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magnhild · 3 years

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A Happy Review (kind of) of Ikenfell

Having ADHD means that I have a lot of trouble getting into new media if I’m hyperfixating on something else. As any follower of mine is no doubt aware, my current one is RWBY, and has been for a while. But with the show’s mid-volume hiatus underway, I ended up left in a void with nothing to fill it.

Two days ago, I had a friend reccomened to me a little indie RPG called Ikenfell. I’d never heard of it, but I was told it has a great number of LGBT+ characters, options to make gameplay easier, content warnings, and music composed by the great Aivi & Surasshu, who you might know as the composers of Steven Universe. This grabbed my interest, but I found myself sketpical that it could be that good, and that the representation, in particular, was largely exaggerated and probably just mild implication.

Nevertheless, I started the game the next day, intending to play for an hour or so before putting it down again, warning my friend that I was unlikely to get too invested in it.

Almost exactly 12 hours later, I found myself watching the epilogue play out with misty eyes, having finished the game and having gotten deeply pulled into it.

This game was everything it was promised to me and so much more. Between the representation, the accessibility options, and the overall charm of the game, Ikenfell ended up being laregly enjoyable and something truly special; a hidden gem in the plethora of video games released in 2020.

The game follows Maritte Hildegaard, a non-magical teenage girl, on the search for her yes-magical sister Safina, a witch attending the school of Ikenfell. A basic premise on the surface, but the story itself has a lot of neat little twists and turns that all come together for a satisfying story worthy of being animated someday. It probably won’t be, but hey, I can’t dream, right?

To begin with, I didn’t find myself too fond of the battle system, not because I found it flawed, but simply because I personally struggle with video game battles and they can also cause me a great deal of pain due to my connective tissue disorder and chronic shoulder pain. I was getting way too frustrated, even agaisnt smaller enemies, and was ready to put the game down after yet another failure agaisnt the same single boss. Tied alongside the fact you cannot see your enemy’s HP, making strategixing more difficult, I was ready to say that I wasn’t a huge fan of the game.

That is, until I found out about instant victory, an option in the settings that allows you to be given the chance to instantly skip literally any battle in the game, with no negative conequences and all of the rewards. For more avoid gamers, it might be tempting to mark this as a flaw that makes the game ‘too easy’, but is very much optional, and anyone who wants the challenge can play without it if they wish. But for disabled people like me, who also get easily stressed, it was an absolute Godsend that allowed me to focus more on the story and characters, which was what I really cared about.

On the note of characters, the representaion mentioned earlier is certianly no exxageration, with just about every named character being explicily LGBT+ in a way that I’ve never seen before in officially published media. I’m not just talking wlw and mlm characters, though there were plenty. No, the characters aren’t only diverse in sexuality, but in gender as well. Of the six playable characters, three- an entire half- of them are nonbinary. Several human nonbinary characters. And it goes even further- only one of these characters uses they/them pronouns. Why is that good? Because not all nonbinary people do. And that’s something that is severely overlooked by those with binary genders. One of them uses he/him pronouns, and the other uses ze/zir pronouns. You read that right. A main character in a video game, in media at all, that uses neopronouns. Now, I am fully aware that neopronouns have been used in media before; my own set were coined by a book, in fact. But in all of these cases that I’m aware of, they are used exclusively for non-human characters; aliens, bringing an implcation that neopronouns are nonhuman. This case, as far as I’m aware, is the first case that they are used to reflect and represent real human beings, and it is absolutely incredible. The LGBT+ representation in this game is amazing, but there is something very special and signifigant about a black, human, adult character, using neopronouns.

Even better yet is that this is all in the game completely casually, with no fanfare, no dramatic coming-out plotlines, no treatment as if it is anything but normal. Even the one instance of a character accidentally misgender another comes with a quick apology and correction with no big deal. Better yet is that terms like ‘gay’ and ‘nonbinary’ are explicitly used in-text as well, rather than avoiding the use of them as many other instances of LGBT+ characters in media do.

Aside from individual LGBT+ characters, the game also boasts five LGBT+ couples over the course of the story, though one is only sen in flashbacks and another is only mentioned between scenes. Nevertheless, it’s easy to become invested in the slight romantic aspects of the story.

SPOILERS AHEAD

One of these romances is between Ibn Oxley and Bax Twiford, and it’s the first one we see hinted at in the game. During the stoy’s climax, Bax is fatally wounded and I felt a heavy weight in the pit of my stomach, even tweeting an out-of-context ‘OH NO’ to confused and concerened followers. MLM couples in media are all-too-often doomed to fail, usually by way of having one half of the couple be killed off. I feared this would be the same case here, to the only MLM couple in the game, and resigned to it with a hevay heart.

Except, the game surprised me again, and saved Bax before he died, allowing for both characters to get their happy ending. In fact, all of the characters get at least somewhat of a happy ending, a refreshing detail for a sap like me. I was espeically pleased when I sat through the credits, praying for an epilogue that would confirm soemthing I was hoping for, being sure I wouldn’t get it, and then i got it. Every writing choice made felt like one of my own, albiet excuted better, with far more professionalism. It felt so utterly refreshing to have everything turn out the way I wanted it to.

Even decisons made outside of representaion satisified me, like Safina not being forgiven by Maritte after everything she’d done, including keeping Maritte’s entire existance from her friends. In many instances these days, it’s all-too-common for a character to do terrible things, only to be forgiven by everyone the moment they apologie, and it can be a bit frustrating if you’re someone who knows that nobody should ever feel obligated to forgive someone who hurt them, and that an apology is more than just saying ‘sorry’. It was yet another case of the story going exactly as I’d wanted it to.

END SPOILER WARNING

Ikenfell feels just like a fanfiction, and I mean that in the best possible way. Not because it’s exceedingly trope-y, or because it feels amature in any way, but because it doesn’t feel like something that was written for pleasing the (cishet and white) masses when it comes to its representation. The large majority of creators looking to publish their work will avoid going all-out with representation in fear of the classic ‘it’s not realistic’ critisism, with only fanfiction authors usually having the guts to make all of their characters LGBT+, because they’re writing for themselves and a small audience of people who enjoy the same things as them. Ikenfell has this same feel; it wasn’t created to be a huge, wildly popular, chart-topping game, it was created to be something that the people it represented could enjoy. It is the purest kind of video game, not one made for profit or attention, but simply because the creators wanted to create it. The fanfiction vibe also makes a lot of sense, considering the fact that was inspired by them- which may explain why I, laregly a fanfiction writer, agree with so much of its choices.

The game may not be everyone’s thing, but if you’re disabled, LGBT+, a POC, of even just someone who ejoys cute fantasy RPGs, I implore you to buy and play the game, because even my words can’t fully capture what an incredible game it is. There’s stuff I haven’t even mentioned, like the beuatiful music, the great visuals, and the many, many cats, so please, go and check it out for yourself.

Thank you for reading, and thank you to every single person who worked on Ikenfell for crafting such a lovely and inclusive game.

#ikenfell #essay #my writing #long post

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riricitaa · 4 years

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Seb haters to me were fans with an unhealthy obsession up until the pap pics of him with the girl. I saw a lot of hate for going on vacation and being caught w/o a mask as if the USA is not mass vacationing to unrestricted countries and not complying with mask rules. His PR team probably made sure he and anyone coming in contact with him were safe beforehand, because that's just how the entretainement world is working right now. You get tested every 3 days and you got masks unless you're eating

2/2 I said the testing in the entertainment industry with proof. I have a friend working in movie sets and that's just how it works, they have the money to protecto their employees. And I said what I said about his safety under a PR company because that's also how it works I'm a gen. communications graduate and I know their clients are protected like the money makers they are. Seb doesn't deserve such hate. Much less how people exposed his address and told him to k*ill himself.

