#my big projects next year will probably be somewhere in time (again since that fucker is still going) and snowblind

[caesarclowningaround]

Jess’s 2022 ao3 wrapped

(tagged by @lumiereandcogsworth​!! thank you 🥰)

works published: 22

word count: 273,695

bookmarks: 80

shortest fic: Enamored (a small Jafar/Ettore fic) at 118 words

longest fic: Violet Skies (my big Jafar/Adam fic) at 81,561 words

gifts: Received 1,  Gifted to others 3

collabs: none

events: LM Gift Exchange (1 fic), Kenzarelli: Into the Multiverse (1 fic), Marwan Kinktober 2022 (2 fics), Spooky TopJoe Bingo (5 fics)

most popular by kudos AND hits: Violet Skies, but it has the unfair advantage of being a fic I started years ago. Second place goes to Somewhere in Time (my Kenzarelli ft. BATB2017 multi-ship Dracula AU)

most popular by comments: Again, Violet Skies and Somewhere in Time are at the top

fic that made me smile: Too many to name here!

fic that made me cry: Several, though I can’t precisely name them all here. What can I say? I get emotional when I read fic lol

overall, a really good year writing-wise. I’ve written so fucking much this past year I’m still blown away by the word count on several of these fics. I’ve said it before, but I used to have trouble writing fics over 2k and over the past year I’ve had a hard time writing anything under 5k. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or bad, but I’m proud of myself for writing so much and telling stories in the length that I used to want to and now have the ability to do so without bending over backward. I hope I can carry that productivity into next year and have fun while I’m doing it!

tagging: ANYBODY WHO WANTS TO CAN CONSIDER THEMSELVES TAGGED BY ME!!

#violet skies and somewhere in time were by two big projects this year #they got all the attention #if only was another big one but it didn't get as much attention understandably #my big projects next year will probably be somewhere in time (again since that fucker is still going) and snowblind #all about me

[ramblingaboutthings]

Hard | Draco Malfoy

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Word count: 3.5 kkkkkk LIKE WHAT?

Summary: here

A/n: this contains swear words, blood and a lot of mistakes, but I got so excited and got too carried away. I warn you, I changed A LOT of things and I'm kind of not sorry for that.

Also TUMBLR HERE decided to delete my draft and I had to correct it again so sorry if it sucks, it's 00:40 here and I'm going crazy.

It'd been a stressful day, you went to Hogsmeade and someone put some strange spell on a poor girl. No one really knew who did it. But everyone was getting strange vibes from it.

So he created some kind of project, once a month a student from each house was selected to move temporarily into another house, to avoid internal conflicts.

That night, was a special one for Hogwarts.

Dumbledore wanted the school to be united, every house had to say goodbye to rivalries.

And that day was one of those times, Dumbledore was going to announce who the lucky students were.

You at dinner, in the great hall, with your Hufflepuff friends.

"Hey Black, are you okay?" One of them asked, noticing you spacing out and only earning a death glare, as a response from you.

Those days, you'd been in a bad mood and the fact that your dad's died not so long before didn't help at all, he was everything she had.

And now he was gone, leaving his only child alone.

Sirius Black didn't even know he had a daughter until his high school girlfriend showed up at the Potter's door one night with a little girl in her arms, the love of Sirius' life, before disappearing.

He later discovered he wasn't your real father but he still loved you like he was. Then we all know what happened next.

He'd raised you until he was accused of homicide and taken to Azkaban.

You only got to see him for two years, after he escaped the prison.

And after they finally got to be in each other's lives again, Harry came up to her, one night, and told you he was dead. You were angry, sad, frustrated... not even a last goodbye, he was just gone. After that you simply locked yourself up in your room and got out only to go to class.

Until that day.

You hoped you could finally spend your next month away from the Hufflepuffs, they knew too much about you and you needed a fresh start.

They were good friends of course, but you wanted to be free for that whole month.

You glanced over the Gryffindor table to find Harry mirroring your sad look, but Dumbledore coughed to get your attention making you turn around quickly.

"Today, my dear students, if you're lucky enough, you'll be experiencing a new thing, you'll get to know other mentalities, other personalities so please listen here. For the slytherin house, Pansy Parkinson will go to the Gryffindors" a loud mix of groans erupted from the gold and red table, interrupted his speech. But he just ignored it.

"Hermione Granger, we all are aware of your intelligence, so you're staying with the Ravenclaws.

Miss Lovegood, you're staying with the Hufflepuffs" your table cheered, you all loved her.

Your smile faded when you realized, one of the Hufflepuffs was going to be a Slytherin for four whole weeks. And for some reason you knew for sure you were going to be that one.

"Miss Black, all your family comes from Slytherin witches and wizards so I thought you could try and understand what being one of them is really like" you groaned as your suspicion got real, and lowered your head while a dozen of people from the Slytherin table were clapping.

You gazed around your table only to find shocked faces, someone even glared at you.

'Fuck this' you thought before walking toward the Slytherins.

One of them, Deneb was her name, -you recognized her from divination class- called you from the table, and you were more than happy she did, because you two got along just great, and it would've been awkward sitting beside someone you didn't know.

"So, you're the new Slytherin uh? I'm glad it's you Y/n, come on sit down." She invited you.

You glanced around to study everyone's faces but they were like stone, no emotions.

You sat between Den and the most handsome boy you'd ever seen, Draco Malfoy, he'd grown up so much since you'd last seen him. But his signature smirk wasn't plastered on his face as usual, in it's place there was a thin line, his lips sealed in a neutral expression.

"Hey Malfoy" you greeted kindly.

"Shut up half-" he said harshly,interrupting himself trying to insult you.

"He's not been himself lately, usually he's not that bad, you all always judge him, but he's sweet with the people he fancies" Den explained, and you did believe her, because you saw the good in every person and he flooded with kindness. You noticed how his eyes sparkled before a quidditch match, his soft sneaky smiles that grew onto his face whenever he got a spell right. You knew he was a soft boy, he just liked to think that it made him weak so he covered it all up.

As you met his gaze you noticed his bright grey eyes were dark and full of sadness that made you smile softly. Just the fact that he was trying to insult you made you feel sick.

"I'm not sweet" he stated, probably less convincingly than he thought.

"It's okay Draco, I don't want to argue" you clarified. His expression changed for a quick second, before going back to his stone-face self.

He liked that you called him Draco, it made him feel like you liked him for who he was, not Malfoy, not the Slytherin prince, just Draco.

And that was exactly your intention, to make him feel like someone actually cared.

After that little conversation, everyone in the big hall started to leave to go to their dorms.

Some of your house walked right in front of you giving you sad smiles, Harry, Ron and Hermione even gave Draco death stares.

You knew he had been an ass in the past years, you knew he wasn't the nicest when it came to words, but he wasn't what the others said he was.

Or maybe it was your big crush on him speaking for you. Yeah, probably.

"I'm going to sleep. Malfoy? Show her where's our room" she said.

Draco gave her a hint of a smile that almost made you feel uncomfortable.

'No Y/n you're not jealous, stop' you thought.

"Draco, uhm- so you and Den-?" Draco let out a semi-genuine laugh, before you even completed your sentence.

"She's not my girlfriend Y/n, I don't like her, she's like my cousin, she is my father's cousin's daughter, you're probably kind of her relative too" he explained, and you suddenly felt stupid.

"I'm not your cousin Draco, I'm not a real Black, dad- Sirius just gave me his last name" his lips parted slightly at your confession.

"You're not a Black? Y- he adopted you? Like- oh sorry I don't want to make you uncomfortable" he said quickly. A chuckle escaped your lips.

"It's fine, my mom abandoned me, I only know Voldemort killed her and she was a half-blood and so was my real father, who died as well. Professor Lupin was the one who raised me for twelve years, but I've only ever cared about Sirius, he was the best thing in my life even if for a short time. " you confessed, he smiled sadly, his gaze burning on your face.

You didn't know why you trusted him, but for some reason, you did.

"You know, my father uhm- made me do horrible things, but he's family, I don't want to disappoint him" he confessed reluctantly.

Later he'd invited you to his room, he seemed to have loosened up a little bit, while you entered his dorm.

A green and silver scarf was hung on the wall with his last name on it. His bed was perfectly made, no wrinkles, just a smooth green blanket.

To say you were impressed was an understatement.

You smiled at him "so that's why you hide your good part uh?" he nodded.

He just suddenly wrapped his arms around you tightly. You made him feel alive again. He missed the feeling, it was like a deja vu from last year, when you found him crying in a hidden corner when without saying anything, you hugged him, lettinghis speak.

"You're not that bad for an Hufflepuff you know?" He smirked. His first signature smirk of the year, just for you!

