#cannot be happier or more proud of this incredible woman

[silenceismychoir]

"I grew up in a world where a woman who looks like me, with my kind of skin and my kind of hair, was never considered to be beautiful. And I think that it is time that that stops today. I want children to look at me and see my face, and I want them to see their faces reflected in mine."

— Zozibini Tunzi, Miss Universe 2019

#QUEEN #this is so important #today is a great day #cannot be happier or more proud of this incredible woman #zozibini tunzi #miss universe #miss universe 2019 #miss south africa #south africa #women of colour #my post #z's ramblings

[zalrb]

tv rewatch: gg edition, ep. 10

“Hey, so has Blair mentioned who’s escorting her?” Nate, you cannot be serious.

“Every time I see her, she’s lighter, she’s happier, she’s less ... ... Blair.” Nate, sit down.

“With my dad in rehab, the pressure is off and I can see Blair clearly” but the pressure wasn’t on for your entire relationship, Nate. Shut up.

“Jenny, what are you even doing here?” Serena, that sounds way more hostile than you intended.

“Oh, hello, mother.” LOL Lily. She is SO unsung.

“Isn’t she’s great?” “She’s ... she’s great, she’s something.” LOL READ BODY LANGUAGE, SERENA.

This Chair makeout is one of my favourites just because in the bloopers, they kept going and going until someone was finally like, “You take your own cue!” and Leighton was like OH!

“And the prince, you know, he’s a great dancer and all.” Lmao, Nate, shut up.

Cece’s manipulation is kind of low stakes tbh, like she uses her illness just to get Serena to do cotillion? 

Blair in jeans! 

Blair texting Chuck while with Nate is pretty cute. Ah, I always get in my Chair feels in the first two seasons.

“Allison, I didn’t expect to see you ... here.” LILY’S SHADE.

Dan in his striped shirt.

His hair is steadily becoming less offensive.

LOL Sebastian Stan in this is always funny now.

“Where were you?” “Where wasn’t he? Gossip Girl even had a designated Carter map on Spotted.” Shouldn’t  you know this, Dan, since, you know, you’re gossip girl?

“I also went pheasant hunting with the sheik while I was there.” I thought you disowned your parents and didn’t have their money?

Jenny’s dress is awful.

“Then you are grounded for a week” “WHAT???” Lol OK, Jenny.

I know I keep saying it but kdramas do class divides so much better. Cece’s speech is too pointed.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on, I just became your escort to the ball.” Lmao  I feel like Dan and Lily are the same person.

“I would just like to say how proud I am of Miss Waldorf and her commitment to Mr. Archibald EVEN THOUGH HE RUINED HER 17TH BIRTHDAY...” this is the most teen thing Chuck has ever done.

I LOVE HOW OLD THE PHONES ARE and they were hot shit back then.

Serena does not look incredible, Dan.

“Serena, that’s what I’m trying to tell you, that woman is the most manipulative person I’ve ever met.” Except for me BECAUSE I’M GOSSIP GIRL.

OK but honestly, what Cece is doing is bullying not manipulation, it’s too direct for it to be manipulation. Telling Lily about that she’s sick so Serena can go to cotillion is manipulative, yes, but the rest of it is just straight up intimidation tactics, she’s using her money as a weapon. They could’ve also gone further with the Lily thing by telling Lily that this is what she wants but she doesn’t want Serena to know that she’s sick so Lily puts her foot down about cotillion and says she has to go or else, thereby making Lily the villain while she remains the cool, free-spirited grandmother because when that DOES happen, it’s too late. It should be an ongoing thing.

“She makes your mother look like Gandhi.” “That’s my grandmother you’re talking about.” LMAO LILY GETS NO LOVE.

“Let’s get Carter on the phone.”

This scene could’ve been better. Dan’s delivery of this revelation was pretty bad because his sarcasm took precedence that he didn’t try to speak to Serena delicately and Serena wasn’t asking the right questions. Dan is like “she offered to buy my dad off so I wouldn’t come tonight” and she’s just like “Nope.” Dan could be like, why would I lie? and Serena could talk about how there could be a mistake, she could call out Dan’s tone and then he leaves and when Cece comes instead of her automatically being like, k time for Carter, she could milk the grandmother routine and say how she’d never do such a thing, she doesn’t understand why he’d lie about this etc. Like manipulation takes a lot more subtlety than what’s going on. This is all way too direct.

Lmao Nate is so unbearable this episode.

“Make it stop, you sound like me.” LMAO, BLAIR.

Chuck is more manipulative than Cece.

Cece does look like she’s about to go catatonic after that “beds as many billionaires as she can” line though. Well done.

How did TVD do a better ball scene than GG?

I also prefer The O.C.’s cotillion. Lmao because it actually tried to look like a legit cotillion.

But The Pierces in the background is pretty atmospheric even though it’s also absolutely ridiculous that they’re performing at a debutante ball.

“SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND.” oh, nate.

“And you said if I did this I could be myself but you don’t really want that do you?” “That’s not entirely true.” I DIED. LILY.

“All you care about when people look at me is what they think of you” but the thing is I need to see this? Like I need to see Lily being directly affected by Serena’s choices, see how society looks at her and their family for this to be more than dialogue.

I totally forgot that Serena had already slept with Carter.

“When I was your age, I would’ve been lucky to find a guy like you. And I kind of did.” That’s his father, Lily.

Also really, what was Rufus like in the past then? Like what kind of rockstar was he?

Oh Chuck, just can’t win.

Serena turning around to see Dan at cotillion is pretty sweet, ngl.

The problem with this cotillion plot line is that it’s too small. Like if this is about legacy and if this is actually about introducing Serena to society then we need to see what cotillion actually means in this world, we need to see how big of a deal it is, one reporter showing up to interview Blair doesn’t mean anything. We need to see Lily’s and Cece’s peers gossip and talk. Also if this is all about how Cece’s values are old-fashioned then either cotillion needs to be the traditional white dress, white gloves ball

or it’s what we see and Cece complains about how modern/contemporary it’s getting.

Chuck is so Chuck. “Hey! Have you seen Blair Waldorf?” reminds me of when I went up to an acquaintance and I didn’t say hi I just asked where my friend was, I was like “Where’s Scott?” and from then on he - the acquaintance - just called me “Where’s Scott?”

Chuck looks genuinely heartbroken at seeing Blair and Nate. *sigh* too bad they get absolutely terrible.

Nate’s grin is so cringe, lol.

Rufly angst! “I never should’ve let you let me go.” DE could never.

APOLOGIZE, YASSSSSSSSSSSSS. SONG IS STILL A BOP DON’T @ ME.

I’m holding on your rope got me ten feet off the grouuuuuuuuuuuuund.

I know this is a Derena moment but what makes it for me is Serena looking at Lily to see if she can go with him and Lily saying yes. It’s a Serena/Lily moment for me.

Oh Blair, Nate doesn’t deserve sex with you.

Chuck, leaving the city, you are so DRAMATIC.

xoxo, zalrb.

[arofili]

HCs about Elemmírë?

Oh man, for a character we have next to no information about other than “Vanya” and “sang a really sad song about the Trees,” I have a lot of headcanons for Elemmírë!

First of all, Elemmírë is named after a heavenly body (possibly Arda’s version of Mercury?) and the name is not given in either a masculine or feminine form, so we don’t know Elemmírë’s canon gender. This of course means that Elemmírë is trans, you can’t change my mind! I’ve seen depictions of them as nonbinary, which I love, but personally my Elemmírë is a trans woman!

All the rest of my headcanons are pretty much made up whole cloth :)

I intended to make like, a bullet point list of headcanons, but I ended up referencing my recently created personal timeline of the Years of the Trees and the First Age, and...it kind of expanded into an essay on Elemmírë’s role in the larger story of that verse of mine. So, under the cut is a roughly 2,000 word essay on my take on this blank slate of a character!

~

Elemmírë is one of the Unbegotten elves who awoke at Cuiviénen. When she awoke, everyone assumed she was a male elf, which didn’t really sit right with her but she didn’t know how to express herself at the time. For the first part of her life she lived as a nér.

Elemmírë has a sister*, Calima (one of my OCs). Calima marries an Avar, who she manages to drag with her on the Great Journey despite his reluctance to go West. Right before Ulmo takes the Vanyar and the Noldor to Aman, Calima’s husband leaves her and disappears into Taur-im-Duinath...but not before Calima becomes pregnant. Elemmírë comforts her and supports her through the birth of her child, Elenwë - the first child to be born in Aman.

*(My headcanon around Unbegotten siblings is that some elves woke with soul bonds that connected them to other elves, which while they aren’t genetically related, they consider to be siblings of their fëa. This is the case for Elwë, Olwë, and Elmo; I also gave Nowë (Círdan) and Ingwë OC siblings. Finwë is a loner, which is part of why he’s so concerned about creating and keeping a marriage bond...)

While Ingwë is busy building Tirion with Finwë, his sister-in-law Alcariniel (the mother of Indis; her spouse died on the Great Journey and has yet to be reborn) leads some of the Vanyar to the foot of Taniquetil and founds what will become Valmar. Calima, Elenwë, and Elemmírë go with Alcariniel.

At this time, Elemmírë enters into the service of Varda. She develops a close relationship with her Vala, and feels more comfortable in the beautiful starry robes and among the company of mostly priestesses than she ever did in the more gendered Vanyarin society. She sings and composes hymns to Varda and the heavens.

About a century later, Elemmírë is an established and well-renowned musician in Valmar. It is then that she meets Findis, daughter of Indis, when Findis is visiting Taniquetil with her grandmother Alcariniel. Findis greatly admires Elemmírë’s songs and engages her in a discussion about poetry; the two quickly become friends.

After another hundred years or so, Findis’ half-brother Fëanáro has his fourth child. Finwë invites his whole family to the celebration; Findis now lives in Valmar and does not always attend these begetting day parties, but she happens to be in Tirion for the occasion - with Elemmírë, who tags along to the party.

At the celebration, Makalaurë (a young teen in Elf Years) sings a piece he wrote for his new baby brother, and Elemmírë is greatly impressed by his talent and offers to teach him personally. He’s had music tutors before, but none so renowned, and he is absolutely star-struck. Fëanáro has an inherent distrust of the Vanyar, but he cannot deny his son anything, especially when it comes to furthering his craft, so he agrees to let Elemmírë teach Makalaurë, on the condition that she move to Tirion. Findis offers to move back as well, so her friend won’t be alone; they move in together.

A few years later, Elemmírë takes her star student Makalaurë to Valmar so he can perform at her niece’s 200th begetting day party. This is, of course, Elenwë; Makalaurë is immediately besotted with her, and does his best to impress her. Of course, Elenwë is well into adulthood and Makalaurë is still an awkward adolescent, so nothing ever comes of this, but they do eventually become friends.

All this time, everyone has assumed that Elemmírë is a nér, but with every passing year she becomes more and more certain that is not actually the case. At last she confesses to her dear friend Findis that she thinks she might be a nís, and while Findis isn’t quite sure what that means at first, she’s very supportive and encourages Elemmírë to go to Varda with this revelation.

I do operate in a verse where some homophobia and transphobia exist in Aman, kind of accidently put into place by a well-meaning but ultimately harmful decision by Manwë, but Varda is significantly more chill than her husband. She doesn’t really get what Elemmírë is saying, but she supports her servant’s change in expression. Elven gender roles are pretty loose, so it’s not really that much of a difference, and with Varda’s support Elemmírë feels more confident in herself and comes out to the public.

Most elves, especially the Vanyar, likewise don’t really get it, and privately they still see her as a nér, but there is a firm taboo against rudeness which means they will refer to Elemmírë with the correct pronouns and honorifics and such because it would be incredibly rude not to. The discomfort with someone else’s non-normative expression is easier to deal with than the social impropriety of deliberately refusing to respect someone’s wishes about their personal identity.

This, along with Varda’s kind-of-confused-but-she’s-still-got-the-spirit support of  Elemmírë means it’s a pretty smooth transition process for her. Since her name isn’t gendered, she decides to keep it, and she is much happier now that she can express her true self. She also has a staunch ally in Findis, who she has recently begun courting.

Again, there is some homophobia in my verse, and two níssi in a relationship is generally frowned upon, but the half-acceptance of Elemmírë’s gender allows them to exploit a loophole in that particular Law/Custom. Manwë, at least, still sees Elemmírë as a nér, and so doesn’t see anything wrong with her dating Findis. It’s not the ideal situation, but Elemmírë and Findis aren’t really the “fight the system” type, so they’re content to live with the happiness they’ve been allowed.

Eventually, Makalaurë reaches his first coming of age** and Elemmírë takes her student on a tour of all Eldamar to show off how exceptional a musician he has become. He is declared a master singer, and leaves Elemmírë’s side to pursue mastery in instruments, beginning with the harp. His teacher couldn’t be more proud.

**(In my headcanon, elves have two coming-of-age ceremonies: one when they reach age 50, and are considered physically mature and old enough to be given more freedoms in their decisions, including now being of a socially acceptable age to start dating; and the other at age 100, where they are considered a Full Adult and able to marry. Sometimes elves marry younger than that, but it isn’t super common. Age pretty much stops mattering, especially when it comes to age gaps in relationships, when an elf is about 150.)

Not long after this, Elemmírë and Findis get married! Makalaurë performs his then-masterpiece at their wedding. Also at the wedding, Findekáno is caught up in all the glorious romance, and the possibilities of same-gender marriage now that two níssi (one a princess!) can be wed, and confesses the depth of his love for Maitimo. Maitimo...immediately panics and brings up all the reasons why their love is doomed, how their aunts are the exception and not the rule and besides there’s that loophole they’re taking advantage of that doesn’t really work for néri like us - but notably does not deny that he feels the same way. Findekáno is heartbroken by the rejection; Maitimo is terrified of his feelings and distances himself from his beloved cousin for a time.

But of course that doesn’t last long - and it’s at the celebration of the birth of Laurefindil, Findis and Elemmírë’s son, that Maitimo brings himself to reconcile with Findekáno...platonically. Of course. Until a few months later where he just can’t take it anymore and breaks down and confesses he can’t deny his feelings any longer, and they get together at long last.

Findis, Elemmírë, and Laurefindil return to Valmar and settle down there. Laurefindil is buds with both his Vanyarin cousin Elenwë and his oodles of Noldorin cousins. At his first coming of age celebration, he introduces his cousin Elenwë (on Elemmírë’s side) to his cousin Turukáno (on Findis’ side), and Turukáno immediately falls madly in love and begins some intense pining that will rival even his older brother’s romantic dramatics.

As strife grows among the Noldor, Findis and Elemmírë distance themselves from Tirion as much as they can; Makalaurë is pretty much the only Finwëan who is allowed to visit them. However, Laurefindil misses his Noldorin cousins and, after his second coming of age, chooses to move to Tirion and join his grandfather Finwë’s court. He becomes even closer to Turukáno (who has by now married Elenwë) and is very loyal to his older cousin.

At the Darkening, Elemmírë is deeply grieved at the destruction of the Two Trees, and it is then that she composes her most famous song, the Aldudénië, “Lament for the Trees.” Her grief is compounded when her son chooses to go into exile with his Noldorin kin - and, almost worse, when her niece Elenwë chooses to leave as well.

Elenwë is the only Vanya who leaves (well, the only Vanya who is fully culturally Vanyarin without any Noldorin ancestry), mostly because she cannot bear to be separated from her husband and young daughter, but also because she knows the story of her Avarin father who stayed behind in Endórë and hopes that she will meet him on the hither shore. (Unfortunately, she perishes crossing the Ice. Idril will eventually meet her maternal grandfather, but not until just before she and Tuor sail West. Elenwë is reborn in Aman shortly after the founding of Gondolin; she reunites with her Vanyarin family and with her good friend Amárië.)

I don’t have a whole lot of headcanons for Elemmírë and Findis during the events of the First Age; they live mostly a quiet life. I think Elemmírë rededicates herself to the service of Varda, and pleads with her Vala to show mercy for the Noldor in their need. (Perhaps that helped to convince Varda’s husband to send an eagle to Thangorodrim?)

When they hear of Laurefindil’s death in the Fall of Gondolin (because of course Glorfindel followed his favorite cousin Turgon to his hidden city, and got a noble house out of it!), Elemmírë and Findis grieve his loss all over again. They don’t know how long it will be before his rebirth, and they soon decide to have another child together. This is their daughter, Faniel, who grows up on stories about her brother’s bravery.

Eventually Glorfindel is reborn, and he has a few good centuries in Aman with his family (and his husband Ecthelion, who he finally gets to marry; they had gotten betrothed the day before Gondolin fell, RIP) before the Valar send him back to Middle-earth to play the hero again. Elemmírë and Findis are once again heartbroken to lose him, but they are at the same time incredibly proud of their son for his bravery and dedication to all things good in the world. This time, he leaves with the blessing of Varda, his mother’s patron Vala, and a promise that he will return when his task is complete. He does, but not until the Fourth Age, when he sails back to Valinor with Elladan and Elrohir!

#silm #silmarillion #headcanons #elemmire #findis #findimmire #trans tolkien #glorfindel #elenwe #oc calima #maglor #varda #ataquenta #tefain nin #my writing #anon #answers #oc alcariniel #comings and goings #stage fright #this got long WOW #also! some background russingon :)

[the-lightning-mage]

OC Interview: Beatrix Cousland

I saw this floating around and decided to do it for some of mine (Graham’s up next). I’m including some of my own questions, and I’ve seen various other questions used by different people. If you specifically came up with some of them, let me know so I can credit you! This is for my Warden and is set anywhere from after the beginning of Act 1 of DA2 to before she leaves to find the cure.

Introduction

Can you introduce yourself?

She smirks and scoffs slightly before she starts talking, “Prepare yourself for a long list of titles. I am Beatrix Cousland, Arlessa of Amaranthine, Warden-Commander of Ferelden, Queen of Ferelden, and Hero of Ferelden. But those closest to me call me Bea.”

What is your gender identity, orientation, and relationship status?

“I am a woman. I like men and women, though I do have a preference for men. And,” her smirk breaks into a full blown grin, “I am married to the most wonderful man in all of Thedas. You may know him as King Alistair, but he’s more than that.”

Where and when were you born? 

“I was born in Castle Cousland in Highever, like all other Couslands before me, and I was born in 9:10 Dragon.”

What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

“I’m good with any blade really, though I stay away from Greatswords. In front of people who have not seen me fight before, I enjoy dual-wielding longswords, because the look of intimidation is priceless. I usually spring for two daggers though. One of which belonged to Duncan,” a slight look of sadness appeared on her face, but she shook her head and continued, “As for my fighting style... I’m a rogue, through and through. My friend Zevran taught me some of the techniques that the Antivan Crows use, and a friend of his, a pirate, taught me her personal style of dueling when we met her in The... we met her Denerim.”

Lastly, are you happy?

“I am, now. I struggled to find happiness in the beginning of the Blight. I don’t think I would’ve made it without Alistair. But now? I’m happier than I thought I would be. I miss my family, and my friends, but I am in the best place I could be now.”

Family and Friends

What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

That look of sadness is back, “My... most of my blood relatives are dead. My parents, my nephew, my sister-in-law... The only close relative that is still alive is my older brother, Fergus, and he is very, very dear to me. I of course have Alistair. I love him more than anything in the world. Then there is the Wardens and my closest friends, and I consider them my family,” the sadness fades, and she starts laughing, “If you had told me that I would consider Nathaniel Howe family back when the Blight started I would’ve never have had believed you.”