Thank you for the info anon because no one would know how anything is, better than the ‘specialized people’ (idk if that’s how it’s said in english) also any wise person with common sense would know that nobody would put theirs and other people’s lives in danger on purpose, because covid19 is no joke! even tho it wasn’t the best decison he made but I’m so sure he was following safety protocols, and the hate drifted away from that reason, as you ca see they’re just hating on alejandra, we discussed this before but what she did was wrong and people have the right to be upset and feel offended, but that’s not how to do it! you can’t stop something wrong by doing something wrong too! it’s not how it works!

#Anonymous

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vaderscape · 6 years

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2, 3, 4, 5, 11, 14, 16, 27?😊

Jaysus that’s a lot lmao ily for this

2. which character do you want to be most like?

Oh, shit, probably Leia? She’s so strong and lost so much yet she’s still a leader and she’s a woman who’s not afraid to get angry when necessary with the political skills that could have made her an amazing Chancellor idk she’s just sick as fuck.

3. which character are you actually most like?

Anakin cause I’m an over emotional disaster who gets too attached to everyone lol.

4. what headcanon will you defend to the death?

Space Britney Spears IS real and she’s literally just Britney but with more sparkles.

Jk but a more serious one is that Anakin’s divine half shows through his eyes. Like, it’s more an animating fluke than anything else but in the really early seasons of Clone Wars Anakin’s eyes have a tendancy to reflect light weirdly and almost glow. So, spurred on with the Sith-eyes idea, I hc that Anakin’s eyes kinda have a weird shine/glow to them when he’s really in tune with the Force? Idk it’s dumb but I love it.

Oh and AELB. I live and die by AELB.

5. what planet would you most like to visit?

Big fuck uh

Probably Coruscant just because of how much history and varying cultures are there? Or Mustafar bc not only of the cool ass lava but also I wanna see if Vader’s edgelord castle really does look like a super goth 24 year old’s interior design.

11. who is the most underrated character?

Quinlan Vos by far. The man was literally the star of the Republic comics, and he gets one Clone Wars episode and a (pretty bad) novel? Not only that, but he’s really pushed to the wayside by fandom when he’s so amazing. He’s got unique powers, he’s a royal(ish) descendant, plus he’s got a sick character design and a bad boy reputation? This man should be known and loved by all I’m just sayin.

14. what is your favorite alien species?

I think Togrutas? Idk I love their designs and how they have a very developed culture and also some sick physical traits (give Ahsoka fangs u cowards). Tbh I really wanna know what a togruta skeleton looks like now.

I’d say whatever Anakin is but he doesn’t look that nonhuman so Lucas ur a coward lalskdkf

16. which movie/episode have you watched the most?

Oof good question. I think the Hunt for Ziiro is my most watched Clone Wars episode, and movie wise it’s… Attack of the Clones? Or Phantom Menace.

Tbh now is a great time to confess I cannot sit through the end of Revenge of the Sith. It’s just so… visceral and painful and really hard to watch. I always walk away after Cody gets order 66.

There was no 27 I saw so I’ll answer 25 instead but you’re free to point out if I can’t read skskjdh

25. which character do you have a love/hate relationship with?

Oof that’s a lot to unpack. Anakin, obvs, but also Obi-Wan too. He’s so easy to love and fun to write with but at the same time I hate what he did on Christophas (fuckin war criminal) and how he was in the end always obedient ro the Council, even when their decisons were horrifying (Ahsoka’s trial, the whole damn clone army), how disregarding of others’ emotions he was, especially Ahsoka and Anakin, two young people still looking up to him as a mentor and a friend and breaking their trust again and again(Rako Hardeen, Ahsoka’s trial again) as well as not killing Anakin on Mustafar. He went there, knowing Anakin had to get taken out, and couldn’t do it. He knew he couldn’t. One more swing of his saber and we could have avoided thousands, millions of deaths by Vader’s hand. He also put Padmé in grave danger by hiding on her ship and coming out, likely being able to sense Anakin’s minefield of emotions and still walking out there without protecting Padmé, leaving her and her unborn children to Vader’s wrath. At the same time, he’s done really good things for the Republic, helped Luke to truly start his journey, is a fucking amazing swordsman, has a killer wit and accent, and did the best he could to raise Anakin to be a good Jedi. He’s just a really complex character and I go through phases of stanning him and hating him passionately.

Oh, and Palpatine. God, I love to hate him. He’s just so amazingly and glaringly evil you cannot help but watch him chew through scenery in absolute awe. He’s a bad, bad man and I love/hate him in the highest degree.

Thanks for the asks!

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tearsofaclownnn · 3 years

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Happy birthday kids. Night and Twilight, today marks the day ur mom brought you two into my life. One of the best moments of my life and also one of the worst. You kids saved me during those months but i failed to save your other two siblings. I got to watch ur mom holding you with so much care but i also had to take ur siblings away from her while she was desperately licking them to see if they were still breathing. I think about you little guys everyday. When your mom feeding you, when you learn how to walk, how to pee, when you slept right besides me keeping me sane during those nights, when you were the reason i got out of bed each day and tried to be there for you. I probably failed you kids. Maybe that's why each of you are now in a surely way better family than me, and out of my reach. Probably for the best, and the only right decison i've made for you. I'm sure you have grown by now, strong, healthy, beautiful and surrounded by nothing but love. Thank you for coming into my life. I wish you kids all the best, nothing but the best, and more. And i'm sorry. That I couldn't take care of you, but i promise i'll take care of your siblings in cat heaven. https://www.instagram.com/p/CMLV77Jq3Hf/?utm_medium=tumblr

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youcancallmeelle · 6 years

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And I’ll Be The Sky And You Be The Bird... Part 2: (FP Jones x Original Character).

** Inspired by this song **

School, work, make time to hang out with my friends and sleep was my usual routine these days.

I’d be finishing my last year of school soon and I wanted to make sure that I atleast had a trade behind me, I’d made the concious decision to not go to college as it wasn’t something that interested me.

To be truthful, I don’t think anyone had put much thought into their futures, we were all busy living in the moment.

I don’t regret my choice because it’s what works for me and it was my decison to make, nobody elses.

I was currently bent over the front bumper of car, completing the service I’d started a few hours prior.

I was just done changing the oil filter when I heard Ian, my boss and the owner of the auto shop call out for me.

“Liv, there’s a gentleman who needs to see you, he says it’s important.” He informed me and I groaned, hoping to be finished for the day.

I turned around to see Ian leading the ‘gentleman’ into the garage and my expression changed, Ian excused himself to the back to finish up his paperwork which left myself and the male alone.

It was none other than FP Jones and I admit that I was relieved to not have any more work on my plate but not so relieved to see him.

I can’t deny that I hadn’t thought about him since the gathering by sweet water river and that had occured just over a week ago.

“So you’ve started stalking me then.” I scoffed, wiping my hands on a rag as I leant against the open hood of the Volkswagen golf.

“Call it what you want, I just wanted to see you again.” FP defended, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“How did you know where to find me?” I questioned, folding my arms firmly across my chest.

