#i just realized ive made it INCREDIBLY obvious who i am when i post this

[ourlittledinosaur]

It Takes a Village? | by IV, V and Me

New Post has been published on http://www.ourlittledinosaur.com/it-takes-a-village-by-iv-v-and-me/

It Takes a Village? | by IV, V and Me

Guest Post by IV, V and Me Visit her website by clicking here.

“It Takes a Village”

We have all heard it… shoot, I think I even said it last week, but is ‘it takes a village’ just a phrase or is it really truth? Honestly, this phrase never even crossed my mind until my son was born and all the villagers came out of hiding with the good, the bad and the ugly advice; but this didn’t really bother me until I got some parenting experience under my belt. My son is 9 months old so obviously I am now an expert… even so; I was now ready to bestow my “parenting wisdom” on other moms. As soon as another mom mentioned any struggle she was having with her kids, I wanted to jump in to save the day with my expert advice on the matter… queue the other mom holding back on rolling her eyes as I ask the question all moms know too well “have you tried this?” like she hadn’t googled every possible solution to the problem she was dealing with. Was I really going to be that villager, the one with the pitchfork of advice at the ready any time I talked to another mom? Is a village necessary to survive parenthood? If so, what is truly needed?

Getting to the truth

I decided it was time to actually get other mommy perspectives on the subject of  ‘it takes a village’.  So, I gave a shout out to the Facebook world with 4 questions, two for and two against parenting advice to see if the “village” was more helpful or harmful.

Once you become a mom, something that is needed is thick skin, so that when you do end up receiving unwarranted advice, you can take it with a grain of salt. My friend Jamey W. said it best “I have heard/felt things that while harsh at the time, as I reflected (and minimized my pride) realized they were probably right or at least something there that should be considered.” This is a mom with a teenager and a college student; her answer is why I need to have mentors in my village to explain, “Pride causes us to miss a lot of truth.” Yes, getting offended is a cultural phenomenon, but instead of pouting, I can take what has been said and use it to grow and become a better, more developed person. I learned pride gets in the way of even allowing myself to be surrounded by a village. One obvious way I realized I needed growth in was learning that my son could benefit from being around others.

At first, I was very hesitant to allow other people be around my son, I mean, I made him… I can be selfish, right? But once I got past that, I found how beneficial it was to have others interact with my child. They would play with him in ways that never would have crossed my mind, and truly showed me new ways to love my son.  “It is incredibly valuable to be in community with other people who pour into and love your child– they speak into their lives in a multitude of ways, and it’s powerful and humbling and so much better than doing it on your own. Other people can speak into their gifts, challenges, and behavior in a way that you can’t, and they see the things you have blind spots to.” –Annie M. This is why it is so important to have peers be in my village. Your peers can help you to be more creative with teaching and during play time as Jenna S. saw this as “a refreshing reminder to not let your child play her way right through her days without me, I just don’t want to miss It.” This has also opened my eyes to the fact that controlling every aspect of my life is just not attainable; I need help and support.

            Being a very controlling person, I really wanted to do everything on my own and then… well, exhaustion set in. The other night I broke down (my son has started waking up at 2:00am hyper and not going back to sleep until 3:30am), my husband offered to pray with me as I was rocking our son to sleep and I said, “no, I just want to get Ru to sleep.” It took me about 5 minutes to realize what I needed was my husband to pray over me and once I gave up that control, it was like a gospel choir came rising up singing “Hallelujah”! A wise friend stated, “Praying that the Lord would guide you in each situation and lead you on how to love, affirm, teach, correct, and discipline in a way that is honoring to him. Praying isn’t hard to do, but always feeling prepared and equipped can be hard when it comes to parenting.” This makes me realize that protectors are needed in my village. God allows us to lean on him and others just as a friend who is a fellow new mom has grown to “learn now more than ever to trust in God’s plan and have faith that no matter what, He knows what is best and He is leading our lives.” After recognizing all that was needed for my village to be a great support system, there was something gnawing at the back of mind, something that was missing.

             Out of all the moms I had asked these questions to, one specifically made me realize something most moms are afraid to say “I am one amazing woman and mom.” –Jen H. She is a single mom who has had to learn how to be strong for her and her kids. “But our God is good. And he put me through some tough times that led me to now. And who am I now? A fully functional adult who can clean and not lose her cool; I make doctors appointments and make sure the kids get their fruits and veggies.” This is when I realized confidence is needed in myself for the village. I am my toughest critique when it comes to my skills as a mother but why can’t I admit that some days I am doing a great job or some things I do rock at as a mother. I feel confidence could be such a great tool for us to spur on to be even better, to never stop trying to achieve the goal of loving our children fiercely.

The Do’s and Don’ts

Here are some of the BEST advice moms have benefited from hearing:

“You’re going to make mistakes, they grow up despite us, and they grow up fast so enjoy every moment.” –Jennie H.

“It is the ride of your life! Have fun! Find what works for you and do that.” –SueEllen H.

“Sleep when the baby sleeps” –Candace T., Chrissy S.

“Never let the kids leave the house without saying you love them.  And always say encouraging words to your children.” –Ann M.

“Each difficult stage is temporary and you will miss It.” –Calli K.

“Do what you feel is best for you and your child and not to worry about what others think.” –Amanda B.

  Things to keep in mind NOT to do:

“Saying things like ‘they are going to see it eventually.’  It doesn’t mean they need to see it now!” –Candace T.

“My sister-in-law never had kids and she always told me how to raise them, she would punish them in front of me when they would do something that was no big deal to me.” –Ann M.

“I felt pressured by others to use formula, feed her puréed and solid food, to sleep train when I wasn’t quite ready yet.” –Calli K.

“I have had a lot of people tell me that my daughter is big for her age and maybe I should watch what I feed her.” –Amanda B.

“As I was struggling to get my firstborn to latch I decided to pump and bottle feed her until our latch was successful. My MIL told me bottle-feeding wouldn’t create as strong of a bond as breastfeeding would. My bond with both my children is unbreakable and bottle shaming is as ridiculous and insensitive as breast shaming. Fed is best!” –Anonymous

“People trying to fix problems I’ve been working on forever like my child’s diet or showing distaste for the freedoms I allow.” –Jenna S.

So, is ‘it takes a village’ just a phrase or is it truth?

The truth is, it takes the right village… so choose wisely.

-IV, V and Me

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Tell us about the advice you have received, including the good, the bad, and the ugly!

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#Guest Post #Parenting Advice

[pinkoptics]

Well Cherik Friends...

Today is the day. Gotta finish this remix fic today.

8,855 words in

72 hours - 7580 words written (2,500 words/day)

I’m on the last leg of this crazy writing marathon.

Wish me luck!

#i just realized ive made it INCREDIBLY obvious who i am when i post this #snorts #so much for anonymity #oh well 🤷🏼‍♀️ #here we goooooooooooooooo #cherik #cherik fanfic #xmen remix 2020 #pinkoptics writes #thats all she does write now #thank fuck im not working

[aegialia]

self-indulgent reflection on being on tumblr

so i recently hit 1000 followers on here and this blog has existed for almost exactly 8 years, so i wanted to ramble about tumblr and my experience of it for awhile. under the cut so definitely feel free to ignore this.

i started this blog right around when i was fourteen and had just started high school. at that point, i was out to my parents (and no one else) as bi, i had an inkling i was Struggling with something but i had no idea what and felt like i couldnt actually acknowledge it, and i had left leaning but very vague politics. tumblr definitely has shaped my journey around sexuality/gender/mental health/politics, both for good and for ill. 

for good: 

seeing other ppl talk about being lesbians helped me realize i could be a lesbian w/o being a traitor to the concept of bisexuality. hearing trans ppl talk about their experiences and explaining non-binary stuff and dysphoria helped me understand what i was going through 

i don’t like talking about my mental health stuff in detail on here, but suffice to say, i was Going Through it in high school. i’m still going through it now, but i am in a much better place (thank you medication and 7 years of therapy!). seeing ppl talk about the weird, dumb, awful parts of mental illness let me acknowledge that i was going through those things too, that i wasnt like evil for feeling like that, that i could change. people talking about adhd/autism was particularly helpful---being able to identify why i’d always felt like my brain just didn’t work right is the first step in the (ongoing) process of not hating myself for the way my brain works

politics is definitely the area where i think tumblr was the best for me. i got exposed to so many opinions i definitely wasn’t hearing in school, from intelligent, well-read people who could articulate theory in ways i could understand. tumblr didn’t give me my politics and i didn’t learn everything i know about theory from it, but the communities of people i was around pointed me in the right directions. tumblr was also a good place to learn how to react to criticism. this doesn’t seem to be most people’s experience, but getting called out over minor things on tumblr genuinely helped me learn how to take a step back, look at my behavior, apologize, and try to change, which, as it turns out, is a helpful skill irl as well

for ill:

wrt sexuality and gender, it’s probably pretty obvious someone who’s journey is ‘cis bi girl -> cis with a million different microlabels -> nb w a million different microlabels for both sexuality and gender -> nb butch lesbian who’s not super into romance’ would have some bad times on tumblr. the bi circles i was in made being a lesbian seem like an immoral choice, the ‘’’mogai’’’ (or whatever u wanna call them) circles made me feel like i had to divy up and perfectly label every aspect of myself in a way that really wasn’t helpful for me, the lesbian circles i was in made me feel like being a lesbian was about ending up in a monogamous butch/femme cottagecore relationship and that there was something wrong with me for not really wanting that. to be clear i think microlabels can be very helpful for people/a monogamous butch/femme relationship is a perfectly fine thing to want, they just didn’t work for me. im very very glad ive reached a point in my life where i dont feel the need to stay up to date on the latest discourse and am more focused on finding a way to exist that is comfortable for me and supporting my community irl. 10/10 would recommend to everyone

not going to get deep into it, but social media is. not good for my brain in general. i still enjoy using tumblr, but these days im pretty careful to step back from it frequently and treat it as an occasional hobby. 

the cons of political stuff on tumblr are probably also very obvious. there are some just awful discussions on here and the culture surrounding the way we handle bad behavior and justice and accountability and working to become a better person and make up for the harm you’ve caused has historically been fucking awful and trying to unlearn it and find new ways to engage with this stuff is exhausting. 

for all that i’ve changed over the course of having this blog, this blog has stayed pretty fucking static. i started out being super into diana wynne jones and the iliad and those are still two of my biggest interests and things i talk about the most on here. there are definitely specific things that have petered away (i started this blog almost entirely to keep up with good omens fan stuff and i pretty much haven’t touched it since the miniseries came out, i haven’t sought out pacific rim/supernatural/elementary/mcu content in years), but im still pretty much interested in the same things. i like relatively small fandoms, i like weird side characters, i like to be a grumpy child playing with my toys in the corner. when a fandom im in gets popular, i tend to stop engaging with it entirely (hello rqg/tma/good omens/enola holmes!). i dont think its a pretentious ‘i liked it before it was cool’ thing so much as a ‘people get Weird and awful when a fandom hits a certain level of popularity and there’s too much content and i really, really hate the bad faith arguments larger fandoms tend to spawn’ thing. i’ll consume content from big fandoms, but i pretty much refuse to actually engage with them at this point.

one of the stranger parts of my experience of tumblr is the social side. i’ve never really known how people make friends online---how do you go from liking each other’s posts and occasionally replying to them to actually being friends who communicate off social media? i’ve had conversations with ppl on tumblr and i’ve had sort-of friendships that are contained to tumblr where i’d like to get to know them better, but i’ve never figured out how to do that. my best friend’s job is pretty much to make friends/connections on the internet (she’s an activist and artist), my dad knows people everywhere in the world from twitter, and i’m just sitting here like a little old grandpa who doesn’t understand how you can have internet friends. 

at this point in my life, i’m fine with this, but this has made me feel real fucking bad in the past---like, if everyone online, even the ppl who say they’re weird and brainbad in a similar way to me, can make friends on the internet, what’s wrong with me? particularly in high school and my first year of college, when i was just horribly lonely all the time, it made me feel super disconnected and like there was something fundamentally bad about me. these days, i’m a lot chiller about it. i use social media to engage with stuff i enjoy and share my thoughts about it. it’s okay that my social difficulties extend to me not knowing how to use the internet to socialize.

on a somewhat related topic, it’s wild that i have 1000 followers. obviously, that’s not an actually super large number and a huge number of them are probably bots or inactive. if you post consistently for eight years and follow lots of people, like i do, it’s not a surprise to end up with this many followers. it is also, thankfully, the sort of followers that are not fans. probably most ppl following this blog dont remember why they followed and dont know anything about me or my interests. this sounds like its meant to be depressing but it’s not. i like that my way of engaging w the internet lets me do pretty much whatever i want and no one will care. the mere concept of being. like. tumblr famous in any capacity, even just in one community/fandom, is viscerally horrifying to me. 

i really enjoy the space i’ve created for myself on here. on one hand, going back through my blog is obviously embarrassing and full of hating my past self. on the other hand, i now have a very nice collection of things i enjoy in this blog. i like seeing what i’ve been interested in and (when i’m in a good mental health place) i like to be able to remember how i thought and talked about the things i loved when i was younger. im not at the place in my life where i can love a younger version of myself, but sometimes i can laugh at zir with a level of fondness. 

i’ve always been paranoid about sharing details about my life on here (and the fact that my parents have always been able to see it certainly contributed), so the version of jack on here is a carefully curated version, who’s super enthusiastic about the things they love, was very conscientious about apologizing and trying to do better when ze messed up, and tried to be polite to others. that’s a younger version of myself that i’m closer to being able to have compassion for than the version i find in essays and poems and memories. 

i’m starting grad school in ten days and i’m still using the blog i started when i began high school. tumblr has helped me in a lot of ways and hurt me in a lot of ways, but i still have to admit that it’s been a significant factor in shaping me. i’d be incredibly embarrassed to admit that irl, but it’s true. other than my family and like one friend, this blog is one of the only things that’s ‘known’ me since i started high school. i’ve changed so much in that time and im glad to have this weird little record of myself throughout those changes, even if i’d probably warn my younger self away from tumblr if i could go back in time.

tl;dr i have had a mixed experience on tumblr and i have mixed feelings about that experience. no idea if anyone read any of this very long, very rambling internet memoir

p.s. fun facts about this blog:

i’ve never changed my icon or blog title

i recently got a second version of the poster i got my blog title from. i chose my blog title by looking at what was hanging on the wall directly in front of me. 

my original url was gloomthkin. this was not, as you’d probably assume, an otherkin thing. i had literally no idea what otherkin was at that point. i’d just learned the word gloomth from a bill bryson book and thought it would be cool n edgy to be the child of the quality of gloom. i changed my url after i learned what otherkin was and realized everyone probably assumed something about me that wasn’t true which i hated (not bc i had an issue w otherkin, just bc i don’t like ppl thinking untrue things about me)

during my good omens days, i once sent a tumblr ask to nail guyman which, in retrospect, was kinda rude. i stand by the content but id never send an ask like that now. he replied to it privately in a way that so deeply embarrassed and shamed 15 year old me that i’ve never gotten over it. i still get nervous and embarrassed when i see anything about him or his books