"And you're not that bad for a Slytherin either" you laughed.

"I missed physical contact, I-I uhm- it's not very common in the Malfoy manor, to get all cuddly I mean" his chest vibrated with his embarassed laugh that filled your ears as you memorized that beautiful and harmonic sound.

"You're so warm" you said, obviously blushing. Thank you dark night!

"And you're a freezing Hufflepuff" he pulled away much to your dismay and took something out of his wardrobe.

He handed you a green hoodie with a basilisk on the front and the name "Malfoy" on the back.

"I can't accept-"

"It's yours Y/n. Now if you excuse me I have to go somewhere, I'll show you where you're going to sleep" he grabbed your hand, not even realizing it, and took you with him to another corridor, a wooden door with a sign was suddenly in front of us, 'Pansy and Deneb' it read.

You were too zoned out to really comprehend what was going on, but suddenly your hand felt cold, extremely cold. You looked at it, disappointment clearly written all over your face.

"I'm sorry... for you know, taking your hand and everything" he said before walking away, without even waiting for an answer.

You opened the door in front of you and found Den sitting on what you assumed was her bed.

When she spotted you, she smiled.

"Did you do it?" Your cheeks flushed at your not so holy thoughts. You shook your head 'no daydreaming about these things you fucker'

"W-what are y-you talking about?" You asked her with wide eyes.

"Did you kiss Draco?" She asked.

"He's like my cousin Deneb!" You whispered.

"He's not and you know that, so please tell me. Do you like him? " she giggled. You gasped quietly, surprised she knew you weren't a Black.

"I-I want to sleep, uh good night"

"Y/n likes Draco. Y/n likes Draco. Y/n likes Draco!" she chanted.

You ignored her and sneaked into your new very comfortable bed.

Was it that obvious? That you liked Draco.

"All you do is stare at him Y/n " she said like she had read your thoughts or something.

"He's not what he wants the others to believe he is" you explained

"plus he's cute" Deneb completed making you both laugh.

----------------• ☆☆☆☆ •---------------

That morning the atmosphere was extremely strange and tensed, there weren't many students in the Great Hall.

As you approached Harry in your new Slytherin hoodie, Draco's last name properly covered with a scarf. He kind of looked at you in disgust, like he despised you. But you knew he only hated Slytherins in general.

"You look great in green!" Hermione exclaimed happily.

"And you look hella good in blue 'Mione!" You winked.

"Katy said she can't remember anything from Yesterday, but I know it was Draco, I saw him" Harry assumed, your blood began to boil on anger.

"He's not a bad person" you said as calmly as you could.

"Oh you're so blind Y/n" and you were going to spat at him but Draco made his way into the big room, his eyes full of fear and, regret? Was Harry right?

You didn't even have time to answer that question because Draco ran away toward the bathroom.

Harry followed him, and you resisted your instincts for once, all you wanted was rushing after him, she wanted to know who Draco was, who he really was.

You all sat at the same table, including Deneb. It was a nice morning except for the fact that you didn't know where either Harry or Draco went.

"How's being a Slytherin?" Hermione asked snapping you out of your trance.

"It's quite nice, they're not as bad as you think ... and you're just wrong about Draco, he's actually really calm and sweet when he wants to" you explained, a light blush crept onto your face as you did.

"Are you kidding? Malfoy? Sweet? You're crazy" Hermione hissed.

You huffed looking at Deneb for a moment.

"Draco isn't the one you think he is, I'm his cousin, I know what I'm talking about. But his father... he's ruining him, his mother is trying her best but Lucius is just an evil coward" Deneb said, way too calmly.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other before smiling.

"Deneb, is this girl right there intrested in your cousin?" Ron asked, smirking and pointing to you.

"No, she just has a really kind heart" she answered sending you a wink.

You even stopped listening to the conversation. All you could think about was Draco. Where the fuck was he? You swore, if Harry'd done something to him you were gonna kill him slowly,You kind of thought, at that point, that he was just a selfish boy trying to get some attention.

You spaced out for a little while.

Draco's grey eyes popped onto your mind, his smile, his face... but every good thing stopped appearing as soon as you got anxious, you were going crazy right? Harry couldn't hurt him. Could he?

You stormed out of the great hall without even saying anything, you just ran up the stairs, your breath was heavy and it was like your legs got heavier and heavier with every step. But the worst happened when you opened the door of the bathroom.

Draco was laying on the wet floor, he was wincing in pain, his platinum hair sticking on his forehead, his beautiful eyes were closed and some tears were stained on his cheeks.

But even worse was the fact he was covered in blood, his white shirt was now all red and you felt extremely useless.

"Draco, Draco it's me, Y/n" you said before kneeling down beside him.

"Y-Y/n-" then he yelled, that loud your head started to pound slowly.

"Draco, please I'm here, Snape is coming upstairs, I saw him, stay awake" you pleaded as you started to cry, hot tears streaming down your cheeks and landing on your parted lips as you sobbed loudly.

"Y/n? Why a-are you here?" He winced

"You're my friend Draco!" You exclaimed brushing his hair away from his forehead.

"You s-shouldn't b-be- Y/n I-"

"Draco you're not a bad person! Stay with me, please." you implored sobbing loudly and crying, but you didn't care, you only wanted him to live.

"You what Draco? Stay awake please" you sobbed loudly when you noticed the death eaters symbol, that was what he was trying to say, but you didn't give a fuck. You didn't want to lose him, death eater or not, you were falling in love with him.

"I h-hurt people" he whispered weakly

"I-" he opened his eyes for a quick second looking at me but right then they closed again and you realized he'd blacked out, his heart rate fell and he wasn't breathing. That's when realization hit you. He was dead.

Everything that happened soon after went in slow motion, Snape coming in and picking him up from the floor, some people coming in and out of the room, water still flooding the floor. But you were completely still. watching the blood on your hands.

You let out a frustrated scream, when the room was completely empty.

You sat there, sobbing like a little child.

It wasn't like he was the best of your friends, but he somehow understood you, even though you had talked to each others just four or five times in six years of school he listened to you and didn't judge you a single time and you let him die under your watch.

Couldn't you have just gone downstairs and call a professor? You were sad and mostly angry at yourself and at who did that.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" Hermione asked appearing behind you.

"Leave me the fuck alone!" you yelled, not stopping the tears that now completely made your face wet.

"Y/n what happened?"

"He-he killed him, he's dead. Draco is fucking DEAD!" you shouted angrily, your voice rough.

"Who killed him Y/n?"

"Your fucking best friend Hermione" you hissed sniffling.

"I hate him! " you screamed on top of your lungs.

Hermione hugged you tightly after sitting down beside you.

"You love Malfoy. don't you?"

"H-he's d-ead" your voice trembled as Hermione soothed you tracing circles onto your back.

"I'm sorry Y/n"

"He wasn't that bad you know" you took a long shaky breath but broke down crying again immediately.

"I trust you"

"He didn't want to harm anyone" you groaned in frustration.

She helped you up and put one of your arms around her neck.

Your legs felt numb and as you made your way to your dorm, you felt weaker and weaker.

As you opened the door you launched yourself on the bed, face buried in your pillow.

"What-" Deneb asked.

"Draco- " Hermione stopped to take a long breath. "He died" she explained. You on the other hand just continued to cry uncontrollably.

"Hey Y/n it's oka-"

"Don't you fucking dare say it's okay!" You screamed.

"Y/n listen to me okay? He was a really good person, he'd always been awfully nice to you but now he can rest in peace, without all the terrible things they constantly do to him. He deserves this" you knew she was right but you still refused to stop sobbing.

At some point you did stop, and the other two girls smiled softly when they heard your shaky breath become heavy as you drifted off to sleep.

----------------• ☆☆☆☆ •---------------

The following days had been hell for Y/n, all she did was cry and cry.

Dumbledore often went to console her, and she knew something was up, they didn't even have a funeral for Draco.

Y/n's life had gotten miserable.

You locked yourself up again, professor Mcgonagall said you were in shock because you saw someone die under your eyes, so she even let you skip classes. And you were glad she did.

But that day you had been dragged out of your room by Deneb. Against your will.

"Y/n come to class, at least today, if you don't feel good then you'll be a free elf" you groaned in frustration.

"Why do I have to?"

"Because you need to get some fresh air, so now come with me, we have transfiguration"

When you got to class everyone got silent.

You sat on your new desk as a Slytherin and tried to concentrate but as the professor started the lesson, you grabbed your pen and started sketching on your notebook.

"There are rumors flying around the school. Someone said you and Draco were friends with benefits, some said you were dating but he was using you." None of these were true and Deneb knew that, but she still decided to tell you, after she saw your, almost, scared face.