“I guessed you’d be here since there’s only a couple of mechanics in Riverdale and if I remember correctly, you told me where you worked. I wanted to come a few days ago but I’ve only just plucked up the courage. I didn’t want you to think it was weird, like I was lurking or anything.” He explained, removing one hand from the pocket of his black jeans and using it to rub at his stubbly jaw.

“It is weird.” I bluntly told him and he let out a sigh, still scratching at his jaw.

“I’ll leave you to it then, I guess.” He mumbled, focusing all his attention on the concrete floor and turning to leave the garage.

I slapped both hands to my face and silently made a noise of frustration, letting out a dramatic sigh as I battled with myself.

“FP, wait.” I sighed, causing the older man to stop in his tracks and turn to face me in wonder. “What’s up? I know you have no business here, so why have you come all the way to the Northside?” I continued and he shrugged, advancing towards me.

“I’ve told you, I just wanted to see you again.”

“Why?” I probed, my left arm supporting me against the car as the right still held the rag.

“When I was talking to you at the lake, it just felt like I’d known you forever. You’re different to anyone I’ve ever known, you’re beyond fucking cool!” He explained, waving his arms in front of him.

I laughed loudly at the gentleman in his serpent jacket, unable to resist a smile in his direction.

“And my age isn’t an issue, right?” I reminded him and he bit his lip, like it was his turn to have an internal battle.

“We can be friends…” He suggested, walking closer so there was probably less than a foot between us.

“Unfortunately, I’m not on the hunt for anymore friends. Do you not think it’s kinda weird? I’m literally best friends with your son, FP.”

“I know, Livv. But I don’t know what it is about you, like I told you by sweet water river, you intrigue me.”

“Fine, FP. But let’s keep this on the down low, agreed?” I dealt, holding my hand out for him to shake.

But instead, FP closed the distance between us and my breath almost instantly hitched in my throat as I felt every ounce of warmth come radiating off him and as cliche as it sounds, it was almost like actual sparks were flying.

I couldn’t move and I had no idea what he was intending to do, until I felt his fingers gently rubbing my cheekbone and the motion caused my eyes to flutter closed.

It felt like the longest few seconds of my life but I regained composure once I felt him step away once more.

My eyes were dazed and I’m pretty sure my mouth was open but I coughed to clear my throat and looked at FP in question.

“You had oil on your face.” He informed me, casually shrugging.

“Right….” I replied awkwardly, avoiding his stare.

“Do you wanna go grab a coffee at Pop’s or something? Maybe talk more?” He suggested hopefully and I bit my lip.

I turned back to look at Ian who happened to look up from his desk at the same time, he put his thumbs up to me and I stared back with a gracious smile, glad to be finished.

“I guess so, I’m so not in the mood for coffee though, it’s too hot.” I grumbled, removing myself from the vehicle and closing the hood.

“That’s cool, we’ll figure it out.”

I was still in my overalls, they were half on and tied at my waist. I unidid the tied sleeves and pulled the blue material down my legs, revealing my black jeans and converse that were free from engine oil and other grime.

“I like a girl in uniform.” FP teased and I scowled at him, throwing my overalls over a chair in the workspace until I wore them again in a few days.

“Let’s bounce then.” I urged as I grabbed my bag, pushing his shoulder gently as I walked past him and headed outside to where his black SUV was parked.

FP let out a quiet laugh as he shook his head at my casual behaviour but followed me outside.

“I’m going to take you to my secret hide out.” FP informed me as we pulled away from the auto shop which caused me to raise my eyebrow.

“You’re not planning on killing me, are you?”

“Because I’m the leader of a notorious gang?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” I told him and he merely let out a dry laugh but continued to drive.

“What made you choose to work at the autoshop?” FP quizzed as he half focused on the road and half on me, it was slightly unsettling as it had gotten dark and I wanted him to be fully focused on his driving.

“I like cars and I’m good at it, I’m technically Ian’s apprentice but he doesn’t really need to teach me.” I responded and FP made an impressed face.

“You did look hot under the hood of that car in those cute overalls.” He chided and I made a sarcastic face in return of his compliment.

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious, you looked great!”

“I’m there to fix cars, not look sexy.” I retored with a snort, still trying to brush off his compliment.

“You hate being complimented, don’t you?” FP reacted, almost like he read my mind.

“If you say so.”

FP let out an exhale but didn’t retaliate, only continued to drive into the unknown.

I think we continued to drive for another twenty minutes or so, up and around unfamilar roads that I’d never driven along before.

FP pulled into a dirt track that was barely illuminated by his headlights, I had no idea where we were but my breath was taken as we pulled into the clearing.

We were high up above the town, the stars in the sky and the moon beaming down bright.

FP cut the engine and undid his seatbelt, I copied his actions and opened the door to the vehicle. He walked around to meet me, taking my hand and leading me to the front of his car.

“It’s beautiful.” I spoke, looking on in awe and utter astonishment.

I gazed out over the city, admiring all the lights and landmarks.

There was an obvious divide between the Northside and the Southside, the difference between the two was vast.

“Do you come here often?” I wondered, turning my head to look at FP.

“I guess so, sometimes you just need to get away.” He replied, also shifting his position.

“Tell me about it.”

“How long have you lived here now?” He inquired and I shrugged, reliving the last few months.

“About four months, I think. It’s a big change from Ohio, everything is so different here.”

“By different you mean fucking crazy, right?” FP asked, his plump lips turning upwards.

“You could say that.” I conversed, amusement evident in my tone as I continue to speak. “You’re not married, are you? ‘Cause that’d be super weird, I’m not a home wrecker.”

“Nah, doll. It ended years ago, Gladys left with Jellybean a long time ago. We got divorced, it was for the best though.” FP explained and I nodded in understanding, almost feeling guilty for prying.

“I’m sorry.” I sympathised, gently touching his arm.

“Don’t be, it was for the best. Sometimes you just fall out of love with someone and I wasn’t a great father at the time, I was seriously dependent on alcohol. My daughter doesn’t even speak to me these days, I only have Jughead.” He informed me, sadness evident in his voice as he spoke about his children.

“Have you not dated since?”

“Nah, I haven’t bothered.”

“Mmm.” I replied, pursing my lips.

“Who do you live with? What’s your situation at home?”

“God, you’re full of questions tonight, aren’t you?” I grinned and he rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his lean chest.

“I’m just getting to know you, sweetheart. And besides, you’ve been shooting them at me too.”

This time I rolled my eyes, choosing to ignore his questions and remark.

I shivered as I felt a sharp breeze hit me, immediately regretting not wearing a hoodie as it had been humid all day since it was summer.

“You cold?” FP wondered, tilting his head to the side.

“Only abit, the breeze caught me off guard. I haven’t worn a jacket all day because obviously, it’s been really hot.” I scrunched my nose up, noticing the goosebumps arise on my skin.

“Here.” and before I could object, FP had hopped off the car bonnet and was removing his beloved biker jacket, shaking it out before placing it around my shoulders.

I drank in the newly found warmth and smiled gratefully at FP, slipping my arms through the sleeves.

“It suits you.” He commented, moving back beside me.

“Mmm, don’t get any ideas.” I warned and FP chuckled, his eyes glinting in the reflection of light that loomed from the landscape.

We continued to look on in silence, both of us just enjoying eachothers company. I hadn’t known FP for more than a week but it felt like we’d been friends for a lifetime.

I felt so at ease with him, we were so similiar.

“Do you regret it?” I mediated and he looked over at me oddly.

