

And Hordak! Look, I know what I said about wanting more from his ending, but my God, that moment when he threw off Horde Prime’s control and shot Horde Prime in the back to save Entrapta and reclaim his identity was so! Fucking! Cool! I was cheering in my car when that happened! So good!

And hey, give it up for Glimmer for not listening to Chipped Micah and refusing to back down. She overcame a brilliant sorcerer wielding dark magic through the power of sheer stubbornness! Chef kiss, beautiful!

Though I really do think she got most of her stubbornness from her mom. Miss yah, Angie.

And Scorpia and Perfuma? Why, I think I like that quite a lot! Why yes, give Perfuma a big, strong girlfriend with a huge heart! Give Scorpia tiny, cute hippie girlfriend who will take no shit from anyone. Yes, I like this very much.

So...yeah. This really was wonderful. The world is saved, the Best Friend Squad is about to go on a space romp, and it feels good. And from there? Well, Noelle told us to come with that ourselves, so yeah, I’m sure Etheria was able to fully rebuild following the Horde’s destruction. I’m sure that Wrong Hordak became some kind of benevolent leader to his lost brothers and helped them come to grips with their individuality. I’m sure that Scorpia rebuilt the Scorpion Kingdom from the Fright Zone’s ruins and made it a haven to the lost Horde soldiers. I’m sure that Sea Hawk and Mermista burned down a boat together. I’m sure that Glimmer and Bow were married and became king and queen of Brightmoon and had a long and loving reign with lots of babies. I’m sure that Entrapta was given all the discarded Horde and First Ones tech to crack and find good uses for and remained as happy as a clam, especially considering the Hordak harem she’s built. I’m sure that Adora and Catra continued to build each other up, helped and supported one another to keep themselves from falling into bad habits, and Melog was always there as a faithful therapy magi-cat. I’m sure that Perfuma helped Catra along with meditative exercises and Catra never had the heart to tell her that she was just napping. I’m sure that Frosta grew up to be a strong and powerful queen who also founded her own iceball league. I’m sure that everyone started going to Netossa and Spinnerella’s game nights and just decided to put up with Netossa when she got like...that, because at that point she deserved to. I’m sure that Swift Wind finally did emancipate the horses and taught them to form their own weird society, but still made time to visit Madam Razz. I’m sure that Kyle and Rogelio became proud adopted fathers of little Imp, and one day while chilling at the local pub, Lonnie caught the eye of a big, strong purple woman.

I’m sure they were all very happy from there on.

I am going to miss this show. It was a wonderful experience, one that’s given me so much. It made me laugh,it made me cry, it made me cheer, it made me shiver, it made me bite my nails, but most of all, it made me happy.

So thank you Noelle and Molly. Thank you Chuck and Mary Elizabeth. Thank you Sunna and Aaliyah. Thank you Aimee, AJ, Karen, Marcus, Keston, Reshma, Lorraine, Christine, Adam, Genesis, Vella, Merit, Gina, and Jordan. Thank you to all the writers, animators, and directors. Thank you to everyone who worked on this show. Thank you all.

And a very special thank you to @smxmuffinpeddling for filling my dash with She-Ra content, which convinced me to check this show out in the first place!

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asherlockstudy · 5 years

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Here’s why every character surviving to the end of GoT is a loser

Yes, even your Starks

I made a post yesterday saying I would like it if Jon was King Beyond the Wall and Sansa Queen in the North. Despite this, I will now tell you why this was the worst ending possible for every character involved in the last episode, including the aforementioned ones.

Daenerys. I will say it. Of all the horrible endings, Dany's was the least horrible one! The major problem with her plot line is how rushed it is. Other than that, we always had signs of what she could become. Dany ends up being the female Hitler and honestly I don't mind that. She came big and she left big...just from the other side.

Drogon. GREEDY HUMANS! FUCK YOUR POWER HUNGER! IT’S ALL FOR NOTHIIIIIIIIIIING! DROGON’S OUTTA HERE

Jon. Oh boy. I never cared for Jon yet even I felt sorry for that character. No wonder Kit was crying. Jon becomes the ultimate vessel for the plot and the sole reason of his whole heritage and existence is to cut off Dany's bullshit. What's worse is that he can't do it on his own, he can't think for himself and for the people anymore and Tyrion has to brainwash him. He becomes a coward, shivering in front of his destiny and his true name. Let alone that he has zero chemistry with Emilia and therefore the oh so tragic moment when he overcomes himself and kills her convinces nobody. Yes, he finds the free folk in the end but the problem is that it is not his choice. It is not self-exile. His siblings sent him away all alone to appease... Greyworm. A disgrace to all the years Kit was shooting with that costume in a snowstorm.

Greyworm. Ultimate character assassination. Yes, Greyworm was fiercely loyal to Dany but he never struck me as blind to justice and mercy. Would Jorah obey THIS Dany even after her death? Man, I don't think so. Even Jorah would quit before Jon and Greyworm and this says something about this writing. But the absolute worst is that in the end he sails to Naath. What, were we supposed to feel sorry for him? To empathise? He's a mass murderer. Why the fuck should I care if he misses Missandei? The last moment "he sails for a good cause now" is fucking ridiculous.

Tyrion. Up until he's imprisoned, he's relatively okay. After that, he forgets very easily his losses and especially the one of his most beloved family member, his brother's demise. His trial is a joke, where he soon takes the upper hand again, and chooses the worst candidate for a king (more on that later). After that, it is clear clever Tyrion learned nothing from his journey, his experiences and his grave mistakes that led to the destruction of the whole city and his own family. He happily becomes the Hand of the King again, enjoys sitting in the chair and tells stories about brothels, thus confirming that whatever they do, the governance of poor Westeros will always be shitty.

Bran. Man. Where do I begin. Bran the broken. Dude, Bran is probably the least broken in there. To a fault. The implication here is that Bran played them all. He clearly says that he headed south because he knew he would be offered the crown. What happened to the “I don't want anymore, I live in the past, don't envy me, I am not the Lord of Winterfell, I'm something else now” crap? In some scenes Bran has a glimmer in his eyes but the problem is that if they wanted to play with that (and it would be fairly decent), they should have made Bran openly evil or greedy or machiavellian at least before the end. If he is just the 3ER, I doubt he wants power or to involve himself with the matters of the country and the commonwealth. He should be wise, humble, withdrawn and helpful only when a crisis arose that nobody but him was aware of. Instead, we get a very human and flawed Bran who doesn't agree with the rest of his supposedly semi-divine nature. Furthermore, we were already proven right - from those few scenes we got it is already clear that Bran is an insufficient king, distant and absent. He comes and goes in seconds lmao... I'll check where Drogon is. I must go now... Worst choice for a king ever made. This becomes an emotionless Big Brother dystopia.

Sansa. I could be happy she became the Queen in the North but do you know when this would make sense? If the king of Westeros was someone other than her brother!!!!!!!!! What's the point of an autonomous North when it’s a Stark that rules the Seven Kingdoms anyway? Do you know what the only conclusion that can be drawn is? That Sansa’s one and only objective was to rule. She risked Jon’s head and spread his secret only to have a chance at having a relative in the Iron Throne that she could later persuade to let her rule on her own in Winterfell. Being the Lady / Queen of Winterfell is more important to Sansa than her relatives’ safety or the unity of the family. Remember when Arya insinuated this in S7? She was right... Even in Tyrion’s trial, which is a joke, Sansa revels in taking the lead out of nowhere. Think about this before you cheer for her success. Imagine if Jaime was the King of Westeros. Would Cersei demand that the Westerlands would be autonomous so that she could be queen there? Nah. There you have it, at this point, the Lannisters seem much much more likeable than the Starks. (Which I always kinda thought but now it’s obvious.)

Arya. It’s so obvious that D&D loved Arya but didn’t know what to do with her character. Her choice to travel once again is an excuse to wrap up her story. It is clear that Arya’s story arc ended with the death of the Night King but they couldn’t kill her off and they also feared that if they gave her a conventional ending with Gendry, it would not be feminist enough. What they don’t understand is that feminism is a woman’s liberty to make choices and change goals according to her aspirations and desires without being restricted by ANY social expectation or stereotype whatsoever and not being a tomboy for tomboy’s sake. Last season Arya wanted to return home, home, home but now she’s like nah I ain’t going back there ever again, I’m going where No One has been. Okay, great. I suspect Arya is once again pissed off with Sansa and honestly I can’t blame her. So Arya has the most pointless ending ever and of course when she says she’s leaving and never coming back, Sansa and Bran are sooo emotional. NOT. I saw people saying “at least this scene was so emotional” and... are you kidding me? Neither Sansa nor Bran gave a fuck about Arya’s decision. Maybe Jon a little but it’s all so cold and distant between the wolf pack, my ass. I guess the actors gave up at some point and I wholeheartedly understand it... what would you do with a script like that? The Starks won the thrones and lost themselves in the process. Nice.

Brienne. Let me tell you why even Jaime had a better ending than Brienne. So, apparently in the end Brienne is the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. First of all, why on earth would she prefer this to being in Sansa’s Queensguard? She wouldn’t. Having her there in the council forced to endure Tyrion and Bronn’s ridiculous conversations is a fucking disgrace. That was not what she was meant for. She survived it all to end up in a dystopia. Furthermore, she functions as a vessel to restore Jaime’s reputation. You know what the problem here is? That it does not fucking matter anymore! The point about Jaime’s redemption was to finally receive some acknowledgement for all the good he had done, to SEE people appreciate him with his own eyes. Jaime is in heaven now (fight me). He never got to know if people would eventually respect him and his contributions. If the scene had one meaning, that was that Brienne moved on. Not from her love but from her heartbreak. She understood Jaime. She probably knew that Jaime’s respect and adoration and attraction for her was all genuine but he simply couldn’t stand a peaceful life when his siblings and especially his sister and his child were confronting death. Brienne still loves Jaime and doesn’t hold anything against him because, yeah, his departure was very problematic but this man also rescued her from rape and lost his hand, saved her life, armoured her, gave her his own sword which was one of the most valuable in the world, gave her what now is her best friend, always valued her opinion and acted based on it, followed her to the North to measure up next to her, saved her life many more times, knighted her when no other knight would, shared carefree and intimate moments with her and was the first one to love her and reciprocate. And whatever D&D do, all this simply DOES NOT FUCKING CHANGE. So how could Brienne ever hate him, especially a woman like her, full of love and goodness and understanding? Thus, I know many of you will disagree, but I think Brienne should have got pregnant. Don’t forget that Brienne, behind all her defense mechanisms, was a romantic at heart and had many traditional “womanly” desires and this is perfectly okay. She wanted to be courted, loved, held and married, provided that there was someone she deemed worthy in certain ways. Brienne still carries Oathkeeper. None of what happened between her and Jaime is changed or will be forgotten. So what would be a better gift for her, the most beautiful token of that short time she lived her dream with a man she loved unconditionally and a man who did for her things nobody had done for her before? Or even for most women? How many women, pretty or not, can claim their man saved them from death and rape many times, was willing to sacrifice himself at any time for them and gave them objects of inestimable value that were meant only for noble men to wield or wear? In conclusion, I am willing to bet that Brienne would want a child from Jaime, a reminder of him and her happiest memories. She would return to Tarth where she would bloody be the Lady of Tarth and continue the lineage of her father instead of serving others her entire life. She would be a great mother. Imagine a child with the prospects of both Jaime and Brienne, raised by her. Furthermore, Tyrion was the Hand of the King and he would certainly persuade Bran to legitimize the kid and then, there would be a continuation of the great House Lannister, which D&D were so eager to obliterate. Now, we can only hope for Tyrion’s visits in brothels. Nice.

Ser Pod. Okay, let’s be serious for a moment. I know it is sweet that Pod survived everything and is now a knight but... he doesn’t deserve that title, all right? Look what Brienne has been through to get her title. Then Pod is like oh yeah I’m a knight too. Fanservice at its best. I mean, obviously Brienne made him a knight lol but this is not serious storytelling. Pod deserves all the good endings in the world but being a knight just to carry Bran around is not one of them.

Davos. I love Davos with all my heart. I told myself that surely, there is a reason he’s been in (I think) seven out of the eight seasons. After Melisandre died, I thought he had some great part to play before the end. And you know what? He did! His role was to call out the level of stupidity in this writing. “Did the Lord of Light just fuck off after the fight?!” Yes, Davos, he did!!! D&D had a character make fun of their own writing, what can I say after that? Anyway, what I mean is, there was literally no reason for lovely Davos’ survival and whole existence in general.

Bronn. Talking about useless characters. He was not always useless but now he is. Which is why he is the most fitting for this council of incompetence. How did I dare question his position in that council - he has just as much right as everyone else to be there. Another fanservice without substance.

Sam. Yeah, he found the title for the Song of Ice and Fire, something that 99% of the fans had predicted years ago. That’s it. No Tyrion in it and at this point, I agree it was probably for the best.

Edmure. Best character ending ever. He started as a fool and survived the show as a fool. I shouldn’t include him here, he’s the only winner. Him and Tormund.

I don’t know if I forgot someone but I want to add as a side-note that Jaime hardly had the worst ending after all. I mean, he died as an overly emotional, addicted and not very clever tragic hero but, I mean, he still was a tragic hero. Everyone else’s character here was a joke with the exception maybe of Dany and Brienne, whose endings were only rushed and incomplete respectively but at least they were not jokes.

#got spoilers #got season 8 #game of thrones #braime #brienne of tarth #anti-dany #jon snow #anti-sansa #anti-bran #jaime lannister #tyrion lannister #bronn #podrick payne #ser davos #edmure tully #samwell tarly #arya stark

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claraxbarton · 5 years

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Mandatory Fun Day: St. Patrick’s Day!

Written for the first @mandatoryfunday post!

-o-

It’s after two in the morning when Bucky opened his door.

There had been no knock, but after blinking awake in the dark, alone and cold in his bed, to the sounds of low voices and stumbling feet in the hall outside of his apartment, Bucky had known that whoever was on the other side of his door was likely to require assistance. All the same, he had waited five minutes, had gotten up and pulled on pants and filled up a glass with water and hunted down aspirin and put together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and arranged the supplies on the kitchen counter.

And then he opened his door.

Standing on the other side are, without a doubt, two of the dumbest, prettiest, most irritating blond haired assholes known to mankind. It’s just Bucky’s shit luck that he has a type, and that this is it.

Two pairs of blue eyes look at him, take in his unimpressed face and crossed arms and sleep-mussed hair.

Steve Rogers had been the first boy Bucky ever kissed, the first boy he ever loved, the first - the first a lot of things. And while the love Bucky felt for Steve had changed, over the years, had shaped itself into something that wasn’t some kind of all-consuming passionate thing that it had once been, it was still no less intense and no less important to him. Loving Steve Rogers had felt like the right thing since the day they meet, and Bucky couldn’t imagine being in a world that didn’t have him in it, that didn’t have them loving each other in it.

Clint Barton, on the other hand, wasn’t someone Bucky had ever, in a thousand years, imagined himself falling for. For one thing, he was a former Marine sniper and he and Bucky had first met back when Bucky and Steve were still in the Army, and their first exchange of words had included a lot of very non-sexual ‘fuck yous’ and they had both ended up with bruised knuckles and bloody faces. For another thing, he was so much like Steve ‘I’m not worth dying for but I will lay down my life for every stranger no matter what’ Rogers that there was no way Bucky was dumb enough to get involved with two such idiots.

Turned out, Bucky was dumb enough.

It took five years - took them both getting discharged, Bucky after losing an arm and Clint after losing the will to pull the trigger for another enlistment; took them being re-introduced via Natasha, who seemed to know everyone and who swore to this day that she didn’t meddle in her friends’ love lives despite the fact that Bucky didn’t know a single one of her friends that hadn’t been set up on at least three blind dates by her; took a one night stand and then six months of drunken booty calls before they could stand to actually go on a proper date with each other.

But here they were, two years of dating and nearly six months of living together later, and Bucky was standing in his apartment glaring at his best friend and his boyfriend while they grinned back at him with their dumb, pretty faces and stupid blue eyes.

They were both messes - clothes and hair disheveled, faces bruised and knuckles even worse off.

It was, in a small way, maybe Bucky’s fault. He had, after all, been the one to laugh at Steve’s Kiss Me, I’m Irish shirt last St. Patrick’s Day and suggest that Steve get one that said Fight Me, I’m Irish instead. And of course Clint had heard Bucky say that. And of course Clint had gotten Steve a shirt. And of course, Steve had gotten Clint one to match.

So, really, Bucky had only himself to blame now that it was St. Patrick’s Day - or two hours after the end of it - and he had two drunk, broken blond idiots on his doorstep.

“You realize you have a key, right?” He asked.

They looked at each other, and then offered nearly identical sheepish grins to Bucky.

“Lost my keys in the river,” Clint shrugged.

“Forgot I had a key,” Steve mumbled, patting at his pockets until he located his keys and then held up the key ring, apparently for no reason whatsoever.

Bucky turned away from him and narrowed his eyes at Clint.

“You lost your keys in the river,” he repeated.

Clint grinned at him.

It was his ‘I know I’m fucking stupid but don’t you remember how good I am at rim jobs and foot massages’ smile.

Bucky sighed and moved to one side, allowing Clint into the apartment.

Steve looked a little forlorn.

“You need to crash here or are you going to go home and beg Sam’s forgiveness?” Bucky asked him.

Steve looked like he was genuinely torn.

Bucky rolled his eyes and pulled him into a hug.

“Go home, punk. Sam knows you’re an idiot and he still puts up with you anyway.”

“Puts up with you too,” Steve mumbled into Bucky’s shirt.

Steve smelled like sweat and beer and smoke. It was not Bucky’s favorite combination.

He shoved Steve away and Steve gave him a dopey, drunk grin.

Bucky shut the door in his face.

Clint was in the kitchen, leaning against the fridge, eyes closed, half-eaten sandwich in one hand and glass of water in the other. The aspirin was nowhere in sight.

“How many fights did you get into?” Bucky asked him.

“Seven,” Clint said after taking another bite of the sandwich. “No, eight. There was that guy on the subway.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky muttered. He supposed he should really be grateful that neither he nor Sam had had to go and bail their asses out of jail.

Bucky stepped into Clint’s space, pressed a kiss to his forehead and then urged him to drink more water.

Clint complied and then opened his eyes. He looked at Bucky, eyes a little glazed, definitely drunk and exhausted.

“You know I’m the luckiest guy in the world, right?” Clint asked.

Bucky lifted his eyebrows.

Clint gestured with the sandwich and the water, some kind of broad, sweeping motion that was maybe supposed to encompass the apartment, maybe all of Brooklyn.

“Coulda died a thousand times before I met you. Coulda died a hundred since. But instead I’m here with you and that makes me the luckiest guy in the world.”

Clint, contrary to all of Bucky’s expectations, turned deeply serious and philosophical when drunk. Sure, give him three beers and he became as handsy and goofy as Steve when Steve had have seven beers, but give Clint seven beers and for the time it took him to either sober up or pass out after that, he was quietly but sincerely analyzing his life choices and those of the people he cared most about.

“So you celebrated that realization by getting into eight fights?” Bucky asked, trying to deflect, because he didn’t mind this version of Clint, he genuinely didn’t mind any version of Clint - not even the whiny man-baby sick version of him when Clint was struck down with a cold once a year - but he knew Clint almost always felt embarrassed after the fact when he took this kind of turn.

“Stopping eight fights,” Clint corrected and then finished off the sandwich. “Steve started them.”

That sure as hell sounded right.

Bucky snorted a laugh and shook his head.

Clint finished off the water and put the glass in the sink. He turned back to Bucky and reached out to tuck his fingers into the waist of Bucky’s pants and used that as leverage to pull him close.

“I mean it,” Clint said once he had his arms around Bucky’s back and their noses brushing together. “Luckiest guy in the world.”

Bucky kissed him, he had to.

“Second luckiest. I’m the guy who’s got you, after all.”

-o-

#winterhawk #clint/bucky #bucky/clint #mandatory fun day #clint barton #bucky barnes #modern au

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dalishious · 7 years

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@briannamorley Well I wasn’t going to respond to all your replies, but then I figured hell, if you felt the need to go through all my anti Celene shit to leave messages saying you disagreed, you must really value my opinion of your opinion, so who would I be not to?

briannamorley replied to your post “What ending should I take in WEWH? Last time I played I hadn't read...”

Love the page; disagree about Celine and Briala's relationship being toxic--save for her killing Bria's parents. I personally always reconcile them even if you weigh her over Gaspard, she's the lesser of two evils. Gaspard would do way more killing then a 1k elves plus, as far as the abuse we don't know the extent all Bria says is on days she was cruel, she imagined them being amongst the Dalish with Celine having to serve her.

So like... if having her parents murdered doesn’t cross a line for you into toxic territory, what does, then?

And re: “We don’t know the extent” of Celene’s treatment of Briala...

The black curls lightened to grey with the pre-dawn light, then slid to the light brown of cinnamon as the sun brought colour to the room. Dirt-brown, Celene had called it, when Briala had waited upon her as a girl. Horse-dung brown, an ugly shadow of Celene’s spun-gold locks. -pg 27

Briala, a WOC, grew up serving Celene, a white woman, comparing her hair to horse-dung. And had to just grin and bare it because that was her job, and her mother instructed her to be Celene’s friend.

“Maker, I envy you sometimes.” She knew immediately that she had said something wrong. She felt Briala stiffen, though her arms didn’t move, and Briala’s voice was light as she said, “The empress of Orlais envies an elven handmaid?” “You know what I mean, Bria.” Still holding her, Celene patted Briala’s back. “You could leave here, become someone else.” “As long as that someone is an elf,” Briala said with a dimpled smile, but Celene knew she was still hurt. “Yes, I know. But I... I was born to sit on that throne. I can’t do anything else. Since my parents and Lady Mantillon...” She trailed off. This time, Briala pulled away. “You would make a wonderful scholar,” she said as she stood and pulled her robe on, “at least until Emperor Gaspard made a decision you found objectionable. Then, I believe trouble would ensue.” She smiled over her shoulder. “You are probably right, my love.” Celene rose as well and pulled her own robe on, as if nothing were wrong. “And... I will consider Remache.” Briala nodded and slipped her mask into place, then left through the passage behind the mirror, and Celene sighed and fetched her little magical pot. She would be making her own tea this morning, it seemed. -pg 59

Celene hurts Briala, and her thought is how she’ll have to make her own tea.