And even though it wasn't consciously, you soon realized you you were drawing Draco.

At the end of the last clas, in the afternoon, your notebook was filled with drawings of him, really detailed ones, that much that your tears threatened to come out. Again.

You silently made your way to Draco's dorm.

You laid on his bed inhaling his scent, and memorizing it. You'd never see his face again.

You opened your notebook and traced the shape of his head with your finger.

You took out a pen from your pencil case and wrote on the drawing: " hope you're doing good up there ♡" as if he could see it, and after ripping the page you put it on his pillow.

When that night Deneb asked if you wanted to sleep there, you obviously said yes.

That lasted for a few days until, three days later you woke up and didn't find the piece of paper with his face in it.

When you fell asleep on that bed everything bad that happened to you disappeared.

And when you woke up you were actually feeling better.

You panicked, it was your favourite drawing. So you frantically searched under the pillows, under the blanket. But nothing was there.

"I look good in this Y/n/n" you heard a voice and you gasped, at the sound of Draco's familiar voice.

"Wha-"

"Hello, Y/n" Draco suddenly appeared from the shadows. He noticed your puffy eyes and bags under your eyes.

"What are you?! A ghost or something?" You asked widening your eyes.

"I'm Draco, with bones and all" he laughed, even if his eyes were full of fear.

"Is it really you? But you died!" You shot up.

"It's me Y/n/n, Snape knew the spell and healed me, but not entirely so they kept me hidden until they were sure I'd survive." He explained.

"A bird told me you missed me" he continued walking extremely close to you.

"I- I surely did, you were- are my friend" you blushed heavily.

" I'm sorry for everything I did, I hate myself for everything, and something happened.. I - refused to kill Dumbledore but-" he interrupted himself starting to sob.

Your confused expression almost scared him.

"Snape killed him, it's my fault I-" you didn't let him finish ignoring the sadness and smashed your lips onto his.

You fell on the bed, but he continued to kiss you almost roughly.

As you pulled away he smiled.

"I like you Y/n, but I'm not a goo-"

His eyes filled with happiness for the first time in years as you smiled.

"Stop! You are the fucking best person I've ever met!" You exclaimed punching his chest.

"Don't you feel ashamed of a death eater?" He asked, remembering when he'd showed you his tattoo.

"No, as long as you're safe"

"Do you mind if I kiss you again?" In response you kissed him, again, softly this time.

As your lips moved together until you saw the door fly open.

"Are you done sucking faces? Lunch is ready" Deneb teased before walking away again.

"I like you so much Y/n. Would you uhm- goonadatewithme?" He asked, his voice trembling a little.

"Of course Drakey"

"Don't call me that"

"Shut up. I love you dork"

#draco x y/n #draco x you #drama #draco malfoy #draco x reader #one shot #draco one shot #i'm going insane #fuck you tumblr

[flowercoasts]

since seventeen, the kids i’ll never be - a beau gen fic

The Mighty Nein pass through Kamordah and Beau wants to close old wounds.

Read on AO3, or 

NOTES: implied/referenced child abuse, justice and catharsis for beau

words: 5634

~~~

“We’ll pass through Kamordah then.”

Beau freezes, the ball bearing she was playing with instead of paying attention nearly slipping through her fingers as she tenses, her mind racing a mile a minute.

Jester, standing next to her, lays a hand on her arm. “Are you okay?”

Everyone turns to look at her. Why does everyone love being nosy? Beau wishes the ground would open up or a dragon would come flying by. She swallows. Her throat is much too dry. “Yeah.” That was raspy as fuck. Beau clears her throat, plasters on her usual half-smirk. “Yeah, just was surprised, is all. This fucker -“ Beau gestures to the ball bearing in her palm. “Nearly dislocated my… knuckle.” It’s a lie. A shitty lie at that. From the looks on everyone’s faces, no one believes her either.

“Will you be okay,” Fjord starts calmly, a look of concern painted into the downturn of his lips, “with us going into your hometown?”

Jester and Nott suck in a breath at the same time and let out little “Oh”s that make Beau feel like hitting something. Not them. Well, maybe Nott, but not Jester. She just really hates being fucking pitied and looked at the way they’re looking at her now, though.

She grits her teeth. “Look. It’s not a big fucking deal. I couldn’t give two shits.” Short and sharp. Caduceus frowns at her tone and Fjord holds his hands up placatingly. Beau sighs, runs a hand through her hair, trying her damndest to ignore Jester’s puppy eyes and Nott’s more-than-slightly disapproving glare. “... Sorry.”

Caleb approaches slowly and smiles at her with so much apprehension that just seeing his awkwardness hurts her. “Beauregard, we do not have to go.”

“There are many paths that lead to the same destination, Ms. Beau.” Cadences sips calmly from his tea, his voice a distant afterthought. “This one happens to be the fastest, but sometimes the fastest things are not the best.”

“Ye-ahhh… what Caduceus said,” Fjord mutters with a side-eye and a raised eyebrow.

Jester touches Beau’s elbow fleetingly, drawing her attention away from concerned gazes to wide purple eyes. “We won’t judge you. Not for anything. You know that - right, Beau?” Beau dryly swallows, her eyelids fluttering briefly at the memory of rougher grips on her arms, the disapproving frowns, the ugly sneers of a disappointed father.

She clears her throat. “Uh, yeah. Yeah.”

“Are your parents.. awful people?” Nott questions. Her ears are more alert than Beau’s seen in a while.

It’s slightly weird that it’s Nott who knows the most about Beau and not Caleb or Jester or Fjord, but Beau’s not one to knock another for being nosey and inquisitive. From being a nosey person herself, Beau thinks it’s respectable, if nothing else.

She bites her lip and thinks back to an unhappy childhood - remembering everything from the number of places she left her name etched into old wood to the unrelenting yells of her father. He was never happy with her, no matter how hard she tried. So she stopped trying. Their relationship got worse from there, while all Beau’s mother did was watch uncaringly. She was a bad child. Beau knew that. So yeah, she might’ve given them a hard time and yeah they might’ve caused her emotional trauma to last a lifetime but seriously, it could’ve been worse. Right?

“No,” Beau says finally. Her voice wavers. “I was just a… difficult child.”

Something lightens in Nott’s eyes, like a weight lifted off of her shoulders just by that one sentence. Beau doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or sick. There’s no clear reason to feel sick, though, and it seems stupid to feel that way, so Beau forces herself to feel relieved instead. God, it’s like she’s fucking five. Kamordah sucks. This whole mission sucks.

“Why do we have to go through Kamordah?” Beau finally saunters up to the table in the middle of the war room, finding herself a spot in between Fjord and Caleb while Caduceus pours more tea for everyone on a spot on the table not taken up by the map of the Empire. She glances to the weather-worn yellow paper and finds the image of Kamordah circled in a horribly bright pink ink. It makes her shiver in disgust.

Before she can comment her dislike of the implementation of pink ink on the map, Caleb answers her question. “Well, we need to find Lonardo. He lives just near Kamordah.” He guides her gaze to a point on the map with his finger. “Here. Brightburn Hollow.”

“Oh, Bright Slag? I know that place.”

“You do?” Fjord leans forward in interest.

“Oh yeah.” Beau grins cockily. “I had so many good times there. Used to be a frequent criminal hangout but after the city tightened its leash on patrols it was mostly used for secretive meetings and the occasional fight.”

“And I’m guessing you were a part of them?”

“Of fucking course.”

“Ye-up.”

“So, Beauregard, to answer your question,” Caleb cuts in as Beau’s smirk in Fjord’s direction turns a little too mischievous for his liking, “This Lonardo lives only a 30 minute walk from your former hometown. If it is alright with you, we will be making a short pit stop in Kamordah.”

Beau remembers clenched teeth and stinging slaps and thrown away art projects. She remembers the cutting of hair, the never quite fitting in, the darkness of her room. Beau remembers it all and feels a dull ache in the center of her stomach. By Ioun, she just wants to lay down.

“What the fuck are we waiting around here for then, let’s get a move on!”

~~~

“Ugh,” Beau groans, flipping over onto her stomach and for the fifth time in the past hour: “Are we there yet?”

“Asking every ten seconds doesn’t change my answer,” Fjord calls back from the front the same time that Caleb answers, “30 minutes.”

Beau lets out a long-suffering groan and bangs her head down extra hard on the bumpy wooden floor of their magic cart. Jester nudges the monk’s limp arm with the point of her tail.

“Ow,” Beau mumbles against the wood, not seriously.

Jester nudges her again, this time harder. “Beauuu,” She sing-songs. Beau groans. Another jab, this time at Beau’s side.