“Regret what?”

“Joining the serpents.” I added and he breathed through his nose.

“Sometimes, but it’s all I know. My old man kicked me out when I was younger than Jug, I joined the serpents and then went into the army for a brief time and came out, then joined the serpents again.” FP told me.

“You weren’t that old when you had your kids then.”

“Old enough to know what I was doing.”

I removed myself from the hood of his car, stepping closer to the edge but continuing to be cautious.

I placed my hands at my sides after I’d adjusted the red bandana in my hair that was keeping stray hairs out of my face, licking my lips that had become dry from the brisk air at the hill top.

I stared out over fox forest, wondering what horrors lurked within the dense trees.

I was so wrapped up in my thought that I didn’t feel the existence of FP close behind me, not until I felt his hot breath on the back of my neck.

I shivered and turned around to face him, he said nothing, only placed his hand on the side of my neck as he closed the little distance that was left between us.

This was the second time tonight that my breathing faltered at the fault of FP and his unpredictability.

My green eyes met his chocolate ones and our noses were almost touching, I couldn’t help but move my hands up to his jaw to feel the dark stubble beneath my fingers.

He leaned in closer and I didn’t dare move, not until I felt his lips gently touch mine. I didn’t push him away and I didn’t want to, instead I kissed him back eagerly.

I thoroughly enjoyed the harshness of his slight moustache on my lip, the way his beard scratched at my chin.

But, deep down, I knew this wasn’t right and pulled away from FP, taking a step back behind him, away from the edge.

“What’s wrong?” He breathed, confusion plastered across his face.

“Oh my god, FP. We’ve literally just started an affair, I can’t believe this.” I groaned, covering my face with his hands.

“So? It was just a kiss and besides, nobody needs to know.”

I uncovered my face and looked at him in disbelief, a sarcastic laugh escaped my lips.

“You’re joking, right?” I spat, overwhelmed at how fast the overall atmospehere had changed.

“Why are you getting so defensive?” FP asked, holding his arms out in front of him as he came closer.

“Why am I getting so defensive? Are you fucking serious? I’ve just kissed the dad of one of my best friends.” I almost yelled, pushing him away.

“It was just a kiss.” He repeated, holding his palms up in defense.

“But it’s not going to stop there is it, FP? How many more kises are there gonna be? I barely know you!”

“You need to relax.” He chided, cool and collected.

“You don’t know me, you have no right to tell me what to do. You had no right to kiss me!” I exclaimed, frustrated as hell.

“Please, Liv. You kissed me back! You wanted that as much as I did!”

“That’s not the point, FP! This can’t happen, I don’t do relationships and I defnitely don’t do old men!” I said, turning to get back into the car.

FP laughed at my comment but grabbed my wrist and pushed me back against the side of his car door, using his free arm to support himself by my head.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Tell me you’re not into this.” He demanded, releasing my wrist and motioning between us.

“I’m not into being one of those girls, FP. I’m too young for you and you’re too old for me, that’s just the way it is.” I denied, shaking my head.

FP pursed his lips but nodded, now reaching up to lightly touch my bottom lip with his thumb.

I threw caution to the wind and pushed his hand away, reaching up and grabbing his face.

I crushed my lips to his and I can tell the action suprised him because he wobbled ever so slightly but kissed back, his movements rough as his body pressed against mine in a heated fight for dominance.

My hands were tangled in the back of his hair and his hands were roaming my body, slipping underneath the leather jacket as his mouth left mine but immediately attacked my neck while his hand neared my throat.

I threw my head back, my mouth slightly open as I felt the sharpness of his stubble at my neck.

“Oh my god, you need to stop.” I gasped, struggling to remain controlled, my hands flat against his toned chest.

FP hummed against my neck, coming back up to meet my lips. I eagerly kissed back, pulling him closer if that was possible.

I bit on his lip gently, tugging it. He moaned quietly, his hands tightening on my hips almost painfully.

I pulled away from his lips, my own more plump than usual.

“You’re killing me.” FP groaned, his jaw tense.

“I’m sorry about that, but I need to go.” I giggled, my chest heaving from the heavy makeout session.

“Fine, I’ll take you home.” He sighed, pressing one last gentle kiss to my lips before pulling away from me and opening the door to his car for me to get into.

I complied and he closed it behind me, also hopping in as I fastened my seatbelt.

“Thank you for bringing me here.” I told him and he beamed back at me, obviously very pleased with himself.

“Wanna make this a regular thing?”

“Don’t push it.” I warned as he pulled out of the clearing, he merely laughed.

I guided FP to a road that was a few minutes away from the autoshop where our night began, only because I lived quite close to here and didn’t want to risk anyone seeing me with him.

He pulled up along the curb and I unbuckled my seatbelt, remembering to remove his jacket because I wouldn’t be able to make any excuses as to why I had it if my parents asked.

“When can I see you again?” He asked, running his fingers along my chin.

“Soon.” I promised, leaning into his touch.

“Can I atleast have your number?” He begged, handing me his iphone.

I nodded and punched in my number, hoping not to regret it.

“Goonight, FP.” I whispered, leaning across the console to kiss his stubbly cheek.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He called out as I exited the vehicle, throwing my bag over my shoulder.

I watched on as his car sped into the darkness, retreating back to the Southside.

I bit my lip in angst.

What had I gotten myself into?

#fp jones imagine #fp jones #riverdale imagines #jughead jones imagine

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ladyneoko · 6 years

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Friendship

When I think about it, I meet some of the best people. I make friends with the best people. The only problem is...

They're always so far away.

The friends I made in high school were wonderful. They tried to bring me out of my shell, they tried to involve me in things. But I was too broken. Too afraid to be myself because I didn't know who I was anymore. I didn't know how to have fun. I regret spending so much time with my ex, so much time wasted trying to be a good girlfriend but not knowing how to even do that. I should've spent more time with my friends and not have felt guilty about the times when I did and he wasn't invited. He was always somewhat offended by that. But they were my friends. Not his. His friends never invited me to things, so why should mine? But beyond that, that group of people, those friends of mine, they were fun. I miss being apart of a group like that.

But before I met that group (or rather became a part of it) I had another friend. I met her back in freshman year. She was another flute player, one that for some reason I just wanted to be friends with. I'm pretty sure that I asked her to come have a sleepover with me one day out of the blue. I've never regreted having her as my friend. Sure, she can be difficult and a bit distant at times, but so is everyone else. She's a good soul, but sometimes doesn't know how to take care of herself. I try my best to help but I'm not very good at it. I remember how much I dragged her around with me back in school. Sometimes I just didn't want to be alone with my ex I guess, so I convinced her to come with us. That group of friends didn't like her much, but I think it was more of the friends she had rather than her. They actually told me that she was pretty cool, they just didn't like the people around her. I think I told her that once but I'm not sure if she believed me. This friend, me and her still talk and hang out from time to time. She's been through rough times and I only wish I could help her more. But like I said, I've never regretted picking her out of the crowd to be my friend.

