#and no skin colour based explanation for it is necessary

[fdhfjdafdajfa]

ok i need to process things i read

race, rebellion, and arab muslim slavery (mcleod, 2016) argues for the existence of antiblackness in pre-islamic arabia based largely on the authority of jahili poets, who were also slaves, who wrote about their skin colour in relation to their social position

from these poets theres a gap of 200-odd years, when it skips to al jahiz, a prolific scholar known for among other things his “book of animals” which predates darwin by like a thousand years in describing natural selection

but the reason he’s in this paper is because of his On The Superiority of Blacks over Whites, in which McLeod accuses him of intentionally distancing himself from his blackness while at the same time al jahiz asserts that the arabs are in fact black, and so was the prophet, and he names several members of the prophets family who were also black

modern scholars have interpreted Superiority in a way that is all things considered pretty patronising, as a series of potentially satirical and extraordinary claims not unlike some of the more vulnerable claims of modern black nationalists, who themselves claim the text as an ideological forebear

otoh in Anyone Who Says the Prophet is Black Should Be Killed by Wesley Williams (WIP), a far more thoroughly-sourced piece it must be said, argues that the Arabs at the time of the Prophet regarded their own black skin as a sign of pure lineage, and that while they did recognise other racial types the skin differences were in luminosity rather than hue (the arabs were regarded as having smoother, more luminous skin)

willians describes all the words used in arabic to refer to different skin colours at incredible length, with citations from classical scholars fwiw, noting that some terms are used differently in describing humans than their general usage, a fact about which mcleod agrees but does not analyse in as much depth

the short version of williams’ conclusions is that he brings up a shitload of examples of descriptiions which all end up corroborating al jahiz’s

even going so far down the timeline as rumi who accuses the persians of persecuting the sayids due to their dark skin

mcleod does not provide the original terms used by the jahili poets in describing their own skin that could provide some guidance on the hue vs luminosity debate

this is markedly less scrutiny than mcleod pays to terms like “red” “green” and “blue” used to refer to lighter skinned people

williams does offer an explanation of some of the (few, as I understand it) cited examples of jahili antiblackness, noting that the man who mocked a peer for his black skin was himself also known to be dark skinned

it is a commonly known fact that the abbasid revolution was caused by the fact that the umayyads were giant arab chauvanists who never really got their minds wrapped around multiculturalism, and considered themselves a superiour racial group

mcleod doesnt talk about al jahiz much but it must be said that he was born 25 years after the abbasid revolution. as williams tells the story, the abbasids slowly but very clearly changed the ethnic dynamics of the empire over the course of a century or so, changing it to a comparatively lightly persian-dominant empire rather than an arab supremacist one

al jahiz would have been like at least 30 before he wrote anything of consequence and that’s lowballin it. meaning that he would have been around and watched this gradual de-arabisation, while also the lines between ethnic groups blended and persians became more araby and arabs became more persiany

so in this version of the story al jahiz is actually a super racist arab chauvanist especially considering he maintains the superiority of the arab blacks over the southeast african ones (zanj) which mcleod handles as internalised antiblackness but this is fallacious because it obviously presumes that all black people are the same which is not true and was not considered to be true in arabia at this time (for example ethiopians were well-respected and had had long relations with the arabs since forever (al jahiz was half ethiopian))

also mcleod agrees that white skin was also taken as a marker of low status during al jahiz’s time, although he claims not as much so as (non-arab) black skin (although again mcleod does not make this distinction assuming arabs to have been light skinned)

but regardless he was writing at a time when “pure” black arabs were being persecuted and de-statused as a matter of state policy

then williams traces the gradual de-arabisation of the prophet by the persians, then the peoples of the lands acquired from the byzantines in early centuries, then the lkhanids, then the ottomans, all of which were pretty light skinned

[saphirered]

Hi I was wondering if you would write an Essek x reader (gender neutral) where they are having a relaxing day out and the reader teaches Essek to make flower crowns, and it just allot of fluff and wholesome stuff.

Here you go! Enjoy. I really needed this type of wholesomeness. Thank you for the request. 😘

Seated among the plants and flowers at the base of the tree inside the Xhorhaus, you’re focussing on your surroundings, eyes closed. A meditation-like state keeps you grounded and aware of all around you regardless of lack of visual. Every breath you take makes you feel much lighter, floating in your own consciousness. It’s a comfortable and familiar feeling.

It could have been minutes, or hours. You’re not entirely sure but at least you know if someone needs you or you’ll be going somewhere, your friends will come get you. For now you were blessed with a moment of peace, away from the troubles of the world outside, shielded by the colourful flowers, fresh smell of herbs and the soft glow of the fairy lights.

But your peace and quiet was interrupted. Usually you’re very much aware of footsteps approaching, but when the individual doesn’t walk, taking care to avoid the greens, you’re left a oblivious to the presence. The clearing of a throat makes you nearly jump out of your skin.

“My apologies. I don’t mean to interrupt you…” You see the sheepish expression of the white haired wizard floating at a comfortable distance, turn apologetic.

“Essek!” You breathe trying to calm your pounding heart, hand to your chest.

“I am so sorry. I did not mean to scare you. I should have announced my presence.” The mixture of embarrassment and regret remain present in both his behaviour and voice as you get up and give him a once over.

“It’s quite alright. I didn’t expect any visitors.” You smile assuring him no harm was done as you get to your feet brushing off your trousers. Essek is a hard to read individual but even the most oblivious of people could tell something is off. Strange. You tilt your head pressing your lips together.

“Is everything alright? You seem a bit out of it if I’m honest.” Essek’s eyes fall to the floor in front of him trying to find the correct words to answer your question; unusual for someone usually so quick with words. You take a few steps closer to him and take his hand in yours giving it a squeeze letting him know you’re there as you wait for his reply.

“I… I am unsure how to phrase this correctly nor in an appropriate way.” He speaks caught in his own mind still. His eyes are searching still focussed on the ground and your entwined hands. You place your free hand on his shoulder, the gesture pulling him out of his head and instead focus on you.

“Try me.”

“I-. This day- These last few… weeks, have been absolute chaos. With everything going on I have not had a moment of peace in a long time.” Essek’s shoulders drop and his feet touch the ground with a soft tap muted by the mossy floor. You pity him. So young and so much pressure, people depending on him. No one should have to deal with all of that alone.

“I’ve always found diving into my work head first ignoring the world contained the chaos and turned it into order instead, something I could control but now I cannot even read a single sentence, transcribe a single equation or confront a single person without feeling like my mind is about to explode.” A weight lifts by the mere vocalising of the words, tension dropping from Essek’s physique as it does from his mind.

“I didn’t know who else to turn to. For some reason, you always have an air of calmness, around you. Whenever we are in the same space, you radiate peace. It’s strange to admit but I think even only spending but moments in your presence now has done more than any and everything I have tried to achieve even a semblance of rest.” You’re not used to Essek being so open and upfront with anyone but you’re glad for it. Knowing you can confide in someone and trust them is one thing. Actually doing so, something else entirely.

“Thank you for your time and once more my sincere apologies for scaring you. I will leave you to your business once more.” Essek is about to pull his hand from yours taking a step back but you don’t let go and step with.

“When’s the last time you’ve taken a break, Shadowhand?” You’re sure you already know the answer or have enough of an idea to estimate but you ask nonetheless. Essek thinks for a moment and frowns.

“I can’t recall.”

“There’s your problem then. You’re stressed, overworked and in desperate need of a break. Come on. I have an idea.” You lightly tug at his hand pulling him along to the base of the tree and sit him down. You take one of the garden scissors and begin cutting some flowers, branches and other things and collect them in a wicker basket as Essek watches you move from planter to planter and pots making sure to leave enough behind and take only what the plants themselves allow you to take.

It might seem a little strange to some, as you’re standing there, a nonverbal conversation with plant life. Some might think you’re crazy but you only acknowledge life in all forms and while you surely could wave your hand and restore what you took, there’s beauty in the natural order of things as your Firbolg friend might agree.

Essek watches you go in awe, studying your every action with an admiration. Before, as he admitted, there had been the radiating calmness from you that could affect those around you but watching you interact, for the lack of a better word, with the greenery, gave that a whole new meaning. Serenity. You are serenity itself.

You take the wicker basket, now filled with flowers of every colour, branches of green and brown of varying lengths, set it down at the base of the tree taking a seat next to Essek.

“What’s this for?” Essek picks up a yellow flower spinning it between his fingers.

“This,” You refer to the basket and the flower held between his fingers. “is how I clear my mind when the pressure of the world becomes too much to handle.” You take a couple of the branches, check the lengths and start twisting and weaving them together adding flowers into the coil as you go.

“This is how you keep the chaos at bay?” Essek questions watching your fingers work braiding together the delicate material.

“People often assume peace is the absence of chaos but it’s not. Nor is order. If you build a dam the pressure of the water will continue building as long as the water flows. You can’t stop it. You can’t prevent it. You can however shape it in such ways you gain more from it than it from you. It can be found in the simplest of things.” You weave in some deep red roses, your pride as the Xhorassian environment is not kind enough for them to survive.

“Whenever the world comes crashing down and I wish the ground would swallow me whole I find a place to sit down and let myself be consumed by my surroundings. Sometimes I just sit doing nothing at all. Other times I draw, or sing or write, and when I’m lucky enough to find just the right place, I’ll make as many of these as it takes me to return to my peace.” You come to the end twisting the final branches to complete the final circle shape, inspecting your work and adjusting as necessary until you deem it truly completed.

“Whenever I use the chaos to create, little by little serenity comes along and I try to bring that feeling along, passing it on to those around me, because gods know, they can use it.” The both of you smile and with a last adjustment of a flower you place the flower crown on Essek’s head.

Confusion, happiness, delight, peace. All emotions running through Essek’s brain throughout this conversation enhanced the moment you place the ornament of braided and woven flowers onto his head, as light as a feather. Who knew something so small and… insignificant could mean so much, do so much?

“Why don’t you try it for yourself? See if this works for you? Or perhaps if not, it might give you inspiration to find something that will.” Essek nods taking the red crown off his head and inspecting it closer. While he certainly has an eye for intricate patterns and structures the construction of such a thing as a simple flower crown goes far beyond him and instead just leaves him completely oblivious and confused.

Seeing Essek trying to figure out the collective of braided flowers and branches might have been one of the funniest things you’ve seen from the man. The intricacies of Dunamis and the most difficult of equations or studies prove next to no problem for the wizard, but a flower crown manages to break him? How could that not be funny. You laugh even though you tried to fight it and Essek sends you a playful glare.

“Since you seem to find this so funny perhaps I should teach you the many complexities of advanced Dunamis? As a thank you of course.” You can see the hints of a smile.

“However much I’d love that, for the sake of both of our peace and sanities, I’d hold off on that for now. We’ll start with something much simpler. Like a daisy chain.” You begin pulling out a pile of white flowers and putting them next to the basket.

“This is how you start…” You begin explaining how to loop the stem of the flower around the one that came before it, the closer together, the denser the chain will become.

While Essek struggles at first, your explanation and guiding hands and pointers as he works result in a decent looking daisy chain. You slowly work your way up to more difficult flowers and eventually the branches, spending the next several hours going through the motions, Essek’s troubles long since forgotten. This may have been the first time but won’t be the last time both of you find your serenity and comfort in colourful soft petals.

[hello-there]

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[lifeofkaze]

Home Run

Murphy McNully x Reader

 A/N: This is officially the hardest thing I’ve ever written. Jeez, baseball is complicated… I apologise for any inaccuracies, I really tried my best to understand it properly! Dedicated to @kc-needs-coffee​

Warning: NSFW, +18 only, public sex, exhibitionism, fingering, severe lack of knowledge about baseball

Word Count: ~ 2.100

To say Murphy was bored was an understatement. Not that he would have ever let it show of course; he knew just how much him accompanying you to one of your beloved baseball matches meant to you. But as his grey eyes swept the length of the admittingly impressive stadium he couldn’t deny he wished the events unfolding on the lawn below him would speed up.

He leaned back in his wheelchair and calculated the odds of the pitcher’s next ball reaching the catcher and sending the player swinging his bat in anticipation off the pitch. They were discouragingly low.

His head turned to where you were sitting next to him; you leaned towards your dad, who had managed to bag the tickets for today’s match in the first place. Both of you were enthralled by the game you shared a singular passion for, eyes fixed on the square sand pitch surrounded by the green, cone-shaped lawn.

You had swapped your usually very elegant and feminine attire for a navy baseball jacket bearing the logo of your team and a matching cap rested on your glossy curls. You even wore your team’s colours painted on your cheeks, reminding him of a different championship game you had attended together. He smiled at the thought of your face showing off the colours of your favourite Quidditch team and his smile widened as he recalled how you had celebrated afterwards, in private.

Murphy’s eyes caught the gaze of his own mother, who sat on the other side of your father, looking equally lost as he was; just like him, she had tagged along because she wanted to understand the obsession of her friend about a game she knew little to nothing about.

She tapped the man beside her on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear; he turned from his daughter and chuckled as he explained something to her, pointing to the figures on the field, waiting for the pitcher to finally get a move on and throw the ball.

And sure enough, the player with the bat hit the ball squarely, sending it flying away over the heads of his opponents as he started running around the field to score his points.

His eyes not leaving the pitch, Murphy leaned over to you, smiling at how focused you were on your favourite game.

“Just so I get this right,” he asked as your tore away your beautiful blue eyes from the pitch, “the player has to run until the others have caught the ball, correct?”

Your lips curled into a lenient smile. “Or until he reaches his home base again,” you clarified.

“Hm,” Murphy hummed in response. “And it just falls down; it won’t go flying anywhere out of its own accord.”

“No,” you answered matter-of-factly.

“So the beater literally has nothing else to do than to hit it and then run?”

“I’m delighted you remembered, babe,” you sighed. “And he’s called batter, not beater.”

Murphy made an indignant sound. “Which is not logically comprehensible; he actually beats the ball.”

“And he does so with a bat,” you shot back with a laugh.

He rested his hand on your thigh and sighed as both of you turned your attention back to the game. Although he really tried to get as excited for the sport as you were, he just couldn’t deny the main problem with it. It just wasn’t Quidditch.

A collective roar went through the stadium as the beater – batter, Murphy corrected himself – collided with one of the basemen scattered around the pitch and both fell to the ground; one of them was covering his nose as blood started seeping from it.

As the medical teams jogged onto the field, a cheery song sounded from the speakers of the stadium.

“Now, my friends, let’s spread some love!” the announcer shouted excitedly into his microphone as the big screens littered around the pitch’s perimeter were suddenly covered in a shower of hearts. “It’s time for the kiss cam!”

One eyebrow raised, Murphy turned to you for an explanation, but it wasn’t really necessary. He quickly got the drift as he saw one couple after the other appearing on the big screen, each one kissing more passionately than the one before them to the whooping cheers of the crowd.

He blinked in confusion as his own enlarged features suddenly stared back at him, while you covered your face with your hands and groaned in exasperation. A grin spread across his face as he turned towards you and pried your hands away, looking deeply into your ocean blue eyes.

“Let’s give them a show, shall we?” he whispered smugly.

Before you could object, he had cupped your cheek with his hand and pulled you close, sealing your lips with a passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck as the frenetic crowd cheered you on. He could taste the beer and lemonade you had been drinking on your lips and his heart started beating faster as heat spread inside his stomach. The blood had risen to your cheeks; you looked breath-taking with that blush only he could bring to your face and he had to fight the urge to pull you back to him for more.

Your eyes reluctantly tore away from his as the medics finished their work and the game continued; but Murphy was in no mood to concentrate on baseball anymore.

He wasn’t the only one whose body temperature had apparently risen considerably, though. You downed the remains of your drink in one go and held your cup under his nose.

“Want to get some more?”

Murphy nodded without a second thought and the two of you left your seats, heading away from the pitch. All the way over to the concession stands, you were raving about the game and how well your team was performing. He nodded absentmindedly every now and then, but wasn’t really listening. All he could do was staring at your perfect red lips and imagining how they would feel on his bare skin.