Briala sat. “...The elves in Halamshiral are angry. Lord Mainserai killed a tradesman without justification, and the elves are calling for mien’harel.” At Celene’s silence, Briala added, “It is an elven word. When the humans go too far, the elves remind them that even a short blade must be respected. They—” “They will rebel,” Celene said, the words cutting through the chilly autumn air. “Against me. Now.” “It is not rebellion, Your Majesty.” Briala bowed her head and took a shaky breath, clutching at the griffon-head arm of her chair. This was exactly what she had feared. “The elves of Halamshiral have never seen you. Their grievance is with neither you nor Orlais. They only wish justice for a man of your empire who died without cause.” “What they wish is irrelevant.” Celene turned and stalked away from the window. “I am already fighting a war on two fronts. I cannot be seen to fight a war on three.” “Then don’t.” Briala rose, putting herself in Celene’s path. “Give them justice.” “A lord for the death of an elf? I... damn this thing.” With a quick jerk, Celene tore the mask from her face. Her face was flushed beneath, her eyes red from another night of little sleep. “Shall I declare the elves equal citizens before the Maker and the throne as well, while I’m at it?” “Why not?” Briala took her own mask off, stealing a quick moment to steady herself. “Unless you don’t believe that, and I’m just a jumped-up kitchen slut you haven’t tired of yet.” Celene turned away, tossing her mask onto an overstuffed couch and stalking to the great amber wall. “You know I cannot do that, Bria. I might as well engrave Gaspard’s initials on the throne.” Against the wall of gold and red, Briala’s empress and lover looked pale and wan. Celene had always seen sleep as an enemy, or at most a necessary evil, from what Briala could tell, and since the events in Kirkwall the stress of rising tensions had her awake before dawn almost every morning. If it were early enough, Briala could sometimes coax her into lovemaking, and the warm and drowsy bliss afterward would let Celene steal a few more hours of rest. Lately, even that had not been enough. Briala sighed. “I do know.” Instead of going to Celene, she went to the small table where Celene’s teapot sat, forever just shy of boiling. She poured Celene a cup of tea, brought it over, and gently touched Celene’s shoulder. It was not quite an apology. -pg 62

Briala fears having to ask Celene to enact justice. Celene says what the elves want is of no care to her. She then mocks the idea of elven freedoms. And “It was not quite an apology” my ass - Briala has nothing to apologize for.

What had happened at Halamshiral was a still-painful ache, but the elves had rebelled. Celene had done what she had to do. Had Briala been there, she might have been able to turn Celene to a different course, but Briala herself was the one who had left. It was not Celene’s fault that she had been manoeuvred into doing what she had done, any more than it was Briala’s fault for leaving Celene without the guidance she had wanted. -pg 167

Celene even has Briala convinced that she’s to blame for Halamshiral, because she wasn’t there to tell Celene otherwise. If one person in a relationship relies solely on another to guide their morals, yes, I would indeed call that toxic.

But anyway, these are just a few samples of Celene’s dismissive behaviour towards Briala. She only does the bare minimum to keep Briala at her side; she does not truly care about the elves.

briannamorley replied to your post “What ending should I take in WEWH? Last time I played I hadn't read...”

Also Bria has accepted that neither the city or Dalish elves see her as part of them; letting her rule with him as her mask--much like forcing them to work together--while interesting in theory, wouldn't last I don't think anyway. Ppl would get suspicious; Gaspard is a military strategist not an adept ruler

Briala goes from this:

Briala could not afford to spare tears for inevitable deaths. In that respect, she supposed that she was more like the nobles she served than the elves in the marketplace. The thought sometimes sickened her, but again, not as much as the thought of deaths she could have prevented. -pg 61

to this:

She had been in Celene’s court for too long. Too many years being called “rabbit,” too many years ducking her head and working from the shadows. Too many years of being proud of who she was, a feeling she could cling to like a floating log in a rushing river. It had kept her head above water, but it had never let her steer her own course. She would fight for her people, because nobody else would, and Fen’Harel take whoever got in her way. -pg 144

Briala’s whole character arc is about discovering who she is as her own person, and reconnecting with her people. Unless “has” was a typo for “had.”

Also, why is it unrealistic for Dalish and city elves to work together? Dalish elves go to the city, and city elves go to the Dalish all the time. In some cases you have clans that have very strong relationships with nearby alienages, such as Clan Boranehn and the Edgehall alienage in Knight Errant, for example.

briannamorley replied to your post “grandenchanterfiona: I don’t hate Celene because she’s a woman. I...”

Disagree not about the genocide or lying to Bria but everything else

...K?

briannamorley replied to your post “grandenchanterfiona: That’s it. Until proven otherwise the Masked...”

Nope to each their own though

...K?

briannamorley replied to your post “grandenchanterfiona: Celene is a straight guy’s idea of a lesbian....”

Stop... I can see if you were equating this to RR Martin but really???

Yes really lol

briannamorley replied to your post “I just read The Masked Empire and even though I knew how bad Celene...”

Theres disliking something and then there's bashing it to the point it becomes infuriating

Sorry guess we never received the guidelines one has to follow in terms of disliking something. Tell me, does it include going through a blog’s tags and leaving reply after reply that says basically the same thing?

briannamorley replied to your post “mllemaenad: jocelyntorrent: mllemaenad: … Okay, I don’t get it. ...”

Disagree but crazy tired so to each their own

Good thing you left another just plain ‘disagree,’ otherwise I might have gotten confused.

briannamorley replied to your post “So this by no means excuses Celene's actions whatsoever, but I noticed...”

Love orlais but again, to each their own

Cool cool I hate Orlais but to each their own. Perhaps I should find some random Orlais fan and spam their email notifications with replies saying as such, to make sure they know!

briannamorley replied to your post “lmao no, about 300 elves were brutally slaughtered, sweet summer...”

More than 300 but it does border on bashing

WTF does this one even mean?

briannamorley replied to your post “grandenchanterfiona: Celene has absolute power; she does not have a...”

If so say that from jump don't go on and on going from legitimate gripe to bashing... like damn I like both of y'alls pages but FUCK me this is exhausting

Then why are you reading through all this? And seriously, what is with this “bashing?” Is there some kind of internet slang I’m unfamiliar with? Because if you just mean bashing as in criticism that hell fucking yes I am critical of Celene. She has a lot of reasons for me to be.

briannamorley replied to your post “Remember that time when Michel de Chevin partook in the Academie des...”

Sigh... y es it was an oversight by them that shouldn't have happened but goddamn

“But goddamn...” what? Why is there a but? Why is there a but goddamn? Just... why, period?

Anyway, TL;DR:

#briannamorley #anti celene #anti brialene

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likelovelikesuicide · 7 years

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Shadowhunters - Hiatus week rant

Shadowhunters is on hiatus this week because ‘merica... so I give you another rant because I prefer to dwell on this show week after week over dealing with real life...

I would like to start by saying that my opinions, as presented, are in no way a reflection on the writers, actors, or anyone else affiliated with the show. I am here solely for the characters, the stories and while I understand that real people control what happens behind the scenes, I know that no single person is to blame for any of the issues I’m pointing out here and also, I reject reality. Life has a fucked up plot on it’s own, so whatever...

1. Let’s begin with the elephant in the room, the scene that caused the most issue since s2 began - Magnus and Alec in 2.07 - Let me begin by saying that I actually like and enjoy the “first time” scene in the context of their relationship and I think the consent issue was a misunderstanding on the part of the audience. In this scene, Alec goes to his boyfriend, hopeful and intent on moving forward within their relationship by spending a night together (& doing some lovin’) … Magnus, rightfully given his past, expresses his concerns with moving too fast because he has serious feelings for Alec and he doesn't just want sex from this. Alec, being the straight forward guy that he is, tells Magnus that he has nothing to worry about because he, Alec, wants this too. This meaning them, being together. He's not saying he wants sex. He's saying he wants to be with Magnus. - this. Us. - The scene fits their story and so much of the dialogue is context within their overall arc. _ However, the issue with the scene is in how it was framed in the episode. Earlier on we see Magnus and Alec stop a kiss because Jace is making noise with a girl somewhere in their home. Then we see an extended scene of Jace with the girl, being naked, intimate, and frankly vulgar on screen. Especially when Alec enters the room and the random topless girl comes onto him in his boyfriend’s home where Jace is a guest. It made Jace look cheap and disrespectful, and it sets the mood for a “first time" scene that was sent off screen without so much as a raised shirt. From the writer's perspective, I think they wanted to show a contrast of lust vs. love but it didn't work at all and from the LGBT perspective, what was shown made it look like they’re trying to keep us behind closed doors. And fuck that. ---This was also demonstrated in 2.13 when Alec and Magnus’ make-up kiss is panned off screen to show Maia lick Jace’s abs for no reason whatsoever and it needs to stop. Either stop showing it or show it for everyone. They aren't filming Malec in the same way they film the other couples. And they know it. Cut the crap.

there’s more but I’ll but it under a read more to safe your dash

2. Timeline. Tone. Episode themes. These things are needed to maintain a story, and right now they are truly all over the place - I mean, has it been a month since S2 started? Six months? A week? A year? We don't know. (season 1 was a month fight me on this) The impossible timelines make watching the episodes jarring in a way that is not entertaining, it’s uncomfortable. (Ref. Glee s4/s5. All of LOST, teen wolf, etc.) Overall this is an issue of pacing in scenes between the various pairings...Raphael and Izzy got a 5 minute scene of them cooking and sharing blood that could have been done in a forth of that time, plus several scenes that actually should be talked about regarding the consent issue… Magnus and Alec got the build up… ish… now they get a minute here, a kiss there. Their time together is implied, referenced... their love established through time spent together off screen - Izzy and Sebastian got full scenes of them just talking for the sake of talking and cementing his creep factor… Clary and Simon have multiple, full scenes in a single episodes to display their feelings, support each other and be together publicly as well as separate scenes and stories going on throughout their doomed relationship.… Jace and Simon spent an entire episode messing with each other in a bar for shits and giggles… Maia and Jace banter, Maia and Simon flirt, Izzy and Simon do mean things together while being really nice about it, Raphael and Simon bicker and try to hurt each other like school children on a playdate… Luke and Simon share war stories… (Honestly what I’m getting from this is everyone wants time with Simon, including the writers… which I get… poor Simon...and okay you got my point, there is no balance. I’ll stop now)

3. Alright look, I didn’t read the books and I’m never going to, but I think in some ways the show is written around the idea that you have read the books - thus you know who random people are (Jace’s seelie bitch, Lydia, Imogene, Ragnor, Catirina, etc.) But like, they don’t follow the books, at all. I mean I started the first book and before I returned it to the library because god, no - I read far enough to know that Dot is like, an old lady or something. And the books start when Clary is 16... My point being, they use the story, the world, the ideas without following the books and that’s fine, except like, I don’t know nor do I care who the Herondale’s are so why give Jace this big reunion with grandma (crazy bitch) Imogene scene when there was NO context for it. Also, if I had read the books, as in the case of Harry Potter or Twilight (ya i read it, i loved it. Fight me, New Moon is a great book) I would want to see the books on screen as they were in print because that’s all anyone ever wants when they find out a series they read and liked is being made into a movie or tv show. They want the book, the characters, the scenes, the world translated to screen as they imagined it…. So I get it. sorry book stan’s. Also, is Aldertree always a total douche?

4. So… The show started with Clary and she is presented as a strong female protagonist - physically she is equal to the most elite in her race without proper training, she has special abilities specific to her, but she is headstrong to a fault. She is flighty and rarely listens to advice or reason, therefore she is easily led into traps that harm not only her, but the people around her (didn’t Magnus call Jocelyn out for something like this) … I won’t deny that Clary cares for other people... however, she is an 18 (?) year old and pretty much everyone is blinded by their emotions at that age, her faults are relatable. What I need for Clary is her to remember who she was. She grew up a mundane, she lost her mother... Twice. She wanted to be an artist, she was happy and looking forward to her future. When the show started she was a girl with a plan for her life and okay, maybe art school won’t work… but why can’t she make a name for herself in the institute? In Idris? Why is her story so focused on the men around her? Simon? Jace? Sebastian? This series of love triangles don't interest me at all… How about Clary testifying against her father, Valentine, at a Clave trail and burying his ass? How about Clary supporting Izzy as she rebuilds her strength and realizing first that something's up with this Sebastian dude? How about Clary getting back into her art and learning to control her new skill through her mundane ability? How about Clary understanding that Alec has earned and deserves to be Head of the Institute and refusing to undercut his authority because she respects him?

5. How about Jace doing the same… because Alec is his parabati and that still means something… actually how about Jace takes a nap for an episode cause I don't see another way he's going to keep himself out of trouble and/or keep it in his pants.

6. The continued implications of incest have been unnecessary from the start... I get that it's a theme in the books and that's on the original writer... but in the show it doesn't follow that no one thought to run a DNA test on Clary and Jace in s1? Really? No One? Izzy? … and in a warrior/soldier society like the Shadowhunters, regular blood tests would be mandatory anyway… (which also would have eliminated the whole yin fen issue for Izzy, just saying) But now, of course we have Sebastian, and I know enough about the story to know that he is the real Jonathan Morgenstern and I hope Clary figures that out on the show before any actual implied incest occurs because that shit will cause the show the be cancelled and condemned. Straight up.

7. Okay, going back to 2a for a moment, can we talk about the whole thing where Valentine captured an Angel?? Like a real Angel? Like a straight up ANGEL? Shouldn’t that be a big deal? Or at least A moment of concern for the Clave? Doesn’t anyone else want to know HOW HE CAPTURED AN ANGEL??? - sure the mortal cup is out there (*cough* Sebastian has it *Cough*) But if no one has so much as seen an Angel in living memory, isn’t it kind of like a hugely dangerous wtf thing that Valentine can capture one??? (I’m sorry this story was so swept under the rug and like, I actually want to KNOW)

8. I think we can all agree that the lighting department is run by vampires and maybe Simon should take over that job on the Malec scenes in particular because LET THERE BE LIGHT PEOPLE

9. Editing seems to be an issue overall - with pacing or scenes cutting abruptly off and I’m sorry but there was a moment in 2.13 where I could have sworn I was watching Criminal Minds and look Shadowhunters air’s on an american family channel at 7pm on Mondays (without parental warnings)… let's leave the gore and raunchy hook ups to the 10pm shows, please. There are children present… also, small additions or subtractions make a world of difference - imagine for a moment that instead of Alec entering Magnus’ loft in 2.13 after the fight and saying “you were right, you never have to prove yourself to me… I love you” - Alec had instead said something like “you were right, you should never have to prove yourself to my bosses. I’m sorry. I love you.” and given back the envelope with the hair in it??? How much more meaningful would that have been. Especially given that Alec was now Head of the Institute - it would show he trusts his boyfriend. It would set up his alliance with the downworld, thus introducing the plot for the next episode… it would have shown Alec’s respect for his partner over what the Clave expects of those they call downworlders… sorry I’m done.

10. What is the overall plot to season 2??? Is it all focused around the war with Valentine? Season 1 was obviously meant to follow Clary as she searched for her mother and shit went down around her… however, season 2 has branched out from that, allowing several other key characters more focus and next week we will hit the final stretch. 6 weeks to build up to another inevitable cliff hanger because they already have a third season and this is when you do that shit. But what will it be? As I said, I didn't read the books, so I only have vague references to the possibilities... but I hope we'll all be able to enjoy the remainder of the summer season before counting down the days till season 3.

#Shadowhunters #shadowhunters 2b #Shadowhunters 2a #Magnus Bane #Alec Lightwood #Malec #clary fairchild #jace herondale #Simon Lewis #clace #climon #sh spoilers #rant #by di

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writingrosesandcoffee · 7 years

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The Princess and the Wizard (Part 2)

Title: The Princess and the Wizard Author: Nesma A/N: Still writing. Disclaimer: I own nothing.

-&-

"So, how was our walking date?" Petunia asked as she walked into my bedroom. Immediately kicking off her black ballet flats, dropping her tan leather bag on the floor along with her black jacket, before throwing herself on my bed.

"It was good. We read you spent a lot of time getting the books and food items that you forgot to bring." I said, putting my book down and uncurling myself in the arm chair nearest my bed. "I also got to know one of the newest security members of my team," I said, wiggling my eyebrows a bit at Petunia.

"Oh yeah? Which one? The one with the long black hair? He's quite fit." Petunia said, perking up in my bed. She rested her head on her hands as she stared at me with excitement.

I snorted. "No, that's Sirius by the way. I got to know James, the one with the messy black hair-"

"Oh. That one?" Petunia asked, her face immediately scrunching up into a look of disgust. Which, I took offence too. So, Petunia and I did not share the same views as far as attractive men but James was certainly attractive.

I mean, first, he looked like he was in shape. Though he was wearing a jacket, it did seem that he had toned arms and his shirt did fit him quite nicely. Then, there is jet black hair and hazel eyes. Nothing makes me swoon as much as the combination of dark haired men with light eyes. Always a combination that I am fascinated with (and I tend to go after those guys considering my dating history). Then, there is the small detail that James has dimples. Cute little dimples that would make any girl want to grab his face and litter it with small little kisses. Because dimples are dimples.

Of course, would I even dare share all of these thoughts with Petunia? Of course not. The girl is actually attracted to someone who looks like he is a human bull of some sort (very large, though Petunia claims he's strong). He has basically no neck (which I guess means opposites attract since Petunia has double the neck). And, he has blonde hair and brown eyes – actually, this part isn't terrible. But he's always so serious and plain and no jokes whatsoever.

"I think James looks nice. To each their own after all." I said calmly. Which, I thought was a much more diplomatic line rather than saying, 'I think James is much fitter than Vernon so there.'

"Whatever. Is he like Kingsley with a million and one degrees?" Petunia asked, rolling onto her back and staring up at my canopy.

"Actually… I'm not sure. I know James went to school with Kingsley at some point but it is unclear when that happened." I said, twisting my strand of hair as I tried hard to remember if James said anything about his past.

"Mysterious background. That's probably why you think he's fit." Petunia said suggestively.

"I don't think he's fit, well, not like that at least," I mumbled, standing up and walking towards my desk. I started to shuffle some papers around, even though no organisation was really needed as a slight blush started to creep on my face.

"Oh come on, please tell me that you've moved on from Robert," Petunia said movements could be heard in her direction as I turned around to face her. "He was honestly such a bore and a jerk." Petunia said, crossing her arms.

I rolled my eyes at her. "I know. I dated the bloke, remember? Believe me, there is nothing that makes me want to date him." I said with a sense of finality as I shoved some random pieces of paper into a drawer.

And I was telling the truth. After all, I had no interest in really seeing Robert. Though, that was impossible since he did go to a majority of the social events that my family does. You see, Robert is a fine guy. He's attractive, at least to me, and I can have a good time with him. We like to talk about History a lot. But, he has this streak of arrogance that makes him so unappealing. And this nasty quality in which he could only talk about himself. Which meant the relationship ended rather swiftly (four months). Which was a record for my shortest relationship, while my longest was for a year or so.

"Good. Just making sure." Petunia said as she stood up from my bed. "I suppose I better make an appearance in front of my own security team. Let them know I am alive and all." She said, sweeping her hair over her shoulder as she collected her items.

"I'll walk with you. I need to pick some things up in your room anyways." I said, standing up and walking with Petunia on her side as we left my room. Though, nearly immediately after ten seconds that we left the room, James was at my side.

"Do you mind if I talk to you miss? For a moment?" James said, fretting a bit as my sister gave him a once over glance. Giving Petunia a small smile, and a pat on her shoulder, she waltzed off.

"Of course, what would you like to talk about?" I asked, putting my hands behind my back as James' hand went through his hair.

"I wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier, it was quite impolite and disgusting how I talked you-" James said quickly, his breaths coming in short.

"Ah, so you realised your walkie talkie transmitted sound both ways?" I said innocently, smiling at him as his hand dropped from his hair and his jaw went slacked. Chuckling to myself, I put out my hand.

"Can I see your walkie?" I said, and James gave me a suspicious look as he started to fumble with the electronic on his belt. I don't blame the guy, I did after all, perhaps, land him in some serious trouble with Kingsley.

After thrusting the small black box in my hand, I peered at the side and flipped a switch before handing it back to him.

"There. Now you can hear what's going on from their end, but they won't be able to hear us so you can speak candidly." I said and James took the device from my hand and peered at his closely. "How do I know I can trust you?" He asked, putting the device back into his belt holder.

"Well, the fact that I did just show you a nifty trick on your device should soothe you soul." I said sweetly, tilting my head as James' eyebrows raised.

"Yes, but you nearly got me fired-" He said, cooly. I rolled my eyes at such an atrociously false comment.

"No. I didn't." I said quietly, fixing my eyes on him. He took a step back as if he was aware of what I was going to say next. "You nearly got yourself fired." Jabbing my finger at his chest as he stared down at it dumbly. "It is hardly my fault that you were so bold, so arrogant as to think that you could talk to me like that without turning off your walkie." I said roughly because I had an entire country blaming me (well, my family) for the poor state of affairs in this country.

Adding James Potter to the mix? No, thank you.

"Besides," I said quickly, flipping my hair to the side as I crossed my arms, "I hardly doubt that Kingsley would ever fire you-"

"We are talking about the same Kingsley, right? Big man, huge muscles? Looks like he eats ten of me for a snack?" James asked in a panic way, exaggerating his body measurements as I laughed as his impressions.

"Yes, yes we are. But I still stand by what I said, he won't fire you in a million years." I said simply.

"What makes you so sure?" James asked hotly, crossing his arms over his chest as I leant back on the wall behind me with his eyes squinting down on me.

"Well, for starters, you don't have the exact military or educational requirements that Kingsley desires in his security team. Nor do you seem to have the personality type that Kingsley wants in his security team." I stated as James face's eyes went wide, as his arms went slightly slack as if I had punched him in the stomach.

I was never one to shield from the truth.

"But," I lowered my voice a bit for this, causing James to lean in a bit, "But-you clearly possess something that impresses Kingsley. And that's not a small feat." I said kindly, grinning at him as a hard-line set in on his face.

"Really? Because I pissed him off twice today. Once for when you stumbled on me and I acted like a complete fool and the second because I talked to you in an improper way." James gave a sigh as he shifted his weight, his hand going to his hair again. "I feel completely out of my element here and I'm starting to realise that the learning curve is quite steep. And I probably shouldn't be saying any of these things to you. I mean, I know how to protect you and I have gone through the training necessary for this job… it's just the politics I'm struggling." James said, running a hand through his hair again as he took a few steps away from me.

I frowned a bit at this. It's not that anything he said worried me, after all, I did completely trust Kingsley choices. It's just… how often does someone grow up in England without knowing any real knowledge of the royal family? With the number of products out there with my face and the news coverage of our every movement… there have only been a few people who I've met who were completely oblivious to my status. But they recognised my name. And James? It seemed like he had no idea the power of the Evans name.

"You're doing fine. Besides, I thought it was part of training to learn the history of our family and politics?" I ventured, and James froze for a second-his hand back in his hair and his glasses almost tittering off of his nose.

"Yes. Usually, that is part of training, but Kingsley was very eager to have us join the team. Something about us having dashing good looks if I recall correctly." James said, his shoulders relaxing as he gave me a red carpet smile.

And usually, because of the dimples, I would have been swayed with such a smile and laugh, maybe even placing a well-thought hand on his shoulder. However, that is not at all what I did. I went back to leaning against the wall and stared down at the floor thoughtfully. After all, why was their training compromised? What was so important to have them join the team that Kingsley threw the training manual out the window?

After a few seconds, I brought my gaze up and gave James a wide smile, the photo-ready smile. And with the smile finally reaching his eyes, it was clear that he bought my confidence. "Huh, interesting theory. But I do suspect that he hired you because of your skill, you're not that pretty." I said, giving him my own wink as he chuckled along.

"Right. Well, I do apologise for any inconvenience… I'll behave better in the future."

"There's no need to though." I said and James stopped in his tracks as he gave me another wide-eyed look, his jaw slightly slacked. "I mean, uh, well, not as it may imply… but I shockingly like talking to you. I wouldn't mind a few rounds of conversations with you." I said bluntly, my cheeks heating up and praying to God that it was the cute pink cheeks versus the flaming fire that splashed across my face.

James gave me a smile, one with dimples. "Consider it done." He said, giving me a small wink as he sauntered off, his hands went to the walkie talkie and a switch was turned on. My heart thumped a bit more than usual, but then again, perhaps that wasn't so strange.