But before her came my Alaskan. He showed up the summer before 8th grade, the first day I got my Xbox 360. I remember yelling at him for pronouncing my gamertag wrong. Best decison I've made. This guy has the best soul. He's a few years younger than me, two I think. And he's always made me smile and laugh. No matter what, he finds a way to cheer me up. Just a month or two ago, I wanted to get a bad story off my chest, get a step closer to letting go. He listened to me try to remember all the things I repressed. And then, he started talking about weird things and telling me stories about what he did. We somehow got on the topic of things his family had taken from his room. So, out of spite, he went to the fridge and said "there's a coke zero in here. It's mine now. I don't even like this drink, but I'm angry at them. So I'm gonna drink it. *a soda popping open and him taking a sip* ugh. Disgusting. *another sip*" After telling that story, worrying about how he would see me after, he did this. He took a soda out of spite. There are many other instances of this. He's been my best friend for around 7 years...But I've never met him face to face. I'm convinced that when I do, when he gives me his promised hug, I might finally feel like the world may actually be okay. Just because he is that type of person who would somehow fix the world.

Somewhere during high school, I was playing GTA online with my brother and maybe some of his friends. We were just running around, blowing things up and driving cars. But this was a GTA online lobby, nothing could ever be peaceful. Eventually, these two people just starting chasing us and constantly killing us. After a while, they invite me to a party. I was fed up and wanted them to stop killing me...So I joined. Those two were surprised I joined the party, and even more so whenever I turned out to be an actual girl. They turned out to be surprisingly fun and only a year younger than me. They started to protect me instead of killing me and they brought me random fun vehicles. So I started playing with them whenever I was online. After maybe a few months to a year, we all just kind of stopped playing. School was back and I was in my later years so the workload was a bit more. Plus, my ex was jealous that I was playing with these random guys online instead of with him (but they were more fun, so can I really be blamed?). Me and those guys stopped talking for maybe a year or two. But one day, one of them messages me. After talking a bit, we decide to meet up since we live in the same state. We talked about meeting up back when we talked more, so it wasn't really an odd thing go us. I made the joke one night that I didn't want to go to town alone to buy a fish, that he should drive up here to go to town with me. Funny thing is, he agreed. I didnt think he'd do it but the next day, they showed up at my house. I discovered that I had an odd knack for picking the best friends, even over the internet. I've told the story of when I went down to visit them already and I'll probably write about the next time I visit them.

There's one last group, so don't you dare think I've forgotten about them. These guys are from California and think that Cali is so much better than Texas. They're wrong of course but I think I showed them Texas's wrath via a tote full of glitter. Anyway, I met these guys on overwatch. Apparently I was a good mercy player and they wanted to play more matches with me. Totally a trap, because then I somehow became the healer of the group. These guys are fun though. And they're always there for me, just like all my friends. They've heard me be depressed, happy, tipsy, drunk off of laughing too much (though when that happenes they usually think I'm actually drunk somehow). These guys have their own problems, but yet when I come to them to complain, they let me. They don't say "Oh but my life is so much worse" they just let me let it all out and then they usually just convince me to play a game and try their best to cheer me up. They give me crap a lot and make me the joke, but I know it's all in good fun and if I could do it back to them, I would. I'm forever glad I ran into them by chance. They're good people and somehow I managed to find a little online family with them.

This is a long post. I didn't mean for that to happen (and just think of how much more i could say). I just wanted to think of how lucky I am to have met these people. To have picked them out of the blue. All of my friends are the best...even if they're so far from me. I've reached some of them but I do intent to reach all of them.

So y'all, if you're reading this for some reason, just wait for me to reach y'all. Or if you're one of the ones I've reached already, know that every moment I spent with you, i never regretted it and I never will. I took it for granted a lot of the time, and I will try to never do that again.

Distance is a bitch.

But lucky for y'all, I'm stubborn as hell and won't let distance win.

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titan-wolfdog · 5 years

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Carol’s makeup (warning for Cap Marvel spoilers)

,seeing all these people defending the Russo’s brothers decision to slap classically/socially-assigned feminine makeup on Carol Danvers and saying anyone who criticizes it is ‘’mysoginistic’’ is absolutely baffling to me like, Im going to put it in the way as an 18 years old who has NEVER worn makeup in her entire life.

Imagine this, being a tiny 10-12 years old wee girl, having had hormone issues and suffering from early acne, u already had been told to and seen your equally old girl classmates putting on makeup and straightening their hairs from that age and on, you kept seeing them do this over and over, you were told you should do the same, your 2 years younger female cousin was already trying it on, why weren’t you?

You are bombarded with the women of your life, some even being past their 70s, doing their makeup even if their pulses were shaky with the old age and their sight wasn’t the best, they still said ‘’no but i have to put on makeup’’.

And you grow up, you never put on makeup, you never did not once, not even when you promised your friends they’d be able to do that at your graduation, not even if you were going to a special event, not even in your quinceañeras or sweet sixteen for the gringas, not once.

And while of this is going on, you’re learning on feminism, and the choice of women. You see women like Natasha Romanoff, like Catwoman, like pre-reboot Lara Croft, like 2003-2005 Elektra; femme fatales whose best weapons weren’t their fists, their weaponry, but their tiny smirks with their red-tainted lips and the slightly raised eyebrow.

These makeup styles, these tight clothes, the perfect eyebrows, not even breaking a sweat even in the face of an impromptu ALIEN INVASION, this is the sort of thing you’re only looking at because in those big screens and the small screens at home, there is no other type of woman. You know well this is not the actresses’ faults, nor the characters, the characters dont control how they’re written, the actresses are just doing their jobs, but it impacts on you, that this is how heroines and superheroines always look.

But then you’re growing even older, and you start to see women like Rey from Star Wars, like Aloy from HZD, like post reboot Lara Croft, like Zarya/Moira/Brigitte from Overwatch, like Jessica Jones, like tiny lil Laura Kinney from the Logan movie; they are all just as strong, they are not seen through their beauty or how pretty they can look, they are WILD, and full of justified rage and pride, Laura Kinney being the tiny one she is way more insane than her genetic father, Rey always fights in the most rudimentary way she knows but like hell that stops her, Lara and Aloy and the three OW girls look absolutely nothing like you’re used to but their feminity is still visible, even when they’re sporting big muscles or toned abs or no socially-accepted feminine physical traits WITHOUT diminishing their presence as women.

And when girls like Harley Quinn sport makeup? It’s the total opposite, it’s what we’re told not to do when wearing it: don’t wear too much makeup or you’ll look ugly. But they’re not ugly at all, girls like Harley are not made out to show that such a thing is told to be ugly nor have I even heard a peep from someone saying they’re ugly, incredibly sexualized yes but that is another side of the subject.

And then comes Captain Marvel, and you see this raw uncontained energy, you see how her hair bothers her in fights bc it’s long, you see it all become messy as fuck when she crashes into the Blockbuster, you see the way she screams at the Skrull without restricting a single muscle in her face, and you know what else you see? No eyeshadow, no tainted wine-red lipstick, no blush on her cheeks, nothing at all. She’s comfortable in herself, she’s comfortable without makeup, and that does not take away her beauty, and more important, she is constantly fighting, constantly getting shit beat up all around, running, punching, among all that, in front of an attack incoming, who would have time to put on makeup, it of course doesn’t make sense, and that’s fine! She doesn’t have to wear makeup, at no point she is obligated as a character to do so, or to even fix her hair often, thank god her helmet does that for her!