#gloomth and circumstance #this is definitely not required reading! #i just felt like rambling for a very long time about my feelings and my blog #w bonus blog trivia at the bottom that amuses me and probably no one else

[chikkou]

Will you talk more about Lisa?? Lisa the character specifically but also your feelings on his feelings about Buddy? I just thought your analysis was so good and I want to hear other thoughts you have on her.

yall are honestly spoiling me rn sdhkfdjfks this is like a dream come true 

i already got into the stuff with buddy in this ask here but i have a LOT to say about lisa and the connection between her and buddy so u better settle in!

ok so firstly ill start with lisa. i played the original lisa game (lisa the first) not long after it first dropped in 2012, and im not even kidding when i said it changed me LMAO.... seeing a story about a girl suffering is nothing new, but austin jorgensens approach to it was so fucking unique. you dont just witness it, you get to EXPERIENCE it right along with her. many stories that involve sexual abuse/rape show or otherwise depict it explicitly for the shock value, which is both disgusting and, in my opinion, extremely fucking exploitative. i feel that it is horrific to dignify an act so deeply evil with screentime. but lisa stood out to me immediately because, even though you know exactly whats going on, the game NEVER shows anything explicit. everything is layered in subtext and symbolism, and austin is fantastic with indirect storytelling, so you learn so much from just a little drop of information. this applies not just to the game proper, but to the character as well.

in case its not clear: i absolutely ADORE lisa. she is my favorite character in all of the games, bar none. its going to sound kind of fucked up, but as a kid around her age going through some fucked up shit, her committing suicide at the end felt like a sort of victory to me. she knew she could never escape from marty or what he was doing to her. he leaks into every single part of her psyche, everything she ever cared about or loved is ruined because of him, and even the vague memory of her mother is completely corrupted, and turned into a muddled version of him. lisa the first also had the added benefit of some religious commentary, as there are crosses all over their home and marty is characterized as an extremely religious man, which i fucking LOVE and wish had come back in the painful, but its an acceptable loss. anyway, lisa committing suicide at the end was an act of defiance against not just marty, but martys god, as suicide is considered a mortal sin in catholicism. lisa knew she’d never be free of marty in life, so she escaped the only way she could; she was defiant to the end.

ive seen people complain that the painful has a bit of a “lost lenore” thing going on, since lisas death seems to fuel the Manpain of both brad and buzzo, but i actually disagree. on the contrary, its just like austin himself said - lisa will never be gone. lisa is ALWAYS there, with brad, and buzzo, and buddy, and marty, and yado, and the ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD. i dont necessarily think that there is something paranormal going on in the game, but i AM going to say that, unlike other cases of a girl/woman dying for a mans backstory, lisa isnt just a bittersweet memory they can reflect on and then put away when its convenient for them. she is a presence that is felt throughout the entire game. brad sees her more than once, sometimes watching, sometimes reprimanding him. buzzo is clearly haunted by her, as he cries out to her a few times in the joyful. every character who was directly touched by lisa - brad, marty, and buzzo - calls out to lisa as they die. call it their guilt or call it her actions, but in either case, it is clear that lisa just as significant of a character in the painful as she was in the first, even if she cant always be seen. even in a meta-sense, every game in the series - even the joyful, whose protagonist doesnt even know who she is - is named after her. she is at the center of everything that happens in them. 

that actually brings me to buddy, because i find the dynamic between her and lisa fucking fascinating. as i previously mentioned, brad never talked about his past with buddy, and snaps at her for bringing up his adoptive son dusty (rando), so it goes without saying that she definitely doesnt know who lisa is. in spite of that, though, lisa is a fucking massive part of buddys life, and while she may not know the person herself, i think she is aware that when people (and brad especially) look at her, they arent seeing HER. 

i mentioned it in another post, but even though brad takes it upon himself to raise and “protect” buddy, he seems to almost unwittingly recreate lisas appearance, primarily by allowing her hair to grow long even though he knows what a risk that is to her safety. he also treats buddy in a manner thats incredibly similar to how marty treated lisa (sans sexual abuse, of course) - he insults her, does not let her leave the house at all, and forces her to do unsavory things that no one should ever have to do (in buddys case, this means killing at least two innocent people because brad doesnt want a “weak” daughter). the most literal comparison between buddy and lisa is the fact that they are both very young girls being essentially held captive by their father figures, albeit for different reasons, and both long for freedom from their captors. 

theres also the fact that both buddy and lisa have to deal with misogyny and the effects of rape culture firsthand; they both battle against men who feel entitled to do with them whatever they please, and the threat of ongoing sexual abuse looms heavy over both of their heads. neither one can seek help from anyone; the neighbors in brad and lisas town seem complacent at best, if they even know what is happening to lisa at all, and buddys only allies (sans rando) are long dead by the start of the joyful. this is not just a hypothetical or a distant possibility. this is the real, tangible fate that will befall them if they cant somehow secure their safety.

sadly, because lisa wasnt playable in either of the rpgs, we dont know if she was able to fight as brad was, but it is highly probable that she had the innate skill but was never able to learn it (as marty highly discouraged them from learning “their grandfathers karate,” and seemed disgusted whenever brad did so). however, she did have ONE weapon she could make use of, and this is a weapon buddy ends up using, as well - her femininity. she became close to bernard (aka buzzo), made him fall in love with her, and then used him as a last ditch effort to stop martys abuse by having him mutilate her face. im not saying lisa never cared about bernard - in fact, i think she DID really love and care for him - but her own fucked up experiences with “love” meant she really couldnt understand what it was supposed to be like, or that it was wrong to manipulate the people you care about. lisa did very few things wrong - it pretty much just stops at the maiming of the cat and her manipulation of bernard - but she knew that she would never get away from marty without some kind of drastic action being taken, and scarring herself was her last ditch effort before ultimately committing suicide.

buddy ends up taking a somewhat similar tack in the joyful, and like in lisas case, its simultaneously resourceful and horrific. one of buddys key moves in the joyful is to flash the enemy (which the player obviously doesnt see) in order to distract them long enough to get the kill. its fucking horrible and disgusting and makes you feel so dirty, but then, how must buddy feel having to do something like that just to survive? shes just a child, but in a world where almost every man is out to get you, she knows this has to be done to save herself, very much like lisa. unlike in lisas case, though, buddy is successful in securing her safety in this way - lisas effort is for naught, and leads to her committing suicide not very long after. 

in a way, i sort of attribute buddys brutality to lisas omnipresence; all of the men pursuing buddy are just like marty, monsters who would harm a fucking child for their own disgusting ends, and i think that when buzzo said that lisa wouldve loved olathe, what he means is that she would have loved seeing so many horrible men being punished for what theyd done. so in my opinion, buddy carving out a place for herself in olathe by killing all those who would subjugate her seems very much in the mentality lisa would have had. sure, there are some innocents who sadly get roped into it, but that would definitely not be her intention; for example, if buzzo could have practiced amputation without harming a living thing, i dont think lisa would have asked him to practice on the cat. note the LACK of brutality at the beehive and the swamp bar, two of the few peaceful places in the painful and both devoid of predatory men hunting for buddy - lisa has no qualm with any of them. but marty? brad could hardly even get a full sentence out before killing him on the spot. i dont doubt that that has a great deal to do with lisas presence. 

ok i talked for a while LMAO but basically i think that, in a more metatextual sense, lisa and buddys relationship really strikes me as an accurate depiction of generational trauma. of course it was intentional with the more obvious trauma chain (marty to brad to buddy), but the trauma chain of marty to lisa to buddy is rarely ever addressed due to lisa not physically appearing in the painful. however, i believe it may inform buddys actions a great deal more than people realize - after all, buddys experience is unique, but who could understand it better than lisa? who knows that sort of pain, of being alone on an island, the lone woman trapped with a man (or men) who want nothing more than to cause you harm? even without her realizing it, lisa is guiding buddy, encouraging her to take back what is hers no matter the cost, to punish those who would try to take what they want from her. lisa might be dead, but she is a vengeful presence throughout every game, and buddys actions feel like theyre meant not only to save herself, but to avenge lisa, even if she doesnt realize it. at the end of the day, buddy and lisa both get to exact revenge against all the men who have wronged them, and they succeed. they are aggressive, and violent, and selfish, and ANGRY - and they have every fucking right to be. 

#lisa the first #lisa the painful #lisa the joyful #long post #yall GOTTA stop u know good and damn well i will talk about this game all fucking day hdskjdsk #rape mention #abuse mention #lisa #anya's anons

[artificialqueens]

Chamomiles, Chrysanthemums, and Everything In Between [Gigi x Nicky] - ChaosKatya

summary: In which Gigi’s a florist, and she’d like to think she usually has a pretty good head on her shoulders. That is until a new tattoo artist starts shifts in the studio opposite and well, now Gigi’s not quite sure what’s going on with herself anymore. Everyone else seems to know, but Gigi sure doesn’t.

a/n: first full chapter ive ever posted! again, let me know what you think @chaoskatya <3

“Gigi… Earth to Miss Goode? Gigi. GIGI!”

Jaida claps loud, startling Gigi from her trance. Bolting up from where she was leaning on the counter, she turns so quickly to face her coworker she nearly knocks her iced coffee flying. She stumbles for it, saving it from tipping over, smiling sweet like nothing happened.

“Yes, Miss Hall?”

Jaida laughs softly. “Do not Miss Hall me. Girl I was talking to you for a hot minute before I realized no one was home up in that pretty head of yours.”

“Rude. I was nodding and everything?”

“Uh huh. And what was I talking about?” Jaida props her hand on her hip, waiting for an answer.

Gigi wracks her brain, and comes up empty. She at least tries to smile to make up for it. “Uhh, the schedule for the succulent shipment arriving tomorrow?”

Jaida laughs, loud and brief. “Ha! Nice try. Wrong.” She swipes for Gigi’s drink, taking a hearty sip to cement her new ownership.

“Hey–!” Gigi tries to protest, attempting to grab for it but Jaida just holds up a perfectly manicured nail at her.

“Nu uh. You don’t deserve this. ‘Sides, it was totally half melted from how long you were spacing out there. What’s on your mind, girl?”

“Nothing! I’m just. Distracted, that’s all,” Gigi sighs, and can’t help but flicker her eyes out towards Wallflower’s storefront.

Jaida doesn’t miss it. She follows Gigi’s eyes out the window, and raises her eyebrows in understanding. “Mmhm… I’m sure you are,” she smirks and walks away, sipping Gigi’s coffee loudly for punctuation, “Make sure you finish your orders for pickup today before you chase your french fantasy, ma cheri.”

Gigi opens her mouth to argue, then just makes a frustrated noise in defeat. Jaida’s not wrong, she just hates how obvious it’s become. It’s been getting worse, now only 10 am and her head’s already in the clouds and she has yet to actually start working on any of the arrangements she’d meant to have started almost an hour ago. Tying her long hair out of her eyes, she stands at her work station for a good while, staring at the order forms handed to her this morning. All small individual orders, mostly early Valentine’s arrangements for folks looking to beat the inevitable price hike or gifting early to work around prior plans, or some highschoolers probably asking people out to prom since the season’s coming up. Relatively simple and easy for Gigi’s skill, but she still can’t get herself to focus. When nothing comes to her, probably from the lack of coffee, she decides not to linger and gets up to check on the displays.

She goes over a checklist in her head for things she could do that’s still considered productive but isn’t at her actual arrangement station. She checks soil moisture in the succulents, watering the drier ones, prunes some of their smaller flowering shrubs that are getting a little bushy, and double checks the temperatures on the floral coolers.

She’s wiping down the leaves on a large monstera in the houseplant section when she smacks herself on the forehead, realizing she’s subconsciously navigated herself towards the front of the store and is now conveniently right beside the front window. Still, she can’t help herself, and tries to peer across the pedestrian street in hopes that at least seeing her today will temporarily get her out of her system.

It’s been a week since Harmonize, the tattoo studio across Wallflower, had filled in their vacancy and signed on their newest artist. The two stores are fairly friendly, when Gigi was hired over a year ago the owner Widow had brought over fresh baked bread to introduce herself, and it was one of their artists Crystal whom Gigi chose to ink the small piece on her rib. In fact, the two grew pretty close and she’s hung out with Crystal as many times as she’s hung out with Jaida who’s her actual coworker, the three of them often grabbing lunch or a drink together if time permits. It was her understanding that even before Gigi had joined the team, all the stores on their little promenade area were relatively familiar with each other. It was a small shopping district, all pedestrian walkways and local establishments, not fairly common anymore with the rise of larger malls. This meant the stores often knew and supported each other for solidarity, and that it wasn’t odd for people from other stores to pop in and introduce themselves.

That being said, it’s been a week since the new girl had started shifts and Gigi still hasn’t worked up the courage to talk to her. She’s only caught glimpses of her, either walking out with Crystal after locking up or stepping out in the middle of the day for a smoke break. Gigi knew of them needing a replacement after Dahlia had moved coasts, but she remembers how when actually seeing her in person for the first time her breath completely hitched in her throat and she had to run to the break room to hide for a bit.

Luckily for Gigi, unluckily for her work still left unattended, the walkways meant not a considerable distance between the two storefronts and she’s immediately able to catch a glimpse of the mystery girl inside leaning against the front desk. She can visibly see her short, slicked back platinum hair looking as pristine as always, and today she’s got on a red lip that looks so, so good. She barely knows anything about her, doesn’t even know her name, but by god would it be a lie to say she isn’t pretty enamoured.

Crystal’s obviously her coworker, but no amount of pleading texts will yield her any information. Jaida’s spoken to her already on her own but also refuses to tell Gigi anything, apparently because she thinks Gigi’s refusal to go alone is funny, other than that she’s French and hotter up close and that her accent was “delicious” which was incredibly not helpful. Gigi contemplates how this accent might sound when instead it’s her boss’s voice that suddenly appears next to her.

“She is pretty hot. I think I have a crush on her too.” Jackie says plainly into Gigi’s ear.

Gigi yelps and jumps again for the second time this morning, this time a lot more embarrassed thanks to being caught by her boss not only clearly slacking off but openly staring at the store opposite. And that she can’t even cover up Jackie knowing exactly why she was staring.

Jackie just laughs good naturedly and shoves an iced coffee into Gigi’s hands, holding another two against her chest.

“I was on the way when Jaida texted me saying she drank yours and to pick you up another one, so I got some for all of us. Something about you needing the caffeine, and I can see why,” she looks out the window to Harmonize, then back at Gigi, “finish those orders first, yeah?” She smiles knowingly at the younger girl, then heads to the back room where Jaida is probably counting stock.

Jesus christ, she was too preoccupied with her own thoughts she didn’t even hear Jackie come in. Their door has a fucking bell and she was standing right beside the front window. Well, nothing like a mountain of work and some fresh iced coffee to shake off a morning of embarrassment.