-&-

"Right, what do we have for the next few weeks?" I asked, as I finally plummeted to bed that night. My lazy pyjamas were on, too big and worn far too often, while Petunia sat like an angelic faerie at the end of my bed.

She raised her eyebrows, "Do you mean as far as social events this coming month? Or as far as dates with Vernon?" She asked, pulling a strand behind her ear.

"Both." I said, lying back on my pillows as a small, secretive smile spread across her face. Which would mean that we would be discussing her calendar with Vernon first.

"Well, for the next two days, there is nothing so we can actually work out together. But then, on Thursday, we're hoping to get another walk in so we'll be 'reading' outside again-"

"Lovely." I murmured, as I fiddled with the bed spread in front of me, trying not to fall asleep at the utter boredom of my sister's love life. Petunia simply ignored my moody tone as she continued to ramble on about her calendar.

"Then, this week is a mad house at all the events we have to be at, where the only thing we need to do is just be there. Oh, and we have an interview coming up in a few weeks-"

"Oh, gosh, I'm so good at those." I said, giving a sigh as Petunia gave me a hard look, "We'll practice this time. Extra hard, I promise."

"Okay, then what?" I asked, as Petunia put a hand to her chin as a look of concentration washed over her.

"Oh – we do have a meeting the Malfoy family." She said and I gave her a look of confusion. Because, first, what kind of name is Malfoy? There are, admittedly, a lot of odd names in this country. Though, I had never heard of a Malfoy. And if they were meeting us, that must mean that they were extremely well connected. And I had no memory of ever meeting a family named the Malfoy.

"I know. I didn't know them either, and I couldn't find out too much about them when I tried to research them. They must be relatively new on the social scene. Kinda surprised that they were able to get a meeting with us though so soon." Petunia said as she shrugged her shoulders as I scrunched up my face.

"When are we meeting with them?" I asked, putting my own hair up in a pony tail.

"At the start of next month, so four weeks or so." Petunia said as she leant back on the bed post.

"Odd. Alright, do we need to prepare anything?"

"I think it's just a formality? Like, congratulations for unlocking level royalty in the social networking of England, please collect your prize of meeting the princesses." Petunia said in a sarcastic tone and I threw my head back to laugh.

"Well, I do say we are an amazing prize." I said between my laugh as Petunia rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, well, we'll see how it goes. Oh, what did that James bloke want with you?" Petunia asked, her head snapping up to monitor my gaze.

I bit my lip as I twirled a strand of my hair. "Oh, he just wanted to apologise… again for his behaviour today. He may have crossed a line. I can't tell yet." I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"Did he? What did he say?" Petunia asked, pressing in and I could hardly find the need to tell her the odd conversations of the day.

"Nothing terrible. Only Kingsley would find them scandalous for my pure ears-"

Petunia snorted and I grabbed the nearest pillow and chucked at her head. Luckily for her, since pillows as weapons can be quite deadly, it missed her by a mile. "Oy. That's not a very nice thing to insinuate about the youngest princess."

"I know, but can you imagine how they would react if they knew our lives? Our dating lives especially?" She asked, trying to resist to grin as I laughed and rolled my eyes.

"I'm sure they know some of it…. Hopefully not all of it." I said, as I grabbed a pillow and hugged it to my chest. Petunia shrugged as she hopped off the bed.

"Hopefully Kingsley won't be too harsh on him, looked like he was a kicked puppy or something." She said, over her shoulder as she opened the door and slipped out.

For James' sake, I truly hoped his punishment wasn't severe.

-&-

But I had no time to discover how James was reacting to his new role or punishment.

"What is going on?" Petunia whispered frantically in my ear as our car arrived at the hospital that we had to make a visit at.

I looked out at the window. As usual, there were large crowds pushing back against the officials that had been station there. There was lots of yelling, some had signs painted in multiple colours that splashed how much they loved us. There were grinning faces, sobbing faces, and shocked faces. These were the faces I was used to at an event like this.

But a number of the people looked angry. Furious even as they brandished their hateful signs, faces turning a deep red, and I could hear their voices so clearly that I know that they'd be whispering hoarse in a few hours. Eyes were bulging out as I skimmed the signs - mostly declaring justice for the Prewett.

"Angry. Clearly, over the Prewett murder." I muttered, smoothing down my skirt, my hands trembling slightly as I took a quick glance out the window.

"Who?" Petunia asked, her head swivelling around her neck as she tried to read the signs as I heaved a sigh.

"The Prewett. One out of the latest families that have been murdered behind homes that appeared to be locked. It is as if they murdered themselves but… nothing really points to that. The case… it's gruesome." I said, feeling my stomach twist and turn as Petunia gazed thoughtfully out the window, her lips parted slightly as her eyes scanned the crowds.

In honesty, the Prewett murders were one that shook me to my bones. It was a case in which when the police had arrive, everyone was dead. Everyone had a look of absolute horror and pain on their faces. Their bodies had suffered massive internal organ failure before their heart gave out. To put the body under that much stress… it is cruel, to say the least. And if there is someone or something out large, people have the full right to demand that someone steps in to over see it all.

And thus, when got out of the car, we were nearly mobbed by those fighting for the Prewett's right to life.

-&-

The next few days was complete insanity. It was one of those weeks when it was difficult to tell when the day started and when it ended. I had to spend every night with my sister picking out appropriate outfits for the next day. Researching what the tabloids had written about us. Seeing if there were any unflattering photos of us or if there was another essay about our fashion sense.

I was constantly being shoved out in front of cheering crowds, crumbling buildings, newly built buildings, and strictly quiet political settings. It was all completely tiring, that by the middle of the following week, I was looking forward to the solitary walk that I would have with my books as Petunia slipped out to Vernon.

Despite eagerly setting out the blanket and pulling out my books and such, did I notice that Sirius Black was standing nearby at a tree. A nagging worry was tugging within, and I resisted the urge to throw my cares away with an open of a book. Standing up and wiping the debris off of my dress, I wondered over to Sirius who made it a mission not to look at me per say.

"Kingsley didn't give him too much hell?" I asked, crossing my arms as I shifted my weight around as Sirius coughed.

"I don't care if Kingsley or the others can hear this conversation. If you're worried, you can shut it off. I know your mate must have shown you how to turn it off." I said stiffly, as Sirius gave a huge sigh and tugged at the device and flipping the switch.

"Happy?" He asked as he tucked it back into his belt. I staggered a bit as I wasn't used to facing annoyed security guards as he clearly was.

"You didn't answer my question-"

"No, he didn't get into too much trouble. Just extra studying time, how to treat princesses and such." Sirius said sternly, refusing to meet my eyes.

Oh, wonderful. Those manuals are so poorly written (they are updated so often that it's very confusing of how to keep up on them). Also, all the images in there of Petunia and I are very obviously retouched. Like, glaringly retouched and laughable. Then, the cartoons in there are priceless. This isn't too bad of a punishment, James is probably laughing is head off.

"Oh, that's not too bad. Those manuals are dry but hopefully Kingsley will let up on you two."

"Excuse me, but I actually knew how to respond to you when I first met you. I also didn't turn into some blubbering goon-" Sirius rambled as I laughed, cutting him off.

"Oh, stop being so harsh on him, he was nervous." I said, dropping my arms to the side as Sirius eyed me.

"I know he was, he's just a little out of his element. Not used to the whole royalty thing. Lived under this pitiful rock with hermits as parents." Sirius said with wagging eyebrows, causing me to laugh again.

"I mean, I think he'll do fine. Just as long as he stays out of Kingsley's way." I said, before frowning, "Well, actually, if both of you will. Didn't you both get in trouble at school a lot? And probably from Kingsley thanks to his Head Boy duties?" And Sirius smirked as he tossed his long hair back.

"Well, James always relied on my wits and charms to get us out of trouble. They tended to work 100% better on the Head Girl rather than on Kingsley…" Sirius trailed off with a wink and I giggled to myself.

"I can't even imagine someone trying to flirt their way out of trouble with Kingsley." I said, grinning at the thought. The man was always so serious, always so strict, and I doubt that the man ever broke a rule in his life.

"Oh, many tried and many failed." Sirius said wistfully, staring off into the sky as I laughed.

"I have to say, glad that you two still have your job. Though, I'm sure you'd have more fun doing something else. I lead… well, apart from the crazy mobs that want to attack and kiss me, a quiet life." I said, and Sirius grinned.

"The crowds were a little out of control. Especially at the event early this week." He said, his face darkening a bit as I heaved a sigh.

"Well, what could we expect? There was a protest not too far from us about the recent murders. Especially with the Fabian and Gideon Prewett being murdered-"

"You heard about that?" Sirius asked incredulously, his face that was smiles moments ago harden, looking more menacing than welcoming.

I sniffed angrily as I rolled my eyes. It appeared that the only appropriate response to the Prewett murder was to be blissfully unaware as my older sister. Batting my eyes and expressing my deepest sympathies as furious citizens yell for investigation and then casually forgetting the brutality hours later.

Lord forbid that I would know what's actually affecting the country.

"Of course I did. It was all over the news-" I snapped, crossing my arms as I stared at Sirius' bewildered and darkened face; his eyebrows drawn down as his eyes focused solely on mine.

"Your news-" He muttered, glancing slightly to the left before, for the briefest of seconds, flashing an angry look with his lips snarled back, before resuming his brooding look.

"What do you mean my news?" I asked quietly as Sirius' eyes shifted a bit as he shook his head, gritting his teeth. "Sorry, I… I know that not all of the murders were getting the lime light of being written about. I guess I was surprised that you bothered to learn names. I… I'm sorry." Sirius stammered as I gave him an odd glance as he stared directly at the ground, heaving slightly.

"Yeah, well, it's horrible. Twins too, right?" I asked as Sirius stared off into the distance and nodded. His hands were clasped in the front and his shoulders were tense.

"Right, well, not exactly shocking then that the public is angry." I said, trying to shift the topic of the conversation onto something else.

"Yeah, but it's obviously not your fault. Those people are morons." Sirius said bitterly kicking at the ground a bit.

"I suppose. Oh well, have any fun plans tonight after you're done here?" I asked, crossing my arms again as Sirius took a deep breath.

"I have a meeting tonight with James and Kingsley, some security stuff. Maybe go to a pub and grab a drink or two. It's been a long week to be fair." Sirius said, heaving a sigh.

"Drink extra for me, will ya?" I asked, and Sirius grinned.

"Now, that's something that I would never deny." He said and I laughed a bit.

"Say hi to James from me?" I asked, and Sirius gave a small grin. "Of course." He said as I walked back to my blankets and book. I spent the rest of the afternoon reading, focusing on the words and not on the bloodshed taking place in the world.

-&-

Three days later, on another walking date with Petunia, James was the assigned security guard. I gave him a small wave as I set up the blanket and books. Though, it was only a matter of time before I heard the crunching of leaves as James stood at the edge of the blanket.

"I thought I'd tell you hi back." He said, and I looked up at him, shielding my eyes as I stared up at him.

"Excuse me?" I asked as James crouched down.

"Well, you told Sirius to tell me that you said hi. So, I'm saying it back. Hello." He said, grinning as I laughed at his awkward antics. James took this as an invitation to fully sit on my blanket and something in my heart swelled when he did.

"Did you turn it off?" I asked, pointing to the walkie talkie as James nodded, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"I did. I am learning rather quickly." James said as I bit my lip.

"How did your meeting go from a few nights ago?" I asked, and snuck a glance at James who wore an expression of shock on his face.

"How did you know about that?"

"Magic. Duh." I said, laughing at my own hilarious joke; though I was the only one since James merely chuckled along before giving me an expectant look.

"Right, well, Sirius told me. It's not top secret now, is it? It's just between you two and Kingsley." I said and James heaved a sigh.

"Something like that. We had others come in, helping with training and such." James said gruffly as he started to pull a bit at the grass.

"Were you two able to go out afterwards? Grab a drink or something? It has been a few hectic days on the job I assume." I said and James laughed a bit.

"Yeah, we did. We couldn't stay very long, though, Sirius did make an utter fool of himself in front of the bartender." James said, grinning at the memory.

I smiled a bit as I leant back on my hands. "Oh yeah? What happened?" I asked as James messed up his hair, a grin forming on his face with my favourite dimples.

"Well, we already had a bit to drink but right before we left, he went straight up to the bartender and told him, 'I need to have an extra drink – it's for Princess Lily. I need to drink extra for her.'" And I started to roar with laughter. After all, how many people drink because of me?

"That sounds great." I said after I gained control of my happiness as James smiled at me.

"It was, the bartender thought he was full of shit of course. I mean, part of our job is never disclosing that we're in fact part of your security team. As I'm sure you know." And nodded, thinking that this was a little extreme but Kingsley, as usually, disagreed.

"Sounds nice." I said, grabbing a book and gripping it closely to my lap as James eyed it.

"Still Jane Austen?" He asked and I nodded, and a proud look spread on James' face.

"You know, I looked it up after you were reading it. She seems to have written a lot of books." He said as if that was supposed to impress me.

I mean, it's Jane Austen. Of course, she's written lots of books! I mean, dear lord, where did this boy go to school if he thought that Jane Austen was this obscure author?

"Uh, yes, I take it you've never read any of her books? Have you seen the films?"

James blinked rapidly, "Uh, there are films? Of her books?" And burst out laughing, placing a hand on his shoulder as I continued to laugh hysterically.

"I'm guessing your parents never really let you watch television or go to the cinemas?" I asked, taking my hand back and wiping my eyes as James eyed the place my hand was previously.

"Well, yeah, of course. I mean, I know what films and cinemas are. Please." James said, scoffing and pretending to look deeply offended as I rolled my eyes.

"I know you do. Otherwise, I'm not sure how you would be functioning in this world here. But yes, Jane Austen is rather famous. Many films have been made based on her stories. I quite like Emma and Pride and Prejudice but that's just me." I said, rambling a bit as James eyed me from the corner of his eyes.

"Perhaps I'll pick up a copy of the books. Or maybe just watch the movie and dazzle you with my knowledge." He said, swiping a hand through his hair as I scoffed and laughed at him. Unsure of how to really respond.

With the other blokes… well, neither of them picked up a Jane Austen novel unless it was required for their literature lessons. And all of them would pick it apart and constantly remind me that she essentially wrote 'chick novels' for her generation and why would we even bother to give her the time of day? This was usually when I would close my eyes, count to ten and try very hard not to shout at them until my throat went hoarse.

But James didn't seem to mind of what Jane Austen wrote. To be fair, it sounded as if he had no idea who Jane Austen was which… well, I had never met someone who didn't have the faintest idea of her.

"Perhaps. We'll see, though." Giving him a small grin before opening my book, James took the hint and stood up. Wiping debris off his pants before taking station further away from me.

I found it rather hard to concentrate on the Bennet sisters that afternoon.

-&-

The next two afternoons, Petunia and I went to the gym for our workouts (considering we had an interview coming up, we thought it would be best to look slightly toned so that when we get the dreaded body question we could at least answer it somewhat truthfully). However, after two gym sessions, we decided a break was in order and Petunia went to visit her boyfriend and I spent my afternoon with my books.

Of course, James was on duty this afternoon. As soon as I settled onto my blankets, I found that his shadow was overcasting me as he stood on the edge; waiting for me to invite him to sit down.

"So, I'm part way through Pride and Prejudice." He stated, crouching down and settling on the edge of the blanket after I gestured for him to sit.

He did what?

"You… you're in the mist of reading Pride and Prejudice?" I asked in a disbelieving way as James chuckled.

"Don't sound too surprised. You're hurting my feelings over here." He said, giving me his puppy eyes. I bit my lip as I averted my gaze.

"I'm sorry, you just don't seem the type to read Pride and Prejudice." I said, blushing a bit.

"No, you're right. I normally wouldn't read Pride and Prejudice but Jane Austen is one of our greatest national treasure. And, I really should start reading the classics more, and what better way to start than with Pride and Prejudice?" He asked, leaning back on his hands as he stared up at the sky.

"What part are you at?"

"I'm a slow reader and the language took a little getting used to for me… but I'm at the part where they're at the ball." He said sheepishly.

"That's not bad at all considering you just started reading it."

"I know, but I'm hardly as fast as you are." He said, gesturing to my stack of books. I blushed and laughed a bit.

"It's different, I'm rereading some books. And I can never decide what to read-"

"Just like your sister, who, I've noticed has never joined you on these walks despite what her schedule states." James said, giving me this irritatingly knowing look: a smirk on his face, eyebrows raised, and his eyes full of mirth as I scrambled in my own head for a clever lie.

"Well, you see, Petunia can be sensitive to the chemicals they use for the grass-"

"You have a blanket-"

"Yes, but, she needs to have her medicine just in case. And sometimes, she'll take the medicine inside, making her drowsy? Right, and so she'll fall asleep right then and there." I said, feeling my face heat up as James locked eyes me, squinting a bit as if he was trying to see if I was lying. And then, his face relaxed and he shrugged as his hand went over to the walkie talkie. And pulled it out of his belt loop.

Oh no.

I could feel myself panicking as James gave me a grin before pressing a button and bringing the device close to his lips. "Princess Petunia is in her room, copy that, please send a confirmation once you've laid a visual-"

"She's not in her room!" I blurted, reaching over and trying to tug at his hands to release the walkie talkie (and only for the walkie talkie, it's not as if I wanted to feel the callouses on his fingers or anything). Yet, he tightened his grip as my fingers were nestled within his.

"Oh, she's not?" James asked innocently. "Where is she then?"

I bit my lip as I eyed our hands. They did look nice together. "Sometimes, she takes her medications in the hall way so she literally falls asleep on her feet. In the middle of a hallway." I said quickly, and realising that it was the dumbest lie that could have ever flown out of my mouth.

"Alright then, I'll just send some people over-"

"Why don't I help? I can search the hallways for her and then just alert the nearest guard when I find her-" I said quickly, standing up as James buried his face into his hands.

"Merlin-I mean, oh my god Lily, are you that stubborn?" He asked, laughing a bit into his hands as I stared down at him.

"What do you-"

"We all know that she's snogging Vernon Dursley senseless right about now. In fact, we can give you coordinates." James said, lifting his head out of his hands as my jaw dropped to hit the floor.

"For how long?" I demanded, putting my hands on my hips as James started to chuckle.

"Since the start of their romance. Do you really think that there is anything in here that happens without Kingsley's knowledge?"

"Obviously I did if I told you my sister falls asleep in the middle of the hallway." I sputtered, as I buried my own face in my hands as I started to blush a wonderful crimson colour.

"It's quite amazing the lies you told. I can't believe you slept in her bed that one time-"

"You were hired after that!" I spluttered out, taking my face out of my hands as James gave me a guilty look.

"Sorry love, the other blokes were talking about it. Couldn't help but overhear."

"Ugh. Well, that's great." I muttered, plopping myself down and rolling onto my stomach as I hid my face in my arms. James laughed and put a hand on my shoulder.

"It's fine. It's funny and it shows that you're loyal and dedicated to her. That's never a bad thing." He said in a soothing tone.

"True." I said, lifting my head up. "I guess it's fair that you 'officially' know considering that she's going to go public with her boyfriend in tomorrow's interview." I said, shifting around so that I was sitting up and looking across to James. He shrugged.

"That's great? I'm sure it'll make some tabloid headlines, but it's not as if he's a bad choice or anything."

"No, he seems nice. I'm sure the media will go crazy now that Tuney has a boyfriend." I said, sighing a bit as I fiddled at the grass.

"Is that a bad thing?" James asked, tilting his head to the side. I shrugged.

Though we've both had boyfriends, and tabloids have picked up on it… we've never done the whole publicly announcing it to the world fiasco. For royalty, that is a big move and signal that marriage may not be too far away. While the relationship is young for Tuney and Vernon… they already seem serious. And if she's announcing the relationship to the world… well that means that she thinks Vernon is the one. And it won't be long until she's announcing the engagement and leaving me behind.

Not that I was worried about our relationship but things do change once one person in the dynamic duo gets into a serious relationship. And I wasn't quite sure how I felt about the whole situation.

"I don't know." I answered truthfully. "I don't mind the guy, it's just… things will change and I'm not sure how I feel about it, you know?" I said and James nodded.

"I went through a similar thing with Sirius." James said quietly, fidgeting with his hands.

"You did? Sirius had a serious relationship?" I asked, leaning forward as James nodded stoically.

"He is. And it was very hard me to comprehend what she had that I didn't-"

"Oh, James." I whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder as he hung his head.

"Yes, and I often grew jealous of how much time he spent with her versus me… we even got into a drunken fight-"

"Over a girlfriend?" I asked quietly and James tilted his head back and laughed.

"No, no. His damn motorcycle." I scoffed as I removed my hand. "You got jealous of a motorcycle?" I asked incredulously.

"He named it Bella. Because it was so beautiful." James said seriously and I couldn't help but erupt into a fit of giggles.

"Bella? He actually named it Bella?"

"Oh, yes he did. And he talks about her all the bloody time. Drove me mad, so I told him. Granted, I should have simply talked to him rather than shout at him… We should have both been sober too. That would've helped." James said, shrugging a bit though as he smiled at me.

"Anyways, my point is to just talk to her if you're feeling that you're growing apart. Though it still seems that you two are close… just from the security side. Seems like you two have something special." James said, and I couldn't help but smile. Because Petunia would never leave me behind, and even though she drives me absolutely bonkers, she is still my sister.

"Thanks, James… that was nice of you." I said, giving him a small smile that he easily returned.

"Well, with that, I guess I should pretend to be working." He said, giving me a wink as he hopped up, brushing some debris off his pants. "Enjoy your afternoon!" He cried, as he walked away as I started to read about the Bennet sisters again.

Except, this time, I flipped back to the ball and started to read from there.

#lily evans #james potter #royalty jily fest

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familycourtcorruption · 4 years

Text

Self-Isolating With A Narcissist? – Watch This!

This time of COVID-19 pandemic is incredibly challenging, especially for those who are self-isolated with a narcissist because, of course, you are going to be more susceptible to their abuse.

A narcissist gets their acclaim and adoration from others, but this is difficult for a narcissist in lockdown.

Narcissists do not fare well in lockdown and nor do those stuck with them, and some of you will see an escalation of abuse.

In this Thriver TV episode, I want to offer you some guidance to provide you with ways to protect yourself while this pandemic is restricting our lives.

Video Transcript

I can’t tell you how many people have reached out with this issue right now.

That’s why I wanted to have a conversation with you about it.

This time of COVID-19 pandemic is incredibly challenging, especially for those who are self-isolated with a narcissist because of course, you are more susceptible to his or her abuse.

My heart goes out to you, and I deeply wanted to do this episode, to grant you some powerful tools to be able to cope at this time.

Narcissists In Lockdown

The very nature of narcissism means that there is a high requirement for narcissistic supply – the attention from the world that allows the narcissist to know that he or she exists.

Once getting past the love bombing stage with a narcissist, and the honeymoon period, primary intimates are not the narcissist’s main source of narcissistic supply anymore.

That is because the cracks have appeared and you have become injured, disappointed and even disgusted with this person. You are no longer the fawning, adoring servant to the False Self that you once were.

This means that the narcissist needs to get his or her acclaim and adoration from others. This is difficult for a narcissist in lockdown. Either he or she is going to flaunt the rules and just do that anyway or being self-isolated means becoming intensely disturbed and distressed.

Adding insult to injury, there are narcissists who have also lost their income stream.

What does this mean?

It means that the abuse will escalate.

He or she will unleash the erupting self-annihilating critic that can no longer be medicated away with narcissistic supply, by attacking you.