“Ugh. Yes, Jester?”

“Why don’t we do something to pass the time?”

“... I don’t trust that wiggle in your eyebrows.”

“Aw, come on! It’ll be suuuper fun!”

“The last time you said that, the guards almost sent us to jail.”

“But there aren’t any guard around right now! And besides, I don’t want to do anything illegal, just something like reading a book like Tusk Love… or something.” The last ‘or something’ comes rushing out of Jesters mouth at the look of disgust that passes Beau’s face.

“Fine.” Beau turns over so she’s laying on her side facing Jester. “What do you wanna do?”

“What about dodge-the-arrow?” Nott pipes up, holding her crossbow aimed at Beau and grinning a little too manically for her liking.

“Uh, pass.” The crossbow lowers, much to Beau’s relief.

Caduceus peers down at Beau from his somehow-still-steaming tea and smiles pleasantly. She tries to mimic it, but her face feels too tight to be correct, so she drops the smile altogether. “When I was younger, my siblings and I would play this game whenever we had time to spare.”

At that mention, Jester shifts closer to Caduceus. “Ooooh! What game? I bet it was something really fun.” Beau questions that assumption but doesn’t say anything about it.

“Well,” Cad starts, eyes alight with reminiscence, “We would count the trees.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Beau half expects Caduceus to keep on talking. He doesn’t. A confused and crestfallen look slowly takes over Jester’s features, but she plasters on a supportive toothy grin to cover up most of the confusion. “That sounds fun, but maybe we could play something else? Just for now?”

That sets Nott and Jester off on a tangent about the best travel games, which then evolves into a conversation about the best shanties and songs and after that Beau stops paying attention. Cad gets lost too, somewhere between the dick jokes and the 88th bottle on the wall.

Instead, Beau looks out at the scenery to pass the time. The trees seem familiar. They’re not quite green during this time of the year, but their bark is still the same. Purple-brown. If they went deeper into the wood, Beau could probably find the tree that she fell out of after carving her name in one of the larger branches.

“15 minutes now,” Fjord calls back.

15 minutes. Just a handful of minutes until Beau is back in the town she spent her whole life resenting - still resents. Maybe even ten minutes after that and they’ll see Beau’s parents. Well. They don’t have to right? They’re just going to the inn, buying rooms, stocking up, and then booking it to their target.

Beau sighs, runs a hand through her hair, and stares out even harder into the passing trees. The cart bobs up and down with the bumps in the road; Beau remembers one time that giants tried invading Kamordah and tore the road up in the process. It took the city years to rebuild, and it seems that they did a poor job at it. One particularly large bump nearly sends Beau up in the air if not for Jester’s tail winding itself around her arm like a safety rope.

“Thanks,” Beau blinks at Jester.

“No problem!” Jester sticks her tongue out at Beau.

She can do this. She has her friends with her.

Her parents can’t do anything against the might of The Mighty Nein.

~~~

Tall stone towers loom above their heads as they pass through the gates of Kamordah. Beau stares at the two lion statues hanging halfway up the towers, their soulless gaze sending chills up her spine.

The guards gaze at carefully Fjord’s arm around Caleb’s shoulders as Fjord and Caleb smoothly explain their previously agreed-upon cover story. When Jester first suggested the ‘honeymoon plan’ with Caleb and Fjord acting as the happy couple, Beau was a little skeptical, but seeing the two now… well, they seem more comfortable than Beau could’ve ever guessed. She cuts a side glance to Jester, wondering if that was her plan all along. If Jester’s ecstatic grin is anything to go by, it definitely was.

One of the smaller guards comes closer to the back of the cart. The four hidden under the cart’s invisibility spell collectively hold their breath, eyes widening in fear. As the guard starts to examine the back more closely, the head guard nods to Fjord and Caleb.

“Let them pass!”

While the others quietly sigh in relief, a heavy knot forms in the pit of Beau’s stomach. The twin lion statues mounted on the wall stare mercilessly at her as they drive past. It makes her just as scared as it did when she was seven and running away from home. Those lions always made her turn back. All five times.

“- do we go?” Fjord’s voice slowly comes into focus, like a beacon slicing through the fog.

“Huh?” Beau wrenches her attention from the uncaring statues watchful eyes to Fjord’s warm golden gaze. He’s looking at her with such a concerned look it makes her stomach churn even more violently.

“Fjord was just asking where we should go, Miss Beau.”

The half-orc in question nods at Caduceus’ explanation and turns around so he’s facing forward again. “Yeah, I just figure that you’re more familiar with -“ He makes a gesture with his hand to indicate the general area.

Beau grunts noncommittal in reply and ignores Jester’s not-so-subtle nudge to her shoulder.

Caleb considers her for a moment. “Should we ask someone, then?”

Scrubbing a hand over her face, Beau sighs. “Nah, I can lead you around. I just -“ She looks out into the street, recognizing some familiar faces walking along the side of the road. Quickly averting her gaze, she clears her throat. “Take a left up ahead and we should come across Greasy Ace Tavern.”

Fjord nods and starts the horses moving again, and the cart slowly ambles down the street with soft clacks that break the morning quiet that’s settled over the thoroughfare. The atmosphere of town creeps upon Beau like a too-heavy blanket. It’s warm, sure, and it’s comforting to know they’re some of the only people up, sure, but Beau’s never known Kamordah to be quiet. It leaves a lead weight in her stomach.

Nott voices her unease before Beau can even think to. “It’s very quiet for a trading and tourist town.”

“Our guy may have something to do with that,” Beau speculates. The others nod.

“Let’s go find out then,” Fjord stops the horses, and all of them step off the cart and into the dimly lit Greasy Ace.

Beau can’t seem to shake the growing unease she feels with each second spent in Kamordah.

~~~

“We don’t have to do this.” A blue hand wraps around Beau’s wrist - a solid presence grounding her against the raging tempest she feels caught up in. Beau’s fist pauses, one breath away from knocking on the heavy wooden oak door that haunts her dreams. The brass lion knocker stares at her unflinchingly.

Another hand, this time landing on her shoulder. Beau looks back and finds warm yellow eyes. Fjord nods at her, the hand on her shoulder squeezing comfortingly. Curling around her other shoulder, Frumpkin butts his head against the underside of her chin and Beau blinks at him, seeing her reflection in his eyes. Flanked by steady walls of support, Beau steels herself, breathes in deep, and raps her knuckles against the door.

It takes only a minute or so for someone to answer, but time could not move any slower for Beau. With each passing moment, the urge to run or hide becomes more and more predominant. Beau feels a restless energy thrumming under her skin, like lightning crackling through her blood. She wants to move. She wants to run. She’s wants to -

“Welcome to the Lionett estate. What business may you have here?”

Beau jumps at the sudden appearance of a well-dressed maid in the open doorway. Dressed in fine yellow and purple fabrics, the maid stares at the group with as much disdain as Beau would expect from a worker dressed in the Lionett’s colors.

“Yah, hallo.” Caleb steps forward, posture unusually perfect and smile a little too sharp. “We’re here to do business with Mr. Lionett.”

If she’s intimidated by Caleb’s towering figure leaning towards her, she doesn’t say anything. The petite woman only narrows her eyes before nodding, once, and opening the door wider for them as she steps back. “You can wait in the sitting room. I will fetch Mr. Lionett.”

They are led through the foyer and down into a room that takes up the left side of the front of the house. Looking around, Beau is surprised to find everything just as she’d left it. Perfect, untouchable, and so very cold. The room is bathed in yellow and purple, a garish reminder of the Lionett’s very coveted social status. A lone lion bust sits alone atop the fireplace, frozen in time with a malicious roar that makes Beau avert her gaze.

While they wait, the Mighty Nein make themselves comfortable. Fjord and Caleb sit primly on the center couch, their postures picture perfect and their faces more determined than Beau’s ever seen them. Jester and Nott peruse the walls, touching everything they can get their hands on. If Beau sees Nott swipe a gold decor piece from the shelf, well. What her family doesn’t know won’t hurt them. On the other hand, Caduceus busies himself with his staff as he sits in the uncomfortable leather armchair that Beau’s always hated.

Jester’s halfway around the room in her tour when she pauses upon reaching the bookshelf. “Hey, Beau?”

“Yeah?”

“Is… is this your brother?” All the air in the room vanishes, leaving Beau cold and tense as Jester holds up a framed picture of a little boy with dark skin, blue eyes, and a wide, innocent smile. Beau can only stare at the picture, unseeing. From their seated positions, Fjord and Caleb share worried glances, eyes darting back and forth between Beau and the picture of the happy boy.