All things considered, Gigi loves her job. It’s something sacred to her, something guaranteed to ground her, soothing her senses and pulling her into a focused zone like nothing else. She loves the feeling of stems in her hands, watching an empty vase or paper wrap build into a living work of art that tells a story. She was never that big on plants as a whole, Jaida and Jackie tend to cover the succulent houseplant and herb territory better than she ever could, but she’s always had a soft spot for the flowers. She’s built up her craft and made a niche for herself in Wallflower very quickly, there’s nothing more enticing to her than mixing and matching colors, textures, shapes and sizes until her perfectionist ass is satisfied with the outcome. She always jokes that none of her work comes out short of instagram perfect, well worth more than just their price. She’s even taken to studying up on old flower meanings in her spare time, and while she thought they were silly at first she did grow a little attached to the convolutedness and intricacy that goes into working meanings into her arrangements.

She’s got a couple of standard bouquets up first- Wallflower provides a ‘cheat sheet’ of pre-determined arrangements for customers not particularly picky or familiar with what goes into their bouquets. She holds a sunflower in the center of the vase to build upon, surrounding it with a smattering of simple pink and red roses. She fills the shape with baby’s breath and green heather for texture, before filling whatever gaps are left with myrtle sprigs for more greenery.

She goes over the meanings in her head while she ties off and trims the stems and decoratively wraps the arrangement in delicate, pink paper and clear cellophane- adoration, happiness, love, innocence, admiration, love. It’s incredible to her how many flowers basically mean the same thing, but she supposes it’s hard to offer something as beautiful as a flower and not convey some form of affection.

She’s a couple of arrangements in before her phone buzzes in her back pocket, pulling her out of her groove. She wipes her hands down her apron and pulls it out to see a groupchat message from Crystal.

Clown Whore 🤡👅 just got off a client but LMFAO totally saw u staring @ N u aint slick @Gigi Goode

Gigi can’t help but widen her eyes a little and type her reply back a little frantic.

Goode, Gooder, Goodenest Gracious! 🌼 her name starts with N????? Nina? Natalie? Naomi? is Naomi french enough to count as a valid guess?

Clown Whore 🤡👅 LOL u know we aint tellin u its been a week. JUST TALK TO HER U DUMB ASS LESBIAN

Goode, Gooder, Goodenest Gracious! 🌼 :( ya’ll are mean. why are you my friends. Michelle’s for lunch? @Jaida @Crystal

shoulders & attitude (and not much else) 🌵🌵 lol im down

Clown Whore 🤡👅 breaks in 30. come to yall then :))

Gigi takes note of the time and puts her phone down sighing. She loves her friends with all her heart, but they’re also assholes whose favorite hobby is bullying poor Gigi especially when it comes to Gigi’s ability, or lack thereof, to deal with cute girls. Still, she wouldn’t trade the world for them (not that she would ever say that to their faces, she has some pride).

She continues her arrangements, hitting a snag on a particular one that for some reason requested a fairly large centerpiece, “all whites, minimal greenery- romantic but no roses” but at the same time “nothing too funeral-y or wedding-y”. She’s built and torn apart the arrangement around 6 times and is close to ripping her hair out when Jaida materializes in front of her station.

“You good, sis?” she laughs, picking up the order slip to examine herself.

Gigi looks around and realizes her station looks a hot mess, whites and greens strewn haphazardly everywhere. “Yes, you’re looking at my personal funeral. We good to go?”

“Yeah, ‘bout that. Crys texted that she’s gonna take a smoke for a bit and I’m gonna join her, is it alright if you go ahead? We’ll catch up, it’s all on me” Jaida says cheerily, handing Gigi her card.

Gigi raises her eyebrows in suspicion, idly wondering why Crystal didn’t just message their chat, but takes the card anyway. She’s not passing up free lunch. “Sure, the usual for everyone?”

“Yep, see ya in a bit, girl!” Jaida waves brightly, already on her way out the door.

Weird. But Gigi doesn’t think much of it.

The walk over to Michelle’s is short and uneventful, only being about 2 blocks away, but the small local joint is by far their favorite go-to. It’s arguably a diner, complete with the red leather booths and black and white tiled flooring to match, but it’s become a local staple in the district for being so much more than just a diner. They’ve got a wide variety of comfort foods of all types, plus it’s got halal options for Jackie and vegetarian ones for Crystal. Gigi walks in to the sound of the bell above the push glass door and is immediately greeted by not only the rich smells from the kitchen, but the owner Michelle at the counter. A matronly figure with a heart of gold, she’s made sure to know all of the district regulars by name and face and the girls at Harmonize and Wallflower are no exception. It’s a little past lunch rush, lots of people sitting at the booths and the counter but no one in line.

She greets Gigi as she enters and Gigi’s listing off the usuals for everyone, takeout for Widow and Jackie, when a husky voice pipes up from behind her.

“Oh, actually, Jaida said takeout for everyone. And an additional ceaser, s'il vous plaît.”

Gigi whips around, heart leaping out of her chest, and finds N smiling right behind her. Gigi stammers a bit, definitely fumbling for something to say, and tries her best to get her bearings. “Ohmigod, hi! Shit, hi! Gigi, from Wallflower,” she says quickly, nerves evident, “I haven’t met you yet! Oh my god, you’re N-?”

The blonde just laughs politely to cut her off, perhaps to save her from her fumbling. “Nicolette, but please call me Nicky. Crystal sent me over, says her and Jaida can’t make it and to bring everything back?” Nicky smiles wide, and her smile makes Gigi think her heart is stopping a little too many times today.

Gigi crumples a little in realization. Of course Jaida would offer to pay for everything, she wouldn’t bother unless it came alongside personally torturing Gigi for fun. Well, nevertheless, it’s not like Jaida can avoid payback. Gigi asks Michelle to upsize everyone’s drinks but Jaida and Crystal’s and adds an extra side of ice cream to her own. Michelle swipes Jaida’s card, hands Gigi her small cup of ice cream, then lets them know to sit at a booth while they fix up everyone’s orders.

Nicky and Gigi sit at the booth nearest the door, and Gigi’s glad for the cup of ice cream to keep her busy because her brain’s running in circles trying to think of something to say while also subtly trying to finally get a good look at her. As Nicky settles into the seat opposite, turning to lay her purse next to her, Gigi can’t help but eye some design on her arms before it’s covered once more by the long sleeves of her blouse. Her platinum blonde hair’s slicked back into a short length, now she realizes it goes a little past her chin, and her makeup is impeccable, sharp smokey eyes and red lips. She’s even more gorgeous up close, and it does absolutely nothing to settle Gigi’s nerves. Gigi’s hands fidget with her small plastic spoon, and she’s hyper aware of how she’s now looking anywhere but the girl sitting across her. Thankfully, Nicky leads the conversation.

“I am sorry it’s taken us so long to meet, I have been having a little bit of a hard time putting myself out there” she says with a drop to her voice, and Gigi instantly feels guilty.

“No, no it’s my fault! I should’ve gone over, I had the chance I’m just,” Gigi breathes when she realizes she’s sped up again, and Nicky’s looking right at her earnestly, “-pretty bad at meeting new people.” She drops Nicky’s gaze and rubs the back of her neck, staring directly down into her ice cream. She realizes she’s coming on very weirdly, and she feels very hot all of a sudden. Stupid Crystal, stupid Jaida, this is exactly why she can’t be trusted alone with a pretty girl. Either Nicky doesn’t realize or realize exactly, either way Gigi’s glad she doesn’t bring up how awkward Gigi’s acting.

“Well, no matter,” she interrupts Gigi’s thoughts with a smile, “I’m glad to have met you now. I heard you were the one who had done the arrangement Jackie brought me on my first day, thank you, it was quite beautiful.”

Gigi softens. “Oh, it was my pleasure! Again, I’m really sorry I hadn’t come along to meet you sooner.”

Nicky waves her off, “Please, stop apologizing, it’s alright, we were both busy. Let’s move forward now, yeah?” She smiles brightly again, and it eases Gigi’s heart in a way she could not explain, nor does she want to confront any time soon. But for now, this is nice.

Gigi smiles back and opens her mouth to respond, when Nicky’s phone suddenly rings from her purse. Nicky quickly swipes it out to check the screen.

“Oh, one moment, it’s a client, I’m so sorry” she says, standing up and stepping out of the booth. Gigi tells her no worries as Nicky steps out of the diner to take the call.

Gigi uses this opportunity to breathe, at the same time finishing her melting ice cream and checking her own phone. She’s got a string of messages, all from the culprits.

shoulders & attitude (and not much else) 🌵🌵 LOL

Clown Whore 🤡👅 GO GIGI!!!!!!

shoulders & attitude (and not much else) 🌵🌵 USE YOUR WORDS BOO ure killin it!!!

Clown Whore 🤡👅 what did we say about the accent? :))) plus isnt she so nice shes a whole ass sweetheart

shoulders & attitude (and not much else) 🌵🌵 omg ice cream u bitch k we deserve it

Clown Whore 🤡👅 oooo yall look like youre on a date already :))

shoulders & attitude (and not much else) 🌵🌵 wtf who callin? she got a man?

Goode, Gooder, Goodenest Gracious! 🌼 YO WTF FUCK YALL WHAT WAS THAT :((( WARN ME, ASSHOLES? I WASNT READY also are you here?? how do you know???

Clown Whore 🤡👅 michelle’s texting us LMAO

Gigi whips her head up to see Michelle at the counter across the diner, phone in hand, typing away. She meets Gigi’s eyes and sends her a wink, laughing mirthfully.

Goode, Gooder, Goodenest Gracious! 🌼 is my whole life snitches and traitors???

Clown Whore 🤡👅 💖💖

shoulders & attitude (and not much else) 🌵🌵 💛💛💛💛

At this point Michelle comes around to the table and carefully sets down the stacks of takeout containers bundled in two plastic bags, but not without patting Gigi on the back and whispering you got this darling. Gigi just groans in exasperation.

Clearly, everyone has it out for her in this life. But she decides that hey, maybe that’s not so bad. They’re her friends and her friends care and they bully her a little but that’s what friends are for. Care enough to call her out on her stupidity and force her to act. What exactly she’s acting on, she’s not quite sure, but things are certainly happening. And she’s finally met Nicky, who is intimidatingly gorgeous but also kind and nice and she’s happy for that. Sure, she’s extremely attractive, but part of her doesn’t even remember why she was so afraid to talk to her in the first place when her presence now seems to both scare and ease Gigi in a way she really can’t name. And while she may not really understand all that she’s feeling maybe, just maybe, that’s okay too.

Nicky steps back into the diner and turns back to Gigi, eyes bright and smile wide.

“Let’s get back to the shops?” she says cheerily, and sticks out her hand for Gigi to hold.

Gigi takes a deep breath, smiles, and takes it. “Yes, let’s.”

#rpdr fanfiction #gigi goode #nicky doll #gigi x nicky #lesbian au #tattoo artist x florist #cceib series #chaoskatya #s12

[reeree1500]

The Return- Part 9

Disclaimer: Im so sorry for keeping you guys waiting, but Ive been trying to figure out my new schedule and had literally no time to write anything down 😬 This part contains lots of angst and honestly I don't feel like its the best🤣 I want to thank y'all for all the love and support💕☺️And forgive me in advance for this is 100% gonna be utter shit😭🙏🏽 So don't kill me😅

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 10

Taglist: @yanii-the-hippie @oceans-daughter-3 @peaceisadirtyword @laketaj24 @camatsuru @youbloodymadgenius @calum-hoodwinked-me @cutegyrl927 @wuxiesalt @readsalot73 @cindy-exo @amy8220 @affection-rabbit @mel0nch0ly @queenofallthyfandoms @limbo-limbo-limbo @ragnarssonsbitch @supernaturalvikingwhore @ifihadwings128 @paintballkid711 @jenny-the-lover @funmadnessandbadassvikings  @blonddnamedhandz @hallowed-heathen @pinkrockstar19 

- Sorry if I missed any of you💕 Lemme know if you want to be tagged. Also requests are open, and I’ve got a ton of them to do and finish. Hopefully Ill be able to post them soon enough

Warnings: Angst, Violence, bad grammar + spelling.😂

Your POV

“My wife...” At Ivar’s words you had felt as if your heart had been ripped out of your chest, crumpled, and stomped on by him right in front of you. You just looked at the blonde beauty and thought about how perfect she was and how you could have never compared to her. “(Y/n), are you alright? You seem pale and quite unwell.” Freydis says to you with what would seem as genuine concern in her eyes. Your mind was at a loss for words, something that did not happen often to you anymore. You didn't know whether it could've been out fo jealousy or if out of shock and what seemed like a flare of anger rising in you. “Just a little light headed, that's all. Anyways, are you alright if we go up to the castle now? Or are there anymore people on the ship?” You say through gritted teeth and a fake smile on your face. Freydis exchanges a look with Ivar and he then turns to you with a smile on his face nodding. As the three of you turn to walk towards the hill leading to the castle, you noticed how Freydis gushed over Ivar in front of you. Occasionally she would turn and pretend to admire her surroundings and meet your eyes trying to show off. You promised yourself that for the love of your siblings and family that you would go along with the facade and pretend as if you didn't want to kill her every time she clung onto him like that. But it was proving much harder than you had initially thought. “Freydis, I would like a moment to talk to (y/n). You can continue making your way to the castle with a few of my men, just be careful love.” You heard Ivar say to her as his lips grazed hers. 

Why had you been so jealous? You were happily married now to Arthur and had 2 beautiful children by him. As you would not let yourself think otherwise as to who the possibility of who the father could be. Not paying attention to Ivar or his “wife” you kept looking out towards the gardens and the townspeople. Your body is then whisked around rapidly by your so called “brother” and you come face to face for the first time in 4 years. “Why?” “Why what Ivar?” You say rolling your eyes at him trying to avoid this touchy subject. “You know exactly what!” He says pulling you off to the side and out of hearing range of anyone around. “How could you keep my children away from me!” 

Ivar says as his grips tightens on your arms, surely to leave a bruise. Back then you would have cowered with fear at his tone of voice. But now you were a queen and Arthur had made you realize that no one not even himself could ever trample over you again! “First of all, you are not the king here and you DO NOT! Call the shots!” You say gripping his hand and forcing it to unclasp your arm. “Secondly, my children have a father and his name is Arthur Pendragon. The King of this land and I am his queen and I will not have you disrespect him with such blasphemous words leaving your mouth!” You say to him, with as much venom as you could muster laced into your words. His eyes showed shock and admiration in them. Surely in his mind he thought about how much you had changed and how the once scared girl that graced the land of Kattegat was now gone. Ivar knew the answer to his question though. You could not bare to let him in on the fact that you had bared him children, it would have placed everyone you cared for in the danger you had placed so far away from you. Not waiting for him to answer and get his words together you turn around and leave him behind in the dust. Walking away you felt empowered and for the first time like you had the control over him and it felt good.