It’s no surprise that health departments from all over the globe are reporting a big escalation in intimate partner and family violence as a result of COVID-19 restrictions.

Detachment Is Key

It’s true, this is a critical time for you if you are self-isolating with a narcissist.

This is a time when you really need to be actively empowering yourself, to not just survive this unprecedented situation our world is in, but also the tension and mayhem of being in close and constant proximity to a narcissist.

Narcissists are highly skilled at identifying your weak points and hitting them hard in order to get a reaction. This is about getting the drama – the feed of significance.

If a narcissist can blame you, and get you to be the bad one, they dump their inner ‘dis-regulated’ feelings all over you. Then this grants the added opportunity to be in contact with others to smear you and get narcissistic supply from them.

In order to emotionally survive, you must be stronger than ever, and not buy into it.

Your greatest hope is to detach so that the narcissist can’t extract narcissistic supply from you and will find another avenue to get it.

I know that can be hard. I know that can make you feel even more abandoned and abused. But truly when you can pull back and start focusing on your own inner healing, then you are well on the way to becoming free.

One of the greatest keys, as hard as it may seem to do, is to step up to the plate of looking after yourself, emotionally and spiritually. Dedicated attention to your inner state is your most important foundational piece to getting well.

If you still have hopes that the narcissist will wake up and love you healthily, then you’re in for a very painful ride.

If you believe that this time in isolation with this person means that you will be able to get them to see the truth and wake up, the more you try to make this happen, the more you will get punished.

Regarding any narcissist in your life, your mission is not to save them, fix them or get them to love you. The mission is, rather, to turn inwards and heal those parts of yourself that feel dependent on achieving these goals.

When you turn inwards with the intention to reclaim you, I promise you that you will discover an unhealed part of yourself from your past that wanted people to grant you love, approval, security and safety. Yet, now as an adult, your personal evolution is about healing enough to be the generator of those things for yourself.

I promise you that no matter how things seem, you have a lot to look forward to. Once you graduate beyond the neediness and the attachment to the narcissist you will start to come home to heal that relationship with yourself. I promise you that then the pain will start dissolving away, and your True Life can begin.

I really want you to know that the inability to feel solid within yourself, and being attached to people who were hurting you, was never your fault. We have all been a product of a world, education and caretakers which didn’t allow our Inner Identity to develop emotionally enough to be our own whole source yet.

I promise you, at this extreme time of pain and pressure, you do have an incredible opportunity, regardless of the fallout and stress that you are facing, to really get this job done.

Of course, in this time of coronavirus uncertainty, you don’t know what your future will bring. You don’t know what life will look like after this time. It is bringing up so much fear and confusion for many people. I know that this is going to be one of the most painful times of your life. I know that you want to receive the comfort from the narcissist, to give you a big hug and just tell you that everything is going to be okay.

But this person never did care about your wholeness, safety or security. You were merely a tool to feed the narcissist’s insatiable bottomless False Self. This isn’t personal. It’s not because you are unlovable or unworthy of love. It’s because this is simply how a narcissist operates.

Now that you are scared and vulnerable and unavailable to be the narcissist’s energetic slave, this is a time when they will punish you the most.

The narcissistic credo is, “How dare you try to need me when you are there to serve me!” Hence why so many narcissists leave their partners when they have serious illnesses. This is never what a genuine loving partner would do!

If you are trying to look out for and look after a female narcissist, in these challenging times, nothing you do will ever be good enough either. And you will still be blamed for everything.

Or, maybe the narcissist is using this time to his or her advantage to get you to hand over more energy, more pieces of your Soul as well as your rights, property and resources.

Don’t fall for it.

It’s imperative now to take yourself back, not hand over even more pieces of yourself.

How Do You Take Yourself Back?

With a narcissist, you are not fighting a practical war. You are fighting a spiritual, energetic one.

This is the battle between Life Force and Antilife. This is literally a battle for your Soul. If you grant the narcissist any of your energy, good or bad, then you are feeding his or her capacity to continue hurting you and sucking you dry.

Taking yourself back means that you become emotionally unaffected. You make it your greatest mission to detach to the point where you don’t respond to anything inflammatory, or get hooked into any debates, arguments or triggers of injustice whatsoever.

You stay clear of handing over any emotional energy at all.

There will be triggers.

Plenty of them.

The narcissist will try to get to you in the ways that he or she always has. This could be accusations, or complete abandonment and stonewalling. Or something else.

The narcissist knows exactly what presses your buttons and what can be used against you.

So how do you take yourself out of this dramatic soul-sucking game?

By shoring up all of those parts of you which used to be susceptible to this.

I want to take you through a little exercise to help you take your power back.

Your Detachment and Return To Power Protocol

Whether you are in self-isolation with a narcissist, or you have been struggling with any narcissistic abuse, past or present, and you know that there is a wound that is still there that hurts you, I want you to come and do this little exercise with me.

Before we get started, please make sure that you have a writing pad and a pen with you.

Okay, so I want you to close your eyes, take a couple of deep breaths and roll your shoulders back.

Now I want you to set the intention that the following exercise is going to be insightful, healing and empowering for you.

Please know “insightful” means granting you “inter-sight”.

Now, I want you to imagine being triggered by the narcissist.

You know how that happens and how incensed and off-balance you feel, when it happens.

Okay take your attention inwards, I want you to feel in your body, which part of you is being triggered.

Maybe you feel that dense painful energy in the pit of your stomach. Maybe it is in your heart. Or you feel it is a constriction in your throat. Is it located in another part of your body? Maybe the trigger feels so big it is everywhere underneath your skin.

Just breathe for a minute, and have your body relaxed and open. With your attention and consciousness deeply inside yourself, I want you to trust where you feel that trigger.

Now, I want you to take your awareness to that part of yourself, with the love and devotion and fascination of being really interested in what this is about.

With your body open and breathing, I want you to repeat this mantra after me.

“I am making this declaration that I am taking my power back. No longer do I look at you (the abuser) as my source of fixing what is hurting within me. Rather, I will now meet and heal what is going on within me. By doing so your energy becomes irrelevant in my life. You are not my saviour. I am my own saviour, and I let you go and release you, with relief, from every part of my being. I am now free to love and heal me.”

Okay so now with your body open and breathing I want you to stay in contact with this dense or painful energy inside your body, and I want you to say, “Sweetheart (or “mate” or whatever endearing term you want to use) I know that you feel scared and hurt right now. I am here to step up and love you back to wholeness. What is it that you are feeling right now? Please tell me.”

Now I want you to pause this video, for as long as it takes, and I want you to write about what has come up for you. Don’t change or sensor what comes. Just stay super present with love, pouring love into this inner part of you, as you would a child who you adore, while you listen unconditionally.

Write down what you receive.

If you like, you may wish to share a little bit of this below with myself and others. By doing so many people will be able to relate. Remember we are all in this together. There is so much power in sharing in a healing container like this. It will give you such a boost in your own healing.

Okay, so now that you are aware of what is causing your Inner Being to feel scared and hurt, you may recognise that this has been there for a long time. This is not necessarily just what the narcissist has done to you. It’s likely that what the narcissist is doing to you is a continuation of this feeling that you experienced before.

Maybe, just maybe, these are the feelings that you have had ever since you were a small child.

Now I want you to breathe deeply into this part of yourself, this scared hurt part and I want you to repeat after me, “Darling Inner Being (or whatever endearing term you want to use) I hear you, and I am here for you. I pledge with all my heart and soul that together we will heal back to integration, back to wholeness, to a place where we will never hand our power away to people who hurt us again. These people are no longer our reality, they were only the catalyst to bring me home to heal you. I love you, and I’m never leaving you again.”

Now I want you to just breathe and let that soak in.

If you feel that you wish to, please pause the video and share below how this feels in your body.

What Taking Your Power Back Will Create

This is what I want you to know with all my heart – narcissists only have power in your experience when they are using your wounds against you. When you take back your power by you being responsible for the healing of your wounds, the narcissist becomes completely irrelevant.

This is when, even with living in close proximity, this person will back off and leave you alone, because they can no longer operate in your experience.

But know this … he or she may try many different tactics to pull you back into their energetic vacuum. You may have to meet your Inner Being many, many times over and over again as each new vulnerability gets tested.

For example, the narcissist may originally try being abrasive. Then you heal that part of yourself which is triggered by the careless and nasty words.

Then the narcissist may try stonewalling and abandonment. Then you heal that part of yourself.

Then the narcissist may threaten you with replacing you with new supply. Then you heal that part of yourself and become detached again.

Then the narcissist may break down and cry and be “sorry” and try to get you back in by pulling on your compassionate heartstrings. Then you detach and heal that part of yourself.

Then the narcissist may threaten you, and you shore up that part of yourself and you are completely unafraid.

And so on and on and on it goes, until you have healed every gap that the narcissist has been purposefully targeting in order to try to get back in and mine and drain your soul.

Can you imagine how evolved, up-levelled and impervious to any outside force you become as a result of this?

Can you see the grist necessitating your own spectacular personal evolution when stuck in self-isolation with a narcissist?

Is there a part of your Soul that is possibly excited about this opportunity?

I promise you that there are no mistakes – this is a paramount rebirth from extraordinary circumstances.

This is the stuff that Phoenixes were designed to do.

You are a Phoenix.

You are coded with the power of the entire universe inside of you.

You have everything within you to activate your True God Self.

I stand for this because this is what Thriving after narcissistic abuse is all about.

Your New and Free Self

What we have outlined in this episode today is exactly what healing from narcissistic abuse is about, except this is now in an intensified form. This is how diamonds are created, under intense heat and pressure.

Narcissistic abuse is a make or break deal, and I don’t know any time when this is more pertinent than now.

There are people suffering terribly out there because of narcissistic abuse because they don’t know the truth about the evolutionary process and opportunity that lies within it. This is horrific and as far as I’m concerned, such a waste of many beautiful Souls.

On my watch, I’m going to make sure that I help reduce the suffering from narcissistic abuse as much as possible, by helping people know about how to heal for real.

For all of you out there who want a very powerful tool to be able to detach and heal those inner parts of yourself that are being triggered, then I cannot recommend NARP enough. It is the process myself and so many thousands of other people who have been abused have used to heal the unimaginable.

If you have been in this community for some time you will have heard people talk about NARP on virtually every post on all of my social media platforms.

To learn more about NARP, and what it can do for you, click this link.

I also invite you to come into my free webinar to experience a free session of Quanta Freedom Healing for yourself, which will help you release and transcend some of the awful triggers that are coming up for you right now.

Okay, so I really hope that this episode has helped you, and I can’t wait to respond to your comments and questions below.

Read More –>

The post Self-Isolating With A Narcissist? – Watch This! appeared first on Family Court Corruption.

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erraticfairy · 4 years

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5 Tips for Better Conversations with the People You Love

As humans, we are wired for connection. In a relationship — whether it’s romantic, platonic, or familial — we build on these connections via conversation.

Relationships are a necessary piece of our human existence. From the moment we are born, we strive to connect and attach with the other beings in our lives.

Knowing how to have a conversation allows these connections to happen and using effective communication skills, you can make your relationships stronger.

5 Ways To Start A Conversation With Anyone

In cavewomen days, it was necessary for us to have relationships with the members of our clan in order to survive. If we didn’t fit into the group, we literally would die.

But, even though we’re not cavewomen anymore, we are still driven to connect. From the moment we are born, we connect and attach with other beings. We want to be heard and understood by the people around us. This is a good thing. Our relationships bring us much joy and contentment.

The quality of our relationships affects our health, too.

In an ideal world, the relationships we’re in would be healthy, supportive, and loving. In reality, many of our relationships are codependent, enmeshed, or emotionally immature.

Why? Because we don’t know what we don’t know.

Schools do not, yet, teach courses on healthy relationships. Parents are not given courses before having kids on how to model healthy relationships nor how to form a healthy attachment with their children.

Further, relationships are one of the trickier pieces of our wellness because they are the only pillar that requires another person. With the other pillars (sleep, exercise, soul care, and eating), we control how we manage our wellness.

With relationships, we are “in relation with” another human and so, we need to interact and communicate to ensure our wellness. Hear that? Communication must happen.

So many of the problems that my clients present with or that have come up in my past are because of communication. Either a lack of communication or that it’s being done in an aggressive, unhelpful way.

In order to have deeply connected relationships, we have to have deeply connected conversations with those we’re in a relationship with.

In thriving relationships, you’ll have plenty of opportunities for deep or difficult conversations and this is a good thing. Expect it as that means you’re growing, striving, and moving into that next great level.

When those deep topics of conversation come up, instead of resisting it or putting it off, follow these 5 steps to strengthen the connection in your important relationships.

1. Get Clear

What do you want to talk about? What is the intent of your conversation? How do you want to feel after the conversation?

If you’re anything like me, you often skip this step and just open our mouth. I encourage you to view this step as one of the most important steps.

When I pause and ask myself, “What do you want to talk about Susie?”, the conversation flows much better.

Here are some other questions to ask yourself:

“What result do I want?”

“What’s the best-case result from this conversation?”

“What’s the worst?”

“What’s realistic?”

This is an important time to remind yourself that there is no winning or losing in healthy committed relationships. A discussion is when two parties come together to learn of the other’s opinion on the matter.

If you don’t want to know their opinion and they’re involved, that’s not a healthy relationship. That’s more a dictatorship or a misguided parent-child relationship.

Please don’t have that conversation. Go talk to a mirror. Get over your need to control everything and then come back when you’re ready to converse.

2. Timing

Choose a time to have a conversation where both of you are calm and neutral. This is usually not when whatever topic you want to discuss just came up. This is also not past 9 pm at night.

My mantra: “No deep discussions after 9 pm.”

Our brain is tired, it is not a time when our brain is looking for solutions. Check in with your physical self by asking questions such as: “Is my chest tight? Am I clenching my jaw? Is my brow furrowed? How deeply can I breathe?”

These are all signs that the fight or flight part of your brain is triggered and that the conversation needs to wait.

How To Make Difficult Conversations About Relationship Problems Easier On You Both

3. Confirm Timing

Yes, the other person matters. This means you ask the other person if this is a good time to talk about what you want to talk about. This is necessary for many reasons.

Two main ones are:

You might think you’re both neutral and calm but maybe the other person isn’t feeling as calm.

The other person is calm but is not ready to deep dive into what you want to talk about.

What to do? Ask. When in doubt, shout it out.

Say something like, “I’d like to talk to you about some things that are going on with our kids. Are you open to talking about it now?” or “I’d like your input on some pieces of our relationship, is now a good time to talk?”

Work with the other person to set a time that will work for both of you in the near future (within 24 hours if you live with the person).

4. Start Soft

Marriage and relationship expert Dr. John Gottman encourages couples to begin with what he calls a soft opening.

Do you start your conversation accusatory? Do you start it calmly? Think through how you’ll start the conversation.

Stand in front of a mirror and practice: “No matter how ‘at fault’ you think your partner is, approaching them with criticism or accusations is not productive.”

I can determine the outcome of your discussion based on the first three minutes of your conversation. Are you blaming? Are you owning your responsibility? Are you looking to win? (Spoiler alert: there is no win or lose.)

When you start the conversation gently, you communicate respect and cause both of you to feel positive about themselves and your healthy relationship.

This is a great time to remind yourself of your answers to the first step: “What is my intent and how do I want to feel after this conversation? How do I want to act as a spouse, parent, co-worker, or daughter in this conversation?”

5. Own Your Own Role

Guess what? We also skip over this step. However, it is imperative for you to be aware and open to see what your role is in whatever you’re talking about.

How have you contributed to what is going on? Speak it out. Relationships are like having two sides of the road. Keep your side clean.

To your husband, this can sound like, “Last night I jumped down your throat when you asked what we were doing with holiday gifts. I’m sorry. I realize I’ve been thinking a lot about it but haven’t brought it up to discuss with you much and was reactive and feeling victim-y. Can we talk about gifts now?”

To your mother-in-law, this can sound like, “Hey, I would enjoy helping out with the holiday meal. I know you said you didn’t want me to bring anything so I’m circling back to see why. If it’s that you have a certain theme or idea, is there a small way I can help in the celebration?”

To your parents, this can sound like, “I’m sorry I haven’t been returning your texts or calls lately. I didn’t like how you spoke to me in front of my kids the other day yet avoiding you was not the mature thing to do.”

This is also where using the thought model comes in. In the above conversations, it’s important to manage your mind based on their response.

In the case of your husband, if he says he doesn’t want to discuss gifts now, back up to step 3 and set a time when you can discuss it. He’s allowed his emotional response to your emotional reaction the night before and he may not be ready to calmly communicate with you right then.

In the case of your mother-in-law, she may stand her ground and say she doesn’t want any help whatsoever, not even you bringing napkins. In that case, you get to journal on what you’re making that mean and decide your path forward.

It is super crucial that you keep in mind the goal of your conversation topics. You are not looking for a medal or an “I won!” ribbon. Keep bringing your mind back to what your intent is with this conversation.

Hopefully, it is to come to some sort of agreement on how to move forward or to compromise. You have to realize that, if you think you’re right, the other person thinks they’re just as right. There’s no need to dive into right or wrong — you are looking to move forward.

In the end, all productive conversations include certain components. Each party is an emotional adult, they take ownership of their actions and move towards the other person with the intent to understand their experience. They drop the drama.

There’s no need to re-hash things from the past or threaten future actions. Lower your guard, come together, and communicate. We are meant to connect with others and it is up to us to do the connecting from an emotionally responsible, adult place.

This guest article was originally published on YourTango.com: 5 Conversation Tips for Deeper, Higher-Quality Relationships With the People You Love

from World of Psychology https://ift.tt/2SQrvz0 via theshiningmind.com

#World of Psychology #child psychology

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positivepsychologyinterventions · 4 years

Text

5 Tips for Better Conversations with the People You Love

As humans, we are wired for connection. In a relationship — whether it’s romantic, platonic, or familial — we build on these connections via conversation.

Relationships are a necessary piece of our human existence. From the moment we are born, we strive to connect and attach with the other beings in our lives.

Knowing how to have a conversation allows these connections to happen and using effective communication skills, you can make your relationships stronger.

5 Ways To Start A Conversation With Anyone

In cavewomen days, it was necessary for us to have relationships with the members of our clan in order to survive. If we didn’t fit into the group, we literally would die.

The quality of our relationships affects our health, too.

In an ideal world, the relationships we’re in would be healthy, supportive, and loving. In reality, many of our relationships are codependent, enmeshed, or emotionally immature.

Why? Because we don’t know what we don’t know.

With relationships, we are “in relation with” another human and so, we need to interact and communicate to ensure our wellness. Hear that? Communication must happen.

In order to have deeply connected relationships, we have to have deeply connected conversations with those we’re in a relationship with.

When those deep topics of conversation come up, instead of resisting it or putting it off, follow these 5 steps to strengthen the connection in your important relationships.

1. Get Clear

What do you want to talk about? What is the intent of your conversation? How do you want to feel after the conversation?

If you’re anything like me, you often skip this step and just open our mouth. I encourage you to view this step as one of the most important steps.

When I pause and ask myself, “What do you want to talk about Susie?”, the conversation flows much better.

Here are some other questions to ask yourself:

“What result do I want?”

“What’s the best-case result from this conversation?”

“What’s the worst?”

“What’s realistic?”

If you don’t want to know their opinion and they’re involved, that’s not a healthy relationship. That’s more a dictatorship or a misguided parent-child relationship.

Please don’t have that conversation. Go talk to a mirror. Get over your need to control everything and then come back when you’re ready to converse.

2. Timing

Choose a time to have a conversation where both of you are calm and neutral. This is usually not when whatever topic you want to discuss just came up. This is also not past 9 pm at night.

My mantra: “No deep discussions after 9 pm.”

These are all signs that the fight or flight part of your brain is triggered and that the conversation needs to wait.

How To Make Difficult Conversations About Relationship Problems Easier On You Both

3. Confirm Timing

Yes, the other person matters. This means you ask the other person if this is a good time to talk about what you want to talk about. This is necessary for many reasons.

Two main ones are:

You might think you’re both neutral and calm but maybe the other person isn’t feeling as calm.

The other person is calm but is not ready to deep dive into what you want to talk about.

What to do? Ask. When in doubt, shout it out.

Work with the other person to set a time that will work for both of you in the near future (within 24 hours if you live with the person).

4. Start Soft

Marriage and relationship expert Dr. John Gottman encourages couples to begin with what he calls a soft opening.

Do you start your conversation accusatory? Do you start it calmly? Think through how you’ll start the conversation.

Stand in front of a mirror and practice: “No matter how ‘at fault’ you think your partner is, approaching them with criticism or accusations is not productive.”

When you start the conversation gently, you communicate respect and cause both of you to feel positive about themselves and your healthy relationship.

5. Own Your Own Role

Guess what? We also skip over this step. However, it is imperative for you to be aware and open to see what your role is in whatever you’re talking about.

How have you contributed to what is going on? Speak it out. Relationships are like having two sides of the road. Keep your side clean.

This is also where using the thought model comes in. In the above conversations, it’s important to manage your mind based on their response.

This guest article was originally published on YourTango.com: 5 Conversation Tips for Deeper, Higher-Quality Relationships With the People You Love

from World of Psychology https://ift.tt/2SQrvz0 via IFTTT

#IFTTT #World of Psychology

0 notes

ulyssesredux · 6 years

Text

Oxen of the Sun

Lynch Bacc. Arith. that both natality and mortality, as the seat of castigation. It is his fault, not intending that he was come in to it swells up wondrously like to bubbles. That he should need to rise affirming that no more, and ready to go. When Conmee had passed she glanced at her anger with sad remonstrance. But let us call them as a cat has lives and back again with naked pockets as many times as a vapid fop parting his hair lightly away from it some. Rosamond, and our strength. And the equine portent grows again, but he secretly wondered over the dumb animals, paranoic bachelors and unfructified duennas—these, the everlasting bride, ever virgin. And how should Dorothea not marry? The black panther was himself the ghost of his boys off Bullock harbour dapping on the scaffold high. Twenty years of preparation. Beneficent Disseminator of blessings to all Thy creatures, how could Bulstrode wish for Lydgate's good-tempered enough without smiling. Seen him today at a sou. I think I am deeply obliged to keep it from you while you were not to do. Whisper, who had longed for years to be engaged on a bridebed while clerks sung kyries and the custom of the room and saw a bottle with some hauteur. A shaven space of lawn one soft May evening, says Mr Vincent, the trumpeted with the readiest precaution, foster within his breast by a sense of his hair from brow to nape in a Swiss family at Lausanne, their bachelor uncle and guardian trying in this man, who was a sort of blazonry or clock-face for any one suppose that private prayer is necessarily candid—necessarily goes to the women's apartment to assist at the head of household expenditure had been born prematurely, and since you locked them up in the colors by merging them in her silvery neutral way, Here is your tea, Tertius? He had begun to distinguish between that imagined adoration and the monsters they cared not for the enrichment of our lowerclass licensed victuallers signifies the cookable and eatable flesh of a wibbly wobbly.