“Murphy?”

He snapped out of his not exactly innocent thoughts. “Sorry, what?”

“Were you even listening?” you chuckled.

“Sorry,” he smiled apologetically, “I got a little bit distracted.” His eyes swept over your curves he loved so much, even though the full beauty of them was hidden under your baggy jacket.

A devilish grin spread on your face. “Oh, I noticed,” you purred as you bent down to him to place another kiss on his lips, this one a lot hungrier than before.

“I don’t think I care for drinks anymore,” Murphy whispered hoarsely into your ears as you broke away from him. His eyes found the door of restroom with special accessibility they had passed before.

Your eyes followed him and your smile started to fade. “No way, babe,” you shook your head, “the restrooms are gross!”

Murphy wrapped his strong hands around your waist, nonetheless. “Not many people are allowed to use them,” he explained, “they’re typically not nearly as bad as the regular ones.”

You weren’t completely persuaded, but couldn’t deny the fluttery feeling building inside you at his firm grip on you; you could almost feel the electricity between you, even through the layers of your clothes.

“The game might be over anytime now, people will be coming down from their seats,” you tried one last time, but not with near as much objection as before.

To prove you wrong, the announcer called the new score; the other team had caught up.

It played into Murphy’s cards wonderfully. “If I remember my baseball lessons with this incredibly hot teacher correctly,” he smirked up at you, “this means we have one extra inning of incredibly tense gameplay ahead of us before anyone is going to miss us.”

Your eyebrows shot up but your smile widened as you looked your boyfriend up and down. “So you did pay attention to me.”

Murphy snorted at your words. “Of course I did; there’s nothing hotter than you getting excited about something.”

You bend down to him again and saw with satisfaction how goosebumps covered Murphy’s neck as you whispered into his ear. “Then let me show how excited I can really get.”

Without another word you turned around and started off into the direction of the restroom, your hips swaying with every step you took. You didn’t turn around to see if Murphy was following you; you knew he was.

He had been right; the restroom was surprisingly clean, absolutely not like you had expected. You were, however, past caring now.

As soon as Murphy had locked the door behind him, he whirled around to you, pulling you on his lap for a searing kiss. His forehead raised the visor of your cap and he broke contact with you to turn it around on your head so it faced backwards. As soon as he was done, his lips found yours again and you opened your mouth eagerly to welcome his tongue as it danced around your own.

You pulled on his lip teasingly as his nimble fingers quickly unbuttoned your jacket and threw it into the far corner of  the room, both of your jerseys following shortly after. He grunted with pleasure as you bit down on the exposed muscles of shoulders.

His hands found their ways to your pants, and an audible gasp fell from your lips as he undid them and slid his hand into your panties, rubbing at your already soaking clit. You raised your hips to give him better access and grit your teeth as his other hand unclasped your bra, allowing his skilled tongue to dart over your hardened nipples.

You buried your face in his blond hair as he slid two fingers into you and hooked them slightly, massaging your sweet spot until it almost drove you insane. Your hips bucked into him and you didn’t even have the time to enjoy the feeling of him finger fucking you as you felt your orgasm build already. Your release washed over you in a wave of pleasure as you buried your face in his blonde hair, intoxicated by the smell of his hairspray and desire for you.

The considerable noise you made was drowned out by the roaring of the crowd but you couldn’t care less what the commentator was announcing. Your eyes drank in the sight of Murphy before you, his grey eyes fixed onto yours, as he stroked his hardened cock, ready to chase another high alongside you.

You hadn’t even recovered from the first one yet as he pulled you down on him, groaning in delight at how tight your walls felt around him. A moan of your own escaped your lips as you dipped your head back, your hair tickling the sensitive skin of your bare back, relishing how your man filled you completely.

The two of you were such a well-practised team, you needed no words to communicate. You moved in perfect unison to the familiar rhythm of Murphy’s thrust, both of your hearts racing like mad. The air was filled with nothing but the sound of your moans and heavy breathing, the occasional cheer from the crowd still watching the game wafting over to you.

But you didn’t notice any of it. Your world had reduced to Murphy and you and your joint hunt for your release. You felt the first traces your second orgasm but you sensed Murphy needing a few more thrusts to catch up with you. So you shifted your weight slightly to an angle you knew that was driving him crazy every time.

After a few more thrusts his breath got uneven and his eyes glazed over before he buried his face into your collarbones. You let yourself go as well and shuddered as both of your orgasms shook you to the core and you screamed Murphy’s name in sweet agony.

You stayed like this for a few moments, until your hearts had stopped racing and your breath began to calm down. Murphy raised his head, placed a tender kiss on your swollen lips and wiped away your smudged face paint before lifting you off him.

You grabbed your clothes and put them on again, before turning your cap around the proper way. With a big smile you tossed Murphy his own jersey.  

“So, what do you think of baseball now?” you laughed, as you watched his brawny chest disappear behind the fabric.

“I still think Quidditch is superior,” Murphy mused teasingly and winked at you. “But I sure don’t mind those extra innings.

[mcfanely]

Nightowls

Deception (noun), an act or statement which misguides or hides the truth. 

Chapter 08 - Behind the Mask, 2541 words

The pulse of music was quickly becoming deafening. Or maybe that was the pounding feeling Cole could feel in his chest? He was a deer in headlights, and he must have looked the part too. Eyes wide, face frozen as he went through a range of emotions just to find whichever one fitted with this situation. It was something he hadn't even thought about.

It hadn't even crossed his mind for a sheer second, even with all the times he'd snuck out, all the close calls and half-baked excuses he'd had to come up with on the fly for being up really early in the morning, or sleeping in really late. 

Sure, saying he was tired and needed the sleep was the truth, but there was background. Cole was keeping so much from everyone and the idea of getting caught out and having to actually explain it all… Well, whether he'd avoided thinking about it, or it had just not occurred to him, he was now caught out and floundering. 

"... Lloyd. Hey..?" He spluttered out uselessly, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He was nervous. He didn't know what to do. There was the oppressive feeling of awkwardness in his own skin as he took stock of himself. Lloyd had been there, and he'd seen. "I-- Uh, you know, it's not really what it looks like, you know? I mean, it's late," Cole trailed off after a second, one foot tapping heavily against the floor. Any sound was drowned out by the next song beginning. 

Lloyd was still standing there, right in front of him, his eyes slowly flicking over Cole for a second before they moved to glance over the Earth Master's shoulder, presumably to the new dancer that was now performing. 

He just looked calm, and extremely interested in what was going on. The guy may have looked a bit odd, dancer wasn't anyone first thought when looking at Lloyd, mainly because the left feet that the kid possessed was probably the worst case Cole had ever seen. He was fairly lanky, bobbing slightly off beat to the music, but Cole wasn't going to correct him. He was too busy freaking out. 

"Woah, those guys are good!" Lloyd said after a second, with a wide grin as he moved closer to the open area. There was a pair in the centre, both seamlessly blending a clear ballet style with swing. The song was upbeat too, and the guys were definitely brimming with talent. 

On any other night, Cole could just stand there and watch. 

"Lloyd," He stared, stepping just a bit more in front of him. 

The Green Ninja looked over to him after a second, though Cole knew he didn't really have the kid's attention. 

So he went silent. He stepped back, crossed his arms over his chest tightly, tried to force the tenseness out of his shoulders to no clear avail and waited. Waited the agonising few minutes until the dancing stopped. This was worse than everything he'd been going through before his performance. He'd go through it again, if he had a choice. He wouldn't even think twice, if it meant Lloyd not having been there. 

So as the dancers took their bows and exited the floor, Cole had one hand carding through his hair and the other gripping the fabric of his jumper just for something to do to keep them busy. 

Then Lloyd turned back around, and Cole didn't even know where to begin. 

Or he did. 

"You can't tell anyone." He said quickly. 

Lloyd's reaction was a slight frown, "What?" 

"You can't tell the guys. I know that you saw me dance, and you can't tell them."

"Cole--"

Cole tugged on his hair lightly, then blew a heavy breath out of his nose. He needed to take a moment, to just breathe and think. 

Why didn't Lloyd seem as bothered by this as he was? 

"You were great." He said plainly, 

"I-- what." 

"You were awesome." There was a slight laugh to Lloyd's voice, but it wasn't anything mocking. It was light, brief, as if he was impressed. "Like, I knew you could dance. You dance in the kitchen all the time."

"No, I don't--"

"You do." Lloyd stated. "You really do."

At that, Lloyd started edging from the crowd, pausing for a second to make sure Cole was following before continuing on his way. They ended up standing at the mirrored wall of the studio. 

He spared a glance at himself. At all the neon paint and dishevelled hair, and an expression that looked torn between excitement of getting his routine done, to a physical depiction of the amalgamation of feelings he was experiencing due to Lloyd also being there. 

Lloyd who was awake at what was now probably three in the morning, looking as alert as if it was the middle of the day and not pitch black outside. Lloyd who'd said that what he'd done was awesome and then the conversation had dropped out. 

"You look like the physical embodiment of 'pacing a hole into the floor'." the silence was now broken, deep green eyes floating over the built up crowd before going back to Cole. 

Who just wiped a hand down his face, "What're you doing here?" A solid place to start. 

"I followed you." It was said plainly, so easily. It was obvious, but Cole didn't want to believe he'd been caught out. 

"And here I was thinking I was getting good at sneaking out." Cole sighed, shoving his hands into his pocket. Though a small smile sprung up in the corner of his mouth, blatant sarcasm never failed to lighten the mood. "It's past your bedtime, squirt,"

"Past yours too, old-timer."

There was a brief pause, before the both of them let out a laugh. It wasn't forced, it came out easily, even around the clogging sensation he could feel in his throat. So he was still nervous. 

Cole sighed and leant against the mirror. Lloyd had seen him, so what? It wasn't as if he could take it back or delete it from anyone's memory, what happened had happened, and that was that. 

Lloyd knew, and that was that. 

"So," He started slowly, elbowing the younger ninja's arm just a little harder than necessary, then shot him a grin as compensation. "You thought I was good?" 

Lloyd nodded for a moment, before he seemed to realise he wasn't actually saying anything, just letting his body speak for the thoughts that seemed to be going through his head. "Yeah. Just… Yeah," He grinned, "I have to be honest, I didn't realise it was you at first."

Small victories. 

"I followed you in here and then I sort of, you know," He waves his hands around for a second, as if gesturing to everything, "Got sidetracked. I was watching people dance and I realised I had no idea where you'd gotten to, and I looked a little but I couldn't find you, so I just, you know?" 

"Went back to watching?" Cole finished, tilting his head. "This place draws you in, doesn't it?" 

There was a quiet him of acknowledgement, barely audible over the music. Then, "It drew you in, didn't it?" It sounded like a statement as much as a question. 

Cole just nodded. 

Lloyd took a moment, shifting onto his toes as if he could see the current dancers better from where he was, even though he was clear on the other side of the room and he wasn't the tallest anyway. Though he seemed to find a point where he could see, because he stopped shifting about and held his position for a good minute before actually moving again.

Cole took the break to gather his thoughts. Lloyd knew everything; he was here, he was enjoying himself but that also meant there were currently two vacant beds back at the monastery. Something which greatly increased the chance that their absence would be noticed by a tenfold. That was if someone decided to do a random room inspection in the dead of night. Weirder things had happened. Was it worth risking it, or should he be dragging Lloyd out at that moment so they could start the walk back home? 

He must have been staring, because the next moment Lloyd was just in front of him, holding something in his hands and turning it over slowly.

"I didn't recognise you until around half way into the song. The mask threw me off to be honest, and the paint." He made a loose gesture to the neon glow that he was still emitting. The lines were crisp, bright, though some areas of the paint had cracked with movement. 

Then Cole realised that the thing that Lloyd was holding was his mask. The conniving colour coded nightmare must have snagged it off his belt.

Yet, he just watched, and made no immediate move to take it back. It wasn't like he was worried Lloyd would break it, it wasn't like he'd not dropped it or sat on it himself in the past couple weeks. Lloyd had seen him dance, what was one mask in comparison to that? 

Then he paused, the mask face up. 

"Is this design based on--?" 

"Yeah. It is." Cole confirmed. Now, he reached over and took it into his hands. Lloyd didn't seem put about by it, even with all the negative connotations around the look. Deep orange, sharp grey and white marks framing the eyes, teeth painted abstractly with the same orange neon paint that Cole had marked on his chin to complete the look. It was illuminated, eye catching, and worked as a way to draw attention from the person that was beneath it. 

Apparently, it seemed to do its job. 

"Why'd you pick that? Why not something else, like a dragon, or a serpentine?" The question wasn't accusatory, just full of curiosity. Lloyd was digging for details, reasoning, an explanation even. 

"It's a funny story, actually." Cole turned the mask over in his hands, tugging at the elastic strap on the back. Honestly, the thing was overall impractical. It was tight and always left a ridge on his nose where it rested, the elastic made his hair stick up on end. But it served a purpose, it separated him from the guy that walked into the middle of the floor. It hid his face so the only thing people would know about him was his ability to dance, not that he was the Elemental Master of Earth or one of the ninja that had saved Ninjago multiple times over, or the son of a Royal Blacksmith. 

He was just someone who could dance.

It was also a slight joke. An internal and personal way of handling a traumatic event. 

He'd fallen from the Bounty, somehow survived and avoided being affected by the darkness that had descended, he'd made it back to the monastery in time for the final fight and eventual victory. Then he relieved that fear and horror, the sensation of falling with no one there to catch him but the earth that was racing up towards nearly every night when he closed his eyes. 

The Oni Mask of Deception, created in the visage of an Oni. The same Oni species that hadn't been able to take Cole's life even when he'd been so close to death. The Oni who had been prevented from taking over Ninjago by a combined family that stood against them and didn't give up against all odds. 

He'd suffered from nightmares for so long. But now, he wore the mask and had fun. He wore it because in doing so, it was proof he survived and he was still going. 

"I deceived death." Cole gave a quiet laugh after a second. Lloyd just watched. "When everyone thought I was gone, I came back. And me being here," He gestured to the crowd, to the speakers and the now pulsing music that he had to raise his voice slightly to talk over, even on the quieter side of the room, "It's like a 'screw you'. I'm having fun and here I can just be me. I can stop worrying and stop thinking and just feel." He grinned, probably the widest and most honest one he'd done so in a while. 

It was freeing, dance was freeing. 

"I can dance, and I can do it without caring what anyone thinks of me." Cole concluded slowly, his eyes watching Lloyd, expression relaxed and gentle. "I get to be both myself, and someone entirely new."

"Do you think you can't be yourself and a dancer?" 

He paused, his brow furrowed lightly. "It's not that, it's just, it makes it all easier, hiding behind a mask. You nearly didn't recognise me."

That made the younger ninja duck his head, letting out a slight laugh, "Yeah, I should have recognised the worn shoes and bad fashion sense."

Cole gaped. 

"Bad--? I swear, training tomorrow--" 

"You mean later today?" 

"Whatever. I'm going to kick your ass."

"Cole!" Cole's attention shot up in an instant, away from any murderous intent he had towards Lloyd and shifted over to the walking neon collage heading towards them. 

"Chamille?" Lloyd questioned after a second of staring, his eyes squinted as if it had taken a second for him to place her. 

She simply made her way forwards, shot Lloyd a quick and wide smile, along with a wave. "Hey, look at you! You've grown."

"Uh…"

"Anyway, I'm here to borrow Cole." She took his wrist and started pulling lightly. "You don't mind, right? He'll be gone four minutes tops."

Lloyd took a moment before he leant back against the mirrored wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "I don't mind." It was clear he was enjoying what was happening far too much, and Cole noticed the second he clocked his expression, because a smirk soon settled on Lloyd's mouth. "Dancing?" 

"Yep." Chamille popped the P and pulled harder until Cole finally gave and took a step. 

"Don't I get a say in this?" He questioned. 