And then comes the Avengers: Endgame trailer, and you’re waiting on her to show up, the woman everyone is looking for, the salvation of Earth, a fight to save half of the universe, not just one galaxy, but ALL THE GALAXIES ABOVE AND BEYOND... and you see this

You can see her lips a good shade of wine-red, probably matte lipstick, a clear blush on her cheeks, pink blush, perfect eyebrows, and possibly some eyeshadow, not eyeliner, but eyeshadow. Of course you think ‘’why a woman who has spent over a decade fighting a space war, probably wrecking ships on the go, trying to do the right thing, would take the time to pick up makeup, something she probably doesn’t use at all, would know how to apply all of this, pick up the tightest clothing she could even if she took the most comfy looking jacket when she left, in front of what could be the world as WE know? This doesn’t even feel like the same characters, sure you know it’s.. her, but in contrast to this:

It doesn’t even begin to feel like her, and you have a slight bit of hope because everywhere you look, the posters, the middle credits scene where she shows up, she is sporting practically the same look, only that her hair seems to have grown, which is fine, it’s expected when you spend like 23 years up there in space with no hair stylist.

But why does she suddenly not feel the same, like you’re not getting the same vibe from her? How would she even know to put on makeup? Did she learn it from the Skrulls? But none of the female Skrulls even have to wear makeup, they simply don’t, there is no reason for someone like Nat to pick her over and go ‘’okay but it’s the end of the world so we gotta slap some makeup on you’’ when they’re ALL trying to think an strategy up for defeating this raisin who currently has uhh ALL THE STONES WHO CONTAIN THE POWER OF THE EVERY ASPECT OF THE UNIVERSE AND LIFE??

Ah, right, because if she keeps looking like the latter, everyone will start calling her bitchy even more than she already is, so ‘’let’s put makeup on her so she doesn’t look too threatening, on this character who in what’s probably 23 years has not worn a single bit of makeup, has not been shown to come back to Earth and wear makeup, has more than once and throughout her life picked comfortability over the hassle of putting on makeup and tight clothes, yes what a sound decision’’.

When you wear too much makeup, when you wear nothing of makeup, even when it’s expected of you when you’re a woman to find the ‘’balance’’ so you don’t look either ‘‘bitchy’’ or ‘‘crazy’’, so you look ‘‘appealing’’, that is the power of choice, and if you choose to wear makeup, that is because you can and you want to, but remember it is expected of us, women, to put on the right amount of makeup all the time, and having a woman, a superheroine, who didnt sport a bit of makeup, suddenly sporting the classic femme fatale look, should at least tell you that ‘‘this cannot be a sound decison at all considering everything taken into account’’. It is not mysoginistic to criticize Carol’s sudden makeup, makeup is NOT reserved for women only so stop saying ‘‘it’s mysoginistic to criticize Carol for wearing makeup’’.

Oh and before anyone says:

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ameliarosetalks · 7 years

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If you're a Dramione shipper can you please do the "I'm not going to apologize for this. Not anymore." one pretty please!!! Thank you :)

I can sure give it a go , my love!! Dramione is one of my guilty pleasures, so this should be fun!

It had been a long time since she could lay and just be. The war had been over and done for a while now, coming up to 5 years, and the Wizarding World had finally got back on it’s feet and recovered as much as it could from what had happened in the past. And right now, in this moment Hermione was content to just lay in silence and just be. Her eyes were closed, her breathing even and there was a welcome weight of anothers arm laying over her waist. The arm belonged to someone she never thought she would see herself laying with, not in a million years; Draco Malfoy.

Hermione turned her head to look at him, her hand resting on the arm that was on her waist, drawing small shapes on his skin. He wasn't asleep, but his eyes were closed and there was a soft smile on his face. That’s right, there was a soft smile on Draco Malfoy’s face, and Hermione made that happen, and hopefully will continue to do so.

“Why are you staring at me, Granger?” His voice held mirth and Hermione couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

“Has anyone ever told you, you’re kind of beautiful when you smile?” She whispered, moving a hand up to his face and tracing a fingertip down his nose. Draco huffed out a breath and opened his eyes to look at her.

“I used to get told I was handsome and beautiful all the time.” He smirked at her and she rolled her eyes. “But hearing it come from you means a lot more than you would imagine.” Hermione smiled at him, and he smiled back, and in that moment there was nothing but the two of them, no one else, no sounds of cars or people chattering out of the window, it was just them and it was amazing...until there was banging at the door of her flat.

“Urgh.” Hermione groaned and made her way to get up out of bed to answer the door, but Draco pulled her back and shook her head.

“Don’t answer it. Pretend you’re not here.” He pleaded with her, moving forward to place a kiss to the tip of her nose. She smiled and nodded her agreement.

“Hermione! We know you’re in there, your car is parked out front. Open the door, or I’m using my wand to get in.” Harry’s voice was loud and stern and Hermione knew she wasn’t going to get out of answering him.

Groaning she got up and Draco followed, knowing that the interaction that would follow was not something that was going to be pleasant at all. Hermione moved to answer the door and as soon as it was open, both Harry and Ron burst in, they were both sporting looks of anger and contempt.

“What is he doing here?” Ron spat angrily, glaring at Draco with so much hate it almost felt like it was burning Hermiones skin.

“Nice to see you to, Weasley.” Draco muttered with just as much hatred. Hermione sighed, not wanting this to turn into a full out wand fight.

“Please Ronald-” Hermione started, before being cut of by Harry.

“’Mione, I thought we’d talked about this.” Hermione sighed and went to interrupt. “He’s no good for you, you know that.” Ron was nodding. Hermione could feel Draco behind her, and her rage was slowly building in the pit of her stomach.

“Seriously Hermione, you have made some stupid decisons, but dating a death eater is probably the worst thing you could ever do. What exactly are you trying to prove here, Hermione? Please just end this-” Ron was abruptly cut off from his slew of insult that were bound to come out.

“Now you listen here Ronald Weasley.” Both Harry and Ron straightened at the tone, taking them back to their school years. “I’m not going to apologies for this. Not anymore. I am a grown woman, and I can make my own decisions about my life. What happened in the past doesn’t matter anymore and Draco has more than made up for what his family forced him to do.” Harry and Ron’s faces fell in this moment, as if only now were they seeing how firecely protective of Draco Hermione had become, “Now, you can either accept my decision and get over yourselves, or you can not accept it and just deal with the fact that I am with Draco and there is nothing you can do to change my mind.” Hermione took a breath and calmed herself slightly. “I don’t want to lose any of you, Harry, Ron, you’re my best friends and we have been through way too much together to let something like this tear us apart.

“Please, can you just try to be happy for me. For the first time in 5 years I feel like I can breathe again. I know it’s unexpected and not really believable, but Draco does make me happy and I would really like it if you were all at least civil with each other.” Hermione took a big breath, indicating that she was finished.

“I can be civil, if they can.” Could be heard from behind her and a smile was fighting its way onto her face. Hermione raised an eyebrow in question at the other two men in the room. They looked at each other for a moment and then Harry nodded.

“Yeah, ‘Mione. We can try.” Harry agreed, elbowing Ron until he, too, nodded to agree.

“Okay, well, now that we’ve got that sorted, can you please leave, I was having a nice time doing nothing for the first time in three weeks.” Hermione gestured to the door, and, even though they looked a little reluctant to go, they both nodded and made to leave. “I call you later and we can get together at the weekend to catch up, okay?”

“Sure, ‘Mione.” Ron smiled at his best friend, leaning forward to kiss her cheek before making his way out. Harry did the say, hugging her briefly and saying goodbye, before leaving her flat and shutting the door behind himself.

“Well, that was a sure fire way to ruin a day.” Draco muttered, and as Hermione turned to look at the man behind her, she noticed that the crease between his eyebrows was back and he was frowning. She sighed, making her way over to him and, pressing up onto her tip toes, she pulled her face to downwards to place a kiss to his lips.