Have you ever ran away from home?

“Hmmm... I’ve sneaked out, and I’ve fled from my home, but I’ve never ran away.”

Would you consider marriage or having children?

“I’m already married, so I did consider marriage. Now, I don’t think I would ever remarry if... well, I don’t want to think about that. As for children... I want to have children, but,” she places a hand on her stomach, “Wardens. Our fertility is so low that it’s practically non-existent. And given that both Alistair and I have gone through the Joining... At the very least we will adopt a child. Maker knows that they could use it. The nobles who oppose it can go to the Void.”

Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

“Why would I be friends with someone I hate?” She makes a disgusted face, “Am I friendly with people I dislike on the other hand? Yes, sadly. It’s part of being both a Commander and part of the nobility. It’s one of the biggest downfalls of the nobility.”

Which friend knows everything about you?

“Well, Alistair of course, but that’s a given. Other than him... it’s probably a rather odd tie between Zevran and Nathaniel. How Nathaniel and I got to that point... I still struggle to understand it. Leliana and I used to be closer, but I don’t get to see her as often as Zev.”

Other

Are you religious?

“It’s complicated. I believe in Andraste and the Maker, but the Chantry is a whole other beast. This world cannot be what Andraste had envisioned. I mean, look at how long it took for the Chantry we know to be established.”

What is one thing from your past that you would change?

“I would save Oren. As much as I hate saying it, saving my parents would change too much, but Oren. He was far too young.”

Are your parents proud of you, or would they be?

“I think so. When I said goodbye to my parents I think they believed that I would succeed as a Warden, but I don’t think they saw me becoming the Commander or Queen.”

Choices

Drink or food?

She gives an incredibly confused look, “What kind of question is that?”

Cats or dogs?

“I love all animals, but I am very Fereldan woman. I may or may not have an small army of mabaris in Denerim.”

Optimist or pessimist?

“I try to be an optimist. As Commander, I have to be. The Wardens under my command look to me, and I don’t want them to be scared. Though it can be hard sometimes. When I start to become more pessimistic, I focus on just the actions themselves.”

Sassy or Sarcastic?

“...Sarcastic?”

Have you ever

Been caught sneaking out?

“...yes. And no, I won’t be elaborating on that. I don’t think a certain person would appreciate it.”

Broken a bone?

“Yes, once when I was child. I was thrown from a horse. I broke my left arm. Then,” her face contorts in complete disgust, “when were dealing with the mess in Amaranthine, I broke some ribs. Those healed almost instantly thanks to Anders. It’s a shame he decided to leave, but I don’t hold it against him. The other Wardens are going to hate me for saying that.”

Received flowers?

“Look at my titles. Of course I have. The best however, was a single flower.” She gets a dreamy look as she continues to speak, “The first time Alistair really, really tried to flirt with me and tell me how he feels, he gave me this single rose. He had plucked it when we had stopped in Lothering. That moment when he had given it to me... Maker, it was easily the sweetest and cheesiest thing anyone had ever done for me. I am so happy to have him by my side.”

Ghosted someone?

“...No?”

Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

“Again. Look at the titles.”

#beatrix cousland #dragon age #dragon age origins #warden cousland #warden #dao

[obaewankenope]

The Second Life of Sandu Shengshou

Thanks to a dream I had several nights ago, I ended up writing this. It’s the beginning of a Multi-chaptered fic that can be read on AO3 here. I’m not even remotely sorry for this.

Not in the slightest. 

One

The day Sect Leader Jiang dies is a day that the entire cultivation world remembers. For them, the passing of the Jiang Sect Leader is an event not to be ignored or celebrated. It is a day to remember his amazing deeds; losing his entire Sect to the Wen and then rebuilding it from the ground up; becoming a living legend during the Sunshot Campaign; fighting and killing the Yiling Laozu; raising the son of his beloved A-Jie into a fine young man who took the mantle of Jin Sect Leader well; being part of revealing the truth of Jin Guangyao’s deceit to the entire cultivation world; fighting fierce corpses and holding demonic cultivators to account for their crimes.

The day Sect Leader Jiang dies is one to remember his deeds and those of his brother, the last of his family beside the Sect Leader Jin.

For Sect Leader Jiang, it’s just another day of enduring a tired soul and a damaged heart, pasted back together with anger and grief. He expects the day to end with his finally seeing his family and those of his Sect who died in the Wen attack, again.

He closes his eyes, takes his last breath, and lets go. The heavens greet him and Jiang Cheng sees his family once more.

He doesn’t expect to take another breath until his next reincarnation which will hopefully be happier than his current one has been.

Jiang Cheng does not expect to cough dusty air from his lungs and open his eyes to the sight of a fierce corpse intent on killing him.

Instinct honed by battle and years of training serve him well as Jiang Cheng kicks out at the corpse, sending it careening back with an application of spiritual energy. His hand scrambles for his sword, for Zidian but finds only dirt. He has no weapon but his body and his core.

Jiang Cheng grits his teeth. So be it.

He jumps to his feet, stumbling when the strength of his core seems greater than his body can handle, but recovers well enough to drop into a open-handed stance. The corpse moves toward him at speed and, just as it is close enough for Jiang Cheng to strike, somebody slams into it and away from him.

In the moment it takes Jiang Cheng to register the identity of the person who just barrelled into a fierce corpse, a half-dozen purple-robed cultivators appear from the darkness of what he realises are trees. He’s in a forest. The humidity in the air tells him its a Yunmeng forest, but figuring out where he is suddenly isn’t important anymore when he gets a glimpse of some of the faces of the cultivators.

_He recognises them. _

Shidi’s he’d seen slaughtered by Wen-dogs. His disciples, his responsibility and here they are; coming to his rescue like he was a child again.

Is this his heaven?

Jiang Cheng looks around. He’s in a small clearing, ground recently disturbed by what he assumed had been the fierce corpse rising. A glimmer of silver on the ground reveals Sandu’s location and he immediately picks it up, relieved to have it in his grip again.

Everything is easier with Sandu.

“Drop it Corpse!”

Jiang Cheng looks in the direction of the fierce corpse that had attacked him, expecting it to be holding something, but it was down on the ground, pinned by a very, very familiar blade.

His father’s.

That was his father’s sword. That meant-

“I said, drop it!” Someone shouts. Fifth shidi, Jiang Cheng guesses, judging by the tone.

He looks at the children he’d seen die once, and realises, with a jolt, that fifth shidi is talking to him!

“What? I’m not a corpse!” Jiang Cheng exclaims and then almost let’s out a surprised shout because his voice—his voice.

He sounds like a child! 

Jiang Cheng looks down at his hands gripping Sandu. Those are not the hands of a Sect Leader of one-hundred-and-three years. Those are- those-

“A fierce corpse cannot speak.” His father’s voice, the voice of Jiang Fengmian. “My son is dead, who are you to use his body so?”

Pingheng glows a pale violet in his father’s grip and Jiang stares at his father, open mouthed.

“What?”

Jiang Fengmian’s face looks like it’s carved from ice with no emotion to speak of. He looks more like Hanguang-Jun than the father Jiang Cheng remembers.

It’s incredibly disconcerting.

“I’m not- but- what!”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t understand what is happening. If this is heaven for him until he reincarnates then it sucks.

“Who are you?” Jiang Fengmian’s voice grows as cold as his expression and Jiang Cheng realises that it wasn’t just his mother that he got his temper from. His father’s is colder, but no less intense.

“I’m Jiang Cheng!” He is and he doesn’t understand what is happening but he’s not going to be anyone but himself. But that doesn’t mean he can’t improvise.

A childhood spent growing up with Wei Wuxian and then being the youngest Sect Leader during a war taught Jiang Cheng a lot. Mainly that he can bullshit just as good as his brother is he really, really needs to.

“I have- I’ve been sent back!” He exclaims, holding Sandu and pushing his spiritual energy into it to make the blade glow a deeper purple than his father’s blade. “I have come back from the heavens to protect the Sect! I swear on my sword and my core!”

Wei Wuxian would be proud of his attempt to not get attacked by his own father and shidi’s. Speaking of Wei Wuxian…

“Why should I believe you?”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t splutter in shock but it’s a near thing. He has no idea why his father should believe him be abuse Jiang Cheng doesn’t actually know what’s going on but he doesn’t want to die in the afterlife. That would just be embarrassing.

“I don’t know!” Jiang Cheng exclaims in frustration. “You never paid me any attention when Wei Wuxian was all you ever cared about!” There’s a ripple of surprise in the group of disciples and even his father’s face shows a crack in the stone facade at the jab at his father’s favouritism. “Honestly, I’m over it! But it’s not like you know enough about me for me to give you a reason to believe me in the first place!”

Jiang Cheng snorts. “Whatever,” he mutters. “Believe what you want, I don’t care.”

He has spent literal decades coming to terms with his father’s lack of favour for him and his mother’s general disappointment in him. He’s over it.

“A-Cheng.”

Pingheng drops to the ground and Jiang Cheng finds himself wrapped in an embrace he barely remembers. His father is real and solid and clinging to him with the same kind of desperate relief that Jiang Cheng clung to Wei Wuxian all those months after Lotus Pier was destroyed.

It’s the kind of embrace that is full of emotions that can’t be said aloud.

He doesn’t drop Sandu—he’s not his father and he fought in a war, he won’t drop his weapon—when he wraps his much smaller arms around his father’s chest and clings right back.

Jiang Cheng has no idea what’s going on but his father is weeping silently as he holds him and Jiang Cheng can’t remain emotionally distant from that. He just can’t.

Apparently, this afterlife has him dead as a child and his family and Sect have mourned him. What this means, Jiang Cheng doesn’t know, doesn’t really care, because right now he’s in his father’s arms for the first time since he was a small child and that’s more important than figuring out what the hell is going on.

One thing Jiang Cheng knows is a priority however is to find out where his shixiong is. Wei Wuxian will have some idea of what is happening; he always does.

Although he’s expecting it, the sight of Lotus Pier as he remembers it from his childhood is disorienting enough that Jiang Cheng wobbles on Sandu as they come in to land. His father reaches out to steady him, close enough to do so with ease and he’s been hovering around Jiang Cheng since he accepted his son is somehow alive again.

Jiang Cheng steadies himself and dismounts Sandu smoothly, and looks around his home with a more open expression than he intends to have judging by the look his father is giving him. He would hide it, the emotions he feels looking at Lotus Pier as it was before the Wen attack, but Jiang Cheng doesn’t want to. He’s spent one lifetime hiding his feelings, he refuses to spend another doing the same.

Not when he understands how precious this time is.

Of course, his emotional journey at seeing his home unharmed is ruined by the sound of his mother’s voice, loud and very angry-sounding, rapidly approaching.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t sigh because he loves his mother, he does, but she was such a bitter, angry woman who had taught Jiang Cheng to fear showing his soft-side to those who mattered most to him. The Madam Yu, Jiang Cheng remembers was one consumed by resentment toward her husband for bringing home an orphan that was the son of two people her husband loved. After raising his nephew, Jiang Cheng can’t accept his mother’s behaviour as anything but motivated by spite and hate. Perhaps pain.

Whatever this afterlife is for him, it’s giving Jiang Cheng the chance to right wrongs to his family and his brother then, by the heavens, he’s going to take it!

“What do you think you’re doing, Jiang Fengmian: leaving me with that child! He’s useless!”

Jiang Cheng has no clue what his mother is angry about precisely but he knows exactly who she’s talking about. Wei Wuxian. And where his shixiong is, his A-jie isn’t far behind.

It’s unbecoming of him to break into a run, leaving his father and shidi’s where they landed, but Jiang Cheng’s priorities are his siblings. Seeing his mother would be nice in that distant way seeing someone he once valued the opinion of, but he’s lived so long now without her that Madam Yu is less a priority than his siblings.

That’s probably an uncharitable thing to think about his mother but, well, Jiang Cheng won’t lie about the fact that A-jie definitely did more mothering of him and Wei Wuxian than Madam Yu ever did.

Resenting your children because you resent your husband is definitely not a sound basis upon which to build a family, let alone a Sect. Jiang Cheng can admit that, even if it’s only to himself.

The sight of his mother heading straight toward the landing point is a nice sight nonetheless. The last he saw of his mother, she had been fighting Wen Zhuliu with the fierceness she had shown all Jiang Cheng’s life. Seeing her in her prime is something he wishes he’d treasured when he’d had the chance. He has the chance again.

“Mother!” He exclaims, smiling in a way he hasn’t ever smiled at her before. He loves her still; she’s his mother.

His smile is ripped away when Madam Yu let’s out a cry of what sounds like horror and Zidian arcs out in a crackling purple chord that smashes into Jiang Cheng and sends him crashing into boxes of lotus seeds.

Shaking the dizziness from his head, Jiang Cheng realises that if his father thought him dead then it would stand to reason that his mother would have too. His mother of the Meishan Yu. He’s lucky he still has his head_ attached to his body_.

“Ziyuan! Stop!” His father shouts and Jiang Cheng looks up to see his mother with her blade drawn moving toward him with deadly intent.

Right. The whole ‘dead thing’.

“He’s alive! A-Cheng is alive!”

Madam Yu’s approach falters at those words but there are tears in her eyes and a determined, grief-stricken expression on her face that tells Jiang Cheng that his mother is not going to stop.

She must think he’s a conscious corpse like Wen Ning!

Talking to his mother when she’s like this is about as useful as talking to Wei Wuxian into not abandoning him for the Wen remnants had been. So Jiang Cheng doesn’t bother.

He vaults up from where he’s still sort of kneeling among broken boxes of lotus seeds, drawing Sandu and parrying Zidian as it tries to throw him off his feet again.

Jiang Cheng focuses on his mother to the exclusion of all else, though he doesn’t lose the awareness battle dried into him of his surroundings. He needs to fend his mother off and falling into the lake would not help with that.

Fighting his mother is a little bit like the one time Jiang Cheng spared with Nie Mingjue but without the pressure of not making an utter fool of himself. No, the pressure here is not having his head separated from his body by his mother.

Jilie, his mother’s sword, is as fierce as its master, but Jiang Cheng has more years of battle under his belt than his mother and father both. Sandu was more than a match for Jilie but Zidian was still a problem.

Parrying her attacks, Jiang Cheng focused on defending himself rather than attacking his mother; distantly registering the sound of his father calling for his mother to stop, for Jiang Cheng to stop.

Jiang Cheng will stop when his mother stops.

The problem with fighting his mother is that Jiang Cheng has grown used to fighting with Zidian, not against it, and it makes it difficult to handle both Jilie and Zidian at the same time. Eventually his luck at dodging Zidian will run out, he knows that.

When it does, he’s not surprised. Jilie and Sandu are locked and Jiang Cheng can’t disengage fast enough to avoid Zidian arcing around to slice into his neck. The only thing he can do is let it injure his arm instead.

The spark of pain from Zidian wrapping around his forearm is enough to have Jiang Cheng curse and snap at the spiritual weapon with his own spiritual energy.

He doesn’t expect Zidian to unfurl from his arm and instead settle around his wrist, violet sparking disappearing as the weapon goes inert.

That, more than anything, has both his mother and him stop dead.

Jiang Cheng stares at Zidian wrapped around his wrist. “What the fuck?”

In hindsight, saying anything was probably a bad idea but swearing was the worst idea ever.

Madam Yu and Jiang Fengmian both state at him with near identical looks of disapproval at his profanity which is just hilarious, really. Jiang Cheng’s entire political history is cursing, shouting, threats of violence, and profanity.

Still, he is somewhere around twelve and twelve-year-olds do not battle their mothers to a stand still and curse. But, this is Jiang Cheng’s afterlife so he can do what he wants, parental disapproval be damned.

Whether it’s his swearing, his father’s words finally penetrating his mother’s battle focus, or the fact that Zidian has in fact decided Jiang Cheng is fine, Yu Ziyuan pulls away from Jiang Cheng and studies him with a more open expression than he’s ever seen on his mother.

“Jiang Cheng?” Hearing his mother say his name so tentatively, sounding so uncertain, is just another surprise on top of more surprises.

He nods warily, unsure if his mother will start shouting at him for swearing, fighting her, or whatever other reason madam Yu can no doubt think of. Jiang Cheng certainly doesn’t expect his mother to drop her sword and drag him into a hug.

He can literally count on one hand how many times he’s been hugged by his mother. This makes hug number three; and he’s including the hugs from his previous life too.

Madam Yu doesn’t cry like Jiang Fengmian did but there’s a slight shaking to her shoulders that tells Jiang Cheng that she probably would if she ever allowed herself to be that emotionally vulnerable. His father approaches carefully, as mindful of his wife’s temper as ever, and gently joins the embrace; an arm around his wife and Jiang Cheng each.

This, this Jiang Cheng has never experienced. Both of his parents embracing him at the same time. The dashed wishes of the child that Jiang Cheng was long ago rise up and have him clinging to his parents with a desperation he doesn’t expect of himself. He’d reconciled his parents memory with his own failings long ago; he doesn’t need this from them but… It’s nice.

Jiang Cheng deserves nice things after all the crap he’s lived through.

The reunion with A-Jie and Wei Wuxian is either going to be wonderful or possibly worse than his mother realising he’s not dead. Jiang Cheng honestly doesn’t know which it’s going to he but he strongly suspects it’s going to involve a lot of shouting and crying at the least.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t pride himself on being right about things like Wei Wuxian always had, but he’s a little proud of himself for guessing rightly about the shouting and tears. He’s less proud when the source of shouting is his sister and tears is his brother.

Mostly because he doesn’t know how to handle either of those things separately, let alone at the same time.

Jiang Cheng feels perfectly justified in mumbling the same excuse he gave his father to A-Jie as she gives him the same look Madam Yu always gave him; expectant. At least, Jiang Yanli expects an explanation whereas his mother expected perfection.

Wei Wuxian is, in comparison to A-Jie near catatonic, clinging to Jiang Cheng the way he used to whenever someone mentioned dogs or he saw one. It’s terror and fear and a desperate, desperate need for comfort. Jiang Cheng, after literal decades spent trying to be less emotionally constipated, complies readily and pulls his shixiong into a hug that buries Wei Wuxian’s head against his chest.

Jiang Cheng used to do that with A-Ling all the time when his nephew was young and needed comfort after a nightmare. The experience comes in handy with his brother.

“I’m sorry, A-Jie, I didn’t plan on dying in the first place, let alone being thrown back by the heavens to protect the Sect,” Jiang Cheng says and there’s more sarcasm to his words than there should be considering the way his sister actually glares at him. “I’m sorry for hurting you all.”

A-Jie’s glare softens at those words. Jiang Cheng means them for a lot more than just being dead in his afterlife here. He means them for failing his sister and her husband, for not being a better uncle, for pushing Wei Wuxian away, for being so ignorant that he didn’t even realise his core was actually his brothers…

Jiang Cheng is sorry for a lot of things.

“You are forgiven A-Cheng,” A-Jie tells him, smiling at last as she joins Wei Wuxian in hugging Jiang Cheng. “Do not do it again.”

“I definitely don’t plan to, no,” Jiang Cheng promises, smiling despite himself because he has his siblings again. They’re alive and safe and though they’ve been grieving him, he knows they’ll be happy again soon enough.

And he’s going to keep them that way. Even if he has to go and kill Wen Ruohan himself at the tender age of twelve. Possibly Jin Guangyao- wait, it’d be Meng Yao still. Su She too, maybe.

Jiang Cheng sighs into his siblings embrace. He’s going to have to write a list.