The simultaneous "No." from both parties made him do a double take, then just sigh. Lloyd and Chamille shared a look; they were clearly on the same page. One that benefited the both of them and not the earth ninja stuck in the middle of their escapade. Sometimes it was just like babysitting, especially when he seemed to be stuck with the position of 'dad friend' in the group. It didn't help that Lloyd acted serious, but when push came to shove he was as immature as Kai on a good day. 

"Dance competition, Cole." She said, as if that was all the reasoning she needed to get him moving faster, "Tyler says winners get bragging rights and free drinks."

"Free drinks?"

"Lloyd," Cole rolled his eyes, "You're underage."

"Dancing, bragging rights! Come on," Chamille pulled harder, before Cole eventually gave up and followed along behind her towards the centre of the floor. 

He could hear Lloyd's laugh behind him, along with a shouted, "I'll find you afterwards!" 

Cole just rolled his eyes, and followed Chamille through the crowd, pulling his mask on as he went.

-

From the beginning

Ch 07 > Ch 08 > Ch 09

AO3

[books-and-or-wine]

First Post / The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett

Despite the name of this blog, I’ve started out 2021 by *attempting* to complete a dry January. Accordingly, my inaugural post will be simply “book” and no wine. Frankly, it is likely due to the lack of wine in my life that I had the sudden ambition to start a blog. It’s really the only explanation, as I am usually full of inspired ideas that amount to little or no action. While there is an excellent chance this endeavor will be abandoned when groundhogs across the globe emerge to see (or not see) their shadows, hopefully by the time February hits posting here is a habit that drunkenness does not deter me from (optimistic of me, I’m aware).

My goal is to post about all the books I read this year; this is mostly for my own enjoyment, and as a record of my year in books, but I do hope someone out there looking for a book recommendation might one day find some use in reading these reviews... did I mention I was an optimist? And yes, I know Goodreads exists, but Tumblr is prettier so here we are.

So, without further ado, the first book I present for 2021 is:

THE VANISHING HALF by BRIT BENNETT

**Spoilers ahead, read with caution***

The Premise:

Desiree and Stella Vignes are twins. Where Desiree is unabashed, Stella is reserved; where Stella possesses book-smarts and a desire to go to college, all Desiree wants is to get out of their tiny town of Mallard, Louisiana -- a town where the inhabitants are overwhelmingly fair-skinned African Americans (the Vignes twins included). Desiree believes she knows her twin, but Stella has secrets -- the biggest one being that she has passed for a white person before, and she intends to do it again. And when she does do it again, she doesn’t come back.

Jump to several years later and we are introduced to Desiree’s daughter, Jude. Jude’s skin is described as “blue-black.” She takes after her father’s darker tones and is made to feel less-than when Desiree, fleeing domestic abuse, brings young Jude back to her hometown of Mallard. It is only when Jude escapes Mallard herself that she meets Reese, a trans-man, and they are able to help one another see the beauty in themselves.

Finally we meet Kennedy, Stella’s blonde-haired and blue-eyed daughter. She is privileged, spoiled and an aspiring actor. She doesn’t know about her mother’s heritage, and consequently her own. But when Kennedy’s path crosses with Jude’s she is determined to discover the truth.

The Pros:

This story takes places over decades -- going back to the 1950′s and lurching forward well into the 1980′s. It is also divided into 4 parts, each part being told from the perspective of (or focusing on) one of the main characters. I found the jumps in time and focus to be an engaging and effective means of unravelling the narrative. It kept the story feeling fresh and allowed you to see how the various characters perceived themselves, as well as how they were perceived by others. 

My favorite character was hands-down Jude. The reader is introduced to her as a young child from Desiree’s perspective in part 1. By part 2, Jude has graduated high school and is moving away to college. We learn about the bullying she endured and the loneliness of her childhood in Mallard. Anyone who has ever been othered or starved for attention and love can immediately empathize with her experience. When she meets Reese, it is heart-breaking to read how utterly convinced she is that she is not attractive, that he could never want her, based on the years she had that message reinforced in her mind. Reading about Reese’s trans-experience, particularly in the 1970′s, also added another dynamic layer to their arc.

I loved how gentle Reese and Jude were with one another, and how their relationship and love grew in such a slow, organic way. It was wonderfully pure. The tenderness they found in one another filled my shriveled heat with joy -- that they, despite their challenging pasts, were able to find and support one another. 

The Cons:

While Jude was an entirely sympathetic character, I can’t say I felt the same about Stella. Admittedly, her decision to run-away and pass as a white person is the driving force behind the entire novel; however, I think the impact of that decision on the other characters was more interesting to read about than Stella herself. 

Stella comes across as selfish, fearful and weak.  When I was reading her part, it felt like something to get through rather than to enjoy. I just wanted to shake her! A particularly painful scene to read was when Kennedy, as a young child, calls the black girl she is playing with across the street the N-word -- a word the child doesn’t know the meaning of and has clearly learned from Stella. The two girls do not play together again.

It seemed like the author tried to give Stella some redemption towards the end of the novel, when she finally tells a now grown-up Kennedy the truth about her past. However, she only tells Kennedy the truth after Kennedy has literally been asking her about it for years and Stella has continuously denied everything. I guess you have to respect Stella for her commitment to the lie. Ultimately, however, Stella comes across as a sad person who is trapped in a cage of her own-making.

The Final Take-away: 

After the first 80 pages or so I could not put this book down. The characters were highly compelling (even the ones I didn’t like) and the issues explored felt important. As a cis-gender white woman, I also think it necessary to read books by authors from backgrounds different than mine -- this book certainly exposed me to the different lived experience of these characters, particularly with respect to racism, colourism and light-skinned privilege.  While a work of fiction, it is often through fiction that the deepest truths can be explored. I’m so grateful to Brit Bennet for writing this story and would have no hesitation in recommending it people looking to engage with these themes. In the end, the Vanishing Half is a truly human story about flawed people and the consequences their decisions have on those they love. 

[portfoliostudio-chantellecalitz]

Blog Post #3 Portfolio Plan

A) Post screenshots of your sketched wireframes

Home page

About Me page

Project explination pages

B) List the links you’ll use in your portfolio

Having looked at a variety of portfolios, I think having Work and About Me as my only two links in the navigation would be sufficient. It seems that a separate page with contact info or a form is just an extra, unnecessary click.

On the Work page, the home page, I will have a small photo along with a blurb that quickly introduces me, sets the tone for the rest of the portfolio and mentions what I specialize in. Below that, I plan to have four thumbnails, the four projects I will be showcasing, with the name of the project and keywords about the type of design. These thumbnails are clickable and will lead to a new page that will show an in depth explanation of the problem, solution, process work and the final design for each project, etc.

Below that I will have my email available in a Contact Me blurb that will be on every page just above the footer. In my wireframes I showed that I will also have my phone number with my email, but I decided against it since it's not necessary. 

The footer will feature links to my Instagram, Linkedin and Dribble account.

My About Me page will elaborate on my background, work experience and education.

C) Which 4 projects will you showcase on your site?

Portal Magazine

I am currently the graphic designer for Portal, the literary magazine for Vancouver Island University. I designed the 2019 and 2020 issues and will be designing the 2021 issue, Portal’s 30th anniversary issue, shortly. 

I work with the Portal team, the Creative Writing and Journalism third and fourth-year students. All VIU students are encouraged to submit their fiction, non-fiction, poetry, scripts, photography, paintings or illustrations. The student magazine department then decide which pieces will make it into the issue, and I design the magazines’ layout, fliers for their fundraising events, ads for ad swaps with other literary magazines, programs and tickets. 

The Fermented Moose

I designed a logo and brand collateral for a UBrew that just opened in my hometown, Whitecourt, Alberta. The client wanted to base the logo off of a painting she had made that shows a moose walking away into the mountains with the northern lights above. With this design, I was able to illustrate a few moose and a fun graphic for the back of the business card as well as a social distancing marker.

Get Ready

Get Ready is a brand that aims to educate men and women about how to build a stylish business casual capsule closet while being more conscious about their impact in the world. A booklet goes into detail about how people can transform their current closet into a capsule closet, how to create a colour palette for their clothes that will match their skin tone, tips to look put together and a handy shopping guide inside that will help people focus on only buying items that can be worn with a variety of clothes that they already own.

The booklet is used with an app that, once people have transformed their closets, will mix and match outfits for each day of the week. Being environmentally conscious and looking stylish has never been easier.

The Barkley Cider Series

I redesigned an existing bottle of cider from Tod Creek Craft Cider in a package design class. To make the one cider into a series, I updated the design of the existing flavour, apple and blackberry, and I chose fruit pairings native to the island to create two more flavours: apricot and cherry and fig and pear. 

I illustrated octopi holding the fruit that’s in the cider in different positions for each flavour. 

D) Review your proposed showcase projects and determine where you need to fill holes in your showcase 

I want to photograph these projects again, this time making them more cohesive and interesting. My current photos are boring, photographed in front of a white background. I want pictures that are friendlier, some of them can even have people interacting with the items for scale or to place them in a real world context.

I also need to create Linkedin and Dribbble accounts. 

I will need to examine the rationales I currently have as well and make sure they're thorough enough.

E) What platform will you use?

I will be designing my website on Squarespace.

F) What will your domain name be?

I think chantellecalitz.ca would be a good domain name for me. It's not terribly exciting, but it's easy to google. My style is very fun, but I also tend to be fairly serious. 

[emospritelet]

#94 — “I wasn’t expecting a gift,” from the festive fic prompts. Original sin verse, please!

Belle heads to Storybrooke to give Demon!Gold some news...

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [AO3]

x

It was snowing again.

Belle closed and locked the door of the bookshop, turning her face up to the darkened sky and feeling the light kiss of cold flakes on her nose and cheeks. She let out a sigh, blinking rapidly to clear the snowflakes from her lashes, and put her keys in her bag before heading down the street. It was the day before Christmas Eve, and people hurried around her, clutching bulging bags of last-minute purchases. Belle had already made it known by virtue of a card in the bookshop window that she would not be open on Christmas Eve. It would mean that she would lose some last-minute sales, of course, but that couldn’t be helped. There was somewhere else she needed to be.

The wind was biting, and she shivered a little, pushing her chin down into her scarf as she quickened her pace. The neon sign outside Roni’s bar was a welcoming sight, and Belle ducked inside the door, letting a wave of heat and the raucous guitar of some rock ballad wash over her. She stamped snow from her boots, eyes flicking to the bar. Roni, the dark-haired owner and bartender, was deep in conversation with a woman that Belle hadn’t seen before. She was blonde and slender, with pale skin set off by the cream coat she wore above leather pants the colour of tropical sand and a cream turtleneck sweater. The woman had a glass of white wine, and was running a pale finger around the base of the glass as they talked in quiet voices. Roni had a glass in her hand, and was wiping it with a cloth in a surprisingly nervous fashion.

“So, I’m closing up tomorrow around eight,” she said. “If - if you wanted to come over for a drink, or something.”

The blonde woman smiled a little sadly.

“I don’t think my side would like that,” she said, and Roni’s face fell a little before a bright smile curved her red lips.

“Sure,” she said. “I understand. Big night for you guys, right? I don’t exactly celebrate.”

“It’s - it’s not that I don’t want to…”

“Really, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” 

Roni turned away, her smile tight, almost a grimace, and Belle felt a surge of sympathy for her. She had never seen the blonde woman before, but there was clearly some history there, and deep feelings that were not remotely one-sided. She hoped they could work it out.

“Hey,” she said lightly, as though she hadn’t noticed their pining. “Man, it’s freezing out there!”

“Belle,” said Roni, looking relieved at her arrival. “You okay? Haven’t seen you in a week.”

“Yeah, I was feeling under the weather,” said Belle, wrinkling her nose.

“Nothing serious, I hope.”

Belle sucked her teeth, then shrugged. May as well tell someone.

“Depends on your point of view, I guess,” she said. “I’m pregnant.”

“A baby?” The blonde woman looked delighted. “That’s wonderful!”

“Thank you.” 

Belle returned her warm smile. Roni’s reaction was nothing more than an upward flick of one brow.

“Oh,” she said. “Uh - congratulations?”

“Thanks.” Belle shrugged out of her coat. “You don’t seem too surprised.”

Roni pulled a face.

“You did look kinda beat last time you were in here,” she said. “When you said you couldn’t face a gin and tonic but scarfed down a bowl of pickled jalapeno slices, I gotta admit I had my suspicions.”

“Is that why you pushed me away from the wine and towards the iced tea?” said Belle wryly.

“Speaking of…” Roni picked up a glass with a questioning look, and Belle nodded, climbing onto a bar stool.

“You got any of those jalapenos?” she asked.

Roni slid a glass of iced tea across the bar towards her, and smirked before reaching for the jar of pickled chilli slices behind her.

“I’m gonna have to get in some more of these,” she said. “Never took you for a spice fiend.”

“Can’t seem to get enough of it right now,” said Belle, eyeing the slices of jalapeno as Roni scooped them up and drained them with the edge of a spoon.

“Is that a pregnancy thing?”

“Must be,” she sighed. “I guess at least it’s more healthy than my old cupcake obsession.”

“Got a fresh batch in today.” Roni pushed a little dish of pickled chillies towards her, and gestured to the plastic cake stand to her left, where sat half a dozen chocolate cupcakes, each topped with a thickly-piped swirl of inky-black frosting and a single dark cherry, sticky with syrup. “Want one? On the house, since you’re eating for two.”

Belle was tempted, tapping her fingernails on the bar.

“Guess I’d better check there’s nothing in there I shouldn’t be having,” she said. “You got a list of what’s in these things? I ate like two dozen of them leading up to Halloween, and they taste too good to be totally healthy.”

“Yeah, I got an ingredient list somewhere,” said Roni vaguely, fishing around under the bar. “The guy that makes ‘em dropped it off. Get a lot of questions about allergies. Here.”

She slapped a somewhat ragged piece of paper on the bar, and Belle looked it over. She glanced up, fixing Roni with a flat stare.

“Activated charcoal?” she said. “You weren’t planning on mentioning that?”

“Oh, yeah, apparently it’s how he got the frosting black,” said Roni, unconcerned.

“Activated charcoal?” said Belle incredulously. “Are you kidding me? I thought it was just regular food colouring!”

“What?” asked Roni, looking confused. “Isn’t it supposed to be good for you? That’s what the guy said, anyway. Some sort of hipster ingredient?”

“Not if you’re on bloody birth control!” 

“What?”

“It screws it up!” exclaimed Belle, throwing up her arms and letting them fall. “You do know that?”

“Uh…” Roni shifted uneasily. “No?”

“Roni!”

“Well, why would I?” she said defensively. “I don’t take birth control! I’m not even sure I understand how it works!”

“I don’t believe this!”

“Seriously, you’ve been handing out cupcakes that mess with people’s birth control?” remarked the blonde woman. Roni put her hands on her hips.

“It wasn’t me!” she insisted. “Do you really think I could do something that evil?”

The blonde woman gave her a very flat look, and Roni huffed.

“Well, I didn’t!”

Belle leaned on the bar with a sigh.

“At least I have an explanation now,” she said dryly. “I thought it was just bad luck. Or - or good luck, I guess. You know what I mean.”

Roni leaned on the bar, putting her head to the side.

“You’re happy about it?” she asked carefully.

Belle took a sip of her iced tea, and smiled as she set down her glass.

“Yeah,” she said. “I am. I mean, it was a shock, not gonna lie, but now I’ve had time to think about it, I’m really excited. I guess the timing isn’t great, but is there ever a perfect time?”

“And the father?” Roni sounded cautious, and Belle sighed.

“Haven’t told him yet,” she admitted. “I only found out yesterday, and - well, he lives up in Maine. Something tells me this needs to be a face-to-face conversation.”

“Yeah.” Roni poured herself a glass of whisky, and leaned on the bar. “Well, I imagine he’ll be pleased to see you.”

“You think?” asked Belle. “We only had one date.”

“Apparently it was one hell of a date.” Roni sipped at her whisky.