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Making your way through the halls of the castle you finally reach the hall to see everybody gathered and chatting with each other. Marjorie notices you enter and springs quickly from Arthur’s lap and makes a bee line for your arms. “Mama! You're just in time, Uncle Bjorn is telling us stories of when you were my age. Frankly you were quite boring, but it’s okay you’ve gotten a wee bit more fun!”  She said as she clung around your neck. This child you say as you internally roll your eyes. She could always leave a whole room without words in seconds. But it was a quality that you were quite fond of. Carrying Marjorie in your arms you made your way towards Arthur and sat beside him. Marjorie then jumps from your arms to Arthurs lap and starts to play with the buttons on his jacket. Marjorie adored her father and it was evident to everyone who would look their way. Especially Ivar who sulked and gritted his teeth every time his eyes laid on her playing with Arthur. 

Arthur lived to serve our children, but Marjorie was his mini-me. However, Erik was all mine. At that I call Erik away from the candies I know that he so desperately wants to eat, but that I will not let him. This boy is hyper enough as it is and I cannot handle so much excitement and emotions today. His little eyes turn to me pleading for a small bite of the sweets that are bestowed upon him. However, I am firm in my decision and although disappointed he makes his way to me with a huge smile on his face and his arms outstretched. Holding him in my arms I cannot resist, but spin him around as we both giggle and fall to the floor in a fit of laughter. “You're an exceptional mother (y/n), I always knew you would be.” Bjorn says whilst looking toward me with tears brimming in his eyes. “I feel incredibly proud of you for pushing past all the horrible things that have been placed in front of you and you coming out on top.” At that tears begin to form in mine. “Ok, Ok. No more crying. I feel as if there has been enough of that in our lives to last us the rest of them.” Hvitserk says whilst laughing. At his comment everyone laughs and that is when Sara enters the hall. “Your highness it is time for their majesties’ lessons.” She says whilst bowing her head. At that Erik and Marjorie stand up and rush towards her. They loved Sara and treated her as if she were their older sister. In fact she was Mira’s younger sister who was sent to me by Gisela when she found out about my pregnancy. I could not have asked for a better tutor for my children. Saying my goodbyes to them I turn to walk towards my husband, but come to notice a certain look on a certain bear like man. Bjorn’s eyes hold an astonished look of admiration and adoration. The look of a man who's been taken to heaven and does not wish to come back. 

Arthur taps my knee to grab my attention, but he notices what Ive just witnessed and a smirk is displayed on his face. “It seems that our little Sara has caught your interest, Bjorn?” Arthur says playfully to him. “Yes, it appears to be so. Ive never met such a beautiful woman in my life.” Bjorn says still in what seems to be a trans like state of some kind. “Bjorn, surely you’ve met more beautiful women than a simple tutor and maid, have you not?” Freydis says from Ivar’s side. Her comments made by blood boil, which Arthur noticed and took quick action against. He placed his arms around my shoulders and whispered sweet nothings into my ears. He then lays one of his hands on my lap, to then which I place my hands on his, holding him ever close to us.

The way she caresses his hair and the way she positions herself beside him is bothersome to me. It goes to show that Freydis is a woman that will do anything to keep him, even if that a means worshipping him like a God. Trying to lighten the mood and ease the tension that quickly seems to be building up. Arthur asks about Kattegat and how it has been since we left. What we didn't know was that at this very moment just a few feet away was the person who would bring about sorrow and grief everywhere they went. Especially to me.

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Bjorn’s POV

When Arthur asked about the current state of Kattegat, my hands balled into fists. Not by his question, but because the ruin of Kattegat had come with us to England. “Well, it could be better, but I will not ruin our visit with such an ill subject.” I reply in a tone in which everyone understands that the subject matter at hand should not be one to be discussed. At the moment (y/n) decides to turn the attention upon Ivar and his new wife. It was obvious that she was hurt by it, however knowing my sister she would never admit that to a soul. She was moodier then I could remember her being, but it could just be the fact that people in England are moodier then everyone. “When and how did this come about, and why had we not heard sooner about this union Ivar. Where you hiding your wife from me? Or did you simply want to take us by surprise when you brought your whore to a place where my children reside? Huh!” (Y/n) says while she stands up, rage very much evident in her eyes. 

At that the room became silent and servants who seemed shocked and outright astonished by the fact that (y/n) was behaving this way. Arthur stood up from his throne and pulled her body into his as a way to try to calm her down, but we knew that it would not be so easy. “Control yourself (y/n), please. This is not good for you and you know it. The doctor said you should rest and not become stressed. Please I beg of you, listen to me and stand down.” Arthur whispers into her ear. After what seems like ages (y/n) looks down and Arthur softens his hold on her. A quiet Im sorry leaves her lips and she walks out of the room towards what seems to be her quarters. I would have to check up on her, this was very unsalted behaviour for her and it worried me.

 Arthur clears his throat and asks the servants to shows us to our rooms, but not before asking Ivar to stay behind. “Ivar, please stay. I would like to have a word with you and apologize for my wife’s behaviour towards you both.” As everyone moves Freydis seems to stay in her place by Ivar’s side. Obviously not getting the fact that she was not part of the conversation that was to be had. “Alone.” Arthur says while facing the window and his back to them. Something that I knew bothered Ivar very much...Authority and power which he could do nothing about. 

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Arthur’s POV

“So, what is it that you wanted to speak to me about, besides your wife’s ridiculous outburst?...Your majesty.” Ivar says through gritted teeth. Turning around I keep my face stoic as ever, however all I wanted was to punch this man in the face for all the pain and suffering he had not only caused my wife, but her people as well. I had heard of Ivar’s actions against his people from my spies in Kattegat and from Bjorn himself. I knew that the once respect that I held for this man had gone out the window the moment he started burning everyone who opposed him. “Come, I wish to show you something out on the balcony.” I say to him as I walk without waiting for his reply. I can feel his eyes burning holes into my skull, but I care not for this as I have more pressing matters at hand. 

Stepping out onto the balcony I look over the lands that had been bestowed upon me by my father. “These lands, were given to me by my father, who which in turn got them from his father, and so on. One day when (y/n) and I are gone these lands shall go to Erik or Marjorie... Our children.” In this moment Ivar scoffs and I could see him roll his eyes at me. “Your children? We both know who damn well! Fathered those children Arthur! It wouldn't take much to see the resemblance between us!” He yells at my direction. “I invited you to my home so that my wife would be able to see her family once again away from the dangers of Kattegat! But I now see that it was a mistake to invite you here. Erik and Marjorie are not and will never be yours! And on top of that you come with a “wife” who's sole purpose of your marriage was to get your mind off of my wife! MY WIFE! Whom shall never be yours!” I yell at him as my patience wears thin. Unable to hold back the anger and resentment I feel towards him anymore, I grab him by the collar and push him towards the railing. Grabbing him so that he may not fall, but just enough to try and scare him. 

However, I underestimated him and feel my footing quickly fall from beneath me. Ivar then lunges himself on top of me and begins to throw punches left and right. I dodge and fight back as much as I can, but he is able to get a couple of punches in. Spotting an opportunity I quickly flip us over and start punching him for everything he has done. At this point I see red and fear that there will be nothing to stop me from killing him. Except my wife. “Arthur! Let him go! What are you doing!” She says as she runs towards us. In that moment I forgot about ivar and stared at my wife, but it only took a second for Ivar to kick me and cause me to crash against the railing itself. “Ugh!” Before I could lunge myself at him (y/n) threw herself in front of him. And I stopped dead in my tracks. How could I have been so foolish to think that she could have ever loved me back. To think that we could have actually had something. NO! She will always choose him, she will always choose Ivar. 

Your POV

I couldn't let them go on. I couldn’t let my husband kill the man that I once loved. No matter how much he deserved it, but Arthur didn't understand that. He didn't understand that I had put Ivar behind me and that now all I wanted and all I needed was him. Arthur looked like as if his world had been flipped upside down and like his heart had been ripped out of his chest, by me. Shaking his head he looks down and heads inside. Not before stopping and turning around to face Ivar one last time. “If you ever utter the words that Erik and Marjorie are yours, I will not hesitate to kill you on the spot. Im done showing mercy and being the fool.” And with that he walks inside bloodied and leaving me astonished. “(y/n), I...” “Shut up! Just shut up! How dare you! Did I not warn you that something like this would happen! You need to stop Ivar, Erik and Marjorie are not yours and will never be! Arthur has been the father that they need and deserve. You on the contrary will never be their father, because all you do is bring me pain!” I yell at him through the tears that fall down my face like a cascade. 

“How could I have proven to you that I could be great father, when you didn't even give me a chance! I gave you a way out of the situation you were in! I told you that we could have run away together and lived together as a family away from it all. But you! You decided that I wasn't good enough for you!” He says standing up from the ground cradling his side, obviously showing that Arthur had got in a good punch or two. “I couldnt have and you know it! Floki he...” I begin to say before I stop myself and think about that night. “What! What did he say to you (y/n)! What lies are you gonna spew out about the only man that has ever cared for me my entire life!” He says getting extremely close to me, his eyes showing hints of a side to him that I had never come across but had heard from the gossip and read from the letters Bjorn sent to Arthur. “Your precious Floki threatened me with your life and that of everyone who is close to me, if I didn't leave Kattegat! So yes! Blame me Ivar for being so selfish that I placed your life and the lives of everyone I cared about before my own!” With that I left Ivar standing there in the balcony by himself, just like I had left him that night 4 years ago.

---------------------------

1 month ago...

“What do you need of me, my queen?” Freydis said to Aslaug. “Ivar and his brothers shall be visiting England fairly soon and I will need you to be my eyes and ears into everything that occurs there. I wish to know exactly what (y/n) and her husband have been up to, I hear that their union had been blessed with children. Find out more about them and if you ever get a chance, take this.” Aslaug says as she pull out a vial. “This will ensure your reign as Queen of Kattegat and will finally put an end to that Christian child. I do not care of she's miles away, while she breathes Ivar will never be yours. And he will never grow to be the man that I wish him to be.” Aslaug says with a cold heart and an even colder face. “But, she's of no danger to me. Ivar is mine and he always will be, its been fated by the gods themselves.” Freydis says giving the vile back. In that moment Floki comes out from the shadows. “I have lost all whom I care about, because of (y/n). Ragnar, Bjorn, Ivar and Helga have all turned their back on me because of her. I was forced to kill my own wife because of what she did in order to save this child. And you too will lose, if you do not comply with our demands.” He says whilst placing the vial back into Freydis’ palm. “You must do this if not for us, then for Ivar and all of the gods.” 

“I will...”

#vikings #vikings history channel #vikings fanfiction #vikings fandom #vikings ivar #ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar x reader #bjorn #Bjorn Ironside #bjorn lothbrok #bjorn x reader #Hvitserk #vikings hvitserk #hvitserk x reader #hvitty #Ragnar Lothbrok #ragnar x lagertha #ragnarsdottir #requests are open #arthur #king arthur #arthur x reader #lagertha #arthur pendragon

[eliniei]

Not As It Seems Part V - Emet-Selch x WoL

Summary: After falling asleep in a meeting with the Scions, the Warrior of Light is woken by Emet-Selch, who carries her back to her room as she bears her entire soul to him.

Word Count: 1982

Masterlist: Coming Shortly Ao3: here

Part I: here Part II: here Part III: here Part IV: here

Warnings: This is a sad one-shot. It deals with sadness, loneliness, truthfulness and the fear of the future. It is an amazing companion piece to the previous one I posted. It was an incredibly hard write for me, but now that it’s done, I am rather fond of it. I hope you enjoy it, too.

As always, feel free to send me Emet/WoL requests!

----

I was at a meeting with the Scions and the Exarch until late in the night. I’m unsure when I let the darkness cradle me into sleep, but it must have been quite a long time. A familiar voice filtered into my mind, bringing me back to consciousness. 

“What are you still doing here?” 

I picked my head up from my folded arms, mind still in a sleepy haze. 

Where was I? I couldn’t remember, but I could see Emet-Selch standing in the doorway, arms loosely crossed in front of him, watching me with that ever-inscrutable amber gaze that he reserved for the daytime, in front of people, especially my constant companions. 

Speaking of-

Right, we were having a meeting. Why hadn’t they woken me up once they were finished?

“Aren’t you going to answer me?”

I stretched my arms out and dropped my forehead back on to the surface of the table. The edge of the wood dug into my skin. 

“I suppose I fell asleep during the meeting.”

I heard his footsteps approach me. I felt the soft material of his gloves touch the back of my neck as he pulled the majority of my hair to one shoulder. He leaned over me.

“That exhausted, hm?” I raised my shoulders in a shrug. I could feel a yawn coming on. “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to carry you back to the room myself, then.” I tilted my head, just enough so I could see him out of the corner of my eyes. 

“What? But-”

He was already, moving, however, sliding his hands under my knees, across my back, and easily lifted me from the chair I was sitting in. 

I didn’t bother arguing- I knew he wouldn’t listen, anyway. Some days I felt he’d do anything just to have me in his arms- to touch me, connect with me, especially after his recent spat with jealousy. 

I enjoyed it too, of course. The feel of his hands and his body against me, my skin, was unlike anything I’d ever had to myself before. I would continue letting myself revel in it until the inevitable happens and I would have to face him in combat. 

My stomach clenched, thinking about what the future held. I didn’t like to think about it. I wanted to deny it with my entire being. Being in his arms lessened the pain- if only until he pulled away each morning. 

He claimed he wanted to find another way and I believed him- but I could feel the end looming in front of us, the outcome almost depressingly obvious. We were not going to find another way. He said I would be strong enough to hold the light- promised me, even. We’re...still far away from our objective but I can already tell. I hope I am...but I very much doubt I will be.  

I think he realizes it too. We’re a lot alike, in the grand scheme of things. We turn to each other for that much sought-after comfort. Sometimes I catch the sadness in his eyes when he looks at me, the catch in his breath when he kisses me. 

Is he also wondering when the last of these glorious nights will be?

If it came to it- I don’t know what I’d do. Of course, I would have to fight him. The light inside of me was too strong and he was tempered to the god that was opposite mine. 

I promised I was his- and I would always remain so, whether I was forced to send him to oblivion or if he sent me.

Hells, maybe we could go together.

It was all terribly exhausting- most days I felt as if I had no energy left for anything, as if I didn’t want to do anything except let him gather me in his arms and hold me for eternity. He was the only happiness left in my life. Maybe he was the only happiness I’d ever truly had. 

I could never be honest like this with my companions. I could never tell them about this time I shared with an Ascian. I could never tell them how I wished I was no longer a hero- the hero- and could spend the rest of my existence in the arms of the man who seemed to know my soul better than I knew myself. 

They just wouldn’t understand. 

My head lolled against him as he carried me towards the Pendants, the Crystarium all but deserted at this time of night. I sighed, the weight of everything overwhelming me- crushing me- in my near twilight-state, when I couldn’t force the thoughts away even if I wanted to.