The years of being a Sect Leader with no family and a newly rebuilt Sect will come in handy now that Jiang Cheng is going to have to single-handedly organise protection of Lotus Pier and possibly kill several cultivators without getting caught. He can do it, he’s of Yunmeng Jiang, but it’s going to be annoying with Sect Heir duties.

Judging by the hair pierce and robes Wei Wuxian wears, Jiang Cheng figures his father made him the Sect Heir after Jiang Cheng’s… Demise. Of course, Wei Wuxian would be a wonderful Sect Heir and Leader for Yunmeng Jiang, Jiang Cheng has come to accept this about his shixiong and not resent him for it. But Jiang Cheng gets the feeling that Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to be Sect Heir instead of Jiang Cheng.

Considering that Wei Wuxian had become Sect Heir thanks to the Wen attack, Jiang Cheng trusts that his brother has been carrying out Sect Heir duties just fine. The admission by Wei Wuxian that he has in fact been completely useless in the week since Jiang Cheng’s death is… Surprising.

But it’s not, not really, when Jiang Cheng thinks about it. Wei Wuxian loves him—he hasn’t shied away from this fact for three decades, he’s not about to start shying away from it now—and Jiang Cheng himself had been pretty useless those first few days after the Wen attack and then Wei Wuxian’s disappearance. He understands.

“You’re meant to be the next Sect Leader, anyway,” Wei Wuxian mumbles into Jiang Cheng’s robes.

“Maybe, but you’ll be my Sect Heir when I do,” Jiang Cheng replies, calmly staring at Wei Wuxian’s shocked expression. “I’m serious. A-Jie will marry and leave Lotus Pier, but you’re Head Disciple and will become Sect Heir when I take over from father.”

Wei Wuxian stares at him. He looks a bit like a koi fish.

Jiang Cheng kindly does not tell him that.

“But- Madam Yu-“ Wei Wuxian splitters and Jiang Cheng cuts him off.

“Mother is not Sect Leader or Sect Heir,” Jiang Cheng says firmly. “It is not her decision who I have as my heir. I love her but you are my brother and I will not allow anyone to treat you like you are unworthy of being treated as my brother. Not even mother.”

It seems that Jiang Cheng can reduce Wei Wuxian to speechless by a) dying and reviving, and b) declaring him his brother and being willing to fight Madam Yu about it.

Considering Jiang Cheng has already fought his mother today, he’s relatively confident he could beat her if it came to that; even if he’s twelve. He’d rather it didn’t but Jiang Cheng has learnt to plan for contingencies as a Sect Leader.

You never knew if you were going to reveal a major plot to undermine the Great Sects and frame your brother for crimes he didn’t commit, after all.

Speaking of contingencies, Jiang Cheng wonders if it would be wise to reach out to Gusu Lan earlier than the Disciple Exchange in three years. The Lan would be able to offer assurances to the other Sects that Jiang Cheng really isn’t dead, and it would afford him the chance to introduce Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian sooner. Whilst he’d much rather gouge his eyes out than witness his brother being so shameless with the Second Jade of Lan, Jiang Cheng remembers how happy his shixiong had been with Hanguang-Jun and Jiang Cheng will do whatever he has to, to make sure his siblings are happy.

Even if he has to endure shameless flirting and truly obnoxious displays of affection.  

He’ll have to figure something out regarding the peacock for A-Jie too. Jiang Cheng sighs. The things he does for those he loves. 

#The Untamed #Jiang Cheng #Wei Wuxian #Jiang Yanli #Jiang Fengmian #Yu Ziyuan #Kat writes

[the-other-art-blog]

Little Men thoughts part 8: The Brookes

This is such a sad post.

John Brooke

John dies and it’s the most heartbreaking thing that happens to the family after Beth’s passing. I just would have like to see more of him in this book. Although, Louisa had a hard time writing about the people who were gone so I understand why she couldn’t include him more.

Fritz does say he lost his best friend.

Mr. Bhaer went hastily away quite bowed with grief, for in John Brooke he had lost both friend and brother, and there was no one left to take his place.

I would have also liked some words from Laurie. He wasn’t the best student and yet John had to bear it cause he needed the money. But he also played a part in making a man out of Laurie. And both Fritz and Laurie learned a lot from John’s parenting. I would have liked seeing the men interacting more.

I found in an article about Alf Whitman this extract from a letter that John Pratt (real life John Brooke) wrote about his marriage:

Our life together has been so beneficial, so satisfying, so peaceful so pure & happy that it seems to me almost as if we were designed by Providence for one another, & the hopes and wishes I used to recount to you have far more than been realized, so much so that there is nothing left for me to ask for, our life is one long day of sunshine.

The boys called him “the best” and he certainly was. Meg won the lottery by marrying him. He was such a hard working man and he really gave Meg everything she needed, even leaving her free of debts. I suppose he always knew he would die soon.

Meg

That letter, previously quoted, was supposed to be sent by Anna (real life Meg), but since she did it late, she added,

John and I plod along happily in our little home, daily finding how very little is necessary when one has plenty of love in the cupboard. My dear old man grows gooder & handsomer & happier every day and I really can’t see that we have much left to desire in this world.

When you have someone like that, losing them must be unbearable.

Meg is such a strong woman. Honestly, I hate every time people say she (and Amy) contended herself with a domestic life. In reality she got everything she wanted. Not every woman wants to participate in a revolution and that’s ok! Some dream of a cozy home to share with a partner and kids. It doesn’t make their lives any less relevant.

Most people pay attention to either Amy&Laurie or Jo&Fritz. I know I did, but after reading those letter I won’t make the same mistake. Meg and John’s story is equally important and epic!

I suppose that just as John was a model for Fritz and Laurie, Meg was a model for her younger sisters. They also had Marmee but a sister is a different kind of connection.

Meg became a widow at 30 years old (maybe 31 or 32) with three kids, one of which will barely have memories of him. And I’m sure she’s dying inside and at times she wants to actually die.

When John died, Anna wrote to Alf,

All looks dark to me, and at times I feel that I cannot live.

But the way she composed herself during the funeral was remarkable.

"Dear Jo, the love that has blest me for ten happy years supports me still. It could not die, and John is more my own than ever,"

In my experience, funerals are the moment when you’re numb. The loss has just happened and there’s so much happening. There’s preparation to be made and you have be polite to the attendants (and then the mass and the rosaries in Catholic tradition), and everything just moves so fast. It’s the days that follow that are horrible. It’s when you actually feel there’s someone missing.

It’s in moments like this where religion really helps people and why it’s never going to go away. That belief that they’re going to be separated for a while, but they’ll meet again must have help Meg to accept his death and find comfort in her kids and family.

Daisy and Josie

I already talked about Daisy in Part 2, and I repeat I would have liked to see her grieving, but I understand why the focus in on Demi. There’s an episode in Modern Family where Alex’s boyfriend confesses that his biggest worry is to not be as good as Phil, cause he is such a wonderful man and dad. Oh boy, John really set the bar incredibly high for Nat and Josie’s future husband.

Josie is really only mentioned here, thought she must be a year younger that Bess, so like 3 years old. So, to correct my post from a few weeks ago. The March women were pregnant in  consecutive years!!! Can you imagine that?! First Amy, then Meg and lastly Jo. Jesus, those poor men haha.

Demi

In Little Women Chapter 45 it is stated that the twins are advanced. Demi became a bookworm, sure her aunt Jo is super proud. Plus, he definitely uses Sherlock’s technique of a ‘mind palace’! And he bonded with his grandfather because of this.

All the times where he mispronounces something is so cute and reminded me so much of Amy in LW.

“a sackerryfice”

“an arrygory”

It’s really fun. Honestly, not just him, but every time a kid mispronounces something :3

There this idea of “the man of the house”. So John’s death really forces him to grow up, especially when he has a mother and two sisters to take care of. There’s no brother who might help him. He has cousins and uncles but it’s not the same. It breaks my heart when Jo finds him crying at night.

Part 1: Jo and Fritz,

Part 2: the girls at Plumfield

Part 3: Nat Blake

Part 4: Laurie

Part 5: Jo and Laurie

Part 6: Bess Laurence

Part 7: Amy Laurence

#little women #little men #louisa may alcott #meg broke #john brooke #meg x john #demi and daisy #josie brooke #anna alcott pratt #john pratt

[ziracona]

Hi! I just realised I havn't popped in in awhile. Do you have any headcanons u feel like sharing about the newer survivors?? (I love them all, they're so cool but I think imma have to say cheryl is my bby gurl. she's tired. let her rest.) also. i am. going insane. from a toothache :) - Sleepy

Hey! Hope your tooth pain clears up! I’m so sorry—that’s one of the worst. : /

Hmmm, I do, but I’m trying to think of ones I haven’t said in asks before. 😬 Unfortunately my memory of fictional characters is great, and my memory of what I said in asks is shitty. :’-]

I don’t know the newer survivors—except Nancy and Steve—as well as I do the older ones, because I’ve never written them, and I haven’t played Silent Hill. I like Zarina, Yui, and Cheryl a lot though. Poor fkn Cheryl can join Quentin in the “Please God, just one good day?” Existence. Rip to them both. 😭

Poor kid gets out of hell once, and ya throw her back in. :’-]

Let’s see—headcanon I am fairly sure I haven’t already shared. I think Yui and Min would get along really well, and Jane and Zarina would too.

Yui hates the serial killers especially, from her own personal experience, and goes to bat hard against them every time.

Ash flirts with everyone to a point it’s even more than Ace does, and for a while it becomes a competition between them to see who can flirt more and better than the other (not in a shitty way—everybody knows they have the competition going on and it’s more a ‘I can act better than you’ than a ‘I can win more hearts’ one.) Ace is declared the winner in class, Ash the winner in sheer quantity he’s able to churn out, and they agree to call it a semi-draw. It’s actually a really fun week for everyone, because they’re all constantly being complemented and flirted with in a way they know is performative and seeks 0 real actions from them in return, so essentially they are just showererd with ‘drunk girl in a bar bathroom’ levels of praise for seven days.

Felix and Nancy are the only two with significant others waiting back home, and they bond over talking about their wife/boyfriend and sharing stories and having someone around who understands that specific brand of pain and can encourage them that they’ll make it back home.

Tapp is a dad, so he gives Felix a lot of advice on stuff since he was an expecting father. Not so much “do this” advice, since his relationship with his family didn’t go so well, and he feels like he’s in absolutely no position to teach—more like “It’s okay. Women have been giving birth for thousands of years. She’s gonna make it just fine even if you’re not home yet, and you’ll get back to them. And I’m gonna teach you some of the tricks so you’ll be ready when you do. You can even surprise her by already knowing how to change a diaper and warm a formula bottle. I’ll show you how to do it,” and talking him through some of the stuff he would have been able to learn from infant care books. It’s sweet, but Tapp almost dies when Jane says its “Very heartwarming” and teases him, so they cut him some slack. Felix is really appreciative. Laurie has taken care of a ton of kids, and gives him some advice too, and so does Nancy, who had two younger siblings.

Steve is a disaster who suffers from “I like you and you are a girl, so *pigeon meme* Is this falling in love?” syndrome. Gets shot down hard by Laurie, who is ridiculously pissed at him for bringing it up during a trial when their lives are on the line, but after he gets over being super awkward around her, and she reaches out to be like, ‘Look, dumbass, why did you even like me?’ And he’s like ‘...because you’re, uh, really cool? A-and pretty? And...’ and eventually she’s like ‘Buddy, you don’t even really know me. You’re just lonely. You’re not in love with me, you just want to be, because you want to be in love with somebody, and that’s not gonna cut it, for me, or anyone. Be in love with a person—not with the concept of being in love. And for that to happen, you have to know them first.” And since Steve is good af self-improvement, he realizes she’s got a real point, and tries to find his worth outside of needing a girlfriend, and becomes both a lot happier, and one of Laurie’s closer friends. (Side note—this extends probably only to my initial Steve ideas. I had the idea batted around that in that universe, Stranger Things /is/ an existing show, but it’s based on a mix of urban legend and history from the 80s, and Nancy and Steve are the version from the actual 80s, and I think in that pitch Steve is dating Barb, who is still alive, and already worked through this specific issue, because many things happened differently for wild comedic ‘But in the show’ effect, becuase both them repeatedly going “WELL REALITY WAS A LITTLE DIFFERENT” when like, monster hunting shit from the show won’t work on the Demogorgan, and *Spit take* “THEY HAD ME HIT ON ROBIN?” “Ewwww” “YEAH ewww! She’s basically my lesbian little sister! We’ve been best friends since grade school! What the fuck :’-]” make for amazing joke potential. )

Cheryl starts having nightmares where she sees things from the Entity’s eyes she was never meant to see, and finding out dangerous amounts of information this way. The Entity decides at some point this is too big a threat, but because it’s proud, it doesn’t want to just kill her, as that would be admitting a human is a threat, so it starts having killers gun for her mercilessly to try to get her to give up, and the poor girl is in agony.

Zarina documents stuff form the realm constantly, and has a careful scrapbook collection of all notes and paraphernalia from past survivors. She also keeps conspiracy pages tacked together trying to figure out who they were becuase they deserve at least the justice of people somehow knowing how they died and what they went through. Laurie is a big help with this, and so is Claudette, who has been keeping stuff for a long time.

Yui is very no-nonsense, and protective. She gives off strong big sister vibes. She especially also loves board games/puzzles/other games like Shogi or Go and such, and Dwight and Adam create game pieces for her to play Go with when she mentions how much she used to like that kind of thing, and Yui is incredibly touched, and makes several other ones for people to play with too, and it becomes a very enjoyed pastime between trials. It’s engaging and competitive, but much more relaxed and low energy than sports or training or going for a run, so it’s a great alternative. Meg gets super into making puzzles, and all the artists do too, and take turns painting pictures on boards, cutting them into puzzle pieces with extreme painstakingly slow care, and then doing puzzles together. Jake is invaluable in the actual cutting pieces out area, but actually enjoys to do it.

Felix knows a lot more than anyone else about the Entity when he’s taken, so he spends a bunch of time with the research team trying to recall whatever he can from his childhood and sharing any information he has, then just stays on it because he wants to. He’s desperate to meet Benedict Baker someday himself, becuase that man seems to get around, and he really wants to know what happend to his father.

Everyone becomes protective as fuck of Cheryl when the Entity starts targeting her, and someone—I think Kate and or Meg—probably both together—as a one-off joke call themselves her knights at some point, becuase they’re running such dedicated protection detail, but it becomes a whole thing, and several more start to do it. They’ll like ‘fist clasped arm across chest at attention, quick bow’ when they see her, and it’s goofy as fuck, but it helps a lot making Cheryl’s reality more bearable. Plus, it’s really sweet. Nea gets in on this and comes back one day with a little daisy chain she made cause she was bored, sees Cheryl, it clicks, runs over and offers it as a ‘favor’. Zarina sees and comes back later that day from a trial and kneels and presents Cheryl with a rescued toolbox with a brand new part. This becomes increasingly common and extravagant, and Cheryl /cannot/ deal, but it’s like, genius, becuase it takes exactly this level of surreal goofy friend bullshit to distract from the hell she is living. She ends up just regularly having someone come back from a trial or trip to the woods, salute with an arm across their chest, bow, and present her with anything from a pinecone or pretty rock, to flowers or a medkit, to a salt statue or key, to a painting or hand made bracelet, to a makeshift weapon or a pillow. Everyone always tries to outdo each other, so the gifts tend to be extravagant. Zarina considers herself Cheryl’s righthand woman/personal knight by chocie, because she wanted a cause to fight for and has found one she truly loves, and she makes Cheryl her favorite gift so far, coming up to her at the end of a long day, after a very bad trial where Cheryl was mercilessly and slowly killed by the Pig, kneeling, and offering a thick shard of stained glass from the chapel, made sturdy and held in place with a few chunks of soldered and wrapped iron along the blade and down the grip, forming a razor sharp and reinforced stained glass knife.

#ask #Sleepy #headcanons #dead by daylight #dbd

[thisiskatsblog]

Hey, sorry if this is too personal or if you’ve already answered it. Would you mind telling how you realized you were bisexual? I’m kinda confused and struggling a bit 😫

Hi there! Warm hugs to you! Confusion happens. Struggling with that is really normal and okay. Whatever it is that’s confusing you, there’s probably a lot to unpack, but it’s good you’re not running away from it. For me, there were cues all along, but clarity came when for the first time, and this was in my mid- twenties, I allowed myself to sit with all of my feelings, without pushing any of them away. Because pushing them away, I only then realized, I had been doing for a very long time. 

It was almost insignificant. My partner commented positively on the female violinist at a Sparklehorse concert. I was really pissed and scolded him about it. He said I shouldn’t feel so offended as “She’s your type”. For a moment I felt like I was about to explode. He meant to say she looked like me, but for a second I understood something different. And I had a flash of realization. I had been about to act offended, which would have been blatantly homophobic, but underneath, I had also felt a tinge of relief, YES she WAS my type, I liked this woman, I’d do her. And it was this mix of “oh god I almost acted like a homophobic prick” and “oh god FINALLY someone GETS me” that made me realize - OH. I have these feelings, and they have been making me miserable, because I feel like I should be pushing them away. But what if I didn’t act like a prick to myself, what if I stopped being scared of them, stopped pushing them away? I watched the rest of that concert mesmerized by the wonder of my feelings for Sparklehorse’s cute violinist, and realized, yes, I feel sexual desire for women, and that’s never going to go away. My sexual desire for men had always been clear and without question to me, I knew that wasn’t going to go away either. So that was the start of a long, and still ongoing, journey of gradually looking my feelings in the eye, and starting to understand I was always going to feel attracted to more than one gender, and trying to navigate that fact in a biphobic and bi erasing world. It is not always easy and simple. I don’t feel I’m fully there; but looking it in the eye really made me a better, nicer, happier person.  

I have probably shared the full story in the past and I may have tagged it “bisexuality” or “me”, but I feel ya so I’m happy to tell the story again. Under the cut. And: always here to talk. 

Clearly it’s something that was always there, and the realization came in many many stages. When I first heard of the concept gay people (it was the eighties, in the context of AIDS) I asked my mom “but what if I turn out to be gay” and her absolute certainty that I wouldn’t, really did not sit right with me. I was 8 and could not imagine getting naked with anyone, but I could imagine marrying a girl. I think I already realized I liked some girls a bit more than others in my very early teens, but it took the form of strong admiration.  I grew up in a strongly religious and homophobic environment, incredibly powerful incentives all around to ignore those feelings, stay far away from them, not explore them, just, pretend they were not there and label them “I just REALLY want to be her friend”. Just blame that tingly feeling in your chest when you sat close and she talked in your ear on the strong smell of her perfume. And later, telling yourself this is a phase, a test. Yep, must be God testing me - praying (something i considered useless long before I lost all faith), but praying, probably the last time I did it, please God, help me, please let this go away. I cried an entire night long. And forgot about that episode for more than ten years. Pushed it as far as I could in my memory.