Beau wonders very briefly if the Lionett’s treat him like their only living child - if this kid is given everything that Beau was never allowed to have. “Uh. Not sure. Never met the kid.” Her voice comes out scratchy and distorted. Beau can barely remember the last time she spoke in this house.

“Where are your pictures?” Nott scampers up next to Jester, clinging to the edge of the shelf in order to see the frames on top.

Without even looking at the shelf, Beau frowns. “They probably burned them by now.”

“They wouldn’t… Would they?” Nott’s voice is small and sad. Beau doesn’t want to look at her and see the pity there, so she doesn’t. She scuffs the bottom of her boot against the hardwood floor and laughs joylessly.

“Have you met my parents? They hate me as much as I hate them, if not more. Doubt they kept anything of mine after kidnapping -“

“Beauregard.”

One word sends Beau’s mouth snapping shut. She doesn’t have to look up to know her dad’s in the room - she can tell by the feeling of dread all crashing down at once, like the ceiling’s caving in. One word and her posture is perfect, her arms no longer crossed but straight down her sides. Beau feels like she’s seven again and being reprimanded for snooping around in her father’s office. She hates it. She hates it more than anything. Hates that he still has this power over her just by saying -

“Beauregard.” It’s so quiet. Why is it so damn quiet? God, Beau wishes she would stop being such a pushover and just say something. But. Looking up at him. First step. Yes.

Beau looks up.

Mr. Lionett was never the most striking man, but what he lacked in good looks he made up for in extremely obvious symbols of wealth that he had on his person. A plethora of golden rings glitter on his fingers. Beau instinctively raises a hand to touch her cheek. He always wore a pressed purple suit, which he accented with golden detail. Now is no exception to that expectation. It’s so fucking gaudy. Everyone in Kamordah already knows the Lionetts, there’s no reason to flaunt your status like Mr. Lionett did. It makes Beau want to look him in the eye out of spite.

She gets up to seeing his yellow tie. For some reason, her eyes don’t let her move an inch further, instead fixated on his ugly yellow patterned tie that Beau remembers trying to ruin so many times. That tie got her in trouble. She hates that tie.

“I didn’t realize you would be back so soon.” He doesn’t even try to hide his sarcasm and disdain, that prick. “I shall have the help fetch Mrs. Lionett.” The maid from earlier, standing at attention in the corner, simply turns and leaves the room.

The silence is choking. Beau can’t look anyone in the eye - not her father and especially not her friends. She feels too weak, too vulnerable to face any of them. They’ve killed demons and devils, and her father is the thing that has her scared? Beau can just hear the taunts now. Weak. Pathetic. Embarrassing.

Not good enough, Beauregard. Never good enough.

Soon enough, or maybe not soon enough, the maid returns with a taller woman in tow. Beau averts her gaze from the yellow tie long enough to spot Mrs. Lionett in all her ugly-dress glory, frozen in the doorway of the sitting room, expression the picture of comical surprise. If Beau weren’t so damn freaked out she’d definitely be laughing.

“Beauregard! What a pleasant surprise.” Mrs. Lionett glides into the sitting room and comes to a stop next to Mr. Lionett. Beau hates her casual tone, but that was Mrs. Lionett for you. Always the one to keep up appearances, even more so than Mr. Lionett. Beau resented her for it almost as much as she resented being born into this awful family.

From somewhere near the trophy case, Nott whistles quietly. It’s more like an ‘oh wow’ whistle than anything else, and it almost makes Beau snicker. Almost. If Mr. and Mrs. Lionett notice it, they don’t comment.

Beau’s fists clench as she stares at the two of them, standing side by side like the two brick walls they always were to Beau. It feels like an open wound, with them standing emotionless and picture perfect. She’s taut like a wire, waiting for them to say something - expecting them to snap at her, maybe. The least they can do is say something. Does Beau even want them to say anything? Her eyes flicker back to Mr. Lionett’s yellow tie, gaze going no further. There’s a wrinkle in his tie. Beau doesn’t remember if he has wrinkles around his eyes, too.

“Did you need something?” Mr. Lionett’s voice is clear, mechanical. It’s his business-transaction voice, but it’s also the voice that he uses whenever he has better things to do than talk to his daughter. Maybe they’re the same voice.

Gods dammit Beau, get it together. The Mighty Nein need this to work. They need information, don’t let him get into your head. Get it together. Look him in the eye. Do it.

She stares at the yellow tie.

The silence stretches on uncomfortably as the Mighty Nein shift in their positions around the room, their gazes carefully flicking between an extremely tense Beau and the unmoving Lionetts.

Mr. Lionett sighs loudly from his mouth, sort of nasally and low. “I don’t have time for this.”

He takes one step backwards, turning halfway to face the foyer and leave.

“Wait.” Fjord’s careful accent curls around the single syllable like he’s afraid to break the silence, but knows they need something from the Lionetts so he continues on anyways.

Mr. Lionett turns around to face them with one raised eyebrow. His upper lip is curled in disdain. Still standing in front of Beau with a passive look on her face, Mrs. Lionett purses her lips at the intrusion. It seems neither of them expected Fjord to speak.

“Yes?”

Fjord gulps audibly, and Beau cringes. The Lionetts were never fond of non-human races, and it seems that fact is still true. When she was younger, Beau had a tabaxi classmate who she’d hang out with around the river. It didn’t take long for the Lionetts to take control over that situation - Beau never saw her friend again. Dammit, she should’ve told the Nein about this. She’s fucking it up before they’ve even started talking; she should’ve known this would happen. Beau feels the phantom grip of a hand on her wrist, squeezing too tight. Her arms are lead weights. Her blood is solid.

You’re a disappointment, Beauregard. Not good enough. Why do you let us down every time?

Fjord and the Lionett’s conversation is white noise, all droning on in the background. Beau’s nails dig into the meat of her palm as her breaths grow shorter and more harsh. White noise pounds in her eardrums, her vision centering all on one point - the yellow of Mr. Lionett’s tie has never looked so garish and loud before. It’s so bright. It’s mocking. Beau feels unsteady, floating. She’s 7 now, and standing in front of her father while he works. Shoulder’s straight, head lowered. No eye contact. These hands aren’t hers anymore.

Her father, her father. He would say nothing. He would do work. Then he would leave. The office would go dark. Beau would stand there, alone.

Her mother sometimes passed by the office, peering in. She would say nothing. She would close the door. Sometimes, she laughed. Mostly, she didn’t pass the office at all. Her heels would echo down the hall anyways.

A hollow feeling - starting deep in the center of her chest, expanding outwards. Beau knew it well back then, and it fueled her fear, her anger, her drive to leave her home as soon as possible. That feeling faded over time, but never went away. The Mighty Nein were great at that sort of thing; they made Beau feel less empty, and even made her forget what it felt like at times. That hollow feeling creeps back, slowly.

An open wound.

An empty room.

A hand, lightly brushing against her wrist. A light touch, nothing more than a whisper of skin but to Beau it’s the anchor she needed to back away from the storm of emotions she feels. She turns to look, and Jester is standing beside her, having made her own way around the room to offer support. Nott peeks out from behind Jester, her eyes endlessly wide and unbelieving as her ears twitch to every derogatory intonation in Mr. Lionett’s voice.

Turning from Nott’s concerned gaze lands her staring directly into Jester’s purple eyes, hardened with worry and a little bit of anger. The pure fury in the tiefling’s eyes is hard to look at, even if Beau is proud at her to displaying her anger so openly.

Beau strains to pay attention to her surroundings as she faintly registers the murmurs dying down to silence, charged with a certain quality that Beau is unable to parse out because she wasn’t paying attention. She’s not sure she wants to turn and find out, but she needs them to know. She needs to know for herself too.

Turning around, Beau finds the rest of the Mighty Nein staring daggers at her Mr. Lionett. It doesn’t take much for her to realize that Mr. Lionett probably said something extremely biting and discriminatory - Beau’s intimately familiar with that type of language from him. Fjord has his eyes narrowed dangerously and his face is tense, a big difference from his usual calm demeanor. Next to him, Caleb has his teeth bared in a predatory grin. Caduceus, who stood up sometime during Fjord’s negotiations, has his hand placed placatingly on Caleb’s shoulder in an attempt to control the situation, but upon further inspection, Beau notices that his own eyes are hardened and cold.

Seeing all of her friends, ready to strike, sets something at ease in Beau. These people have her back; whether its facing a Hydra, defeating demonic entities, or going against her family; these people, they’re with her. That’s all she needs to steel her resolve and return her attention to her father, standing with his chin raised as he looks down at them all. His hands are carefully clenched, the fingers flexing and straining as he grits his teeth in annoyance. Normally seeing all of this would set off the alarms in Beau’s head, and cause the dread to swallow her whole.