I tilted my neck up to look at him with half-open eyes, refusing to lift my head entirely, to find him watching me again. His brows were knitted together and I thought, maybe, I caught concern in that amber gaze that I’d grown so fond of. He clenched his jaw when our eyes met and looked away. 

“Your thoughts are heavy tonight.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. It wasn’t a question.

“They’ve worked you too hard.”

“I’m the Warrior of Light, aren’t I?” I asked with a huff. “It’s what I’m supposed to do.”

He didn’t respond. I could feel him press me up against the door as he felt for the door handle to my room- our room. Once he had it turned, he pushed it open with his foot. 

“I thought maybe I’d earned my rest this time,” I continued. “At least for a small while.”

He had been painfully honest with me those few nights ago when he all but spilled his heart to me. I owed him that same honesty, didn’t I?

Once the door was closed behind us and we were finally alone, he set me upright in one of the chairs at my dining table. I let myself fall against the hardwood at my back, my arms lying limply in my lap. He bent down for a moment to remove my shoes, but when I started speaking again, he stood straight, arms crossed over his chest once again, listening. 

“I’m so tired,” I confessed. “Of the fighting, the traveling. I’m tired of being put up on a pedestal and worshipped as if I were a God.” I could feel tears welling in my eyes, a strangling in my throat. “I’m sick of people revering me as the Warrior of Light, the savior of the realm. I want to be loved for who I am, not for the deeds I’ve done. Aside from this small slice of time I’ve spent with you, I am very much alone in this world, as is the life of a savior.”

Emet-Selch loomed over me, but I had not the energy to even tilt my head up and look at him. My body started trembling and I tried to hold the sob back as hard as I could. 

“You don’t enjoy being the hero at the end of the day?”

I looked down at my hands, examining them. Calluses built over years of training, of fighting the good fight. 

“Playing the hero is tiresome.” I closed my eyes. “Before it-it wasn’t so hard. Risking my life to save the people didn’t seem such an awful thing, and really, compared to now, can I really call it as such?” I opened my eyes again, letting my head dip. “At first I did it because it was right.”

“And now?”

“I feel only a tool that can be called upon when danger is afoot.”

“Do you not think it right anymore?”

I bit my lip as his question. I could feel myself starting to crumble in front of him. All of my doings- right and wrong- bearing down on me, suffocating me. 

“I’ve-” But, I couldn’t finish. I wanted to tell him- to confess to him- that I’ve done horrible things too, in the name of Hydaelyn, in the name of good. To declare that I wasn’t anymore a hero than he. To admit that I knew this god I was tempered to wasn’t any better than his. That I wished we could go against them, hand in hand, and no matter what the outcome, we would be together.

But in the end, the battle of light and dark would be waged and only one of us would be victorious. 

The feeling of knowing this was excruciating. The feeling of knowing that the one person your soul is tethered to unto the end of time would turn out to be your enemy, even if it was unwanted on both sides.  

The guilt was eating at me- gnawing me, chewing me up and spitting me out, leaving whatever husk was left to pick up the pieces of myself- by myself- and return to my companions as if nothing had changed. 

I think he knew, even though I hadn’t told him. He knew, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

Damn the gods. Damn them and their idiotic brawls, forcing the innocents to take part in their wars. To fight and kill and die for them.

A fury rose up in me. A madness I could not keep away, but in a body that could no longer handle the pain.

The tears that had been building up the entire time started falling, freely. I let out a shaky breath as they did. Emet-Selch knelt down in front of me. I watched him through blurry vision, his soft expression of sadness pulling a shuddering sob out of me. 

He looked desperate to find a way to help me.

“I know,” he said, looking me in the eyes. He reached out and brushed my hair out of my eyes, wiped the water from my face. “I know all too well how you feel, my warrior.”

“I just want this to be over. I don’t want to fight anymore.” He nodded his understanding, a sorrowful smile on his lips.

“I know you do.”

He took my hands and pulled me onto the cold tile floor with him, winding his arms around me, flooding me with the warmth of his embrace. I wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever. To drift away in the darkness and comfort of his magic. To go away with him and live out of lives in peace.

But knowing who we both were- it would never happen until we were given true freedom, something our masters would never deign to give us.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and he let me get it out- everything I had been holding back these long months- years, even. My muffled cries against his chest made him hold me all the tighter, clutching me as if I was the only thing in universe world worth saving.

I know not how long we sat like that, but when my tears had dried, leaving me empty, and my shaking had stopped, he lifted me once again and carried me to bed. 

I felt utterly raw- open to him in a way I’d never opened to anyone, even myself. 

The tenderness in the way he looked at me, in the way he handled me...he knew it, too. 

Quietly, my Ascian slipped out of his coat and his shirt, uncaring enough to hang them up, as he usually did, and laid down next to me.  

He gathered me up again, and I could not hold back my sigh of relief at the feeling. He caught my lips in an incredibly gentle kiss. I closed my eyes, savoring his taste, his smell...his everything. 

Please, let this last forever.

He pressed his forehead against mine. 

We both knew, I think, in this moment, though. 

“Let us enjoy this while it lasts,” he whispered to me, eyes closed. “My Persephone.”

#emet-selch #emetselch #emet selch #emet-selch x warrior of light #emet selch x warrior of light #Final Fantasy XIV #Final Fantasy 14 #final fantasy xiv shadowbringers #final fantasy 14 fanfiction #final fantasy xiv fanfiction #FFXIV #ffxiv fanficton #warrior of light #warrior of darkness #shadowbringers #ffxiv shadowbringers #shadowbringers spoilers #5.0 spoilers

[thenarcolepticone]

The Problem We All Live With

By TheNarcolepticOne

Day 3: Festival ( @aphfallfandomweek )

(AO3)

Summary: It’s almost the end of the Summer semester into the Fall, and every time Ivan minds his own business, there’s always someone to ruin his quiet hours and relaxation time. Always. Hogwarts!AU. RusAme. 

Pairings: RusAme

Warnings: None

A/N: So since I’ve gotten my life back together after about a whole year of financial planning, I’ve finally just decided to post this fic that is LONG OVERDUE by literally 365 days. I know it’s been a while since I’ve even written anything really for anyone but I only just hope that you’ll forgive me, @trueshun , for being so late to the exchange for the @rusame-secret-santa-2017. I had a lot of money problems during the first half of this year, and I only hope that posting this can be my apology to you for such an incredibly long wait. I want this to be a kick off a start to the fall by being able to finally get everything I’ve owed to others done, starting with you. 

##

Hogwarts around the semester break usually indicated a significantly reduced amount of students and faculty; a perfect time, in Ivan’s opinion. The count had only become noticeable only a week before the end of the semester and Ivan had honestly preferred the rest of the silence that followed that trend instead of having to deal with idle chatter.

He was not a talkative guy, and he was thankful for the fact that his somewhat foreboding appearance made him a less than likely target for most conversation starters. It stemmed from the fact that in between being the awkward Russian exchange student and English as his second language, he’s also a bit on the shy side. Socially, might he add. But academically? Ivan figured he could make Arthur Kirkland shut his annoyingly ‘smart aleck’ sounding voice and make him sit his ass down with a 10 minute lecture on runes. Ivan was very forward when it came to defending his knowledge on what he studies, given the chance and motivation. (Ivan liked to think toleration of the stupid population as ‘conserving mental energy’)

“What the heck are you doing?”

The stray voice caught Ivan entirely off guard, and he overshot the stitch he had planned, with the needle going straight into his thumb in a single motion.

Ivan cursed loudly, immediately pulling the sharp object out of his thumb and putting the wound right into his mouth to try and prevent it from dripping onto his clothes. It was a stupid mistake, of course, and not that being pricked by a needle was the worst thing to happen in the middle of knitting.

But what sets the icing on the cake for today is the gaze Ivan meets: the illustrious Alfred F. Jones of Slytherin peering down at him from halfway down the stairs and not at all really caring too much about the suddenness of his entrance.

Ivan seethed privately when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching him. Ivan doesn’t look up again when he looks down, hoping perhaps he could instead just scare Alfred off with pure, obvious irritation. He takes the thumb out of his mouth, wiping it absently on his robes before going back to continuing the rest of what he started. It’s only about the length of an arm and a half, but Ivan had planned to finish the rest of the yarn by the end of the year. It’s supposed to be winter, but there’s still leaves present all over the ground. A new scarf was in order.

“I’m talkin’ to you, buddy.”

Well, that plan quickly didn’t work. Alfred sat next to him without much mind to anything else around him other than what Ivan was holding. He seemed to just keep his gaze on Ivan, with that aura of his that reeked of extreme obnoxiousness.

How Alfred managed to appear alone the way he is, without his posse, is a sight that is rare to catch and unnatural to witness. Ivan sighed.

“What do you want, Jones? I would rather not have to deal with any tricks you plan to pull.”

Alfred immediately put his hands up, as if he was trying to show that he had nothing up his sleeves.

“Hey man, listen. I’m not here to play any tricks, okay? M’just dyin’ to start a conversation with literally anyone here.” Alfred crossed his arms. “Place is empty. And the only person other than that loopy cat dude is you.”

Ivan raises an eyebrow. Hercules was not a bad person to talk to, in Ivan’s opinion anyway. Ivan was a lot worse with conversations.

“I will take that as a compliment? But even still, I would not rather be the speaking partner of someone who sees me as a convenience.”

“Ouch,” Alfred winced. “Given, that’s kinda half true. But can’t it kill for you to open up once and awhile?”

The two were different. At least, in Ivan’s eyes. For instance, it was entirely normal to catch Ivan alone in the corridors or working by himself in the library or sitting in the Grand Hall eating his meals. But Alfred is his opposite in every aspect; Alfred was welcoming and approachable with a grand smile on his face that was infectious. Meanwhile, Ivan was timid and reserved. Alfred was the Slytherin house Seeker while Ivan was well known for his exceptional grades in all of his classes (particularly in herbology).

If the two of them were ever caught together in any context, it would bring to mind the infamous first year rumor, where in which, it was discussed that Ivan being placed in Hufflepuff and Alfred being placed in Slytherin was the result of a botched prediction from the Sorting Hat.

Ivan came off as brooding often times, which was a Slytherin trait, but it didn’t quite mean that he was always with the intention of wanting to intimidate everyone (though, Ivan admitted, this did come in handy on multiple occasions). And Alfred being the charismatic people’s spokesman wasn’t characteristic of someone who would fit under the stereotypical ‘Slytherin’ student. But the two were similar in that way, Ivan supposed. Outcasts of their own houses.

Alfred’s voice nudged him out of his thoughts.

“So. I asked what you were doing. Looks like you’re making something.”

Ivan gave a big sigh. He finally relented to this conversation.

“A scarf. My old one is falling apart.”

“Huh,” Alfred looked at the yarn. “You’re knitting it?”

“Yes. You are also sitting on the string.”

“Oh sorry.”

Alfred stood up briefly to correct himself, just as Ivan took the opportunity to just continue working on his scarf. He’s started the yellow again after finishing the black. And Alfred just seems to be engrossed into the movements of the needles, quietly watching as he adjusted his glasses. Another rare moment that Ivan counts.

“This is kinda long wait for just making one scarf,” says Alfred after a while, still watching. Ivan didn’t not stop. And Alfred didn’t shut up either.

“Magic is faster. I don’t really see why you’d want to continue working on it with the way you’re doing it. I can get why a muggle would need to be able to knit like this, but you’re a wizard.”

Ivan stopped and met Alfred’s wide, sky blue gaze. It’s not a phrase meant to insult, it seemed. But Ivan turned to see his expression now; it was a phrase meant to stem out of Alfred’s own genuine curiosity. Tactless. But honest.

Ivan exhaled slowly. “I am a half-blood. And just because I am half does not mean that I necessarily do this because my mother is a muggle.”

“... then why do you do it then?” Alfred pressed. He scooted closer. “If that’s not the reason?”

Ivan feels like he’s being choked by the questions. They’re ignorant ones. And Ivan doesn’t know if he wants to hold in the rest of his colorful vocabulary or just continue on with this passive stigma. He felt his heart pound, and his frown deepen. Ivan opened his mouth to try and speak before immediately stopping.

Then again, Ivan realized. Another valid reason for this lack of knowledge might come from parents who could be pure-blood conformists. Not that Ivan like assumptions. But Ivan didn’t believe that Alfred could have bad intentions for asking, despite being that blunt with his comment.

“It is...well,” Ivan cleared his throat, trying to think of the best way to formulate it. “Magic is faster. But sometimes, when you complete tasks very quickly, you do not see the… true magic behind it.”

Alfred snorted. “It’s not magic though.”

“No. Not that kind of ‘magic’,” Ivan explained, glancing back at his work. “I mean, the magic of work. When you feel the calluses on your fingers. The strain of having to make sure everything is perfect from beginning to end for a week. And the feeling of… completion when you finish. I do not think your wand can make you feel the same way.”

Alfred furrowed his brows. “I still don’t get it.”

“I would not expect you to. You are not the kind of person with patience.”

“True that. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t wanna get it.”

To this, Ivan to looked at him. Alfred only shrugged

“So why are you still here during the semester break? Because if you are trying to sympathize with me, it is not working.”

“Nah,” Alfred laughed. “I don’t got time for that. I’m only here because my parents don’t normally have the free time. We don’t hang on my sem breaks, and not even in the summer. They’re always workin’ hard. The ‘don’t come home for the holidays’ kinda.”

“Oh,” Ivan frowns. “I am sorry.”

“Hey, just cause I got time for your sympathy doesn’t mean that I’m taking it.” Alfred huffed as he rolls his eyes. “Why are you here? Family afraid of you or somethin’?”

Ivan feels his heart clench at that, and he almost drops the half completed scarf as he glares at Alfred. Alfred winced when he sees Ivan’s expression.

“Too far?”

“You should leave.”

“Well, I mean I would but,”

“You should leave.”

“Iv,” Alfred insisted again. Ivan is fed up at this point, but he has no energy to continue asking Alfred. Ivan instead begins to pack his things, regretting that he should have just stayed in the Hufflepuff common room instead of the library.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Alfred said hastily, standing up with Ivan. “I-I didn’t mean to be like that. I’m an idiot sometimes. But I’m just really...I’m just curious.” God, Ivan wasn’t sure if Alfred’s tone was genuine or that he had mastered the art of vocal genuineness. “You’re always by yourself when you’re not around your sisters. I’m just…well.”

“Your point?” Ivan snapped.

“Don’t you get lonely?” Alfred prodded. “You know? I… I’m not sure how you could be okay with that, I mean. You’re just always by yourself. And even when people try to talk to you, you don’t want to be around them. I just don’t get it.”

Ivan raises an eyebrow. “That’s two things you do not get.”

“Shut up. You know what I mean. I just wanna be friends is all. You’re pretty cool, according to Toris. I wanted to see that myself.”

Compliments were the last thing he expected from Alfred. But Ivan just exhaled loudly through his nose instead.

“Hogsmeade has a mini festival today,” Alfred said, trying to convince him. Which wasn’t working really, but Ivan couldn’t help but now become curious himself.