 Knowing for absolutely sure I liked guys, I was sure I could not be a lesbian (and didn’t want to be, the homophobia was deeply engrained) and I was sure this would eventually go away. And it did, I got a boyfriend, he was cool, and beautiful, and delicate, and he had long hair. Boyfriends came and went until I met a girl who instantly became my best friend on the day we met, and someone - probably thinking we looked cosy - handed us a flyer to an LGBT event at uni that same day (I should write a fic based on this I know). She said “let’s go, for fun”, and me, remembering the goddess from high school who had inspired my desperate prayers, though, yeah, I should look into this, and said, “yeah, for giggles”. We went and I... did NOT feel at home. I’m rather femmy, and most of the women there were pretty butch, and I just... did not feel attracted or like I belonged. I also didn’t like it when the groups split up and the guys went elsewhere. We watched a lame movie about a woman discovering herself and my friend had opinions. One of which was “I don’t want to go for the drinks after, you’re prettier than any of the girls here anyway, let’s go to mine and have some tea”. I am pretty flirt blind I have to tell you that at this point. Over all the years that we were best friends we emotionally functioned as a co-dependent couple, but I never took any of those things she said, like “you are more important to me than any boy could be” seriously. Like, at all. I was pretty dense. Plain stupid, really. But I agreed with her and said, yeah no, not interested, let’s have tea at your place. All the environmental homophobia had deeply hidden me from myself. So we stayed best friends who acted a bit like a couple. 

So i was completely oblivious, but it must have been around this time that I at some point woke up from a very sexy, pleasing dream, which I had not wanted to wake up from, and realized, hey, that was a girl, with delicious boobs, lush lips and beautiful curly hair I was just dreaming of. SHOCK. It was not a phase... By then I’d had sexual experiences, had grown comfortable with being a sexual being (coming from such a religious upbringing, that in itself took ages) and I could look it in the eye. Sexual desire for women. But I thought it was just that. Hmm, I apparently like thinking of sex with women. Not a hair on my head that considered a romantic relationship, building a life with a woman. It was before women could get married to eachother and have children. Ellen had come out maybe a year or two before, or three, or five, I don’t know - point is: I didn’t know any long term female couples. There were no examples.

That said, my friend and I were sometimes perceived as a couple (I will never forget the time someone congratulated us on planning to move in together, or the time someone called her my sweetheart instead of my friend (girlfriend and friend are the same word in Dutch, so I cannot imagine the times people used that word meaning something other than I took it for, or the times I said it and people took it for something else). But people really close to us thought we were an item. Except there were boyfriends, coming in and out of our lives through revolving doors. They generally didn’t bother me. I mean, mine, always delicate long haired boys, sometimes wearing makeup or girls’ clothes, DEFINITELY did not bother me. But they annoyed her. She never thought any of them was good enough for me. I didn’t think any of her boyfriends were quite good enough for her, but she was clearly also not serious about them, so they didn’t bother me. Until we made plans to move into an appartment together and she sent me househunting with her then boyfriend who was also looking for something, and he inadvertently said “i don’t need something big, I expect I’ll be spending most of my time at your apartment”. I cancelled the plans immediately and I didn’t even know why it hurt me so much. 

Worst. Breakup. Ever. She was extremely upset over it as well. People who knew us well could just not get what had happened. And it took me years to figure out how I had been separating my strong emotional attachment to her very neatly from any sexual attraction I felt to the female body. Years later, I figured out that my behaviour on a beach holiday with our respective temp boyfriends, had been pure jealousy and repression. One time she wanted to bathe topless and I got completely upset. My boyfriend was upset at me “not trusting him”, her boyfriend was upset at me “being a prude”, and she was upset at me refusing to look at her and “treating her like a slut” (I wish). But really I was scared shitless. I did not want to look at her boobs. Without being in any way conscious of it, I looked away to avoid having to recognize sexual feelings. That same holiday her boyfriend at some point stood stark naked on a table. I looked away from his private parts as well, a little less though, those feelings were also not desirable considering he was her boyfriend, but - you know - more familiar, and less scary. When I heard her bumping the headboard in the room next door, I wanted to have loud sex with my boyfriend too. 

And years later, I had sex with her boyfriend as well. After he’d long been dumped and replaced, after I’d cancelled the moving in plans. After she and I had tentatively started talking again. I begged him never to tell her anything about it ever. It felt like the worst betrayal, as I knew she had truly cared for him and I couldn’t bear for her to find out. I don’t think she ever did. I also never stopped feeling guilty about it. What she thought of me was the only thing I cared about. 

There was a short interlude with a hot redhead I’d developed sexual desire for, still not taking the possibility of a relationship with a woman seriously, and running into her in the underwear department with exactly the same set in her hands, and thinking, oh, to buy underwear for her, wrap it, gift it to her on her birthday, and that eliciting the picture of a longer term relationship with her, and thinking, yeah for her I might not mind people thinking i was gay, I’d be proud to introduce her to my friends - an easier thought to entertain when it’s entirely hypothetical and also realizing then: uhm. People thought I’d be a lesbian, like they now think I’m straight. Perhaps this is the reason why I do not know anyone who is bisexual. I just think of them all as straight, or gay. The invisibility of people who are bisexual was a really difficult one for me. It’s SO difficult to picture coming out as bisexual when no one you know is living any kind of example. Anyway. This was a fantasy, but a useful one in making progress towards understanding myself. 

Enter the man I ended up having a child with. He had been in the picture for a while. The “girlfriend” from before (that’s what I call her now) had always warned me off him, didn’t think we’d be a good match. But I really liked him, that wasn’t going away. So when it turned out he liked me too, we got together and it worked. It was our last year of uni, and after, she moved away for an internship, and I moved in with him. She visited once, which led to his confession that he hated her guts, and her confession that she hated his, followed by a list of denigrating comments about our living circumstances. She was clearly not supportive of the relationship that was everything to me so the decision was easy to cut her out. This was even worse than the first “breakup”, complete with nightmarish dreams and withdrawal symptoms. I kept dreaming about her an din those dreams we’d make up and apologize for all the horrible things we had said and done to eachother. I also kept having sexual dreams of Madonna, and a hot friend of ours. Which I’d discuss with my boyfriend. He could relate. It must have been around this time that I started truly questioning the nature of my lost relationship with the girl.

The relationship with my boyfriend was good but I did display some serious unpleasantness around... certain issues. I’d always had that with my boyfriends. I had issues with pictures of beautiful girls on their walls. Particularly if they had nice boobs. They had all seen that as inappropriate jealousy or prudishness. Jealousy it was, but not the kind they thought. To me, the realization FINALLY came as I was at a concert with my boyfriend, and he was talking appreciatively about a female violinist. I acted angry and upset. He called me a prude. I denied it. He called me jealous. I denied it. He thought I was acting like a pain in the ass anyway and said I should feel honoured, cause “She’s your type”, he said. 

And my brain went “Ah”. Indeed, she is my type. I’d do her. BUT I CANNOT SAY THAT AND I HATE YOU FOR BEING ABLE TO SAY THAT. I was jealous, cause he was allowed to express desire for women, and I felt that I was not. So that was it, my aha moment during a Sparklehorse concert. He had meant ‘she looks a bit like you’, I got him completely wrong, but I am so thankful I did. 

That’s unfortunately not the end of the story. But it was the turning point. I had finally understood. It was the starting point of me revisiting all the past issues, stringing all the beads I just painted for you together, making sense of my own story. I made a resolution then and there, that - whatever else - I was probably never ever going to come out, because bisexuality did not exist in my world,  but I would allow myself to feel sexual desire for women. I was going to stop hating myself for it, and I was going to stop hating others for being allowed to feel something I didn’t allow myself to feel. I instantly became a much more pleasant person to everyone I know. And enjoyed my raunchy dreams about Sparklehorse’s violinist, Madonna, and a certain redhead. 

On online fan forums I started migrating to LGBTQ content, it was my way of staying in touch with my community, as there was none in my real life. There was no local  bi group that I knew of, and though I did attend some lesbian parties with a lesbian friend, besides her, most lesbians I met were not very welcoming. The fact that I had a boyfriend of course did not help. I should not be blaming them. 

I found my people online. Started introducing myself to people I met online as bi. Started figuring out how I had been suppressing my sexual desire for women. Then when I couldn’t deny that anymore, had been separating my emotional attachment to women from sexual desire. Realized that societal heteronormativity had made it almost impossible for me to conceive of women as potential long term romantic partners. Casual sex with women I could definitely conceive of, and co-dependent strongly emotional more than friendships eclipsing all the men entering and leaving through revolving doors. But a healthy, stable, romantic, emotional and sexual partnership with a woman? That seemed impossible to me. 

I worked hard to change that, and opening my mind to it, and to the idea that sometimes, you love more than one person at the same time; This has really helped me accept my feelings, myself, who I am. And as I said, it made my life a lot better. It’s gradually allowed me to develop the confidence to come out to people I trust, friends, colleagues, and to try and find, and even build bi+ communities. It’s been great to meet and talk to other people who don’t fit into narrow categories, and allow themselves not to. 

Wishing you the very best on your journey; thank you for sharing with me; and always here to talk anon

#bisexuality #me #the story goes on quite a bit longer #but it's important for me to tell it #i am still trying to make sense of it #warm warm hugs anon #whatever comes to lie on the surface when you let it sit #there is a place of acceptance for you #and you are the first person who can give yourself that #Anonymous #ask

[artificialqueens]

hotel california. (gigi/jackie) — chapter three, roza

summary: jackie explores more of los angeles with gigi as the two set off for hollywood blvd. they run into some familiar faces and jackie begins to feel some comfort in california.

author's note: thank you to all of jankie candle for being the best support and of course to meg for always being a wonderful beta as well as alex who is always an incredible beta and my favourite person on earth.

AO3 Link / My Tumblr: @leljaaa / (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

— *.✧

"I am ready," Jackie shouted upon hearing the loud knock at her door.

She already knew that Gigi was waiting for her so they could go and stroll the tourist areas that the blonde felt were completely a necessity when visiting California.

She hummed as she turned off the TV channel that had been blasting throughout the apartment, then she grabbed her small purse and headed out the door, knowing that Gigi was right outside.

The second full day had officially passed in California and Jackie was slowly beginning to understand routine, and was comforted seeing all the food that was still left over from their cooking lessons from the previous night.

She missed her mother, she missed her father and the rest of her family, but getting to spend hours on end with Gigi certainly was not a bad thing.

"Let's go," Gigi grinned, her helmet already in her left hand as they raced to her bike and they began to get into the swing of how it would end up working out.

Gigi would sit, Jackie would follow, she'd wrap her arms around the shorter woman's back and the blonde would make sure the Persian gave a thumbs up before Gigi would finally ignite the engine and ride off on the California streets.

"All these palm trees," she yelled with a laugh as her boots relaxed against the exterior of the bike. Gigi paid close attention only to the road, though seeing Jackie out of the corner of her eye giggle or gasp at every new tree was one of the most cute and sweet things she'd ever witness.

Gigi had decided yesterday that there was absolutely no place more crowded, more California and more popular than Hollywood Blvd.

There would certainly be enough payphones to ease Jackie's clouded mind, as well as an abundance of tourist activities and famous sites for the Persian to stroll around and see.

I'm going to make sure she gets the most out of America that she can.

— *.✧

Fifteen solid minutes of riding down the crowded streets found the two finally at the starting point of Hollywood Blvd.

"We're here," Gigi called out to the Persian as she snapped a few pictures with her Kodak Instamatic camera, trying to save some memories for Jackie considering she hadn't brought much luggage with her.

The Persian dusted down her knee length yellow dress, trying to keep it in pristine condition before she gazed at the mass scope of the street.

"This is… very big," Jackie managed to reply as she adjusted her white leather boots, trying to keep up with the blonde who knew the smartest thing to do was to just keep walking along the iconic four and a half mile long street.

"It's quintessential California!"

The Persian tried to hold on to Gigi's jacket sleeve as they navigated their way past the various and many people that overcrowded the street, especially on their side of the boulevard where Jackie began to notice all the engraved, bright pink stars below them.

"Is this a common thing in America?" Jackie asked completely clueless as Gigi flashed a bright smile. She chuckled, amused as the two moved to the side of the street without as many people so they could stroll comfortably.

"Trust me, this is purely just a Los Angeles tourist thing," she whispered to the Persian who nodded, trying to still take in all of the authentic American experience whenever possible.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a payphone booth and gasped. She instinctively pulled down on Gigi's jacket as the shorter woman was almost sent crashing to the pavement before catching her balance.

"You alright?" She asked as Jackie pointed at the phone, immediately reaching for her wallet as she counted in her head the timezone conversion, realizing it was just about to pass nine in the evening for her family in Tehran.

"Oh shit the phone!"

Gigi took off, grabbing Jackie's hand as they laughed, pushing through the slow walkers and various people who plagued the streets of Los Angeles in the early morning.

They managed to make it before anyone could steal the payphone, and Jackie inserted twenty cents into the machine as Gigi stood idly as she looked around to make sure no one would try to mess around with the Persian.

Jackie gripped the wires, breathing heavily as she prayed that somehow her siblings would at least answer the phone.

There's at least ringing.

"Hello?" The thick accent cut through the phone, and the Persian assumed that her family must've known it was an odd time for a phone call from god knows where.

The blonde felt a smile paint itself across her lips the moment she heard Jackie's beaming excitement, starting to speak in Farsi, and Gigi assumed that she managed to get through to her family.

The phone would only run for a minute and Jackie knew this as she would often pick up the tone in her voice and roll her eyes, trying to just break through that she was safe and in California and would call when she could.

Jackie hung up and sighed as she composed herself and smiled at Gigi, admitting that it had gone well and they knew she was at least safe and alive.

"They're okay?"

"For now yes," Jackie responded with a pinch of uncertainty, not wanting to mention the fact that her mother mentioned there were talks of the Prime Minister resigning and running for the hills tomorrow.

"That's all that matters, I'm happy you and your family are okay."

Her head hung low as Gigi wrapped an arm around her back, she knew there wasn't much she could do except support the Persian. Jackie glanced around before pressing a kiss to her shoulder, the two of them unable to say or even do anything except grin at each other from time to time.

"Gigi!" The blonde heard a voice scream from the other side of the road, she turned trying to find where the voice was coming from before seeing a hand being raised by a distinct woman with glowing platinum blonde hair.

Gigi gasped. "Jan," she shrieked as she held on to Jackie's hand as she quickly attempted to explain to the Persian that she was one of her best friends since middle school.

Jan laughed seeing the blonde, completely going feral and pushing aside people to run into the blonde's arms. Jackie stood awkwardly smiling and waving at the other woman who had been standing right next to Jan.

She was completely radiant.

Impeccable makeup, her hair long and resembling that of Donna Summer; Jackie didn't know much of American music but how could you not love such a global disco icon.

She wore denim bell bottoms fashioned with a white, flowing blouse. The outfit was pulled together by the white heels she had on as the two finally laughed and shook hands, introducing themselves to each other as the bubbly blonde next to her was still chatting up a storm with Gigi.

"Jaida," she introduced herself as Gigi furiously turned her head before she gasped and put two and two together as she blinked at Jan, who just laughed as she watched Gigi try and put the puzzle together.

"You two are friends? " Her face and expression reading as something extremely different to what she was attempting to ask.

Jaida eyed the woman beside her up and down before Jan snickered and rubbed her shoulders, biting down on her lip as she nodded to Gigi who gasped and gave a big smile, immediately hugging Jaida who was happy to introduce herself again.

Gigi had never been happier to see Jan out in the open and actually with a woman. Jaida seemed extremely caring and she was certainly beautiful to look at. She knew that her close friend was in good hands.

"Who is this," Jan asked with a large grin, her finger pointing at the Persian as Gigi shook her head furiously at the connotation. Jackie was confused as the blonde lowly whispered that Jan was asking if they were a couple.

"Oh! No, no, just friends! I'm Jackie."

"She's just a friend, she's staying at my dad's complex. She's from Iran."

Jaida nodded, thanking Jackie for being so strong about the entire situation back in Iran. The Persian laughed, honoured but admitting that being a refugee didn't feel like she was being strong about anything.

"I feel very weird but it's only been two days so I cannot say much," she explained as Jan gasped, immediately admitting she didn't think she had only been here for such a short amount of time.

"Your English is so great, girl I would've never even guessed it!"

Gigi hummed as she rubbed her shoulder against her own, proud that Jackie was getting the recognition she deserved for her skills in English.

"I was a Linguistics student at our University in Iran before I left, so I'm glad that it helped me with coming to California, it's nice here."

They all scoffed, the three of them unanimously agreeing that California was expensive and dreadful and only fun for holidays or a weekend.

"It's been fun for the last two days," she admitted shyly before smiling at Gigi, who could only stay quiet as Jackie admitted that the blonde had been her help through this entire situation.

"Gigi is always helpful, I'm glad you're here with us," Jan's chipper tone made the pair smile as Jaida admitted that they were just strolling about trying to get out in the sun.

"Hey you know," Jan gently hit her partner's shoulder as Jaida laughed, not realizing that the blonde could punch so hard. "You two should come with us to the roller rink tonight, you already know we asked Crystal."

"I don't know Jan—"

"I love roller skating!"

Their heads whipped to Jackie who was practically bursting at the seams at the simple idea of going roller skating with Gigi and her newly introduced friends.

"I'm impressed," Gigi admitted with a chuckle before she slipped her hands in her pocket and shrugged. "If you wanna go then we'll go, Jackie."

Jackie nodded immediately, grabbing Gigi's wrists and kissing her cheeks as was customary with any Middle Eastern greeting. Jan giggled in the background as the blonde chuckled and struggled to hide the red flush growing dark across her cheeks.

"Done deal."

— *.✧

"This was such a bad idea," Gigi screamed at the end of her sentence as she almost flipped backward attempting to figure out how these four wheeled monstrosities worked. Crystal laughed as she and Jan each held one of her arms to make sure she stayed upright.

Jackie truly meant it when she said she enjoyed roller skating, she was passing Gigi every thirty seconds and attempting to groove along to the music that blasted throughout the rink.

Her posture was perfect, pushing lightly on the front of the skates as she navigated past the teenagers and adults who were closer to Gigi and just trying not to fall right on to the floor.

She would apply pressure on each foot and gain momentum as she attempted to keep the skating in time with the music tracks that played. Gigi was truly in awe, there was nothing Jackie couldn't do at this point.

Jaida was also quite good on her own and would laugh at Jan, who was at least consistent in falling and trying to make an attempt to walk in the roller skates.

The Persian stopped in front of the blonde with a grin, holding out her hand for Gigi to take as Crystal gave her a firm push. The two of them slammed into each other, almost falling to the floor before Jackie held on to the collar of her jacket.

"Sorry," she whispered quietly under all the disco lights and music as dozens skated past them, Gigi gently pushed away as to not get in trouble with any families who would gasp and purely start a scene in a rink at the idea of the two women attempting to hold each other, it had happened before and the blonde promised never again.

"It's okay," the blonde replied as Jackie followed Gigi in pursuit, showing her all the basics of roller skating. She slowly began to pick up some steam as she would laugh at Jan, who had given up in favour of just walking around in the skates instead.

Crystal gave one final push to Gigi as she skated by before the blonde attempted to run after her in spite, though she quickly remembered how shit her skating skills were.

"Don't fall again please," Jackie giggled aloud as the music changed to a sweeping power ballad. Gigi had absolutely no sense of rhythm according to Jaida and she couldn't even begin to disagree when she tried to find a groove to a Bee Gees song.

They skated for another half hour before the blonde had given up on Jackie trying to teach her. Frustrated she left the floor and went and sat on one of the indoor benches that were placed around the roller skate rink.

She unlaced her skates just as Crystal came over, gliding perfectly on the skates as she took the small space between the bench that was left.

"She's just trying to help you," the redhead explained as Gigi groaned, throwing her head in her hands as she admitted that she was just embarrassed and didn't want Jackie to have to keep reteaching the same three movements over and over.