“Come on, lets go back and lay down, forget this happened.” Draco nodded, pulling her with him back to the position they were in before they were so rudely interrupted.

Send me a sentence starter and a pairing and I’ll write you a thing!

#dramione #dramione fanfiction #dramione drabble #send me a sentence started and a pairing and ill write you a thing #draco and hermione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #draco x hermione fanfiction #draco x hermione drabble #harry potter #harry potter writing #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #fandom writng #dramion imagine #imagines #imagine #writing

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jalenocean · 4 years

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i don’t bet upset when people see my status & the shoe fits or i’m actually talking about them & they ask what’s up. the truth is for one you should forgive yourself. my truth is is that you should feel offended 100% & it’s ok to feel like that. it should hurt when you see what your actions have caused in full health or not it should hurt to see people you care about in a way suffering from your actions. cause at the point in time you probably didn’t care. might suck to see it but tbh unless it’s some manipulative bs i don’t think people understand how that makes the other person feel. you finally care lmao it may have took all that to finally care but at least you do at least it shows at least nobody has to second guess. it’s a nice feeling to trust a comfortable natural easy feeling because everybody knows not trusting someone you’re around often feels like there is a target on your back, always looking over your shoulder, fbi searching, fact checking, deep paronoia, constant fear, the little things start to stick out & not in a good way. you can hear there voice over millions of other people talking, when she don’t text back but you see her active on social media texting her friends to see what’s up just doing real life bat crazy shit. then finally when you sit down w yourself & review your day & decisons you made you realize you look dumb. over exerting energy in a area that should be nothing but comforting etc. the one thing i’ve learned if anything about this place is everyday it’s a war zone outside & that’s outside of anything comforting as in anything that brings you peace & joy. ( as well as your home ) you might not see it you might not hear it or hear about it you might not be in it but at all times it’s a war. so at this point because i know life can’t be all rainbows & roses i need peace comfort trust & love in everything that brings me those things & do my best to keep the peace & love there as well as respect. it’s not even life is too short for a lot of things life is too painful to be having pain in the things & places that do & are supposed to bring you love peace respect & joy

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annavaught-posts · 7 years

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This summer (and this autumn) I have thought of small things. I’ve been looking at microcosms, at the little piece of ivory (I’m quoting Jane Austen) that is my life. I’ve been focused on my community and on my garden – most specifically on its plants and animals of all sizes. On birds and butterflies; insects; bees. Barry the hedgehog (more on him later), Gavin the bat and Wayne the pigeon or, rather Wayne’s descendants (Ditto.) And I’ve been minded to observe other places I know well – and really to look at them properly. That’s why I have a collection of Pembrokeshire sea glass on my window sill and a display of tiny crab, auger and razon shells on the bathroom shelf.

Three chickens.

Three cats.

Three boys.

A little background.

I don’t know about you, but I have experienced the past year as relentless and deeply stressful. Actually, I do know lots of people have felt this way. That’s partly why I’ve just written a piece for the next Patrician Press anthology (My Europe) on how I felt, the day after the Brexit vote, at my youngest lad’s school sports’ day. Traumatised, that’s what. You don’t need me to tell you about Trump, but I’m married to an American and my mother in law cries on the phone about it. So. Were you to look at social media over the past year, you’d have seen many people lamenting the state of the world, writing about armageddon. We’d had three big bereavements and that’s just the tip of what’s been happening for us… So much – and by this summer, I felt I was also struggling with my writing – time, space, skill; meeting then no; full manuscript, long pause, then no. Now, I am not complaining as this is hardly unusual, but it became neccessary to address how I felt: that it had stopped being a joy and had become, instead, about defeat and stress and competition. It had become about working quickly in order to prove that I could catch up for starting late. Well that’s no good, because if it’s like this, it’s nothing. It’s based on false premises; on assumptions; on thinking that anyone’s actually looking. My teaching was going well, but I was unable to see it and I think you can see where this is heading.

By the end of July, I felt consumed by worry and permanently under the weather; I could not enjoy things other than distractedly. I realised I was becoming ill. I had a couple of dissociative episodes. (Read about those elsewhere. Like on the NHS page: http://www.nhs.uk/conditions/dissociative-disorders/Pages/Introduction.aspx#Types-of-dissociative-disorder.) One was at the end of the morning school run. Top work. A distracted and unsafe-feeling walk in drizzle was its beginning. They are frightening, but I’ve met them before. Time to find a sympathetic ear and also, while being mindful of what’s going on in the world, and proactive, to understand that I don’t help anyone or any situation by reacting with anxiety. That prolonged stress, however much I call myself an ‘I can do this’ tiger, is a risk for this mind and in a predictable way. And I’ll not be so productive if I go mad again. So you see, I am writing about necessity as well as the choice or responsibility to regard and serve beauty and other living things.

So. Too much in my head, then.

Time, as I recover, to think small. Domestics. Things closer to home. Some of it was really there but not being given enough time and joy; some was new this summer. And I wonder if some of what I describe may sound twee. Can’t help that. But as I describe homespun happiness, let me tell you that, with my background, we are talking about necessity too. And also, with three boys, about calm and about their feeling love and health in their family home. I grew up in a beautiful place, but not once can I look back at my childhood without a feeling of deep discomfort. I’ve written about that widely, for trauma is closely connected with dissociation and, of course, other mental health problems. So I have a notion of how it can be. In the home. It truly helps to think about your immediate environment. Not with competition, but in order to nurture what is already there. And I need to.

So who’s about?

Chickens. Three, as you saw. They are rescue girls. They started coming to live with us when my youngest, now six, was one. He thought they were the funniest things. Now, there is nothing like helping tend something (or someone!) back to life and health. When I collected our first batch of rescue hens, it was a shock. They were half bald; their combs very pale and flopping to one side. That first night they stood still, unsure what to do as darkness fell because they’d been housed under striplights. I lost a few of these first girls quite quickly because they cannot always cope with the bacteria in the ground, owing to poor natural immunity. They have not had a natural life and their peck of dirt. I had a couple I reckon died simply of shock, but we’ve done our best with our girls – the current community (and I’ve plans for more, but no more boys and…probably…no more cats) – are called Cookie, Cocoa and Frostie. Along the way, we’ve also had Cupcake and Florence (where Grandma is from) and, once, a particularly pathetic arrival which my teenage son called, unaccountably, Stacey.

These girls are such a pleasure. They chuckle and crow and coo. It does not take long to nurse them to health and they eat well – scraps, pellets, bugs; mealworms as a treat. They do hilarious things like jump on two rigid little legs for a bunch of grapes bounced up and down on elastic. I’ve made them things – like the ‘pecky log’, the hollows of which I fill with peanut butter. Their bald bits grow back, their eyes brighten and their combs take colour and stand erect. And their eggs are beautiful, too. When I talk to them, they answer back and I pick them up and walk with them. Hens respond well to conversation and to human contact. Well, we all do. Occasionally they escape and I once came home and found all three, in a row, chuckling at the garden gate they could actually have flown over. Then, one of them told me that they were only going so far because they liked living with us. Their personalities are clearly different and my six year old would tell you that Frostie is grumpy, Cocoa is shy and Cookie is confident but has very good manners.

They make me happy. If you are interested in rehoming, here:

http://www.bhwt.org.uk/about-us/

It is a scandal that these poor creatures live in such awful conditions – and don’t be fooled by the ‘enriched cages’ system that came into place as an improvement. It is still –must be – a miserable, compacted, humiliating life. But you can consider doing something about that, though give them space and time.