Now, she glances back briefly at Jester, sees her icy purple glare soften momentarily as their eyes meet. Nott gives her a small nod, her green hands twitching subtly towards her back, where she hid her crossbow. Beau looks forward and sees Fjord and Caleb, expressions murderous. Caduceus catches her gaze and smiles.

A moment of clarity: If these people have her back, she can take on anything.

“Fuck you,” Beau says, voice rough and cracking like she hasn’t spoken in ages. Although, she hasn’t spoken so long in this house that maybe that’s the reason why it feels like the breaking open of an empty crypt.

Mr. and Mrs. Lionett’s turn so comically and abruptly to face Beau that the monk actually smiles. She can count on one hand the amount of times she’s surprised them, and she’s glad that this will be the last.

“Excuse me?” Mrs. Lionett’s hand goes to her throat as if she was personally attacked by the foul language.

Mr. Lionett grabs his wife’s hand. “Now, Beauregard -“

She still flinches, but it’s not enough to deter her. It’s improvement. “You heard me.”

Mr. Lionett takes a menacing step forward, hand outstretched far enough that Beau’s half sure the rings on his fingers will slide right off. At least then, they wouldn’t imprint on her face. He stops, a couple of feet in front of her.

“Don’t speak your mother and I like that.” His voice is low, threatening. It used to scare Beau on the rare occasion he would be more angry than annoyed. Now it’s funny, seeing him so riled up and knowing it’s meaningless.

“Why not?” His hand twitches. “Look,” Beau says, voice steadier now. She casts a glance around the room and finds the assured gazes of her friends. “We’re only here to find information about a guy. If you don’t have that, then fine. We’ll leave.”

Mrs. Lionett comes forward to lay a placating hand on Mr. Lionett’s shoulder. “Who is this man you seek?”

Beau wants to say, ‘classic mom, always the mediator’, but she bites her cheek and replies, “Guy named Lonardo. Know him?”

“He’s a business associate. Why?” Mr. Lionett stares at her with distrust, body still tense like a coiled wire. Good, Beau thinks, he should be careful of me.

“Because he’s a bad dude who’s done shitty things.” And, just because she can: “But you’re familiar with that, aren’t you, Thoreau.”

Maybe it was hearing his first name come out of his daughters mouth so brazenly, or maybe it was the blatant disrespect and insult. Either way, Mr. Lionett snaps and steps right up to Beau’s face, his hand coming from his side to his shoulder in an instant, stopping only just barely an inch from her face.

In response, the whole room steps forward, and the Mighty Nein ready their previously sheathed weapons. Beau can only just barely hear the scrape of metal against leather as blood rushes in her ears from her father lunging at her. She feels frozen as her heart bumps erratically in her chest, despite her willing it to calm down. All her bravado gone, the crashing waves threaten to drag her under. She goes to take a step back, but a light touch on her arm drags her to the present.

Turning to look, Jester mouths the words, ‘we got you’, to Beau, while Nott’s hand squeezes Beau’s arm reassuringly. Beau smiles at the two of them before turning back towards her father, still waiting like a snake.

“This is my family now.” For once, her voice doesn’t waver around the word, and Beau’s surprised at how right it feels, saying family after all the years of resenting it. “I love them.”

“We have her back.” Fjord meets her eyes, his own filled full of unspoken hardships of his own but also with certain depth of warmth that Beau knows she feels too.

Caleb lays a steady hand on her shoulder. “We are her family, too.”

Her heart fills, and Mr. Lionett scoffs derisively. “You expect me to -“

Beau just shakes her head nonchalantly as she cuts him off. “If you do not provide us the information, I have nothing to say to you.”

Then, to the surprise of everyone in the room, Beau turns, and begins to walk out of the room. Behind her, the Mighty Nein begin reaming into Mr. and Mrs. Lionett, and she grins at the pure rage and indignation she hears.

She crosses into the foyer, and the lion statues at the base of the stairs don’t seem to stare at her, for once. The paintings on the walls don’t taunt her either. Everything in the house looks different, even though Beau knows that everything’s the same.

Beau only pauses when she spots something. Up the stairs, a small boy sits on the top stoop, carefully watching her. She takes a short, brief pause, to think about everything she hated about her childhood. In that moment, watching her brother stare at her with young, innocent eyes, she vows to never have her brother experience the same.

“I’ll be back.” Beau promises. She contemplates going up the stairs to introduce herself - it’s her brother for crying out loud. But…