"Have you ever stopped and thought why she might be teaching you all of this?"

"No," she mustered out as Gigi stared up at Crystal who only cocked a brow, cackling and opening her arms in shock.

"She's completely in love with you!" The redhead shouted in a whisper to not attract any unnecessary homophobia. The blonde covered her cheeks with her fingertips, attempting not to smile at the thought of the Persian being head over heels for Gigi.

The thought escaped her head as soon as it entered it, her body turning to Jackie who was still trying to teach Jan and Jaida some tricks on the rink. "It's been two days Crystal," her lips spoke in a saddened whisper.

"Two days, but almost every hour of every day has been spent with you Gigi. If I was a refugee and didn't have anyone else to hang out besides an obnoxious biker chick, I would have to fall in love," Gigi smiled at the reply her best friend gave until hearing the last sentence and immediately hitting her in the stomach as Crystal gasped and laughed in pain.

"You knew it was coming!"

"God you're a fucking prick."

"You love me and you know it," Crystal bit down on her tongue as Gigi supposed she was right. She'd never have another best friend like Crystal again, another friend who made sure she was comfortable with kissing women and comfortable with her sexuality.

They had dated for a few months before they simply realized friendship would forever be the better option in every universe. Though Gigi was thankful that all of her first experiences and make out sessions were with the comfort of her calm, collected and caring best friend.

"I love you from a distance, as a friend and when you're not flashing your teeth at me."

The two of them hugged as Crystal sighed in happiness. "Aren't you just the sweetest?"

— *.✧

Gigi and Jackie said their goodbyes to the happy couple, and Crystal lounged around with them as they made their way out of the rink and over to the parking lot.

"I got the car tonight," the redhead waved her mother's keys with a devilish grin as Gigi shook her head.

"We're going home, I'm not ready to get high and wake up in your bathtub again Crystal," she muttered under her breath before Jackie laughed, both amused and deeply concerned at what that story entailed.

"See you guys tomorrow!"

They waved goodbye before hopping back on to the bike, Gigi helping the Persian get on the back of the bike, holding her hand tightly before she felt that safety net around her back once more.

The ride was quieter than usual, the only sounds Gigi could hear were the engine and the occasional gentle breath let out at stoplights from Jackie's lips as she leaned up against the biker's back.

"Would you like to go back to my room?"

The question was spoken just an inch too soft and loving for Gigi to possibly refuse.

"Of course."

Jackie asked if she wanted another piece of the desert still left over from last night, to which Gigi almost jumped in excitement at the idea of eating that delicious, Middle Eastern pastry.

Bringing two plates, Jackie flipped on the TV before the two of them sat in silence, occasionally glancing prolonged at one another with wide eyes and heavy breathing.

"Have you ever kissed a woman?" The question made Gigi choke, she would never expect such an out of character question for someone as well put together as Jackie.

Gigi didn't know how to answer, she prayed it wasn't the Persian girl cornering her in to some homophobic outburst.

"I've never kissed a woman before," the Persian finally answered quietly as her hand wrapped around her curly hair, twirling the strands between her fingers as Gigi stared completely entranced at Jackie who was only staring back.

"That's perfectly understandable," her sentence barely even half way out before Jackie gently took her wrists and glanced right into her eyes.

"But I want to kiss a woman Gigi," she whispered quietly with the TV still playing the nightly news channel as the blonde completely felt every wall break and crumble beneath her.  

"I'll kiss you," the reply came softly as Jackie nodded and asked for permission to kiss her. Gigi had to laugh, even if she greatly appreciated the obvious importance of consent to Jackie.

"It would be an honour Jacqueline." Gigi grinned, licking her lips as Jackie bit down on her lip with a giggle.

Their lips pressed together as Gigi's fingers slipped through the Persian's hair, trying to gain some kind of hold as they laid with Jackie's back pressed against the arm of the couch.

Kissing her was utter heaven .

Gigi finally cracked the code: God was a woman and her name was Jackie Cox.

Every desire and suggestive thought she had the last two days felt completely validated and only grew stronger, seeing as they were going to town making out with one another.

I hope this never ends.

Gigi would've never in two million years expect that the first woman she would've made out with, besides Crystal, would be a refugee who was living in one of her dad's own apartments, but she sure wasn't picky.

The Persian held Gigi by her waist as she took the chance and gently slid her lips down to Jackie's neck, completely in the moment.

"No, no, no," Jackie instantaneously pushed away the American girl who frowned, apologising almost immediately after the words left the Persian's lips.

"I'm sorry Jackie, I didn't mean to push—"

"Don't say sorry, it's okay, I'm just not ready for that yet ."

Yet.

Jackie was impressed that she could even get through kissing a woman with all the religious and cultural hymns replayed constantly on a loop in her head.

She was not even close to ready to sleep with a woman, every memory of her home country and the propaganda and innocents murdered were fresh and far too clear in her mind.

"That's perfectly okay," Gigi's eyes fluttered nervously as Jackie pushed back the stray pieces of hair that framed her face. The blonde's smile returned as the Persian cleared her throat.

"I want to kiss you again Gigi…"

Gigi's heart raced. The idea of having any woman, especially Jackie, begging to kiss her again seemed almost far too divine of a concept.

But she did ask… who am I to possibly say no?

The blonde hummed as she held Jackie's arms against the couch with a grin painted across her cherry red lipstick.

"I'm all yours baby."

#rpdr fanfiction #jackie cox #gigi goode #crystal methyd #jan sport #jaida essence hall #gigi x jackie #jaida x jan #lesbian au #song fic #seventies au #hotel california #roza #s12

[juniperwindsong]

Necessary Monsters (2/16)

 Summary: 

There's a slight flush suffusing her cheeks, turning them a rosy pink that Felix finds intensely appealing, and it's almost impossible to keep a triumphant grin from overwhelming his face. He leans forward to brush a small strand of hair out of her face with his free hand, tucking it behind her ear and he can hear her breath catch.

 This is not at all how the evening is supposed to go.

   In his fantasies of their reunion, Felix has envisioned himself at Juniper's side, regaling her with tales of tracking Peruvian Vipertooths in the wild, roughing it in tents for months on end, wrestling with the dragon that left the long, thin scratch down the side of his neck. He's pictured exactly how her eyes will look, wide and riveted to him, as he casually relates his near-death experiences. To be the center of her undivided attention, that's the feeling he's craved for almost a year now. And he's gone to all the trouble of finishing up in Peru in time to endure a ridiculously stressful Quidditch game, not to mention the loud and over-crowded after-party, all to bring his fantasy to life.

   Instead, Felix is left sulking on the sofa nearest the fire place watching as Juniper chats with a crowd of Quidditch enthusiasts, her eyes on Orion Amari as he waxes philosophical. She leans comfortably against the wall beside the common room's stately grandfather clock. Her lips quirk in the slightest of entertained grins as she lifts her bottle of Butterbeer to her mouth and takes a sip. She's positively glowing, the happiness coming off her in waves that bolster the spirits of her surrounding admirers.

   Felix is in despair.

 It's not as though he hasn't considered worst-case scenarios: that Juniper might prefer to think of him as a sort of surrogate brother, or feel dating him to be a betrayal of Barnaby, her ex and his friend, or, the most horrid of notions, that she might even have feelings for someone else. All these possibilities he’s come to terms with, prepared counter arguments for. It's simply never occurred to Felix he might have any sort of competition.

   What began as an embarrassing flight of fancy three years ago has, through their consistent correspondence, evolved into something more, and Felix has finally accepted that the girl he's come to know so well through letters is not only worthy of his affection but might be the only one capable of inspiring it. Now, he realizes he has still been picturing the awkward young teenager he spent so much time with his last year at Hogwarts, with baggy jumpers and unkempt hair and nothing to recommend her to anyone. This young woman, laughing and chatting easily with the people around her, is poised and confident. She has accomplished things, proven her worth, grown into herself. And he isn't the only one who's noticed.

   Felix catches Barnaby staring at her, adoration practically oozing from his eyes and lips. Murphy McNully hasn't been more than his chair's width away from her at any given moment the entire evening, following her everywhere she goes, talking a hundred words a minute. And no matter how hard he tries, Felix cannot shake from his mind that awful image of Juniper grabbing Charlie Weasley around the neck.

   He scowls into his drink. He isn't prepared for this, and one thing he's learned from years of dealing with dragons is you're always more likely to lose a fight with one when you're on the back foot. It's better to leave it and try again when you have the advantage.

   Felix stands reluctantly, debating whether to say goodbye or simply disappear. He casts a last look toward the grandfather clock where Juniper and her friends have congregated, only to discover she isn’t there anymore. A few students in green face paint remain re-enacting their favorite moments from the match, but Orion Amari and Murphy McNully have disappeared as well. Felix’s stomach gives a violent lurch as he considers what this might mean.

   A hand on his shoulder causes Felix to jump. He turns to find Juniper, perched on the back of the sofa, smiling face startling close to his own. Her touch is light, but Felix is as incapable of movement as if her grip were iron.

   "Have you been over here this whole time? I've been looking for you," Juniper says brightly, eyes peering directly into his. Her eyelashes are darker than he remembers, and he wonders if she's wearing makeup or if that's just something that happens to girls as they get older.

   Felix takes a shaky breath, trying to arrange his face into a cool, unconcerned expression.

   "Well, you've had quite the crowd of fans, it's no wonder you couldn't see." He tears his eyes from hers to survey the room. "Where is McNully, by the way, I thought he'd glued you to his chair with a permanent sticking charm."

   "It's getting late. I had to kick all the non-Slytherins out* before the other prefects cotton on and come looking."

   "Yes, an inter-house after-party. I was shocked," Felix comments mildly. He re-seats himself with his back to the fireplace so he can face Juniper, who throws her legs over the side of the sofa and slides down next to him.

   "I'm quite proud actually," she says, and she sounds it. "Anyone can celebrate a win, but to get your competition to celebrate your win?" She grins and lifts her Butterbeer in a toast to herself. "That’s talent."

   Felix smiles in spite of himself and tilts his own bottle at her in salute.

   "Yes, you are clearly talented."

   They drink in silence for a moment, and Felix casts his eyes around, trying to distract himself from the acute awareness of her knees so close to his they're nearly touching. Students are still scattered throughout the common room, but it's now mostly smaller groups engaged in private discussions. He notices it's far less noisy than it was an hour ago.

   "So," says Juniper, propping her arm up on the back of the sofa and resting her head against her hand. "What are you really doing here?"

   Felix's attention is dragged back to the girl across from him, and his heartbeat quickens.

   "What do you mean?"

   "I mean, you hate Quidditch. You can't expect me to believe you came all this way just to see the match."

   Felix gulps, and hopes she doesn't notice.

   “You thought I would miss your moment of triumph?" he asks archly.

   "Felix," says Juniper, and he shivers. No one else says his name just like that and Felix has missed hearing it. "You said your interview was in a fortnight and I know how your boss is. You could barely get away to see that girlfriend of yours - what's-her-name- all last year! You expect me to believe he let you off to watch a school Quidditch game?"

   The way she's looking at him now - suspicious and concerned, a little amused and something else he can't put his finger on - ignites a fiery excitement in Felix's chest.

   "Why do you think I'm here, then?" he asks carefully.

   "I don't know." Juniper looks down at the Butterbeer bottle resting in her lap. "I guess it's just one of my greatest fears that one day I'll get a letter from you saying you've decided to give up dragons and go back home and marry some pure-blooded dimwit who doesn't know an Opaleye from an Ironbelly and wander around your giant manor house bored out your mind at some meaningless ministry job.” She says all this a little too quickly for it to be off the top of her head.

   Felix stares, momentarily distracted from the sensations she's inspiring in him. 

   "That is your greatest fear?"

   "One of. I said one of."

   She breaks into a self-deprecating chuckle that Felix can't help but join. And this is exactly the moment he's pictured for this evening. Juniper's full attention on him, laughing and smiling, conversation flowing between them as easily in person as in their letters. Confidence appropriately boosted, Felix relaxes against the arm of the sofa.

   "Well, rest assured, I've done nothing of the kind. They moved the interview to next week. Apparently, the vacancy at the Reserve needs to be filled as quickly as possible and really it's all just a technicality anyway. And I arrived in the country with enough time to make it to the match, so I came.”  

   Juniper scrutinises him for a moment, trying to determine if he's telling the truth.

   "Honestly?" continues Felix, casually laying his arm across the back of the sofa until his hand is just inches away from hers. "I really don't think I could go back now. Working with dragons, it's..." He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to think of a word that captures everything he feels about his new life. It isn't the first time he's searched for this or the first time he's come up short. "Just...incredible. Better than I ever imagined."

   "I can tell. It's a good look on you," Juniper declares with a lop-sided grin.

   Felix can feel heat creep up the sides of his face, and wishes frantically that he knew a spell to keep from blushing. But he's almost giddy at her praise.

   "Really?"

   "Oh, yeah.” Juniper makes a point of looking him up and down in a way that causes the blood to rush out of his face and settle elsewhere. "I mean, you still look like you, just - you know - a bit wilder, bit less refined."  

   She leans forward, gesturing toward the long, thin scar running down his neck and her hand is only a hair's breadth away from his skin. Felix’s fingers spring up to touch the wound reflexively.

   "More scarred, you mean."

   Juniper watches him trace the raised line. "I think it makes you look dashing," she says with a wink.

   Felix forces his fingers back down and lifts his bottle to his mouth in an attempt to keep her from seeing the foolish grin plastered to his face.

   "You look happier than I've ever seen you either. It's nice." Juniper's voice is strangely thoughtful, and something about it causes Felix to lower his bottle and inspect her more closely.

   There's a twitch behind her casual smile that he doesn't remember, as though it's harder to wear than it used to be. And there's a hard quality to her eyes he doesn't recognise either. That, more than anything, makes her look much older, and a different feeling stirs in Felix's stomach. It's the same sort of primal concern he felt when Flint shoved her during the match; a base urge to make whatever it is that's hurting her go away.

   "You look... tired," Felix concludes, and Juniper laughs, although now he thinks he can hear the effort it requires.

   "You are really bad at compliments," she remarks, and takes another swig of her drink.

   "Juniper?" Felix clears his throat, unsure how to proceed. This was not part of the conversation he had hoped to have this evening, but it feels suddenly necessary. "How are you... really? With - you know - everything?" he finishes lamely, unable to put his worries into words.

   "You're referring to this year's cursed vault debacle, and everyone who’s trying to kill me and my friends, and the whole fiasco with my brother?"

   "Yes. That."

   "Fine."

   Felix raises both eyebrows.

   "Really. As fine as you could expect,” Juniper assures him, and if he didn't know her so well he would probably be convinced. "If I look tired it might be because I've had Quidditch trainings every night for the last month as well as exams to study for. I seem to remember you spent much of your sixth year tired as well."

   She raises her Butterbeer to her lips again. Felix notices the bottle is empty.

   "That's all it is?" he asks skeptically, though he isn't sure what he wants her to say. The idea that Juniper might suddenly collapse into his arms, full of tears and in need of comfort is strangely enticing, but he can't imagine her actually doing so. Three years in the wild among trained Dragonologists, and Felix has still never met anyone stronger than Juniper Windsong. Sure enough, she pulls herself up until her back is ramrod straight and looks him directly in the eye.

   "Yes, Felix, that's all it is. I'm done with curse-breaking and vaults and mysteries. You were right all along. I need to focus on my future. That's what I'm doing now."

   Juniper sets her empty bottle of Butterbeer down on the table with a note of finality and inspects the common room around her. It's the piercing gaze of a prefect searching nooks and crannies for rule-breaking students, and Felix almost laughs out loud to see it on her face.

   She really has grown up, he muses, and suddenly remembers all the things he's intended to say and do this evening. It hasn't gone exactly the way he wanted. He's had no opportunity to impress her; no chance to use any of the stories or carefully-crafted lines he's rehearsed in his few free moments. But he wonders if he can't salvage something of his original plan.

   "Speaking of the future," Felix says as casually as he can, setting down his own Butterbeer so his hands are free. "How are you and Barnaby?"

   Juniper grimaces. "That's not the future, that's the past. You know we broke up almost a year ago."

   "Yes, he's been heartsick all year," confirms Felix.

   "He has not!"

   "I've a whole host of letters that say otherwise." 

    Felix means it to sound teasing, but Juniper looks so unhappy he instantly regrets it.

   "Don't tell me that," she moans, running a hand through her hair. "What was I supposed to do? At what point should I have told him, 'I don't feel the same way about you'? After another year? After school? After he proposed?"

   It's as close to distress as Felix has ever seen from Juniper, and a rush of confidence and courage propels his hand across the back of the sofa to brush against her fingers, currently digging holes into the leather. The brief contact sends sparks dancing over his skin.

   "I didn't say you did the wrong thing," Felix says consolingly.

   To his utter astonishment and delight, Juniper leans her head down to rest her cheek upon his outstretched fingers, her eyes squeezed shut. And if Felix thought his skin tingled before, it's nothing compared to this. A sensation like lightning surges up his arm and to his head, leaving his brain fuzzy and unfocused.

   "I hate that I hurt him," Juniper sighs, eyes still closed.

   "He's alright." Felix is careful to keep his voice even. "He's resilient. And he's enjoying his time as a renaissance wizard." His lips quirk briefly at the words.

   Juniper jerks her head up to shoot a warning look at Felix. "Don't laugh. He's learned loads. More wizards should spend time in such pursuits."

   "You're absolutely right," Felix concedes. Juniper doesn't seem about to lay her head back down, he notices wistfully, but she hasn't moved her hand from where it rests just under the tips of his fingers. He pauses before venturing as casually as possible, "And what about McNully?”

   "What about him?"

   "Well," Felix draws out the word, stroking the pad of his thumb across her knuckle lightly, impressed at his own daring. "He stayed awfully close to you all night long, and I noticed his commentary seemed a bit biased on your behalf."

   "What do you mean?" she asks, her eyes flicking toward his fingers teasing hers. Felix smirks.

   "He called you the beautiful, brilliant beater at least three times."

   Juniper snorts, shaking her head dismissively. "We're just friends."

   "The same way you're just friends with the Weasley boy?" Felix’s heart races as he finally addresses the issue he fears most.

   At this, Juniper breaks into a fit of strange giggles. Which isn't quite the emphatic denial of feeling Felix was hoping for. He says nothing, pointedly, waiting for her mirth to cool. When it does, she lowers her gaze to her lap again and chews at her lip in thought.

   "I think... maybe, I'm not really any good at...all that." She gestures vaguely with the hand not trapped under his. "I mean, life-and-death stuff I can do, that's easy, but dating?" Her fingers tap nervously against her leg. "Honestly, I think relationships are more stressful than curse breaking or Quidditch or exams. I just don't know if I'm really cut out for...that sort of thing."

   "You are," Felix contradicts her, entirely without thinking.

   Juniper tries to raise her eyebrows at him, but they remain firmly glued in place and all she manages to do is crinkle her forehead into lines. It's such a familiar expression after all their precarious talk, and Felix is transported back to his seventh year, learning the ropes of dragons with the fourteen year old version of the girl across from him. The girl who nagged him, and frustrated him, and caused him no end of trouble, and eventually, helped him see his life in an entirely new light. Re-inspired by these memories, he slides his fingers between hers delicately, his heart beating double-time.

   "It's like a dance," says Felix softly, adjusting himself on the sofa a little so their knees meet. "You just need the right partner."