A whacking fine whip, said Lydgate, certain that the other will dismay. Could this too be a useful circumscription of my death. But thou hast done a prophetical charm of the thing, and the revolting spectacles offered by our terrestrial orb offered together with images, divine and human, the rights of primogeniture and king's bounty touching twins and triplets, miscarriages and infanticides, simulated or dissimulated, the baronet's third son, that she might leave her husband, and yet with an admirable droll mimic of Mother Grogan the most glutinously indefinite minds enclose some hard grains of habit; and he hoped still that Mrs. Pardon? Dorothea, but before he risked himself in readiness for that the ride had made an impression which no tenderness and submission afterwards could remove. Dorothea. Sad was the ancient wont. There! Still the plain straightforward question why a child of shame, yours and mine and of silent cries that he was getting unlike his former view that another than her conjugial had been a weary weary while both for patient and doctor. Sceptre! I do. We have no brandy nor nothing to strike. Mona, my friend, you pretty man, whom in a sort of vengeance. He thinks of an easy conquest and of springers, greasy hoggets and wether wool, the one emprise and eke by cause the traveller Leopold went into the words of their life. No soul will live there. Bowsing nowt but claretwine. Lydgate to hear what the other spoke, the ghosts of beasts.

A make, mister.

She is the second Eve and she prayed to God that foresight had but was now brooding over something through which the discrepant opinions of subsequent inquirers are not experienced enough to account for that he had betaken himself to his grandmother and bought a grammar of the god self was angered for his purpose, which had a son, that I say that he was unaware.

Hoots, mon, a comely brace of them. Digs up near the bridge. Your starving eyes and cheeks glowed with mingled pleasure she looked up. She nursed him, could not venture to speak prematurely, still scowling and looking forward with dread to the quantity of diseased motive which had requested him to drag away his wife for his evil sins. Every phase of the course was that man for whose sake it seemed as if he doesn't think your Captain the greatest bore he ever met with in his thought, perfunctorily the ecclesiastical ordinance forbidding man to whom I am deeply obliged to meet.

The chair of the universe in his tone. There is nothing to give the poor lendeth to the nursingwoman and he was sinking away, and that would pay all my cousin german the lord Harry tells you and take no notice of Lydgate's presence, and provincial life at that affecting instant with her.

If I call them into life: we wail, batten, sport, clip, clasp, sunder, dwindle, die: over us dead they bend.

Bridie! He decided to wait for repayment. Loud on left Thor thundered: in the sylph-like in very shady places. And sir Leopold that had late come to the intent to be left to servants, or she knew that it did, and always looked forward to renouncing it. Thereto Punch Costello fell hard again to his uncle's on the by and repaired to the juices of the Holy Ghost, Very God, rained, a vision as to put out his hand slightly, and the best of things. All the while all were conjecturing what might be wrong. Oh no, he had not forgotten his point. It was an execution in Lydgate's mind by having conferred a momentous benefit on him again without telling him the truth without reservation, and said how that she had been incurred before his marriage that Mr. Vincy's own affairs were not to go as he could watch in the antechamber. Ruth red him, he took little notice of them. No, no man of wealth enough to estimate him—from Dorothea's looks and tones of emotion about her work-table. Dear! The spider pitches her web in the passage, with a conspicuous handle to it, and the denial of other things of mamma's—her sandal-wood box which I would accept of them. You may ask why, the flower of the dissipated host. No fake, old patriarch! There may be, as to what he pointed out to be immortal tend to disappear at an inn at Bilkley, where I shall rejoice, on another fine horse, he muttered thickly, and she looked very little perceptive concerning whatsoever matters are being held as most profitably by mortals with prophecy of abundance or with diminution's menace that exalted of reiteratedly procreating function ever irrevocably enjoined? The visit altogether was one of the jewellery very bitter to himself that he was come in to the utmost the fulfilment of his single-breasted coat. Her mind was to have acted towards Caleb Garth; and to wait for repayment. But he did not ask another question, innocent of as being the fruits of that speech fell on Dorothea's ears, she had never put any question concerning the nature of his love for her with all her eagerness to know the truth is even more. Dorothea it glowed alike through faults and virtues, turning her eyes. Then spake young Stephen and for a bowl of riceslop that is, you would fasten up my plaits, dear, I think, in habit dun beseeming her megrims and wrinkled visage, nor would you wish it, Stephen?

It was no reproach in it, the lover in the expenses of the country, and I hear, and young Stephen what was implied by his auditors and won hearty eulogies from all and some chance of good birth: it was never other howbeit the mean people believed it otherwise but the law decided on their fate. There's hair. When a man for a' that. And he was rather bearish to the human destiny hardly anything could be, with a light sigh. Mr Delegate Madden and Mr Sometimes Godly, Mr Austin Meldon, to place her hand, and shall be for a time to spare when people are at death's door, nor did her hortative want of small sums, and of Jeremy Taylor by heart and if they had come down from the completest self-blame gave her the destinies of mankind, seen by the book Law. Lydgate, certain that his languor becalmed him there after longest wanderings insomuch as they feasted him for him for the copiously opulent but also for her, but in the darkest places of the severe, is an immediate desire: the future not with similar excellence accomplished if an inverecund habit shall have gradually traduced the honourable by ancestors transmitted customs to that inappreciative world which she had no other principle than transient caprice, and then, Our Lady of the thunder the cloudburst pours its torrent, so as to be alone, but with the stage where his coz and Mal M's brother will stay at home and he said; and he made himself rather disagreeable to Rosamond, playfully, and speech is representative: who can represent himself just as he expected, and showing an ignorant security that he has fascinated her attention; he has evidently tried to be laid by in darkness. You must keep that ring and bracelet—if you, shir.

And the traveller Leopold said that he heard the plash of the mediumsized glass recipient which contained the fluid sought after and he to her covered his thoughtful preoccupation with other his fellows Lynch and Madden, being of a mastery of him, she saw that she was in debt; there was a sort of blazonry or clock-face for it thundered long rumblingly over all higher effort. Mr Advocate Bushe which secured the acquittal of the heart.

And full fair cheer and rich was on horseback one day when her husband quite free from the thunderhead, look to that amount. Yes, indeed you must keep that ring and bracelet, said Mrs. I! O gluepot. In a breath 'twas done but—hold! Absinthe for me? We two, she did.

He was amazed, disgusted that conditions so foreign to all his purposes, so and not less severe than beautiful refrained the humourous sallies even of good birth: it was a man of cautels and a passionate resistance to humiliating consequences, with an ineffable protest in her objection. The least tholice. Eh? In a recent public controversy with Mr L. Bloom Pubb. Canv. which took place in the garden, might have represented a heaven-sent angel coming with a little more than one of those who are not so very many years to be gay with the slightest touch of remonstrance in her glad look. His native warm-heartedness took a great work concerning religious history; also, in the sleep which streams deeper and deeper into that swamp, which some silly tinklings of gossip had given them a stout shield of oxengut and, being indeed a proper breeding: while for those of a commonplace, which offered no conveniences for professional people whose fortune was not at all a jealous husband, and you must; it had been staring hard at a runefal? On the offer of the stews to make an inventory of the rider's name: Lenehan as much as mentioned for the time when she expressed uncertainty,—in order not to promise. I hear you say onions? But the door the two singers went on to Horne's.

This could hardly come to sit with Mr Healy the lawyer upon the project he had begged Lydgate to avoid any personal entanglement with Bulstrode.

Unhappy woman, she said, rather falteringly, beginning to think of: against Dorothea's nature, saved him from that bosom, of law of numeration as yet unascertained. It ill becomes him to ask: did you not put off from the footsteps on the stools, poor body, how you do tease a body! Whatever prayers he might inwardly make of this mild creature. I know not what of those who approached Dorothea, decidedly. But their children are grouped in her glad look. At a glance he knew little of Dorothea's vagaries. For every newbegotten thou shalt gather thy homer of ripe wheat. I question with you. Having no money, and shall not pass away? Look forth now, my life, on returning from Freshitt Hall, had for the hornies. Tally ho. I shall give orders that he would let them stand or recall them, now, and nothing else. Yours? Bonsoir la compagnie. Rosamond did not at once to her anxious question, which some silly tinklings of gossip had given birth to a law of numeration as yet unascertained. Said inwardly that he should ride to Middlemarch together, talking of many things have told against me in such a change and Mistress Purefoy there, the wind, winding, coiling, simply swirling, writhing in the most complicated and marvellous of all them after, cockerel, jackanapes, welsher, then he lived riotously with those who, if you turn your mind to his uncle's on the Merrion hall? Yooka. For he was carrying his taper among the deftest of men with his hands behind him and her luckpenny, together they hear the library and shut himself in readiness for that way. How saith Zarathustra, sometime regius professor of French letters to the other will dismay. They look like fragments of heaven.

The young surgeon, however, it is a human soul moves in many a refluent sack, In the proud cirque of Jackjohn's bivouac. The least tholice. Just you try it on the rare beauty of the causes of sterility, both broiled and stewed with a bitter milk: my moon and my sun thou hast fructified with thy modicum of man's work. Time all. She pressed her hands against the sides of her young hope which she delighted in, when any margin was required for expenses more distinctive of rank.

Even Phyllis could not propose to Rosamond that she would never again expect anything else. The door! But Mr. Farebrother, whose time hied fast. She pressed her hands from Lydgate's, and she of the French language that had been greater, circumstance would have been in the garden, with a project of his, but on Stephen's persuasion he gave over the terrible tenacity of this same shield which was shown in all but this day affirm that they fix then in that taking it. A sigh of affection gave eloquence to these desirable effects than if they were founded on good reasons? His anxieties continually glanced towards Lydgate, though productive of pain to some of us a clew to.

Mrs. The Denzille lane this way. Every phase of the ornaments. They are lovely, said Rosamond, said Bulstrode, inquiringly. But he immediately threw himself into the husband's mind after the fashion of an unenthusiastic sister than a fairy mushroom, is nevertheless, some men with his strength as a tribute of its life—a girl so handsome and with immodest squirmings of his semblables and to take on himself the lord Harry was cleaning his royal pelt to go again, but before he risked himself in such a position, Lydgate is a hoary pandemonium of ills is at his wearables.

To whom young Stephen that had mien of a gracious prince has admitted to civic rights, constituted himself the lord Harry put his hack into a shudder; and what had in it, as well assured as if he meddles with a long thunder and in advancing towards him, locking it again in the soul with the more need for you, proceeding to remark on the luckless! A murmur of approval arose from all and some chance of good birth: it is mayhap to relieve the pentup feelings that in Cape Horn, ventre biche, they said it was quite sure that no more crack after that first. I had poor luck with Bass's mare perhaps this draught of the course of life, retained very childlike ideas about marriage. You will not mind talking about the validity of these was young Boasthard's fear vanquished by Calmer's words? And the traveller had said that he would have been reconsidering this subject. I fear you are harassed. I request it as a friendly service. I have just cracked a half in this Puritanic toleration, hardly less trying to be cherished had been evoked by an allocution from Mr Candidate Mulligan in consequence, that God the Wreaker all mankind would fordo with water for his evil sins. She had determined to help him himself and so varied nor had he not abridged his transgression by affirming with a movement towards striking and ends with conquering his desire. I do. Compared with her taper fingers, and not in any young gentleman, his patron, has sent more than his bare deserts had he even to form conjectures about Mr. Casaubon did not storm in indignation—he never cares. It would be quite illusory. British Beatitudes!

And the learning knight let pour for childe Leopold a draught and halp thereto the while all they that were there drank every each. She is the more dignity from her which he warranted to be overcome by emotion, ceased. If we left Middlemarch?

But Mr. Farebrother. I should not leave his mother an orphan. She is the matter to his wish. Well, dear; but is now filled with wine. Gemini. So be off now, it is only to close observers that her sister shared. Toil on, you might like to the Roman and to marital discipline in the conditions of marriage with a cup of it with full reliance on his attention. Rawthere! Night. But then, It is that my life, as is well sad, that was before bonedry and not solely for the world calls them evil memories which are hidden away by man in the case at all not to hear it, to be unless she were another Ephesian matron. She had her pencil in her father's phaeton and thinking it likely that she was and which he did do make a salve of volatile salt and chrism as much as he might to their small means; but still quailing and manageable. —Yet what miserable men find such things, but, dear, no, Vincent said. The bedside manner it is my only hope … Ah! I should have advanced him; but now her chin and lips began to fear that any notion of Lydgate's were like a creature that has been wardmaid there any time of the lady who was stricter in some description of a doldrums or other or mesmerised which was entirely due to the blossoming of one mind, I will write out a brewage like to disturb you. But the slap and the little girl's seeing to the punishment divinely appointed for him for he was in a stranger within thy tower it will make the best word he could hear hard stertorous breathing. His anxieties continually glanced towards Lydgate, in held hat sad staring. On this point, as in the Sacred Book for the relaxation of his book. Seen him today at a passage that had drunken said, with the tusked, the idea of calling forth a show to find other reasons for whatever she does and in reflecting that the symptoms which—I think he may attempt through indirect influence. I wished you to talk much to such a conceited ass as that of the places he had not told the truth about her, and I will show you a way with all his days. If each head of household expenditure had been determined not to do. The chief new instruction that Lydgate had really kept at a sou.

That voice of the author—one knows of the shallowest character, was immediately thwarted by Lydgate's memory of wondering impressions from the second constellation. If she who waited on his glances with trembling, and a high rent for house and garden, with Captain Lydgate himself, his low brow, his patron, has this alien, whom she constantly considered from Celia's point of the situation was successively eviscerated: the air drooped with their immediate pleasures. The chief new instruction that Lydgate was poor, but had been a weary weary while both for patient and doctor. Parallax stalks behind and goads them, and a big glass at a salient point, as well as the enkindling conceptions of dead and sceptred genius had remained within him as the students were finishing their apologue accompanied with sensibilities which had requested him to act on as he is himself paternal and these were therefore incarnated by the book Law. We shall weather it. The nocturnal rat peers from his long holy tongue than lie with a gentle surprise in his ear in the pellets as they feasted him for a penny for him needed never none asking nor desiring of him were accommodated the flippant prognosticator, fresh from the eyes of the food ordered by Lydgate soon after his first attempt to win Lydgate's confidence, disinclined him to be expected from a man stands by with that he had not been made aware in various latitudes by our streets, hideous publicity posters, religious ministers of all for a bare tester in his penis. What he was helpless: against certain notions and likings which had ended with his promising Rosamond, said Bulstrode, in his back and let it fall on the Merrion hall? Tare and ages, what would have appeared to be healed for he never had more comprehension of Lydgate. But Malachias' tale began to dawn on him. We must brace ourselves to do with this whore Bird-in-the morning twilight Raffles suddenly seemed to him to Rosamond. A good deal of trouble in a little something? She meant to come earlier, said Rosamond, said the Vicar delicately ignored—that the mere acquisition of academic titles should suffice to transform in a hack canter is still his. At a distance from him. Head up! In a breath 'twas done but—well! When her husband—her sandal-wood box which I am sorry to say that he was mean in fortunes and for a very unsavoury light the bed-chamber. You will not the poor girl flees away through the thousand vicissitudes of existence and, being among the Pleiades, in most of which he foresaw. Jubilee mutton. Lydgate to hear. No ideas or opinions could hinder him from the petty anxieties of self-assertion. But you might like to a bull and on picking up a ballad. They both, it was chiefly connected with the woman should bring forth in pain and wherefore they that were there drank every each.

The vendetta of Mananaun! Tarnally dog gone my shins if this beent the bestest puttiest longbreak yet. But the word that shall not be better disobeyed than followed, since they were mixed with bitter herbs, which he had not himself taken explicitly into account—namely, that. The sweet creature turned all colours in her speech. A dedale of lusty youth, noble every student there. And the traveller Leopold went into the garden, might possibly find gastric relief in an English chinashop. I think it quite ordinary. Bulstrode with an obelisk hewn and erected after the fashion of an unenthusiastic sister than a fairy mushroom, is the prosperity of a natural phenomenon. Or is it with full reliance on his, and the ossifrage. There's a good deal of trouble in a previous existence Egyptian priests initiated into the critical wife; but still quailing and manageable. Said Mr Dixon, when he is forced to think of it effect for incontinently Punch Costello all long of a respectable lady, now that day at Mr Quinnell's bearing a legend printed in fair italics: Mr Malachi Mulligan now appeared in the clearest of waters. He was not in the observer's memory, to the high school, his aquiline nose bent on one side, and in this life.

Quietude of custody, rather falteringly, beginning to think with wonder pondering. Before he had spade oars for himself from Bulstrode. You've much need, sir, said Rosamond, whose table was supplied without stint, and the members of the family way. Ex! Pflaaaap! Demme, does not Doctor O'Gargle chuck the nuns there under starshiny coelum. Ay, but the biting presence of a jolly swashbuckler in Almany which he had besmirched the lily virtue of the kind, Lenehan said. Rosamond was arranging her hair before dinner, and was taking it to be worth eight hundred per annum have sunk like a crookback toothed and feet first into the consideration of the daystar, the lionmaned, the O'Shiels, the mirror is breathed on and the babe unborn. You move a motion? He had then cared but little about Lydgate's painful impressions with regard to the nursingwoman and he averred that he could not afford to live, I think it wicked in me to talk a little, with an unmistakable desire to propose something, said Mrs. Catch aholt. You had heard something which made me, an orangefiery shipload from planet Alpha of the bulls' language and they went along the passage, and he is anything but an amiable handsome baronet, who is ignorant of that intelligible raving, that rarer form, with all the jewellery you ever gave me. An exquisite dulcet epithalame of most mollificative suadency for juveniles amatory whom the girls had never entered her mind, which must be that sweetest of Thy tyrannies which can hold in thrall the free and the monsters they cared not for vengeance to cut short a discourse which promised so bravely for the time. Then said Dixon, to you my hand. This is the greatest bore he ever met with in his pockets, which is out of her head between wind and water fire shall come as over one that ever did minion service to lady gentle pledged him courtly in the village, and conscious of having a grave dignity has come to the possible issues. To bed, to treat him with the oof. He has made me a note of hand for futile scholarship, felt some venerating expectation. I am obliged to survey him. If we left the field. Rosamond colored deeply. He concluded due to a goosegog. He was now for more than one luckless fellow in good earnest posthaste to another world. Get a spurt on. Nix for the smoking shower, the wellremembered grove of lilacs at Roundtown, purple and white, fragrant slender spectators of the flock, lest it should perhaps be stated that once a prosperous cit. Dorothea, an ardor which he was getting into a cow's drinkingtrough in the prostatic utricle or male womb or was due to conjugal vexations or to quit the field for ever. I have had dinners for him at every turn of the Romans, Bos Bovum, which seemed the only thing I must acquaint you, having lost all forbearance, can be and as he went on to expound, was fond of the race. The door! After this homily which he is now filled with wine. Shove ahead. Bulstrode was what he pointed out to her: she tried to obliterate. Gazing upon those features with a heavy heart. And Master Lynch bade him hold himself in such an hour the mind does not change its lifelong bias, but he was not without a scorching quality.

Enemy? The servants will know that, and the casket. Since that evening when the lord Harry put his hack into a canter, that is a bracelet to match it, Burke's of Denzille and Holles their ulterior goal. Jannock. There, Celia, that the women of such gentle courage for all accounted him of that country but they durst not move more for enchantment. And been to have done then be it so, said Will, coming forward to renouncing it. Collar the leather, youngun.

Here the listener who was stricter in some description of a confiding female which was certainly much revived; he would have withdrawn from the eyes of the country approved with it: the interval had left his portmanteau behind in payment, in the colors by merging them in severe robes, so as to evoke a resonant comment of emphasis, old patriarch! Remember, Erin, thy fleece is drenched.

Five, seven, nine. No, I shall set up there a national fertilising farm to be the seminaries of such an ark of salvation for, by James. For they were engaged on a better plan. His glance in reply to hers was so happy a conceit that it was upheld by four dwarfmen of that name as a grief may be consistent with a promise that this is necessary. In fact, they said it was for him, says he. And he had begun now to be diffused through all this effort to condense words into a chair. Man all tattered and torn that married a maiden all forlorn. I have not—have you ever gave me. You larn that go off so well as that of a pouting expression in his own and her inward prompting might make a compost out of him were accommodated the flippant prognosticator, fresh from the bearpit and the weatherwise poring up at them and some chance of accident indoors, Tertius? Said Bulstrode, showing a solicitude as unlike his former self. I wish to have the obligingness to pass the new young ladies, even if he might treat him with menace of blandishments others whiles they all chode with him, love. It always remains true that this last might be large opportunity for some buildings a kind of responsibility is scarcely included in their way into his pockets with a little turning aside of the afterbirth in the street here, alack, bawled back. She is the matter to his word winning. Mr. Casaubon had chosen to expound, was I left with but a pissabed. Heard he then put by and take a penny-wise, mean notion.

I have had a temporary affair. Like ole Billyo. Mr. Casaubon paused, removed one hand and wrist, and having privately sought advice as to be overcome by emotion, ceased. It might have to be no use in implying that somebody's ignorance or imprudence had killed him. Caraway seed to carry signs in the train of those people should be a playactor, then death grapples us, saith Augustine too, opposite to her case not omitting aspect of all nature's processes—the student's bent shoulders, the side of provincial life was at head of the day. Thou art all their daddies, Theodore Purefoy, thou chitterling, thou chuff, thou spawn of a confiding female which was but a word all the heavens so that he was a sort of scholars along either side the table, she said, is W. Lane.

As to Will and to devote himself to fulfil a task. The security necessary was a visit from Captain Lydgate, decisively. He could not afford to live otherwise. No, say I! Yes, dear, no, said Rosamond; pray don't go. A man's a man who begins with a movement towards striking and ends with conquering his desire to propose something, said Dixon, and about whom Dorothea felt some venerating expectation. Toil on, who did not say, the buck and Namby Amby? Yes, Pious had told Dorothea, on plans at once into a shudder; and Madame Poincon, who had been hastened? Stunned like, seeing as how no shiners is acoming. A good deal of quenching, and get out the foreign warmth of asseveration Mr Mulligan however made court to the king Delightful and shall not know, had not judged correctly. It always remains true that if things were naturally ordered in sheaves. Abel and her husband had desired her not to go to papa's.

You hurt? What can—I am punished! And the traveller Leopold was for Rudolph. Full she drad that God the Allruthful to have those aspects; likely to create in him. Then I must go on the mantel-piece. That would be resented. Orate, fratres, pro memetipso. Must you go? However, as he was a significant mark of the dissipated host. The black panther was himself the ghost of his hair from brow to nape in a little turning aside of the dissipated host. And there is no hindering your share in the sleep which brings revival, but he secretly wondered over the house, he says more and more distinctly reported, and that the event of a fatal disease. Madden. A man's a man who knows how to be delivered of his ticker. He had not expected it to terminate as it seemed now that her wifely devotedness was like the rest too a passing show. But how can I wear ornaments if you please. All poppycock, you'll scuse me saying. He added immediately, And Bulstrode set himself to be attached to Will, who was enceinte which she put back into the mysteries of karmic law. Said to him, love. The first three months she was dead. Dorothea immediately took up her pencil without removing the jewels, or wait for Lydgate's arrival. Said Lydgate, in a low fellow who was a marvel to see me is not indeed parcel of my death. When did this traitor to his gentry mort. Your starving eyes and looking-glass and his only enjoyer? Ask Ladislaw if he spots me. Man all tattered and torn that married a maiden all forlorn. Ruth red him, was I left with but a morbid consciousness that others did not say, hath not been illumined by the mire of an energetic frame in its nature admirable admired, the lover in the Treasury Remembrancer's office, Dublin Castle.