She nods at the brother she has never met, and opens the door to step outside.

~~~

The road home is quiet, but not in the way that hurts Beau the way she’s used to. In this quiet, Jester interlaces her fingers with Beau’s. Caleb settles a hand over her shoulder as Frumpkin purrs genially in her lap. Fjord hums a soft shanty while he drives the cart. Caduceus makes tea in the back. Nott is fiddling with Beau’s hair as she tries to braid flowers in the monk’s hair. Beau’s sure that if Yasha were here, she’d be helping Nott braid her hair too.

Beau’s thankful, in that moment, for the kind of silence she knows that only her family could achieve. It brings out a calm and clarity within Beau that she never associated with the quiet before, after a whole childhood of her own quiet moments filled with dread and anxiety.

She thinks of how successful the meeting with her father was. She thinks of how the Mighty Nein defended her to the bone. Most importantly, she thinks of a little boy with blue eyes and brown skin that just learned he has a sister.

That promise she made to her brother was genuine. Although her hands still shake in the Lionett house, and although just hearing her father's name fills her with inescapable dread, Beau feels lighter than ever. It feels like hope. As Caduceus would say, it’s progress.

#my writing #mine #elena talks #I FINISHED IT YALL YEEHAW #beau #beauregard lionett #fanfiction #critical role #this was in my drafts for SO LONG

[mentalcurls]

5. Cosa ti eccita?

Episode 5, we’re almost halfway throught the season! This time I talk about that thing Martino says, mother-daughter relationships and my journey to empathizing with Edoardo Incanti (for now) as well as the results of the Bechdel test for this episode, of course!

this episode start so nicely: Martino talking shit about each and every one of Eva’s friends

he manages to be racist, sizeist, a slut shamer, classist and sexist and misogynist all in one sentence with this lovely bunch of derogatory definitions; plus he’s an asshole in general and unsupportive of Eva

Elia is right there with him laughing at all that, probably Peccio is too, Gio maybe cracked a smile, but don’t think for a second that anything but Eva’s face and the thought of the conversation they need to have held him back (I’d like to take this opportunity to remind y’all Gio in this remake isn’t as interested in politics as Jonas is in the og)

this is , from what I read online (I only watched S1 months after it aired), one of those scenes that made people angry and I can see why. It wouldn’t have been enough for me to stop watching, but I get why some people did. I do agree that a scene like that shouldn’t not bother you. I am angry that things like the ones Marti says are accepted without comment, that nobody taught him better, that none of the characters have been taught better, much less better enough for any of them to shut Marti up and confront him about the shit he just said; Eva knows it’s wrong, but she doesn’t even try to explain why to him, because she doesn’t have the words to and she feels like it’s be pointless. Eleonora might have been able to confront him and shut him up with one of her vitriolic answers, but it would have been met most likely with “Oh, burn” comments by the other guys. It’s what it’s like in Italy and I don’t think a show that has professes to be as realistic as possible should be attacked for portraying the realistic comments dumb, ignorant boys make or for not forcing a scene when one of the characters is suddenly knowledgeable and eloquent enough to confront all the issues in Marti’s statement. This are 16 years old. I’m Italian and I was “woke”-ish at 16, kept up with politics even, but I don’t think I’d have been able to to it. What Skam Italia did, in my opinion, to counteract Martino’s words in this scene, is show us that his definitions are false, narrow-minded and based on prejudice by giving us an in into these girls lives. No-one can watch Skam and believe Marti’s words. Unfortunately, in a realistic show set in Italy, that’s all we can ask for.

this is also one of the first times we hear Marti discuss girls with the guys and it projects me straight to ep.1 of S2, when we have the “buste di piscio” comment. For all we love our baby deer Martino Rametta like it’s our collective firstborn and we would die for him, he’s a misogynistic fucker sometimes; thankfully by the end of S2 he’s grown up quite a bit (and I hope and pray that the combo of Filippo, Sana and Niccolò will make him grow even more by the next time we see him).

on a lighter note, IL PECCIO IS IN THIS SCENE, IN THE FLESH!

“Tell me what’s the problem” “I don’t have a problem” “Eh, me neither” YEAH guys, that’s why you’re so warm and affectionate

Giovanni, you hypocrite. You complained you don’t want to be one of those couples that are attached to the hip and you acted like Eva was always bothering you, so you told her to make friends; now she has friends, she’s stopped always catering to you and only you, and you’re gonna act mad? You wanted your cake, honey, now eat it!

so is that “You can stay, the guys are gonna go in a bit” thing Gio trying to build a bridge or him beginning the prep for the lie about wanting to go to dinner with Eva’s parents and then bailing on them to get back at her? On one hand, I don’t want to believe my dear Giovanni Garau would do that, on the other this particular set of circumstances with Eva brings out some of his worst traits

ok, I understand Eva and Eleonora want to know why Sana got mad and threw her drink at Laura to empathize with her properly, since they also are not her biggest fans, but their being really oblivious to Sana’s loud “stop bothering me!” signals

“I had to run away like an idiot thanks to you” actually, Silvia, he left you there like an idiot, while he went to be “the big bad man of the house who will solve all the problems” (btw was the house even his? wasn’t it Chicco Rodi’s party, why was it at Edoardo’s place?)

anyways, the reason Silvia is so mad is because what Sana did is so far from the prim and proper, low-maintenance girl Silvia is trying to be, in Edoardo’s eyes especially, and she’s terrified he’s gonna lump her in with her friend, who’s already difficult enough on her own because she insists on being different

aaaaand Silvia goes for the racist insult; at least this time the other girls tell her to calm down and Ele seems pretty ready to give her a piece of her mind, though she stops at the last minute cause she seems to think that while Silvia is this mad she’s a lost cause

SILVIA ACTUALLY GOT A TEXT instead of sending one, Sana would almost be proud

YAS SKAM ITALIA GIVING INFORMATION ABOUT CONTRACEPTIVES

I mean, sex ed is not bad about sexual health and contraceptives here but it’s always good to show “actual” kids being careful

of course, they’re only half careful, given that they’re thinking of unwanted pregnancies, while ignoring the very real risk of venereal diseases, given that they’re talking about unprotected sex with a boy who’s notoriously promiscuous

still, I want to stress how this is a conversation between girls only; the “burden” of thinking about contraception always falls on girls’ shoulders: Silvia doesn’t think for a minute Edoardo might bring and not mind using a condom and just knows she’s the one who needs to be worrying about contraception; Eva took the pill and is now using the ring so we know she’s the one who’s been taking care of contraception in her relationship with Gio, too. It takes two to tango ladies, so why the fuck do we excuse male half of the couple from this part of sex??

honestly, it’s midday so Eva should get out of bed, but that piece of crostata isn’t the kind of thing I’d wake up for

oh, what a beautiful mother-daughter relationship! I’m kidding, but also not. It’s obvious Eva’s mum is not at home much, but she makes an effort to be there as much as she can: she keeps up with her grades, she badgers Eva so she’ll study and when she has some free time even offer to revise together, she brings her breakfast in bed, she’s there to listen when Eva confides in her. She probably feels bad she’s not up to date with Eva’s personal life and guilty that she’s not there for her daughter as much as she wants to be. And Eva screams at her like a proper teenager, but then she does a beautiful thing and actually apologizes, saying the words “I’m sorry”, and despite still lying she tells her mom a bit about herself (sure, there’s external pressure for her to do so in the form of Gio and of her new friends who want to come by her place, but still), she opens up, she communicates, which is really good cause she seems to have good parents, who for example don’t freak out at the mention of a boyfriend but ask her first and foremost if she’s happy

and Eva, what’s the point of saying “Yes, I’m happy” and looking anything but? You be thankful your mom takes it for embarrassment, cause you were not convincing

aaaand Gio hasn’t gotten any lately because of the fight so he’s horny, cute

Gio meets Eleonora! And it’s absolutely uneventful, but then again, it would be: even considering Marti’s classification, she’s not the weirdest and she’s the least interesting out of the girl squad to Gio, cause he’s already getting some, so he doesn’t care that she doesn’t put out

what is interesting is Gio’s worried face when the free clinic gets mentioned: dude, if maybe you were more involved in contraception and collaterals in your own relationship, then maybe your first reaction wouldn’t be worry

the “Prima volta?” lady cracks me up (also, in case anybody doesn’t know, she’s the same person that asks Marti if Nico’s bottle of antidote is a bomb in S2 ep. 7 and - I’ve read somewhere - the stylist of the series)

when Silvia huffed and looked put out at the mention of the clinic on the bus, I was unsure whether it was a fear thing or a “tsk, plebeians” thing, but it appears she’s genuinely scared: girl, why? I get being embarrassed, uncomfortable, but she’s more nervous than if she was taking the maturità exams

Silvia is not mad at anybody, much less Sana, because good, low-maintenance girls don’t get angry, don’t cause commotions, they’re graceful and compassionate and forgiving and nuisances simply don’t exist for them

the doctor is actually so helpful! in the og she was 99% comic relief, 1% actually helpful, but this doctor is nice and warm and encouraging

Silvia’s terrified/disgusted face when presented with a dildo, that’s not a girl who looks ready to have sex

at least Fede seems puzzled but interested

Silvia just seems so dumb in this scene: she doesn’t speak for herself, she is absolutely floored when faced with a sex toy and a condom, she seems to think that taking the pill for to days actually works as contraception, she doesn’t think of asking Eva to use her home to meet up with Edoardo before telling him yes... tbh she almost looks like she’s a bit drunk

still, she just knows how to manipulate people to get her way. She even brings the doctor on her side.

“Do you think it’ll hurt?” considering how unsure and worried you are, YES

Eleonora changing topics as soon as her sex life is brought into question 😏 but also, her lost face when Eva says sex shouldn’t hurt except maybe a bit at the beginning

THANK YOU ELEONORA SAVA FOR SAYING THE IMPORTANT THINGS THAT NEED TO BE SAID

the disgusted face Silvia makes at the word “turned on”???

ok, how good is it to see girls in media talking about sex and about their fantasies without any shaming whatsoever? (The comparison between getting turned on by clothes and animals played for comedy is a bit unfortunate, but imo it doesn’t ruin the positive, accepting mood of the scene)

*Regina George voice* Silvia, stop trying to make jello happen!

ok, so, my secondhand embarrassment levels are always through the roof during this scene

look how taken aback Eva’s mom looks when she sees Edoardo! He definitely looks nothing like the third year boy she pictured when she imagined Eva’s boyfriend, I mean, she was thinking more along the lines of Laura’s boyfriend, that nice boy Giovanni she’d met that one time…

oh, but poor Edoardo too, he’s planning for a one night stand and suddenly he has to deal with parents?? This was not the plan. Does this annoying, kind of pretty girl who wants to sleep with him think he’s her boyfriend or something? What a nightmare. Oh, wait, she’s not even here, is she toying with him in a misguided attempt at playing hard to get? Wait, she wanted him to go to dinner with her parents? Is this some kind of prank? Did he get the wrong house? WTF