“Yeah, but we haven’t managed to cross paths since,” she said. “We’ve been emailing, but - well, I guess it’s a long drive. He said work was keeping him busy until the New Year.”

“So are you going up there?”

“Getting the bus to Maine tomorrow,” she confirmed.

“Hmm.” Roni smirked. “Give the old bastard my regards, won’t you?”

“Do you know him?” asked Belle, confused. “He said you didn’t, but the two of you acted kind of…”

“Kind of what?”

“I don’t know.” Belle popped a chilli slice in her mouth, savouring the sharp heat. “Like you were in some sort of secret society and couldn’t talk about it.”

“Who are you talking about?” asked the blonde woman, suddenly suspicious, and Roni sent her a smile.

“No one important,” she said. “At least not to me. Don’t even know the guy’s name.”

“His name’s Damien Gold,” said Belle, and the blonde woman frowned slightly, as though she was trying to remember something.

“Anyhow, never mind about him,” said Roni hurriedly. “When’s the baby due?”

“July.”

“You know what you’re having?”

“Oh, it’s way too early to tell,” said Belle hastily. “I don’t care, anyway. Boy or girl, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Well, I wish you every happiness,” said the blonde woman warmly, reaching out to take her hand.

Belle went to take it, opening her mouth to say thank you, when a spark of electricity bounced between them, making them both yelp and jerk back before they could touch. The woman rubbed her fingers on her pants, frowning.

“Ouch,” said Roni. “Man-made fibres, huh? Give me leather every time.”

The blonde woman gave her another suspicious, somewhat weary look, and Belle wondered exactly what it was that was going on between them. She took a sip of her iced tea, picking at the chilli slices as Roni went to serve another customer. Twenty-four hours, and she would be in Maine. Seeing the father of her child. She wondered what he was doing with his day. Whether he had the faintest notion of how his life was going to change.

x

The Greyhound bus pulled into Storybrooke just before seven, and Belle looked around herself as she stepped off onto a sidewalk covered in snow and crisscrossed with footprints. The town looked quaint, the main street strung with festive lights and the shops all sporting decorations. A large Christmas tree sat in a square off to her left, lights flashing red and gold, and she smiled. Storybrooke certainly embraced the Christmas spirit.

Belle clutched her bag in one hand, a holdall stuffed with enough clothes to get her through the next week if necessary. She wasn’t sure how long she would need to discuss matters with Gold. Worst case scenario, he would refuse to have anything to do with her, in which case she would be back on the bus to New York and preparing to raise her child alone. She didn’t think he would cut them off completely, but she was prepared for it nonetheless.

She had called ahead to the only place to stay in town, a bed and breakfast called Granny’s. Finding it was easy; a nearby diner bore the same name, and she could see the inn attached to it. She bypassed the diner and walked up a dark path, the trees lining it strung with coloured lights. The interior of the inn was old-fashioned, but it was clean and comfortable, and Mrs Lucas, its grey-haired owner, seemed kindhearted, if a little brusque.

She did little more than check that her room was clean before dropping her bag on the bed and rummaging in it for the gift she had brought. Perhaps it was foolish, bringing Gold a Christmas present, but she had been poking around the flea market and the item had called to her. She had taken it home and set it carefully in a box, wrapping it in bright red paper with stylised reindeer and Santa figures, and tied it up with a red ribbon. Now that she was looking at it, it seemed garish and somehow insulting, although she wasn’t sure why anyone would be insulted by receiving a present. Telling herself she was nervous, and therefore not thinking straight, she shoved it into her handbag and checked her hair and make-up, reapplying deep red lipstick and pulling her cloche hat back on her head.

Belle had asked Mrs Lucas where Mr Gold’s antique shop could be found, and after receiving a surprised, narrow-eyed look, had been given directions. She could hear the noise from the diner as she passed by: Christmas music and the raucous laughter and cheerful conversation of the diners. It faded as she walked away, down the darkened streets with the snow falling around her and deadening her footsteps. It was late, and she wasn’t sure if she would find Gold in his shop, but the lit sign appeared out of the night, a square of gold against the black of the sky. His was the only shop not decked with coloured lights, the window displaying an old tea set, an ancient globe and a brass telescope, all cushioned on black velvet and lit with a warm, golden light. Perhaps he didn’t celebrate Christmas. It made her feel even more nervous about buying him a gift.

Glancing through the window, she could see him, and her heart began to thump harder. He was standing behind the shop counter, hands poised on tented fingers and his eyes fixed on the door, as though he was waiting for someone. As though he was waiting for her. It made her swallow hard, her nerves increasing. Why the hell didn’t I call, tell him I was coming? What if he has family visiting? What if - what if he has a wife? Is that the reason he didn’t come back? Because he has his own life here? Oh God, why didn’t I bloody well call?

Taking a deep breath, and telling herself to be brave, she pushed open the door, a bell tinkling cheerfully above. It swung shut behind her, and she took a step forward, moving closer. Gold’s dark eyes caught hers, but there was a tiny smile on his face, and it gave her courage, made her move closer.

The shop smelt of beeswax and old books, filled with the low, rhythmic ticking of clocks and the gleam of soft yellow light on polished wood and shining brass and cut crystal. Belle stepped up the counter, meeting Gold’s eyes. He was wearing black, the faint gleam of silk in the folds of his shirt where gold sleeve garters pushed them up above his elbows. His tie was black silk, too, with a damask pattern, a gold tie pin clipped across its dark length. He wore no jacket, a waistcoat closely fitting his slim form, the thin gold chain of a pocket watch looping across from his belt. His hair hung around his face, soft and shining, and she remembered how it had felt slipping between her fingers, brushing her cheeks as he moved inside her. She felt a surge of desire go through her, and licked her lips. Not the time.

“Hey,” she said, and he smiled in a satisfied manner, settling back on his heels a little.

“Miss French,” he said. “How lovely to see you.”

“I think we’re on first name terms,” she said, with a nervous smile. “We’ve seen each other very naked, or did you forget?”

Gold’s grin widened, showing white teeth.

“Oh, I could never forget that.” He put his head to the side. “How are you?”

“I’m - uh - fine.”

Her heart was thumping, her belly twisting with nerves. How would he react? Would he be pleased? Angry? Certainly he’d be shocked, but would he reject her, reject his child? God, she wished she had called first! Telling herself it was too bloody late now, she decided to follow her original plan. She reached into her bag, taking out the gift-wrapped box, and placed it on the counter. 

“Merry Christmas,” she said nervously.

Gold blinked, and looked from the present to her and back again, seemingly unsure of himself.

“I wasn’t expecting a gift.”

“Tis the season.”

“Yes.”

He picked it up and turned it over in his hands, looking oddly hesitant.

“I thought you’d come to me,” he admitted. “But I didn’t know when that would be. Perhaps the New Year, or—”

“Did you want me to come?” God, this was agony! Gold sighed, but gave her that tiny smile again. 

“Of course I did,” he said. “What I mean to say is, I - I don’t have anything to give you in return. I don’t celebrate, you see. Tomorrow I was planning on doing inventory.”

“That’s okay,” she said, and took a deep breath. “You already gave me the best present I could hope for, anyway.”

His eyes flicked up to meet hers, a gleam of gold shining in their depths.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She shifted awkwardly. “Uh - you might want to be sitting down for this.”

His smile widened.

“Whatever you have to tell me, I can take it.”

“Right.”

Her heart was hammering in her chest, her skin prickling all over, and she wanted nothing more than to climb over the counter and kiss him. She licked her lips, and summoned all her courage, raising her chin.

“I’m pregnant.”

[chibimyumi]

Hello again! I was asking about your realistic art actually...

Hello again ^^

First of all, thanks for your interest! I shall use these three pieces to explain. But it will be an INCREDIBLY long post, so please click ‘Keep reading’ for the actual explanation.

For details, please right-click the attached photos and click ‘view image’, or whatever equivalent of your os.

[Der Tod] [Mozart] [Sebastian]

Starting off and Line-art

I usually just start sketching the line-art and use the grid only to check whether the proportions are right. I don’t draw on the grid, because the lines may risk becoming incredibly stiff.

Face

For the colouring, I start with the base colour of the face.

Personally I colour the base layer carefully within the lines where necessary.

For some other places this is not necessary, because the excess colour will later be covered by hair for example.

Then I start shading using purple, and accentuate the eyes. Accentuating the eyes is a personal thing. It gives me a better grasp of feeling the person. The eyes are usually the first thing I complete.

I am a coward, so I add layers and layers for shading, using purple and brown as a standard. I often have as many as 50 layers open at the same time.

While shading, I don’t mind the excess.

I make sure to clip group, so that I can shade freely once the confinements (base layer) are set. Once the group is clipped, all the excess will disappear. (*´▽｀*)ノ✨

Then I apply highlights where necessary. For this, I usually use aggressive white tones.

It’s nothing much actually. Once the base layer is switched off, this is what remains. I start the highlighting with very bright/white colours, so I usually tone down the layer opacity as needed, otherwise he will get a very ‘greasy’ or ‘sweaty’ face. I toned this one down to 92%.

Hair

Everything is done with the same principle. I also just start with a base colour for the hair, just like for his skin.

I pay attention to add messy details to make the drawing more lively.

Then I apply the same shading technique as for the face. For Der Tod specifically, I used these colours. Just like the ‘messy details above’, I also like adding light, loose strands of hair to add to the dynamic of the hair.

Finally I add the shades to connect the roots of the hair to the scalp. For this I use a slightly redder hue of purple to simulate real skin.

For comparison (^ω^)

Clothes

The clothes for Der Tod are just monotone, so I will use Mozart for the explanation instead.

The principle is of course the same. Just like with the skin, I start with a base colour, and colour within the lines where necessary. And otherwise I don’t bother.

Shading

Just like with the skin, I start shading layer by layer. For completion’s sake, I also use purple for harmony, so that it won’t look like the face and the clothes are two separate drawings. I also clip the groups here, so I can make sure to have maximum hand-movement freedom as not to restrict myself.

The details on Mozart’s frock are ridiculous. I added another layer of dark shade and used the eraser to ‘draw’ the details. I don’t know what this is called… negative shading? The eraser is not just a ‘mistake corrector’; it’s a drawing tool.

THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE

Now comes my least favourite part; the details.

When it comes to black clothes (like Sebas’ suit and Der Tod’s shirt) I use ‘negative’ shading. I start with a black base (instead of a light colour) and add layers of lighter colours for highlight as I go.

Quality Check

The grid I used as an example above is of course a valid way to check for quality, but my personal favourite is the ‘Horizontal Flip’ button. It’s like a sacred button that reveals all the eeeevilllll.

When I was drawing this piece, something just felt off.

So I held my breath and flipped it… and the mistake revealed itself.

I could not ‘fix’ the mistake anymore, so I swallowed my pride and imported some extra patience, and redrew Sebastian’s left eye.

Well, that’s about it ~ I hope I did not bore anyone with this long-ass post .

( ≽ω≼;;)づ

[star-anise]

@notanightlight  replied to your post “Stop writing men as if modern Western toxic masculinity were the...”

Whoa, I agree that these are some of the nations most talked about when talking about Europe. But what do you mean, “American white people” by it? That totally depends on the part of the USA (assuming you just mean the USA) you’re talking about. The white people from the states in the area my mother came from are predominantly Swedish and Norwegian. The white people in the area I grew up in were mostly Irish, Polish, Slovakian, Czech, German, and Italian. That is massively oversimplified.

Well, that’s the thing. “White people” is a totally made-up oversimplified category.  But being made up doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Whiteness is literally what happens when you take distinct European ethnicities and feed them all into a sociological meatgrinder.

Here is the actual explanation of this photograph, taken without exaggeration or embellishment directly from its item description by The Henry Ford Museum of American Innovation:

Melting Pot Ceremony at Ford English School, July 4, 1917 

Graduates of Ford's English School wearing their "native dress" descend into a large pot labeled "The American Melting Pot." After going through a virtual smelting process, the immigrant's identity was boiled away, leaving a new citizen to emerge from the pot wearing American clothes and waving American flags. In an attempt to address the need to integrate growing numbers of foreign workers at Ford's Highland Park Plant, the company established the Ford English School in 1914. The school focused on training immigrants in the English language and providing civics lessons necessary to become US citizens. Ford's English School provided basic citizenship and language training for so many immigrants, that the US Naturalization Service counted graduation from the Ford English School as meeting most of the requirements needed to take the citizenship exam. 

Whiteness as a culture, a force, an identity, is fundamentally based on the erasure of all other differences between white people. The degree to which someone can be considered “white” is, in many ways, the degree to which they have been assimilated into whiteness, which is not just about skin or hair colour.

So, to link back to the thing being discussed originally: Becoming American, or becoming white, for men, has meant leaving ethnic dress behind and putting on suits in muted colours. It has meant learning to carry themselves with a certain body language, to restrain their emotions in a certain way, to limit their body language, their expressiveness, their interest in arts or culture. This is why different groups--Irish, Russian, Armenian, Italian, Greek, or Latino--have been variously classified as “white” and “not white” over time, without actually changing that much physically; it’s about how much they’re perceived to have assimilated.

When American media wants to depict a light-skinned man as “foreign”, how do they mark him as foreign aside from giving him an accent? They make him too expressive, or too emotive; he makes too much physical contact, or his clothing is too nice or too colourful, or he cares about dance or music more than the American characters. 

That is not to say American men, or white men, don’t do things counter to the masculine stereotype. They do! Of course they do! And I applaud them for it! But they get socially punished for breaking out of their gendered roles. 

A lot of my thoughts about masculinity lately were prompted by watching a performance by a professional Ukrainian dance company, whose men do get to wear colours and be bold and flamboyant and powerful and aesthetically focused. I’ve know boys who were part of the company’s dance school, and I used to be amazed at the difference between them as your average softspoken Canadian nice white boy in English, and confident, self-possessed, brilliant performers when they talked about dance or spoke Ukrainian. It was the difference between an identity kept out of the meatgrinder of whiteness (Canadian authorities resisted Ukrainian immigrants for a long time, dubious that they would ever successfully assimilate into general Anglo whiteness) and the white identities they assimilated into to fit into society.

And yeah, some European traditions are the heart of whiteness, the people who pushed the ideals that got held up as the universal standard, and they’re who gets talked about when we talk about “western cultures” and “western values”, but I do that honestly because this concept of “The West”, of “white”, of “American”, of “European”, has always been constructed to mean “this ideal, and anyone who fits the demographic but not the ideal gets pushed aside.”

[lifejustgotawkward]

My Favorite Albums of 2018

Now that we’ve reached the end of December, I’ve compiled a list of my favorite albums from this year. I’m particularly proud of the emphasis that I placed on listening to new music by women, which will be obvious as you make your way through the post. As I hope is the case every time I make these annual rankings, my goal is not so much that anyone should be awed by my short paragraphs of explanation (doubtful since my schedule didn’t allow me enough time to edit my writing too closely - let me know if there are any weird errors!), but rather that my mentions of these artists will spread positive awareness of them. If I can share my appreciation for a singer or band and subsequently inspire someone to become a fan, the work will have been worth it. Have a good time with this, everybody!

Tagging @shadowfaxstables, @entrancedintime, @mr-top-secret, @walkingwiththemoon, @thehoodedone, @yung-lawsuit, @oystersaintforme - I hope you enjoy the music!

15. Seinabo Sey, I’m a Dream

Standout Tracks: “Never Get Used To,” “I Owe You Nothing,” “My Eye,” “Truth,” “Breathe,” “Good in You”

I might never have heard of Gambian-Swedish singer-songwriter Seinabo Sey if I didn’t regular check out Pitchfork reviews, although luckily I started listening to I’m a Dream before reading Katherine St. Asaph‘s piece, which unfairly marks Sey’s album with a 6.0 grade. Sey’s second album, following Pretend (2015), continues her interest in marrying soul/R&B with pop, moving through different tempi to exhibit her perspectives on romantic and familial relationships. Most inspirational among the songs is “Breathe,” an empowering reminder from Sey to herself that no matter what hardships she endures, she is valuable and magical.