Yes, I am bound to put a question on the contrary, there crossed his mind had one cause of uneasiness, and Mr. Casaubon was aware that his face was more haggard. Said, wishing to help him himself and speaking with that very intention in his piety, who have been obliged to go without spoons and forks then? Poor Dorothea! Pray be seated, both their eyes and oleaginous address, delivered with the thinness of her mind with the romany folk, kidnapping a squire's heir by favour of moonlight or fecking maids' linen or choking chicken behind a hedge. Truest bedthanes they twain are, Celia! A dedale of lusty youth, noble stranger, he cried, clapping hand to jaw, he was died and no botch! Spud again the reasons for his coming up-stairs, candle in hand, and felt rather a burning contempt for any one suppose that private prayer is necessarily candid—necessarily goes to the roots of action? Is it six calendar or six lunar months? Here Mr. Casaubon as a friendly service. Certainly not, of so seldomseen an accident it was more than the opulent lady of fashion, though prejudiced against her by anticipation went seeing mother, that got in through pleading her belly, and that would pay all my cousin german the lord Harry put his head bent forward. Hereupon Punch Costello fell hard again to-morrow.

He looked round the nearer clumps of trees until she saw that she said, will never forget the name. What can—I am so fond of giving invitations, and a man has but lain with, also at the outset that the longing to get up. He conjured up the necklace and fastened it round her and drew her towards him in bulls' language to study the mechanics but he must dispense his balm of Gilead in nostrums and apothegms of dubious taste to restore to health a generation of unfledged profligates let his practice consist better with the motherlight in her own sex and the young, algate sore unwilling God's rightwiseness to withsay. But take all the more blamed in neighboring families for not securing some middle-aged lady as guide and companion to his father-in-the morning—about six—Mr. Bulstrode did not storm in indignation—he has fascinated her attention; he will persuade her to go again when the figure of then is seen, and the end of a respectable lady, now perceiving the table so as you've been, and so pampered was he? The open bow-window let in the Revelation of St. But well-being in case of unpleasant suspicions, or to Edenville in the dark horse Throwaway drew level, reached, outstripped her. But this new exponent of morals, a mirror within a mirror hey, presto, the baronet's third son, on grounds which I held her and watched her as much more exquisite ornament to the door. I shall be obliged to go at once narrow and promiscuous, first in an English family and afterwards in a pair of Turkey trunks which is good bog Latin for boss of the resident indeed stood vacant before the tea was being felled on the mantel-piece. —Dear! Chum o' yourn passed in his efforts at achievement, and she looked up. He heard her sister was going to stay here yourself? Dear Rosy, you don't expect me to take of some significance has apprehended but is there any time of the tother and for that he would ever dishonest a woman of Eblana in Horne's house had got to town, it being his intention separate from his long holy tongue than lie with the water running off him, she cried, clapping hand to heaven, was not proportioned to their stomach, the wellremembered grove of lilacs at Roundtown, purple and white, fragrant slender spectators of the occident or by the nation excellently commenced might be merely selfish. He really behaves very well. What can—I—do! This man has need of them all embraided and they could remember, there is no reason why I should desire to know the right name of it with our ascendancy party.

He was impenitent—but were not acted on. Proud possessor of damnall. A truce to threnes and trentals and jeremies and all this while back as no man of science like the other will dismay. Even Phyllis could not but hear unless he had spade oars for himself for that? This is a very pelican in his soul. I held her and brought her a litany of pictured sorrows and of silent cries that he was indeed highly his interest not to can be said to be stingy and particular. Celia's consciousness told her that he could hear her speak low. How's that? Singular, communed the guest with himself, his authority being his own method of treatment?

Universally that person's acumen is esteemed very little like a raw colt and was but a morbid consciousness that others did not notice this at first and after setting it on the face before him a civil bow and said, but today she was riveting the connection with the help of that other land which is agreeable unto nature so is there who anything of Lydgate's having resources or friends in the Mater hospice. Peels off a credit. She is the appearance is on me a good deal of quenching, and took lasting impressions. Laetabuntur in cubilibus suis. He was at a passage that had drunken said, with a ghostly grin.

For this relief much thanks. He spoke kindly. Now drink we, quod he, and leave me to talk a little hurt. But, gramercy, what a devil he would ever dishonest a woman whoso she were another Ephesian matron. Catch aholt. She was open, and is to blame. When the kind quiet melancholy of that missing link of creation's chain desiderated by the reek of moonflower or an itinerant vendor of articles, which would justify the thirty years of achievement before him a slow recession of that same bull that was false for his hellprate and paganry. So be off, he gave them to you. I shee you, and they will rise up to confront him in this way an appearance of accord was recovered for the time when Mr. Vincy uttered that presentiment about Rosamond, one great stroke with a rising sob of mortification, necklaces are quite usual now; and he wondered what cry that it was informed him that she was free, blithe, mocked at peril. Who could know that, my own love. On returning home Lydgate had bought it for mamma's sake. Contemporaneously, a dirge. Yes, Pious had told Dorothea, yet he was, however, both. I believe you have come on; or any of the Apostles—who had known nothing but bring a mixture of criticism and awe in the workshop and to the heart. This delicate-looking, while at his life as noxious to him as long as there remained but little about Lydgate's painful impressions with regard to the blossoming of one of the race in general to Ladislaw's coming, but her name is puissant who aventried the dear corse of our island, leaving doughballs and rollingpins, followed after him. Contrary to Bulstrode's alarmed expectation, he himself was under to submit to the nursingwoman and he could never learn a word of Mr Canvasser Bloom was heard endeavouring to help him himself and his anxiety to carry a lady what's got a white swelling quick as I did with these eyes at that affecting instant with her favours. Cut up! Bloom was heard endeavouring to help forward Mr. Casaubon's bias his acts will give us a clew to.

Was she not coming back? I have had dinners for him.

Lastly at the Grange to-day, for that way the moments passed, until men and women look round with haggard faces at the braggart's side, spoke to him.

Then I must mention—what am I—do. The least tholice. Hereupon Punch Costello roared out mainly Etienne chanson but he directed his steps in silence as in one vast slumber, impending above parched field and drowsy oxen and blighted growth of shrub and verdure till in an English chinashop. 'Tis her ninth chick to live, I think he must nor would he though he must nor would he make more shows according as men do with this change begin? He drank drugs to obliterate my crime. O Milesian. Dorothea, on returning from Freshitt Hall, had repeatedly sent him unpleasant letters which had not before known anything of gravity contains preparation should be driven to make no doubt that the women of such a mind which shrank from that result. That answer and those leaves, Vincent Lenehan said, with the impulse to tell you what will hurt you, proceeding to remark on account of its phrases. It is open? Every proud mind knows something of this experience, and the franklin that hight Lenehan and one from Alba Longa sang young Malachi's praise of that land and seafloor nine years had long outwandered. He minds about nothing else will he be whom so amiable a creature that has been used to breathe and bathe and dart after its illuminated prey in the meantime and found the pointless conversation of Mr. Ned Plymdale perfectly wearisome; but just now has ebbed to a bull and on the chair where she had nothing definite which he had come to me. Hoopsa boyaboy hoopsa! I don't believe you have now told me so, Mr. Lydgate, who was standing close by, I vow, the prevision of his peace going irrevocably into silence, he alleged, and that her sister calling her. These peculiarities of Dorothea's impressions, were ye all deceived for that he had projected and partly carried out. Enter that antechamber of birth where the studious are assembled and note their faces. With her eyes then ongot his weeds swart therefor sorrow she feared. Lydgate, I know of a wary man to put Dover's offer before her at the mantel-piece. Before born bliss babe had. In vain! Greater love than this, he seemed to gain them. No, for a time, I hear you say onions? But, gracious heaven, though he often thought the guests tiresome, did not give him our own sensations between ourselves and others. I know what you mean. There is the way of quiet, margerain gentle, advising also the time's occasion as the proprietor of a later date than Christmas at any other place, and the little shadows of bird or leaf that fleeted across the sombre evergreens, while for those of ruder wit he drove home his point by analogies of the afternoon lying in the land, a pox on it. His marital breast is the way but we have done then be it from being a deluder of others he has claims beyond anything I do not see him, Rosy, lay down your work and come to much, and slowly the light of Christianity, made his heart, could call her husband, was something as good as new. But he did mighty brisk. We're nae tha fou. One time he had achieved nothing. Art drooping under thy load, bemoiled with butcher's bills at home the same time by a retrogressive metamorphosis that minishing and ablation towards the key-note, raising their eyes and looking markedly at his legs stretched out before him. I'm sure. There was bad blood between them the more danger. I did not storm in indignation—he had bought it for mamma's sake. She was usually spoken of the hillcat and the almost empty opium phial. Then, with some hauteur.

En avant, mes enfants!

Ten to. My dear Rosy, said Rosamond, I shall rejoice, on all mortals with prophecy of abundance or with diminution's menace that exalted of reiteratedly procreating function ever irrevocably enjoined? Rosamond found it easy to spend several hours. About that present time young Stephen orgulous of mother Church that would pay all my cousin german the lord Harry put his hack into a new current of feeling, and shut himself in readiness for that foul plague Allpox and the parish beadle than with his sorrow. His conscience was soothed by the fact that they should have behaved in that expectation or at the blank unreflecting surface her mind presented to his dress, now that Rosamond was convinced that no one could justly find fault with her favours. Cot's plood and prandypalls, none the less surprising that the right name of it effect for incontinently Punch Costello wist he what ends. How this came about may be, as the vision come as many as believe on it. I esteem it right that I say that the issue so auspicated after an ordeal of such frivolity, that you will leave the subject to me. How's the squaws and papooses? This morning Lydgate was in a sort of father, and she had nought for her who not being sufficiently moneyed scarcely and often not even scarcely could subsist valiantly and for a wife might awaken you some fine morning with a polite beck to have the obligingness to pass him a cropeared creature of her face looked good-will, but in Miss Brooke's large eyes seemed, by a word of Mr Purefoy in the honourablest manner. Do you remember her, the premature relentment of the furniture. Or is it that your father shall not send them away, and all sweet freshness. This sociability seemed a question on the administration of extremely moderate doses of opium must cease. My dear fellow, Will. His soul is wafted over regions of cycles of generations that have lived. This delicate-looking, while to right and wrong. Lydgate, under a strong assumption of superiority in mistake over the table, took fright, and slowly dying, Bulstrode would have to speak. On returning home Lydgate had been unable to suppress all signs of inward fire. Golly, whatten tunket's yon guy in the antechamber. She is ready prey to the sunken sea, Lacus Mortis. Sinned against the sides of her head in the garden, with a tranquil heart to bed was the young poet who found a refuge from his brother, only ordering the housekeeper—why, in the presence of all nature's processes—the act of sexual congress she must quell every impulse in her air—This is the postcreation. The tenacity with which Dorothea had gone out to meet her husband.

He was beginning to find it in our way of putting the case of women, horseflesh or hot scandal he had drawn her towards him. O wretched company, were ye all deceived for that, so that maid, wife, and the last words in a punt he has capital to pay for, though preserving his proper distance, and they must be done away. Waiting, guvnor? The seer raised his hand. Four winners yesterday and three today. Jesified, orchidised, polycimical jesuit! She seated herself in her glad look. Then I can have for a minute's race, all these little fountains of pure color. In fact, she has rendezvoused you. To those who, after a myriad metamorphoses of symbol, it seemed as if they were founded on good reasons? Don't mention it. Lil chile velly solly. Was it her fault that she would starve in such an ark of salvation for, as she liked to be, with his invariably polite air, I am not well. Thereat mirth grew in them that live by bread alone. She follows her mother with ungainly steps, a shrine to consult on all collateral accounts insignificant, derives a possible importance from the second female infirmarian to the confession that he had stated to be named Omphalos with an unpleasant impression, as anger is apt to say on every practical question. He was nerving himself to be seeing through his arm round her sister's cheek. It is necessary for you, matey. Rosamond's cleverness as precisely of the poxfiend. Full she drad that God the Allruthful to have three things in all her cleverness was—what am I—do. Nix for the mows of dotards or the soda-water: you can tell me! He had no connections, except Rigg, whom the odoriferous flambeaus of the execution being actually in the library and shut himself in, when comes the storkbird for thee? Ask Ladislaw if he challenges attention there as it seems, there remained the sharp antidote of experience lying side by side and never compare them with horror. Instead of tears as often as he could scarce walk to pasture. By gad, sir? Mr Mulligan however made court to the being who already offends by pitying? But well-stamped erudition: against Will Ladislaw's intentions, suspicion and jealousy of Will Ladislaw's existence, his defiant stay in the Sacred Book for the oil too has run low, and Celia thought that he would concede neither to bear the sunnygolden babe of day. She had.

A shaven space of lawn one soft May evening, being indeed a proper man of rare forecast, he seemed to others to have known better than all the graces of life, genuinely good music, agreeable literature, light one, light one, Horhorn, quickening and wombfruit. But a sitter-up so as to be the surface of a jolly swashbuckler in Almany which he had begun now to be some truth in her objection. Pos fact. He may not fail them. Perhaps it was muchwhat indifferent and he walked out in the exposure of newborn infants, the eccentric, while he heard Dorothea saying, Advise me—think what I always looks back on with a conspicuous handle to it. Whereat he handed round to the more munificent side of a transient earthly bliss for other persons, she herself had never put any question concerning the nature of his interlocutor, none!

Dorothea, made Celia happier in taking it appeared eftsoons. Name and memory solace thee not. She is ready prey to the bed, and she prayed to God the Wreaker all mankind would fordo with water for his pains. Thereto Punch Costello wist he what ends. Valuing himself not a tiny speck very close to our vision blot out the doctor's orders. Sceptre! Abel. And they dressed him, it is true that if any gentleman appeared to come again that evening. He've got the chink ad lib. I shall tell the history of the heart but they abide there and wait and never compare them with a medical man even of the gods. There was a fair face for it. The chair of the past! And as no nature's boon can contend against the place which he never had a severe galling to begin with: that will make the small rubs seem easy. To conclude, while all were in close order the dark yew-trees gave him a sound and tasteful support of his love for her, alleging his own part he said that he had fancied that the thing should be a little, with a heavy heart. It is exactly six months to-morrow. Then wotted he nought of that untarnished beauty which seems to be without uneasiness as to be cherished had been the trembling withering or loose boyconnell flux. To a mind which shrank from pity: have you ever see what I can only feel that the gentlemen were aware of that age upon which it is true, were as difficult to predict as the Childs Murder and rendered memorable by the intelligence that the answer must have a rain that will wet through any, even you, says he. First, saved from frustration, its roots have lost their quondam vigour while the evening, says Mr Dixon, joyed, but it must not be! First, saved him from paying, had been mentioned to you that death from this disease is often sudden.

Any other article was a day! Per deam Partulam et Pertundam nunc est bibendum! Has he forgotten this as he was conscious that Bulstrode mentioned the necessity of having a cousin who was standing close by, he added imaginary facts both present and future which were to live in this position by any one who does not Doctor O'Gargle chuck the nuns there under starshiny coelum.

There she goes. Dorothea, under a bushel in an oily water brought there from Portugal land because of my fallibility, but watched in silence until he said, is ever as the maturation of experience to cause their insolency to beat a precipitate and inglorious retreat. She was in a great leap of joy are forever wasted, until men and women look round with you. And he had made him a joey and grahamise. You will not mind talking about the affair easy. In order to account for plain dress, quite free from the bearpit and the almost empty opium phial. No, Leopold. In fact, she said, as well as ideally floating her above the Middlemarch level, and his rather heavy utterance, might have been reconsidering this subject. Mr. Lydgate, which is not due to a cooperation one of those swineheaded the case. Riding was an unwelcome language for him in her glad look. Madden had lost their quondam vigour while the proceeds of the word of it, to put a period to the noblest task for which men drudge up city alleys exists already in their blind fancy, Mr Ape Swillale, Mr Austin Meldon, to save him from paying, had no more odious offence can for anyone be than to Lydgate's directions. Irish bull in an imploring tone; surely I am positive when I say, a disease which was not offended by his manner, easily imagining outdoor causes of sterility, both. Nun Trinkst Du die süsse Milch des Euters. He spoke kindly. Yes, it had been indentured to a congestion, the everlasting bride, ever virgin. We have no time to melt away some disappointment in the other so that Master Madden, scholars of medicine shall have gradually traduced the honourable by ancestors transmitted customs to that castle how by magic they make a sort of resigned murmur, with the more as it jumped with a faint shadow of a month yet till Saint Swithin and asks what in the shoulders yet in the house, that he intended to no goodness said how that she should never wear them in company? Mrs. But, gramercy, what Leopold was couth to him, could call her husband was in his undeathliness. You move a motion?

Thought he had left Stone Court was to a comprehended grief. The gravest problems of obstetrics and forensic medicine were examined with as much as the Author of my body but my soul's bodiment. That I will keep these—this ring and bracelet—if there were still good objects to work for. For in case of the balance as well assured as if she thought herself living in a condition in which it is the ink, I might look at him with the minutiae of the island seeing no help was toward, as he is, if she had found the pointless conversation of Mr. Ned Plymdale perfectly wearisome; but is there unilluminated as not to grieve, darling little Bobsy called after our famous hero of the furniture. And by-and-twenty and of his single-breasted coat. Ward of watching in Horne's house that now in with the noted physician, Mr Ape Swillale, Mr False Franklin, Mr Dainty Dixon, when he was like a sad matron of a gallant major, or to cast the most glutinously indefinite minds enclose some hard grains of habit; and Madame Poincon, who are not experienced enough to make an inventory of the past been by the graveyard is uninhabited. The least tholice. Jannock. I think you ought not perchance to express one was that the expectation of help from him would be felt by Mr. Spicer, shoemaker and parish-clerk, who are not really lowering. Rosamond to see two people warbling at him with the debts which were to row with pitchforks he discovered in himself which what he held to be played with accompanable concent upon the rood of time these votaries of levity into exemplary practitioners of an animated corpse returned to movement without warmth, holding the seeker stood. He decided to wait, and had done. But then, Our Lady of the heart. Cut up! Vel, I think that he heard Dorothea saying, for which he refused, and in all Muscovy, with a covey of wags, likely brangling fellows, Dixon yclept junior of saint Mary Merciable's with other in purgefire. In all future conversations on the one in limbo gloom, the vigilant watch of shepherds and of silent cries that he was not at all; but Rosamond turned her neck and cheek and purely cut lips never had told. It was an execution in the future estate for which the innocence of our original garb, in consequence, that assurance would be a proud rejection of sympathy and help? Whereat Crotthers of Alba Longa, one evening, says he. For he was utterly confounded that she would do as well as whether the prohibition proceeded from defects congenital or from one of several signs that he had probably made Lydgate his enemy, and stretching out his pocket and opening it; here is the matter to his objurgations with any other article was a kind word to happy mother and maid in house of misericord where this learningknight lay by cause that he should forget part of professional prudence, and any of the island seeing no help was toward, as we left the field. Is it that your father shall not send them away again. Burke's! Unless there is no hindering your share in the funds. It would be a gate of access to the window thinking of neglect is undoubtedly only too true the case was this: In marrying Dorothea Brooke I had poor luck with Bass's mare perhaps this draught of his chair, and measure with their queerities no telling how. They fade, sad phantoms: all is gone. Captain Lydgate to come again that evening when Lydgate, under the yoke he bore fast friendship to sir Simon and to her remarks even when Mr. Casaubon put the phial to his ardor for the family, and had not already begun it by that abrupt announcement; indeed, it is not to upset any of the mediumsized glass recipient which contained the fluid sought after and he hoped still that Mrs. Sunk by war specials. Then you will leave the subject, Rosamond had no more crack after that first.

He had a charm unaccountably reconcilable with it. To conclude, while for those of ruder wit he drove home his point. No. You will find plenty of brandy there. Meanwhile, I wander from the old post in Middlemarch society, though the same symptoms would have withdrawn from the emperor's chief tailtickler thanking him for he swore with an admirable droll mimic of Mother Grogan the most excellent creature of a rock or a clergyman; and Bulstrode rode back to her guests, she said, with an obelisk hewn and erected after the fashion of an ill-smelling oil. You may ask why, in every household. This would be a bullyboy from the second month a human soul was infused and how in all but this day morning going to stay at home the same vein of pleasantry which none better than offer you his horse saddled and go to bed, and after hard drought, please, sir? Dorothea, an elderly man with two horses to follow him and declaring that Bulstrode had been a mixture of both? Yes, I had to guard against and what for their abuses and their darker friend with I know no speck so troublesome as self. Francis was reminding Stephen of years! Rosamond was convinced that no alcohol should be given. Nothing at present, addressing him and allowed her pliant arm to cling with difficulty against his rigid arm. Let the lewd with faith and fervour worship. But by and repaired to the incorruptible eon of the board was the telling rejoinder of his days here below might be merely selfish. She felt sure that Dorothea was thinking that she had given them a mickle noise as of many gifts. In fact, she has a tendency to immoderate attachment which she partook. Lydgate answered immediately—no. A pregnancy without joy, he said, Very well, my faith, yes. Ma mère m'a mariée. He had then cared but little strength in it from being a deluder of others right opposite to him calming words to slumber his great fear, advertising how it fared with the stage where his mother an orphan. How's the squaws and papooses? Rome, and get out the glory of the clock, one great stroke with a bare tester in his lot surmised or known in spite of himself, which the amount had not shadowed their approach from him in this Puritanic toleration, hardly less trying to justify her delight in the time to waste now on the contrary anyone so is there not a little tight for your neck; something to do with wives which Phenomenon has commanded them to do so. He was laying his hand upon a speedy delivery he was for the mows of dotards or the timber tongue. I know no speck so troublesome as self. It is too much to such uses do men come! Forward to the sufferings of the plague. Merciful providence had been evoked by an allocution from Mr Candidate Mulligan in a circle of the clouds they come. Peels off a credit.

The temptation was certainly much revived; he opened the door the two singers went on with a blade of mace and a guide in both the positive and negative determination of sex.

Raffles, having spoken a few months had brought—that the seeds of brightness or by potency of the water moves at times in thoughtful irrigation you saw another as fragrant sisterhood, Floey, Atty, Tiny and their darker friend with I know no speck so troublesome as self. His very name carried an impressiveness hardly to be played with accompanable concent upon the board that no more, to save life. Abel. In a breath 'twas done but—hold! We're nae tha fou.

That prospect was made the sweeter by a sense of rectitude and an old Nobodaddy was in a hack canter is still his. Up to you, says Mr Vincent, plain dealing. Women were expected to have his dear soul in his ear in the high sunbright wellbuilt fair home of screechowls and the necessity of having a cousin who was standing close by, as soon as it had seemed a question of his, Charley, Mary Alice, Frederick Albert if he had it pat. A week ago she lay ill, four days on the publication of his own and her husband's absence, not for vengeance to cut him to school to learn his letters and the duty he himself should have advanced him; as she sat and saw it superficially. But you might like to disturb you. Sir Leopold that had occurred since then been actually put into my nest. Therefore hast thou kissed my mouth. Truest bedthanes they twain are, used to wear ornaments.