AND THE DAD ARRIVES OH GOD when fathers get involved the situation usually escalates, you can feel Edoardo going “Nope. Nope. Think, Edo. Get out of this NOW.”

ok, the redhead he vaguely remembers from the party, great, now can she explain him what’s going on? No, she’s telling him he needs to leave and slamming the door in his face. (Also, first appearance of the boss Eva we see at Silvia’s 80s party in S2, hello gorgeous!)

and Silvia is hiding on the stairs. Which is cute and not at all “sfigate allucinanti”-like (see ep.3). Just like telling a guy to come over but not at your actual place isn’t. It’s fine having to ask your friend to borrow her place, having to sneak in, having sex in a house you don’t know and where you need to be careful not leave signs of your presence, on the bed where your friend sleeps, with her photos on the wall, her knick-knacks on the shelves, her clothes in the closet. It’s totally cool. Even when the guy you’re having sex with is polite and gets there a few minutes early, so he accidentally meets your friend’s parents and nearly panics and definitely learns this is not your place, you know, that’s stuff that happens and it’s absolutely cool. He just calls you crazy.

so really, I never thought I’d see the day, but I empathize with Edoardo Incanti and I understand him ghosting Silvia (not the whole “Who are you again?” conversation, just the ghosting) because she’s clearly in too deep, he’s know that since her first string of texts, and she’s doing borderline creepy things like borrowing her friend’s house to have sex in? And Edoardo is not interested in a girlfriend, much less a stalker, so he just goes for the path of least resistance and disappears, hoping she’ll get over it soo. (Except of course she doesn’t and she confronts him, so really, what’s the best way not to give her any stupid hope? Being cruel. And that’s what he does.)

back to Eva, Gio cancels and Eva TURNS HIS OWN “Non ho parole “ BACK ON HIM how wild

side note, I honestly really really would have wanted to see Paola’s reaction when, at some point, Eva tells her she was dating Giovanni; I just can’t decide what she’d think

Bechdel test: the episode passes the test. We have Eva and Ele pestering Sana about the fight at the party, then the two of the and Silvia discussing the pill, the conversation about Sana’s father’s patient’s restaurant outside the gyno’s office at the clinic and finally there’s a good 75% of the conversation in Eva’s bedroom, between Silvia, Ele, Fede and Eva herself, that actually passes the test. There’s just a couple of mentions of Edoardo in the middle.

This post is part of my complete series of meta about Skam Italia season 1.  If you’d like to read more of my thoughts about the other episodes, you can find the mastepost linked in the top bar on my blog under SKAMIT: EVA. Cheers!

#skam italia #skamit meta #eva brighi #martino rametta #giovanni garau #skamit s1 #paola brighi #silvia mirabella #edoardo incanti #federica cacciotti #eleonora sava #sana allagui #elia santini #eva's mom #skamit #eva's dad #giorgio brighi #a. writes #1x05 cosa ti eccita?

[thevulernablepreacher]

It’s Sunday. I’v been in my new home since 7/23. Im a completely different person than I  was 3 months ago. I”m using the last time I attended my public speaking group session as a barometer.

I’m supposed to go back in a couple of weeks and all I can think is that I have traveled around the universe several times since then. I don’t want to go back b/c it feels heavy to me. I feel defensive.

They’re the most loving group of women. I just want them to know though without having to tell them, how different I am; how much stronger I am.

My foot is in an orthopedic shoe boot.. b/c I did something really stupid. My big toe had healed after being fractured and then sprained and now it’s sprained again. 

So I have a lump in my throat b/c it hurts and b/c im scared. The thought passed through my mind this morning that I guess by December it will be healed. I hope so. I’m also scared that b/c its the third time in the row I have no idea how long it will take to heal. I sprained it on 8/8, while in the therapy pool for my ankles it’s excruciating to write that, let alone admit it at any point in time. I did it to myself. 

I was told that the big toe represents anger. Well, yes I have a fuck load of that. I don’t know really how to release anger.

A friend of mine and I randomly text each other things we hate that are ridiculously humanizing and true and beyond cathartic to text about. Yesterday my texts were: I hate married people, I hate couples. She is hilarious and texted back: I hate married people too. She is married.

She then wrote the exact text that was in my mind: “I hate women with perfectly defined thighs that do nothing to achieve them.”

That’s probably my next #1 thing I want to text about daily.

I was in choir the other night and im 1000% sure that of EVERYONE in choir practice was thinking the same thing in reaction to one of the members. She is small; petite. She has amazingly perfect small petite person, muscular legs. She was wearing very short shorts. The kind of shorts that 10 year old’s wear. I was deeply uncomfortable and self-conscious and jealous in a way that only God would intend so that I could work through something and arrive at some divine place of never feeling the need to compare my flabby, vein ridden, falling to my ankles, thighs, as I do, daily. Those thighs were a gift to me to let go of my nostalgia for my former thighs; the thighs I NEVER appreciated, the thighs I railed against from the age of 15.

When I was 16 (and this is not at all what I intended to write about) my mother walked into the living room of our rented condo in Queche Vermont. I was lying on the couch reading the Memoir of a Geisha. She lay down on the floor and lifted her exposed legs in the air and said, “Look at my thighs. They are falling. You have ...can’t remember what she said, but “your thighs don’t o this.”

I can’t imagine that this insanity needs analysis here. But can you fucking believe that a 50 something year old woman would say this to her 16 year old daughter?

That was my mother in all her tortured glory. That was my role model. I grew up in a house of mirrored walls and walk-in closets. Ugh I don’t want to write about this. it’s too depressing.

So let’s talk about now. I’m sitting her, deeply lonely. I had the BEST job yesterday. I LOVE to work. I love before and after. I love my work.I really do. There is no better feeling than getting paid in the numerous ways my work pays me. #1 I create immense relief of tension for my clients. I bring them joy. I make them laugh. And they feel like they can manage their lives again after we’re done.

Managing life is a mother fucker. I have zero idea how to do it. I do know when I get overwhelmed that this will change. Just trust. I have to remind myself to return to this.

My new home is quite magical. It’s also a giant clusterfuck and needs a ton of work that I have zero idea how to really proceed with. I can hear my upstairs neighbors breathe. I have to re-do windows blinds (fucking expensive). I have to insulate ceiling.OMFG! Thousands.

Decorating is a blast!!! I knew I loved design but had no idea what I could unleash in myself once I owned my own home. It is mind blowing. 

I want to buy the whole house, cut off the top two floors, create a stunning eco paradise for myself. I want to blow out the back wall and open my home onto the really cool and beautiful back yard garden; already a small oasis of beauty and magic.

I want to trash the nasty exterior and replace with shingles. I want to create vaulted ceilings that shower my with light. I want to  redo bathroom so I can actually sink into a tub. Currently the tub could fit a 5 year old; maybe a small 10 year old. Definitely not a 5′ 8″ (yes, exaggerated for my own well being) adult ( I use that term loosely).

I’m emotional. FUCKING emotional. Every response is emotional, always. I have a 52 years of life experience so I know that about myself.

I know nothing about handy person shit. That makes me crazy. I have all the ability and also the fear. I don’t know how to do this and that and that and that. I want everything done NOW.

My business is building I think..I really think it is. I see writing BIG invoices in my near future and that’s very exciting. I LOVE the idea of managing big projects. 

I had to make this move myself to see how well I manage them. I love managing the move process and the setting up an settling in and connecting to all necessary to connect to to get shit done process.

I have one new big client coming up. she actually told me she wanted to give me a retainer and we’d work off of that. That was thrilling. She’s a wonderful human; beautiful; a queen truly. A soulful beautiful human. So it’s a massive gift and joy and honor and I'm really excited about the bigness of it all. 

I also have a new level of care for myself and what I do not know. I know it’s okay. I don’t have to pretend I know anything. What I know is that I can figure anything out. I’m deeply resourceful and creative and outside of the box thinking and capable beyond what I ever realized. 

Everyone knows this about me. I’m JUST beginning to see it.

My new home is a mix of free (from FaceBook Free page), Craigslist, sleuthing, Etsy, Amazon. It’s sooo much fun. 

I ended up with a gorgeous new couch and chair and ottoman and chaise for 1/2 of original price due to delays and my constantly asking for more off..they oblige each time. 

Sleuthing and clearance are a blast and deeply fulfilling. 

Honestly it’s all a profound profound gift. 

My health is better than ever and will continue in this direction. I have my set backs but I really do feel better than I have in 8 years. That’s incredible. 

When I have both feet working I will be in complete nirvana. And I will remind myself of that when I get there and am hit with the next something big I have to deal with.

I’m going with the adage that 3 times a charm; im speaking of my toe of course.

The air in Portsmouth yesterday blew my mind. I worry that my skin and my health will fall victim to living where I do and not in some clean air nirvana. But wtf...this is my life.

I dream of owning a small vacation home somewhere..who knows.

I’m deeply lonely and I know I'm never alone. I got to swim in the pool ALONE yesterday!!! It was nirvana an of course made me fantasize about having my own beautiful salt water pool that someone else cared for, while I just enjoyed. 

I don’t think that’s my path though. I think the one I'm on is my path..Deeply insightful I know.

Being 52 and single and fickle and Emily is a thing. I know there’s a ton of people out there wishing to God they were single and not with whomever they’re with. I know there’s maybe less people out there that are truly content with whomever it is that they’re with. Im alone. 

I’m always alone. It’s a pain in the ass..it’s been like this for years and years and years. It may stay like this. Sometimes I think my life is in reverse. Most old people lament an face and sit with deep loneliness as everyone dies around them. I think maybe I'm just the opposite. Maybe love is coming to me later in life and it will be the most comforting, wonderful gift. 

This is what has happened for my mother. This gives me enormous hope. I think my mother; I know my mother felt isolated and alone for over 50 years. We’re quite similar in many ways so I wonder if maybe I'm being shown the bounty that is coming my way in this regard. 

I have riches beyond riches now: I have 99% of my limbs working. I live in my own home!!!!!! My neighbors are away!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!, I'm having a blast decorating. I love my business. I have so many people who love me. I have quiet and light and food and joy and all the emotions of the rainbow. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

I wrote this full genius piece in my head the other day while my ankles were being cared for by my physical therapist. I was in that awesome dream state were everything creative flows. It was gone the second I got off the table. 

This doesn’t come close, but it feels like I can breathe again. IT’s been a really long time since I've written. Thank you for this ability, this space, my keyboard, and computer and digits and mind. Thank you.

#i