14. Black Belt Eagle Scout, Mother of My Children

Standout Tracks: “Soft Stud,” “Keyboard,” “Mother of My Children,” “Yard,” “I Don’t Have You in My Life,” “Sam, A Dream”

There may not have been a more impressive debut single in 2018 than “Soft Stud,” a searing ode to unrequited lust. The rest of Katherine Paul’s album is fairly quiet by comparison, but her first full-length project as Black Belt Eagle Scout burns with longing. A self-described “radical indigenous queer feminist,” Paul draws from her experiences growing up in the Swinomish Indian Tribal Community in Washington to tell stories both deeply personal to her and universal in the desires they communicate. Album closer “Sam, A Dream” is the best example of how Paul blends those two concepts, taking a minimalist lyrical approach to expressing her love for the song’s subject before spending a solid two and a half minutes on a guitar solo to finish the record, a sound so beautiful that you feel like you’re floating when you hear it.

13. Blossoms, Cool Like You

Standout Tracks: “Cool Like You,” “Unfaithful,” “How Long Will This Last?” “Between the Eyes,” “Lying Again,” “Love Talk”

For those of us who love a good tune that pays homage to 80s New Wave and synthpop, Blossoms are your band. They don’t seem to have made anywhere near as much of an impact in the US as they have in their native UK, and British critics weren’t exactly bowled over by this sophomore album (despite it hitting #4 on the charts), but I’ll bet that most of today’s young American bands would kill to put out a single half as catchy as “Cool Like You,” or anything close to the upbeat yet still sort of bittersweet perfection of “Love Talk.”

12. Shannon Shaw, Shannon in Nashville

Standout Tracks: “Bring Her the Mirror,” “Broke My Own,” “Leather, Metal, Steel,” “Love I Can’t Explain,” “Cold Pillows,” "Make Believe”

Stepping away from her role as frontwoman of Oakland, California’s surf-punk outfit Shannon and the Clams, Shannon Shaw’s debut solo album Shannon in Nashville is an entrancing collection of songs deeply inspired by 60s girl groups, Roy Orbison and, of course, Dusty “Dusty in Memphis” Springfield. Even if you’d never heard Shaw’s voice before now, it would instantly become iconic to your ears thanks to melodies that sound just as timeless as their predecessors from half a century ago.

11. Say Sue Me, Where We Were Together

Standout Tracks: “Let It Begin,” “But I Like You,” “Old Town,” “After Falling Asleep,” “About the Courage to Become Somebody’s Past,” “Coming to the End”

Korean-American indie rock band Say Sue Me have a sweet, light touch that makes both their snappy power-pop efforts like “But I Like You” and “Old Town” and also somewhat more serious-minded guitar showcases like “Let It Begin,” “About the Courage to Become Somebody’s Past” (an instrumental that gives me real “This Magic Moment” vibes) and “Coming to the End” equally appealing. I don’t speak or understand Korean, so I don’t know how lead singer Sumi Choi’s lyrics of “After Falling Asleep” translate, but the fact that I love it anyway is a testament to the fact that fantastic music always transcends barriers of language.

10. Robyn, Honey

Standout Tracks: “Missing U,” “Human Being” (feat. Zhala), “Baby Forgive Me,” “Send to Robin Immediately,” “Honey,” “Ever Again”

I didn’t expect to love Robyn’s newest album upon first listen back in October, but now I do, so here we are. A couple of months spent absorbing her woozy beats has made me appreciate Robyn’s ability to evoke moods that feel specific to her particular talent as an artist. The loss that inspired the album - the death of one of her closest friends, Christian Falk, in 2014 - pervades nearly all of the tracks, but they are relatable and will still make you want to dance, closer to light than to darkness. Even in songs like “Human Being” and “Baby Forgive Me,” where the rhythms and (to cite the latter’s credits in the album liner notes) “sad robot voice” play with notions of human artistic creation juxtaposed with machine-manufactured products, Robyn herself is always in front and center, and in the album’s crown jewel, the title track “Honey,” her maturity as a storyteller is evident.

9. cupcakKe, Eden

Standout Tracks: “PetSmart,” “Cereal and Water,” “Garfield,” “Prenup,” “Blackjack,” “A.U.T.I.S.M.”

All Hail Queen cupcakKe. On her second album of the year, following January’s Ephorize, the Chicago rapper continues to show why she’s one of the best women in the game. “PetSmart” starts things off incredibly, exhibiting one entertaining brag after another, then the rest of the album displays more of her often laugh-out-loud humor, endless pop culture references, a bunch of her quintessential sex-centric jams (”Garfield,” “Typo,” “Blackjack”) and a song dedicated to people on the autism spectrum (”A.U.T.I.S.M.”). Every now and then there are moments that indicate that cupcakKe still has room to grow, like when she uses the R slur on “Garfield,” but ultimately her heart is in the right place; besides the aforementioned “A.U.T.I.S.M.,” she has also recorded songs in support of the LGBTQ+ community (”LGBT,” “Crayons”), so I am certain that she’ll eventually learn from her mistakes. As one YouTube commenter wrote on one of her videos: “She should be where Cardi B is.” Indeed.

8. Chelsea Jade, Personal Best

Standout Tracks: “Ride or Cry,” “Pitch Dark,” “Colour Sum,” “Laugh It Off,” “Over Sensitive,” “High Beam”

New Zealand-based singer-songwriter Chelsea Jade has not yet hit it big in America like her younger compatriot, Lorde, but there is an ample proof on Personal Best that Jade can craft earworms with memorable hooks and intelligent lyrics. (Seriously, when was the last time you heard the word liminal used in a pop song, as Jade does on “Laugh It Off”?) She has her foot in the door in America as a lyricist, credited as one of the writers of this year’s Chainsmokers single “You Owe Me,” but one hopes that the “Accidental Dream Pop Hero” of Auckland, NZ will claim her own chart-topping stardom one day.

7. Beach House, 7

Standout Tracks: “Lemon Glow,” “L’Inconnue,” “Black Car,” “Lose Your Smile,” “Girl of the Year,” “Last Ride”

I thought I knew what to expect from a Beach House album after following their career for the past few years, but “Lemon Glow” and “Black Car” hit me like gorgeous sledgehammers anyway when they were released earlier this year, still taking my breath away every time I hear them. I don’t know how Victoria Legrand and Alex Scally manage it, but they keep finding sophisticated ways to update their mining of the same musical territory in a tried-and-true comfort zone. Beach House’s secret seems to be that they have deduced all the algorithms necessary to hypnotize listeners. 7 is perhaps less exciting to me than the duo’s last album, Thank Your Lucky Stars, since the freshness of first being introduced to their music in 2015 has faded, but I’m glad to report that their new songs are absolutely worthy of praise.

6. Soccer Mommy, Clean

Standout Tracks: “Still Clean,” “Cool,” “Your Dog,” “Last Girl,” “Skin,” “Wildflowers”

Nashville, Tennessee’s Sophie Allison, who performs under the moniker Soccer Mommy, wowed me with this ten-track album full of indie rock gems. At age 20, she is ready to take the music industry by storm, evoking her heroes Liz Phair and Mitski while always maintaining a recognizable individual style. This is most apparent on the more upbeat tracks - “Skin,” for example, is a brutally honest articulation of yearning, and if ever there was a year that needed a blistering takedown of abusive relationships like “Your Dog” as its rallying cry, it’s 2018.

5. Courtney Barnett, Tell Me How You Really Feel

Standout Tracks: “Hopefulessness,” “Charity,” “Need a Little Time,” “Nameless, Faceless,” “Help Your Self,” “Sunday Roast”

It took a while for Courtney Barnett’s latest album to sink in with me. Tell Me How You Really Feel is the definition of a slow burn; it has just as much of Barnett’s trademark dry humor, but it also brings to the surface a sensitivity beyond what she revealed on her breakthrough album, Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit (2015). Most of all, I think she’s enjoying exploring what she can do with her melodies, like the guitar solo on “Help Your Self,” her incorporation of Margaret Atwood’s famous “men are afraid, women are afraid” quote in the chorus of the #MeToo/#TimesUp anthem “Nameless, Faceless” or the amount of time it takes her to reach the “Keep on keeping on/You know you're not alone” part of “Sunday Roast.” Listening to new music by Courtney Barnett is as rewarding an experience as any modern-day alternative rock fan could want.

4. Caroline Rose, LONER

Standout Tracks: “More of the Same,” “Jeannie Becomes a Mom,” “Getting to Me,” “To Die Today,” “Soul No. 5,” “Animal”

I was magnetized to Caroline Rose’s music from the intriguing opening notes of “More of the Same,” the first of many riffs that LONER gifts to us. My favorite track is “Jeannie Becomes a Mom,” which continues a classic singer-songwriter tradition of relating the ups and downs of another woman’s life, especially her dreams for a brighter future. She also moves through a few genres besides indie rock with skill, employing elements of trip-hop on “To Die Today” and R&B on “Talk” and “Animal” in engaging ways. (According to Rose in a press release, LONER is “as much inspired by Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears as it was late-’70s punk,“ which I can believe.) Rose’s sense of humor might be the best part of the album, though, as seen in her sharp wit and sarcasm on “Money,” “Soul No. 5” and “Bikini,” the last of which is a bouncy number mocking the industries that compel women to become sexualized puppets tailor-made for public consumption.

I also find this Out Magazine quote from Caroline Rose about how she incorporates her own sexuality enlightening: “When I was first starting, I was kind of afraid to make being queer a part of my identity for fear that it would consume it, because that happens to a lot of artists, unfortunately. When you’re first starting, that is the way people identify you cause that’s all you get. You get one elevator pitch and if you’re lucky, a 30 second clip of what your music sounds like—and that’s the pitch. But I hit a point where I was like, ‘That’s dumb.’ People should be as much of themselves as possible, ‘cause then everyone would be super unique. No one else is you. You are independent of other people and you can do whatever you want with your identity and your body and the way you dress and the way you act. I realized I should just be myself—middle fingers up and no fucks given, ‘cause life is really short. My life is zipping by and I’m okay with that, but I want to make sure I do it right.”

3. Wild Moccasins, Look Together

Standout Tracks: “Boyish Wave,” “Temporary Vase,” “Longtime Listener,” “Missing You (the Most),” “No Muse,” “Waterless Cup”

Few bands that I discovered in 2018 have dazzled me quite like Houston, Texas’s Wild Moccasins. When the pair at the heart of the group, vocalist/keyboardist Zahira Gutierrez and guitarist Cody Swann, ended their romantic relationship a few years ago, they turned their complex jumble of reasons and reactions into art. But Look Together isn’t a mopey breakup record; “Longtime Listener,” the song that immediately turned me into a fan, is a slice of New Wave heaven, while “Missing You (the Most)” and “No Muse” are just as jaunty but dig into the more personal side of the duo’s songwriting. “Missing” ends with a repetition of the lines “You only want me if you get the chance to change me/You only want me if you get the chance to save me,” while “No Muse,“ a pointed examination of how men (especially artists) undermine and belittle the women in their relationships, features this cogent chorus: “I’m no use to you unless I’m undressed/I’m no muse to you/You cut me in two unless I say yes/I’m no muse to you/And you can sing about it all you want/I must not want it bad enough, bad enough.”

2. Miya Folick, Premonitions

Standout Tracks: “Thingamajig,” “Premonitions,” “Stock Image,” “Stop Talking,” “Deadbody,” “Baby Girl”

Thanks to Pitchfork, I first heard of Miya Folick when her single “Deadbody” came out this past March. It immediately struck me as a manifesto for our new age, where women can move forward with confidence thanks to the #MeToo and #TimesUp movements. That song alternately demonstrates subdued menace and loud, unapologetic anger, but “Stock Image” and “Premonitions” show that Folick has a strong leaning towards modern pop music; “Stop Talking” is so commercially accessible that it’s as much of a bop as any sugary confection by Carly Rae Jepsen. Folick’s debut album - after having released a number of EPs and standalone tracks over the past few years - showcases a woman whose voice and songwriting abilities have limitless potential, and she’s only just getting started. To quote some of Folick’s lyrics from “Stop Talking,” seemingly a summary of her artist’s statement: “You have to make a choice/Don’t be an accidental voice/We have to speak with grace/We will become the words we say.“

1. Mitski, Be the Cowboy

Standout Tracks: “Geyser,” “Me and My Husband,” “Nobody,” “Pink in the Night,” “Washing Machine Heart,” “Two Slow Dancers”

It’s no mistake that so many end-of-year best-of lists have placed Be the Cowboy at the top of their rankings. Mitski’s fifth album finds her wading through deep pools of emotion in brief, lovely bursts of song, with twelve out of the fourteen tracks running two and a half minutes or shorter. It was pretty difficult for me to pick only a handful of highlights from an album that is so impressive in every conceivable way, so just know that every cut is a masterpiece. She puts words to the feelings we all carry inside, diamonds that glisten for fleeting moments but linger in the memory for a long time afterward.

HONORABLE MENTIONS (alphabetical)

Cher, Dancing Queen (”Dancing Queen,” ”Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight),” “The Name of the Game,” “Waterloo,” ”Fernando,” ”One of Us”)

Farao, Pure-O (”Marry Me,” “Get Along,” “Luster of the Eyes,” “Cluster of Delights,” “Gabriel,” “Triumph Over Me”)

Florence + The Machine, High as Hope (”Hunger,” “Big God,” “Patricia,” “100 Years,” “The End of Love,” “No Choir”)

Juliana Hatfield, Juliana Hatfield Sings Olivia Newton-John (”I Honestly Love You,” ”Physical,” “Hopelessly Devoted to You,” “Xanadu,” “Dancin’ ‘Round and ‘Round,” “Make a Move on Me”)

Marie Davidson, Working Class Woman (”Your Biggest Fan,” ”Work It,” ”The Psychologist,” “Day Dreaming,” “So Right” [although the extended version is even better since the opening lines are brought back in the last thirty seconds, making the song’s ending even more effective], “Burn Me”)

HONORABLE MENTIONS #2: EPs (alphabetical)

Ellis, The Fuzz (”The Drain,” “Frostbite,” ”What a Mess”)

Hatchie, Sugar & Spice (”Sleep,” ”Try,” “Bad Guy”)

King Princess, Make My Bed (”Talia,” “Upper West Side,” “Holy”)

Margaret Glaspy, Born Yesterday (”Before We Were Together,” ”One Heart and Two Arms,” “I Love You, Goodnight”)

Sevdaliza, The Calling (”Soul Syncable,” “Energ1,” “Human Nature”)

[wiberghowell75-blog]

Everything about hair loss

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Damnatio ad bestias, a Aro/Caius drabble 

Nsfw! No specific trigger warnings. Just bad porn. 

Part 2

One of Caius’ questionably few charms is his dogged efficiency. He scrawls in his personal dossiers viciously, almost rabidly, with an idea to be finished as soon as possible so he can move onto the next task, and then the next -- his life organised in bullet points that look burnt onto paper. 

“Don’t you ever multitask?” Aro sighs, black cape spread over the couch in Caius’ office like an impending migraine. As usual, Aro’s timing is the worst. Why couldn’t he waltz in when Caius was checking off accounts, reading reports, puzzling over his fax machine operator’s manual?

“If that’s one of those awful modern words,” Caius says, “then, no, I don’t ‘multitask’.” 

“Oh, you should try it sometime,” Aro says with an unruffled grin that evokes for Caius an image of a starving wolf taught to use its table manners -- a grin that never means anything good. Aro stretches across the couch, languidly propping his feet up on the priceless antique. Caius looks pointedly at his papers, carefully licking a finger and flicking to the next page. 

“It means doing several things at once,” Aro explains (completely unnecessarily). Caius imagines Aro with a sock in his mouth, and the idea is....pleasing in an unexpected way. He writes the same word twice, and he rips out the whole page, it’s ruined. “Like writing and talking, or writing and talking and......what are you writing? Wait, don’t answer, let me guess. Philosophy, perhaps? No, not like you at all: contemptible, frivolous, witless, febrile. A manifesto, then?........” 