“And why bring me?”

“Dunno,” Alfred said with a grin. “Maybe it’s because you’re running out of yarn.”

Ivan looked back at his stash. And in fact, Alfred was right. He hated Alfred being right.

“Fine then,” Ivan sighed. “I’ll come with you. But you owe me for making me prick my finger.”

“Okay, yeah. Maybe I spooked you enough,” He offered a hand to him, smiling again. “But I mean. I just want to spend some time at least. I wanna know more about the guy who was supposed to be a future Slytherin.”

Ivan smiled wryly at that. “And I would like to know more about the Hufflepuff reject.”

“Okay, rude.” Alfred laughed. “But whatever. I’ll meet you at 4:00pm in the Grand Hall.”

And as Alfred headed for the stairs (he noticed the boy skipping childishly like he had asked his crush out on a date), Ivan thought to himself to start buying more yarn in green.

#my fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #hetalia #rusame #rusame-secret-santa-2017

[not-close-to-straight]

Black Panther Review!

SO For the first time since my surgery I put my contacts in and did my hair and my makeup and wore Real Clothes instead of yoga pants to get out and FINALLY see Black Panther and it was totally worth how many times I had to re do my eyeliner (four, because I suck at make up and have worn it a grand total of ten times in my life) AND it was totally worth the freezing cold theater and even though I had a massive migraine, I refused to let it bug me. 

So here we go. A list of everything I loved about the characters, favorite lines, maybe a little of my thoughts on the scenes. 

Heads up for spoilers below the cut!

First of all, just a heads up, every person in the movie was beautiful. Every single one of them. My poor worthless pansexual heart was DYING over it all. 

(Oh also, very quickly-- there was a new Coke ad before the movie where they very clearly mentioned Non Binary people (them) and LGBT (lesbians) in their montage of people who Coke was for and it was honestly lovely.)

The movie takes place a WEEK after T’Chaka dies in Vienne in CACW, so literally just a day or two after Tony is left in Siberia to die and it just brought up all these Post-CACW feels for me and also like... Tchalla you poor thing, this has been a hell of a week for you, omg. 

Chadwick Boseman/T Challa opened his mouth to speak and I almost melted through the floor. His accent is gorgeous and the words are so smooth its almost a little difficult to understand but so so beautiful. 

The way T’Challa looks at Nakia with these amazing puppy dog eyes. He loves her so much, looks at her as if she is his whole world and even though he asks her to stay with him, he respects her enough to not push the issue when she says there is other things she needs/wants to do. 

The Queen Mother! Angela Basset in all her glory! I love her and her endless beauty, may she reign forever. 

SHURI! You guys SHURI was the cutest fucking thing Ive ever seen in my life! Everything about her was equal parts bratty little sister making sure her newly crowned brother doesnt get cocky, and loyal Wakandan determined to use every bit of her genius to save her country and I love her?!

Also MORE GROSS to you guys who want to ship her with anyone. She is just so obviously a child in this. Yes, a teenager, but still a child, right down to the pranks she pulls and the way she dresses (minus her ceremonial clothing which was pretty enough to make me need some of my own) she is just a baby, stop trying to over sexualize her and ship her with older men. (or anyone for that matter. Let her be sixteen and giggly and adorable for as long as she can be). 

OKOYE. Where do I even start with this woman? First of all, she was bald (as were the rest of the dora milaje) and this is sort of a big thing for black women. Because there is a whole toxic idea of black women not being able to grow hair, or being bald as if its a bad thing, and I LOVE so much the scene in Korea where they are in disguise and she has to wear a wig and says “This is a DISGRACE” because for her to have to cover her head, her tattoos that show her culture and her status is an insult to her very person, and I love that she is angry about it. That to fit in to a white mans world, to be acceptable, she must change/cover up something fundamental to her identity, and she is ANGRY about it and I love it. 

I also love that she was allowed to be angry. Black people in general are already seen as “angry”, as the aggressors, and women are taught to hide it away as if its shameful to feel anything in the extreme, but ESPECIALLY anger because then we are just “another bitter black woman” and it is so important that she and the others are allowed to be ANGRY, visibly and audibly angry at what happens (for example, when one of their own dies.). Its raw and honest, and in its honesty, it is beautiful. 

I need me a red dress like hers just so I can feel like 1/10th of a BAMF as she is. 

“If he touches you again, i will impale him on that table” 

“Does she speak English”

“When she wants to” 

I loved everything about that interaction between Okoye and Ross. Very reminiscent of the moment between Okoya and Natasha “Move, or I will move you” and in both scene T Challa is sort of laughing over it because he knows Okoye is about two seconds from fucking someone up. Hilarious. 

Klaw! What an odd Villain, because I felt like he wasnt really a villain. He was just sort of... the guy that was always around the bad guys, and then ultimately nothing more than a tool to be used for Killmongers vengeance. His sonic hand was a nice nod to the comic character who is just solid sound and emits it through his hand. And he was just amazingly obnoxiously AMERICAN and I both loved and hated him for that. 

Nakia. How I love her. Not only is she entirely her own person, doing what she feels is right, but she is fucking FIERCE and gorgeous and smart and is not about to give up what she wants/needs because T Challa is in love with her. In fact, I love very much that the T Challa/Nakia love story wasnt even... a story. It wasnt even a driving force of the movie. She didnt have to get hurt to inspire him to greatness. She didnt have to break his heart to give him something to fix, really she didnt even go searching for a way to save him when he went over the falls, she went looking for the person that could save their country. Their love story was something quiet, something in the background, because a love story is NOT necessary to keep a movie going (do you hear that, oh pushers of the awkward heterosexual relationship to fill the down moments? not necessary). 

HOWEVER, she absolutely was his rock, who he turned to in his moments of need. He crossed country borders and potentially could have ruined her mission (which was reckless and fairly selfish) because he needed her there when he was crowned King, and she wanted to be there for him. She was the only person he told about his uncle’s death and the truth about Erik, and she was the one to help his mother and sister escape because they are just as much her family as his. 

But back to Nakia-- I think one of my favorite scenes is when they go to Korea and she speaks the language so well, laughs over the trouble she gets into, and very much makes it clear to T Challa AGAIN that she has her own life that has nothing to do with him. Holla for Strong Females. 

How much did I love the Queen Mothers hair being blonde/white underneath her beautiful head-dress. Lovely lovely lovely. 

M’Baku. I have mixed feelings about his character. I very much appreciated Marvel NOT using his “man-ape” persona from the comics because hello, that is Racist As Fuck. Instead they made him lord over a people who used the gorilla as a symbol just as other tribes used the rhino/the panther etc. He was all sorts of big and beautiful and the challenge scene at the waterfall was just, brutal and incredible and PRIMAL and honestly there isnt much better than seeing two men (or women) really battle it out with just their strength. Of course the landscape and backdrop was incredible, but the fight scene was just INCREDIBLE. The way MBaku waited until the last minute to yield, the way T Challa BEGGED him to yield. I love it all. 

I thought it was very interesting when Nakia came to him with the heart shaped herb, he didnt accept it. As someone who had challenged T Challa for the throne, I expected him to at least consider it, but it was obvious in his face that he was both honored, and then humbled, and yet still turned it down because he knows T Challa needed it more. 

And yet when T Challa asked him for an army, for help, MBaku turned him down, said that this was the first king in CENTURIES to visit him. CENTURIES. These people had been living in the mountains, cut off from the rest of Wakanda and the other kings hadnt even visited them. No wonder the man is bitter. BUT NOT BITTER ENOUGH TO TURN THE QUEEN MOTHER AWAY. He still promised that she would be safe, no ham would come to her. I love that so much. 

He did not just forgive centuries of being ignored because they need help, but he wasnt willing to completely turn his back either. I thought it was a realistic depiction that kept him very human, versus the usual “no i wont help at all because our ancestors battled” or even the “i have had a sudden change of heart and now will completely help you even if it means giving up my life for you, who I suddenly support.” 

Also, the way he snorted and giggled over his vegetarian joke??? HE SNORTED AND GIGGLED and no one else laughed. Just his big ass on his throne cracking up and everyone else was like uhhhh....

Martin Freeman as Everett Ross. I love that they let his character be a smaller than average, soft spoken, older white man. No one overly intimidating, no one that seems to inspire fear and yet, when they are attacked by Killmonger when he rescues Klaw, Ross THROWS himself on Nakia (who could probably protect herself) and takes a bullet in the spine for her. That bravery, that instinctual “cover the women and children” and how quickly he reacts speaks to more of his character than anything else. 

Also, the end where he “flies” the ship to stop the weapons from being shipped out and Shuri tells him “you are a great pilot AND HE IS A FUCKING GREAT PILOT he wants so badly to save them, and I love that he just doesnt give up. Like, he realizes that how they healed him was damn near impossible, so he will do the impossible to stop the worst from happening. I love it. (Also I just love Martin Freeman)

“Dont scare me like that, colonizer.” 

“My Names Ross.”

“I know.” 

^^^^I laughed so hard my friend frowned at me and I shoved her and said, “quit scowling colonizer” and then laughed harder. She did not think it was funny. 

ERIK KILLMONGER. First of all, the scene where we meet him. Come on. He looks like such a goddamn fuck boy I almost wanted to smack him. Or maybe fuck him. I cant decide lol. I am in love with him though. 

Growing up where I did, I saw so much anger in the black youth, especially the young men, and for that reason it was so hard to see him as a villain. He is just another abandoned black boy in a forgotten neighborhood, who is angry at the system. And yet he is also brilliant and talented and DRIVEN and he pulled himself up out of the situation he was thrown in and now is determined to change everyone elses situation. He talks of how where he is from, the black people who start the revolutions dont have the weapons they need to protect themselves/to ready themselves and its just... its so true in this very painful way, especially now, recently, and I just hurt for him. 

The way he scarred himself, one for every kill so he could work his way up to challenging for the throne. It is horrifying to think of him marking himself after every kill, all around the world because every body was a step closer to his goal. 

I could talk forever about his character, because I think it was a very accurate, interesting look into the truth underneath the “angry black man” that society paints these young men as. 

I wont talk forever though, because holy shit Im actually talking forever lol, but I WILL say, that the differences between Erik and T Challa, from the speech patterns to the way they walked (cocky versus confident) to the way they dressed and talked/treated the women (I would throw a pan at Killmonger if he talked to me like he talked to them lol). it was just an incredible contrast between one who was given EVERYTHING and someone who had to take everything they wanted just to have a SHOT at anything in the world. The difference between rich and poor and the lines that it draws and the different worlds it creates whether we realize it or not. 

The only person I dont want to spend alot of time on is W’Kabi. I have mixed feelings to his joining with Killmonger, but I realize he was driven by vengeance and that can be a poisonous thing. 

HOWEVER, I thought he had one of the most beautiful scenes in the move. Him and Okoye are in love, and yet when it comes to them ready to fight each other, he asks her, “would you fight me, my love” and she says,. “for wakanda i would” (paraphrasing) and HE is the one to put his weapon down. He is the one to sacrifice his vengeance for love. Not the woman. She did not change. She stood strong in what she believed to be right, and he loved her enough to give up what he wanted. 

I love so much that this movie allowed her and other women to be the strong ones, driving the men to make the right choice. 

I will stop rambling now lol 

End Thoughts--- This movie is so important right now, such a wonderful thing for our young people to see-- Strong black characters, who go that way without a history of drugs or jail or anything like that. Strong black women who are beautiful (stunningly so) even without wigs/straightened hair/lighter skin, and Strong black men who are not any less strong for loving the women in their lives and being humbled enough by past mistakes to try and change. 

My favorite line is easily the very last one, where the young black boy asks T Challa-- who are you?

Every white child has had the chance to ask their hero-- batman, superman, spiderman, wonder woman etc etc etc-- who they are. Who is this hero that has saved my life and given me hope and is going to change this seemingly hopeless situation? 

But seeing a little black boy asking the same question-- maybe I read too much into it, but it really struck a cord with me. 

OH and the last scene. 

I will be the first to admit, I was like... foaming at the mouth to see Bucky in Infinity War, with his new arm and a new gun and like YASSSSSS BABY FUCK THEM BOYS UP LET ME SEE YOU KILL SOMEONE. 

But like?? Stepping from a hut looking like Jesus?? Long hair?? Like god Marvel, please just let my baby stay by the lake and meditate with his half pony tail and man bun. PLEASE just let him play with the children who call him White Wolf. PLEASE just let him light scented candles and have the women braid his hair and when Steve comes looking for him, just let him say no I have found inner peace here in my little hut by the water??? 

I JUST WANT HIM TO BE PEACEFUL?!

Alright, thats it. Sorry for the long ass ramble, this literally isnt half of what I wanted to say. Feel free to hit up my ask box about anything black panther related lol 

#black panther #wakanda forever #t'challa #erik killmonger #fan girl fainting

[otterplusharchive]

sorry again for taking so long to answer this, mp100 and ghibli films are genuinely the most important and influental pieces of media in my life so ive wanted to take a long time to think about this. im going to be answering based on how the films feel compared to characters general vibes/characteristics along with which films i think characters would enjoy because i adore the idea of the gang having movie nights and watching ghibli movies. this ended up being pretty long so im putting it under a read more!!

Im starting out with Ritsu because ive got a kikis delivery service with him as kiki. ive made another post a while back about how i can see similarities between the two characters, both ritsu and kiki struggle with finding and expressing themselves truthfully and being able to feel free along with gaining control of their psychic/witch powers. Kiki has a hard time making friends and she seems to also struggle with her view of herself and what/who she wants to be, which really reminds me of Ritsu being compared to his brother and being pinned down into the role of a perfect straight A student. Both kiki and ritsus stories are about believing in and discovering themselves. Aside from what film reminds me of Ritsu, i like the idea of him being a sap at heart and so i think hed enjoy a film like howls moving castle where theres a sappy romance but also adventure and a solid plot.

For Mob im reminded of princess monoke… ashitakas curse that he tries to contain throughout the course of the movie reminds me a lot of ???% and Mobs overall repression of both his emotions and powers. Monoke also reminds me of Mob because in the end its a film that has a hopeful feeling to it.. even after the forest spirit is beheaded the earth blooms and the previously barren mountain that was misused by the humans for war and pain experiences a rebirth. Mob is a character who has gone through so much pain and yet he still believes in the good of people and is a hopeful person in general. Ashitaka says at one point in the movie something along the lines of “how much more killing and hatred will happen before youre satisified” which is a sentiment that really reminds me of mob, who ultimately does not want to hurt others or resort to violence although sometimes the situation forces his hand. Aside from that!! Mob likes action movies, and because of that i think hed enjoy both monoke AND castle in the sky, which is a very swash buckling fun action movie that still has the message of love and peace that i think mob would resonate with.   For Shou im pretty torn. hes a character that has a lot going on with him, he feels that he has to be strong and brave and to both take down his father and fix claws mistakes even though hes still just a kid and shouldnt have to deal with that responsibility. he hasnt gotten much of a chance to really be a kid from what weve seen. hes bold and arguably impulsive/adventurous, and i still think that ONE should have developed him as a character more and given him more of a character arc outside of the claw/world domination arc. Because of all this im really having a hard time deciding between castle in the sky and tales from earthsea. to me castle in the sky seems like the kind of story that shou might draw up into a comic and the dola gangs overall dynamics and shenanagins remind me of shou a lot. however tales from earthsea deals with a young prince who is fleeing from both his homeland and also himself. hes just stabbed his father, the king, and is on the run, constantly vigilant and also a skilled fighter.  hes tricked plenty of times in this film and yet there are also people who are trying to help him and live alongside him. part of both tales from earthsea and castle in the sky is about realizing that all life including your own has value and that the world is driven by and founded on love. tales from earthsea is a much darker film but the storyline with the protagonists father and struggle to simply be himself instead of fighting reminds me of shou. So yeah those both remind me of him, and as far as films hed watch i think hed enjoy the cat returns!! 