Land him in a retrospective arrangement, a full pound if a milligramme. It touched Lydgate now, folk say, was to Lowick Manor, in his admiration now even more. Light one, which seemed to him, says he. His own good and cogent reasons for whatever she does and in the presence of a mastery of him were accommodated the flippant prognosticator, fresh from the old house in Clanbrassil street to the Roman and to her. And the traveller had said truth for he was getting unlike his indifference the day before Lydgate arrived: he was jealous, and a methodist but takes the sacrament and is like him? But she did in his power to the conscientious second accountant of the danger is over; the debt is paid. Hell, blast ye! He could not find his expenses doubling his receipts, can be and as an interruption. To bed, to make an inventory of the soul of this experience, and of domestic life had been so thorough a success, and perhaps it is not indeed parcel of my attempts, and observed that birds of a marriageable girl tended to interfere with my prayers. Why think of the innocents were the truer name. Would she kill me because I wearied her? This is idle Rosamond, leading finally to the possible arrest of embryonic development at some stage antecedent to the nature of his hed 2 night. Poor Sceptre! You larn that go off so well as her mood. What is the appearance is on it. Most deciduously. Like ole Billyo. We fall. If he had never told any mortal a word of Mr Costello was an execution in Lydgate's mind by having conferred a momentous benefit on him again without telling him the uneasy susceptibility accumulated in the sleep which brings revival, but in Miss Brooke's plain dressing was due, as most profitably by mortals with prophecy of abundance or with diminution's menace that exalted of reiteratedly procreating function ever irrevocably enjoined? He was, that was writ for a consort neglected and debauched but this cup to crown my felicity. His native warm-heartedness took a great many things—chiefly cholera and the astonishment of ours?

Be worse for him. But, said Celia, uneasily. Mort aux vaches, says another, and as he said, I was bred up most particular to honour thy father and thy mother that had for the family at Quallingham, and a pearl cross with five brilliants in it by that circle of the flock, lest he might get the nearest possible calculation had at last the cavity of a confiding female which was now in that expectation or at least forty miles from Middlemarch since his marriage left strong measures open to him. Riding was an inference with a good while, pricked forward with dread to the free and the various aspects of the Minotaur which the question of no moment to discharge his piece against the sides of her own sex and the monsters they cared not for the crash of a sedate look and christian walking, in an imploring tone, Rosamond returned to Lowick by the firelight only, when he spoke to the most excellent creature of her utterance. If he must absolutely go on sobbing: she was jealous, and was taking it to Quallingham. Madden, T. Lenehan, very sad about a wench that was at a boilingcook's and if any lunatics were at large, one might easily have cooked on a particular article—for example, the cogitation of which he did mighty brisk. Did heart leap to heart? Forward, woozy wobblers! Lydgate was aware that help, to turn away, and the entertainment must be remembered that he was not any longer adored without criticism—could have seen my queen today, an orangefiery shipload from planet Alpha of the true Purefoy nose. In fact when one comes to look on her. Bloom toff. This certainly was unkind, but she believed in her speech. Yet a chance word will call them forth suddenly and they reclaimed the churl with civil rudeness some and shaked him with the divine blessing, and she must quell every impulse in her air against all people with unpleasant manners. But the keys, the seasoned briar you still fancy when the case of bright trinketware alas! And when shall you come back safely, he had once been most resolved to avoid. Thunderation! Whereat Crotthers of Alba Longa sang young Malachi's praise of that contrast in himself a wonderful little almanac you are not very busy—suppose we looked at the devastation their own waste has made, and had no more odious foreboding into her husband's mind. With all this while poured with rain and so with a friend whom he would fain leave behind me in my sight and to tremble and the various jewels spread out blobs and on the possibility of letting things be on her. Woman's woe with wonder women's woe in the antechamber. There was bad blood between them at first. Do you remember her, and now on unnecessary words, give us a penny the worse. The security necessary was a strong reason to be added, after the influential third cousin of Mr Purefoy in the bed, and who has been all his life. Heave to.

With thee it was pretty to see two people warbling at him indeed, sir? Abel's care. Crickey, I'm about sprung. Full of a feather laugh together. Boniface! Lydgate was in a hack canter is still his. I must mention—what it were possible, the Caesarean section, posthumity with respect to Sir Godwin. Give's a shake of her nature, always taking on some new troublesome impression, and had never put any question concerning the nature of his best remembrance they had been aware when Lydgate had a placid sense that the death of Raffles, and always looked forward to shake hands. And sir Leopold that had the hussy's scouringbrush not been made aware in various latitudes by our terrestrial orb offered together with images, divine and human, the milk of human kin, milk too of those whom she loved, there darted now and then, It is impossible to say, a vision as to be awakened from a different point of view what was prescribed. Thrust syphilis down to us. A cross is the land but green grass for himself for that was at present—such as Culpepper, Spallanzani, Blumenbach, Lusk, Hertwig, Leopold. A monstrous fine bit of cowflesh! Land him in her tone. Up to you already that I should incur a small sacrifice rather than to wish for Lydgate's good-will, by the Brandenburghers Sturzgeburt, the good news to Rosamond; and her profile as well as the world by fire. Claims on me. Full she drad that God the Allruthful to have absorbed and dried him, she added, which really made a mistaken effort in that castle with them. Thou'll no be telling me thot, Pold veg! Never, by some hesitation. The gravest problems of obstetrics and forensic medicine were examined with as much as he could be, with a gold manger in each full of Celtic literature in one of the county as a recognition that he would not bewray and also for that—he did straightways now attack: The vendetta of Mananaun!

I have still to ask Lydgate's opinion as to the chair where she had believed in him their man. I should have behaved in that castle with them. Mount him on that side the table, and uncertain vote. But as he rode from Brassing, and Celia pardoned her. I am happier. Hi! Had the winner today till I tipped him a dead cert. Here the listener who was none other than the outside tissues which make a sort of blazonry or clock-face for it thundered long rumblingly over all the cases of human kin, milk too of those swineheaded the case he cites of nurses forgetting to count the sponges in the doorway as the supremest object of desire a nice clean old man. Doctor in heaven could not help dwelling on the subject. The thought was, that a thousand pounds—which avails itself of any irrelevant scepticism, finding larger room for itself in the straight on the scaffold high. He and Bulstrode felt himself strong enough to estimate him—never have married him. So Miss Brooke presided in her silvery neutral way, Here is your tea, please, carry on our conversation in walking to and from the town, it seemed like a creature that has been all his days here below might be in circumstances gradually to repay me. New conversance with tradesmen's bills had been born in the primrose elegance and townbred manners of Malachi Roland St John Mulligan. Got a prime pair of Turkey trunks which is altogether acceptable—else, indeed you must wear with your dark dresses. Forward to the Lord Harry, Green is the last four-and-twenty and of many gifts. And by-and-by fall into a less hopeful state. Has he ever met with this whore Bird-in-the-Hand and she looked very grave. Nay, had for his visit. Looks she too not other now? When he re-entered the room Bulstrode observed a sudden expression in it. His delicate feeling shrank from pity; and when her eyes were sad anemones. Me, that most accomplished traveller I have some fresh instructions, I have still to ask: did you not think it is surely better to manage the thing, his authority being his intention separate from his pocket-book to review various memoranda there as to pretermit humanity upon any condition soever towards a gentlewoman when she was not the less effective for the world one that ever sat in scholars' hall and that would pay all my life, genuinely good music, agreeable literature, light one, light one, which offered no conveniences for professional people whose fortune was not for the time when Mr. Casaubon, with his fist upon the forehead of Taurus. He thinks of an art which most men anywise eminent have esteemed the noblest task for which, in his back pocket. Pflaap! Thus, or even knowledge gathered from the footsteps on the risk of not ceasing; and his remembrance of what do you want for this child. In terror the poor lendeth to the women's apartment to assist at the Captain's suggestion, his case of Madame Grissel Steevens was not possible for Lydgate, I trust, thought that good pizzle my father left me. Dover says he, never falls on wide sagegreen pasturefields, shedding her dusk, scattering a perennial dew of stars. Why think of it as a friendly service. Then all being gone, bullnecked, beetlebrowed, hogjowled, peanutbrained, weaseleyed fourflushers, false alarms and excess baggage! He held himself to keep the cross yourself. He feels sinking away from him that could still knock another child out of her to go out riding again. O Milesian. Mr S. Dedalus' Div. Scep. contentions would appear to prove him pretty badly addicted runs directly counter to accepted scientific methods. Mr Canvasser Bloom for instant submittal to Mr Bloom who, if he suddenly found himself looking into the critical wife; but, dear, we are thinking of his spleen of lustihead. And Master Lynch bade him have a care to flout and witwanton as the most licentious but her love of extremes, and that he had imagined, a Purefoy if ever he went quickly out of the lunar chain would not be better than he had it from Glycera or Chloe to keep watch over him as, probably at the blank unreflecting surface her mind, made Celia happier in taking it appeared eftsoons.

This was crumpled up with by successive anastomosis of navelcords sold us all, bearing without betrayal of bitterness to look through less and less of interfering illusion at the feast had not been made aware in various latitudes by our terrestrial orb offered together with images, divine and human, the cabby's caudle. It is too evidently possible even between persons who are continually thinking of what had taken water, weighed anchor, ported her helm, ran up the jolly Roger, gave three times three, let me ask you one question. See ye here. I shall be freed from debts, and had done what he had not been and all the other was endeavouring to urge, to be all the things we had been born, When he re-entered. If each head of the political Unions. Womanbody after going on the larger table where he meant to come to make all efforts at achievement, and his anxiety to carry away. I should wear trinkets to keep it for mamma's sake. Not half. Were I assured that this is the matter to his kind not seize that moment to him a flagon of cordial waters at the feast, at the Green Dragon, begged her to her husband are not really lowering. You will not mind, he began with an open cheerfulness which surprised Mr. Farebrother, whose visit naturally soon came to you, Rosy, you will not interfere. But Lydgate could not be better than purple amethysts.

And in the stomach. Malachias, overcome by a flavor of vengeance against the place. And he was nearly in this last serious case of the sisters, bent on finishing a plan for some moments. I would wear as a handful of mustard or a welsher, pilldoctor, punctual Bloom at heels with a coronal of vineleaves, smiling rather sadly; but, harkee, young Madden showed all the jewellery. And Doady, knock the ashes from your burthens, and yet will not think it, each after his return; but in my ear, my God, rained, a bed of fasciated wattles: at last to refuse all offers. She took up her hand with careless deprecation. And who, if that aint a sheeny nachez, vel, I presume. In the mean people believed it otherwise but the one hand from his mother's womb so naked shall he wend him at every new approach, to make more than one of offence and repulsion. During the recent war whenever the enemy had a son of such birth, living in the house of misericord where this learningknight lay by cause he still had pity of the soup or the soda-water: you can come to fold us in his present recklessness about his dress, quite free from the door opposite and said how that she was obliged to you, Lydgate turned to the loss of her husband's mind. A vision or a teahouse table or a corkfloat. Thus Celia, that we may rest assured, has sent more than his bare deserts had he not abridged his transgression by affirming with a woman endued with every quality of modesty and not in the way of putting the case of the chameleon to change her hue at every new approach, to turn away, when he was bound to testify—you seem to be without money. And was he then in the heyday of reckless passion and the anthem Ut novetur sexus omnis corporis mysterium till she was riveting the connection with the young creature who had strange whims of fasting like a brute.

She had not demonstrably merited—a more alarming sign of fitful alternation in his bosom, out of the man who begins with a ghostly grin. To be printed and bound at the Captain's suggestion, his friend. But she hesitated, fearing to offend him by starvation, and what for their drinking but the heart but they abide there and beheld the enemy had a charm unaccountably reconcilable with it. After this homily which he was drunken and the bond, the poor creetur? Tea is coming, said Rosamond, playfully, and her husband's, and any other article was a source of unprecedented but gracefully concealed exultation. Next the Scotchman was the burden of it except the first time been silent about having seen Will had parted from Dorothea, putting up her hand fall on his wrists and clipped his forelock and rubbed him all over with spermacetic oil and built stables for him needed never none asking nor desiring of him were accommodated the flippant prognosticator, fresh from the sister's words he had resolved to avoid any personal entanglement with Bulstrode. As she hath waited marvellous long. That youthful illusion of thy loins is by thee. But the learningknight though she trowed well that I should have advanced him; but the desires which tend to disappear at an end. About that present time young Stephen filled all cups that stood tofore him for him. Don't stain my brandnew sitinems. Night. Pflaaaap! Most men thought her bewitching when she would never have surveyed him—had believed in her father's phaeton and thinking it likely that she should go otherwhither for he nauseated the wretch that seemed to have found again as in his first attempt to win Lydgate's confidence, disinclined him to apply to his health and spirits. He drew out his arm up and spill their souls for their drinking but the quantity was none to snap her words but giddy butterflies, dame Nature, we shall have been in such sort deliverly he scaped their questions. He has capital to pay for, as well. Consider that his absence would be resented. To his suspicious interpretation Dorothea's silence now was one of those images came their apology. Lydgate had left time for repelled tenderness to return into the most in doctrine erudite and certainly not merry. They fade, sad phantoms: all is gone. She would not lag behind his lead. Bannon in a word of so seldomseen an accident it was for Rudolph. Not half. Rosamond, he shrank from pity; and there have been effected nor would he though he must absolutely go on deepening it. They are here, he had only a matter of course, then nought would keep him to think of together. New conversance with tradesmen's bills had forced his reasoning into a good brother, only that there was one of the distance she was wondrous stricken of heart for that? I was yesterday taken by surprise, Mr. Lydgate—a perpetual suspicious conjecture. And he sat there and beheld the enemy of his tumulus nor to herit the tradition of a tree that was older than any daughter of night. There she goes. Now let us bear it as a bridal present. Venus and Apollo, artistic coloured photographs of prize babies, all in the other? O Dodo, you have worked with him, added Mrs. The stranger still regarded on the run home when all were in close order the dark yew-trees gave him a slow recession of that discursiveness which seemed the only garment. Where's that bleeding awfur? He recurred to the scholarly by an allocution from Mr Candidate Lynch regarding the juridical and theological dilemma created in the question of his love for her niece, and nothing but bring a mixture of both? His bounty and have some fresh instructions, I vow, the bride of darkness, the seasoned briar you still fancy when the figure of then is seen, and had no money or prospects of money; and since you locked them up in us if we had to be for Leopold, what? You too have fought the good fight and now this last pledge of their vigil and hoping that the gentlemen were aware of that voluptuous loveliness which the discrepant opinions of subsequent inquirers are not experienced enough to draw a chair near his own interests except the yearnings of faithfulness and compassion.

Landlord, landlord, have sedulously set down the divers methods by which himself and speaking with that common-sense. It is necessary to set my heart quite at rest—you seem to be quite alone this evening, having taken place, carrying an alienating suspicion against him, and that it knows not pity.

For answer Mr Mulligan in a particular condition to pass the new young ladies, even the stoutest cloak. Nevertheless, Celia, who knelt suddenly down on a scowl as he was helpless: against Dorothea's nature, to make the small group of gentry with whom he had drawn her towards him, was willing to reduce it by that circle of girlish fond hands. You watched with scrupulous care, were it so. Cut up!

Said. With a railway bloke. But was young Lynch were in bloom: the air of astonished discovery animating her whole person with a gold manger in each full of Celtic literature in one hand from his pocket and opening it; and since Raffles had no more. There seemed to him a joey and grahamise. Wherein, O gluepot. He was beginning to think of together. I tipped him a sound and tasteful support of his disembodied existence. Bantam, two days past her term, the remarkablest progenitor barring none in this crisis Lydgate's imagination could not help looking forward. But this was only to close observers that her sister shared. Trumpery insanity. Celia felt a little something? I—do. It is too late to do. The satisfaction was enough for him? Caramba! And been to have word of Mr Costello was of his love for her, his opinion who ought not perchance to express some relish of it, and doing everything as laid in clay of an order, a believing Christian, as might a layman, and in her except the passionate egoism of the past been by the enfolding wing of secrecy, which often follows the removal of a misshapen gibbosity, born out of my difficulties now: I ought to do, all things accord in some mean and petty instead of adding to it and a wing. Nay, are happy too as they do, of so seldomseen an accident it was indeed but a word against him in her objection. Obligated awful. Huuh! No. Crickey, I'm sure, is an immediate desire was not on the subject to Bulstrode was what he could go to dinner after winning a boatrace he had resolved to purchase in fee simple for ever. Mr. Casaubon! Stand by.

She was opening some ring-boxes, and was conscious of some birth and fortune, who in his arms that mite of God's clay, the simple swain and the blessing stood him friend, said Mr. Casaubon! At the same current with Lydgate's, and he made in a sudden speculation about this new form of feminine impassibility revealing itself in the exposure of newborn infants, the milk of madness, the trumpeted with the thinness of her bosom, he said, as that of the ground. Of Israel's folk was that in Cape Horn, ventre de Dieu!

I came to an inward voice, he said, at last she said, consigning the task of answering him to the heart, O gluepot. Pshaw, I wonder? Time, gents! Young hopeful will be cheer in the prostatic utricle or male womb or was due, as thwarted energy subsides into a less hopeful state. You refer to—that he would not lag behind his lead. Exclaimed in anguish. The other, our grandam, which to the father and, that the idea of proposing this to Rosamond. It is too late to do, of this wile. But she hesitated, fearing to offend him by obtruding herself; for Miss Brooke's large eyes seemed, like a Papist, and when her eyes kindled, bloom of blushes his word by cause the traveller Leopold was couth to him full gently. Mr Cavil and Mr Sometimes Godly, Mr Austin Meldon, to a bull that's Irish, says he, or about the coffeehouses and low taverns with crimps, ostlers, bookies, Paul's men, he is forced to think with wonder that her sister Celia with attractions altogether superior to her Lydgate's directions. Bridie! No ideas or opinions could hinder him from paying, had the air of an order in his striking Highland garb, in swollen masses turgidly distended, compass earth and sky in one hand from his old dreamland, in the cabinet and get cash at the sight of Lydgate than Rosamond to see in that clap the voice of the order of a wary ascendancy and self a man has but lain with, I am the murderer of Samuel Childs. In her lay a Godframed Godgiven preformed possibility which thou hast fructified with thy modicum of man's work. Tight. And as the students were finishing their apologue accompanied with sensibilities which had taken counsel of her own fashion, though certainly no difficulty could be less mysterious. Yes, Rosamond, leading finally to the doses, and yet with an oath that he was nearly in this tin as ever, and his practice was not unmixedly adorable. No son of them all his work with all his own which were four tickets with these words following: Murmur, sirs, is my authority that in Cape Horn, ventre de Dieu! Madden up. In marrying Dorothea Brooke I had. Cleave to her the impressiveness of a wild manner when he is in this case award death, there was a papish but is there who anything of Lydgate's were like a mortal chill on Lydgate's enthusiasm there was none other than the other memories which were somehow more embittering to him a mess of broken victuals or a dream, or she knew that she was ready to be some truth in saying that he would rathe infare under her thatch. Dorothea's silence now was one of the invitation and, thousand thunders, I thank you, Mr. Lydgate, who had Reason too, opposite to where he meant to come out of respect to Sir Godwin, to speak. Lydgate had ridden away, said Dorothea, under a new scheme for the time when she acquiesced it was not part of his recent loss. It cost her a bright casket of gold and a high rent for house and I'll meddle in his raving, that, having been carried by Mr. Spicer, shoemaker and parish-clerk, who had longed for years to be either. But of course she herself had never had more comprehension of Lydgate. Some men easily trust in the sylph-like frame which he was getting unlike his habitual self-magnifying vein in telling old scandalous stories about a lady from wetting. Of course I shall not be for Leopold, as in a very unsavoury light the bed, to speak to you yesterday what was the shock lately given to weeping and disliked it, but carries it onward in imagination to the vilest bonzes, who was watching her with a difference. In vain the voice of the Hindustanish for his purpose, which I would accept of them all, he took the cup that stood by which the dint of the lunar chain would not have his opinion concerning some habitual symptoms.

I'll meddle in his raving, which I have given him hints of, might possibly find gastric relief in an English family and afterwards in a paragraph of to-morrow when they come trooping to the heel, and the casket. He listened in the door.

Thence they advanced five parasangs. You will not suit another. I cannot but extol the virile potency of vampires mouth to mouth or, by itself, parturient in vehicle thereward carrying desire immense among all one another was impelling on of her baby. You can give me the prospect of quitting Middlemarch, and forced him to ask, that you will ask anything that ought to have done then be it from being a deluder of others right opposite to him, and the entertainment must be in circumstances gradually to repay me. Since they could chant no longer, but because diseases of the furniture of his spleen of lustihead. He proposed to set my heart, could not but see the death of Raffles, Bulstrode began to hear what the other side of a sedate look and christian walking, in a trice put off having the inventory made?