   It's a line Felix has saved for precisely this occasion. It's always sounded good in his head, but something in his delivery feels off. He cringes inwardly, saved from debilitating embarrassment only by Juniper's expression of wide-eyed astonishment. There's a slight flush suffusing her cheeks, turning them a rosy pink that Felix finds intensely appealing, and it’s almost impossible to keep a triumphant grin from overwhelming his face. He leans forward to brush a small strand of hair out of her eyes with his free hand, tucking it behind her ear. He hears Juniper’s breath catch.

   "Ahem."

   The clearing of a throat, slight yet somehow sinister, startles Felix so badly he nearly falls to the floor. He turns hastily to the entrance wall where Professor Snape is hovering, arms folded across his chest, eyes narrowed almost to slits. Felix's face is so hot he's afraid it might catch fire.

   "Do excuse me for interrupting," Snape intones in a voice entirely free of apology, "But it is high time Mr Rosier took his leave, as he is no longer a student at this school."

    Juniper leans across the back of the sofa to face her head of house, and Felix marvels at how unaffected she seems to be by Snape's sudden arrival, or the intimate moment he's caught them in.

   "Professor, do you think if I were to achieve some remarkable Quidditch Cup win that also ensures Slytherin the House Championship, you might let my guest stay a bit longer?" Juniper asks, her face even but her eyes alight with sarcastic humour.

   Snape's supercilious expression does not change.

   "Miss Windsong, that is the only reason your 'guest'," his lips curl unpleasantly at the word, "is still here at all. And the only thing saving you from detentions every evening now until the end of term."

   Juniper throws a quick glance at the grandfather clock and does a double take.

   "Merlin's beard, is it really after one?" She jumps up from the sofa and spins around quickly, taking in the disheveled state of the common room.

   It's miraculously free of students, Felix realises with relief, and he can only hope it's been empty long enough no one has witnessed the end of their conversation. He gets to his feet awkwardly, smoothing back his hair.

   "I apologise, Professor. I lost track of the time," Felix says to the entrance wall behind Snape's head, unable to look the intimidating teacher in the face. He walks quickly around the sofa to the stairs, resigning himself to the fact that he won't be able to say the sort of goodbye he'd like, when he notices Juniper just behind him.

   "I'll walk you out,” she announces, with a small wink.

   Snape quirks an eyebrow. "It has not been that long since Mr Rosier was last here. I'm sure he's quite capable of finding the way on his own."

   His voice is as icily unbroachable as Felix remembers, and yet Juniper meets his gaze evenly.

   "Of course, sir, but the halls are dangerous. You never know when some new curse will just suddenly appear. It's really best if he has some protection." And she strides purposefully toward the entrance wall without a backward glance at either wizard.

   Not daring to speak, Felix follows her as fast as dignity will permit, passing Snape with a very slight nod. He expects the Potions Master to stop them at any moment, but it isn't until Felix steps through the parting bricks and into the dungeons beyond that Snape speaks again.

   "Miss Windsong," he warns, his voice a deadly, carrying whisper. "On no account are you to leave this school, or there will be severe consequences. Slytherin Quidditch champion or not."

   The bricks close back up between them as Juniper nods her concession.  

   Felix is momentarily stunned. He's never known anyone to take such a careless tone with the Slytherin Head of House and live to tell the tale.

   "Shall we?" Juniper gestures up the hall with a wave of her arm. Felix shakes himself internally and follows her through the dungeons.

   "So, is Snape going soft or are the two of you best mates now?" he asks as they walk. Juniper smiles.

   "He's the same as ever, but I think we've reached an understanding. You know, he really cares about his students deep down. "

   Felix makes a small noise of disbelief at this.

   "Deep, deep, deep down," Juniper amends.

   Felix is far from conceding that any level of Snape, no matter how deep, could be described as "caring”, but he's more concerned at the moment with how to recapture the intimate mood he had achieved before they were interrupted. He casts his mind about for an appropriate segue, but Juniper, as always, plunges in first.

   "So, whatever happened to what's-her-name anyway, your French girlfriend?"

   Felix finds its hard to believe Juniper really can't remember his now ex-girlfriend's name as many times as he's written it.

   "Aurelie. And it didn't work out."

   "Oh," says Juniper with only the faintest trace of sympathy as they mount the stairs to the Entrance Hall. "Sorry."

   Felix snorts unbecomingly. "Really? You only spent a year telling me how I could do better.” He's surprised to see Juniper's cheeks turn pink in the candle light.  

   "Well yes, I just mean...you know...break-ups are always hard, so I'm just...sorry you had to go through...that."

   Her struggle for words, the blush she wears so prettily, and the way she's looking anywhere but at him all seem like encouraging signs to Felix that perhaps, in spite of his inability to make this evening conform to the perfect scene he’s envisioned, it may not be entirely unsuccessful.

   "Don't be," he tells her. "No one was heart broken about it, except perhaps my parents."

   "Ah, yes. Pure-blood expectations and all that." Juniper grins as they cross the Entrance Hall. "So, they send you any new prospects yet, then? Applications to look through?"

   Her question wears the costume of a jest, but Felix thinks he can hear something else behind it and his stomach wriggles in pleasure.

   "I've told them I'll be far too busy for the next year adjusting to this new position."

   "I'm sure they took that quite well."

   "Oh yes, with equanimity." 

   They reach the enormous double doors and Juniper, slightly ahead of Felix, pushes them open and steps through first, waiting for him to follow. But Felix stops firmly on the other side of the doors.

   "Juniper, Snape said you were not to leave Hogwarts. And no matter how chummy you might think the two of you are, there's no way he doesn't get you for that kind of rule-breaking. You'll ruin your chances for Head Girl, not to mention the house points you'll lose. Get inside, now."

   There’s something of the prefect back in his tone and expression, but, as always, it fails to intimidate Juniper into obedience.

   "Don't worry," she replies, amusement colouring her words. "I'm not bothered about being Head Girl. Rowan's better for it anyway."

   Felix crosses his arms and doesn't budge.

   "Besides, Snape said I wasn't to leave the school, he didn’t specify the castle itself. The grounds are perfectly safe."

   "You've been attacked on the grounds more than once. And not just by students."

   Juniper sighs exasperatedly and rolls her eyes.

   "I’m sure Barnaby’s accounts are highly exaggerated. And if it will make you feel better, I won't go the whole way, just down to the road, alright?"

   Felix hesitates. He isn't ignorant of how dangerous Hogwarts has become in the last two years. There are more than just Cursed Vaults Juniper has to contend with now, and the part of him that feels responsible for her well-being has a definite bad feeling about her walking back to the castle on her own so late.

  "C'mon, Felix. I don't really want to say goodbye here in the hall, do you?'

   That argument strikes a powerful chord with him. And against his better judgement, Felix allows himself to be persuaded.

-

   "So, do you know how long you'll be in the country?" Juniper asks in a would-be-casual voice as they descend the grassy slope leading from the castle to the road into Hogsmeade. "The term will be over soon, we should get together sometime before you leave."

   It takes a sincere amount of effort for Felix to reign in his simultaneous excitement and regret as he admits, "I'm afraid I won't be here past next week. As soon as the paperwork is complete, I'll be heading for Romania. I didn't want to stick around too long and give my parents more time to nag at me."

   "Oh yeah, of course," agrees Juniper easily, but there's a very slight note of disappointment in her voice, Felix thinks. The time has come to take a risk.

   "But, once I'm settled...you know, it's not like Peru where I was in the wild all the time in tents never knowing where we were going to be. The Reserve is safe. Well, relatively safe. There's lots of people." 

   He's babbling, which is ridiculous because he's practiced this so many times. It's incredible how much harder it is to focus around her than around man-eating dragons. 

   "You could always come for a visit, if you wanted."

   "Really?" Juniper asks with genuine excitement. "That sounds fantastic!"

   Relief prevents Felix from fully concealing his smile. "I know you'll be swamped with your NEWTs, but I thought you might stay for the Christmas holiday. If you're not too busy, of course."

   There's a brief moment of hesitation on her part, and Felix forgets how to breathe as the worry he's misread everything that's passed between them this evening constricts his chest like a python. But when Juniper turns her head toward him it's with a grin so wide she hides it behind her hand.

   "I would love to, Felix. If you're serious."

   Felix stops. He makes a point of looking Juniper in the eye as he assures her, "I'm very serious," and the colour spreading across her cheeks, just discernible by the light of his wand, convinces him she grasps his deeper meaning.

   The cool night wind tosses her hair gently, and Felix has a brief vision of his hand reaching forward to caress the side of her face, her eyes widening as he leans in to her, and their lips meeting softly in the perfect kiss he's dreamed of for longer than he cares to admit. 

   It's the opportunity he's been waiting for, and Felix takes a slow, steadying breath. But as tries to recall the words he's prepared for this moment, he discovers his mind is entirely blank. He freezes, mouth slightly open. He's reminded forcefully of a night years ago when he stood at the edge of a valley overlooking his first ever dragon, desperate to climb in but unable take a step.

     After a laden moment, Juniper looks away, blush deepening, and trudges off down the hill. 

    “Then, I’ll see you in a few months, I guess," she says over her shoulder, her voice pitched higher than usual. "Always assuming next year's drama doesn’t do me in.”

   It’s a joke, a throwaway comment meant to ease the tension, Felix is sure, but it prods a secret, highly-sensitive nerve, causing him to wince almost visibly. It frees his captive limbs, and Felix quickly catches Juniper up. He grabs her hand to force her to stop and face him, no longer in a mood to appreciate the way her pupils dilate.

   “Juniper,” he says, his voice as earnest as he knows how to make it. “Promise me you're done. Really done. With curse-breaking and-and all the creatures and...you know, life-threatening situations in general."

   "Felix," Juniper replies, with a nervous giggle, glancing between them to where his hand clutches hers. "You know I can't promise that. This is Hogwarts! We're always in danger. If it's not Cursed Vaults and assassins, then it's werewolves or yetis or free-range chimaeras." The concern in Felix's face does not fade, and she sighs. "But I promise I'm finished looking for danger.”

   "And your brother? You're finished looking for him, as well?"

   Juniper stiffens. "That's different."

   "Only because it's worse," he insists, but it's the wrong thing to say. Juniper tugs her hand from his and places it on her hip defiantly.

   "It isn't a choice. I have to help him."

   "Juniper!" Felix's voice is almost pleading, and he would be mortified if this wasn't so important.

   She meets his gaze with her patented look of grim, un-swayable determination. It's an expression Felix hated when he first met her, and he feels an echo of that again. It's a defense he's never been able to crack.

   "Felix, Jacob needs my help. Even if he doesn't want to admit it. He can't do this all on his own. And I can't just abandon him." Juniper tries to force a reassuring smile. "But I will be careful. I promise."

   Uncomfortable silence stretches between them, neither sure what to say next. The sound of rustling grass from somewhere close by causes them both to start.

   "I should get back. Before Snape comes looking for me," says Juniper awkwardly, stuffing her free hand into her pocket. "But...I'll see you at Christmas? If you still want me?"

   Felix watches Juniper’s face searching his for confirmation, and he sighs. 

   "Of course," he says, his voice resigned.

-

  Felix watches Juniper climb the hill in the dark with a pang of longing. He briefly considers running after her, grabbing her arms and pulling her against him, making her understand exactly why her safety is so essential to him. But he knows it would be pointless. Schoolboys vying for her affection, Felix might compete with. But he knows there's no argument in his arsenal that will ever convince her to choose him over her brother.

A/N: *Canon divergent: I've always thought it a bit ridiculous for all the Quidditch characters to be in MC's own house, so my own personal head canon is that Murphy McNully is in Ravenclaw, the house I think suits him best. 

Read Chapter 3 | View all stories on the Masterpost

#felix rosier #felix x mc #felix rosier x mc #felix rosier x jacob's sibling #jacob's sibling #juniper windsong #felix rosier x juniper windsong #felix rosier fanfiction #hphm mc #hphm #hphm fanfiction #harry potter #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery mc #hogwarts mystery fanfic #dragonology 101 #necessary monsters #dragons

[sonipanda]

PSYCHED PSYCHED PSYCHED! I finally have a pair of Hipstik tights to review on the blog. I remember seeing this brand a good few years ago and I thought they looked incredible, but I never got round to getting a pair myself. Then the founder got in touch with me (and let me say what a beautiful soul she is) and asked me to review them! So here I am doing so!

I got 2 pairs sent from the company, and I cannot tell you how EXCIIIIIIIIITED I am. I will say that I am combining both pairs into this blog as they are exactly the same but is Size A and Size B – so there is just the waistband difference to them.

I will be separating Size A and B in some of the review below just so it doesn’t get too confusing as to which one I am talking about.

  About Hipstik

“It all started with a pair of scissors. One day after work, while changing into PJs, my husband and now co-founder, Jason, was baffled by the scissor cut down the front of my pantyhose. He said, “What happened there?” I said, “THEY’RE SO UNCOMFORTABLE, so I cut them in the bathroom at the office!” We had a good laugh and that pair ended up in the trash. And then I began the hunt for a comfortable pair. After years of trying on dozens of styles and brands, I had given up. The largest size was too small – the tug, pull and irritating squeeze. The waist always too high – why is control top the only style available?! What if I don’t want a control top at 10 a.m. on a Tuesday!

I knew there had to be better. That’s when I had the “light-bulb” moment. With our backgrounds in product development and marketing, we knew we could make this happen. I could bring women the tights they actually want to wear. Then, the real work started. Asking friends about their own experiences wearing hosiery. Finding a manufacturing partner. Samples. Conversations. Samples. Testing. Patenting. It became a crusade for comfort in a product category that has never been comfortable. And here we are – Hipstik is everything women have ever wanted in a pair. I have found my happy. And I truly believe Hipstik tights are so comfortable, they will make your day happier, too.

Happy Facts:

Hipstik Legwear is nationally certified Woman-Owned and women-made in the USA in North Carolina Real Simple named Hipstik a Best Product of 2018 Good Housekeeping named Hipstik one of the Best Tights of 2019 Hollywood costume designer recommends Hipstik Nude Pantyhose to make actresses’ legs look amazing The top most common words used to describe Hipstik in real customer reviews are: “LOVE” and “COMFORTABLE” Laura, Jason and their two daughters packed thousands of Hipstik orders from their guest bedroom at the launch of the company”

– taken from their website

The Spec

Colour: Black

Size: A (Pant size 2-4) / B (Pant size 6-8)

Denier: 16

Materials: 82% Nylon, 18% Spandex

Price: $34.00

Website: Hipstik – Black, Sheer Low-rise Pantyhose

My Outfit

I wanted to glam my pair up today, so I went with one of my Femme Luxe party dresses and added a pair of embellished court shoes to finish off the look. You can always change it to open toe sandals if you prefer, but I was dressing for dinner and drinks 🙂

My Deets

Dress: Femme Luxe

Tights: HipStik

Heels: Aldo

    The Review

From The Website: Black sheers are unquestionably the most essential element in every woman’s wardrobe. They go with absolutely anything while also adding a flattering, refined, elegant dimension to one’s overall look. Hipstik has taken this beloved fashion classic that never goes out of style and created truly luxurious sheer hosiery – silky and sleek, light and airy, and oh so comfy!

So whether you’re up for keeping things sophisticated a la Duchess Kate or want a trendier take – open-toed shoes with sheers is trending – slide into our gorgeous black sheers and effortlessly glide from day into evening.

Sheer – 16 denier Footed Limited wear, handle with care. Remove jewelry when getting dressed. Hipster mid to low-rise fit Stretchy lace top fits your shape without rolling or squeezing No sagging thanks to the silicone stick strip Super soft, super-microfiber 82% Nylon + 18% Spandex Made in the USA Patent-Pending

  Our sizing is revolutionary! Use the charts below. Find your height. Find your shape. (Double-check pant size.) Find your comfort!

  The Packaging: is pretty awesome for both pairs. They came in this slimline box (both of them) with the model wearing them on the front. The back goes into a lot more detail about the sizing guide and finding the right fit. It also shows the selling points at the top too! I was super impressed with this; never seen this before!

The packaging for Size B is identical, and even though it states ‘Black Sheer Footed‘ – it is the same pair as Size A. They used a different name to begin with, and as time went on, they changed it.

When you get in, you will find them neatly flat folded with no card. These do not have foot or leg shaping to them.

What I did find interesting is how their waistband just flowered out in front of me. The bands were not stuck together (like how you would see with holdups where the silicone is stuck together and you have to prise it apart) so that was interesting!

Packaging for Size A

  Packaging For Size B

  Getting Them On: so I have to say these were super easy to glide up the legs. There was plenty of stretch for me to widen around my ankles and then roll them up with ease. I did find there was enough material which ended up gathering around my top thigh, so I rolled back down and didn’t tug up as much the 2nd time to get a more even finish on the legs.

  On The Legs: well let me start off by saying LOOK HOW AMAZING MY LEGS ARE LOOKING?!?! I love that the light matte denier gives it that gorgeous classy look which you can pair up with any outfit you like!

I absolutely love this matte finish on them – this is perfect for my pins to be looking mighty spicy!

The quality of these are fantastic let me add; I hardly damaged them whilst I was in them, so I was super proud of myself there. I did notice that the inside of my dress was scratching up my top thigh which did end up leaving very faint snags on the legs, but nothing too noticeable. This was me just eyeing up my legs super close for the review.

The fit of these were amazing for my legs; I did find they had so much stretch that I didn’t know what to do with it at first. I had to roll down and roll up 2nd time around to make sure I get an even finish. And after I did that, I had the reinforced boxer brief part to think about. It was gathering so much at the top, I had to push my tights down a little without making it darker in places around the thighs. I will say once you get the perfect for for you, you shouldn’t have this problem at all.

The feel are so soft and so smooth on the legs, I adored them for hours. They aren’t the type to be gliding off one another, but just by looking at the you can see how soft they look. With it having so much stretch, you’re bound to get that velvety feel to them.

  The Toes & Ankle: I’m liking this area here, purely because they have such a good reinforced toe to them. The shade is slightly darker than the rest of the legs, but not to worry as it will still look amazing with open toe shoes. The strip isn’t that thick either, which I quite like. I have noticed on some pairs that they make it quite thin instead of covering the toes completely; not too sure why that is, but I’m certainly not complaining.

Around the toes, these have plenty of wiggle room for your toes to move and breathe during the day, and no pressure is added either. The feet and ankles have a lovely smooth fitted finish to them, with no signs of any wrinkles or ombre effect.

  The Waistband & Gusset: this is where is gets interesting – and makes the brand unique. So Hipstik have a low waistband so it doesn’t sit over your tummy but under your belly button instead. I made the mistake of pulling it higher then realising that it needs to sit low. I mean you do have the option to if you want, but you’re defeating the purpose of the tights by doing so.

Anyways these come with silicone bands around the top of them, which help to keep them in place all day. Unfortunately on both pairs, it was slightly big on me so they sat where they needed to but didn’t grip onto my skin well.

They have a gorgeous lace band which is around 2-3 inches thick and will fit flush against your skin. I will forewarn you and say make sure you check them out with bodycons or tight fitted clothing just in case the lace band shows through. I would have tested it myself if it fit a little better, but I thought I would add that in.

The gusset is made of the same material and looks super breathable too; this is perfect for those who wish to go commando and just as fine for those who want to wear underwear too.

I have done a collection of images in both Size A and Size B so you can see the sizing difference. I have to say USA sizing can be different to UK; each country has their own sizing guide which is why you will need to check and make sure that the size you get is the right one for your waist.