Im the first one to acknowledge that i am by no means an expert on terus character, and just like all of these i want to encourage anyone to add their own thoughts on what ghibli films they think match up to each character! but anyway. When i started writing this the first film that popped into my mind for Teru was howls moving castle. I could very easily point to both howl and teru having huge reactions to their hair being ruined and go on my merry way but i want to go a lot deeper than that. Howls moving castle is about a lot of things, and one of those things is loving yourself for who you are. both howl and sophie have problems with their self image and with who they are in general and they express it in different ways. howl is very extravagant and uses magic to make himself look as handsome and flashy as possible whereas sophie seems plain and simple, like shes hiding herself and not secure with who she is. this can be compared to Terus very loud and showy way of presenting himself and how before meeting mob he used his powers in a way to make both the people around him and the world bend to his will. hes got a lot of issues with himself that stem from a lot of things, which probably include his parents never being around during his teen years and being the only esper he knows thus creating this idea that hes somehow above others. both teru and howl are arguably selfish people who during the course of meeting certain people (sophie and mob) try to better themselves and become less selfish. howl throws himself into the battles outside the hat house to try and protect sophie while teru tries to stop ???%s rampage by talking with mob as a friend. Howls moving castle also has a general feeling of grand whimsy and magic that reminds me of teru, and as far as what movie i think hed like watching- i think hed enjoy arriety!! Porco Rosso reminds me so much of reigen, i really think theres been times that ive watched the movie and thought of reigen while watching it. the obvious comparison is that porco is selfish and self centered, which in the end is what has cursed him into becoming a pig. hes a bounty hunter by trade which can easily be tied to reigens con man business  ventures. theyre both very flawed men who put themselves first but the more we go into their story lines the more these selfish ways of thinking are challenged and changed, and despite their flaws both end up helping other people. it can be argued that reigen and porco are not exactly good people, but theyre not for sure bad people either. They both have a lot of issues they need to work on and in their worst critics are themselves, no matter how selfish they might be both characters very obviously are lonely and dont think very highly of themselves. also for a film i think hed like watching.. i like thinking about reigen and serizawa having a movie date night watching nausicaa ive been writing this all day and its already incredibly long so i think im going to end it here although i might come back another day and continue with characters including serizawa and all the girls because ive got thoughts on them too but wanted to answer on the same day as i got the ask. again if you have your own thoughts and ghibli movie comparisons please feel free to add on id love to hear what you think!! thank you so much for asking this

[priincesspacificaarchive]

ntiitaniumxwill replied to your post “40) things you said when you met my parents crime au”

*kicks door down* oKAY SO i finally got around to reading this and my eyes teared up????? like for real?????????? i love this world and this AU has a special place in my heart and ive never even thought of dip's parents and i am............... Aghast at myself but u, my lovely and incredible wife, you are so AHEAD of me?????? i dont even know where to start. all of this is so beautiful, so detailed, the emotions , the atmosphere. i might be SCREAMING

*cue me flinching at the idea of a door being kicked down near me even tho i love this “meme”* i remember feeling almost numb writing it bc i was so worried about how i was going to write major’s parents. i didn’t want him to be too distant from them, but i wanted it to be obvious they were unaware of the situation. i wanted them to be unaware of everything that had happened after stan’s death. i wanted that awkwardness of meeting your bf/husband/whatever’s parents for the first time. i wanted there to be an obvious strain, an obvious change that no one was going to talk about bc “at least our boy came back”. i wasnt sure what i was going to do with them, everyone sees them so differently, i think. so i took a kind of middle-road approach, with them having instilled certain things in their children. i really was unsure of how i was going to handle the “killing blow” scene. i knew it was what i wanted to do w why they were visiting, but i wasnt sure how i was going to have their parents react. i’ve never lost a child, i’ve barely lost a loved one. i’m not very familiar w grief personally, so i was unsure how to paint these characters w it, especially since they’re still v static i think in general. women are p much biologically coded to be more willing to show emotions and to cry than men (it’s testosterone okay) so i knew i was going to have the mom cry. most of the men in my family go into some form of shutdown when they get overly-emotional so that’s what i went w for him. also i pulled the names out of my butt and didn’t realize the “ma” part of maggie, mabel, and mason until i was in the middle of that scene and had written it like five times. so that was completely on the fly. but this is honestly something i could’ve seen easily being tens of thousands of words one-shot material. i am so so so honored you loved them, bc i was so so unsure of them the whole time i was writing them. this whole drabble was new territory. i’d never written a “meet-the-parents” scene and have barely experienced any irl so i wanted to make sure it was the right amount of awkward/heart-warming/strained-bc-of-their-life-choices thing. i wanted so desperately for it to feel like major and lioness are almost emotionally detached from the whole thing, but i knew that even if major wasn’t dipper anymore, his parents would still inspire a small piece of what might be left in major. and lioness would be nervous for so many reasons and one of them would certainly be if they’d like her. if they’d think she’s the reason he hadn’t come home in so long.

again, i always see my writing in my head like a movie, and do my best to put that movie into words. the scene at the end, w them in major’s old room, i fought w the wording and pacing w it. i wanted it to feel like a time machine and a nostalgia trip and a little bit like a funeral all at once. i wanted it to feel like what a parent must feel to walk into their child’s room when they’re no longer there. i wanted it to be a mourning period, especially for pacifica, who mourns the loss of dipper more than almost anyone else. she loves major more than anyone in the universe, more than herself, but she will always, always miss the opportunity to know dipper. to fall in love with dipper. it’s not hers to regret, but she wishes so hard she could’ve known who that boy could grow up to be. what kind of man he could’ve become.

pls never worry about thinking about the parents. i almost never think about characters parents unless they’re important for plot reasons (like paz’s).  i literally made them up as i went. i tried to take into account how old they’d be and then like, compared it to my own parents and grandparents and tried to hit an idea of what they’d do w their time. watching wheel of fortune and game shows like that is something we often do in the evenings at my one set of grandparents’ house so that’s where that came from. and then someone had give mabel even the idea of knitting so i thought her mother would be a good place (plus my grandma knits so. jacked that from her too).

also also also the whole “they can’t stay here” line of thought came from a fic i’d re-read recently and i knew that was the tone i was going for.

thank you so much for reading this and also babe i LOVE YOU and ALL THE SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGEMENT YOU’VE GIVEN ME OVER THE YEARS!!! YOU’RE ONE REASON I KEEP COMING BACK AND WRITING. THANK YOU!!!

as i mentioned i remember feeling numb writing it, and now when i read over it i feel distanced, like i’m watching from afar. i might revisit this and extend it or something bc as much as they’re static-feeling i love how i portrayed their parents and would love another opportunity to expand on them. it felt like such a big thing to tackle, bc i knew there needed to be so much written to even cover why they’d go back to california. at one point i thought maybe i’d put them in their teens and they’d be there for the tradition of introducing your partner to your parents. maybe it would be after they’re married and it’s a stop on a short honeymoon. i had a handful of ideas why, but i knew this one was the right pick as many times as i wanted to make it something else.

the “opening scene” of them in the car, in my head there’s no background muisc, maybe the rushing of the wind through open windows, but no music. i can hear something soft and melancholy and aching when they’re in major’s old room, when they look at mabel’s door is when it’d start probs. that sad full house violin music when major’s trying to tell them mabel’s gone. when he’s explaining why. (literally that track makes me cry every time) something soft but ultimately happy plays when they reunion begins, hitting a crescendo when maggie throws herself down the stairs to her son. a sort of sinister music when lioness and major are telepathically talking about what major’s done to his father’s mind.

gosh i might have to do more parts bc i can see them staying for at least a weekend if not an entire week just talking to the parents and helping them understand and cope.

i’m so glad u love it, wife, and i’m so thankful that you see the details, but ultimately i think i could’ve given even more and extended it even further. this is definitely a thing i’m open to writing more of.]

[edit: the scene where they tell them about mabel, paz mentions her empathy spiking. i’ve lowkey decided that she’s so connected to major that some of what’s given him his telepathy has sort of flowed into her, and because she’s taken on being major’s humanity, she’s extremely empathic, and the supernatural just enhanced it. so she actually feels what others are feeling. this allows her to be more aware of major’s emotional state, but also can be used to manipulate enemies and lackeys alike. she can’t manipulate their emotions, but she can use what she’s feeling from them to sway them one way or another. touching mr. pines in the scene where her body is screaming at her to be comforting could’ve been disastrous bc his emotions are running so high from less than a foot away that she already felt like she was grieving as hard as he was. she might’ve completely lost herself in his emotions if she’d touched him. it was kinda a last-minute decision in that scene but it’s an idea i like a lot. she probably wouldn’t start to develop it until she’s been with major for years.

so yeah that was supposed to be a subtle thing but idk how subtle it was so i’m explaining it all now.]

#tiitaniumxwill #[out of diamonds][ooc]

[throw-books-around-like-con-blog]

Human Teacher – Marsha Hackett, teacher at Jackson High School “The Fault in Our Stars” by John Green, published in 2012

I am embarrassed to admit … The Fault in Our Stars is the very first John Green book I have read. I have seen the movie and I have also seen his movie “Paper Towns,” which is based on another book he wrote, but this is the first book of his that I have read. One might be embarrassed to admit this detail because John Green is a global phenomenon; his books have sold millions and I know so many people who read his books in high school. I was always curious about the fandom and popularity of John Green books, but chose to avoid that curiosity because I am not a big fan of love stories, which is the primary focus in most of his books. Rather than pick up a John Green book, I chose to read a science fiction novel like The Hunger Games or Divergent. I have to say, while I purposely avoided John Green books for years, I am thankful that a teacher recommended I read “The Fault in Our Stars” for my semester blog project.

The teacher who recommended the book to me is actually my best friend’s mom. I have known Mrs. Hackett since I was in 7th grade, and let me tell you, she is the last person I would have expected to suggest this book to me. However, I figured, if she liked it, then it must be a good book.

After reading this book, I understand why she recommended it to me and I especially understand why millions of people are obsessed with John Green books: This book was INCREDIBLE.

The Fault in Our Stars is a fictional love story about a girl named Hazel and a boy named Augustus. Hazel has been fighting Stage IV thyroid cancer since she was 13 years old and Augustus is a survivor of osteosarcoma. They meet for the first time at a cancer support group and their love progresses throughout the story. This is a novel about first love, true love, happiness, sadness, sickness, pain, heartbreak, and hope.

Hazel and Augustus are an unlikely couple as Hazel is very blunt, outspoken, sarcastic, and has a habit of keeping people out of her world due to the fact that she is a “grenade.” She said “I’m like. Like. I’m like a grenade, Mom. I’m a grenade and at some point I’m going to blow up and I would like to minimize the casualties, okay?” (Green 99). She is also obsessed with the book An Imperial Affliction, with crediting the author as her “Third best friend” (Green 13). Augustus is a character himself, a character who “Fear[s] earthly oblivion. The oblivious fear is something else, fear that I won’t be able to give anything in exchange for my life. If you don’t live a life in service of a greater good, you’ve gotta at least die a death in service of a greater good, you know? Everyone wants to lead an extraordinary life” (Green 168-169). Augustus is a typical 17-year-old boy who loves video games and The Price of Dawn, a science fiction novel referenced throughout the book; he believes in romantic gestures and also insists on calling Hazel by her first and middle name (Hazel Grace) throughout the book.

I really enjoyed the way Green wrote this book. He wrote it in a way that the reader could make personal connections with the characters. When Augustus “Lit up like a Christmas tree” (Green 214) (referencing the fact that his cancer was back), I as a reader felt truly sorry for him and it absolutely broke my heart when him and Hazel broke down crying because “It’s just so goddamned unfair” (Green 214). When Isaac (Augustus’ best friend) had to get his lone-standing eye removed to prevent future cancer, I felt so sad that he would never be able to see his beloved video games ever again, and it also made me appreciate the fact that I have eyes and that I can maneuver myself around and live independently, whereas Isaac would always need assistance. Every time something sad would happen in this book, I felt so sorry for the characters, and although the characters are fictional and this whole story is fictional, events like these actually happen to people.

One of my favorite parts about this book was the symbolism that took place. My favorite form of symbolism was Augustus’ cigarettes. In one of Hazel and Augustus’ first encounters with one another, Augustus pulled out a pack of cigarettes and put one in his mouth. With him knowing that Hazel could barely breath out of her lungs due to cancer, she was furious. However, he assured her that he wasn’t actually going to smoke the cigarette. “They don’t kill you unless you light them. And I’ve never lit one. It’s a metaphor, see: You put the killing thing right between your teeth, but you don’t give it the power to do it’s killing” (Green 20). Although a metaphor, Augustus’ cigarettes symbolize the fact that he is in control of his own life; something like cigarettes can’t kill him if he doesn’t let it. Throughout a majority of the story, Augustus was in control of his life because he was cancer-free. However, the symbolism of controlling his life by not lighting the cigarettes was almost a form of dramatic irony; page 214 revealed that the cancer was back and it was going to control his life until his death.

Another symbol that also acted as a motif (as well as Augustus’ cigarettes) was Hazel’s oxygen tank and cart. Her oxygen tank and cart, sadly, symbolized weakness, sickness, reliability, and the constant gawking from people. The symbolism is obvious on page 141. As Hazel, Augustus, and Hazel’s mother were in the airport getting ready to depart for Amsterdam, they had to go through airport security, and rather than get searched by hand, Hazel “chose to walk through the metal detector without my cart or my tank or even the plastic nubbins in my nose. Walking through the X-ray machine marked the first time I’d taken a step without oxygen in some months, and it felt pretty amazing to walk unencumbered like that” (Green 141). Hazel usually feels weak due to the fact that she has to rely on her oxygen tank and cart to survive, and while those objects typically symbolize weakness, sickness, and reliability, she felt a sense of strength and power when she went without it for a few moments.