Insects. I ordered in our firewood early this year, and we set about making log piles here and there over the summer holiday. These make a haven for woodlice and all sorts of creepy crawlies, thereby helping to strengthen and diversify what you have going on in your garden. There’s a place and a need for all these beasties. We also made the decison, earlier in this year, to leave only part of the garden tidy. I don’t know why I didn’t do this before. In the scruffy area around the kids’ trampoline and next to the chicken run, I’ve seeded wildflowers and planted bee mats (which are a biodegradable garden weft that’s full of seeds for plants bees like). You can get these and the seed at any garen centre. Also, seed your own. Shake heads from poppies or whatever crops up there or elsewhere in your garden. So this Summer of Small Things, we’ve been able to peek at bugs and, also, to watch what popped up in scruffy garden. What we planted; what arrived. There’s campion, poppies, foxgloves, scabious; different types of grass; some wheat and even a head or two of barley have popped up too. It’s serendipitous, healthy and it makes me feel calm and productive. And there are are more bees and butterflies about, whereas before it just seemed to be the occasional cabbage white. Now, I see meadow blue. And took joy in a comma.

In addition to the scruffy patch, the youngest and I set about putting in extra lavender and thyme plants for the bees and two buddleia for the butterflies. I’ve fitted in a few small trees here and there (we don’t have a massive garden, but it is stuffed to the gills!) and attached extra bird feeders (NOT above your chicken run, though), ladybird and bee houses (pretty little turquoise ones – did I say how much colour is a boost to my mood?) and I’m making a hedgehog house because we are being visited regularly by a hedgehog we’ve named Barry. Just the other night, Barry turned up with a small hedgehog which the kids think is his very small hedgehog partner but looks more like a babe to me; hedgehogs have their litters (usually) in June and July in case you were wondering. And I was sure to watch the swifts, swallows and house martins. There were nests near by. And to sit outside or lie on the grass at twilight and watch the bats, especially the one (and I do know it’s not necessarily the same one!) the littlee has named Gavin.

I met a student of mine the other day. That is, someone I taught ten years ago. His warmest memory was not nailing A Streetcar Named Desire or UCAS applications or anything, but the fact that he’d remembered what I’d told him about birdsong in one of the digressions that are, I think, a key part of teaching; of life. It was the sound of a wood pigeon on a roof. ‘What is that?’ ‘Don’t you know?’ said I. ‘That’s a wood pigeon and he sang, “My toe bleeds Betty” three times and then an urgent, “Look!”‘

And it’s true. Listen out. We have an old house, tall with three floors and a broad attic. A deep pleasure of mine is to hear a pigeon do his call from the chimney stack and listen to how his call reverberates through the wide chimney and out into the broad fireplace in our sitting room – and I love it. And lest you think I’ve turned into, I don’t know, Kirstie Allsop with my wide chimney and, get me, broad inglenook, let me tell you that, once upon a time, I bought this place, semi-derelict, and it has been done up very slowly. It is quirky and unfinished and full of old rugs and thousands of books and therein is love. My in laws and much extended family think we are living in a house that’s too eccentric and too small and express dislike of it. But wherein did those criteria evolve? There’s warmth; soft beds; loads of stuff to do and cunning places to hang out and hide. Why don’t you come round? I’d love that, really.

If I have any dream about raising my family here, it’s that people come in and get comfortable and chuck their shoes off. If they feel sad, I’ve got lots of blankets and, like I said, places to hide in. And I want the boys to witness that: what you might construct a home of. There’s a cellar under the kitchen (this place used to be a pub), accessed by a dangerous ladder and on the rainy days, we play football in that cellar and I’ve let them, ferrals, graffiti the walls. Because you don’t need all the gubbins you think you do or someone told you you had to factor in because you were…I don’t know…successful…a parent…middle class…Oh – (apologies but I also love cursing) – slightly fuck off. We feel that this house, as it has evolved, looks after us. I used to be swayed by criticism of it. But not any more. Comfort and a feeling that a house welcomes you in are not small things. I was reflecting on that, this summer, too. About the feelings that are engendered in and by a place.

Oh yes – I mentioned Wayne the pigeon. He was a fellow with a bad wing and I nursed him back to health and off he flew. A bit wobbly but he nixed it. Please don’t tell he was thereafter beaten up by the other pigeons. But anyway, when I hear ‘My toe bleeds Betty’ on our chimney stack, I tell the kids that these are likely the descendants of Wayne. The older ones think I’m a mad old git person, but they love it anyway.

Cats. Three rescue. One was a dubious ‘return’ to the animal shelter; the other two car park kittens. Max; Ginger; Daisy. The first is a bit moody and known locally as the Chubmeister because he’s convinced some older residents here and there that he’d benefit from a snack and has become truly portly; the second can do tricks – like jump through a hoop to retrieve a pom pom – and she especially loves glitter pom poms. When you come down in the morning, she’s sitting waiting, with the glitter pom pom. Throw my pompom, person. I derive intense happiness from this silly, tiny thing. Oh and third cat: local teenagers refer to her as ‘Kitler’ because of her unfortunate marking. (No need to elaborate.) And did I say that we once hatched a load of ladybird larvae and, extraordinarily, there’s a crack in the plaster near where we set them free from their little hatchery and they come back and overwinter in that crack, just above my thirteen year old’s bed?

And the summer. Just down to my family in Pembrokeshire. Clifftops and shell collecting; going out on the boats and watching the shadows in the water (jellyfish); my telling them where the basking shark lie and about secret footpaths. Watching the comical puffins off skomer and the porpoises and dolphins in the bay. Waiting expectantly for the seals to come into pup. Bewhiskered old man seals. Rock pools. Telling them to shuffle their feet so as to avoid weever fish.

All these things. Pretty things and being lost in and awed by the natural world. Simultaneously, of course, imperfection and mess and stress. Confusion and moil and toil. Donald Trump on twitter and the profligate disregard he and his family appear to have for others; it makes me cry to see someone so arrogant with such an egregiously limited world view. You can do some things and I could never not petition or challenge, and I cannot ever be the sort of person who can decide not to look. I tried once. I – I’m sorry if this sounds judgemental – felt that I was cruel and vacuous to try to switch off and focus only on self care (as I had been several times advised to do), because why do we exist if not to make lives better for one another? And in looking out, there is purpose for you.

But there are the other things to think about too so that a line can, at some point, be drawn. Your health; the little piece of ivory; the wildlife and animals you can look at, nurse and encourage right beside you. You can be a steward of what’s around you and revel in its beauty too: that’s why there’s a pile of foraged quinces sitting in our fireplace. They are russet and lime green and they smell oriental, as old and time and deeply familar all in one rush.

So yes, The Summer of Small Things. Time to reflect and to move more slowly in a world that had been whirling. It’s a start. And, like I said, come round. Bring seeds. Or buns. Agapanthus seed heads I can hang up for decorations. ‘Please take’ pears from the box down the lane. And Frostie, Cookie and Cocoa are rolling in dust baths but would love it if you have some leftover spaghetti. They think it’s worms and run from each other to secrete their haul before devouring it. Come see.

Anna x

The Summer of Small Things This summer (and this autumn) I have thought of small things. I've been looking at microcosms, at the little piece of ivory (I'm quoting Jane Austen) that is my life.

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