Apart from all that, I have to say the bands were so comfortable to be in. It hardly felt like I was wearing any to be honest. I know my Size A didn’t fit as snug as I wanted it to, but even so, I still felt ok in them, to the point I forgot they were on me. It’s super stretchy and they will conform to your size so you get a good fit.

Oh and let me also add these have reinforced boxer briefs to them, which start from the band and work it’s way down to the top thigh. I have to say this could have sat lower on my thighs as these had a lot of material to them for me, but if you get the perfect size they should fit around your top thigh instead of mid thigh.

  Waistband For Size A

  Waistband For Size B

    My Thoughts?

Besides the fact these didn’t fit me as well as I would have liked, I still would recommend them! I loved being in my pair and trying them out all dolled up. I loved the quality of them, the fit would have been perfect if it was slightly smaller and that low waistband with the silicone straps is just a perfect finish to it all!

Thank you so much Hipstik!

Hipstik Black Sheer Low-Rise Pantyhose PSYCHED PSYCHED PSYCHED! I finally have a pair of Hipstik tights to review on the blog. I remember seeing this brand a good few years ago and I thought they looked incredible, but I never got round to getting a pair myself.

[fiddlesolo]

hc for esme writing to her mother (the first and only time) a few years after marrying carlisle. can the whole fic just be her letter. like dear momma. she's vague about where she is living, but tells her about what happened. the abuse, the running, the baby, his death, her suicide attempt, marrying the infamous dr cullen, adopting edward, how happy she is, but that she'll never see her again, and it's better this way. To see her pour our the emotion in one last goodbye to her family.

Mama,

For years I was content with the idea of letting you suffer. A small part of me, a part that I am no longer proud of, found joy in knowing that you would have to spend the rest of your life wondering what happened to me.

I blamed you for what he did to me. While I stand by my belief that you should have helped me, that no mother should ever turn their child away- you were not the cause of my suffering. Placing my blame on you and father only takes blame away from the man who truly deserves it- Charles.

Some time has passed. It has been years since I stood before you and father begging to come home. I have found peace and in that peace, I have found it within myself to forgive you.

We did not always see eye to eye but I loved you so very much. You were harsh but you were fair. Through you, I learned how to be a strong woman. I might not have survived if it had not been for the strength you ingrained in me from the very beginning.

I married for you. I did not love Charles but he seemed a good enough suitor, did he not? He was wealthy and intelligent. He made me laugh at times, made me smile. I married him so that you and father would not have to face the embarrassment of a spinster of a daughter. I married him to give you the grandchildren you so desired, the husband you wanted for me.

He seemed nice enough until the very moment he was not. I told you what he did to me- the beatings, the humiliation at his hands. After you turned me away, he got worse. He grew more violent and impatient with me by the day. There was not a moment of my life that was not lived in fear. From morning to night, he found ways to harm me and I had no choice but to endure it. You turned me away and Charles would not allow me to have friends.

My life and marriage went on for another three years until I discovered that I was with child. The moment I knew, there was no doubt in my mind- I had to run. I packed a small bag and hid it away in a place he would never find it. I saved up money little by little by collecting coins when I cleaned his trousers or skipping meals to cut the grocery bill and pocket the difference. When I had enough, I bought a train ticket and fled out West. I lived with cousin Emma for some time but Charles eventually tracked me down. I ran before he could get to me, eventually settling in a small town a few miles north. There, I began teaching young children just as I had always wanted. I had a small apartment that I decorated the best I could. It was not much but it was everything to me. I was going to raise my baby there, give him a wonderful life full of love and happiness.

I began feeling labor pains a few weeks before I was due but the doctors had not seemed too concerned. I do not remember much of the actual labor or birth- I had been put in a Twilight Sleep. My first memory of my little baby was nearly an hour after he was born. The doctors had done their stitchings and looked the baby over before I even regained my sense of self.

They laid him in my arms and I cried. I had never seen something so perfect. He was so small and fragile. I held him as close as I could while he nursed, taking in the sight of his perfect features. He had was nearly bald but there was a bit of hair, our caramel shade. He had the Platt nose. His eyes and lips resembled mine. I saw nothing of Charles in him and for that I was thankful. His heart was kind. I could see that.

Those first few days were blissful. If I was in pain, I cannot recall it. I had eyes only for my miracle baby that I loved with all my heart. He was my whole world.

During the night of his second day, he developed a cough and a fever. The doctors kept him from me as they tried to help him but they ultimately found that there was nothing to be done. It was still dark outside when they came to my room and told me that my son would die.

I had not even picked a name for him yet. I had wanted it to be perfect. When they laid my feverish, crying baby in my arms I gave him the name Joseph after your father. He had been my very best friend when I was a girl. He never discouraged me as you and father did. He indulged my silly dreams and played along with every new game I came up with. I wanted my baby to have a part of him.

I cradled him in my arms as he grew weaker, as his skin became paler than before. His breathing was labored and his lips became blue. He took his final breath just after the sun set on his third day.

Losing him was the most painful thing I have ever experienced. Charles’ fists and heavy boots were nothing compared to holding my lifeless baby in my arms.

I buried him just a day later. I spent every last dime I had on a gravestone for him. He rests in a lovely shaded area of the town’s cemetery.

I was certain that I could not go on without him. I could not have gone home to my apartment with the crib he would never sleep in, the clothes he would never wear. He was all I had left in the world.

My grief drove me to the edge of a cliff. My broken heart made me jump.

I do not remember hitting the rocks below. Nor do I remember the good samaritan finding me and taking me to the hospital.

I remember waking up in excruciating pain days later with the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes on hovering over me with concern written all over his face. The doctor was so incredibly kind. He had the gentlest hands as he nursed me back to health. He took care of me. He saved my life in so many different ways.

I married him less than a year later. It seems quick. I am sure it will surprise you considering how often I had voiced my disdain for the prospect of marriage when I was a girl but it is true. I love him more than I ever thought possible. He never raises his hand, never even raises his voice. He has taught me more about myself than I knew there was to learn and I have done the same for him. I have never been happier.

Together, we adopted a teenaged boy. He had been a part of my husband’s family for some time before me but when I met him, I knew that I could never let him go. He has an old soul, our son. He has messy hair and a knack for getting under my skin but I love him with everything I have. He is a brilliant musician and his intelligence astounds me every day.

I cannot tell you where I am. Nor can I come and visit you. I am sure you can understand why.

As you know, I have never liked goodbyes but this one seems both necessary and overdue.

I am happy. I am loved. And I love you. I forgive you for that day all those years ago. I hope you and father take good care of each other.

With love,

Esme

#esme cullen #twilight fanfiction #abuse // #suicide // #this was longer than expected oops #long post #not to be real in the tags of a twilight fic but for someone with a great deal of mom issues this was Somethin to write #theraputic in a way #q

[mygangtome]

Five BBCRH Things We Can’t Stop Talking About, and One We’d Really, Really Rather Not Ever Have Mentioned

You Knew This Was Coming

Okay. Okay, dear tumblr user, if I’m going to do this post, I’m going to need a drink [and someone to pay for said drink -Nell]. Hang on.

pictured: @nettlestonenell, left, and the author, right

Okay. Proceed.

There’s a lot to love about this show; the fact that we’re doing this day, thirteen years later, proves that the fans never shut up about it. But there are also things that we don’t talk about, things we deny ever happened, things that are, for whatever reason, collectively retconned. Whether it’s bad writing, or poor decisions, or a good story choice that just bums us out will always be up for debate. But what’s not up for debate is that they are incredibly angsty.

And we all know how Tumblr loves angst. 

[visual representation of the above condition. - Nell]

So hey, maybe this is the thing that’ll spur you to watch it. Maybe you’ve already watched it (in which case, WHY AM I STILL WRITING THESE) and we can all remember and grieve together; a sort of collective catharsis. But let’s take this moment, on the day we remember the outlaws, to remember the ones we lost along the way.

Here be so many, many spoilers. Cue the music.

I’m Not Being Funny, But This Isn’t Funny

pictured: i’m not sure i can do funny captions for this tbh [That’s okay, I’ve stopped reading since my brain fails to recognize this event as ever having happened, and I’ve actually blacked-out -Nell]

Oh, Allan, sweetheart, you deserved better than this.

If I’m being honest, many fans refuse to admit that any part of Season 3 happened - which is a shame, as it means that you miss out on Kate and her exceptional hairstyles, and David Harewood as Tuck, and most important of all, Toby Stephens as the best, hammiest, campest Prince John ever cast - due to What Happened At The End Of Season 2. More on that later. But even those brave folks who do enjoy Season 3 shrink at What Happened To Allan.

ALLAN: None of you? … Not one of you believes me?

A young man trudges through the forest, alone and afraid and abandoned. His friends are convinced he has betrayed them, due to scheming by the new sheriff - and aren’t they quick to jump to conclusions, suddenly? Nobody will take his word that he would die rather than betray them; angry and hurt and unwilling to stay here and be punished for a crime he didn’t commit, he escapes. In his attempt to get somewhere safe, he stumbles across something that could change the course of the battle - something Robin cannot possibly know.

Nobody would blame Allan, here and now, at the end of things, if he just left. Robin doesn’t trust him - why should he help Robin?

But he doesn’t. He turns, and he runs. His first thought is of his friends.

It is also his last thought.

Arrows fly over his head from a force we do not see. One hits him in the calf. He cries out in pain and staggers, but still he runs, desperate to save the gang. Another hits him in the shoulder, and still he runs. Then finally, one final arrow hits him in the small of the back, and he falls to the ground, gasping for air.

And still he tries. He crawls on his hands and knees, dragging his dying body - though he must know it is hopeless now. He is still crawling when a pair of boots step in front of him, and he looks up into the face of his killer.

ALLAN: You?

We do not get to see the moment of his death. He gets no final speech; no chance to say goodbye. We do not even know if is the arrows that kill him, or if it is a blow from Vaisey’s sword, or some other, crueler trick. We know simply that Allan died alone, and he died bravely.

And he died in the penultimate bloody episode. [Pretty sure that’s both a literal and idiomatic use of ‘bloody’, there. - Nell]

Now, this is supposed to be a day for celebrating Robin Hood, so I’ll hold back on my anger. Suffice to say - while his death saddens me, the manner of his death and how it is treated saddens me far more.

We don’t talk about Allan’s death. [Just try making a gifset about it and watch as no one reblogs it. - Nell]

We Were Fighters, And I’m Proud

pictured: i do love this dress [And yet it sends me looking for the lint roller everytime. - Nell]

Marian is, as I’ve said before, a hero. She is as much as a hero as Robin - she has been fighting for the common folk long before Robin even thought of camping in the woods and becoming a nuisance. She is kind and brave and strong, and she is stubborn and hotheaded and reckless. She shows love to everyone, even those who hurt her. And she will never, ever back down from a fight.

It makes sense, then, that she would die the same way she lived - but that doesn’t make us any happier about it.

A man - a king - lies bleeding on the ground in Jerusalem, at the mercy of a man in black, who advances on him with sword drawn. A young woman, clad all in white, her hair loose about her shoulders, screams his name, and stops him in his tracks. She throws herself in front of the king.

MARIAN: Stop! It’s over, Guy!

GUY: Get out of the way.

MARIAN: All of this time, I’ve been fighting for England. Do you think I’m going to let you kill England?

GUY screams in anger and slashes his sword towards her. She steps back, but remains in front of the king.

GUY: GET OUT OF THE WAY.

MARIAN: (defiant) You’ll have to kill me first.

The man bellows at her; he is mad with rage, and he tells her with fire in his eyes that she needs to stand aside so he can do his job, that he’s doing this so they can be together - that she needs to be a good woman, and let the men fight. And Marian - brave, brilliant Marian - laughs. Her face lights up as she thinks of the man she loves.

pictured: i can be your hero, baby

MARIAN: I would rather die than marry you, Guy. I’m going to marry Robin Hood. I love Robin Hood.

MARIAN laughs again, quietly, and looks proud.

I love Robin Hood.

And Guy of Gisborne stabs her in the stomach.

It is not important what Guy does after that, or what happens with the King. We don’t remember that. What we remember is the sound of Robin screaming her name as he watches her fall. We remember that the first thing she says when he cradles her in his arms is ‘Where’s the King?’, because her mission is the most important thing. We remember her realisation that this is a death sentence, and the look in her eyes as she learns that Djaq cannot save her. And we remember that she tells Robin to keep fighting.

The lovers wed, there on the dry earth of that town square with tears in their eyes, and they have their first kiss as man and wife. It’s beautiful, and powerful, and devastating. And Marian pulls out the sword, screams in pain, and she dies.

And for a lot of people, so does the show. [Frankly, Robin would also agree with this sentiment. - Nell]

Again, I’m not here to preach, or to hate on this show that we love so much. But if there’s one thing we’d like to forget, every one of us, it’s that the female lead was killed - and the two male leads got a big load of angst for the next series. Whether they intended it or not, there’s a term for that, and it’s not a complimentary one. And there’s also a fair amount to be said about the fact that the BBC broadcast this pre-watershed at Christmas time, and a lot of children were devastated.

These are not the only deaths in Robin Hood. [But] They are the ones that get ignored the most, because they’re generally considered to be the most unfair - not just upsetting, but genuinely wrong for the show. [It’s a show that] massacres the cast with tremendous enthusiasm - from Roy’s death in the first few episodes to the deaths of virtually everyone* [Dan Scarlett, my Templar husband, Carter - Nell] (Guy, the Sheriff, Isabella, and even Robin himself) in the finale. But as sad as all of those (well, most of those) were, they don’t get us the same way these two do. It certainly doesn’t help that Will and Djaq, two other fan favourites, disappear along with Marian.

There’s a lot of things we’ll never shut up about with Robin Hood. There’s a reason we love it.

But there’s a reason for all the fanfic.

Happy Robin Hood Awareness Day, one and all. May the year be kinder to us all than 1193 was to the outlaws.

I’ll have that drink now. [Oh, I’d started just after reading the header... - Nell]

#bbc robin hood #robin hood #robin hood bbc #my gang to me 2019 #bbcrh #season 2 #season 3 #lady marian #alan a dale #robin/marian #submission #tw:death #lots of it #actually #interestinggin

[acecorvid]

Guilt and Longing [Spideyfam Drabbles]

Apparently all I do with this Spiderfam is write Gwen angst so here’s a compilation of little headcanons/drabbles of Gwen and her feelings regarding this new dimension:

Gwen & Peters:

“I’ll do it. I’ll stay and close it while you all get back to your dimensions,” Peter B. said definitively. There was no room for argument in his confident voice. Of course it would be him, Gwen thought. Of course another Peter would be lost.

The first time Peter B. had chimed in, saying that he would stay behind, Gwen immediately protested and insisted it would be her. She couldn’t sit back and watch yet another Peter Parker die. She had stood over the dying body of her best friend, watching the life fade from him after she’d failed him. It was the worst pain she had ever felt and when she was thrust into this universe unexpectedly, the news of Spider-Man aka Peter Parker found dead had only deepened that wound. Now, another Peter Parker was going to give up his life and Gwen could only stand by and watch. She couldn’t save a single one.

Gwen inhaled as Peter B. looked between the faces of all the spiders, sure that Miles wasn’t up to the task. She averted her eyes, shaking her head. It seemed she would always feel weak and useless when it came to the Peters of the world.

When Miles pulled it together and found his courage, Gwen could have hugged him and never let go. He did what she could not do. He saved him. One Peter Parker was going to be alive and well because of him and Gwen never wanted anything bad to happen to another Peter Parker ever again.

-

-

-

Gwen & Aunt May

The breath had left her body when the door opened and Aunt May stepped out. Aunt May, her neighbor, the aunt of her best friend, the woman who was like a mother to her. She stood quietly as she watched her and Peter B. interact. This moment wasn’t about her. This woman had recently lost her nephew, the boy she had raised as a son, and here she was being greeted with a slightly older, slightly messier version of that same boy. And with Peter, oh Peter, Gwen recognized that look on his face. She knew immediately that his Aunt May was someone he had to say goodbye to, someone that he lost and was now seeing again. Their faces reflected the same hurt, the same longing, the same feeling of coming home. It was what Gwen felt when she saw Peter’s face on the news before she read the headline, the same feeling she got when she looked into Peter B’s eyes. So she stood back and waited, she could wait.

That wait ended with Gwen sitting at May’s kitchen table, eating freshly baked cookies and waiting for the others to arrive for a training session that afternoon.

“Gwen, dear,” May said, passing Gwen another plate of cookies and sitting across from her. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I-uh, oh um I’m pretty focused on these cookies, Aunt May. I should get the recipe from you before I go back to my dimension so I can-”

“Gwen.” All May did was say her name, but there was a firm, no-nonsense tone that made Gwen freeze up. She sighed, letting her shoulders slump, and she put down the cookie she was about to shove into her mouth to keep herself quiet.

“You- you were my neighbour growing up.” Aunt May smiled in a way that made Gwen think that she knew, that the Gwen in this dimension was also a neighbourhood girl. She would have to look into that deeper another time. For now, she had something to confess. “Peter was my best friend.”

May understood instantly, her tone sympathetic. “You lost him, too.”

Gwen looked up at May, tears welling up in her eyes as she nodded, “Yeah. I uh- I wasn’t fast enough or smart enough or I was just too cocky. I didn’t save him.”

“Sometimes,” May said, nibbling on a cookie. “Sometimes I think the same thing about my boy. Why couldn’t I have done more? What could I have done differently to keep him alive. But Peter was always going to do what he was going to do, dear. No matter what reality he’s in.”

That made Gwen wince. “He wasn’t- he didn’t have powers in my dimension. He was a normal boy. But he wanted to be like me.”

May reached over, taking Gwen’s hand in her own. “He doesn’t need powers to be the same Peter. You couldn’t have stopped him, there was not failing or not saving. That boy. Oh that boy tries and tries and he doesn’t let anything get in his way. And that can be brave and heroic, but it can also be foolish and reckless.”

Her Peter had been the exact same, but then again, so had Gwen. When she got her powers she had been quick to jump into action, she had been as reckless as Miles and Peter and she had been so sure of herself. So sure that she was doing the right thing, that she was the only one who could. Watching Peter die, that had been her wake up call that this isn’t for fun. That there was more responsibility to her power than she had cared to admit. And now, surrounded by spiders, surrounded by a family of hot-headed heroic types, she knew that there were many ways to be a hero and that she wasn’t the only one.

“I- I was so scared to talk to you, Aunt May. I still, I meant I still haven’t really in my dimension except for at Peter’s funeral and I-” Gwen inhales shakely, barely holding back tears. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I can’t say that to my Aunt May because she doesn’t know that I’m Spider-Woman and I can’t put that on her. But I needed to tell you that. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect him. Any of them.”

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Aunt May stood up and moved around the table to embrace Gwen patting her hair as she soothed her. Gwen clung to waist, sobbing against her. “There is nothing for you to apologize for. You are not to blame. You’re so young, you cannot carry the responsibility for all these lives, my girl.”

She said nothing as May held her, even though she heard the door open behind them and felt Aunt May shoo them out when she took her hand off of Gwen’s head, Gwen continued to silently cry and let May hold and comfort her until she was able to compose herself. When her cries settled, May bent down and took Gwen’s face in her hands, wiping her tears away with her thumbs as she looked her straight in the eye. “I do not blame you, Gwen. And one day, I would love for you to not blame yourself.”