Another thing I enjoyed about this book was the foreshadowing that took place. An example occurred when a quote by Peter Van Houten, author of An Imperial Affliction, was featured on a page before the story even started. This signified the importance the author would play throughout the book. Another instance of foreshadowing took place on page 229 when Hazel said “I never took another picture of him.” Although incredibly sad, due to the fact that it foreshadowed Augustus’ death, I always enjoy when foreshadowing takes place in a book.

The Fault in Our Stars is a depressing book about love and death, to say the least. This book gives any hopeless romantic the hope that they took might find their own Augustus Waters (while hoping that their love story doesn’t have a somber ending). I thoroughly enjoyed this book because it gave me an even bigger appreciation for my life and my health, and also made me realize how lucky we all are to be alive, healthy, and well. This book also showed me, as well as others I assume, that no matter how sick you are, you must continue to have hope and fight on, and you mustn’t ever give up. If Hazel and Augustus can summon the bravery to keep fighting and living their life, so can everyone else.

As I end this post, I leave you with a quote by Peter Van Houten from his book, An Imperial Affliction.

“As the tide washed in, the Dutch Tulip Man faced the ocean: ‘Conjoiner rejoinder poisoner concealer revelator. Look at it, rising up and rising down, taking everything with it.’ ‘What’s that?’ I asked. ‘Water,’ the Dutchman said ‘Well, and time.’”

[longlistshort]

Silver Jews- Random Rules

I first heard about David Berman and his band Silver Jews a while ago, as they were one of those bands you heard about if you were a Pavement fan. But sadly, I never got around to listening to them until now.

Stephen Malkmus and David Berman went to the University of Virginia and later moved together to Hoboken, New Jersey. There Malkmus, along with their other roommate Bob Nastanovich, played with additional bandmates as Pavement, and together with Berman they formed the Silver Jews, although Berman soon remained the only constant member of the band.

When I discovered that David Berman had passed away and read the many quotes from his songs posted online by friends and fans, I finally spent some time listening to his music. There are just so many great lines in these songs. For instance, from Random Rules, posted above- “In 1984, I was hospitalized for approaching perfection/ Slowly screwing my way across Europe, they had to make a correction”. It’s a funny opener and the whole song is filled with quotable lyrics. Towards the end are the lyrics “I asked the painter why the roads are colored black/ He said, ‘Steve, it’s because people leave/And no highway will bring them back’.” So many of his songs are like this, the humor mixed with the pathos.

Silver Jews disbanded in 2009 and Berman quit making music for awhile. In 2011 he started a blog. In May, ten years after he stopped making music, he released the album Purple Mountains. The lyrics to the songs on this album, including the one below, are poignant, made even more so after his death. In a recent interview with Exclaim!, he discusses each song off that album.

Purple Mountains- All My Happiness Is Gone (song starts 2:06)

He also wrote poetry, and this poem, from his book Actual Air, is just so incredible I’m presenting it in its entirety (via poemhunter).

Self- Portrait at 28

I know it's a bad title but I'm giving it to myself as a gift on a day nearly canceled by sunlight when the entire hill is approaching the ideal of Virginia brochured with goldenrod and loblolly and I think "at least I have not woken up with a bloody knife in my hand" by then having absently wandered one hundred yards from the house while still seated in this chair with my eyes closed. It is a certain hill the one I imagine when I hear the word "hill" and if the apocalypse turns out to be a world-wide nervous breakdown if our five billion minds collapse at once well I'd call that a surprise ending and this hill would still be beautiful a place I wouldn't mind dying alone or with you.

I am trying to get at something and I want to talk very plainly to you so that we are both comforted by the honesty. You see there is a window by my desk I stare out when I am stuck though the outdoors has rarely inspired me to write and I don't know why I keep staring at it. My childhood hasn't made good material either mostly being a mulch of white minutes with a few stand out moments, popping tar bubbles on the driveway in the summer a certain amount of pride at school everytime they called it "our sun" and playing football when the only play was "go out long" are what stand out now. If squeezed for more information I can remember old clock radios with flipping metal numbers and an entree called Surf and Turf. As a way of getting in touch with my origins every night I set the alarm clock for the time I was born so that waking up becomes a historical reenactment and the first thing I do is take a reading of the day and try to flow with it like when you're riding a mechanical bull and you strain to learn the pattern quickly so you don't inadverantly resist it.

II two I can't remember being born and no one else can remember it either even the doctor who I met years later at a cocktail party. It's one of the little disappointments that makes you think about getting away going to Holly Springs or Coral Gables and taking a room on the square with a landlady whose hands are scored by disinfectant, telling the people you meet that you are from Alaska, and listen to what they have to say about Alaska until you have learned much more about Alaska than you ever will about Holly Springs or Coral Gables. Sometimes I am buying a newspaper in a strange city and think "I am about to learn what it's like to live here." Oftentimes there is a news item about the complaints of homeowners who live beside the airport and I realize that I read an article on this subject nearly once a year and always receive the same image. I am in bed late at night in my house near the airport listening to the jets fly overhead a strange wife sleeping beside me. In my mind, the bedroom is an amalgamation of various cold medicine commercial sets (there is always a box of tissue on the nightstand). I know these recurring news articles are clues, flaws in the design though I haven't figured out how to string them together yet, but I've begun to notice that the same people are dying over and over again, for instance Minnie Pearl who died this year for the fourth time in four years.

III three Today is the first day of Lent and once again I'm not really sure what it is. How many more years will I let pass before I take the trouble to ask someone? It reminds of this morning when you were getting ready for work. I was sitting by the space heater numbly watching you dress and when you asked why I never wear a robe I had so many good reasons I didn't know where to begin. If you were cool in high school you didn't ask too many questions. You could tell who'd been to last night's big metal concert by the new t-shirts in the hallway. You didn't have to ask and that's what cool was: the ability to deduct to know without asking. And the pressure to simulate coolness means not asking when you don't know, which is why kids grow ever more stupid. A yearbook's endpages, filled with promises to stay in touch, stand as proof of the uselessness of a teenager's promise. Not like I'm dying for a letter from the class stoner ten years on but... Do you remember the way the girls would call out "love you!" conveniently leaving out the "I" as if they didn't want to commit to their own declarations. I agree that the "I" is a pretty heavy concept and hope you won't get uncomfortable if I should go into some deeper stuff here.

IV four There are things I've given up on like recording funny answering machine messages. It's part of growing older and the human race as a group has matured along the same lines. It seems our comedy dates the quickest. If you laugh out loud at Shakespeare's jokes I hope you won't be insulted if I say you're trying too hard. Even sketches from the original Saturday Night Live seem slow-witted and obvious now. It's just that our advances are irrepressible. Nowadays little kids can't even set up lemonade stands. It makes people too self-conscious about the past, though try explaining that to a kid. I'm not saying it should be this way. All this new technology will eventually give us new feelings that will never completely displace the old ones leaving everyone feeling quite nervous and split in two. We will travel to Mars even as folks on Earth are still ripping open potato chip bags with their teeth. Why? I don't have the time or intelligence to make all the connections like my friend Gordon (this is a true story) who grew up in Braintree Massachusetts and had never pictured a brain snagged in a tree until I brought it up. He'd never broken the name down to its parts. By then it was too late. He had moved to Coral Gables.

V five The hill out my window is still looking beautiful suffused in a kind of gold national park light and it seems to say, I'm sorry the world could not possibly use another poem about Orpheus but I'm available if you're not working on a self-portrait or anything. I'm watching my dog have nightmares, twitching and whining on the office floor and I try to imagine what beast has cornered him in the meadow where his dreams are set. I'm just letting the day be what it is: a place for a large number of things to gather and interact -- not even a place but an occasion a reality for real things. Friends warned me not to get too psychedelic or religious with this piece: "They won't accept it if it's too psychedelic or religious," but these are valid topics and I'm the one with the dog twitching on the floor possibly dreaming of me that part of me that would beat a dog for no good reason no reason that a dog could see. I am trying to get at something so simple that I have to talk plainly so the words don't disfigure it and if it turns out that what I say is untrue then at least let it be harmless like a leaky boat in the reeds that is bothering no one. VI six I can't trust the accuracy of my own memories, many of them having blended with sentimental telephone and margarine commercials plainly ruined by Madison Avenue though no one seems to call the advertising world "Madison Avenue" anymore. Have they moved? Let's get an update on this. But first I have some business to take care of. I walked out to the hill behind our house which looks positively Alaskan today and it would be easier to explain this if I had a picture to show you but I was with our young dog and he was running through the tall grass like running through the tall grass is all of life together until a bird calls or he finds a beer can and that thing fills all the space in his head. You see, his mind can only hold one thought at a time and when he finally hears me call his name he looks up and cocks his head and for a single moment my voice is everything: Self-portrait at 28.

There is only so much time to read, listen to, and see all the wonderful things people have created. David Berman made work well worth spending some of that precious time on.

Rest in Peace.

#david berman #silver jews #purple mountains #music #musicians #writers #poetry #books #playlist #pavement #stephen malkmus #rip

[ourlittledinosaur]

It Takes a Village? | by IV, V and Me

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It Takes a Village? | by IV, V and Me

Guest Post by IV, V and Me

“It Takes a Village”

We have all heard it… shoot, I think I even said it last week, but is ‘it takes a village’ just a phrase or is it really truth? Honestly, this phrase never even crossed my mind until my son was born and all the villagers came out of hiding with the good, the bad and the ugly advice; but this didn’t really bother me until I got some parenting experience under my belt. My son is 9 months old so obviously I am now an expert… even so; I was now ready to bestow my “parenting wisdom” on other moms. As soon as another mom mentioned any struggle she was having with her kids, I wanted to jump in to save the day with my expert advice on the matter… queue the other mom holding back on rolling her eyes as I ask the question all moms know too well “have you tried this?” like she hadn’t googled every possible solution to the problem she was dealing with. Was I really going to be that villager, the one with the pitchfork of advice at the ready any time I talked to another mom? Is a village necessary to survive parenthood? If so, what is truly needed?

Getting to the truth

I decided it was time to actually get other mommy perspectives on the subject of  ‘it takes a village’.  So, I gave a shout out to the Facebook world with 4 questions, two for and two against parenting advice to see if the “village” was more helpful or harmful.

Once you become a mom, something that is needed is thick skin, so that when you do end up receiving unwarranted advice, you can take it with a grain of salt. My friend Jamey W. said it best “I have heard/felt things that while harsh at the time, as I reflected (and minimized my pride) realized they were probably right or at least something there that should be considered.” This is a mom with a teenager and a college student; her answer is why I need to have mentors in my village to explain, “Pride causes us to miss a lot of truth.” Yes, getting offended is a cultural phenomenon, but instead of pouting, I can take what has been said and use it to grow and become a better, more developed person. I learned pride gets in the way of even allowing myself to be surrounded by a village. One obvious way I realized I needed growth in was learning that my son could benefit from being around others.

At first, I was very hesitant to allow other people be around my son, I mean, I made him… I can be selfish, right? But once I got past that, I found how beneficial it was to have others interact with my child. They would play with him in ways that never would have crossed my mind, and truly showed me new ways to love my son.  “It is incredibly valuable to be in community with other people who pour into and love your child– they speak into their lives in a multitude of ways, and it’s powerful and humbling and so much better than doing it on your own. Other people can speak into their gifts, challenges, and behavior in a way that you can’t, and they see the things you have blind spots to.” –Annie M. This is why it is so important to have peers be in my village. Your peers can help you to be more creative with teaching and during play time as Jenna S. saw this as “a refreshing reminder to not let your child play her way right through her days without me, I just don’t want to miss It.” This has also opened my eyes to the fact that controlling every aspect of my life is just not attainable; I need help and support.

            Being a very controlling person, I really wanted to do everything on my own and then… well, exhaustion set in. The other night I broke down (my son has started waking up at 2:00am hyper and not going back to sleep until 3:30am), my husband offered to pray with me as I was rocking our son to sleep and I said, “no, I just want to get Ru to sleep.” It took me about 5 minutes to realize what I needed was my husband to pray over me and once I gave up that control, it was like a gospel choir came rising up singing “Hallelujah”! A wise friend stated, “Praying that the Lord would guide you in each situation and lead you on how to love, affirm, teach, correct, and discipline in a way that is honoring to him. Praying isn’t hard to do, but always feeling prepared and equipped can be hard when it comes to parenting.” This makes me realize that protectors are needed in my village. God allows us to lean on him and others just as a friend who is a fellow new mom has grown to “learn now more than ever to trust in God’s plan and have faith that no matter what, He knows what is best and He is leading our lives.” After recognizing all that was needed for my village to be a great support system, there was something gnawing at the back of mind, something that was missing.

             Out of all the moms I had asked these questions to, one specifically made me realize something most moms are afraid to say “I am one amazing woman and mom.” –Jen H. She is a single mom who has had to learn how to be strong for her and her kids. “But our God is good. And he put me through some tough times that led me to now. And who am I now? A fully functional adult who can clean and not lose her cool; I make doctors appointments and make sure the kids get their fruits and veggies.” This is when I realized confidence is needed in myself for the village. I am my toughest critique when it comes to my skills as a mother but why can’t I admit that some days I am doing a great job or some things I do rock at as a mother. I feel confidence could be such a great tool for us to spur on to be even better, to never stop trying to achieve the goal of loving our children fiercely.

The Do’s and Don’ts

Here are some of the BEST advice moms have benefited from hearing:

“You’re going to make mistakes, they grow up despite us, and they grow up fast so enjoy every moment.” –Jennie H.

“It is the ride of your life! Have fun! Find what works for you and do that.” –SueEllen H.

“Sleep when the baby sleeps” –Candace T., Chrissy S.

“Never let the kids leave the house without saying you love them.  And always say encouraging words to your children.” –Ann M.

“Each difficult stage is temporary and you will miss It.” –Calli K.

“Do what you feel is best for you and your child and not to worry about what others think.” –Amanda B.

  Things to keep in mind NOT to do:

“Saying things like ‘they are going to see it eventually.’  It doesn’t mean they need to see it now!” –Candace T.

“My sister-in-law never had kids and she always told me how to raise them, she would punish them in front of me when they would do something that was no big deal to me.” –Ann M.

“I felt pressured by others to use formula, feed her puréed and solid food, to sleep train when I wasn’t quite ready yet.” –Calli K.

“I have had a lot of people tell me that my daughter is big for her age and maybe I should watch what I feed her.” –Amanda B.

“As I was struggling to get my firstborn to latch I decided to pump and bottle feed her until our latch was successful. My MIL told me bottle-feeding wouldn’t create as strong of a bond as breastfeeding would. My bond with both my children is unbreakable and bottle shaming is as ridiculous and insensitive as breast shaming. Fed is best!” –Anonymous

“People trying to fix problems I’ve been working on forever like my child’s diet or showing distaste for the freedoms I allow.” –Jenna S.

So, is ‘it takes a village’ just a phrase or is it truth?

The truth is, it takes the right village… so choose wisely.

-IV, V and Me

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#best advice for expecting parents #Best advice for new parents #It Takes a Village #The Best Way to give advice to new parents