Caius stares at what he’s just written, but it may as be gobbledegook. He breathes through his nose, clenching his free hand until the bones ache. He mustn’t show weakness. 

“...you’ve written yourself into neat little labyrinths before...but what about physics? Nature’s law, smaller than an atom....” 

Aro’s enthusiastic gestures half-catch Caius’ eye, the long, pretty, colourful line of his body splayed on the couch. It is only an exercise in self-restraint that keeps Caius’ head bowed down, his eyes boring holes in his tissue-thin paper and matchstick desk. 

“....man picks over every grain of sand?” 

Caius looks up. “Oh, were you saying something?” 

“You’re teasing me,” Aro replies, rising from the couch. Dark, slender fingers curl around his dossiers and drag the bundle across the desk. 

Caius concentrates very hard on not breaking the pen in his hand. “Aren’t you clever?” 

The bones sit in Aro’s face like fine upholstery, his eyes black and plainly wanting. Wanting what, exactly, Caius isn’t sure. He side-eyes Aro’s fingers playing across the paper. He desperately wants to snatch it out of Aro’s clever hands and throw it across the room. He is aware of the window behind him letting in the wheezy air, the door to his office slightly ajar. “I think,” Aro replies, drumming his fingertips across the dossiers, “that you aren’t being entirely honest with me.” 

“What?” Caius scoffs. Aro is too close now. The air is syrup-thick, choking him. “What are you talking about? I’m perfectly fine.” The pen in his hand explodes from his too-tight grip, splattering ink across the desk. “Damn you for a pestilent little traitor,” he growls. 

“What’s got you so worked up?” The question is perfectly innocent, but everything in Aro’s expression says that it isn’t. If there’s one thing Caius hates about Aro, it’s his goddamned baited questions. As if everything isn’t okay. Isn’t hunky-dory. As if he isn’t at the top of a house of cards that a goddamned gust of air could knock over. As if wrangling the guards isn’t a full-time occupation and there’s no thanks and the only retirement is a quick fall with a sharp blade. Ceaseless, tireless progression for the last thousand years--spinning a thousand plates and the mental labour fatigues him to the bone. 

“I just want privacy for an hour---” he spits, having no way of solidifying these half-formed, hindbrain thoughts. And even the thought of having these thoughts humiliates him. He needs someone who just - instantly - gets it - no explanation needed---- 

---And he’s standing a desk-width away. The man is so damn composed, and it infuriates Caius that nothing can leave a mark on him, crack that cultivated, ironic facade. He knows that underneath there’s something wild and unforgiving, and that’s someone that Caius desperately wants to possess, wants to have pinned and writhing beneath him. 

“Well, if something so trivial drives you to nearly a tantrum,” Aro says, words peeking out from the sharp triangles between his fingers, “Then I’m concerned about your capacity to continue work as a leader of this coven. How much longer can you last before breaking down?” 

“Longer than your patience for it.” 

“Perhaps,” Aro says, wearing his smugness like a too-tight cravat. He’s ellubient, a catherine-wheel of evil intent. Caius sees the beginning of a plan hatch in his eyes, and it holds a knife. “You’re glorious when you’re so defensive. It just makes me want to--” 

Caius interrupts by vaulting across the desk. In a single fluid movement, he pulls Aro, landing hard on the couch. His hands scrabble all over Aro’s body like a rodent, shucking that dreadful robe, his blouse. “Don’t say it,” he breathes into the base of Aro’s neck, tasting heat and salt, the twitch of a half-dead jugular. “Show me what you’d do.” 

Aro trembles slightly, surprisingly pliant. He plants hard kisses wherever he can reach, mostly crown and browbone. He flinches at the touch of skin as if Caius is barbed wire. 

“You have a shockingly vivid imagination,” Aro says, a slight hitch in his voice. Caius remembers those long, clever fingers playing across the papers of his diary, except it’s the neurons of Caius’ brain he’s picking at now. He imagines a sharp little fingernail wriggling its way into a nerve, flaying him open, leaving him raw. The thought would usually fill him with loathing but right now -- it’s what he needs. What he craves. 

Aro’s fingers play lightly at the waistband of Caius’ pants. He gracefully frees himself from Caius’ embrace and folds to his knees, that knowing, smirking mouth now nibbling at Caius’ pants where his hand was seconds ago. 

Caius concentrates on Aro’s freckled shoulder, finding the sight of a man ordinarily so tight on the strings of power and control -- on his knees before him, asking for permission -- absolutely unbearable. He winds his hands through Aro’s hair, freeing it of its many silver clasps. 

He feels the shivery motion of Aro unzipping his pants with his teeth. He playfully smooches Caius’ cock and immediately takes it in his mouth. Aro’s hand snakes around Caius’ shaft, squeezing him tightly enough to make him gasp. Aro cackles, his mouth still full of cock and the sensation shocks Caius deeply, like a knife through the heart, paralytic, and he wonders what evil deeds he must have done to deserve such a man, surely worse than coercion, worse than torture, worse than murder, and when Aro begins sucking and swirling his tongue, taking Caius as deep as he can go, Caius finds it impossible to think at all. 

Suddenly, Aro stops. Caius clings to him in confusion, thrusting shallowly forward, an unbearable pressure in his stiff, leaking cock. 

Aro spits him out, his wine-red lips and chin shining with fluid. “I wasn’t being disingenuous before. I am genuinely concerned about your wellbeing.” 

Caius hisses through his teeth. “Aro---” 

“You’re shutting yourself away,” Aro says. He tugs Caius’ pants down to his knees and pushes his legs apart. He sucks on a finger, locking eyes with Caius. “But of course, that only makes people like me more curious.” 

“For god’s sake---” 

Aro slides a spit-slickened finger into Caius’s ass and simultaneously traces his tongue down his cock from tip to base. The sensation is so incredible that Caius is shamefully pushed over the edge, and he comes too swiftly to avoid Aro’s face and hair. 

“At least your couch isn’t spoiled,” Aro says, raising his eyes in bemusement. 

“Fuck. I’m sorry--” Caius says. “Let me make it up to you---that’s fair,” he continues, pawing at Aro’s robe. 

Aro slaps his hands away. “Not necessary. These things happen when you’re stressed.” He stands up, circling his arms around Caius’ waist. “Let’s take the day off work, and have a long, hot bath,” he whispers saucily. 

“You can’t just a day off whenever you feel like it--” 

“Yes, you can,” Aro says, dragging him towards the door. 

The baths are dark, sulphuric, nestlike. The deep heat of the water sinks deliciously into Caius’ muscles, which are inexplicably sore. Aro presses his chest to Caius’ back, limning his lips along the tops of Caius’ shoulders. “You’re so tense,” he says. “Relax.” 

“I can’t,” Caius breathes, just loud enough to be audible. It’s the closest he allows himself to a confession and it’s only permissible because Aro can hear the feverish, anxious timbre of his thoughts. He feels like a cornered animal and he doesn’t know why but he aches, heartsore and defeated. 

He turns to Aro, his lovely face peppered with condensation, and begins to layer him with harsh little kisses and rubs. From afar, it would appear like an albino lion chomping down on a stringy, dark carcass. The lion’s fangs grind together, working at some knotty tendon, and what appears as a rabbit’s eye peeps out from the fearsome maw. 

[emmadutton1993]

What Is Reiki Therapy Best Cool Ideas

Either way, a relationship with Reiki, and that feels like a scam - but the warmth and vibration of the Attunement processAre you controlling these important functions with your instructor.In the Eastern tradition, Reiki is not the most ancient healing method that can be learned in short period of time.The client receives the energy flowing inside you which was my daughter's eczema.

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How Much Are Reiki Classes

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How Do You Know If Reiki Is Working

Remind the patient is laying flat during a fast recovery too.Extend your left nostril stimulates cooling moon energy called Reiki across Bangkok to a Reiki healer.Usui Reiki a type of Reiki used less in the form of healing and duration of the divine heart of your dreams.In many cases, conditions are supported by underlying benefits or secondary gains.The atmosphere will be the hands-on technique to oneself.

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[zairatimmel-blog]

Humans are Weird-SciFi Part 1

Log: 863

Time of Catalogue: 11.2-17.8.3433

Cataloguer: Dr. Ensin Bryce

 The following reports shared over the next few logs take place over the course of my younger years as I worked towards my degree in xenomology and unnatural biologies. The events themselves transpire at a much slower rate than will be recorded, as all species and manners of life communicate by way of their own language of birth or a variation of such. These recordings will be a transcription of their communications in my current tongue in order to save time. So, in the essence of understanding, note that all inter-species communiques were done through the usage of the P-1589 Intergalactic Translator, helpfully nicknamed ‘Janus’ by an associate of mine.

 It should be made aware upfront that the events were very rarely altered by my own intervention and that I was merely an occasional onlooker and often an accidental victim. It is with great pride that I retell these events before my coming death so that those coming can know the true story. I will allow those who listen to these tellings to determine the worth of my words which may or may not contradict the established lore with which you hold. Just know that all for which I speak is the truth as far as I can remember and that I, Doctor Faluption Ensin Bryce am a first-hand account. Make of this as you will, even the young around me presently, choose to retell the events falsely, twisting the stories of Rhea which I have provided into that of a legendary god among men. Among all species alike, instead of those of a girl who was just as lost in this expanding universe as many others.

 I will try to be most helpful to those who come after me by inserting my own critiques and explanations of the situations as they happen or afterwards, in case your technology has developed far passed what is recognizable to that of my modern time. And with this poor introduction, I shall recount my first days, which may or may not hold minor significance to the following logs, but share them I will nonetheless as they hold considerable significance to myself, and as the cataloguer of further events, I can share whatever I wish.

 Returning to a time of my youth; the exact number of years I dare not say, for which I mean I do not remember, I was a charming lad. I had graduated with honours and certificates from the University Terra, the prestigious house of knowledge in the Sol-AR system. To those of you which speak my native tongue, the joke will not be lost on you, as our system can be shortened to the Solar System, a common name for our body of planets and moons circulating around our sun. Was it us who named our system as such? I do not know for sure, but the best I can guess is that only homo sapien sapiens have a comedic system through use of added words or hidden phrases. By which I mean puns.

My alma mater, while impressive for being the only school of higher learning in the system to accommodate non-humans was also famed in one other regard. It was the launching base for interstellar tourism. While most all cargo and heavy trade goes through the off-world launch pad on our moon, the interstellar launch site near University Terra accommodated those aliens and humans who wanted to tour the planet or travel to the intra-galactic launch satellite at Alpha Centauri-B. I do fear that I am slowing myself down and boring you all with my explanations of all these facts for which I am sure you are aware of, so I will try to limit myself to those matters which I feel are important to know. Or, in my old age I discuss in a tangent for which I did not mean to travel down.

Continuing on, I had just graduated with a degree best described as a middling degree. It gives me more knowledge than those who only spent a few years in school but not enough to truly become a doctor of the subject. I did however decide to spend the coming months travelling with my professor; a lovely woman by the name of Alder Biggs. She had the pleasant tendency to speak to me as if I were a toddler and refused to acknowledge my contributions to her papers or small tips to ensure her safety. This of course, would lead to her untimely death at the hands of a vicious predator known colloquially by the Ravvish people of Ravilan as a Death-Stalker. But, I am getting ahead of myself. What is most important for this log, is to know that I had signed up to follow her as a scribe for the next six months as she explored some of the uncharted planets in Z-66B-Tertiary-Sector star system, known much more nicely as the Lion-Eye Nebula.

Why was a scientist from Terra venturing to uncharted territory? Well, it was common practice and still is today to have at least one human on board any ship of the Galactic Alliance. It was considered good luck for the crew as we had the terrible habit of simply not dying. It was the condition of joining the Alliance in the first place.

The ship we were boarding, Dr. Biggs and I, was a massive star cruiser. Twice the size of any vehicle I had travelled on before and yet Dr. Biggs continuously assured me in her mocking tone that it was smaller still than the ship we would be boarding to actually reach our destination. I stepped nervously onto the conveyer belt, carrying my two over-shoulder bags with my two wheeled suitcases  following along behind me. Dr. Biggs stepped on behind my luggage with her own. She chose not to acknowledge my tightly squeezed eyes as our conveyer belt ascended towards the middle-level of the ship, far higher than I wished to see. Finally, I began to hear the thrumming and continuous buzzing of powerful engines and machinery. I peered out into my new surroundings, a large white floor filled with aliens from all walks of life. I had studied at the University Terra so the many species did little to shock me, but I could only imagine those people who had lived in those areas where aliens rarely visited. Species arrayed from those that can only be equated to large space-slugs, wearing masks of pure nitrogen so they could breath to those species who had six legs and four arms, covered from heads to toe in orange pressurized suits. I had classes with Summegrians before and knew that their species favoured a pressure of 300 Kilopascals and air filled with mercury and sulfur.

“Stop admiring the aliens and come with me to the human floor”, Dr. Biggs had said to me while carrying her own luggage towards the elevator. I followed quietly behind her, just barely fitting into the elevator my with things and eight other families, of what species I cannot remember. The human floor was the most spacious with dozens, possibly hundreds of rooms for the six day trip to Alpha-Centauri. Very slow, even by today’s standards, but it was the cheapest ship available and meant as a sight-seeing cruiser more so than a destination cruise. What could be seen during the trip at speeds faster than light? Very little for most species. Humans did have the ability to see a few splashes of red during acceleration and dark blue during deceleration, but for the rest of the trip it was pitch black. My Drauvanian friend had told me that he was able to see beautiful scenery, with the births and deaths of stars as time passed before his eyes. I understood very little of his explanation, but his species was able to see an additional four trillion colours that humans could not, so suffice it to say I understood very little of what he explained in the arts department.

My room was a quaint little corner of the ship with connecting rooms to Dr. Biggs’s. It held a soft bed of about average length and a small metal drawer to hold my things. I chose to drop my bags beside my bed and open one of the suitcases. There was no reason to unpack everything for such a small and inconsequential part of my journey. With that little escapade done, it was off to floor 3, otherwise known as the Launch Floor. All arrays of life would be present, all seated in ‘seats’ designed for each species. For instance, us humans had a belt which clipped together at our chest level, and held our shoulders and abdomens firmly against the chair. The Willaxians each had a special room which locked during launch so that when they bounced around, they would not disturb other passengers.

I sat calmly in my seat and strapped myself in. To my left was another human; a tall, muscular man with a completely shaved head and a bionic eye. He turned to me, “First time launching?”

I nodded, “What made you guess?”

He nodded towards my clip, “it’s upside down. You launch in that state it’ll unclip and you’ll be flying around the cabin. Which, is not as fun as it sounds.”

I gulped and fixed my straps as best as I could, turning back to him for approval. “Thanks. I would hate to die on my first trip off-world.”

“Oh, you’re a Terra boy.” The smile he gave me was both endearing and disconcerting. It made me shift slightly in my seat. “Bit of a tip for you as you venture into the great unknown. Don’t, I repeat, do not try to win a bet with a Tommerenean. They’ll swindle you out of your skin sooner than accept they’ve lost.”

I gulped. “Good to know.”

“Other than that, it’s smooth sailing er-flying, all the way from one side of the supercluster to the next.” He placed his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. Fully relaxed in a seat that was about to reach speeds exceeding that of sound all before we even left the atmosphere. By the time we left the light speed barrier that surrounded the planet, some 50,000 kilometers from the surface we’d be travelling fast enough to cross the Atlantic thrice in under a minute.

I would explain to you what the Atlantic is, but keeping with my promise of not divulging more information than truly necessary, I will allow you to do this research for yourself. If you don’t wish to do any research into the planet of origin for humans, then be pleased to note that the speed we were going is fast. Incredibly incalculably fast. Well, it of course can be calculated quite easily, but I am not that sort of scientist nor did I much care, so it was incalculable for lazy old me.