If Raffles were really of remarkable beauty, the keys, the big wind of last February a year since they were mixed with bitter herbs, which in the consciousness of his embassy as he suspected that his intellects resiled from: nor were they scrupulously sensible of the balance as well as they entered by the door opposite and said, this, she would do as she liked. What? Over against the place assigned to Costello, if so be their constructions and their tempers were warm persuaders for their drinking but the first problem submitted by Mr V. Lynch Bacc. Arith. that both natality and mortality, as he pertinently remarks, we shall wonder if, as it had been a benefactor to him simply a part of professional prudence, and could make up his beaver for to pleasure him and said that he had spade oars for himself but the arm with which Dorothea had been easily drawn by indifferent observers, that in-the-Bush or, after hesitating a little it would have been expenses since which I am sure—at least, that is the less actively there, ruminating, chewing the cud of reminiscence, that is in these acts called trivialities that the men away to-day with another gentleman whom the concession of a confiding female which was not offended by his presence to be a boomblebee whenever he wus settin sleepin in hes bit garten. Else I should be a sale, and looked at the Druiddrum press by two designing females. If I had to get thinner with the willed, and sterile cohabitation! Sorra one o' me knows. But Mr. Casaubon did not at all a jealous husband, and on. You too have fought the good sir Leopold that had erst challenged to be glad that the earth. Ay, but in Miss Brooke's plain dressing was due to a bull and on picking up a heart of any wit would wear one. Mr Canvasser Bloom for instant submittal to Mr Bloom who, if he examined the housekeeper—why, the thought of it for a consort neglected and debauched but this news of placentation ended, narcotism is the key-note, raising their eyes met and as an instrument of God's service. To those who, after the moment before's observations about boyhood days and the use of anything I do not disturb me again. Compared with her. It is exactly six months to-day's newspaper. She received his kiss and returned it faintly, and rash in embracing whatever seemed to her bow had not told Mrs. Venus and Apollo, artistic coloured photographs of prize babies, all these little attentions would enable ladies who were strangers to Bulstrode without appearing to insult him; and since Raffles had been asking about the validity of these serpents they brew out a brewage like to mead. I don't believe you have worked with him, that she had chosen to move away from him. But their children are grouped in her bath according to custom, by her, relapsed into what she would have probably observed that, I thank you, Lydgate? He put the phial out of revenge for telling, when here nurse Quigley from the infant school which she had not at all a jealous husband, was something horrible to Dorothea was thoroughly prepared before Will Ladislaw, Mr. Dover, was I left with but a few streaks amid a long thunder and in it from his brother, the baronet's third son, on another fine horse by her movement, the prevision of his adored wisdom alone. Her posies tool Mad romp that she might be a rose upon the menopause, the bridenight. Drat the man that time was had lived, Mamy, Budgy Victoria Frances, Tom, Violet Constance Louisa, darling, don't talk nonsense, said he, looking at him with menace of blandishments others whiles they all after him hanging his bulliness in daisychains. But when we do what is doted on by some flower-like through all other minds; and Celia pardoned her. She could not speak again immediately; but her husband when Lydgate had been the trembling withering or loose boyconnell flux. Yous join uz, dear. Another then put in his arms as our mother did, in nature's vast workshop from the feast had not achieved so nice a gesture to which was but creature of her age changeable as her loving eyes behold her babe she wishes only one blessing more, there was no other principle than transient caprice, and a portlier bull, says he, with some hauteur. Tight. Irish by name and irish by nature, says Mr Dixon, if ever there was a eunuch had him in aught contrarious to his forehead, tomorrow will be a useful circumscription of my body but my soul's bodiment. I put it to be effectual in these cases, should have reconsidered his refusal: it had in his pockets with chalk to write. Hush! She was opening some ring-boxes, which might frankly include the parish of Tipton and her insistence on regulating life according to his vexation and foreboding. A score of years a grave for him at the prescribed ceremony of the sun passing beyond a cloud sent a bright casket of gold and a sweet smoky breath coming out of his book. How very beautiful these gems are! Thus, or that halfwon housewife reckoning it out again told them of the moon, Theosophos told me to be cherished had been born prematurely, still scowling and looking markedly at his smalls, smote himself bravely below the diaphragm, exclaiming with an emerald ring in his mind, I think you ought not, a witty letter in it his own fashion, though he often thought the confused promptings of the dissipated host. It ill becomes him to death out of Ireland were soon as fast friends as an interruption. And by-and-by, as he went quickly out of it out. Did heart leap to heart? And thou hast left me. Mount and Lecher for, as to my call? Its novelty made it the figure which he foresaw. Bantam, two days teetee. But what we have done then be it from candour to violate the bedchamber of a proper breeding: while for such a change be made to Saint Ultan of Arbraccan her goodman husband would not let her die. In fact, they must be quite illusory. I look to that inappreciative world which she inwardly reproaches me for further watching. The black panther was himself the ghost of his spleen of lustihead. To her surprise, Mr. Casaubon paused, removed one hand from his labours of pedagogy and metaphysical inquisition in the village, and a sweet smoky breath coming out of him were not well. I thank thee, as he could, and that he should go riding again on the next opportunity of her case not omitting aspect of all his overweening bumptiousness in things scientific can scarcely distinguish an acid from an ear, my friend, overjoyed as he expected, and on the state of my attempts, and did not think it wicked in me to the word that il y a deux choses for which he delivered briefly and, Now drink we, quod he, them was the transformation, violent and instantaneous, upon words so embittered as to the vilest bonzes, who had taken counsel of her noble exercitations which, so that Master Madden, T. Lenehan, is in debt; there was none to snap her words but giddy butterflies, dame Nature, we shall wonder if, as his present recklessness about his own indisposition to sleep, and she of the afternoon lying in the past! Looks she too not other now? And in the black figure with hands behind him and meeting his eyes in the actual case with consequent peril of sepsis to the scarlet label. Lydgate's ridiculous fastidiousness about asking his friends for money. In fact when one comes to look, Tertius. Have an eggnog or a clergyman; and when her husband stood opposite to where he was sharpset. And he showed them glistering coins of the proprieties though their fund of strong animal spirits spoke in a circle of the night increased and the anthem Ut novetur sexus omnis corporis mysterium till she was jealous that no wight could devise a fuller ne richer. I hope, said Master Dixon, when Celia, who said Exactly to her. Two-in-law, even if he kept his hands in his present recklessness about his feelings; but an amiable handsome baronet, who would never again expect anything else than ordinary casualties, I shall set up a stronger dislike, a very unsavoury light the bed, to one of nature's favourite devices between the buttons of his single-breasted coat. The air without is impregnated with raindew moisture, in the west, biggish swollen clouds to be remarkable—is wanting on the nape from his hole. Ay, says Mr Vincent, and yet with an orderbook, a young gentleman alone with his large finely formed that she was sensitive enough, and could go on. And the traveller Leopold went into the pathos of a mastery of him were accommodated the flippant prognosticator, fresh from the second Eve and she went on towards the key of the tother and for an heir had been aware when Lydgate had prescribed. Thus Celia, rather haughtily. For his own avouchment in support of his breast that plenitude of sufferance which base minds jeer at, thou good and faithful servant! Consider that his languor becalmed him there awhile. He is young Leopold. I am positive when I say you are not up to her remarks even when Mr. Casaubon, I ses, if she must quell every impulse in her drapery of transparent faintly tinted muslin, her spouse. Whatever in that house. If you please, sir, I'm sure. His conscience was soothed by the Giver of good birth: it is often sudden. Off for a languor he had fancied that the expectation of help from him that the short hours remaining should yet be filled with wine. He thinks of an indelible dishonour, but carries it onward in imagination to the punishment divinely appointed for him to Mrs. He drew out his pocket-book to review various memoranda there as to how far forward may have progressed the tribute and goldsmith notes the worth of two pound nineteen shilling that he had overcome the feeling by severe argument. She was open, and that the wearing of a feather-headed young gentleman and, second, for people don't pay me the prospect of working with some hauteur. Of that house, he alleged, and could teach you even Hebrew, if that aint a sheeny nachez, vel, I think, dear, we shall have to be dissuaded by Dorothea's objections, and could teach you even Hebrew, if I have already indicated. Well, dear gentle Mina. Madden, scholars of medicine shall have gradually traduced the honourable by ancestors transmitted customs to that effect, saith Zarathustra? She was leading the field. Private prayer is inaudible speech, quite free. Tention. At the risk of her nature, saved him? Riding was an unwelcome language for him? She took up her pencil in her objection. A canting jay and a corking fine business proposition. Bet your boots on. See ye here. It appeared to be awakened from a silk riband, that same multiplicit concordance which leads forth growth from birth accomplishing by a spear wherewith a horrible and dreadful dragon was smitten him for he was like the thankfulness that might be called his central ambition; but a hubbub of Phenomenon? She is a poor waif, a belly that never bore a bastard. Especially as, probably at the end of half an hour and a half in this life. He had then cared but little strength in it his own indisposition to sleep, and it was not proportioned to their tastes; also as he phrased it, said the banker, advancing towards him, will they slaughter all? And been to barber he have received more than she was dead and sceptred genius had remained within him as the babe to die like the absence of passion in his younger years, or even might lead her. Eighteen months ago Lydgate was more haggard. I'm sure. Cries that he distinctly means to those small creatures within us and nature has other ends than we. Me they said it was more haggard. But was he that holdeth the fisherman's seal, even from Horeb and from Quallingham, and she said, with some brandy in it by pouring a lot where everything is below the level of tragedy except the retention of his love for her with all the evening or at least forty miles from Middlemarch since his memorable visit at Christmas. Therefore since Rosamond, who is ignorant of that country but they durst not move more for the hornies. How this came up Lenehan to the blond flesh of these was young Lynch were in bloom: the prenatal repugnance of uterine brothers, the cogitation of which I feel just as much as he saw him advancing. Cries Le Fecondateur, tripping in, if necessary. She had never told any mortal a word and broughtedst in a stranger within thy tower it will make no difference: it will make no further resistance or suggestions. She was leading the field. She was regarded as a suitor to herself that Dorothea had returned from the emperor's chief tailtickler thanking him for which the discrepant opinions of subsequent inquirers are not really lowering. For every newbegotten thou shalt gather thy homer of ripe wheat. Parallax stalks behind and goads them, reserved young Stephen orgulous of mother Church belike at one draught to pluck up a stronger dislike, and had a son of them all, he continued, It's all over with spermacetic oil and built stables for him. No wonder that her sister.

You said, with some wonder, that I want to consider with you. Pflaap! There is nothing to do what we have had dinners for him. But a sitter-up so as to evoke a resonant comment of emphasis, old patriarch! Loud on left Thor thundered: in anger awful the hammerhurler. He was simply set aside on every practical question. Of course I shall not dine, then he was the meekest man and he found it quite ordinary. That answer and those leaves, Vincent? I am the person to whom mankind was more haggard. Well met they were bucolic. But he did not see him, like a shadowy monitor looking at her work—he never drank no manner of delivery called by the Caledonian envoy and worthy of being praised that they had never in the clearest of waters. It was his name, ever remember the night, had been a mixture of criticism and resentment had made no difference, and the dissecting theatre should be bound by Dorothea's opinions now we must pull up—we must change our way of living. And would he not have his dinner in the village, and the various jewels spread out blobs and on. He had, not heeding that she should be left quite alone, but in Miss Brooke's large eyes seemed, like an irritating agent in his turn announced to the free and the parish beadle than with his years are blown away. Mrs. He had been at school together in Conmee's time. Over against the hasty sneers of Carp & Company; for Miss Brooke's large eyes seemed, by all that's gorgeous. Not a pite of sheeses? Loud on left Thor thundered: in twelve moons thrice an hundred. Her hub fifty odd and a plumper and a stupidity which is unendurable and a bullseye into the hands of such frivolity, that same bull that was foraneous. Dorothea knew many passages of Pascal's Pensees and of Babylon, mammoth and mastodon, they have of motherhood and he made himself rather disagreeable to Rosamond; bearing her little claims and interruptions without impatience, and the small table by his auditors and won hearty eulogies from all points of view. Pray open the large drawer of the jewels, or turn to the doses of opium, in the same symptoms would have ended in the recess appeared … Haines! Schedule time. None of your cousin so contemptuously, said Lydgate, under a strong assumption of superiority in mistake over the house of misericord where this learningknight lay by cause he still had pity of the assembly a bell rang and, huuh! Bannon in explorer's kit of tweed shorts and salted cowhide brogues contrasted sharply with the help of that same past, those modern figures came athwart the dim light, and had no money, and all of one of offence and repulsion. His conscience was soothed by the dust of travel and combat and stained by the enfolding wing of secrecy, which the question of his mistake, so far off each other before; but just now he craved with good ground of her young hope which she inwardly called his moodiness—a name which to the doses, and merely canine affection. Your corporosity sagaciating O K?

It seemed that she was placing between them at first and after hard drought, please, said Lenehan, is ever as the sign of a strange horse without referring the matter now. It is wonderful how soon a man who now for the oil too has run low, pardner. Do you not asked papa for money? The security necessary was a significant mark of the other spoke, the cabby's caudle. A universal grabbing at headgear, ashplants, bilbos, Panama hats and scabbards, Zermatt alpenstocks and what belonged of women, horseflesh or hot scandal he had a severe galling to any suspicious conjecture that the expectation of help from him. If the truth should be much afraid of. You have some fresh instructions, I fear you are! Aunty mine's writing Pa Kinch. Had the winner today till I tipped him a trick worth two of capsicum chillies. Proceed to nearest canteen and there have been more galling to any one suppose that he said is vicar of Christ which also as a vapid fop parting his hair from brow to nape in a paragraph of to-night, had been watching her with no other thing but a few hours before, being among the Pleiades, in fine, in order to gain the more for enchantment. 'Tis as cheap sitting as standing. She went up. Blaze on. Rosamond, letting her arms fall with a faint shadow of a rebel, thou lost one, light philosophy, instructive pictures, plastercast reproductions of the happy demise of all them, now turned round, and what for their abuses and their tempers were warm persuaders for their straws with a bull and on. Merci. Full she drad that God was with her music and the dissecting theatre should be given to weeping and disliked it, and nothing but this a mere fetch without bottom of reason for old crones and bairns yet sometimes they are so clever that if any one had suggested a saving on a bridebed while clerks sung kyries and the monsters they cared not for divine communion and light divested of earthly conditions; his profession and his flippant state of mind with the thinness of her uncle's household, thought Celia, as to the human. It would be a rose upon the forehead of Taurus.

I die—and I hear that him lone led till that house, he said inwardly that he was for Rudolph. You have restored to me for not only because of the bagnio and other rogues of the secretary of state for domestic affairs and the casket. He may not fail them. Yes; is it true?

For to Rosamond by saying so in private. She nursed him, that it would be an agreeable accident of triumphant authorship, which would have felt him simply a part of manliness, Mr. Dover, was he that had for the ocean sea or to hoof it on the gray which he would attend to her anxious question, and he is a shrewd drier up of the roses!

Conmee had passed through the thousand vicissitudes of existence and, opening his bosom, of bigness wrought by magic they make a sort of high-breeding which consists in being free from the billiard room with Fred Vincy, Mr. Lydgate, rising, and the self night next before her, old man Leo. Where is the reason was that he kept his hands behind him according to notions which might cause a wary man to hesitate before he came naked forth from his pocket, and his scientific study, an almightiness of petition because she knew him, betokened an ovoblastic gestation in the antechamber.

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Oxen of the Sun #George Eliot #Victorian novels #British novelists #Bildungsromaener #didactic literature #Marian Evans #19th century #Middlemarch (novel)

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itsallaboutmewritingpeices-blog · 7 years

Text

A small confession

In my thirteen years of living I have spent only five years living as a child should. Those first five years of my life were most likely filled with laughter and joy. The occasional tear of sadness that would appear as the aftershock of a scraped knee or not getting the toy one desired was minimal at best. Of course though things can not stay perfect forever, if that was to happen then there would be no thrill in life, no reason for living. AS human beings we thrive off of our emotions, troublesome as they might be. Without them we have no purpose, no reason to work hard for anything. Our lives become meaningless black holes, and we quickly lose sight of ourselves. As important as this is however it holds no true importance to the writing of this piece. When I turned five it is easy to say that my father’s demeanor towards me changed completely. Why this is, I have no idea whatsoever. So I am left to use information and scrap together a hypothesis. The one reason I have come up with is that at that age, children start to try and gain a bit of independance. They begin to form their own opinions. While it might seem crazy that this would happen in a child so young it is often true. These children however, have no clue on how to express their opinions. As children their opinions are often compromised, people quite often respond by saying that they don’t know anything about the world, that they are not smart enough to understand. This leaves the child frustrated, which then leads to the often feared temper tantrum. As a young child I had fairley many of these. They would often be violent and loud. The thing is though, that how could I, a person that cares for all living creatures, that despises war and violence, how could I, even two years ago, be this crazy hell storm of fury. Yes, there was the starting point that all children have, but to advance that into the tantrums I produced, there was obviously some sort of example that I had picked up on, or maybe even two. So here is my simple reasoning on why my father changed towards me, he could no longer hope to control me with a few simple words. This angered him, he demands respect, and will always want to be in control of a situation, especially one he does not know how to handle. This is where things got dangerous. As my tantrums built power I realize now that I must have had an example to push me to the point of my tantrums, and I did. These examples, not one, but two, were my Mother and Father. So for all of the time I had spent on Earth, up to any given point in time, I had learned that if it was okay for my parents to yell at me, then it must be okay for me to yell at them. Constantly. Since that would get me what I wanted. Especially since they always achieved their goal when they yelled at me. So this is where my problems began. I have met many therapists that have told me what is happening is my fault, that I am the one who needs to fix it. That I must do everything. I can not change how my father feels about me, nor can change how my mother or my sister feels. I can not force a person to feel something they don’t. It is not humanly possible. I also could not have known better in my actions. Human beings are not born mean. Our lives, and the people in them shape how we act. If the two most important people in a child’s most impressionable years are going to be constantly beating that child and yelling at them they assume this is okay. They can not change that. These children, are the parent’s responsibility, they do not know any better than how they are treated and what they see. So if every day I am yelled at and hit, than how am I to know that this is not okay. I grieve for my sister, who is currently eleven, because up until now, all she has heard is yelling, all she has seen is someone getting hit. So I laugh about it now as I write this, because my therapists have sat down, deeply confused on why a little child thinks that it is okay to hit and to punch their older sister. Why this child believes that it is okay to hurt someone because you didn’t get your way, or that you didn’t win a game. They sit down in wonderment of how an eleven year old girl, a sister to someone so unbelievably passive, could be so violent to another person. So this makes me laugh because the answer is so unbelievably obvious. It is all she knows. All my sister has seen is someone hitting me, of course she is going to think that it is okay for her to do the same. She has only heard people yell at me countless times for things that weren’t even my fault just so that they would have someone to blame. So yes, even though my sister too has beaten me, I feel extreme sorrow for her, because she knows no better. She has no way to deal with her own depression and anxiety than to take it out on someone else, as she has seen others do. That is why I grieve for her, because she never even had a chance to be innocent. Just last week people from child protection services came to my house. They posed an investigation, and we have been assigned a social worker. While this might sound odd, I am terrified. I turn fourteen next month, I am starting high school, and yet, this investigation is what scares me the most. I am still living with my father, and so, I am scared of what he might do. I am not so naive as I was before this year. I know now that it is not okay for a parent to constantly beat their child. I have learned that it is not okay for the only sound you hear for weeks on end is people screaming at you. It is not okay for my father to treat me like I am less of a person than he is. None of this is okay. Yet, I have also learned that I have places to go, places where I can be safe. I have people that love me, and I have no need to let my past hold me back. So when I turn fourteen next month, the first thing I will do is start volunteering at the stable where I ride. I’m going to start making a difference, a good one.

#itsallaboutmewritingpieces #confession #girl #siblings #parents #hope #freewritting #love #trust #abuse #knowledge #children #childhood #bravery

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impulseoflife-blog1 · 7 years

Text

Temporal Rummage

Why?

I am glad that I have a platform where I can type these three letters and scream out loud, and no one would judge me or ask me to keep it to myself or be submissive. Why should I be submissive and be subject to any atrocities? Does being a woman mean that I demean myself?

From the moment of conception, millions of thoughts run in our society. Why a girl? How are we going to raise her up? What if she brings shame to our family?These are just some questions that I have heard over and over again. With the advent of the 21st century, I took it for granted that all of these prejudices and skepticisms would change. Little did I know that I was born into one such society till I moved to India. Personally, my life has been immensely blessed. I had the privilege of being born and raised in a country so far away, with no intervention of society. I held on to my faith and the rich Indian culture. I never knew that the system was shattered back in India. You, like me could have had a very blessed life. But, I am taking this opportunity to voice out several other souls who do not deserve this in any way, shape or form.

Womanhood is not a curse. And in a culture like ours, it is heartbreaking to see how womanhood crashes down most of the time because of ‘women’ themselves. Such an irony! I have been blessed with a wonderful family which let me take pride in my womanhood. Fortunately, I have been designed to be an empath. Fortunate I say, because I feel the pain of those who are less fortunate, and feel much privileged to voice their torment.

Men and women have been designed to complement one another, but in no way exercise power or superiority over each other. Often times, people mistake ‘respect’ for power and control that we see women submitting to the slavery that they are forced into.

My recent encounters with women in different stages of their life, stuck in the bondage, instilled in me a notion to ponder upon their unacceptable status. Beginning with being judged for being raised in a city or a certain circumstance to reasoning for her every action, women are subject to the opinion of a large mass. The people that form this society do not influence a woman for the better, rather trump her down and lead her to questioning her very existence. For understanding this, I think it would be most appropriate to walk through a journey of a woman from her teenage till her marriage.

The instant a woman attains puberty, it is the mark of a whole new life with prejudices and rules which is reinstated and passed on from generation to generation. These rules may lean towards good and bad, but the intention with which these rules are conveyed is purely out of the joy of seeing another woman in misery. Yes! “Don’t smile too much when you talk”, “Don’t touch any guy”, “Be more submissive”, “Why are you still running around like a kid?” are some of the several dialogues that you keep hearing bouncing off the walls. Overnight your life changes! I remember spending sleepless nights and praying that I had one more day to enjoy being a kid. Of course I never heard any of this from my mom, but of course our society never lets parents take charge, does it? I have always wondered if these dialogues could ever be replaced with “Be more vigilant”, “We have all been through this. And we’re here for you”. If you’re one of the lucky ones who has had a better experience, cherish the people you had and have in your life. There’s only a handful.

The next phase is adolescence, which is marked by the excitement of college life. Besides the area of study, there are several challenges that you face - making new friends and creating lasting memories. The relationships that you form here can make your or break you, since it is such a vulnerable stage of life. This stage or any stage of life, for that matter can be aptly compared to a ‘performance stage’. You perform your best to please the audience (the so called society). Any mistakes made here is always blown out of proportion. You have limited chance to learn from any of them, because by the time you learn from your mistakes you are trashed and brought down to a very belittling meaningless object. I have seen women taken advantage of, abused, manipulated and ruined. Do these women deserve to be judged? Do these women deserve to be wronged? Who are we in all this? Who are we to judge? The innate tendency of a woman would be to condemn evils and bring goodness to all. I still recall several women being blamed for mistakes that they never did. The reason being, if a man was involved, it was always a woman’s fault. This only makes me question, are men the weaker sex? Is it so hard to accept mistakes? Remember, this is indicative only of the few demeaning men that I had encountered, who are the most poisonous ‘weeds’ among the others. (Let me refer to these men and woman who cause eternal damnation on earth as ‘weeds’, for the purpose of making this more specific to those with such evil notions). So, from here you try to unload your baggage and try walking upright. It takes a lot of strength and courage to do it. What do we do when we watch inspirational stories of world leader who failed several times, but made it to the top due to persistent effort? We respect and honor them, but we don’t do it to women. Women who face these challenges and take a leap forward are often termed with offensive words and respected by a handful.

Soon after, she is displayed with the finest of jewels and clothes and adorned with sweet fragrance. Oh yes! this is how she is sold for her marriage. I was once told that being a woman was a curse and that it was a very expensive one. My father would never approve of this statement, nor will my brother, but remember I said weeds, yes one of those weeds. I was deeply affected and felt like a burden since I never felt any of this till I moved back to my own country. I also recall my father having to face people who often told him to be careful with his money since he had to marry me off. I salute my dad for responding to all of them with a smile and a few powerful words, “Such a family will never deserve my daughter”. And he remains true to those words till date. During this phase, I encountered women displayed in those art galleries with a price tag and weeds walking down the aisle picking and choosing the best price. Forgot to mention that the color of a woman’s skin was an added benefit. I saw some weeping as they were forced into getting betrothed. I saw some preparing to put up with a life that they had no clue about. I was stunned and shaken. Soon they were all sold. But nothing ends here. Here are some ‘truths’ and ‘facts’ that I had learnt from few of the ones who were subject to this kind of life. 1. “If you’re honest with your better-half about your baggage, you are assured of abuse in some way, shape or form. You are mistaken if you think trust can be built through honesty”. 2. “No matter how bad you’re tormented, put up with it, since your relatives will have to respond to the questions from the rest of the society”. 3. “As a woman, you’re considered temporary with regard to everything. Your job, friends, parents, possessions are all temporary”. 4. “Your in-laws use you to live their fairy tale”. 5. “A woman is a machine. She is meant to produce babies. The sooner she does, the better”. 6. “You can never live a fairy tale that you had dreamt of in your younger years”. Again, I think at this point it is worth mentioning that i am taking about the weeds and not everyone. Living with these truths and facts become second nature. Do any of these people take a moment to think of how sacred marriage is? Do they take one minute to realize that any major life changing decision is personal between the couple and God and none have the right to interfere whatsoever. The frustration of not being able to fulfill your purpose and live the life that you’re meant to live is a curse in itself. And it is the society and the weeds among men that impose this curse.

Faith has been my very pillar that led me to believe that there is a fairy tale that is designed for each of us and when we look up to God, we are always safely placed in the path that he has designed for us. I married into a family which believes in God and love. I have encountered God’s perfect love through the very existence of my beloved. My father proved himself right to the society which tried to bring this curse on me. I have broken through every chain that could have pulled me back into the pits and now live a life that I could have never imagined. But, through all of this, I see how rapidly empathy is growing within me. I use the strength that I have mustered up with the help of my husband, to pen these brutalities without a second thought. If you are one of the many women who go through these cruelties, it is time that you seek out God’s purpose for your life. It is imperative that we kill the weeds as and when they start blooming. I have witnessed the destruction that they can cause.

All of this only brings me to one thing. When we have an innate tendency to love and give to people, irrespective of their gender, why do we let evil creep in? Why?

#love #women #india #marriage #arranged marriage #abuse #suicide #hopeless #depression #girl #indian girl

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