Gwen bit her lip and nodded, she wasn’t sure how long it would take her to get there, but with promises to Peter B. and now Aunt May, she was going to try her best to get there.

-

-

-

Gwen & her dad

It turns out Gwen was right. There was another Gwen in this dimension. She was older, somewhere in her mid to late twenties, the same age as the Peter in this dimension. Somehow, seeing a slightly older version of herself wasn’t nearly as weird as it was seeing a much older Peter Parker every day, but it definitely gave her a start when she saw her. This alternate Gwen was incredibly different though. She was smart and accomplished. Gwen knew she was smart herself, her and Peter had always competed for the best grades in school, but Gwen loved music more than grades and science and everything that this Gwen apparently loved. The music spoke to her more than equations and that was what Gwen wanted to pursue. She wondered if her dad would be happier with this Gwen as his daughter.

Except she didn’t have to wonder. Captain Stacy seemed incredibly happy to have this Gwen as his daughter. This Captain Stacy didn’t have to be disappointed that his daughter wasn’t going to college after graduating high school - this Gwen clearly had more than a couple degrees. He didn’t have to pester her about getting a real job because band gigs weren’t a steady income - this Gwen obviously was the head of some sort of scientific research department. And he certainly didn’t have to worry about his daughter not responding to phone calls because she was swinging through the city fighting bad guys and the police as she tried to capture Peter’s real killer and clear her name.

Following them around the city definitely wasn’t Gwen’s finest moment. She wasn’t proud of herself for doing it and it certainly didn’t make her feel good about herself. She wished her father would look at her with the amount of pride Captain Stacy looked at his Gwen with. Instead, her father looked at her with disappointment and when she was wearing a mask… she never thought her father could ever look at her with so much anger and contempt - and yet.

Of course, thinking about the tension between herself and her father is what distracted her as she moved to swing off the building and head back to the spidey-house; which meant her web missed the next building; which meant she fell directly onto the hood of a car; specifically the police car driven by Captain Stacy.

“Ow…” Gwen groaned, rolling over to slide off the car and rub her sore shoulder.

“Hey get off of- oh-” Captain Stacy had started yelling but was silenced when we realized there was a masked figure slumped over in front of his car. “Are you, you’re with the other guy, right?”

Gwen was frozen. Here she was, standing in front of Captain Stacy dressed as Spider-Woman and she wasn’t being held at gunpoint, wasn’t faced with a threat of life behind bars with her best friend’s death being thrown in her face once again. He was strangely calm and sounded surprised but pleased to see another vigilante spider before him.

“I-um, yes sir. Spider-Woman, reporting for duty and all that.”

“We thought there was only one of you before but now there’s two more! Why haven’t we seen you before?”

“Oh I, just visiting. Got a whole different city to protect y’know. So I’m only in the neighbourhood for a little while.”

Captain Stacy nods, “Well, you didn’t hear me say this but we appreciate the help.”

That floors Gwen instantly. Captain Stacy wanting the help of the vigilante spiders. Her help. Suddenly she wants to cry but she pulls herself together.

“I- it’s no problem.” Gwen rubs her shoulder awkwardly and gestures behind her, up to the building, “Well, I should be off.”

“That was one hell of a fall, you sure you’re okay?”

“What? No I’m fine Da- UH! Duh! Superpowers and all that! Happens all the time! Well, no not all the time, actually I’m really graceful. Most of the time. Not that time. I uh-”

Captain Stacy has been giving her a puzzling look the entire time, “You sound familiar,” he finally says and Gwen stiffens. She would try to throw her voice like Miles but she didn’t think of that this time. Plus Miles always sounds silly when he does it.

“Just uh- must have one of those voices I guess! Anyway!” Quickly Gwen shoots a web and swings herself out of the situation. She hears Captain Stacy call after her, maybe another thank you, maybe a simple goodbye, it doesn’t really matter because she doesn’t hear him and she isn’t going back. Instead, she parks herself down on another rooftop and pulls out her phone that doesn’t work in this dimension. She stares at the old unanswered messages from her father and thinks that if she has any chance of resolving things with her own father, she’s going to have to go back to her dimension eventually.

-

(first) (next)

#into the spider verse #into the spiderverse #gwen stacy #arrawrites #spiderfamily #spideyfam #peter b parker #aunt may #captain stacy #spidergwen #angst #this spideyfam has two dads

[cleacourgette]

A lesson on marriage

I cannot get enough of my favorite ship in Naruto. You know that feeling of following our OTP for years than actually becoming canon? 

I’ve been inspired by the new Boruto episodes, its so nice to see the new team suna, and see Kankuro, and see Temari training the new inoshikacho. Ahh, the feels to the chunin exams are strong.

As always, I hope you like this one shot. 

The Nara residence had been lively that day, with the presence of the Kazekage himself, his right arm, Kankurou and his son Shinki. All because their older sister Temari insisted quite a lot, even when Gaara said she shouldn’t make such thing, that he didn’t want to trouble her, that eating  together in a restaurant would have been less trouble and still could keep the whole family together. But he knew his dearest sister to be the most stubborn out of the three of them and, and with her insistence, he easily gave in.

So lively it was, and Temari couldn’t be happier through the whole dinner party, watching her family together, reminiscent of the old days when she was responsible for taking care of her sloppy brothers. Gaara was always stuck on his office, forgetting often to take care of himself, and Kakuro, well Kakuro was specially slob and careless ever since she could remember. But it was nice to bask in such memories.

The Nara family took note of how Shinki grew up to be. He was incredibly similar to Gaara, from his speech, to his quiet demeanor, his sense of priorities. Shikadai only remembered Shinki from a long time ago, when both of them were little kids, playing together in Suna, from the several vacations he spent with his uncles, all in order to learn about his Sunagakure heritage better, his mother often said. He knew and felt, Shinki was completely different now. His cousin had always been quiet, but now more than ever.

After the pleasant dinner, Temari invited them to stay over, after all the Nara residence was quite big, and having her brothers close was all she wanted. If only for a little longer. But to this, Gaara said no, and he insisted this time, he explained that  he had already booked rooms for him, Kankuro and the kids, not to mention that having dinner was one thing, staying over would be a lot more trouble he wasn’t willing to let his sister carry. He considered to her, he would be wiling to spend a few days with her when work wasn’t as chaotic. It would be nice to have the family all together in Konoha. She gave in, feeling like they just negotiated time to spend as a family.

They left for the night, and Temari was a little saddened. Shikamaru noted that down on his brain, and when they were waving their goodbyes, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close. Temari noted that down on her heart.

“Shikadai’s sleeping. I guess the first day of the chunin exams already took the best of him, huh?” Shikamaru entered the room, pocketed hands, slow pace and a gentle close of the door behind him, making sure no sounds would be made to not wake his son up.

His wife, sitting on the bed, back comfortably laying against the bunch of pillows, peeked up from the book she was reading. The dim light in the room, was just enough for her to make up the words in it. Another antique she found on the Nara library, often about Justus of the family, other times medical books, or just several diaries and notes from the several Nara heads on the family across the centuries.  Her teal eyes looked up at him, her naked legs were curled up, close to her chest, and she gently stretched one, and then the other.

The book was finding now rest on top of the bed side table, and her lips stretched a smile up at him. “Your son, isn’t he?” She teased. “Already tired and it was only the first day. Do you know what he told me about the first test? It was easy.” She snorted, dipping her body further against the pillows, her legs dancing one on top of the other sensually, a show for his eyes only.

Shikamaru’s eyes shifted between her eyes and her legs. Quick peeks at her legs, and the dance they were in, and then her teal deep eyes. The tease. “Hah, right back at you. Only you would say something like easy in a chunin exam, after all. Isn’t that what you thought when you saw me as your opponent? This one’s gonna be easy.”

The man, scratched his beard, analyzing his situation before him. Everything was pointing to this being a trap. She was faking it right now, he could tell, he already knew the little hints she dropped when she was lying or hiding something. A little twitch of her smile, the sudden change of topic, a distraction with her legs. She was good, and has only gotten better over the years, but this was a strategy he knew well by now. His wife missed her brothers, and that much was obvious by their nice evening that day. And now she was trying to cover up the fact that she was sad that they left. As always trying to be tough when she didn’t have to.

He decided to approached the situation carefully, sitting on the edge of his bed, across from her, his back turned to her, working on stripping his clothes, making himself comfortable, leading her to believe he fell for her trap.

“Is my husband feeling nostalgic?” Temari wasn’t dumb, she knew he had something planned, she could tell by the way he was being so slow and careful about his approach. This though, was one of the best things about being married to Konoha’s genius. Every day was a nice challenge, it tickled her personality. She dragged her body across the bed, reaching for him from behind, a hand coming up to his shoulder, helping him off his clothes.  

“Maybe. I did meet a very spunky little girl back then.” He arched his brow, reaching for her hand, stopping it gently, caressing it, each finger carefully.

But then she was fast to reply. “Oh did you? Spunky seems troublesome thought.”  Her other hand was now on his other shoulder, and he turned his head to face her. Her lovely hair was falling down her face, framing her olive skin in a beautiful sight under the dim light.

“Yeah. It was. It’s been a really troublesome journey all the way, but, you know? It was worth it. Look at what I have now.” He slowly turned his body towards her, and gently entwined their fingers together.

What Temari needed right now, was understanding and love. Not lust. Lust was a distraction for her, to forget for a moment that she missed being the one taking care of her brothers. She missed her roots, her land. Even thought she grew well accustomed to Konoha, she was still a brawly woman from Suna, and she would never forget that.

In her voice this time, there was need, it was breathless almost desperate. “What is it? What do you have now? Tell me?”

The gentle side of her. That sweet little thing his father told him about. She stopped being the scariest suna kunoichi in the world for him, a long time ago. Again and again, she gave him this side of her no one else saw.

It was in her nature and she felt it. It felt so natural for her to be caring with him, to be kind, to be loving. It was natural when they became accustomed to each other’s company, how they cared for each other, how strong the bonds have become, how that friendship grew into something so beautiful, and It felt incredibly natural for her to say yes, when he proposed, to kiss and touch for the first time. It was meant to be. And the thought of love and passion filled her cheeks in a rosy color, painted her eyes with a twinkle and made her lean closer to him, tilting her head in search for a kiss, but still waiting for her answer.

“I have you, I have Shikadai, I have us, our family. You were worth all the trouble.” It didn’t take long for him to answer; it was like a verse from an ancient poem, so right and so simple to say. The words spilled from his lips so easily and so genuine.

They touched, for a moment lips brushed a little, and she fell. Her eyes were closed, and she breathed him.  He swallowed back, opening her arms to accept her weight on him. His grip was secure, locked around her, and they kissed, deeply and passionately.

But Shikamaru didn’t let the kiss go any further into something more; he broke it, very gently so he wouldn’t startle her. He only pulled her close to rest their foreheads together. Eyes still closed, basking in the moment, sitting her on his lap.

“They’ll be here until the end of the chunin exams, you can take advantage of that and spend more time with them.”

She was caught. Check mate, he would say. He was probably proud of himself when she pulled herself back a little, opening her eyes. Reacting to his challenge.

“I know.” She said, already looking around herself for another plan. “I’ll do that.”

Smile grew on his face when she saw and felt her cornered against his words. So he was right about it. Years of marriage made him an expert on what is Temari Nara thinking about right now. He was truly proud. “But you wanted them to stay over, actually sleep here and be able to take care of them. I know. But they’re both big boys now, and the Kazekage didn’t want any special treatment just because his sister is here. “

Ah, that nasty, horrible man of hers. When did he get so good at knowing her? It truly pissed her off.

“Okay I get it already.” She admitted defeat, leaning against him, hiding her face on the crook of his neck. “But I’m not giving up like a certain someone.” She continued, biting down the flash on his neck, gently.

“Hey!” Accepting that bite as a challenge, Shikamaru pushed his troublesome, spunky wife against the bed. “Ah, you want a rematch from the chunin exams, do ya?” A sweet smile was covering his lips, and her hand sneaked up to him pulling his hair tie off, giggling to his lack of vision after that. She used her fingers to tangle against his hair gently, pulling it out of his eyes.

“I won’t lose this time, and I have a few new things to show you.” Her voice was quiet and deep, her eyes was defiant, and her lower lip curled under her teeth after her words came out like honey to his ears.

“Ahh…. You know I can’t lose against a woman…”

#shikatema #shikamaru #temari #shikadai #gaara #kakuro #shinki #naruto #boruto

[wordsofcleo]

Societal Repression.

Society repressed me. I don’t say that in a victim way. I very much allowed it to happen, although I didn’t realize it until much later on. I own it. I despise it. 

I’ll start by sharing my feelings and what I’ve been going through. I’m an empath. I care a lot about people and situations. I feel EVERYTHING. Yes, I feel energies. I can be in a crowd of people and know exactly what everyone around me is feeling. Human energies are like strong magnetic forces to me. I’m not some magician and I can’t read people’s minds. However, I can sense what others are feeling. Sometimes, their feelings and emotions can signal/give me a good idea of what it is they’re thinking. But no, I’m not a mind reader. I’m a clairvoyant empath. I was born this way; a blessing and a curse. Anyway, enough about my gift. Being around people can be wonderful because I know when and how to help most times, but other times it’s downright horrifying. If the environment/situation/people are toxic, or their energies are, it sends me into a tizzy. I get unbelievably anxious and want to shut down. My palms get sweaty, heart races, etc. I have been told my entire life that I have a panic disorder. Sure, that is true, but to what extent? It wasn’t until I was older than I realized I was gifted and I know energies. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized my anxiety all stemmed from energies around me. 

Due to this gift of mine, I find myself completely isolating myself from others. It has nearly ruined my life in many circumstances, but it is what it is. I cannot help the way that I am. I say “ruin” because of the isolation. I cannot turn my gift off (picking up energies) and it overwhelms me to the core. Even the great, happy, high vibrational energies can do the same. It’s exhausting. Due to this, I don’t enjoy being around people. I’ve always been a “to myself” person, but when I was younger, I was able to go out more and enjoy my life. Back then, I was a very dark person. My mind and soul was cluttered with chaos and I was not yet a healed being. Years of therapy and wisdom gains later, I became a new “me”. I am 23 years old and I have healed from my past. I am very in tune with myself - my emotions, my gift, my spirituality, who I am as a person, and so on. This changes a lot for me. While I wish I could be so “deaf” to the gift that I have like the younger version of myself was, I also never wish to revisit that version of myself. She was awful, broken, and lost. I would rather deal with the discomforts of where I am now and knowing that I am a healed woman. I am a renewed woman who is incredibly in tune with all things now. As I said, it comes with downsides. The “tune” has created an isolated life for me. Where I live, there seems to be so much negativity and hatred. The lives are very busy, uptight, and restless. This energy is toxic for everyone, but especially me who feels it so deeply. It makes me physically ill if I am around it. Hence I stay alone for the most part. Alas, this isolation creates problems in my life. Not necessarily for me personally, but my attachments and situations. For instance, I am in an engagement with a wonderful man. He wishes to explore life with me; be adventurous, go out to billiards (we love playing pool together), be spontaneous, see and do new things. However, I am at a heightened point in my life where I don’t want to do any of these things. I know that sounds silly to use the word “heightened point” when it would seem, to anyone else, that I am regressing. The thing is... I’m PROgressing. I know what I can and cannot tolerate. I filter energies and know what I can and cannot put up with. Where I do and do not want to be. Ultimately, I know what makes me happiest / most uncomfortable. I have learned to listen to myself if I want an enjoyable, peaceful, and stress free life. Sometimes being around toxic energy takes me days or weeks to recover from. That is not the life that I want. So I use the term “heightened point” because this is big for me. It is a huge time of growth. I am proud of myself. 

Now, onto society. How am I to be a recluse in today’s world? The relationship bit was explained above, as you can probably understand how that would go. But what about other situations? What about society? I have a family member that makes subtle jokes at me like, “You can’t stay locked away forever!” Or my favorite - if I agree to attend something (probably that I knew would have toxic attendees, but alas I would sacrifice myself regardless and recharge later at my own expense) and par the distasteful joke from family, “I’m so happy you’re going! I know you don’t like to leave your house.” These remarks make me pissed as a hornet. I usually react by saying, “You say that as if I have no life! As if I go nowhere!” (I don’t go anywhere...) Then, the family member is sure to tell me that’s not what they meant. Ha ha. Right. I know they know, and they know that I know. I have began to accept this for what it is. I’m a recluse, and now you know why. This is all about acceptance, which I will get to in a moment. Nevertheless, this is a societal thing - is it not? Society teaches us that we should be social butterflies. We should have lots of friends (or at least a few really, really good ones). We should spend our younger years, and especially 20s, out and about while living our best lives. Is there another way, though? What about for people like me? What if I am happier being at home reading a book, writing, singing, dancing, planting a garden, tending to my dogs, painting, or anything else? I could personally live my entire life just that way. I don’t need events, gatherings, hangouts, gaggles of friends, etc. I am so utterly happy being by myself (and with my fiance of course) and my outlets that I enjoy so much. I would never need a thing more to be happy. I have considered that the other things society says we need are just... distractions. Sure, some people truly enjoy those “things”, but what if they are distractions from others? That’s another topic, though. Some people love to go out with big crowds. Some need 10, 20, 100 friends. Some need to attend 1-5 events per week to feel satisfied. Who knows what anyone needs? Aren’t we all different? Isn’t that the whole point? Why does society teach us that it should be a social life? I am perfectly happy with myself and the life that I live. So why is this a societal thing?

Acceptance. I’m accepting that I’m this way. Accepting that I want to live this way. I’m accepting the accomplishment that I can hear my SELF profoundly enough to know what is right and what is wrong for me at my core. I am proud of myself for knowing how to listen and have my needs met by myself. This is self care. The acceptance alone is. It feels so good; so rejuvenating. A recent conversation with my fiance sparked this acceptance, too. It has been something I’ve struggled with for a long time - the acceptance part. I’ve always wanted to appear “normal” by the eyes of my loved ones (even my him, my fiance) and anyone else I knew. How are recluses portrayed in society/media? Losers. Well kids, it’s not true. Perhaps they are the most awakened humans. Think about it. Anyhow, the conversation with my fiance really opened my eyes. I can talk with him about anything. This had been bothering me for a while, so I spoke with him on it. He had very good points. He wants me to live my life the way that makes me most comfortable and happy. If being a recluse is that, then he is all for it. He says something like “Society teaches us how we should live... but we humans make our own experiences. That is the human experience. We write our own lives and stories.” How well said was that?! I need to remember it, because he is so right. “What you enjoy and the way that you want to live is what you need to do. Forget the rest!” He reminds me to accept it. So, I have. Each day, I am working more on accepting this about myself. It’s helping my chapter become even more progressed. Thank you, sweetheart.

(What do I like...?) I love being at home. Silence is soothing to me. I don’t need noise to keep my mind focused. Instead, I prefer silence. With silence, I can hear my thoughts clearly. I can balance whatever comes into my mind and welcome it. Sort it. Work through whatever I need to. I love being creative at home. I love to write and paint. I love to get cozy and read a good book. I love snuggling my dogs and watching a good show (although the shows I don’t do as much as the rest)! I love my one computer game (a social virtual platform) to chat with my online friends from across the world. These things are all so enjoyable to me. I do them all right at home. If I could live my entire life doing just these things, I would continue to be the happiest version of myself. I don’t need anything more, and I have to proceed with that acceptance. I am me. I am Cleo. I will live my life how it is best for me.