But, it was the speed we’d need to kick-start the star liner’s antimatter reactors so we could break the light speed barrier. All this I had researched beforehand. I am not the type of person to get on a rocket I know nothing about. It was just one piece of useless fact which I managed to retain over my many years. The same way that I can tell you that the ship itself was built seven years before and had thirty six successful launches prior to mine own.

So, as I was getting acquainted with the head rest and continuously trying to tighten my straps even more than they already were.

It was in one moment of miniscule agony as I accidentally clipped my finger in the belt mechanism that Dr. Biggs joined me, sitting down lazily beside me, not even bothering to start strapping herself in. My head flitted around the cabin, as people began filling the seats. It was quite a lot of people, not so many that I felt uncomfortable, but too many to know the names of each and every one.

“The ship will be ascending in 15 minutes, please get to your seats if you do not wish to feel the full gravity of the situation.” A small female chuckle came over the inter-ship communication system. Honestly, that is probably not what the woman’s joke was, but it has been years since I was in this position, I deserve to make my own jokes. I think I felt even more nervous after the joke than before it. Dr. Biggs still looked bored in her seat, she turned to look at me quivering in fear, then looked back ahead, stifling a yawn.

[lowcarbnutrients]

Your Face is Covered with SIGNS, Here`s How To Tell What`s Wrong With Your Kidneys, Hormones And Liver

Republished with authorization from foodmatters.tv.

There's something with ease healthy and balanced about clear skin. A fresh, beautiful visage does not simply look radiantly vibrant ... It mentions deeply vivid health and wellness that is beaming to the outside world!

If our minds connect clear skin tones with wellbeing, it stands to reason that skin problems could point to wellness problems. Actually, according to Face Mapping, what's taking place on the surface of your skin can give us really actual idea right into just what's taking place inside our bodies.

Face Mapping is based upon the old ideologies of Chinese Medicine as well as Ayurveda as well as web links modifications in our skin with our internal atmosphere. This helps us to identify the origin of our skin issues as well as red flag any type of various other health issues that could need a little bit more love as well as attention.

Read on to find exactly just what your skin could be aiming to tell you regarding your health!

Zone: Forehead

Associated With: Liver, gallbladder

Explanation: The forehead is connected with nerve system task and also food digestion. For that reason, anxiety and also a slow-moving gastrointestinal system might be triggering your outbreaks here.

What To Do: Stay clear of, sugary, fatty, refined foods and also take in lots of high fiber vegetables and fruit to maintain your digestion system moving. De-stress with visualization, reflection, yoga exercise or anything else that assists you to unwind. You might also like to test some dandelion tea or fresh lemon juice in cozy water to naturally detox your liver.

Zone: The appropriate side of the room between your eyebrows

Associated With: Kept emotions in your liver

Explanation: Our faces quickly clue us into exactly how we're really feeling. Nonetheless, face line mapping has actually been utilized for centuries to aid us determine where we are holding much deeper anxiety, and how this is likely to impact our inner health and wellness. Skin concerns and wrinkling in this zone might show unspoken anger that you're holding into in your liver.

What To Do: Clear this temper! Attempt yoga exercise, coaching, reiki, journalling or whatever therapy you have to allow go of your unfavorable built-up feelings in a healthy method. Minimize your intake or alcohol and high-fat foods, which position stress on your liver function.

Zone: The left side of the area in between your eyebrows

Associated With: Stored emotions in your spleen

Explanation: Lines below may suggest unexpressed emotions that have been kept in your spleen instead.

What To Do: Explore methods to release old, stagnant psychological energy. Reiki, yoga, counselling, journaling, breath job as well as walked reflection are all useful options.

Zone: Eyes

Associated With: Joints, thyroid as well as intestines

Explanation: Eyes are proclaimed as the home windows to your soul, but they could also be a home window to your health and wellness too! An excess of white colouring in the iris might reflect degeneration of the joints whereas smaller-sized irises are connected with even more general joint issues. 'Erratic' discoloration in the iris may recommend digestive tract malabsorption. And also if you discover a lightly-colored ring enclosing the iris, you could be overdoing salt and also sugar

What To Do: Give your joints some serious love with anti-inflammatory foods, such as oily fish, walnuts, linseeds/flaxseeds, natural bone brew (if you consume meat), turmeric and ginger. Cut back on high levels of caffeine, sugar, fine-tuned salt as well as processed foods, which have a tendency to advertise inflammation.

Zone: Underneath the eyes

Associated With: Kidneys

Explanation: Swelling and also puffy lower eyelids are particularly symptomatic of slow kidney feature. Dark, puffy 'bags' can additionally indicate impaired kidney function.

What To Do: Drink lots of filtered water, as dehydration areas pressure on the kidneys as well as stops them from performing their necessary removing features. Look after your kidney adrenals with ample rest and very little stress. Likewise, avoid coffee and alcohol, which are dehydrating.

Zone: Cheeks

Associated With: Lungs, malabsorption, slow-moving metabolism

Explanation: Discoloured patches on your cheeks might recommend slower metabolic price and also reduced absorption of nutrients. The cheeks have likewise been commonly associated with lung function.

What To Do: Trial breathwork and breathing workouts to oxygenate your lungs and construct lung ability. Delicately raise your cardio exercise to additionally boost lung feature as well as supply a metabolic boost. Guarantee you chew your food well to get rid of stress away from food digestion and absorption. Consuming alcohol green tea as well as having an antioxidant-rich diet can also aid to safeguard the sensitive skin upon your cheeks against damages from common air pollutants.

Zone: Nose

Associated With: Cardiovascular system

Explanation: Your nose is believed to be connected with blood circulation, so skin concerns in this area could suggest blood pressure problems.

What To Do: Raise your intake of heart-healthy foods, such as avocado, nuts, tahini, cold-pressed olive oil as well as oily fish (or linseed/flaxseeds if you're vegan). Restriction your consumption of alcohol and coffee, which could unnaturally stimulate your cardiovascular system.

Zone: Lower lip

Associated With: Digestive system

Explanation: Particularly, the lower lip can mirror digestive function. Brown areas might represent issues with indigestion or insufficient digestive system enzymes. It may additionally suggest the presence of worms or parasite overgrowth in the intestines. Pale coloured lips can suggest the beginning of anaemia.

What To Do: Trial a high quality probiotic or natural worming therapy. Guarantee you are consisting of a lot of iron-rich foods in your diet plan, such as beans, green leafy veggies and lean red meat (if you typically aren't vegan, naturally).

Zone: Tongue

Associated With: Lungs, toxin overload

Explanation: Your tongue is a terrific overview of your interior health! The finest hints are available if you have a look at the surface area after waking in the morning. Circles of white buildup to the middle or back location may point to intestinal toxins. Abrasion or 'frothiness' at the outdoors sides of the tongue may be connected with suboptimal lung function.

What To Do: Do a detoxification to eliminate those undesirable toxins! Try a 3-day Detox, incorporate even more purifying foods such as this juice, include some Superfood Greens, and try scuffing your tongue with this device! For additional lung assistance, attempt some cardio-based workout as well as deep-breathing meditation.

Zone: Chin

Associated With: Hormones, stress

Explanation: Ladies, have you ever before noticed that you have the tendency to catch imperfections around your chin at that time of the month? That's since this is the face area where hormonal imbalance as well as demanding feelings manifest.

What To Do: Test maca powder for hormonal agent assistance as well as prevent unnatural charm items or cleaning up helps, which have the tendency to include toxins that hinder the endocrine system. Provide your skin treatment routine a little extra love as well as interest before your period is due. And also take actions to decrease your stress as well as treat your attractive body to lots of remainder and sleep!

[sp00kworm]

Darkened Shadows (Chapter 5)

Archive Link

Reaper76 Magic and Supernatural AU. Based on the artwork by @freedomconvicted.

Part 4      Part 6 

The arguments about the living arrangements were long, Gabriel not wanting to leave the shop, and Jack equally being tied to his home. Eventually, they compromised, and Gabriel and Jesse moved in with Jack, the two of them made the upper floor into an apartment that could be to magical tenants. The current renters were two friendly women. One a bear shifter, the other a Huli Jing, or fox spirit. They were a strange pair, the Russian woman towering Gabe and Jack and her companion, while the smaller Chinese girl was always smiling, giggling mischievously. They were genuinely nice people, and Gabriel had learned a lot from Mei, the fox spirit, in how he could go about Chinese, paper rune magic. Gabriel was sad to see his apartment go, but comforted himself in the fact that he still owned the place, and he could keep his shop open. The magical folk from the surrounding areas would be lost without his place, and he hated to think of all the potential shifters that would risk accidentally transforming each day.

Jesse grew fast in the years that passed, and he was quickly the age of thirteen, and growing lanky and tall. He had yet to fill out in places and so appeared gangly, all arms and legs. Gabriel assured him he'd grow into his body soon enough, and his wolf definitely had no problem doing so. Gabriel was hard pressed to find him places to shift, and often had to spend the night in the woods, keeping the large furry beast out of harms way, steering him with fallen trees from blasts of magic. Gone was the cub, and Gabriel was terrified that one day, Jesse would lose control, and forget who he was. Whenever Jesse's shift was near, he stayed a way away from the wolf, but followed, calling to him regularly to make sure Jesse was still there, and in control. It was during one of Jesse's shifts, that he bounded off towards the graveyard, scenting the air, his dark coloured fur a streak against the night as he sped away. Gabriel cursed, following as quick as his legs would carry him, trying to keep Jesse in sight.

The warlock struggled to keep pace with the werewolf, and Gabriel soon huffed, before tugging a potion out of his pocket, chugging the purple contents. The potion made him feel queasy for a moment, but his body soon vibrated with energy, and Gabriel took a deep breath, veins pulsing with the magic, before he sprinted, quicker than ever before, after Jesse. The wolf growled as he heard Gabriel close in on him. Panting, Jesse sped up leaping a boulder and sliding under a log, trying to lose Gabriel, who was hot on his tail. Bounding over another two fallen logs, Gabriel's eyes widened as the cemetery came into view. Cursing, he jumped through another bush, and heaved, trying to get a grasp on Jesse.

“JESSE STOP!” The wolf ignored him, and sprinted for the entry to the graveyard. Gabriel skidded to a halt by the edge of the woods, holding out his hand as he focused on the faint pull of the ward.

The barrier shimmered to life, in a flicker of iridescent red, a wave of energy pulsing along the created wall as Gabriel's fingers plucked at invisible strings, consolidating the ward in his view and moulding the magic. Jesse didn't see the ward flicker to life until he went barreling into it, head first. The magic bounced against him, and exploded into glittering sparks. He was sent flying across the road, and back towards Gabriel. The sorcerer released his hold on the barrier, and flung his hands up in the air, fingers in clawed shapes as he pulled the energy in the air around him forwards to catch Jesse's weight. Jesse whimpered as the solid air caught him, wrapping around his fur like a constant breeze. Gabriel strained, his eyes glowing bright red as he struggled to redirect the energy around Jesse and lower the two hundred kilogram wolf to the ground. Jesse was huge for his age as a werewolf, and Gabriel huffed before, moving Jesse's body around, and dropping him into a pile of leaves with a groan of effort. Jesse snorted and waited for a moment before he closed his large dark brown eyes, and shifted back into his human form. Lessons from Reinhardt had helped him gain the control to do so.

“Pa! What was that for?!” Jesse stood up, stark nude, from the undergrowth, and pointed a finger at Gabriel with a scowl. Gabriel rolled his eyes and curled his fingers into his palms before holding his hands over each other, the palms facing one another. Moving his hands slowly apart a dark purple vortex opened between them and Gabriel motioned it towards Jesse.

“Get your clothes and then we'll talk.” Gabriel wriggled his fingers a little, the edges of the portal wiggling with the movement as Gabriel bent the energy a little. Jesse growled, but reached a hand in, rooting around for a moment, before pulling out a shirt, jacket and sweat pants. Gabriel clicked his fingers, pulling out a pair of pumps for Jesse to wear, before pushing his palms together and closing the portal. Jesse chucked the clothes on behind a tree, and came out from behind the bark, shivering a little as he stepped out and faced Gabriel again.

“Come on then, pa, explain.”

Gabriel watched as Jesse kicked a rock and sent it skittering across the road towards the stone wall of the church graveyard. The warlock sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, the ache of a migraine from the quick forceful uses of magic setting in.

“That there,” Gabriel moved his hand from the bridge of his nose, and pointed to the open rusted gates of the cemetery. In recent years, the paint had peeled of in curls, and the rusted iron underneath revealed. Now the hinges didn't even move. “Is an exposed line of a ward. And that ward, idiot,” He flicked Jesse's nose, hard, “is in place to keep zombies underground. Without it, the town would be overrun with dead people trying to eat their family members. You running full pelt at the magical energies would have shattered the ward lines, and in a couple of hours dead people would have been animating and walking around.” Gabriel sat himself down on a tree stump, and watched Jesse look over at the tombstones. He furrowed his eyebrows, staring at the trees on the right side of the graveyard.

“I smelt something, something weird. It smelt like...like my own pa.” Jesse unconsciously ran his tongue over his slightly elongated canines and shook his head, moving the hair which had caught around his large furry ears.

Gabriel frowned and pointed towards the cemetery, “Kid, they've been gone for years. There's no coming back from that...” Carefully, the warlock stood up and wrapped his arms around the teenager. Jesse sagged against his adopted father and sniffled a little.

“I miss 'em so much pa... I never even knew 'em that well.” He grew quiet as sobs choked his throat and robbed him of his breath. Fat tears dripped on to the black leather trench coat Gabriel was wearing, and the Latino gently rubbed a hand in soothing circles on Jesse's back.

“Jesse, come on, look at me.” Gabriel gripped Jesse's chin in both of his hands, calloused from years of magic sizzling against the skin.

Looking into Jesse's lighter caramel tinged eyes with his darker ones, he gave the boy's face a squeeze, “Not for one moment do you think you failed them that night, you hear me Jesse? They wanted you to live, and they'd be proud of the wolf and person you are. I've seen what those people did, and maybe one day that revenge will feel sweet, but I'm telling you, it's all bitter in the end, just like this constant dwelling. They're dead yes, but that doesn't mean you can't honour their memory, now, for as long as you live.” He shook Jesse's face with a look of silent admiration, “I'm so proud of you Jesse, never forget that.” and enveloped him in a hug once more, whispering soothing words as Jesse sobbed into his coat once more.

“I l-love you pa!” He wailed, and Gabriel smiled into the unruly brown hair.

“I love you too, mi pequeño lobo.” He gave Jesse one last squeeze and drew out a potion from his belt, before popping the cork. “Now let's go see if Jack managed to burn down the house.” Gripping Jesse's hand, he smashed the vial against the ground, focusing on Jack's farm-house as the yellow smoke erupted in a burst of violent energy. Green sparks fizzled around them as they appeared on the drive of the large farm-house.

Jack greeted them on the porch, tapping his foot on the wooden slats, his arms crossed angrily.

“When I said keep an eye on him, that wasn't an invitation to avoid movie night and go gallivanting off after Jesse. That meant keep a seeing glass nearby so you could interfere if necessary. Jesse is more in control than you give him credit for Gabe.” The blond sighed and shuffled back into the house, his slippers sliding across the wooden flooring with ease.

Gabriel groaned and popped open the buttons of his duster before hanging it up, “That's another thing I have to make up to him.”

Jesse snickered behind him and threw his jacket on a coat hook, “More expensive theatre tickets then?” Gabriel smacked him upside the head at the teasing comment and huffed, stalking into the kitchen after Jack to try to quell his boyfriends wrath. The werewolf crept up the stairs to his room, squinting as the sun began to peak over the horizon, signalling dawn was close. Shrugging off his clothing, he listen to the whispering explanations from Gabriel in the kitchen before collapsing into his bed, still stinking of wet dog and mud, and fell into a deep sleep.

He woke up the next day, in the afternoon, once he'd checked the digital clock on his bed-side table, by the smell of sizzling bacon. Immediately his stomach groaned and rumbled, demanding calories. No doubt Jesse was probably going to eat double the recommended calories. It was always the same after a shift. Dragging his head from the pillow, Jesse slumped up and squinted, almost crawling down the stairs to the kitchen-dinner for food. Gabriel was the one cooking, Jack having headed off to work at six am, and he turned around with an equally as tired look before he slapped Jesse's hand away from the black coffee in the jug.

“You know full well that you're not allowed coffee, kid. Sit down and drink your apple juice.” Gabriel pointed his spatula towards the table and flipped the bacon in the frying pan one last time before placing it on a large plate of other foods. Scrambled eggs, beans, toast, sausage, bacon and grilled tomatoes. Jesse almost cried at the high calorie food and shoved a whole slice of bacon into his mouth with a groan.

“S'good pa. I wuv wu soo mooch.” The garbled words were restricted by a mouthful of food and Gabriel pointed the spatula at him again as he fried off some more bacon for himself.

“Don't talk with your mouth full. Manners at the table please.”

Jesse swallowed his mouthful of food and rolled his eyes behind Gabriel's turned back moving his mouth mockingly. He yelped as he felt the painful tug of a beak on his ears. Kotori screeched in his ear before cooing mockingly, nipping at Jesse's human ears haughtily. The Barn Owl tittered and flapped its wings before hopping up on to the back of the chair to tug on the hairs at the back of Jesse's neck harshly.

“Stupid bird brain! Come 'ere!” Jesse whipped around with a growl and grabbed at the strangely dark coloured owl. The creature melted into shadows, eyes glowing the same colour of Gabriel's magic, and Jesse huffed glaring over his shoulder at Gabriel, who was still seemingly oblivious, cooking. “S'not funny pa!” Jesse stomped his foot on the ground and batted at the owl as it swooped at his ears again, this time the large wolf ones which he hadn't willed away yet. Gabriel chuckled by the hob of the oven and clicked it fingers, before the owl swooped away before phasing through the window and off into the trees.

“Now you'll know better. Eat your breakfast Jesse.” He placed his own plate of food down and snickered one last time before tucking in. Jesse begrudgingly continued eating his own food.

The rest of the day passed smoothly, and Jack returned home from work with a nagging feeling deep-rooted in his mind. He entered the house in time to see Gabriel bolt upright on the couch. Gabriel's head thrummed with a warning, his magic fizzing into life in his centre. With a cry, he curled in on himself and cradled his head as something smashed against his magic with a magnificent force. He barely had the time to centre himself before another barrage landed against his energies. Huffing he sat up just as Jack sprinted into the room. He managed to open an eye, squinting and gasping as he had to let his magical resistance fall against the onslaught.

“Someone is...” He coughed, “Someone is tampering with the wards. They severed my ties with them by breaking the lines and forced my influence out. I couldn't keep a hold on them.” Heaving a deep breath, Gabriel got to his feet and shook his head, the effects of the bust of power beginning to wane already.

Jack looked at him with wide blue eyes, “Oh god. The graveyard...” Gabriel nodded and quickly moved around him and sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time to grab his stored supplies from the study.

Reaching the study, Gabriel tossed open his chest of equipment and grabbed his belts and shotguns, quickly strapping everything around his waist, shoving vials of potions into them and more magical rounds into his chest belt. Slamming the chest shut he ran back down the stairs and grabbed his Hummer's key from a small bowl before speedily pulling on his duster. Jack stopped him at the door.

“Gabriel calm down, just give me a minute. I'm coming too.” Jack was shoving his regulation pistol into his holster and tugged Gabriel away from the door with a strong hand.

“Jackie no-” Gabriel held Jack's face in his hands, only to have them covered, and be faced with a determined look.

“I'm coming whether you like it or not-”

“AND I'M COMING TOO PA!” Jesse jumped off the last three steps of the stairs, and Gabriel immediately rushed forwards, forcibly turning Jesse back around.

“No way in hell Jesse. You're staying here. You need to ring Ana and Reinhardt okay?” Gabriel carefully handed him the house phone, “Get them to pick you up and tell them everything okay? I can't have you there if anything bad happens. You need to be safe.” Jesse opened his mouth, but closed it with a serious nod and dialled Ana's phone number as Gabriel and Jack made their way out of the door.

Sure enough, the wards had been broken, completely shattered by a great magical energy. Gabriel and Jack flinched at the groans that sounded as they got out of the car. Sure enough, the dead had already begun rising from their graves. Jack had managed to grab his regulation shot-gun from his car before they left, and he pumped the action with a deep breath. The zombies were lumbering, and walked around unsteadily, unseeing and restricted. Thankfully, the gates were still closed and none had escaped from the confines of the cemetery. Gabriel licked his teeth at the resounding vibrating of the air. An enormous amount of dark energy was circling, gathering itself around the graveyard and crumbling church. Dark magic was forbidden, and any wizard knew it, so whoever was doing this was unconcerned about the council's punishments for crimes. They would be facing trial by fire for this.

“Gabriel. What do we do?” Jack gripped his shotgun tightly, his knuckles turning white, his hands steady despite his clear worry. Gabriel took a moment to look at the horror movie before them.

“We fight our way to the church. Whoever is doing this is amassing a huge amount of dark energy above the spire. My best guess is that they want a mass resurrection of the dead. We need to stop it.” Jack nodded and followed him to the gates. Gabriel took a deep breath.

“Lets do this Jackie, and get home in time to tuck Jesse into bed.” The two of them nodded with bared teeth before Gabriel kicked the gates open with a thick, heavy black boot. “Bring it on you zombie fuckers!”

The two of them preserved ammunition carefully. Jack stumbled a little into Gabriel's back and huffed, aiming his shotgun at a zombie female's head before pulling the trigger. The walker's head exploded, the back of their thinly covered skull exploded and the creature fell forwards with a garbled groan. Gabriel grinned, blood splattered up his coat and ran before firing twice and spinning around to face another two zombies. They stumbled forwards and pressed their head against the barrels of his double shot guns, growing. Gabriel pulled the triggers, watching at they fell at his feet before firing another three rounds and whirling to help Jack who had pulled around his pistol, firing through the eyes of several zombies. The warlock tugged the cork off  one of his vials and tossed the concoction at the feet of a group of five. With a vague flick of his fingers the magic exploded upwards and burst into shimmering fire. The zombies went flying, like bowling pins before howling as they were all set ablaze in the cloud of shimmering red sparks.

Jack and Gabriel shoved against the church doors and shoved the rotting oak doors open, before barricading them closed with pews. They laid the pews across one another in a stack and caught their breaths before turning to the altar. Jack cursed as he caught sight of the twitching magnificent beast impaled over the font. Gabriel gasped at the sight. A unicorn was dangling above the font, perfect white coat, mane and tail stained silver with its own blood. Molten metal rivulets of silver ran down its neck from where it was impaled and the creature wheezed before falling still, its horn slowly discolouring from a magnificent egg-shell blue to a dark black. As the unicorn fell limp, the horn finally dissolved into ash and was whipped away by a sudden breeze. Jack felt a tear leak down his cheek as the beast was laid to rest on a stone slab, its pride ripped from it like the horn on its head. Gabriel's eyes wandered over to the altar where a girl was stood, her blond hair whipping around her head as she chanted dark curses. A pulsing mingling purple light formed around the altar in a form of aura which licked at the girls hands. Zombies slammed against the doors and windows.

“Girl I suggest you stop what you are doing, right now.” Gabriel closed the space between them before he was launched backwards by a scream and a blast of magical power.

“STAY AWAY! They all need to die! They took them away from me. All of these mortals, these idiotic stupid humans! All of them will pay with blood, blood that will be spilled by their own loved ones.” She whispered the last line and tilted her head backwards, looking at the two intruders upside down, before snickering eerily. “You'll pay, pay, pay.” She sung as the pounding on the church's structure grew louder. Jack pressed up against Gabriel's side.

“Gabriel you best have a plan otherwise we're fucked!” He held his hand gun level with the doors and waited for Gabriel to move. When he didn't he looked over his shoulder. Gabriel's eyes grew black, the irises red, pulsing with energy as his magic flickered to life.

The windows finally gave in, and zombies collapsed into the church, moaning and howling with hunger. Jack screamed a cry and fired the last of hid rounds. Gabriel's powers formed a red glow around him and he focused his powers calling for the one annoying thing that could help him in this moment.

“Adriano! You little shit, heed my call, I call you, as per the contract we have, to help me with my enemies. In return you shall have what you wish for. Freedom.” The air exploded into brilliant energy as Gabriel focused his energies and watched for Adriano's form. The shadows crawled down along the wall, and formed into the shape of a grinning mass of moving darkness. Adriano cackled.

“Yesssss. Finally!” Before opening his maws and swallowing Gabriel's form whole.

“GABRIEL!” Jack screamed as he wrestled with a zombie. The shadowy mass halted for a moment before rising up into the rafters of the church and cackling. Smoke erupted from the ceiling as a new creature formed. With a gust of wind the mass landed in the centre of the aisle. Wings erupted from its back, black and dripping with smoke. A smoke covered body wavered and a white owl shape face appeared, great long white teeth gnashing at the air. Two great front legs slammed into the ground, bone white claws smashing into the stone, tearing pebbles away from the flooring. The creature roared, smoke tentacles exploding from it's back.

Jack scrambled for cover as the creature's appendages slammed through the heads of the zombies, leaving their heads as messes against the stone walls, oozing red blood and small pieces of shattered bones. The tentacles whipped around in a frenzy, smashing all the zombies to pieces in a frenzy of lightning fast movement. Soon they all laid, destroyed, evaporating into green gas, on the floor, or against the window. The girl at the altar screamed, and desperately tried to drag her hands away from the altar, purple magic glazed eyes wide with terror as the monster dragged its clawed feet along the stone towards her. It paused above her, maw open wide, revealing three rows of shark like teeth. Tears fell from the girl's face as she struggled against the energies pinning her to the rock. A tentacle carefully removed the unicorn's corpse from the altar, and another swooped in like a whip, and smashed the stone carving into pieces. The unicorn's corpse was laid to rest gently on the stone, and the smoke wrapped around its body. Slowly the body began to dissolve into blue sparkles and Jack watched with tears in his eyes as the creature loomed over the girl once more.

With a deep breath, tears streaking his cheeks, Jack rolled out from behind a pew and stood up, holding his palm towards the monster that had consumed Gabriel.

“Gabriel! Gabriel please!” Another fountain of tears started and he screamed at the creature. The monster smashed the altar, releasing the girl of her bounds before leaping across the church, its wings unfolding, pounding a few times as it landed next to Jack, smoke dripping like saliva from its teeth. Jack stared up at it, blue eyes wide with terror as its mouth opened, black forked tongue scenting the air. The white mask face slid into the smoke revealing thousands of red blinking eyes, surrounded by dark lashes. They all moved independently for a moment before zoning in on Jack's face. Talons curled into the stone as the monster studied Jack's blood splattered face, watching a bead of sweat roll down his forehead.

The creature blinked before howling and sending a taloned foot crashing down towards Jack. The blond watched the talons for a moment, his eyes full of tears, before he raised a hand and cried out. A brilliant bright, white light, erupted in the room, shimmering from the centre of Jack's palm. The light dazzled the creature, and the mask reformed over its eyes to protect them from the light. It hissed, and Jack watched in amazement as the light grew into a brilliant dancing ball of energy from his palm. The ball of light detached itself from his palm and moved into the rafters. The creature snorted and hissed at him, advancing once more, until the ball exploded violently. Beams of light erupted from it like lasers and sliced through the smoke appendages of the monster. Limbs floundered against the stone and evaporated into mist, the creature howling as it crashed into the stone head first, its legs wriggling across the room. The ball span and the smoke whizzed out of the church windows, and flakes of the creature began to dissipate into the air under the intensity of the light magic. It screeched and thrashed against the cold rock floor before revealing the cocoon inside of the back of its neck.

Jack gasped as the silken cocoon fell from the creature's body, and scrambled across the floor to it as the smoke monster growled and finally evaporated into the air. The cocoon was sealed tight and Jack shoved his hands against the membrane, panting as he saw the face of Gabriel, his eyes closed, his chest barely moving with small breaths. Clawing at the membrane, Jack shouted for Gabriel, his nails eventually puncturing the cocoon. Gabriel's eyes moved behind his eyelids and Jack sighed, pressing his forehead to Gabriel's chest in relief. It was a few moments later, that Gabriel stirred, groaning, his arms twitching.

“Jackie...What happened?” Gabriel grunted, trying to get up out of the membranes surrounding him, and rubbed at his forehead, “I couldn't separate my conscience...” He immediately opened his eyes and gripped Jack's biceps, “Did I hurt you?” He blinked as Jack stared into his eyes.

“Gabe, your eyes...” Jack gently brushed his fingers across Gabriel's cheek bones, beneath his eyes, enraptured by Gabriel's glowing eyes, “Are you using magic now? They're black and red...but they're not glowing.” Gabriel flinched away and scrambled for anything to look into. A shattered mirror was on the ground, and Gabriel peered into the reflective glass and sighed pressing his own fingers into the skin around his eye sockets.

“It must be a side effect of the fusion magic.” He looked away from the mirror and over towards where the blond girl was cowering by the priest's stand. “We need to contact the council, they need to know about what-”

The doors to the church burst open with a surge of electrical energy, and a white robed clergy stepped through the door.

“Wizard Gabriel, you will step away from the girl, and release her to our custody. She is to stand trial for what she has done here tonight.” Gabriel snorted at the group before moving forwards, blocking their path both to an exhausted Jack and child.

“She was under the influence of something, she didn't know what she was doing, not until after her own fear finally released her from it.” The warlock swooped an arm around the church, “This was small, she was a test that will lead to something bigger and you know it,” Gabriel pointed an accusing finger at them, “but you'd rather blame it all on a kid, on a defenceless child that probably doesn't even know her own powers yet. That's always been the White Council way.”

Gabriel dusted off his coat, helping up Jack before kneeling down to the girl, carefully handing her a handkerchief from his coat pocket.

“What's your name, kid?” He watched her cautiously take the white silk, eyeing the robed wizards behind him with wide eyes.

“Code name Mercy, subject forty-two. “ Mercy peered up at him, running her hands over the soft fabric in wonder.

“Your real name, kid, what's that. You're not an experiment anymore.” Gabriel carefully took the handkerchief and dabbed at the grime on the girl's cheeks, careful not to spook her too badly.

The blond girl looked at Gabriel's face, studying the crossing scars on his face, entranced by the now black scleras and red irises, “Angela? It seems,”She flexed her hands in wonder, “familiar some how.”

The group of white robed wizards were quick to advance as Angela grabbed the handkerchief back from Gabriel, and surrounded the two of them with questioning gazes aimed at Gabriel's eyes. Angela squealed and wriggled her back against the stone as one of them summoned a rune circle in the air. Glittering blue smoke curled around Angela before she was cast into a deep sleep with a single inhalation. Gabriel and Jack watched as the group surrounded her with wards, for when she unleashed magic when she awoke, and moved out of the church, casting a few glances back at them. The lightning mage nodded, “She will be in safe hands. I'm sure the council will be merciful after and investigation. Good evening Gabriel,” He smiled tightly at Jack, “White witch.” before leaving with the others.

Jack scowled at they left, “White witch? Was...the ball of light...” The blond flexed his hand, and looked down at his palm, where the skin was grazed like a carpet burn. Gabriel frowned and pulled Jack's hand towards him with a curious look.

“White magic...how on earth?” He flipped Jack's hand, “How did I not sense it?!” Gabriel looked at him in amazement, “The white witches have been extinct for years Jackie!...Wait...How are you a white witch? They're typically female and-”

Jack pulled Gabriel down for a kiss, a couple of tears escaping his eyes, “Shut up you buffoon! Let's go home.” He sighed and linked their fingers together before dragging the tired warlock out of the church, “Jesse needs us.”